#like obviously if you experience a loss and this is something that brings YOU comfort. by all means

[tangledinink]

my least favorite thing in the world is when people go "oh,,,, 🥺 god must have needed an angel,,,," in the wake of a loved one's death. like,,, fr???? the all-powerful god, lord of everything, maker of the universe or whatever the fuck, just,,, DESPERATELY needed a 25-year-old dumbass SOOO bad RIGHT NOW??? was there a car he needed someone to identify the make and model of without anyone asking???? like???? did they just REALLY need someone to drink bud light and play COD for him???? heaven just DEEPLY needs someone to come up and pet cats and this was the ONLY OPTION????

[islandofsages]

So i got some silly idea, Can i request Savanaclaw dorm with male raccoon beastman reader 🦝 (who is also a third year Savanaclaw student) that likes to ✨ collect trash ✨ and ✨ dumpster driving ✨ Like, He is not poor but he just likes to do that. Thanks! Have a great day!

characters: the savanaclaw boys x male raccoon beastman third year reader

tags: platonic, fluff, imagines format

warnings: none

author's notes: i feel like i made dumpster-diving sound like thrifting in this ... i love thrifting can you tell

Leona Kingscholar

“...Whaddya think ya’re doing?”

Oh, you thought it was obvious but apparently not. You're dumpster diving obviously

A better question would be what is Leona Kingscholar doing near a bunch of dumpsters. You point this out to him

He actually seems to ponder that question for a second. What is he doing there, entertaining some dumpster-diver? Then he realizes that it doesn’t matter

His face merely contorts into an irritated frown and he mumbles something about “fucking raccoon beastpeople and their weird habits” then walks off

You watch his silhouette grow smaller by the second then shrug to yourself. His loss

He doesn’t say anything when you come back to the dorms carrying the junk you get from your scavenging but you can tell he’s somewhat curious of what you found

One time you come back bringing a wholeass couch and it’s somehow in mint condition - he’s more bewildered by the people who’s throwing the trash than you at this point

It’s definitely not for him but as long as you don’t bother him and that you’re happy, he doesn’t say a word about your habits.

Jack Howl

He tries not to be too judgemental since there’s all kinds of people in NRC and he feels like he’s definitely seen weirder things by now

He’s a little confused but he got the spirit! Spirit of what exactly? Spirit of supporting you and respecting his upperclassmen obviously

He’s somewhat stiff around you since you’re older and he doesn’t want to offend you in any way - so you make an effort to make him more comfortable around you

You’d tell him about what you find in your little adventures and he seems to be amused by the kind of stuff people easily throw away here

“That’s part of the magic! Plus, once you get used to the stench and filth, it’s really not all that bad.”

He believes and trusts your words but he still won’t try it for himself. He’ll leave it all up to you and your expertise

Sooner or later, with enough storytelling, a smile on his face becomes a common look for him whenever you’re around

You’d even bring him back stuff you found that you think he’d like (after thoroughly washing them and bringing them back to the best condition of course)

Whenever you see him use the stuff you give to him, whether it’s a decoration in his room or it’s on his person, you feel a little proud of the bond you’ve nurtured with him.

Ruggie Bucchi

He understands the need to stoop to that level but when you tell him you don’t even need the stuff you collect and just do it for fun, he’s silent for a bit

Still won’t judge you for it! Plus sometimes he gets the good stuff from your scavenges so he’s not complaining

Once he gets curious enough, he’ll tag along on the diving… and it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

It’s stinky and dirty but sometimes he really hits the jackpot in some of the dumpsters. It’s like a thrift store but even cheaper somehow

“(Y/N), look at what I found! Are you seeing this right now?”

You unironically become dumpster-diving buddies and the two of you would review the stuff you got after each session to decide if you’re going to keep some or not

You guys can probably get a lot of clout if you start a YouTube channel

You two grow a lot closer after enlightening him of the joys of dumpster-diving, which you aren’t too surprised about since it’s a common bonding experience for you raccoon beastpeople

But as you look back on your memories of junk-collecting and look forward towards Ruggie's laugh, you can’t help but laugh with him.

[bluebeary-jay]

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out.  It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel��

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

[foursaints]

ok the topic of barty crouch jr and the bone motif came up, but his specific phrasing here is what really sticks in my brain & is the basis of my stance on barty’s story as an allegory for bodily autonomy. yes there is something obviously satisfying in a character who spent 12 years under imperius, his body used a puppet, choosing to murder his abuser through transfiguration rather than a more conventional method like the killing curse. this is the only instance of death-by-transfiguration in the series. but i think the way he phrases this (became a bone, not ‘turned into’) belies a deeper understanding of barty’s relationship to having a body in general.

barty crouch being denied bodily autonomy goes far deeper than the imperius curse. i see it as sort of a haunting refrain that characterizes his entire life actually. he goes from servitude, to imprisonment, to switching bodies with his mother, to the imperius curse (kept under an invisibility cloak— he can’t even see himself), to the polyjuice potion, to that ironic “death” by the dementor’s kiss; his body goes on without his soul. it’s worth noting that the only time barty appears on-page as himself his body is controlled (yet again!) and forced to speak under veristaserum. do you think there was a strange comfort in that, for him? i just mean that he’s never known anything else.

i want to look at this through a hypochondriacal lens, where the experience of having a body (or being embodied) is a contestatory relationship wherein the mind strives for order/structure/immutability but the body is inescapable— it brings disorder, change, and a continual loss of control. the body is both fundamentally unknowable and hurtling towards death and illness: the hypochondriac seeks to rationalize & control this, but it’s ultimately an exercise in futility. i see these anxieties really present in barty crouch jr’s character: someone whose body has been puppeted or transformed into a different shape more than it has actually been his own.

i’m not saying that barty IS a hypochondriac (he’s not), but that his character arc functions inside the same epistemological framework: one where the unruly body is a prison because of how it’s subject to/harbinger of continual change. but this relies on a really clear division of the body and mind as separate entities. or even, like, a division between the body and this more ephemeral idea of “the self”— a soul that resides in the body but is somehow separate from it (and we know the soul is canon in the world of harry potter). barty crouch collapses this dichtonomy in a really interesting way with his statement: his father became a bone. as in, he is no longer himself and he is just that bone now. barty is introducing the idea that the soul doesn’t really matter or even exist, and that once your body takes the shape of something you fundamentally are that thing, for better or worse.

and i don’t know! this strikes me, especially coming from a man who has lived twelve years as an empty vessel— why would he believe in a soul if his has been erased and overwritten so many times? his own sense of self is too stifled and warped and stunted. this is the same character who was able to embody moody so fully and convincingly that it was impossible for even dumbledore to tell the difference. i think this was possible because of barty’s weird relationship to embodiment, where his actual “self” is hazy and loosely defined— perhaps the result of so many years having it denied, stifled, or unable to develop— but he becomes whatever shape his body is taking. (it’s interesting to note, too, that barty didn’t say that he transfigured his father. rather, he “transfigured [his father’s] body”, and this was enough for his identity to dissipate and him to become something else). to barty, the “self” is not an independent entity that is subject to the body’s change and disorder— his “self” is the very body itself, and all the fear, and change, and loss of control that comes with it.

this is why the ending with the dementor’s kiss gets me so bad. if the body is all he really is, then this fate is the perfect closure. barty is finally reduced to all he has ever been: erased. an empty vessel. just the image of himself, with nothing inside it. what’s really changed?

[gerbymoo]

💔💔💔Bucci Gang Dealing With a Breakup 💔💔💔

Because I love making characters who experience pain experience even more pain (◣ _ ◢)

Giorno The calm and collected blonde who had just begun to grow comfortable in letting his emotions out on display for you begins to regress back to keeping it all to himself. He doesn’t cry, he’s learned crying does nothing to fix the situation just as it didn’t fix the neglect of his mother. However, his inner turmoil prompts him to have other out of control reactions. He’s shaking more than usual, his concentration is completely off, his isolation is even more apparent even on days where it seems things are going to be okay. The others make attempts to dissuade Giorno out of these harmful habits but to no merit, it is best to let him decide when he is ready to talk about this. The thing with Giorno however is that he will also conclude there is no need to talk about it. He hurt you and you decided to move on. It was only logical, despite how detrimental of a loss it was to him. On rare occasions, he would sit in his room, spacing out and thinking about you in every little detail, all of the observations he had made of you. It would be weeks until he would finally shed a small tear, realizing how complacent he had been in just letting you go. He was ruthless and forthcoming in other matters but he felt great shame for not showing the same degree of importance to you and the relationship.

Bucciarati

Similarly, he tries not to personalize this too much as he understands the nature of the game. He is a capo after all, of course he wouldn’t be able to freely make time for you as much as he would like. However unlike Giorno, he is more quickly to fold over and realize the emotional mess he has become. His drinking is usually always under control, but now the others have pointed out how much he drinks, downing a whole bottle of wine in a sitting. He is always able to focus on things on a rational level not letting his emotions influence him too much, but he finds his hand shaking as he holds his phone, fighting himself to not call or message you out of desperation and a need to know that you are doing fine. He also feels great shame for letting it all go too easily and for just accepting it without much of a fight.

He is able to keep appearances with the others for the most part but there are subtle changes that everyone sees but no one wants to bring up. This is Bruno after all, he will always just put their needs over his own despite their protests. He misses you, he blames himself for absolutely everything. It will take him a very long time to be able to move on. He might check in on you just to ensure your safety but is always dying on the inside if he were to ever find out you moved on with someone who could provide you with something he never could. 

Fugo

Things end in a very chaotic way and immediately triggers his black and white perceptions of things. This was your fault, you weren’t being reasonable enough to understand the type of person he is. If it was his out of control anger that pushed you away from him then so be it, he obviously is in no position to make improvements on himself. Nothing much changes from his usual self other than he becomes even more snappy and becomes a bit too physically aggressive with potential enemies. He’s brought in by the older gang members about his need to cool off and even take some time to himself but he always refuses. If he were to take time off for himself it would only lead to worse things because the only thing that would cloud his thoughts would be you. You deserved better, you didn’t deserve the ticking time bomb that he was. He finally accepts how he had a large part to play because he was still that immature, defensive child even with someone as caring and as understanding as you. He decides it's best to just let you go for someone much more suited for you. He finds himself returning to playing the piano after years of letting it collect dust, preferring there to be some noise than the echoing silence of not having you there. 

Narancia

It’s hard for him to fully process and understand what it all means, or more importantly, hard for him to fully accept that your presence just wouldn’t be there anymore. The first couple of days he acts as if nothing had happened. The denial runs deep and he continues to be his old cheery self, joking with the others and looking at life through a bright lens because you’d come back after all, right? The weeks go on and it becomes more of a reality that this is how things will be from now on. He becomes more quiet, a bit more withdrawn and his zest is seemingly shot down for a lot of things.

Panic sets in and he finds himself hyperventilating more frequently, the others pointing this out of concern for him. The abandonment comes in in full fruition, having flashbacks of when he lost his mother and how his father couldn’t care less. Yes he still had the others but without you it felt entirely incomplete, there was always that caring and comforting presence of yours and it’s actually gone because of his own incompetence.  It’s only when he cries it out with Fugo when he realizes that you are gone for good this time, unable to rationalize or control his intense emotions about everything. 

Mista

Surprisingly, he is used to the nature of relationships, both long term and short term. This isn’t to say it doesn’t hurt him nor does he have to take some time to come to terms with what’s happened, but that’s just how life works after all. No need to dwell on it and no need to stop living just because you’re not in the picture anymore. And for a while, things seem to be going well for him! That is until he sees old pictures of you on his phone that he hasn’t bothered to delete. Or when he orders a dessert and realizes you aren’t there to share it with him. Or simply realizing how much he actually missed a lot of these small details of you, such as your scent, how your eyes looked in the sun, how your voice sounded when you called his first name. 

He smiles through the pain, and the others can see that it is a forced smile for the most part. He catches himself looking through old text convos in the middle of the night, berating himself for becoming so attached and in trying to figure out where he messed up. He repeatedly tries to find some sort of logical explanation through his own world, any pattern of fours or perhaps he hasn’t been praying as often as he needs to and this is divine punishment. He’s only open about it with some members of the gang, but soon lets the feeling come and go despite how hard it is to realize that this was one of those relationships he wanted for the long term.

Abbacchio

Everyone can see the growing storm cloud over his head as his demeanor becomes even more guarded, more gloomy and more rigid. He doesn’t talk to anyone, disappearing for a while and giving the reason that there are personal things he needs to take care of. Drinking is the easy part of it and he knows it’s not the solution, but the self destructive thoughts is what kills him on the inside. It’s not even a, we had a miscommunication type of situation, he begins to genuinely believe there is just something seriously wrong with him and that he will be incapable of forming healthy relationships from here on out. Or simply refusing to have something intimate with anyone that isn’t you. 

Bucciarati is the only one that catches him on his downward spiral and strenuously snaps him back into reality. He sobers up for the most part but refuses to want to know anything about what happened with you or where you are now. He rationalizes better with himself and returns to his usual routine, no questions asked. Unsurprisingly during the harder days, or when there is a reminder of you, he will use his stand to replay every single moment of enjoyment he had with you until he is to the point of exhaustion. 

Trish

Almost goes through the entire stages of denial in the span of a week once it’s set in stone that things are over. There is poison in her voice and how all of this is your fault and how she never wishes to ever see you again. She regresses back into that scared teenager, afraid of what will happen to her and with no indication of who to actually trust. She trusted you, and you did too and it takes a day for her to fully come to terms that it was also her doing to have pushed you away. She finds herself lost in thought of you, spacing out in risky situations and often enough to have the others bring her attention back to earth frequently.

In the final stages she cries her heart out, her eyes permanently puffy and swollen and her voice unrecognizable as he quarantines herself in her room. She’s still holding anger towards you but now mostly towards herself. She impulsively destroys every picture she took of you only to find herself taping them all back together after the matter. She becomes more in control of herself once the adrenaline runs out, and although it still hurts, she convinces herself of worse circumstances she has been able to overcome. 

[satelitis]

— FADE INTO YOU ♱ felix catton x reader

-> i think it’s strange you never knew.

pairings — felix catton x fem!reader

© content/ trigger warning — angst, hurt no comfort, right person wrong time (i’m evil), mentions of alcohol, death, loss of a loved one

juno yaps — i hate ollie & thank you @ivyppoison for encouraging me to write for felix and thank you @stvrlighttgabss for watching me endure this movie aka work of art / pos

requested? — yes/no

Rain's ambience was the only sound countering the silence at Saltburn. The shocking and devastating event of your best friend, Felix Cattons death had struck the whole estate with grief, and panged at their hearts. It felt like the tedious emotion was beating their insides with a stick, continuously.

You didn't know what to do with the information. Yet, it didn't matter, because all you could do was be paralyzed with anguish and the only way of expelling the trauma was crying, or screaming,however you couldn't even bring yourself to do either. You hadn't anyway, since the morning you found out.

The Saltburn Estate now lacked a sense of emotion and charm, Felix had brought and it plagued you with sorrow. Especially, considering Cupid had took his ghastly toll, and had struck you with his arrow, resulting in you pining and yearning for the dark haired boy.

God, you were so mad at him. Not for dying, not for leaving you too early, but for the simple fact that he was too goddamn oblivious to even give you five minutes together, happy and mutually in love. Giving you zero confirmation and satisfaction that you were star-crossed lovers destined to be. But, even Romeo and Juliet, despite being soulmates, had to reach their harrowing fate.

You and Felix only got to experience platonic interactions and it made you so regretful. If only you had stayed with him for five more minutes he would've took you into the maze, and not a random girl from the party. If only you had stayed five more minutes his death could've been avoided and you could be warm in each others embrace, lazily kissing, in the comfort of Felix's bed. But fate had other plans.

You weren't sure if you were supposed to be mad at yourself, or feel guilty for being too afraid to tell him your true feelings earlier, or if you were angry at Felix's oblivion. Wasn't it obvious? The way you looked at him alone, said a million words of adoration and infatuation. Wasn't one look enough? Obviously not.

And the worst part was, you were too late. At Olivers birthday party, you had enough of seeing Felix with all of these girls, not only at functions but back at Oxford as well. So you decided to face your fears and actually do something about the throbbing wound of Cupid's arrow, right in the bullseye of your heart.

You had always been studious and gifted at writing essays, so you did what you do best and wrote Felix a letter. You looked guiltily at it, as it sat on the night-stand. His name written in red sharpie on the front of the envelope. Your emotions, thoughts and true feelings towards Felix were laced upon the parchment and he never even got to know, let a alone see, touch or acknowledge the paper on which the confession was even made.

You sigh, getting off of the bed on which you had been residing for the better part of forty-eight hours, that being Felix's bed. Your hair was distressed, your shirt, one also of his and face stained, with old mascara and tears. You grabbed the letter off of the night-stand, and headed down the many corridors of Saltburn out to the burial spot in which Felix was lying.

The rain caused you to become drenched in a matter of seconds but letting Felix know your true feelings, rather late than never was way more important than worrying about the possibility of obtaining the common cold or worse Influenza.

You sat on the wet grass in front of the headstone. Trying to fight back the immediate tears that started to brim in your eyes, you spoke up.

"Erm, Hey Felix," you sniffed, "I really miss you a lot..." you paused, waiting for the one in a miracle chance of hearing his voice, and him telling you it was a cruel prank, but alas, with delusion comes reality and Felix's voice was never heard. You wiped your tears softly and proceeded to speak.

"I know it's too late and all but I wrote you a letter, I was going to give you..well I uh, did give you, I slipped it under your bedroom door, but uhm..you never came back to see it, so I'm going to read it now." you said, fumbling with the paper softly, tearing away at the envelope. You cleared your throat, quietly before reading the letter.

"Felix,

We've known each other since the beginning of our time at Oxford, and it's safe to say you're my best friend." you began, looking up at the headstone momentarily before continuing,

"However, there's something I haven't been telling you, and I've just been way to scared to tell you but honestly this would be way more easier if you weren't so goddamn oblivious." you chuckled softly, wiping your tears once more.

"So now Im being the bigger person and telling you that," you paused briefly taking a breath before continuing, however it's not like it mattered.

"I'm in love with you, and have been for a while now, Felix. I want to hold the hand inside you, I want to take the breath that's true." you admit to the boy, showcasing your plea he's never going to respond too.

"I look to you and I see nothing. You go off with all these other girls and it hurts because I want to be one of those girls, Felix. Not only one of those girls but the girl, Felix. I don't want to be another hookup, that's not what I'm saying, I'm saying that I want to have something real, be something real to you." you rant, like he's actually here and his fictious presence is making you flustered. You can almost see the teasing smile on his lips now.

"But I look to you to see the truth and I don't know what it is...you live your life, you go in the shadows. You go off with these other girls, you'll come apart and you'll go blind, to what's actually in front of you." you continued, "It's some kind of night in your darkness or a blind spot I swear, I thought I saw love in your eyes but I just colored them with what's not there." you confessed.

"I'm fading into you, Felix and it's kind of embarrassing that I'm falling this much for you, and quite honestly it's kind of strange you never knew." you gently confronted. "I'm literally a mess around you, even Venetia and Farleigh figured it out in a heartbeat. I'm honestly surprised they didn't say anything." you chuckled.

At this point, you were drenched, and the letter now fairly wet, and your handwriting just enough eligible that you could barely make it out.

"Long story short, Lix, I'm in love with you, I have been for the longest time and I will always be in love with you. Y'know like they said in those cheesy rom com movies we watched together, 'right person, wrong time.'" you recalled, now discarding of the letter in your first as you went from your heart.

"But goddamn, I'm so surprised you never knew." you admitted, shaking your head slightly a slight chuckle escaping your lips once more. The rain continued and you now concurred that it was time for you to go back inside. Things weren't going to change, you were still heartbroken, and will continue to be. Grief marked it's territory and has spread like mold throughout your body, but at least you know he knew.

[torialefay]

Hi Toria, I've sent inboxes to a few blogs, but no one seems to understand and I am just at a loss of what to do or who to talk to. You don't need to post this, I just think you are really kind and would understand, so I guess I just needed to tell someone who could understand where I'm coming from.

Stray Kids new album came out, as I'm sure you know and while I will always support the boys, the 'I Like It' song left me very emotional. I guess it brought up feelings inside of me that I didn't even know that were there based on past 'situationships' I had where that was the mindset. I didn't and still don't fully know why I reacted the way that I did, all I know is that it made me really fucking sad, Toria. I started crying and I didn't even know why, all I knew was that the words hurt, even though everyone else around me was talking about how amazing it was and how they were dancing to it.

The blame isn't on Stray Kids for this obviously, but I feel terrible still. This is the only song that I have ever disliked from them and I feel guilty about it. It also made me feel a bit differently about them and I feel guilty about that too. But I know I cant even say it on my blog because I will get murdered on this app, or called a fake fan, or be called a baby for how it made me feel. I can't help that I feel this way or the experiences I've had.

I don't really know why I'm writing all of this. I am just rambling too much, I have a tendency to do that. Thank you for reading this. Maybe I just needed someone to do it.., someone who I didnt think would judge me. I hope you have a great day, Toria 💕

hi honey, i contemplated posting this just because of what you said at the beginning, but i wanted to make sure that you know i read it and am supporting you from my lil corner of tumblr.

it can be hard to hear songs that get an emotional reaction out of you, and it is only human to do so. i hope you never feel bad about that. just know that it doesn't have to even be through songs. it can be through random things people say, movies, etc.

i'll never forget, one day a group of friends and i were watching a movie together and suddenly one of my friends started to cry uncontrollably. in the plot, there was mention of SA and because none of us had experienced anything like that, we didn't have a sort of emotional reaction. but we learned that day that my friend had been SA'ed and then had those memories flood back in that moment.

although each of us left the movie unaffected (for the most part), i know that movie will always have a negative association in my friend's mind & be remembered as something hurtful. that is absolute NO fault of her own. and for a long time after that, it made me feel very thankful that i'd never had to experience something like that & that i'd be able to go through my life unaffected.

that's a very long-winded way to say: i am so sorry that you've had negative emotions come out of this. and you're right, that has nothing to do with stray kids. i'm sure it is hard to watch people around you love this song while it has brought back bad memories for you. being honest, it also gave me very mixed feelings because of similar reasons. but at the end of the day, i hope you can remember that it is a song and not reality. that may not help at all, and in fact, it probably won't at this moment, BUT hopefully in the future it will be something that can bring you more comfort.

i would genuinely hope that stay wouldn't be upset with you for voicing your opinion & i'm sorry if that's the feedback you've received so far from talking about it. please do not let anyone invalidate your own emotions. it is completely OKAY to dislike a song. and it is completely OKAY for that song to change your views on things. although i do think it is fiction and we should try not to associate people with these fictional scenarios, unfortunately, that's not always how our hearts work.

i'm so sorry for anything you've gone through for these emotions to be brought up. i know it's not an easy thing to go through. you have my support 100%, and PLEASE, if you need anything at all, hop over to my inbox & we can chat some more, okay? ❤️❤️❤️

[council-of-beetroot]

I love your Tolys analysis so much! There's so much to look at when it comes to Tolys. His relationships with everyone are so complex. He's Ivan's favorite and learns to live around the abuse, he openly dislikes Gilbert, he's ride or die for Feliks, he enjoyed being with Alfred, even though he was still treated like a maid (but obviously a much times better than his usual situation). another sad thing is he's overly serious. He has to walk on eggshells so often, ofc jokes go over his head :(

I love looking at his relationships with others and can honestly see him having intimate relations with all of the above you mentioned as well as very complex ones at that.

So even in a non romantic way, I began to think hmm what makes them work well together, what draws them together and what drives them apart.

Feliks and Tolys

What works or draws them to each other

They know each other better than anyone. They've forged such a strong bond because they had to. Their marriage was purely political but they ended up making it work for a really long time. I think they both push each other out of their comforts since they trust eachother to do so. With Feliks, Tolys is one of the few people he feels truly comfortable to be around. They bring out the other's lighthearted side as well. They have each other's backs.

What drives them apart

They know each other so well they lack boundaries and communication between them can go poorly.

With Feliks, Tolys is one of the few people he's comfortable around and this unfortunately makes Tolys almost akin to a security blanket which puts a strain on their relationship. Also Tolys is not the best with straight forward communication and isn't good with explaining how he feels and setting boundaries which to someone like Feliks it's very hard to read and figure out the way to appropriately interact in response

Alfred and Tolys

What works or draws them to each other

To Alfred Tolys is a good friend, a good mentor and and doesn't dismiss him for his youthfulness.

To Tolys, Alfred is ambitious, driven, and innovative and Tolys finds him very interesting and he is very willing to experience life in the US.

What drives them apart

You know those people who are nice and you consider yourself friends with them but there's something that keeps you from forging a stronger bond because you just can't fully relate and understand each other because you've had vastly different life experiences? That's where I see them drifting apart and maybe not in like a breakup but they are on separate paths.

Also I think Alfred's naïvete and idealism would not mesh well for Tolys.

Ivan and Tolys

What works or draws them to each other

For Ivan, Tolys is kind, reliant, empathetic, loyal, and always willing to lend an ear and listen. Tolys knows Ivan very well and knows his softness, his fears, and sees his vulnerability, Ivan genuinely likes Tolys and is quite affectionate towards him.

What drives them apart

Ivan doesn't want to lose people in his life so in an effort to prevent loss he ends up pushing people away when trying to ensure they don't leave him.

Tolys just like with Feliks is driven by emotion before reason.

Read my fic I sum it up perfectly there.

Gilbert and Tolys

What works or draws them to each other

They have been a constant opponent for the other for centuries, they have studied each other as opponents and know just how intense the other can get and this breeds a mutual admiration for their former opponent, the way it feels in a final match and you see how well your opponent fights and you see an honour in them facing you.

What drives them apart

That's the problem is that no matter how much they try fate seems to bring them back together

Lietpru endgame perhaps?

[loquaxleemons]

More rainworld ramblings: DP spoils under cut

I may get hate for this hc but it's my headcanon not yours, and if you believe otherwise good for you.

Again I don't expect anyone to read these it just makes me happy to ramble.

After reviewing all SRS dialogue with Pebbles and NSH, its pretty clear they really don't get that their actions affected more than just their life. I mean they only mention Moon a few times, and usually it's because NSH brings it up.

I don't hate SRS as a character, they're written really well to make me feel so strongly about how bad of a friend they are to NSH and FP. And I still think they're a silly lil dude despite being, a terrible friend.

I'll review what we know.

First Offence: Spearmaster's pearl

The message seems really sweet at first glance and you think, man FP is being such a douche right now. And well he is, but he's also really young, and he's in pain, being cyberbullied by UI, and upset. Sun's approach is not very good for his current mentality, they come in preaching things FP already knows about, they berate him for not doing the experiment right and acting rashly despite him being in pain as his insides are getting eaten, and they know, him they know that he's emotionally immature and probably really upset, and they chose to send him something they knew would just make him more upset.

Second Offence: Watch in Horror Broadcast

-

[LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment SRS: I'm in noticing you are becoming more defensive. This obviously wasn't the end result I was aiming for, you know. SRS: Please respond to my messages. I don't want to leave it like this. I need someone to talk to. NSH: I don't mean to be cold, I'm just very worried. NSH: The activity I'm seeing from Moon's can is becoming increasingly... concerning. NSH: Our available options are rapidly diminishing, and I feel helpless to do anything. NSH: I can just watch in horror. SRS: ... NSH: You should have sent the messenger to Moon instead of Pebbles. SRS: Do you think that would have helped anything? NSH: To be honest, no... I'm not sure that it would.

Suns gets on NSH's ass for being upset Moon is dead. There is no, I'm sorry for your loss, or even comforting NSH. It's just "I need someone to talk to" it's about SRS, and how SRS feels. Not how NSH feels. And this is more apparent in the other broadcasts because it's just about Suns and how they feel about Pebbles or about Spearmaster.

Third Offense: Humiliated Broadcast

[LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment SRS: I'm just so frustrated. SRS: I feel like I've doomed not one. but two iterators. SRS: And in the whole process I've lost a great friend, who won't even let me help him. NSH: We make mistakes, it'll be okay. You know Five Pebbles really looks up to you. SRS: Yes, I know that, but... NSH: I think he's scared. Scared, and humiliated. Unparalleled Innocence spreading the news probably made him feel even worse. SRS: ...I think you're right.

this one is actually not bad, but still the conversation is about SRS, they don't ask how NSH feels despite being Suns' therapist friend this whole time.

Fourth Offence: Tragic and Big Setback broadcasts

[LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment SRS: I just don't understand... why hasn't Moon done anything about the situation herself? SRS: She was appointed as Pebbles' superior. She has the power to stop him. NSH: I've been very close with Moon, and I can tell you she is incredibly caring. NSH: And while her kindness is one of her greatest attributes, it is also to her detriment. SRS: Isn't this excessive, though? Surely she at least has a sense of self-preservation. NSH: I'm sure she convinced herself that she could help Pebbles. That she could bring him under control with words rather than forced action. NSH: She's probably still trying that now, unless her systems have degraded past the point of even allowing that. NSH: That's why this is so tragic to me. [LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment SRS: I remember talking with Five Pebbles not too long after he was first put online. He had a bit of defiance, even back then. SRS: It was an odd situation, to be certain. Its quite rare for one iterator to be made the administrator of another. Just as rare as them being built right next to each other. NSH: His lack of appreciation used to bother me. Moon was a great big sister to him! SRS: Yes, absolutely. However. Five Pebbles had a very strong drive for independence. He was never one to want to be told what to do. NSH: I think a lot of us were like that in the beginning. I remember being in that phase a very long time ago. It takes many iterations for our world views to develop and for us to realize the flaws in those lines of thinking. NSH: Unfortunately, from what I've seen, Five Pebbles seems to have plateaued at that phase. SRS: No, that's not true. I was helping him to get past it. We were making good progress, actually! SRS: The current situation, however, is going to be a very big setback...

I don't like the way SRS explains Moon to NSH despite him being closer to Moon than Suns is, you know Pebbles, NSH knows Moon.

And I just hate the whole big setback chat, seems like they're (NSH and SRS) objectifying Pebbles and treating him like a project rather than a person. Also feels like they're forgetting that he's younger than they are so he's still growing.

AGAIN despite saying all this I enjoy SRS's character, their role in the story and their dynamic in the group feels good, and real. It's exactly how a friend group like this would work. It just confuses me a little how people depict Suns often as a caring person when they are really never shown to be considerate of anyone's feelings like Moon or NSH is. I don't think SRS was a good influence on Pebbles, and might be the reason he's the way he is.

This entire thing is partially why I also don't really ship sunstone, but yk I still enjoy the Sunstone art and stuff. I don't waste my time chasing people I don't agree with. You've got your ideas I've got mine, I bet your art/story is beautiful it's just not for me.

[husbandomail-archive]

second part to this post!

N:

At first, it’s tough. Despite his good intentions the entire way, N was a public face for Team Plasma— there are reasons he went into hiding for two years, after all. That’s not to say he dislikes you— obviously the opposite is true, if he wanted you to be the second Hero— but N is now well aware that he’s different from the world around him. He’s not entirely sure how to work his way into a regular life; he’s not sure a place exists for him at all.

N does his best to appear ‘normal’ when the two of you are in public, but it can be difficult, because he missed out on so many experiences being trapped in his castle for his entire youth. He’s never been out to eat before; when you bring him to the Striaton triplets’ restaurant, he stares at the menu for ages with wide eyes, and when you assure him he can order anything he practically goes wild. He orders all sorts of sweet drinks, taking a few sips of each one before choosing something else; even though he has several plates of his own on his side of the table, he’s making eyes at your food too, hoping you’ll offer a bite of everything.

Now that he’s free, he wants to see and experience as much as possible, to make up for the loss of his younger years. It’s incredibly comforting to have you at his side through all that; he does feel eternally out of place, so he appreciates the fact that you’re so gentle and understanding with him. As his sisters told you, N is innocent— smart as he is, he keeps falling for clickbait articles online, and he responds politely to every scam email he gets. You bring him to PokeStar Studios and he talks through every movie. The two of you pass a street performer and he empties his pockets into their hat.

N remains fairly introverted, but even then, he falls completely in love with Nimbasa City in particular. Some of his favorite outings are when the two of you spend all night in the theme park, racing through the different arcades, watching as many different sports games as possible in a short amount of time. N is better at arcade games than you’d expected— it isn’t until after he’s thoroughly kicked your ass that he informs you he’s been playing these games for quite some time. You never stood a chance. And, naturally, your nights always end at the Ferris wheel; from the top of the wheel, with you at his side, he finally feels like he’s home.

Red:

Personal headcanon here but I think Red is only selectively mute. He does know sign language, but at this point he’s so adept with his body language that he doesn’t really need anything else. Red is only comfortable speaking to select people under very specific circumstances— and you’re one of them, because your Championship over the Elite Four earned you a quiet but genuine “Congrats” when the two of you were finally left alone. To other people it might seem rude, but you know how big a deal that one word is for him.

Unsurprisingly, his favorite hangouts tend to be quiet ones; he did choose to spend all that time alone on Mt. Silver, after all. Red isn’t really one for things like parties, although he’ll show up for a few minutes to show his support— he’s much more content inviting you to travel with him for a bit as he makes his rounds through Kanto again. He may be hard to read, but it does make him happy to have someone to curl up at the campfire with.

Being so quiet, Red is an acts-of-service type. You wake up every morning on your shared travels to find that he’s already made breakfast for you both; he’s also picked up some surprising domestic skills while by himself for so long, so if your favorite jacket gets torn while dodging wild Pokémon, he’ll stitch it back up for you as you catch your breath. He’s well-acclimated to walking the long routes of Kanto, so if you’re getting tired, he’s quick to offer one of his Pokémon to carry you until you reach the next town.

Red’s favorite thing to do as friends, though— battle together. It’s not a secret and it’s not a surprise. The only spontaneous part of his personality, he loves trying to catch you off-guard by launching Pikachu into a Volt Tackle, giving you a split-second to pull out your own partner Pokémon and devolve into an all-out brawl. He also loves multi battles as partners, because the two of you silently understand each other so well, there’s no way your dream team could ever lose.

Riley:

In general, Riley comes off as a fairly serious young man— but that’s usually just because he’s so busy. As the caretaker for Iron Island, a place where many people come to train or catch wild Pokémon, he typically has his hands full. Most of his rare free time is just spent at home catching up on chores or resting; he’s thrilled whenever you swing by to visit, even if the two of you don’t do anything spectacular. He’s very much a homemaker type, so he loves having someone around to chat while he cooks dinner, or maybe the two of you can curl up and watch a movie together.

Riley is always someone you can go to for advice. He doesn’t seem much older than you, but he’s wiser than you’d expect for someone with such a pretty face; if you’re having trouble raising a specific breed of Pokémon, or if you’re struggling with figuring out another friendship, he’s always willing to listen and offer suggestions. He’s very level-headed and logical, so he’s perfect to bounce ideas and worries off of, with his miraculous ability to calm you down.

Despite being so rational, Riley also loves to tease; his ability to sense auras means he can read you incredibly well, and as soon as he’s said something that gets you flustered, he just keeps going. It could be playful flirting, or it could be implying that your mother showed him your baby photos— either way, he’s hilariously amused by the way your face turns bright red. Even if you’re good at keeping a straight face, he can sense the way your emotions flare, and that’s enough of a reaction for him.

Every once in awhile, you’re able to get Riley off Iron Island. On those rare days, he loves spending time in the Canalave library, although he has all the mythology books memorized and will recite them to you whenever you ask. He’s another one who loves teaming up with you for battles; he’s always excited to show you the new Pokémon he’s raised, so the two of you become regulars at the Battle Tower. You’re such a good team that eventually they ask you to show up a bit less often, give other people a chance to win. Oops. 

[vysotzka]

last evening i've found out that i have lost one of my childhood idols, liam payne. my first reaction was a disbelief. i would never think im going to experience his loss so early, way too early.

i wasn't even seven years old when i've came across one direction's video diaries but i immediately knew those boys will bring so much joy and comfort to my life. and i was right, they stayed in my life throughout the best and worst years. we've been growing up together, even though we were apart. they were always there, and so was liam.

liam was a special person, a great person and he would be such an important part of the band. his voice was a different kind of gorgeous, such a talented soul, such a pure soul. until he lost his way, until all his problems began. he needed professional help and i'm so glad he reached out to get help. yet incredibly sorry he didn't get the help he needed, so sorry he didn't manage to get better and go be mentally healthy again.

yes, he was an abuser and i am not going to neglect it, neither am i going to defend his actions. all real fans need to face the fact, that somewhere along the way we've lost the good and pure soul he was, and it got replaced with a broken person. liam made mistakes, horrible ones and it truly disappointed many of us, if not all of us.

but he was our idol, he was, at some point, a person we'd look up to. a person we thought would be so trustworthy and kind, and he indeed was, he just got lost. it's such a loss to all of us, to all the fans who just like me were growing up together with one direction boys.

his music, their music, saved me many times. helped me throughout my worst time and my worst thoughts. and i wish i could've helped him in a way, i wish someone would've managed to keep him sane and healthy. nobody deserves to pass away this way. it's so painful and heartbreaking. my heart still refuses to believe that he's gone, and not coming back.

i'm so sorry liam, i wish we could've done something. i wish you healed, i wish you didn't make those mistakes you made. but you were just a human, like all of us. and we're not flawless, we're not perfect. i wish life was easier on you, i wish your mental health would've treated you better. i wish you would've been completely sane and i wish you've stayed the liam i've met back then in 2010.

that's how i'm going to remember him. a joyful, happy and healthy man, who helped so many people. i'm going to remember the boy full of love and passion for music. i'm going to remember the liam, who was a kind boy and who was there to help me throughout the rough times.

my heart goes out to his family, to his parents who had lost a child, their beloved son. my heart goes out to his siblings, who lost their brother. it goes out to his girlfriend who lost a loved one. and obviously it goes out to his son, bear, who just lost a loving dad. a boy is going to grow up without his dad's presence and it is heartbreaking. my heart breaks thinking of how mental health can affect your life. he deserved to get better, his family and friends deserved to have him in their lives still.

may he rest in peace.

liam payne, you will be remembered by so many. forever in my heart. 🕊️🤍

[heartsleevemag]

Newness and Nostalgia: Fall Out Boy in Raleigh, NC

By Jude McDonald

Like countless other teenagers grieving the loss of their youth as they navigate the turmoil, heartbreak, and insecurity of adolescence, I found my comfort in music – specifically, Fall Out Boy. The pop punk band from Chicago stood out to me from the moment they ended their hiatus, giving me words to describe abstract feelings I'd never been able to articulate. (After all, Pete Wentz can "write it better than you ever felt it.") Fall Out Boy's brilliantly bold artistry shifted over time as the band changed, bending and defying genres, and their fans followed them along the way. But I always found myself coming back to the classics, hoping that one day I’d get to hear my favorite songs live. And last Tuesday night at PNC Arena in Raleigh, North Carolina, I did. 

Raleigh was one of the earlier stops on Fall Out Boy’s current tour, So Much For (2our) Dust, in support of their most recent album, 2023’s So Much For Stardust. The band came with three phenomenal opening acts and the promise of a night to remember. The first opener was Games We Play, a new three-piece addition to bassist Pete Wentz’s record label. Games We Play’s infectious energy and endearing humility charmed the crowd without effort. Even though the arena was barely full, the three musicians played their hearts out, giving all their energy to the audience. Following Games We Play, Hot Mulligan took the stage. Their heavy, deep sound and emotional energy filled the room as the lead singer made the stage his own. No member of the audience was immune to the deep, reflective vibe. The third opener was crowd-favorite Jimmy Eat World. An undeniably classic band, they prepared the audience for the type of nostalgia that Fall Out Boy brings to the stage, oozing an enthusiasm that brought the whole crowd to their feet. 

My first thought once the curtain dropped and I heard those first heart-stopping notes of “Love From The Other Side,” was that Fall Out Boy’s production is breathtaking. With giant moons framing the stage, and lighting in all different colors, and the flamethrower bass (yes, you heard that right), there is no shortage of spectacles to be entertained by. And while the band generally keeps the show consistent in style and structure, there are a few surprises fans can expect to… unexpect. On the first SMFS tour, fans were tortured and delighted by Fall Out Boy’s newest addition: the portion of the set known as the “magic 8 ball.” The 8 ball, which they brought back for (2our) Dust, is a surprise song. In this slot, the band chooses a deep cut to revisit that usually shocks the audience – some of these songs are finally getting their live debut despite having been released almost twenty years ago. There are also other places in the set for them to shake it up, like lead singer Patrick Stump’s nightly piano medleys and the infamous fifth song, where “A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me” is on the official setlist but is sometimes delayed in favor of a surprise track. Either way, it’s apparent that the band knows we adore the new album, but also want the chance to hear our beloved favorites. Raleigh was graced with “Dead On Arrival,” “The Pros and Cons of Breathing” – its first live performance since 2007! – and “What A Time To Be Alive” during the piano medley (that one, I was extremely excited about). 

Overall, there was something communal about the entire experience; from the dad one row above me that had obviously been dragged along (and was endlessly amused by my hype and lyrical knowledge), to the really tall guy somewhere in the floor seats who seemed to pump his fists everytime I did, everyone in the room shared something special that night. Concert culture has changed profoundly in recent years, but this show took me back to when audiences looked out for each other and strangers became friends, just by loving the same music. If I ever see Fall Out Boy again – and let’s be real, I’m hooked now – I won’t hesitate to jump around and sing until my lungs give out. 

Fall Out Boy will be touring through early April, before taking a break and then jetting off for festival season. You can find the list of So Much For (2our) Dust dates HERE. And don't forget to check out our highlights gallery from the show below!

[jjwho]

Hi! I saw your post about the exchange thingy and before I answer I would like advice for 2024 :) my initials are JCH

What is actually the truth?

There are so many truths. Lately, I've realized one truth is that nothing in this world is exempt from the pain that life brings. Humans, animals, even plants and trees. I used to think when I was younger “why me?” when bad things happened but I never once thought, “everyone goes through these situations in some form or another”. Just when I think something “bad” or “unfortunate” happens to me, there’s something else that follows that puts it in perspective. For example; not long ago I broke up with my long term boyfriend and was obviously upset. Then, a few days later I found out my grandmother’s lung cancer came back and she is going to die soon, then poof its like my break up didn’t even matter anymore. I’m not saying this as a “poor me” type of thing, it’s actually comforting to know that I’m not alone and that everyone else in the world can/will experience heartache, loss, grief, loneliness, mental illness, etc. If other people can get through it, why can’t I? How could I ever be self centered enough to think “why me?”. Why NOT me? And unfortunate/bad situations are so relative. I’m thankful I got the chance to even have had a long term relationship whether it was mostly positive or not, I loved. I was lucky enough to love and be loved at one point. I could’ve never seen today, I could’ve died as a child like some people do. I could be in the middle of a war zone right now just trying to survive. Of course that doesn’t diminish my struggles but doesn’t it? My “pain” is someone else’s glory. Another truth is that, “the probability of being alive right now is the same as if you handed out 2 million dice, each dice with one trillion sides… then rolled those 2 million dice and had them all land on 439,505,270,846”. That’s your chance of being alive today right now in this moment in time. Yes, humans (and every other living thing)  have struggles and those struggles are real but if you zoom out, even having those struggles are lucky. I’m not speaking on the people’s experience in Israel or Ukraine or anything drastic and horrible like that because then you’d have to think if being alive is even worth it, I mean, life like that is horrible and inhumane and even worse than I can put into words. I’m talking about me, right now, in America, educated, and yeah I struggle, but in the grand scheme of things… I am so lucky. 

Hiii thank you so much for participating, wow that's a lot so I tried to summarize that so basically your truth is "Instead of looking at situations in such a negative way think of other people and realize that your situations is the better option while looking at others situations as theirs might be worse"

I see.

Here's your advices for 2024:

"One life, one chance, a world that doesn't care"

"The bee gets honey taken away and nothing given back"

I see in 2024 you need tk do what you are feeling called to do whether it's a project or voicing out your opinions or beliefs, because really you only live once in this lifetime and it's a world that doesn't care, you don't want to die with regrets right likeee

And I see you need to stop letting people take advantage of you, stealing your work or coping your work with nothing in return, you have to put an end to that, because who would even listen to your truth if you can't even stand up for yourself

You've got this girl!!

[bookishhealing]

Finding Light in the Darkness ~ #1

TW: Bullying, Depressive episode, mentions of s*icide

I'm starting out this first post by summing up who I am as a person. I am a 20-year-old woman who is in college and struggles with Depression, Anxiety, and PTSD. I often struggle with who I am as a person. With how I look, with how people look at me, and what they think of me. I am doing this blog for healing. For putting my truth out there. I will be discussing anything from friendships that have ended horribly to how college is treating me. Today, I'll talk about my experience with friendships during High School.

I'll start out with how I met these friends. We'll call them Haley and Rebecca (Those are not their names, I'm changing them for privacy and safety reasons). I met Haley in 8th grade in Pre-Algebra. We liked the same books and movies, and we became best friends pretty quickly. I had struggled with making friends in the past, and I truly believed that we would be friends forever. Flash forward a year later, Rebecca is a new student, and I become pretty fast friends with her as well. I introduce Haley and Rebecca to each other and they become friends, and later on, they start dating. They didn't tell me and they hung out a lot behind my back. I would sleep over at Haley's house, and bring over food. Of course, it was junk food. I thought it was a staple of high school sleepovers. But I hear Haley and her mother outside the door, and Haley's mother starts going off about how I'm "fat" and how this is why no one likes me. Now, keep in mind, I am a freshman in High School at this point. I can only assume Haley was telling her mother things about how I looked beforehand because that just ended up being who she was. She had no respect for other people. She got that from her mother. I think that moment really shaped how I look at myself and how I feel about myself.

I know now that it is not my fault she thinks that way. That she was and is unhappy with her life. But 14-15 year old me believed Haley's mother and took her insults and wrapped them around myself like a blanket. I began to eat more because the food was the only source of comfort for me despite the negative things that were said.

Flash forward again to March of my Junior Year of High School and COVID had locked down everything. Haley and Rebecca and I had multiple fights throughout those next two years (one ended up in a book I loaned Rebecca being burned at an end-of-school-year bonfire). I kept being drawn back to them like a moth to a flame. But this... this fight was the worst one yet. My mental health had taken a nose dive because my routine was thrown off track and I wasn't seeing anyone outside of my family due to school being shut down. My grandfather, who I was very close to had passed away the previous summer, and I watched him die. I had already been diagnosed with PTSD, Depression, and anxiety. I messaged the group chat between Haley, Rebecca, and I, and told them I wasn't doing great. That I was feeling worse than ever and my mental health was rapidly declining. They kept pushing me off and ignoring me in the group chat. I snapped, telling them I would drop everything and listen to them whenever they complained, or needed to talk about something as serious as their mental health. Haley turns around and says "We won't always care, or listen". That hit me like a punch in the gut. In my depressive state, I took that as "We wouldn't care if you ended your life."

I left the group chat and had to deal with the loss of friends on top of everything else. I ended up getting better obviously. I'm too afraid of death to actually act on thoughts. This wasn't supposed to be so heavy, but I guess I really needed to get it out. I'm better now, and I don't talk to them anymore even though I had reached out to Rebecca afterward and forgiven her. She had metaphorically stabbed me in the back again later.

Because of everything that happened with Haley and Rebecca, I find it very, very, difficult to trust anyone. To let anyone get that close.

I hope I didn't make anyone severely depressed after reading that. This is purely for my own healing.

[orange-orchard-system]

Same, op! As another introject heavy polyfrag system, it really does strike us a lot how rude some people are about any system they see outside of what they've convinced themselves are "real™" (and by that we mean they only view "acceptable" systems – with whatever arbitrary rules they use to make that category – as real systems, not that the systems they do see as "real systems" are faking)

While there are those of us who see themselves as "actually" their source, that doesn't mean we can't also be ourselves. If you somehow took our actual sources and stuck them in our brain with all our memories and system dynamics, you would obviously end up with someone who doesn't act/seem like they did before, because this is a very different situation than anything our sources would ever have to deal with. They'd adapt to all that, just like our introjects have.

The fakeclaiming for this sort of thing (lots of introjects) especially vexes me, because I understand why it sounds right on the surface, but it isn't once you tug on it the slightest bit. You're telling me this system has too many introjects to be real? In a day and age where people have access to more info and content about people and characters than ever before at their fingertips? When with just a few button presses, you can find entire communities based around comfort characters, self-shipping, celebrity crushes, and the like? When people are more and more often bringing popular characters and people into daily life with things like roleplaying to get chores done, imagining someone they like encouraging them, or even schools incorporating these popular characters + people into their course work to keep kids' attention on it? It's no wonder you hear about systems with lots of introjects nowadays; the opportunity for gaining them has gone up exponentially in the past few decades thanks to developments like these! (And this is happening alongside people gaining an increased awareness of bad things happening all over the world – which, hm, I wonder what that sort of stress can cause in a system? /sarcasm)

I try to keep an open mind and assume that people who are rude like this (minus the fakeclaiming, but even then I try to be nice when I have the energy) just legitimately don't know that what they're saying can be rude or inappropriate, but it can be grating, to say the least. It's a large part of why, while our introjects are often open about being introjects, they don't often say who they're introjects of to those outside the system. And those that do... are usually implicit only, because they've got very distinctive names from their source that they decided to keep.

It's a lot, sometimes. I'd like to talk on it more to bring more awareness to what being a system like this is like, but it's also just how we live, so it's kind of hard to figure out what to talk about. I usually end up with specific positivity posts and reminders, which are nice, but I'd also like more full discussions about this sort of thing (which don't feel like they're dancing along the line of system discourse).

It feels like a lot of the time, people are able to accept polyfrag and introject heavy systems in theory, but are at a loss at how to react when they come across systems like ours out in the wild. Especially when we bring up how being polyfrag and/or introject heavy can affect our life as a system; ex. having lots of headmates in front is a common polyfrag experience. So, they end up falling into fakeclaiming over made-up standards that don't actually mean a thing and are based upon systems that they see as easier to understand/stomach (to continue the example I gave before, they'd likely say something like "But it's impossible to function like that! All the other systems I know get unbearably blurry when they have more than one headmate in front (and that's already pushing the limits of what I can believe in), so there's no way you, a completely separate system that runs on entirely different rules, could function like that!") Thus, we go from strange/fringe to unacceptable to "fake" systems. Or at least, that's how it seems to me, based on what I've seen.

last post i reblogged really got me thinking about how... just plain weird it is existing online as a introject heavy polyfrag system. like, we don't really talk about this because people don't seem capable of being normal about it!!!

yes, im an introject of this character you like. no, that doesn't mean im ACTUALLY that character, and assuming that i am? uhhhhhh. i literally saw a post where someone was upset over "ooc fictives" a while back and. mate. im a real person.

and then you have the other side of the spectrum: people who equal introjection with "faking DID". which uh! nice ableism! man, i wonder what common coping strategy would cause my brain to form headmates based around characters and people who ive latched onto? hmmmm... how confusing! (massive sarcasm lol)

tl;dr people be normal about introjects, especially introject heavy systems, thanks

[calzonekestis]

The way Grace must be so. Overwhelmed. In every sense. From every direction.

Half the ST fanbase is awful to her for irrational and misogynistic reasons.

The other half is lovely, but in a way that is also overwhelming - granted in the best possible way.

She played a character in a well established series with a well established cast of regular characters - but people still respond the way they do to her character and her performance.

She filmed Stranger Things about two years ago now. She had a great experience, made some great friendships, but probably - as actors do - moved on to the next thing until the project is released and ready to be promoted.

She was absolutely unprepared for the ugly side of fandom, the hate and libel and sexism because she dares to live and and breathe and exist.

She was absolutely unprepared for the lovely side of the fandom, people traveling and waiting hours in line just to bring her gifts and let her know much her character meant to them and how much she means to them. Like, all those gifts? Yeah, she’s gonna have to bring those back on a plane to the States with her. It’s a Process.

And again, two years ago, her team got an email and she was like “oh cool that’s a good show, I’m gonna try and go out for this and if I get it will be a great thing to have been a part of.”

So she gets the part, the character is crafted. And she moves on. Season Four drops, biggest exposure of her career, and this is just her life now. The touching and the unpleasant.

I hope she’s taking care of herself, has a good support system - because even if there wasn’t so much Bullshit afoot… like. Again, overwhelming. What other word is there for it?

And it was completely unexpected for her, and like. Yeah, I get that. She didn’t know how long she was going to be there for, only so long as they needed her, she wasn’t going to be an addition the regular cast - she’s there to serve a function and drive the plot for other characters. Those characters and the actors who portray them often don’t get their due, so the fact that people are actually recognizing all her hard work and that it resonates with them?

I don’t know Grace, but she strikes me as a very grounded person. Humble. Self aware. She knows she’s not on the poster, that this is a show with an established audience. She didn’t think anyone would be watching specifically for her and her character, but it probably never occurred to her that her character would become somebody’s favorite. Like you hope people don’t dislike your character, obviously, that there’s a good response, but you know she was probably like…

“My character? Who was only in like one full episode, of a show that’s been on for four seasons and six years and has such a large ensemble cast? I was someone’s favorite character? They’re making fan art of my character? 🥺”

Like of course she’s moved by that, loves that, wants to appreciate and support the fans who loved her character and supported her performance.

The fact that’s something that’s such a natural and understandable thing, that apparently so many people want to shame is just absurd.

Again, we only had Chrissy for one episode - and she was a character who served a specific purpose in the story. Being a competent and professional performer though, Grace went ahead and still gave it her all. Made her a person and not a plot device. Made her an actual character that you love and empathize with.

You want good things for the lil cinnamon roll. You want things to get better for her... and the you feel the loss of her. She gets like a Moment with Eddie on her last day, where she can smile and laugh and feels comfortable and at ease. And then she’s gone.

Things don’t get better for her, it’s a tragic end. It’s like giving your pet one last treat when you know it’s their last day.

And just. Hello, this has been my life since the end of May. I adore this character, I adore this performer.

It’s too late for the character to be okay - but the performer is more important anyway because she’s a Real Person and just. I hope she is/continues to be/will be ok.

Like I don’t doubt it, but still.