#mica talks

[thisloveisbad]

hmm this might be controversial

[0rchidm4ntis]

We'll be alright.

[serenescribe]

another ficlet idea: lilia and silver bonding together in the secret garden au \o/ are they playing a game? chatting together? ill leave that one up to you!

[✐] ficlet frenzy

“Regardless of whether you may be ready or not… here I come, little one!”

He stifles a giggle by pressing his palm against his lips, back pressed against the rough expanse of bark and moss. Silver is hiding, nestled behind a particularly ancient tree with roots so monstrously large that they tangle together into dips and crannies he can hide within. He can feel his heart thumping in his chest, the adrenaline of the game seizing hold of him, but there is no real fear there, only anticipation.

It is yet another day in this secret, wonderful garden he stumbled upon in the woods. His refuge, his little paradise away from the orphanage. It isn’t as though he hates it there; his friends are nice, and he loves to play with them, and some of the adults are kind enough to sneak him a few extra treats, or a gift or two. But here, tucked away within the rounded stone walls of a secret garden, is something special — an earthly paradise of the most beautiful flora and fauna, and a friend who smiles at him and plays with him — all his, all for Silver alone.

They’re playing hide and seek again. They’ve played it many times before. But no matter how many times they do it, there’s always somewhere new to hide. Silver always discovers new spots to tuck his tiny body away in, peering out from the wispy leaves of the trees, or ducking his head as his friend peers through a crack in a wall that he’s hiding within. In this little garden, this special place, there is always something new — and can anyone really blame Silver for wanting to come here again and again, whisking himself away into a wondrous world of his fantasies made real?

He holds his breath, eyes wide as he hears a faint thumping of footsteps go by. He must’ve gotten distracted; is his friend close by?

Silver’s friend is… how can he describe him? He doesn’t have a name for him, always referring to him as mister, but he is kind to him, always welcoming him in with a fang-toothed smile, his long black-and-red hair swaying behind him in gentle breezes of springtime wind. He presses sweet treats into Silver’s hands, swings him around merrily into a dance, and plays game after game with him before they collapse into rambling chatters of anything and everything that’s on Silver’s mind.

Silver loves his friend. He really does!

And yet, there is a line he dares not cross.

Beware of the faeries, the adults have always told them. Those of the orphanage are more superstitious than most, having experienced strange activity in the woods time and time again in spite of the modern era they all live in. For as long as Silver can remember, he has been taught painstakingly about how to deal with strange, beautiful people, those who wish to lure him away. Be polite to them, reject their food, and above all else, do not give away your name.

It’s the reason why his friend calls him child and little one, affectionately referring to him as dear. It’s the reason Silver carefully puts aside the ripe fruits and sugary treats he receives, always claiming that he isn’t hungry, and always making sure to eat before he comes so he isn’t telling a lie.

And yet, in spite of all the dangers, he keeps coming back.

“Found you!”

He squeaks as a shadow falls over him, two glinting red eyes peering down at him. His friend grins cheekily, before reaching down to scoop Silver up, lithe limbs betraying a supernatural sort of strength. “What a devious hiding spot,” he teases, “to take advantage of your small statue and hide amidst the roots of the trees! You grow better at this every day, dear.”

Silver squirms slightly, though he leans into the hold soon enough. His friend smells nice, like fresh forest pines and sweet fruits mingling together into something that clings to his nose. Everything about him just brings such an ease to Silver, a happiness he could have never possibly dreamt of.

(And yet, he still hesitates. He still notices the unnatural swiftness of his friend’s movements, the otherworldly beauty that drapes off of him, the way the garden seems to shift day after day, growing and twisting at an otherwise impossible pace.

There is a tinge of iron that clings to his scent.

Silver is happy here. He is safe. But—)

“You must be thirsty after all that hiding.” He feels himself being placed down onto a soft patch of grass. Silver watches as his friend pulls out an elegant little leaf cup out of nowhere, filled with something glistening and shimmering, with a scent that makes his mouth water. “Why not quench your thirst, hm?”

(Does he trust his friend?)

Silver blinks at the drink offered to him.

And then he smiles.

“Thank you for the offer, but… it’s alright!”

[wardensantoineandevka]

so, with the confirm here in 3.13 that Saskia is very committed to blowing up the Vault, it is time to raise a question I've LONG had and now feels relevant: what happens if you kill one of the Saskias?

personally, I imagine it'll suck like HELL, but she won't like... die. but, like, seriously, what happens.

[pocketgalaxies]

mica: *very thorough answer about reani's motivations to help the m9 based on her relationship with umagorn and samliel*

mica: also she thinks a lot of people in the group are attractive.

marisha: :D :D :D :D :D :D

dani: WHICH ONES DOES SHE THINK ARE ATTRACTIVE?

[cosmic-tuna]

BEHOLD: EC-501.

This is the cut I specified that I wanted my thin section to be on because look at those big chunks of mica layers!!

[nezumidou]

I thought about it during the live in celebration of the new season of TLOVM and now seeing the photo of the roundtable for the first 6 episodes...

So few women idk

[loaksbitch]

PPL R VILE OH MY GOD😭😭

PLS THIS JUST MADE ME GIGGLE AND WHEEZING AT THE SAME TIME 😭😭

[thetimecrystal]

doing my first actual lecture because i have to, even tho i prefer to work asynchronously.... s i g h

[hansooyung]

top 5 silly people

SILLIEST PERSON AWARD GOES TO JO BIXIAOSHI.

jo bixiaoshi. reasons: kdj werewolf, mr chalant, escape room

phos squidokja. reasons: Hiii louis 🚉, "Im the alpha"

aki taohs. reasons: women. also insanity

gaby kimdokjas. reasons: never reads, ring ding dong, niche recs.

kay kyaa-a. reasons: boom shakalaka, misattributing things, kermit emoji

[radiokathryn-if]

how would the RO’s be in a red string of Fate AU? (cut to Nate desperately trying to cut the string off his finger bc he’s engaged lmao)

So the Red String Of Fate is one if my favourite AUs because if the origins of the myth!

In the ancient Chinese myth (and please correct me if I'm wrong!) the string is actually wrapped around the ankle rather than the pinky finger like in Korean and Japanese folklore! That the string connects you to the fate you're destined to have and with the people you belong with to achieve that fate.

My favourite “take” on this story is how it applies to all kinds of people, and even multiple people! I think that because of my understanding as a person who is not only pan(sexual) and open to polyamory but also demi(romantic) with a unique perspective through my best friend in to an aroace mindset that the thout of soulmates being strictly romantic and forever only one person is a bit bizzare──humans are people people, not person people... if that makes any sense.

I love exploring different 'avenues' of what connection means to people and how to push conventional boundaries as to what fate and destiny could be. That you have thousands of strings and they are woven together to create your tapestry of Fate (and this is where my favourite mythology comes in──greek mythology!) that is ever changing because the threads fray when you lose a connection or they gray out when someone dies, not fraying because even though they're gone they're still important to you, that the brighter strands are the people who mean the most to you.

I adore it──the introspection into human connection. (I love reading through aroace and poly story's for that exact reason!)

But back to your question! In the classic sense of the Red String Of Fate AU where it's Romantic Soulmates:

You're right, Nate absolutely detests his string──the whole concept of soulmates really. What really gets him is that he hates the feeling of no control, that there's no choice to be made that his string doesn't lead to the one he asks to marry him. He learnt a long time ago how to ignore his string, how to ignore the tug when you leave his side, how to ignore the tingles on the tips of his fingers when you're closer, how to ignore you... it's sad more than anything else──that his need for control, his vision of life, deprives you of a soulmate connection too.

As stated before, Eva truly is a romantic at her core and the thought that she has a soulmate is something she dreams of. Life, however, isn't a dream world and she also believes in agency and making decisions for herself. Though if there's anything Eva regrets it's saying yes to Nate when he proposed to her. Young naivety can only go so far as an excuse when she long for the tiny ounces of warmth you bring her when you cross paths. She keeps it a secret, but the hope that you'll snap her out of the predicament she's in keeps her heart pumping and her fingers tingling!

Mica is a little bit of a different story, considering your connection to each other already. In terms of the Original Universe, Mica might be the closest thing MC has to a soulmate that universe has, platonically or romantically. Mica loves you. Full stop. The fact that fate says you're destined to be in each others life is just the cherry on top for them. It's always been easy to be in their presence, and they will never push romance on you──if you get there, that's where fate has taken you!

The concept of 'soulmates' is... strange to Detective Han, to say the least. They don't... not believe in it but they aren't particularly bothered to chase it either. I think when they finally actually realise what the tugging and the warmth and the tingling means is when they'll get a bit... tense around MC. They don't know how to navigate this and they'll eventually be ready to try──all they ask if for your patience and with time comes their love tenfold. (As fate would have it, it turns out.)

José likes the sentiment of having a Fated One, but putting it in their real world makes them a bit apprehensive. They don't like the thought of not having autonomy and while there's comfort in knowing there's someone out there just for them (and for them to give their heart to in return) the discomfort of not knowing can be a little much. They don't like the weight of expectations. It's difficult, when they make the choice to leave your side before your connection could really bloom─and it was certainly a tough decision─but they must believe that you'll come together when you're supposed to... they're just not sure if they actually do.

Ji Han grew up listening to the stories of these myths from his mother. It's something he yearns for silently. He wants you so much he'd do anything to keep you in his heart. But he's a gentleman first and lets you take the reigns──to go at your pace. In this world he might believe he can have his love at first sight, and if he has his way the sight of his love would be his last, to bless him for his next life to be with you once again.

With Fauve fate is... subjective. In this world she tends to wear gloves. She doesn't like the way she feels when she sees her string while she's... entertaining others. It's not necessarily that Fauve hates the idea of soulmates, it's just that she can't fathom that she'd ever get to meet hers. When she was younger she used to fantasize about her fated one, and her hopes for who they were always came crushing down when it never was who she thought, in the end. Upon meeting MC she may not even realise she just met her fated one until it's too late and after the decisions she's made surrounding you freezes her heart at the thought you wouldn't want her anymore. Dilemmas, dilemmas.

For Jackson, I've chosen to believe Fate gave him a second chance string. That his first red string led him to his daughter, Cilly, and the second will lead him to you. The problem, however, is that that first experience with Fate has left Jackson both weary and jaded to the idea. That while yes, it gave him his most precious thing, the live of his child, it also left him with a shattered heart and scars on his soul. Fortunately, he's not completely closed off, like Nate is, but like Detective Han he needs time to build up trust and let his walls down──for himself!

??? adores his string and the person on the other end of it. Growing up in the way they did left them alone most of the time, betrayed by their family and sent away. They hold out their hopes of love even when their body is cold from being so far away from you and worships the feeling of warmth as the two of you get closer once again.

Bonus! The Poly Routes

Jauve (Ji Han/Fauve)──They balance each other out very well here. Ji Han allows Fauve to accept and acknowledge her feelings towards Fate sooner than she would on her own──coming to terms with it more healthily and giving her more perspectives on how to goes about her choices around her fated ones than she does on her own. And Fauve makes sure Ji Han takes his time to properly love, to savour the feeling with time and introspection and creating connection before blindly jumping into it. They let's each other believe in more ways to love people, to bask in those feelings and to become better people than they thought they were capable of.

Eva&???──for ???, there's that sort of hurt in his chest at just how much they get to breathe when with MC and Eva. ??? never really thought they'd get to even have one soulmate let alone two! The build up of emotion they feel... is like it could burst out if their chest──explode their very being at any second. So they bask in the feeling of you, fingers digging a little too deep into their hold on your connection. For both of them it's all about second chances. It feels like fate has decreed to spare them more suffering and gifted them something so wholely special. Eva especially thanks whichever god's bound her to two beings, the scars and hurt from Nate seem to just melt away when you're around and she can finally relax her heart once again...

#peoplechangepeople🧡

[thisloveisbad]

after a few days, here's my ranking of 1989 from the vault:

1. is it over now?

2. suburban legends

3. slut!

4. now that we don't talk

5. say don't go

[0rchidm4ntis]

hey lol *pmmms your 2wink*

[serenescribe]

a very happy birthday to mica @0rchidm4ntis my beloved!! i wrote them a gift fic featuring our selkie silver au :D i hope you all enjoy it as much as they did!

When Silver comes to, it’s to the scent of salt in the ocean’s breeze and the chill of the night’s air against his exposed skin.

He shudders, teeth chattering as he hunches into himself, instinctively moving to hug himself. Something soft and heavy wraps around him, draped over his shoulders, the fluffy fabric shielding his skin from the cold night. Blinking in surprise, he glances up, watching as a face comes into view — crimson red eyes, black hair with streaks cut into a stylish bob. It takes a little while for his exhausted mind, muddled with fog, to catch up, but Silver eventually relaxes as he recognises the sight of his father.

“Silver,” Lilia murmurs, hands coming to rest on the fabric cloaking his shoulder. Silver drinks in the sight of him: dressed in a loose sweater and sweatpants, feet covered by boots. A warm hand reaches up to stroke his cheek; “How are you feeling?” his father asks him, voice low amidst the sound of the sea breeze.

“I’m…” Silver swallows, throat dry. “I’m fine,” he replies, leaning into the touch.

Lilia exhales, a small smile gracing his face. “That’s good,” he says, leaning away from him. With him taking a step back, Silver takes a moment to glance over his shoulders, to peer around where they are. He twists his foot against the ground, the grooves of the wooden planks below rubbing into the soles of his cold feet — they stand on one of the many piers along the beach their town is most known for, the silence only broken by the crashing of the waves against the poles of the pier they are on.

“Ah,” Silver breathes, eyes transfixed by the mesmerising pattern of the sea, swishing back and forth as though she were a graceful dancer. He turns away as he feels a hand come to rest on his arm, meeting his father’s concerned eyes. “Did it happen again?” At Lilia’s wordless nod, Silver stifles a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Father,” he murmurs, heat flustering his cheeks; he truly does feel ashamed. “How late must it be…? You should not have had to sacrifice your own sleep to stop me.”

“And let you walk into the ocean asleep?” Lilia retorts, a sudden fierceness seizing his words. Silver squirms as he feels a finger tap his forehead; “What must be going on in that mind of yours to say such a thing? I am your father, Silver. What kind of a parent would I be to let my son go sleepwalking off the pier?”

He presses his lips together, not knowing how to respond to that. In all fairness, his father has a point — if it were Lilia who was constantly walking off in a sleep-struck haze, headed each and every time to the ends of the creaking piers, Silver would gladly give up every minute of sleep to stop him and guide him back home. But because the situation as it stands involves the opposite — Silver walking, and his father stopping — Silver cannot help but feel bad.

He knows his father is not young, even if he does have an awful habit of staying up into the wee hours of the morning. Silver hates the thought of burdening him in any capacity.

A hand reaches for his own, fingers interlocking together before squeezing tightly. “Come now,” his father tells him, a soft smile on his face, the faintest etchings of wrinkles crinkling his features — even at his age, he still retains a youthful allure he takes pride in. “Let’s go home, Silver.”

And Silver obliges. He allows Lilia to pull him away from the pier’s edge, his bare feet — cold and aching, the extent of the abuse seeping in with each step taken away, his head and senses clearing as he comes back to himself — padding against cold, wet wood, before landing on soft sand and then a coarse path. His other hand creeps up instinctively to clutch at the soft fabric draped over his shoulder, and upon closer examination, glancing down as Lilia leads him away, Silver realises that his father’s coat is wrapped around his shoulders.

“Father,” Silver calls, as Lilia leads them across a deserted road, barely any vehicles driving about in the dead of night. Above them, the stars twinkle bright; here, with the lights switched off in this small town of theirs, with only some flickering street lights to guide their way, the sea of stars wink down from up high. “Are you not cold?”

“I’ll be fine, Silver.” His father waves his free hand as though dismissing his concerns. “Really, dear, it’s sweet of you to keep fussing over me, but you ought to spare a bit of concern for yourself.” Glancing over his shoulder, those dark eyebrows press together as Lilia looks at him. “Again you’ve sleepwalked to the beach on your own, and yet you continue to fuss over me. Ah, I should have brought an extra pair of shoes with me…”

“Father, it’s fine!” Silver blurts out when he sees him stop, moving to tug his boots off his feet. “Really,” Silver insists when Lilia gives him a hard stare. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think your shoes would fit me anyway…”

“Right,” Lilia sighs, abandoning the plan. Pressing a hand against his chin, he shakes his head morosely. “Really, why must you have grown so tall, dear? I do miss the days when you were much smaller than me; how adorable you were back then, toddling around in my shoes, trying to be taller!” “Father!”

A cheerful laugh echoes out in the cool night, and Silver cannot help but relax at the familiar sound, the sweet melody of home, of his father. Lilia continues to lead the way, their hands intertwined, low voice beginning to tumble into a tangent about how he wishes Silver were smaller, if only so he could carry him once again! Silver leans into the sound, allowing it to trickle into his ears and consume his thoughts; his heart fills with such a fierce warmth, the powerful love he holds for the man who took him in, who raised him into who he is today.

(And yet, with every step taken away from the pier, the beach, the endless rippling waves of saltwater, it is like something weighs down his every step. Some innate part of him struggles to go home, to leave the sea — come back, she sings to him, a siren’s song luring him back… back…

…What was he thinking about again?)

Click!

Warm lights flood the house as they step inside. Silver shudders, his feet sore and utterly cold, but he still forces himself to hang up his father’s coat as Lilia takes off his shoes, leaving them by the door. “You ought to go warm yourself up,” Lilia tells him, stepping over to press a hand all over Silver’s face, before glancing down at his poor, abused feet. “Why not take a hot shower?”

So Silver does. The warm water reignites him, muscles relaxing into the gentle spray of heat as he washes off any lingering traces of sand and sea. By the time he’s done, changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas, his previous ones dirtied by his unplanned excursion, he comes down to the kitchen to see his father brewing something with the kettle. “Here,” Lilia tells him, sliding a mug across their wooden dining table; Silver wrinkles his nose at the strong smell that wafts off the dark surface of the liquid, far too many intermingling scents overpowering his nostrils. “A nice cup of tea to help you sleep later.”

“Thank you, Father,” Silver says, pretending as though he doesn’t want to gag at the pungent stench. He holds his breath as he takes a sip, choking the hot liquid down. It isn’t as bad as his father’s usual blends, he discovers. Unless I’ve managed to get used to it?

For a while, they sit in silence. Lilia sits across from him, nursing a mug of his own, twin steaming cups of hot tea they both sip at periodically. There is no sound; the radio is off and the windows are closed. Silver finds that he doesn’t mind the quiet atmosphere, not when he can see the serene expression on his father’s face — a smile, intermingled with what Silver thinks is relief.

It isn’t until he’s managed to finish about half the cup and has slid it away from him that he hears his father speak. “How much do you remember of tonight, Silver?”

It’s a question Lilia asks him whenever this recurring incident of sleepwalking to the piers occurs, regardless of whether he brings it up on the walk home, while he’s tucking Silver into bed, or even as they stand at the edge of the wooden boardwalk. Silver reaches for the cup — not to drink, but rather to wrap his fingers around the warm ceramic, fingers tapping lightly on the smooth surface, a graphic labelled ‘World’s Best Son’ plastered across it (His father has a matching one). He wracks his brain, sifts through his thoughts, only to sigh and say, “I only remember going to bed. Then… nothing.”

Lilia purses his lips, a shadow falling over his face. “So it’s just like every other time,” he murmurs.

Guilt gnaws at his insides. “I’m sorry, Father—”

“How many times must I remind you not to apologise for this?” His father interrupts him, voice stern, and Silver’s mouth immediately snaps shut. Lilia softens almost immediately after, the corners of his eyes creasing as he glances at him before saying, kindly, “This is not your fault, Silver.”

“B-but I know how much you don’t like me going to the sea—”

“If I found out you walked to the piers with the intention of jumping in while conscious, then yes, I would be mad.” A finger painted with black nail polish, chipped and peeling off, rubs against the rim of the mug. Lilia presses his other hand against his cheek, though he doesn’t pull his eyes away from Silver, staying focused on his son. “But sleepwalking there with no recollection of doing so? My dear, why would I ever be mad at you for doing such a thing? It would be punishing you for something you have no control over.”

“I wish I did.”

The words come spilling out before he can stop himself. Silver winces, tearing his gaze away. He stares pointedly off to the side, fixating on a potted plant tucked in a corner of the room, leaves flush with green health, a sign of how much effort Silver has put into tending to their houseplants. Eventually, he hears “Silver—”

“I know,” Silver sighs, shrinking into himself. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“Again, why must you continue to apologise?” Steepling his fingers together, Lilia narrows those crimson eyes at him, chin resting on his interlocked hands. “Issues of your health are not your fault, Silver. And while I can understand your frustration about having zero control over this situation…”

His eyes soften. “Try not to be so hard on yourself about it,” he tells him. “Alright?”

And despite the bile at the back of his mouth, the way his stomach twists itself into anxious knots over it, Silver nods silently. What else could he possibly say that wouldn’t cause Lilia to lecture him about his self-imposed standards?

Lilia leans back in his chair. “Good,” he says, satisfied. “It’s rather late. If you aren’t going to finish your tea, you ought to head to bed.”

Silver agrees. Which is why he pushes out his chair, attempting to bring the mug over to the sink only for his father to bat his hands away, assuring him that he will take care of it. But Silver winds up lingering in the kitchen doorway, watching as Lilia dumps the leftover tea down the drain before rinsing both cups and leaving them to dry. His hand wraps around the side of the doorway, hesitating to leave and go climb up the stairs, and it isn’t long before his father notices his presence, turning around and blinking at him with wide, curious eyes. “What is it, Silver?”

“Could you…?” Silver hesitates, glancing off to the side, a sudden swell of embarrassment seizing him. How old is he now, sixteen? And yet he still feels the urge to ask his father to accompany him upstairs to bed, as though he were a child… Really, if Sebek were to see him now, Silver would be in for a slew of remarks about how childish he’s acting. But all the same, Silver is exhausted and, strangely enough, sad; is it so wrong for him to wish for Lilia to bring him to bed?

In the end, he needs not voice any of his internal dilemmas. “Would you like me to come with you?” Lilia asks.

Silver nods.

So his father brings him upstairs, tucking him into bed as though he were a child again. He finds Silver’s old plush toy, the one he’s had since he was but a baby — a ratty little bat toy he’d affectionately named ‘Mr Batty,’ when he was old enough to ascribe it a title. “I remember when you were just barely bigger than him,” Lilia reminisces as Silver tugs the plush from his hands, a smile dancing across his lips. “Why, I believe I still have some pictures somewhere of that!”

He feels his cheeks pink, arms wrapped around the tattered toy — patched up with fabric scraps over the years and re-stuffed with cotton filling. Silver leans into his father’s touch as Lilia wraps his arms around him, before pecking a kiss against his forehead; it soothes the part of him that feels vulnerable and strangely sad, a feeling that has lingered with him ever since he’d left the beach. “Don’t go wandering off to the sea now,” he teases as he reaches for his table lamp, grabbing hold of the chain. “I doubt I’ll be able to wake up a second time tonight!”

And when Lilia leaves the room, his body a silhouette in the doorway, light from the hall streaming through the door, Silver raises his head. “I love you, Papa,” he calls out sleepily, the old name he’d used when he was but a child slipping out without thinking.

Tired as he is, falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, he does not notice the way his father lingers in the doorway, one hand resting on the jamb as he gazes at his sleeping son. Nor does he see the expression of twisted regret that taints his features, shielded by the shadows of the room — his brows dipping downwards, lips pressed thin, a dull look entering his weary eyes. Guilt, that’s what it is, an emotion so strong it spreads throughout every inch of his body — his tense shoulders, quivering hands, and the almost obsessive way he seems to look at Silver over and over.

“Love you too, Silver,” Lilia breathes, after a while. He closes the door with nary a sound, and retreats back to his room, making sure the old baby monitor he’d dug out of storage is still working on his end — a way for him to detect sound, to tell when Silver’s begun sleepwalking again.

Remorse claws at him from within, tearing into him with deep gouges. Lilia detests it — the idea of deceiving Silver in any capacity, of the white lies that spill past his lips; he always wakes up because he’s been keeping a deliberate ear out for Silver through the little monitor he’s hidden amidst Silver’s numerous stuffed toys and pillows.

But for as long as that seal’s skin lays under Lilia’s bed, tucked away in its chest, Lilia will keep his secrets close to his heart. In the end, he will do whatever it takes to keep his son safe and by his side.

[stalagmighty]

since there will probably be guest pcs introduced when we see laudna orym and ashton’s side of the story, obviously it would be a good opportunity to bring in players that haven’t been on cr before or returning guests that haven’t been on since previous campaigns

but also it would be so so funny if it was just aabria and christian again, playing a different set of characters

[skyllion-uwu]

"What are you burning? You can tell me as much or as little as you want :) A letter? Okay, to who? Me, your mom, your sister? Somebody from school? Do you wanna talk about it? I'm all for burning stuff but I'm curious now"

YOU JUST SAID I COULD SAY AS LITTLE AS I WANTED STOP POKING AND PRODDING AT ME!!!!!! At least my mom told him to cut it out, thank you Mom