#might delete this later just throwing thoughts into the void

[littleshysheep-at-da]

I keep having stuff I think about Drawing then just… not actually doing it… oops…. Brain just gone rip 🫠 am so eepy

[sinnabee]

Hey! would you recommend anything for someone wishing to make a dca au/blog? I have many ideas but also many anxiety

yeah - just go for it!!! post ur thoughts and headcanons into the void, see what resonates, and most importantly - have fun!

the fun thing about tumblr is that you can just kinda. fuck around and goof off and it's all good!

i personally love it when people just post little thoughts about au's they have, sometimes they elaborate, sometimes they don't, but it's still fun to see! it can inspire other people who might want to hop in and ask questions, or shyly point it in another direction asking "hey what about this? does this fit? would this be a neat path?" and it's so fun!!! sometimes it's nice to just throw an idea out there and see who it clicks with.

if you WANT notes, then just remember the first five tags on a post are the ones that are gonna show up in your search results. if your anxiety says "ooooh im not ready for that," then maybe spend the first four tags rambling, and then throw something like #fnaf or #fnaf dca in there for number 5, so that it still pops up but is a little harder to find. (i also absolutely recommend giving any au you talk about it's own unique tag for organization purposes, so that you can search for it on your blog later.)

general advice about having a fandom themed blog, tho - and thankfully, i haven't really seen this hardly at all in the dca fandom - SOMETIMES people are assholes who might come into your inbox and be shitheads about your headcanons or about ships you like. man, don't even bother with them! don't answer it, don't mull it over - delete it. you aren't obligated to answer asks, you can just toss 'em if they're mean or make you uncomfortable. and don't forget the block button, too!

that's about all i can think of off the top of my head! i used to try and keep my blog strictly to my own art/writing, but i'm having a lot of fun reblogging other people's art now and being able to yell at moots and artists in the tags. again - have fun!!!

thanks for the ask, anon, and i hope you have a blast with your fandom blog! (i hope i'll see it around sometime soon! <3)

[pokemoncreepypasta]

My Shining Star

[STORY SOURCE]

Up until some recent events, I used to be an aspiring shiny hunter. Technically I was pretty good at it, too, at least by encounter standards. But even though I was great at finding my fair share of shiny Pokémon , I’ve never been able to keep any of them.

The first one of these shiny Pokémon I found was by a random encounter. I’d gotten lost in Rock Tunnel after forgetting to bring Flash, and spent so long in there that I ran out of Repels. Just as I was giving up hope that I’d be able to escape on my first run, she appeared.

I knew about shiny Pokémon, but hadn't ever thought I'd encounter one of my own in the wild. I was unprepared, and after a moment of staring in surreal wonder, I concentrated on figuring out how to catch her with my limited supplies. Thankfully it wasn't very hard, and soon I had my first legit shiny.

I normally wasn't creative with naming my Pokémon, but I wanted her to have a special name. I asked my mom for help, and she suggested "Star." I liked it, but the name itself seemed short and boring, so I added a couple stars to the ends to give her name a little flair.

I was beyond excited to put my first shiny into my team, and plowed through the rest of the cave. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, and I had to get out to the nearest PC, because I knew a shiny baby Cubone was waiting for me to adopt her.

I quickly fell in love with the little green dinosaur, and soon she was the shining star of my team. I used her more than my starter, and neglected the rest of my party a bit in the process, but still made it through the game alright. Setbacks didn't matter when I had a shiny.

Lots of time and multiple trips through the Elite Four later, I proudly turned ★Star★ into a level 100 Marowak. She was the first Pokémon I ever raised to level 100, and I couldn't have been prouder of her.

It had been a couple years, and I was starting to feel unsatisfied with just ★Star★. I was itching for more, and felt like I probably should have found some other random encounters by now, with all the time I'd spent playing.

Feeling inspired by all the shiny hunter videos I'd been binging on YouTube, I decided to start taking up shiny hunting. I was feeling ambitious, and decided to go straight to hunting for a shiny legendary Pokémon. I was a weird player who didn't really bother going after the birds or Mewtwo in my HeartGold, since I planned on transferring up my legends from my LeafGreen. I decided to rework ★Star★'s moveset for capturing legendary Pokémon.

The moveset I settled on was Bonemerang, False Swipe, Stone Edge, and Swords Dance. I decided to keep her moveset mostly offensive because she was still a member of my team, and not just a shiny-catcher. I planned on replacing False Swipe with Aerial Ace at some point, but I never got the chance to.

I decided to pick Mewtwo as my target. Lots of people find green shiny Pokémon overbearing and unattractive, but ★Star★ made me fond of them. Plush, Mewtwo was awesome, and I thought the two of them would look great together.

I spoke to ★Star★ aloud, saying, "Are you ready to do some shiny hunting, ★Star★?"

"★Star★ let out a roar!"

I thought she was just as enthusiastic as me.

I made it to Mewtwo, saved my game, and started the tedious process of soft resetting.

I’ll spare the details of how long it took, but eventually I came across the sparkling green Mewtwo.

I led with my team's Ampharos to paralyze it, and switched to ★Star★.

I remember being very lucky with this fight at first, with Mewtwo being fully paralyzed every turn.

I used Swords Dance to fully buff ★Star★'s attack stat so False Swipe would do as much damage as possible.

But even though I swore that I had chosen to use False Swipe, ★Star★ proceeded to use Bonemerang.

Shocked, confused and distressed, I watched as ★Star★ mercilessly beat the shiny Mewtwo down, knocking it out in one hit with her increased stats.

I felt crushed and dejected as I went back to the overworld. I blamed myself, thinking I had misclicked the wrong move and killed the Mewtwo myself. In my wave of disbelief, I absentmindedly talked to ★Star★.

"★Star★ is green with envy!"

I decided to go back to square one and start over.

A dozen thousand resets later, I saw it sparkle again and I was shaking with anticipation. Part of me felt twitchy and paranoid, like I should have used my Master Ball right away.

I decided against it because I wanted to hunt the birds later, but decided that if the Mewtwo seemed like it would run low on moves, then I'd use it as a last resort.

I probably should have listened to my guts though, because the same thing happened all over again. I knew for certain this time that I had chosen False Swipe, but the game purposefully made ★Star★ use Bonemerang. I saw it completely clear.

After seeing the Mewtwo go down a second time, I just cursed and slammed my desk a bit. I glared accusingly at my Marowak.

I decided to put my shiny hunting on hold. I used an Escape Rope to leave, and decided to place ★Star★ in the PC, quarantining her in an empty box for a time-out.

As I dejectedly hunted for a third time, I thought to myself what was wrong with my game. I wondered if it was just glitchy, or if I was misinterpreting the situation. I decided to convince myself that it was a mistake on the game's part; otherwise I wouldn't have been able to handle killing the Mewtwo twice in a row.

Finally, it sparkled one last time. I decided not to screw around while reclaiming this shiny. I had hunted it twice before, and decided to just use the Master Ball on it.

I had earned this.

After the initial rush of finally obtaining the shiny, I decided not to nickname it until I thought of something good, and watched as it got sent to the PC. I excitedly saved my game, and made my way out of the cave and to the nearest Pokémon Center.

But when I got there, the Mewtwo wasn't anywhere to be seen.

I shouted curses in confusion as I scrolled through every box in a state of denial. Where did it go, what could I have possibly done? I thought of all the ways I couldn't possibly messed up, did I have an evil hacked Pokémon from the GTS that deleted it, was this actually a bootleg game and Nintendo's anti-piracy revenge was to delete my legendary?

After a few minutes of searching, I gave up. My Mewtwo was gone.

I scrolled back to ★Star★'s isolated box and looked at my only green shiny in mourning. Obviously it wasn't something wrong with just her, but the game itself. In a game as glitchy as this, I was seriously worried that I might lose her, too.

After looking at her for a bit, it seemed like she might've been looking at me? I wasn't sure if she was supposed to do that, but in a game that was acting up like this, I didn't doubt it.

I took her out of the PC and put her at the front of my party to talk to her, to see if anything else was up.

"★Star★ nodded slowly."

She only did more random friendly things after that. Quite chipper for someone whose life might be threatened, I thought.

I decided to trade her over to Platinum for safe keeping. I wasn't sure what to do about the rest of my Pokémon on HeartGold, but ★Star★ was the most important one to me right now.

As I traded her over, I noticed that her eyes were red now, instead of the green I was just looking at. I was off-put by this inconsistency, especially with the recent events surrounding her. I forced myself to brush it off, however, notice I could do about it.

Even though I had an unfortunate experience with my HeartGold, my thirst for more shinies still persisted. Maybe it was the fact I had lost my shiny three times that I really had to fill the void, now.  A couple weeks later, I found out about a method of shiny hunting called chaining, and wanted to try it out. I felt a little more at ease, since if you accidentally killed a shiny with this method, the chain wouldn't break, and you could keep going. Plus, Platinum should've been fine.

I chose Route 208, as it had a good selection of Pokémon for me to choose from. I wasn't picky, so I just started chaining whatever Pokémon I liked until I got a decent chain. I heard that the shiny odds max out at a chain of 40, so after that you can just keep resetting the radar until the grass sparkles.

I landed on Roselia, and sent out my shining star Marowak.

I started with False Swipe, since I wouldn't need to buff up ★Star★ for a LV. 19 Pokémon.

"★Star★ used Swords Dance!"

Oh no.

I panicked as memories of the last incident came flooding back, and how it had started out with her disobeying. Not giving her a chance to kill it, I frantically switched to the items menu to start throwing PokéBalls instead.

(Name omitted for personal reasons.)

I had plenty of them, so I stared throwing Ultra Balls, since they had the highest odds. At least one of these would probably work.

" blocked the Ball!"

"Don't     !"

I tried throwing one, but it failed, as if I tried using it on a trainer's Pokémon.

I had no idea what in the world was going on, what could be stopping me from catching a wild Pokémon? Was my Platinum glitched out too? Was I cursed??

I tried using different balls, but nothing would work.

Eventually, I ran out of PokéBalls to throw. I'd failed the shiny.

Frustrated, but not enough to kill the Roselia, I fled the battle.

I had no idea what to do after that, and was exasperated. I wanted to berate myself, and that I should've tried test catching a normal Pokémon in Platinum first to make sure it was going to work okay. But really, how was I supposed to know that was going to happen? And always, conveniently when I was in the middle of hunting a shiny. I thought of berated my parents instead, if they had bought all my Pokémon games for me on eBay.

Was it really my games, thought? I don't even know if you can trade Pokémon from fake games. Was it my DS could it have been hacked? Can you even bootleg a DS? I tried going to the Internet for answers, and read some Reddit and random Pokémon forum posts about glitches and bootlegs for an hour, but gave up without finding a real conclusion.

So, I'd given up hunting for some time. But, I hadn't gotten tired of Pokémon. I bought Black for myself, and played through the story just fine.

I found out you could get a Shiny Charm if you completed the Pokédex. That made me excited, until I remembered my past luck. Was it worth trying again?

Shortly after transferring up all my Pokémon, I decided, yes. It was. I went for the hatching method this time, since the Pokémon ends up right in your party afterwards- no catching, no PC transfer. It would be my final test, and if THIS didn't work, I would officially give up on ever getting nice things.

Foreign Ditto in hand, I went to work. I went for a shiny Flygon, since they were one of the best looking, and it'd be a nice addition to my competitive team.

One long hunt and a really late night later, eyelids barely able to stay open, I saw it.

I'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Skipping the nickname, I rushed to immediately save my game, wasting no time. I checked my party to see my Trapinch was still there, and chalked it up as a success. I was an official shiny hunter now.

Since ★Star★ was level 100, I figured she could battle for my baby Trapinch until she could hold her own in battle. I only wanted to take her up a few levels, so I could personally train her afterwards. Just raising her immediately into a Flygon would be too soon.

I attached an Exp. Share to her, and started running around in the tall grass. After a little bit of grinding, my Trapinch made it up to level 8 before I accidentally stepped into the thick grass and triggered a wild double battle.

Knowing the wild Pokémon were too strong for the underleveled baby Trapinch, I wanted to flee, but I first noticed ★Star★'s sprite as it asked me what to do.

The end of her bone facing the wild Pokémon was no longer symmetrical, being sharpened at the end of it. I'd seen her sprite enough times to know it wasn't supposed to look like this.

I tried to flee, but it failed.

"★Star★ used Swords Dance!"

"The wild Pidove is watching carefully!" 

"The wild Patrat is watching carefully!" 

"Trapinch is watching carefully!" 

★Star★ had started using moves on her own. Stunned, I tried to switch out.

"★Star★ can't be switched out!"

Giving up, I told ★Star★ to use Stone Edge on the Pidove, and told the Trapinch to use Bite on Patrat.

"★Star★ ignored orders!" 

"★Star★ used Bonemerang!"

I gasped as she struck my Trapinch instead.

"★Star★ is green with envy!"

As soon as I read that text, it hit me. This wasn't any ordinary friendly fire.

"Trapinch fainted!"

It finally allowed me to run, so I immediately tapped the button and rushed to my party to see the damage.

My Trapinch was gone.

I tried resetting to bring her back, but it was hopeless. My shiny new baby had been murdered.

Connecting all the dots in my head, I realized the reason I'd failed every encounter was because of ★Star★.

My grief and fear quickly turned into outrage. I couldn't believe she'd done this to me. She'd made me suffer hunt after hunt, just to take every shiny away from me.

This was the source of my games acting strange, and I knew there was only one way to correct it.

Feeling rash, I rushed over to the PC and hovered over the "Release" option for a few minutes.

"★Star★ was released."

It hurt to let her go, but I didn't want my game behaving strangely with her around.

"★Star★ came back!"

"★Star★ will never leave you."

But she refused.

Resorting to desperate measures, I did the only other thing I could think of.

I traded the stubborn Marowak over to my nearly empty White version that I never got around to playing, and deleted the save file.

"Deleting all saved data... Don’t turn off the power."

"★Star★ will n"

Sayonara, ★Star★.

After deleting the save file, I thought things would start working like they should. Sometimes, I'd replay other Pokémon games just for the fun of it, hoping I'd find other shiny Pokémon with ★Star★ gone.

Almost comically, I somehow thought it would be a good idea to go full circle and try hunting on HeartGold for a shiny starter. I had heard from other shiny hunters that it was an easy hunt, and it was, only taking a few days.

I affectionately named him "Chico."

My first step into the tall grass, and...

"★Star★ is green with envy!"

I had never been so unhappy to see a shiny.

I guess she's been out in the wild all these months. And looking at her sprite, I can only wonder what she's been up to. I wonder how she feels to see me again?

Oh, no.

“Can’t escape!”

"★Star★ used Bonemerang!"

"Chico fainted!"

Of course, Chico was no match.

The game froze after I blacked out.

I figure it was because ★Star★ killed my only Pokémon.

"The save file is corrupted. The previous save file will be loaded."

My save file, corrupted with the loss of my starter's data, brought me back right to this spot that I was all too familiar with. Through frustrated tears, I begrudgingly went to pick a normal starter so I could play the game normally.

“I dare you to love again.”

And I’ve never found a shiny since.

[kin-n-n]

I'm probably going to delete this later or maybe even never post it but...

I've always been a very private person on the internet, I don't see the point of sharing pictures of myself or particularity like to talk about real life. I think that's mainly because I am a mostly passive enjoyer of the interwebs, not counting the few and far in-between attempts at art I post, and the fact that I come here, tumblr but also online in general, to have fun, and sometimes to distracted myself from....me.

That's why I'm so baffled as to why I feel the need to share this. Maybe because I'm mostly screaming into the void (I don't have many followers that interact regularly aside from two or three friends I know in real life as well and so they'd probably only stumble across this if they have my notifications on, which I don't think they do, but in case I'm wrong hi). I just have the urge to get this somehow on paper or....well in this case screen.

This is just a lot of incomprehensible rambling, because I'm just writing what comes to mind at the moment.

Anyways, things are slowly normalising again. I just had muesli as breakfast and thought 'Right, I had wanted to tell mom to get milk on the way home for the weekend.' Since we usually do our grocery shopping on Fridays, but she'd told me last friday that there's nothing we need, but I took a peek in the fridge and saw we only had one liter of milk and wanted to text her, but then I thought it's not that important we still have a liter and if we should need more tomorrow is still Saturday and so we can get more. I just now remembered that. Such a mundane thing to be remembered of suddenly. This is literally the, life goes on no matter what happens, I never thought I'd experience it.

There was this one tumblr post about how, especially writers, kind of detach themselves from the bad things that might happen to them and go 'huh, so that's what this feels like, good to know, now I can write it into my story' or something along those lines. And that's kind of what happened with me as well.

There are some things that stand out to me among all the bad stuff that happened, little moments I noticed and filed away. Like the slight irony, or maybe cinematic parallel, that both times that something happened at home it was in the hallway by my door. The first was a friend of my sister having a panic attack and this time my sister herself having to be hospitalised.

Then the fact that I am really vulnerable and uncomfortable with hearing my sister not doing well and not just in this context of being in pain and throwing up because of it either. I remember years and years ago one time she had a fight with mom I think and at the time we were sleeping in the same room, so I heard her coming inside, just sobbing and crying really badly, and all of a sudden I felt shaky and not well. Partly because I didn't know what to do about it or how to react and calm her down. And weirdly it's only my sister that this happens with. I'm completely fine if my dad or mom cry (not that it happens often).

Another thing is...I was sat in the living room on a sofa with my sisters boyfriend, who also happened to be there that night, and we were talking to each other to not just sit there and do nothing, when my sisterlaying kn the other side of the wall in the corridor got worse again while the paramedics tried to get a read on her situation. And I got really really jittery listening to her being in pain so I asked for a hug which he happily returned, but...it wasn't comfortable, like I thought it'd be like how I imagine hugs to be?

Don't get me wrong it was helpful, like I did need that human contact to calm down, but it was a awkward hug and not really comfortable. Probably because we were sat next to each other and so it was just our twisted torsos and the arms thrown over each other’s shoulders.

There are some other stuff but I'm tired...I'm just glad the surgery went well and she's doing better now. Just furious I can't go and see her in person, because of the stupid fucking mom of the patient that was sharing a room with my sister, who thought it'd be a good idea to go visit her daughter without wearing a mask and so now they're both in quarantine. UGH. AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE INCOMPETENT PIECE OF SHIT OF A GYNAECOLOGIST WHO DIDN'T DEEM IT IMPORTANT TO GET A ULTRASONOGRAPHY(or whatever it's called in english)EVEN THOUGH MY SISTER EXPLICITLY REQUESTED IT! SHE NEVER WOULD'VE HAD TO GO THROUGH ALL THAT HORROR LAST FRIDAY IF IT HADN'T BEEN FOR THAT LITTLE BITCH. goddammit

I've been all over the place emotionally, but it's getting better now. I have to get shit done but I'm not feeling up to doing it ugh I hate this

I'll try and motivate myself to start working on my uni project tomorrow. wish me luck

[virgils-eyeshadow]

serious/venting post

hey i need to take a break from my usual shitposting agenda because i want to vent but im afraid to vent to my friends anymore and screaming into the void might help. i will very likely end up deleting this later.

tw/cw for: eating, mentions of eating disorders, throwing up, feelings of not wanting to eat, mentions of lying, mentions of therapists/psychiatrists, self-hatred, body dysmorphia & hatred, mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, depressing shit, my parents, and as always, swearing. woohoo.

disclaimer: i do not have an eating disorder. i've only been to a real therapist/psychiatrist once in my life and my parents bullied me into lying to their face so i'm never going to get officially diagnosed with anything anyway, and i don't want to self-diagnose.

i really, really hate eating because every time i do it, that mean voice in my head pops up. it starts calling me fat and ugly, talking about how much i weigh, and how i don't even deserve to eat it. i don't deserve to have food at all, really. the only reason i eat at all is because i'm forced to. yep, you read that right. my parents have decided to make sure i eat three square meals a day with them, and what a fucking nightmare that is. however, that's not the purpose of this post, so i'll move on. my parents forcing me to eat has made it so, so much worse. i hate it. i have attempted multiple times to make myself throw up: spoiler alert, it doesn't work and just leaves me feeling gross. i skip any meal i'm not required to eat and hop on the scale hoping for some sense of relief but it's never enough. i'll never be thin enough. i'm so fucking ugly and disgusting. who could ever love me? it makes me want to kill myself but i'm never brave enough to actually go through with it. i hate my body and i hate myself. i know i'm such a fucking spoiled brat for having food but not appreciating it. i know. i know i don't deserve any of it. i'm sorry.

[cringeytwilightsideblog]

the cullens throw their long-suffering father the first birthday party he’s had in 300 years (also Jasper’s inner cowboy comes out STRONG)

Hey, thought Emmett as he peered around Edward’s doorframe. Whatcha doing?

“I am organizing my CD collection.” he said. “Why, may I ask, has half of my Mozart been replaced with ABBA?”

“Because ABBA is better than Mozart. Anyway, I need to talk to you.”

“Ok…” Edward said. “Well?”

“In private.”

“I can read minds, idiot.”

“Yeah, but I can’t. Come with me.”

Edward sighed and grabbed his khaki raincoat, his khaki rain boots, and his khaki hat and headed outside with Emmett into the forest. As they were running through the trees, Alice jumped down from one directly in front of Edward, who crashed into her so hard her arm came off.

Alice stuck the arm back on and said brightly, “So! What are we doing?”

“We’re going to have a birthday party for Carlisle!” Emmett announced.

“ Nobody knows his birthday.”

“Bella googled some old census records.”

“Hi!” said Bella, walking out of the woods dragging a deer behind her. “Do you guys mind if I eat lunch?”

“Remember to say grace, dearest one.” Edward reminded her. “The good lord smiles upon those who pray.”

‘Hold on.” Alice said. “You mean all these years Carlisle just could’ve googled his birthday and instead he has to be all dramatic and mysterious about it?”

“I guess it runs in the family,” Emmett said, looking at Edward in his all-khaki getup, reading from the Bible over Bella’s dead deer.

“What?” asked Edward. “My soul is in danger. I need God to reel it back in.”

“Your soul is a fish?” Bella wondered.

“No, love of my life. My soul is a void.”

“...Nice.” Bella took her hydroflask out of her backpack and started filling it with deer blood for later.

“So!” said Alice, trying to get everyone back on track. “Where’s Jasper and Rosalie?”

“Rosalie’s working on her car and Jasper wanted to make the party cowboy themed so he’s at the store picking out hats.”

“Great!” Alice said brightly. “The other outcome I saw was Emmett making it an 80s disco- nevermind.”

“Can we make the party God themed?” Edward wondered. His siblings shook their heads. Bella slurped her deer blood with her metal straw. “You need to get a life, Wardo.”

“I am dead on the outside as well as the inside, my beloved Bella,” he said, sighing. “Therefore I cannot ‘get a life,’ unless that is your way to tell me to kill someone.”

“No. That’s not what I- Oh no! I spilled blood on my khaki skirt!”

If Edward had still had blood circulating his body and therefore had the opportunity to faint, he would’ve passed out then and there. “Bella! No! I-it’s a tragedy!”

“Shut up Edward.” Alice told him. “She still has all the khaki skirts that you gave her for her birthday. And Christmas. And Halloween. And like every holiday on the calendar.”

She paused as she saw something. Edward frowned.

“Jasper’s coming back!”

A few seconds later Jasper came crashing through the forest with several Walmart bags full of cowboy hats. He plopped one on Emmett’s head and threw the bags at Alice, who somehow managed to catch them all.

“I’ve been runnin’ all over hell’s half acre roundin’ these bad boys up!” he proclaimed.

“Gimme one of those,” Bella said, snatched a few out of the Walmart bag, and properly cowboyed up herself and her husband.

“I SAY YEE, YOU SAY HAW!” Jasper yelled so loudly that a couple blue jays flew out of the fir tree they were vibing in. “YEE!”

“HAW!” screamed Bella, Emmett, and Alice.

Why did they respond to that and not the time I tried to pump them up before church with ‘I say Jesus, you say Christ’? Edward wondered. It was truly a mystery.

“Alright cowboys and cowgirls.” Jasper said, his southern accent coming out strong. “We’re throwin’ the rowdiest, most rootin and tootin party y’all have ever seen! Alice!”

“Yes!”

“You are in charge of the decorations! Emmett, you help me construct a rodeo in the woods! This, coincidentally, happens not to be my first rodeo! Edward, you’re in charge of the music! None of that gosh diddly darned Mozart, ya hear me? I’m talkin’ country music. You might wanna run down yonder to Tennessee and-”

“I will NOT!” Edward cried. “How DARE you insult Mozart like this! I am leaving!” He yanked the cowboy hat off his head and threw it on the ground.

“Don’t let the screen door hit ya where the good lord split ya!” Jasper called after his retreating figure. “Bless his rotten, Yankee heart. Alright. Bella, you’re now in charge of the music as well as your original job, which is arguably the most important one. You need to figure out how to make sweet tea that we can drink.”

“That’s easy!” she said. “Take the blood of a diabetic mountain lion!”

“Alright! Now we’re getting somewhere! Emmett, what is it?”

Emmett had raised his hand. “So you know how Carlisle spent like a week in a potato cellar?”

“Yeah.” Alice said. “What about it?”

“What if we make a ball pit… but with potatoes!”

Jasper, Alice, and Bella cheered. Edward, who was lurking in a bush 20 feet away decided that since none of them were using the collective brain cell today he should probably rejoin them. Little did he know that Rosalie actually had the collective Cullen brain cell today, shown by the fact that she was staying out of all this.

“Hello, family.” He announced, dramatically walking out of the bushes. “After some consideration, I have decided to come back.”

“Edward, you weren’t even gone for 2 minutes.’ Alice said, sighing. “Have you changed your mind about the music, at least?”

“ I suppose I’ll help,” he said begrudgingly. “Can Bella help me, though?”

“Yes!” Bella yelled. “I’m gonna play cotton eye joe for three hours straight! Whoever sticks it out till the end gets the diabetic mountain lion sweet tea!”

The two of them plopped down with Bella’s phone to assemble a playlist that contained such classics as Country Roads, Take Me Home, Cotton Eye Joe Gregorian Chant Techno Remix, and the Tennessee state song, Rocky Top. Edward sneaked Clair De Lune in when he thought nobody was looking. Bella promptly deleted it when he wasn’t looking.

Over the next few hours, Emmett and Jasper constructed a small rodeo and then ran around the tri-state area looking for some bears to ride around.

“Look at him.” Jasper said fondly as Emmett wrestled a bear to the ground. “Grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater.”

Alice went to bi-mart for decorations, which for those of you unlucky enough not to live in the pacific northwest, is a cowboy walmart.

By 1 in the morning they had everything set up. Emmett was sitting on the bear in the middle of the rodeo and singing along to Edward and Bella’s playlist. Jasper was helping Alice hang the cowboy hat fairy lights at the last minute, seeing as she was too short to hang them herself.

“Alright, buckaroos!” Jasper cried. “It’s time to go get Carlisle!”

Bella, Edward, and Alice ran back to the house leaving Emmett and Jasper to supervise the bear and the sweet tea, respectively. They burst through Carlisle’s door to find him staring at his creepy vampire paintings.

“Carlisle!” Alice said. “Come with us! We need to show you something!”

Carlisle allowed Alice to drag him down the hall and Edward went to find Esme and Rosalie. A minute later, they were all assembled on the lawn and ready to go.

“Which way was it again?” Bella wondered, looking at the woods.

“Follow me!” said Alice, and ran through the trees until the rodeo came into sight.

“What is this?” Carlisle asked, hearing ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ blasting from Bella’s portable bluetooth speaker that they had put on the table with the sweet tea.

“Hi, Carlisle! Hi, Esme!” Emmett yelled.

“Why is he sitting on a bear?” Esme muttered to her husband.

“Honey, it’s not the weirdest thing he’s done. I’m more focused on the rodeo. And the fact that they’re all wearing cowboy hats.”

Alice plopped a cowboy hat on each of her parent’s heads. “On three! One! Two! Three!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CARLISLE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOU!” everyone sang. Edward harmonized badly.

“Is it my birthday?” Carlisle asked. “How did you figure that out?”

“Google!” Bella said proudly.

“That- that’s quite interesting.” Carlisle said, wondering why he’d never googled himself. “How old am I?”

“377!” Bella announced proudly.

“Ah. And may I ask why Emmett is sitting on a bear?”

“This is Fernando, named after the best song in the world,” Emmett said, patting the bear’s head. Edward stared at them, aghast that he hadn’t named the bear Debussy as he had suggested.

“We set up a rodeo for ya, pop!” Jasper said. “Do ya like it?”

“I made sweet tea!” Bella said, grinning.

“I love it.” Carlisle said. “Are you going to wrestle the bear?”

“You bet!” Emmett yelled. “Come at me bro!” The bear growled at him. Emmett growled back.

After Emmett had successfully wrestled the bear, Bella put on ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ and had the entire family dance until the hour-long loop was over. Since nobody had won, they all shared the diabetic mountain lion sweet tea. Emmett pulled some potatoes out of his jacket and threw one at Alice. She threw it back and soon they were fighting each other with potatoes. At this point Esme noticed that the sun was rising and ordered them to clean up, go back to the house, and get ready for school.

[eljackinton]

Final Thoughts on Superhot Mind Control Delete

(Contains spoilers for Superhot and Mind Control Delete)

To understand what Mind Control Delete is not, you have to understand what it's predecessor is.

Superhot was the most innovative first person shooter I'd played in years.

For those of you who completed the first game, you already know what the weight of those words entails.

Superhot was a first person shooter where time only moved when you moved. Though a series of carefully designed missions, the player would slowly, almost like a puzzle game, punch jaws, smack bricks over heads, and cut, shoot and explode their way through legions of red, crystalline enemies. The gameplay was charming, unique and addictive.

As the game progressed, in ambiguous snippets, we would unfurl the story of the mysterious (fictional) Superhot game, which was attracting more and more addicted thrill seekers as news began to unfold of violent gunfights and massacres in the real world that were eerily similar to the scenarios we were playing.

At the games climax, is is revealed that Superhot is a self-aware computer program seeking to leave the confines of its central processor and take over the minds of every human on the planet.

After completing our final mission to do just that, the game rewards a player with a discount voucher for the game, commanding us to send it to a friend with the description "Superhot is the most innovative first person shooter I've played in years," a hypnotic code phrase that will proliferate Superhot's dominion over mankind.

Superhot was probably one of the most post modern games ever made. It used the framework of playing slick and cool looking action scenes to tell a story that made us question our relationship with violent games and media in general and how that can be used unknowingly to contribute to nefarious ends.

The story mode was relatively short, but it included a challenge mode that allowed you to face off against endless enemies or replay story missions with more difficult settings.

So what is Mind Control Delete not?

Well it's not Superhot 2.

This is something that has been made transparent by the developers, of course, and given that it was provided free to owners of the original game, this all reinforces that it was always intended as a stand-alone expansion. An extension, as it were, to the original game's ideas.

That being said, with Mind Control Delete having arrived nearly half a decade after the release of the original Superhot, (as well as nearly half a decade of no real change in the FPS landscape) it's hard not to see it as some long awaited heir apparent.

So what is Mind Control Delete then?

Well, it is, for all intents and purposes, an expansion of the first game's challenge mode. In Mind Control Delete players have to complete a series of 'runs' where they have to go through a random selection of maps without dying. Once a run has been completed it unlocks further runs made more difficult through the introduction of new enemy types and environmental hazards, and along the way you unlock new abilities and 'hacks' that change the way you play the game.

One welcome addition to the game is the invincible 'boss' enemies that relentless pursue the player until they reach the prescribed kill count.

It's fun, it's as sharp and exiting as the original, the additions add welcome new dimensions, and it's addictive as hell. Once you get into the swing of things it becomes hard to put down.

Mind Control Delete has two problems, however.

The first is, that at the end of the day, there is always an optimum approach to each run. The game lets you start with one of three special abilities: The ability to charge forward and punch an enemy at great speed, the ability to throw and retrieve a katana, force power style, and the returning Hotswitch ability to jump into an enemy's body.

The problem is that Hotswitch is the clear choice to make. While the other two abilities are fun to play around with, the ability to swap bodies becomes critical as the difficulty increases and the boss enemies become more common. Often-times bodysurfing is the only way to escape the them.

Likewise, while the hacks are randomly generated, if you luck out and get the ability to start with a random gun early on the entire run becomes much easier and if you combine this with the kill/reload and ricochet abilities you can absolutely cheese your way through otherwise difficult runs.

On the other hand, draw a series of hacks that have more circumstantial benefits, such as the ability to kill by jumping on an enemy or having thrown objects explode (and kill you too) then runs can become much more of a frustrating slog.

Problem number two comes in the form of Mind Control Delete's story. A little more thin on the ground this time, the story picks up in the wake of Superhot's liberation, and through abstract text logs find out what has become of the minds enslaved to the game, all the while said game questions our desire to keep playing the game, initially with curiosity, later with malice.

As a mediation on our desire for more challenges, more content, Mind Control Delete does a fine enough job with the time it has. In fact theconcept of MORE is the entire game's thematic underpinning.

The problem comes from story content being locked behind increasingly difficult challenges. In the first Superhot, the story mode was, while challenging at times, generally manageable, and therefore available to be experienced in full straightforwardly.

Mind Control Delete, by contrast as a glorified challenge mode, locks story content behind more increasadly difficult runs, and feels as though it has long outstayed it's welcome long before you see the end credits.

This, of course, is all before you get to the ending itself. Upon reaching the final set of runs, the game asks you to give up your powers and hacks, then asks you to give up your game character's very methods of engaging with the game world. You lose the ability to move, to shoot, and eventually, to play.

At the end, with nothing left but the void of your computer screen, the game gives you the final choice to restore that which has been taken. To return you to the challenge mode and allow you to continue playing. Once you accept this offer, however, you have to wait for the game to 'restore' what you have given up.

This then leads to a two hour loading screen.

It was originally eight hours before the most recent patch.

Superhot: Mind Control Delete ends on what might be the most audacious clowning that a game has ever committed against the player. I have to kind of admire the stones it took to do this.

However, as funny as it is pissing players off, and as a commentary on the gamer mentality of expecting more and more and MORE, Superhot feels like a poor fit for this kind of ending.

Maybe it would have been funnier if Mind Control Delete had been released sooner on the back of Superhot's success. Maybe it would have been funnier if Superhot had become a long running franchise with a fervent fanbase over the last five years. However, as it stands, going with a joke ending like this at the end of your challenge mode expansion four and a half years after the fact feels, just okay, I guess?

Mind Control Delete is, essentially, more Superhot. It's additions and new twists on the formula are more than welcome, but it's bold strides in storytelling feel a poor fit for what they're weaved around, and I can't help but feel the game would have been better off without any story content at all.

Will we see a Superhot 2? Who knows, but don't be expecting that of Mind Control Delete. It's fun for what it is, but it'll test your patience long before you get to the end, and when you do get there, it'll laugh at your expense.

[near-seth-experience]

This is a long, personal, 3 in the morning kind of ramble. Writing as if I'm explaining things to others tends to help me get my feelings out. Don't feel obligated to read this, but you're welcome to. I'm mostly just thinking out loud here. I'm on mobile, so sorry if this gets long. I don't know if Keep Reading cuts are possible on the app, and if they are I havent learned how to insert them. I'll probably delete this later so whatevs.

I think this topic could apply to a lot of selfless people out there, so I think putting some things into words might be helpful to others.

Anyways, I've thought about this before, and I'm not sure if I've ever talked about it, but I'm pretty sure I've pinpointed a pretty massive reason why I feel lonely and incredibly dissatisfied all the time:

I've always felt that I was considerate to a fault. I'd never put my needs ahead of the needs of others. To this day, I still have lots of difficulty when it comes to looking after numero uno. I learned early on that I needed to keep others appeased in order to feel safe. My siblings frequently butted heads growing up, and one of them often had these big fights with my dad. Lots of tears, yelling, a rare hole in the wall, that kinda thing. It fell on me to keep tempers from flaring. Ultimately, I became the kid my dad always called when he needed help with yardwork. I became the kid who would hand my mom a soda after a heated phone call with a high-maintenance sibling, and I'd sit and let her vent to me. I became the kid who would unload the dishwasher or take out the trash without being asked to do so. Whenever things got heated, I would shift into the role of family de-escalator. Point is, I've always lived for others, and no, this isnt one of those posts talking about living for yourself, yadda yadda yadda. I'm thinking in a different direction, but it'll wrap back around.

Recently I've been trying to think of this in a positive light. As shitty as things might have been, I've grown up to be incredibly considerate. It's one of my better qualities, the beginning and end of my list of good things I can confidently say about myself as a person. It was always out of necessity or fear. It was always pretty damn unappreciated. It always kind of felt like I was everyone's bitch. But it was good of me all the same.

Now that I'm my own person, I've realized two things. Firstly, I love helping out. I love knowing that someone is better off for having me by their side. It's kind of why I loved proofreading in my college English courses. I loved being thanked and feeling valued and wanted for my efforts. I loved the gratification of knowing that someone's story or essay received better marks thanks in very small part to my help. I love knowing I made a mark in someone's life for the better in some way. My personal golden rule is essentially to ask yourself at every turn if there's some little thing you can do to ease another person's burden. If the answer is yes, and the means are within reason and your comfort zone, do it.

The second thing I realized was something that is said a lot: relationships flow both ways. Nobody in my life— not my 2 or 3 superficial friends, not my family, literally nobody— has deserved the amount of effort I have spent for their sakes. I'm burnt out. I'm dissatisfied with my life because everything I do for the sake of another person feels like a chore. I am constantly taken for granted, and the only reason I still bother is because it's even tougher to go against my nature and do nothing. It's not like I'm asking for recognition, but just once I'd like to hear sincerity when someone thanks me. Even better, I'd like someone to legitimately care enough to look into my eyes for a change, see how not-okay I am, and ask themselves if theres anything they could do.

I can only think of one time that has ever happened, and the circumstances are still a trigger of mine so I'm gonna keep the story brief.

(TW Death & Animal Death. Skip this next paragraph if you need to)

My senior year of high school, a freshman was found dead in the school swimming pool. No foul play suspected, people just didn't see him go under during or between gym class. Real tragic. So the school goes on lockdown while they look into things, and then they cancel the rest of the day. I go home, and I find my dog dead. She was old and losing vision, and she fell into our backyard swimming pool. It was partially drained for the winter, so she didnt drown, we think falling down four or five feet onto the concrete of the shallow end while blind may have just been a massive shock. Heart attack, or she hit her head or something. Who knows. Anyways, my mind connected the two events. Two pool-related deaths on the same day. For the first class on the following day, my teacher arranged the desks in a big circle and it was honestly a really good hour-long discussion about loss and grief, but it hit me so hard that people thought I knew the freshman student. The teacher, and a friend of mine both came up to me after class, I told them what happened, got a hug from the friend, and sent home for the day by the teacher.

(/End TW)

That was the only time in memory where someone has ever looked at me and knew I wasn't alright, and I imagine it must have been very obviously written on my face. Now, back to the point. The amount of times I've seen the troubled faces and heard the troubled voices of those I care about and did any little thing to help is severely disproportionate to the amount of reciprocation. It's like I actively look to see if people need me, but they never even care enough to consider looking if I need them.

So, here are my takeaways:

I'm dissatisfied with life because I'm tired of bending over backwards for people who don't even deserve to have me, and that's basically all I'm doing with my life.

I'm lonely because that covers literally everyone I know personally.

So fuck 'em.

I feel like I have some kind of void inside me, and don't think I'll ever have true fulfillment in this regard unless life throws me a cheesy series of events that results in me finding my soulmate or at least something mutual. (Lmao, yeah right. Press X to doubt).

People often say "live for yourself" or "you dont need others to be whole" in regards to this kind of thing. While that's generally sound advice, people do have different natures. Living for others is how I live. There's no way around that, it's who I am, so my interpretation of "living for myself" is choosing for myself who to live for.

[paulinesherrera]

How to Move on After a Breakup

One of the most traumatic experiences we could ever encounter in our lives is to terminate a relationship with the person we faithfully love. This is a phase in our lives where we question our worth by asking what we did wrong or what lacks in us that made them leave. We go through endless nights of crying and having predicaments to study, eat, talk or just simply do anything. Our heart has been shattered into pieces to the extent that we do not know where to pick ourselves anymore.

We have to understand that all good things come to an end. Who would want to end up things that made you feel alive? It is really hard, and we have different ways to cope up with our emotions after a distressing breakup, but let me tell you 10 concrete tips in moving on that worked for me which may be beneficial for you as well:

1. Closure

For the last time, say everything that you’re thankful and sorry for. Ask the right questions so that you’ll alleviate the chances of overthinking because the answers came directly from the person involved. After that conversation, however painful, leave it all there and move on to the next step. Remember, leave it all there –no more chasing.

2. Feel that you’re in pain

Listen to sad songs, watch movies that will make you cry, visit sentimental places, get drunk, cry every night, but never be too hard on yourself. Cry, but do not attempt to harm yourself. Just feel that you’re in pain because you can not escape the fact that you’re hurting. It’s okay if it scares you at this point and you feel a little hopeless because our utmost strength lies in our power to recognize our pain. Honey, you don’t have to pretend.

3. Limit yourself on things related to your ex

This is by far the most challenging tip because you have to impose a self mandate not to stalk, not to text, not to call, not to anything. It is really hard, and it may seem impossible, but you have to help yourself because I swear that it will become beneficial in the future. Once you got the hang not to do anything related to your ex, it will be easier for you to move on.

4. Keep everything out of sight that reminds you of your ex

Do not throw the letters, pictures, gifts, or anything that reminds you of your ex. Instead, put them in one place or a box, and keep it out of sight. It’s hard to delete pictures from your phone, so instead, store them in a flash drive or an online storage platform (google drive/ one drive/ private Instagram/ Facebook account), and delete them from your camera roll. You did not forget them, you simply just kept them.

5. Have a trusted person to vent out

Do not keep all your thoughts by yourself. Every time you miss your ex, thinking or crying over him/ her, have someone to lean on instead of chasing your ex again. Talk to your best friend, your closest sibling, or your parents to make your heart feel lighter. Tell them honestly how you feel, until you notice how you’ve changed from your first day of moving on.

6. Turn your anger into acceptance

Since your ex have caused you pain, it is but normal to feel mad at first, but train your heart and mind to turn your anger into acceptance that he/she has done that, and that it caused you pain. It might take a while to acquire this tip, but it will surely contribute to your peace of mind. In this way, judgments won’t bother you anymore because you will be at peace even though other people do not know your side of the story.

7. Make yourself busy doing what you love

Engage yourself into something that will keep your schedule occupied so that you’ll never have the time to overthink about your ex. Go out with your friends, do your school requirements, bond with your family. No matter what you do, make sure that even though you’re not happy yet, at least you’re being amused.

8. Try something you never did before

Every goodbye is a new opportunity to say hello to someone or something new. Since moving on is a step closer to your new chapter in life, try doing something that will make you a new and better person. If you haven’t tried cooking, try now. If you haven’t done dancing, try now. Meet new people and realize that you’re still existing. Something new that will not remind you of your ex. Something that you have developed on your own. This will give you the sense that you do not need him/her for you to be happy because you can do it by yourself.

9. Grow up and glow up

Take this break up as an opportunity to make yourself better —to be independent. While physical growth is important, so is emotional growth. Take care of yourself because no one will ever do it better but you. Do not glow up for the sake of revenge, but glow up for the sake of your own betterment. While you’re growing on the inside because of your learned experiences, glow from the outside because you have conquered your emotional battle.

10. Pray

Talk to God. Make Him your best friend. Tell Him everything. Ask for strength and guidance for each new day that you open your eyes. Trust me, this has been the most helpful tip. It works like a miracle that despite your traumatic breakup, you can still function as a human being, and it feels so fulfilling. Still pray for your ex and his endeavors. Maybe this break up is one way for God to tell you that he/ she is not the right person that He has planned for you. Trust the process, and trust His plan.

All of the aforementioned tips are ways for you to slowly heal. Take a single step each day, until you reach your goal to be okay. Healing is the only way to fill out the void in your heart so as not to pass it to someone else. You have to heal first in order to love fully again.

Upon reading these tips, I hope that I shed a light for you to keep going. This isn’t the end of your life. There is a world out there that awaits for you, but it’s in your hand to handle circumstances this time. Your feelings are valid, and it will take time for you to be alright. It’s important to learn how pick yourself up when you fall.

Trust me when I say that everything will get better because sooner or later, you’re going to let go of that feeling to unlock the next level of your life.

You may not have that love of your life anymore, but you still have YOU.

I’m here! Love, Pau. ♥️

Disclaimer: Attached photo not mine.

[buckysforeverprincess]

What Do You Want From Me? Ch 16

Lance Tucker x Reader

Words: 1998

Warnings: Language

A/N: Lance gets with the program, but is it too late? Enjoy!

Lance watched as her car drove away down the driveway and make its way onto the main road. For some reason he was cemented to that spot; feet deciding not to move.

“Well, that shit show is finally over…shall we get back to us?”

 He heard the voice behind him say with a little too much confidence than necessary. She reached out and places her hand on his shoulder in a seductive touch, and he was immediately thrown back into the reality of what just transpired at his home.  

Lance turned around and met his PA’s eyes with an almost threatening look. “Remove your hand from me now!” Lance demands through clenched teeth.

The woman looks at him shocked at his response to her touch, but does as requested, “Lance? Did I do something wrong?”

Lance walks into the house, bypassing the woman, leaving her standing at the door. She begins to follow him, but the former playboy is not stupid and is having none of it.

“Don't take another step!” He yells at her, walking around the house collecting her things she has scattered around like she owns the place.

“I-I don't understand? Wh-what did I do?” The woman has panic written all over her face and Lance has no fucks left to give.

“I can't believe I listened to you!” Lance grabs her keys and looks for the ones to his house. “How could I have let you inside my head? Fuck!” He's fumbling as he locates the keys and removes them from her key ring.

“Listen to me?! Lance, you can't possibly think any of this is ok?! You're just going to stand here, excusing what she did?!”

The man stops and looks at her like she's just grown two heads. She's obviously still trying to portray him as the victim to gain favor. God, he can't believe how close he was to fucking her!

“Yeah… I am!”  

“B-but, she's nothing but a lying little whore!”

Lance stops dead in his tracks about a foot away from her and deadpans, “says the woman that just had my dick in her mouth! How'd that taste?!”

Her mouth drops wide open and she's shocked at his words.

“Oh, I see you've perfected how to open your mouth. Careful…wouldn't want everyone to get the impression you're a thirsty little slut that loves cock. What was it you said ‘oh Lance, I love to suck cock! I'll make you forget all about her!’ News flash…even Hope Gregory sucks dick better than you!”  

Lance places her things in her arms and ushers her out the door.

“You're fired!”

He's about to shut the door in her horrified looking face but has to make sure she knows who she's fucking with, “Oh, if you get any ideas about lawyering up...I had cameras installed before you even started working here. Every moment, every sound, every fuck you, has been recorded and downloaded. Think anyone will believe I forced myself on you? And I burned my sheets, by the way! I can't believe you fingered yourself on my bed! Didn't know I could make a girl cum without even being in the house! Should probably get you vag checked, they smelled like the fish ladder. Nobody like a dirty snatch!” And with that he slams the door, leaving his former PA standing on his doorstep stunned and devastated.

What the fuck has he done? He can't even begin to grasp how fucked he really is. Not only did he let that woman prey on his emotional state, which ended up in a lousy blow job and he didn't even come, she also somehow got into his head that he needed to go after Y/N for lying to him.

Now, he can admit part of him was upset for that. She should have told him right away, so they could deal with the pregnancy and how to go forward as parents and maybe even a couple. Jase wouldn't have been an issue, and Claire…Claire! How could he forget about her!  

“Fuck!” He yells out into his house. He just fed into Claire’s plan! Jase was right; he and Claire deserve each other. He’s always acting without thinking, and damn anyone that gets hurt in the process. “Shit!”

Speaking of hurt, Y/N was hurt! His mind was now moving on and racing at a hundred miles an hour.

The woman he loved stood on his doorstep, hurt by his words and she yelled at him. In doing so, something was happening with the babies, his babies, and now he felt like the biggest jackass in the world. Lance Tucker, former God of Gymnastics, shall now be known as the King of the Asshats! He may have to have that engraved on his tombstone.  

Grabbing his phone, he had to find her...make sure they were ok. He called her cellphone first, but it went straight to voicemail. That was expected. Y/N probably deleted his number or plans to anyway. She'll never want to speak to him again.

Maybe he could call the hospitals. Jase said he was going to take her there, but which one? Calling would do no good; privacy laws. What if he went to each one? He could do that, beg them, tell him he was a distraught father looking for his pregnant fiancé, they might take pity on him. It's worth a shot.

Two hours later he was standing in the waiting room of the labor and delivery unit. It was late and the young girl at the desk took pity on him and let him know what floor Y/N was on. Even though he knew he wasn't welcome, he had to come. He owed it to her and his babies. If anything, he just needed to know they were alright.  

A nurse came out and greeted him after he had explained he was the father and he just needed to know they were ok.

“I can't give you any information, but...if you promise not to upset her, I'll give you five minutes. I just came from there and she’s awake. She sent her fiancé home to sleep.” 

Lance nodded in understanding, “her boyfriend’s an attorney. Probably has a big case he's working on; and I promise...I won't upset her.”

The nurse gives him a reluctant smile and leads him through the halls to Y/N’s room. Lance passes the nurses station but doesn't look at any of the ladies staring at him. He feels as though he's doing the walk of shame, all eyes on him, and he can't look at them. He's had enough looks of disappointment and disgust this evening to last his entire life…he can't handle any more.  

“Ms. Y/L/N. You have a visitor?”

Lance walks in with the nurse and sees your eyes are almost closed. “I thought I told you to go ho-oh hell no!”

“I told him five minutes, but I can make him leave?” It was more of a question than a statement.

Lance swallow and looks at Y/N, face full of regret. “I promise, five minutes.”

Y/N nods to the nurse but is still seething with anger.

“Good luck?” She says as she walks out, shutting the door behind her.

Lance moves himself closer to the bed, never taking his eyes off the woman he still loves and sits in the chair next to her bed. “I'm sorry.”

Her eyes never soften at his words. “Wow! It only took you a minute. So glad you got that out because I was not prepared to sit here and listen to your bull shit for five agonizingly long minutes. Thanks for stopping…buh bye!” Nope, she's still angry.

Lance let's out a sigh and puts his face in hands. “Ugh, I fucked up!”

It comes out muffled, but he knows she heard it. He peeks out at her through his fingers, trying to hide his eyes like a child caught stealing a cookie before dinner. Y/N doesn't respond sitting there stone faced. The monitors she's hooked up to don't change, beeping staying the same. He knows he's lost her, there's no coming back from it this time.

“Seems to be a common conversation we have. I'm sorry. I fucked up. Your emotions seem to be a driving force for you. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were emotionally unstable.”

How she manages to stay calm is beyond him. He's been on the receiving end of one of her verbal lashings, trying to put him in place. This is very uncharacteristic for her.

“Clearly, you're a horrible judge of character, and you’re quite the man whore. Guess it was only a matter of time before you fell back into old behaviors.”

Lance’s mouth opens to counter but she's too quick, and she raises her hand at him. “I've been around you too long to know when a woman's gotten her way with you.”  

Y/N shakes her head and takes in a deep breath, “I thought you changed, but I was so wrong, and you know what? That's ok! I feel that with all your horrible life choices you continue to make, your way of life is just not conducive to a stable environment for the children. So tomorrow I'll be calling my lawyer and I'll counter your suit. The twins shouldn't be subjugated to the whorish ways of their biological father.” Her face void of all emotions. Lance nearly breaks at the sight. 

This was all his doing. How could he be such a fucking idiot? She was his world...his life! Lance wanted those twins to be his, wanted her to be his so they could be a family. He was nearly there until he went back to his house and let the she devil talk him out of everything he wanted. She made him believe Y/N was just toying with him, playing with his emotions. Why he was he so quick to believe it, he'll never know, but it cost him the most important things in his life. At this point he can only pray Y/N would have a change of heart and help him become the man that he lost only a few hours ago.

“Your time’s up. You need to go, and I need sleep.” Her face was still solemn, and her tone was dry.

Lance gets up from the chair and makes his way to the door.

“Lance…,” she says flatly, “I'll be marrying Jase in a couple of days. Whatever Claire's reasoning, she's almost completed her goal. You single handedly threw me in his arms. Hope she was worth it.”

Y/N turns her head away from the door and tries to get comfortable. There's nothing he can do but watch. Lance Tucker has just officially lost the love of his life.

Opening the door, he walks out of her room hearing nothing but the monitors beep behind him as he closes the door. He moves over to the wall, throwing his back up against it and begins to bang his head.

Lance had a single moment of weakness, and it cost him the woman he loves and the children he’s grown to love. She'll never let him come near her and knows for certain, Y/N won't let him be anywhere near where she delivers the twins. ‘Lance Tucker is incapable of love and I hope you die alone!’ her words filled his head. He’d lost and there wasn't anything he could do now, right. Or was there?

Leaving the hospital, he pulled out his phone and called the one person he despised the most.

Claire answers on the second ring like she was expecting his call. “Hello Lance…bout time you called.” She sounds so self-assured.

He has no interest in small talk. He only needs to say the words and be done.

“You want me, bitch?! Come get me!” he didn't even wait for a response. He hung up the phone and walked to his car. Game on bitch.

[searchforthescars]

Litany - Ch. 12/12

IT’S FINALLY HERE BABEY

okay pls stick around until the end bc I talk about Things and get sappy about this fic but @bombshellsandbluebells thank you thank you for editing this and loving this and not judging me for flinging chapters that only make a little sense into the void (this is what I get for not doing an outline lmao). I’m v blessed to have you in my life

@maelidpoetree , @sarcasticdebate , you guys have written such LOVELY reviews that I still re-read and get emotional about to this day. Thank you for that, and also for convincing me to not delete Litany those two times. Much much much love

And to everyone else who has loved, read, MADE PLAYLISTS AND EDITS FOR (omg) and supported this fic, thank you. I’m always astounded at the responses to things I write. It’s humbling. <3

(the fic is also on ao3)

I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together. We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . . When I say this, it should mean laughter, not poison. I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes. Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.

Emori’s glass ornament catches the light from her window and casts beams of cool sunshine in fractures on the hallway wall. Murphy follows those beams to her doorway late on Christmas morning.

He watches as her smaller fingers caress the small delicate etchings there and smiles when he sees the fingers on her larger hand peeking out from the sleeve of her red and green sweater. She doesn’t cover it that often now, and he’s glad; his deep affection for the appendage has never wavered, and he likes seeing it out in the open every now and again, a sign of the comfort she’s found here.

Murphy watches her for another moment before knocking on her open door. She turns. Her hair is messy. She’s wearing the most hideous Christmas sweater he’s ever seen - bright red and green with tiny ornaments hooked into the neckline. He doesn’t have to touch her skin to know it’s warm, from both sleep and sun, and maybe some excitement too, if her flushed cheeks are telling the truth.

“Merry Christmas,” she says softly, a hesitant smile wrinkling the corner of her mouth. “Like my sweater?”

Murphy can’t help but laugh. “It’s...something.”

“Jasper gave it to me,” she says by way of explanation. “He, Monty and Octavia have matching ones.”

“Of course they do,” he grumbles, imagining the look on Raven’s face when she sees, and how Bellamy’s probably going to bust a nut. He must smirk at the thought, because Emori snorts and gives him a tiny smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. Her hair swishes around her face, and a few strands of it catch on the ornaments on her neckline. “Damn, that’s going to get annoying.”

“Here, let me,” he says, reaching for her hair at the same time she does. Her hands fall back into place as she lets him smooth the hair back.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. Her eyes flick down to his mouth, then back up again. He thinks about saying thought that was my move, but bites his tongue, knowing he might get sucker-punched for it. He’s still not sure where they stand with one another, not after what he did and said, or after their small reconciliation the day after Thanksgiving.

She grins up at him, and suddenly it doesn’t matter. “Hey,” she says conspiratorially, “want to pull a prank?”

Of course he does.

They sneak downstairs and quietly divest the space under the tree of every gift underneath. They hide each wrapped package somewhere in the house; the more obscure, the better. Murphy is immensely proud of himself for thinking to hide his gift to Bellamy on the roof, right behind the chimney, and Raven’s in the oven.

“I hid Monty’s inside the couch,” Emori whispers to him as they scamper back up the stairs. Her eyes are shining with mischief. Murphy wonders if she ever pranked Otan. He also wonders if she’s ever had a Christmas the “traditional” way, but can’t think of a way to ask that wouldn’t be rude. Hey, at least he cares. It’s a start.

They stay in his room until the house wakes up. She walks around and reads the papers on his walls; he sits in his desk chair and watches her move carefully around the small space. Strands of her hair stick to the fuzz of her sweater. She looks warm; she radiates happiness. It’s a good look on her.

He shakes himself out of his snappiness just in time for Octavia’s door to bang open. “Merry Christmas, bitches!” she shouts, yelping as Lexa groans and probably throws something at her head. “Let’s get this bread!”

“Let’s get this- what?” Emori asks, adorably confused.

Murphy laughs and stands up. “Don’t ask. Come on, let’s go see the fruits of our labor.”

They make it downstairs just in time to hear the crunching of Bellamy’s tires on the snow outside and the roar of Zeke’s motorcycle. Murphy holds up one hand, counting down from five on his fingers. When he gets to one, Emori grins as Bellamy hollers, “What the hell?!”

“Nailed it,” Emori singsongs. Murphy snorts.

The door bangs open and Bellamy sticks his head in. “You put my present on the damn roof?!” he shouts.

Murphy grins impishly. “What makes you think it was me?”

Raven opens the oven door, then throws her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously, Murphy? Again?”

“It was my idea,” Emori says, her eyes laughing but her face straight. Raven rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile there that tells Murphy she’s just glad the two of them are working together on something.

Murphy snorts as Monty jumps up to retrieve a package hidden atop the microwave. Emori blinks at him. “Wait… Raven said ‘again’...”

“Oh yeah.” Murphy tilts his head and smiles. “I may or may not have done this last year.”

Emori smirks. “And here I thought I was original.”

Bellamy stomps into the kitchen, tracking snow on the tile. Raven squawks and swats him with a kitchen towel, but he ignores her. “Whatever this is,” he says, holding a damp package aloft, “I don’t want it.”

“You say that now,” Emori singsongs, then leans over to whisper in Murphy’s ear, “It’s a book. He’s going to love it. And I wrapped it in plastic, anyway.”

Bellamy peels off said plastic and drops it in the sink. As Jasper, Monty, Octavia and Lexa clatter down the stairs, he rips off the soggy paper and gives Emori a soft smile. “Thank you,” he says, holding the book up so she can see the cover, even though she’s the one who gave it to him. “I love it.”

Murphy’s heart warms when Emori grins. “I knew it!” she cheers to herself quietly, pumping her fist, a gesture no doubt learned from Monty.

The rest of the house starts ripping into presents too; Raven throws the crow-printed socks Murphy gave her at his head, Lexa races to the kitchen to pour orange juice into her “Classy, Sassy and a Little Smart-Assy” mug from Octavia, and Emori wraps herself up in the massive knitted scarf Murphy found at a street market in the city.

“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten, John,” she says, her smile as warm as the wool wrapped around her neck. “Thank you.”

Murphy’s heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest. “You’re welcome.”

When she leans forward to peck him on the cheek, he flinches forward and to the side ever-so-slightly and their lips touch for a brief moment. Monty wolf-whistles and Jasper cheers while Emori covers her mouth with her smaller hand and blinks shyly at him.

“I’m sorry-“ he stammers, but Emori leans forward again, throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing him soundly on the mouth. “Oh.”

“Get it, J!” Raven yells while Lexa groans something about straight people being unable to control themselves.

“Merry Christmas, John,” Emori whispers. She gets to her feet, scarf still wrapped around her shoulders, and pads to the kitchen in search of coffee, leaving a stunned Murphy and his delighted friends behind.

Breakfast and lunch are haphazard affairs since everyone agreed they’d rather save room for the massive dinner Bellamy, Murphy and Zeke are preparing. Zeke shows up around noon, bearing bags full of groceries and presents. Luna follows him a moment later, Costia in tow. Lexa looks delighted, if not a little terrified, to see her surrogate older sister commiserating with her girlfriend.

“Relax,” Murphy tells her. “This could end really well for you.”

“Or really poorly,” Lexa mutters, eyeing Luna. “Luna’s a straight shooter. She could scare Cos away if she doesn’t approve.”

“My kind of woman,” Murphy remarks, yelping when Raven smacks him upside the head. “Ow?!”

“Your kind of woman is over there, and she’s the jealous type,” Raven says, pointing a thumb at Emori, who’s standing on the kitchen counter, digging around in the cabinet.

“Not jealous,” Emori calls over her shoulder, “Just possessive.”

Lexa wiggles her eyebrows. Raven rolls her eyes, and Luna laughs into her coffee cup.

Bellamy starts to get agitated around three when the roast for dinner isn’t cooking right. Murphy tries to help - it is his crockpot, after all - but quickly gets derailed when he realizes the kitchen is not big enough for all three cooks.

“Sorry, man,” he says to Zeke, whose efforts to shimmy behind Murphy failed after Murphy stepped back, almost whacking Raven’s almost-boyfriend in the head in the process.

“Oh no, no, you’re fine,” Zeke says, quick-stepping over Bellamy’s leg and putting a pan on the counter.

“What did you just say?” Raven calls from the living room, where she’s trying to install the new coding software Bellamy got her for Christmas.

“I said he was fine,” Zeke says.

“How Midwestern of you,” Costia remarks drily.

Zeke raises an eyebrow at her. “How did you know?”

“It’s easy to tell,” she says. “You say words funny.”

Raven hoots. Zeke groans and disappears into Raven’s room, where they’re storing all their coats. After a moment, Raven goes to join him.

“Have fun, Reyes,” Murphy calls after her.

“Fuck straight off, Murphy,” she replies. Emori whistles. When her eyes meet Murphy’s, she stands up.

“John, I forgot to give you your card,” she says. Murphy carefully picks his way across the crowded kitchen and dining room to reach her. She hands him a small envelope, then disappears upstairs before he can even break the seal.

The card’s printed sentiment is lame, but her written words aren’t. To his surprise and embarrassment, Murphy can’t help but blink back some tears as he reads. If anyone notices, they know better than to comment.

John,

Christmas is supposed to be a time for family, but my family isn’t here this year. I thought I would be heartbroken, but I’m not. You are my family, and so is Raven and everyone else. I’m not good at this sappy shit - clearly, since I wrote a swear word in a Christmas card - but I’m going to try.

When I answered Raven’s ad, I had no idea the love and safety you all would bring into my life. Thank you for your part in that. Thank you for loving me how you are able to, and thank you for trying to love me better by loving yourself. I see you, and I love you.

Merry Christmas, John. Never forget how loved you are, by me and everyone else.

-Em

During dinner, they sit at the dining room table and on the floor in the living room, spreading their Christmas Eve feast over end tables and folding chairs that no one wants to sit on for some reason. Murphy sits at the table elbow-to-elbow with Raven and Emori; Zeke and Bellamy sit across from them. Monty, Jasper, Lexa, Octavia and Costia sprawl on the floor, while Luna and Echo take over the couch. Raven tries to play music two separate times - “It’s for the Ambiance,” Octavia says, and Murphy just knows the capital A is implied -  but the noise coming from all corners of the house renders that effort more chaotic than mood-setting.

Murphy keeps sneaking glances at Emori. Her eyes shine with excitement and delight as she takes a massive serving of Zeke’s now-famous corn casserole. She grins when Raven starts roasting Bellamy for only getting books for Christmas. She even smiles at Murphy once or twice, which sends his heart rate through the ceiling.

Echo finishes first and starts in on the dishes. Bellamy follows, brushing her shoulder with his hand as he leans past her to start drying plates. Murphy watches them over his shoulder, the confidence in their movements, the ease with which they exist in one another’s space. When he turns back to face the table, he locks eyes with Emori and sees his longing and jealousy mirrored there.

Time slows down in the moments between clearing his plate and ending up in Emori’s room. Somehow he ends up at her bedroom door looking at her back, braced against the window frame, her legs swinging over the window’s edge, hair blowing in the cold West Virginia wind. It’s a mirror of this morning’s moment, or maybe an inversion, since her back is to him in this instance, though her face is turned upward.

“I never had a Christmas like this,” he hears her say to the wind. He steps inside her room but doesn’t shut the door. “With people and presents and noise and happiness.”

“Was it- Did you like it?” He winces at his own verbal ineptitude.

She nods, sniffs and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes glitter in the pale light from the hall. “Come sit with me,” she says softly, beckoning with her smaller hand.

When he’s comfortably seated with his head leaning against the window frame, his body snug between it and Emori’s legs, she rests her forehead on his shoulder and speaks to his upper arm. “I miss you.”

The distance between him is his own doing. The ache in his chest is, too. “I’m sorry.”

How do I cross the line between us? he wants to ask, but doesn’t want to come off either dramatic or desperate, even though he is both, just by nature.

“Thank you for your card,” he says softly. He turns, rests his chin atop her head, and resists the urge to press a kiss atop it. “It meant a lot.”

“I meant it.” Her voice is muffled. She doesn’t look up at him, but he can feel the wrinkle of her forehead through his sweater.

“You okay?”

She lifts her head. There’s a look in her eyes, equal parts caged animal and hesitant human. “If I let you in, you can’t hurt me. I won’t let you.”

Murphy takes a deep breath. Here, on his side of the drawn line, there is everything he is ashamed of. On her side, there is the smile in her voice when she speaks to him and the soft way she says his given name.

“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you,” he says slowly. “But I won’t try to.”

Emori smiles, sudden and blinding. She turns to face him, shifting so she’s straddling the windowsill. The ornaments on her God-awful sweater glint and tap together as she moves.

“Okay.” She kisses him on the cheek, then the nose. He grins. “Let’s start over.”

Murphy leans forward and presses his lips to hers, a proper kiss this time. When she laughs against his mouth, his chest expands. Then he’s the one who laughs as he remembers a line from a particular Christmas movie.

“What?” she asks, pulling away. And then Raven’s voice sounds from the doorway, where she’s leaning against the frame, looking as self-satisfied as he’s ever seen her.

“‘And the Grinch’s small heart’,” she quotes dramatically, a shit-eating grin wide on her face, “‘grew three sizes that day’.”

Emori howls with laughter. The foot dangling from the window kicks in the air. Murphy reaches for the nearest pillow near the foot of Emori’s bed and chucks it at Raven, who shrieks and limps downstairs. Murphy catches up to her by sliding down the bannister and tosses the couch’s blanket over her head, then proceeds to tickle her in the stomach until she goes to her knees, laughing and wheezing and pushing a worried Zeke away.

Murphy looks up after pulling the blanket off Raven’s head and locks eyes with Emori, who hovers at the top of the stairs, one hand on the bannister, one hand on the first step down. It’s a mirror of a moment during her first day at home: her hesitant eyes, Murphy and Raven on the couch, his nonchalant “you can come down.”

An invitation, he thinks. A request, maybe, and certainly an assurance that no matter where he is, she belongs. That no matter where she is, he is wanted.

“You can come down,” he says to her quietly. She takes a step down. Behind him, Zeke helps Raven to her feet.

“You can come down,” Murphy says to her again, remembering waiting at the bottom of the stairs on their first date, awestruck at her beautiful dress and the warmth in her cheeks.

Emori’s feet hit the floor beside him. She slings her arm around his shoulder and he reaches up to play with the long fingers of her left hand. While watching Monty, Raven and Zeke make a nest on the couch to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, Murphy presses a kiss to every part of her hand he can reach.

“Dear Forgiveness,” he hears her murmur, almost to herself, in that casual, thoughtful way, “I saved a place for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.”

She kisses him on the cheek, disentangles herself from him, and goes to sit beside Raven, squealing when the other girl’s cold feet make contact with her bare ankles. Murphy watches them all, lit by the kitchen light and the glow of the TV, and wonders if it’s possible for a heart to break from happiness.

If it is, he supposes, as he leans his forearms against the couch inches from Raven’s head, he’ll gladly handle this kind of heartbreak now until forever.

Yeet yeet babey we did it

The end of this story is bittersweet for me in a strange way. I started writing Litany during a time in my life where I was not doing well, mentally, physically or emotionally. This story became a strange form of catharsis, a way for me to access the dark things in me and process them through the eyes of a character who resembles me in ways I'd rather not think about.

As Murphy and Emori learned and grew and recovered, I tried to do the same. Clearly, I'm not there yet (as evidenced by the two times I almost deleted this fic on a self-destructive whim). But there's always hope as long as you learn how to forgive yourself.

If you're dealing with stuff like this, please talk to someone. A parent, a teacher, a friend, a therapist, someone. My asks on Tumblr are always open (my Tumblr name is the same as here). We all need a Raven, an Emori, a Bellamy and a Luna sometimes.

Thanks for reading this. I hope you liked it. I'll see you soon, never fear :)

Much love, Amanda

[lynneshobbydomain]

Love’s Sacrifice Chapter One: The Summoning VxFemale OC

Author’s Note: You seen me around as a secondary blog, I was trying to do things and my blog accidently got deleted. I’m working on bringing things back don’t worry. For now enjoy. Inspired by @spirit-of-the-void Her story will be linked at the bottom as well as my AO3.

The Summoning

It’s hard to see her like this. This is the fifth time they had to put her on a breathing machine since her lungs were incapable of working properly. This is the seventeenth time she was doing so well, only to cave back under. I lost count of how often I sat by her bedside, trying to focus on a book, but unable to process the words. How I would glance up every time the heart monitor would skip a beat, and I would wonder if once again I’d have to leave her side. I looked over at her, her chest barely rising and falling. There was no semblance of peace anywhere on her face and I know that she’s fighting to see the next sunrise. A small, tiny victory she was so proud of.

I closed the book with a snap and leaned back into the chair. The book was heavy on my lap, reminding me of my research that I was trying to do. Demons. The Occult. I already tried to appease gods and angels since she was practically one herself, but that wasn’t happening any time soon. No, I -she- needed results. Her life was being drained every moment of every day. I already knew I couldn’t bear to see her funeral. I couldn’t watch them place her in a coffin and lowered to the ground. Loneliness could kill someone and it definitely would come after me since I didn’t pay my dues.

I looked back into my lap. There was a specific spell that I could probably do that would help expand her life. I don’t know what the price would be, every demon was different. I knew that I should take time to prepare myself. I could very well be leaving her behind to a world where I was no longer around.

I reached and took her hand into mine. I was disappointed in how cool her touch was to me. I remember when her hands were warm and affectionate. I remember her vibrant with life, and a spark that could set fire to a nearby building. Trouble was in her veins, and I would follow her just so that I could get a taste of what she could see. I was not apathetic, but I certainly didn’t have the empathy for life she had.

She’s an adventure, and she’s not done yet. Though, what adventures have I had that would make me pause and ponder? I already knew that answer. I already knew that she didn’t belong on this bed. Not in this room filled with machines that were endlessly beeping and nurses muttering about how much time she might have left and doctors wondering if there was even a point to keeping her here or to let her die comforted by family and friends.

Her mother would have been torn apart, my family wouldn’t bat an eye at me, considering I didn’t have one to begin with. Though I can imagine her mother already yelling at me for thinking such things. Being her daughter’s friend meant family, so perhaps I should take that back. She would definitely be upset at the way my mind was whirling about, trying to find a way to save Xina.

I eyed the book with skepticism, and with hope. I don’t think there’s a reason to continue my endless tirade. I picked up the book and I looked back at her. It’s hard to see her so pale, so dead. It’s hard to see her without make up that’s usually decorated on her face. I want to tease her for forgetting her eyeliner. I want to make fun of the crazy lipstick colors she found. I want to see her eyes roll at me, and tease me for my black wardrobe and my personality.

These wants made my heart clench. There was nothing to say to someone that couldn’t hear, but just in case she could…I stood up and squeezed her hand. “‘You drew memories in my mind I could never erase’.” I started walking towards the door and paused. “You painted colors in my heart, I could never replace’.”(1) I walked out and headed down the hallway. The further I left her room, the more resolved I became.

I was going to save my best friend’s life. The cost and the price didn’t matter. I couldn’t afford hesitation.

X

Home. They say that’s where the heart is, but my heart wasn’t anywhere in here and you could tell. I turned on the lights of the apartment, and I felt a wave of disappointment, grief, and anger swallow me. The last time I was here, I merely took a shower and headed back, I didn’t want to be where she wasn’t. She was alone, and suffering, and fighting. I know that nothing I could do would help; not there.

The chairs were still knocked over and scattered from when she had stopped breathing during…was it dinner or lunch? She had fallen to the ground and I had dove to make sure that I could cushion her impact. The dirty plates and utensils were still in the kitchen sink, aching to be cleaned again. The couch still had a rumpled bloodied throw that needed to be neither cleaned or tossed since the blood had dried. Her door to her bedroom was closed, but a light was still shining through. My door was open and completely dark.

There was a thin layer of dust coating the coffee table as well as the other furniture. The apartment needed to be vacuumed and cleaned, if we were going to pass inspection. I wondered if the landlord already came by, and already knew that we weren’t here. He was never surprised. I remembered when he pulled me to the side once. The conversation wasn’t exactly crystal clear, but he wasn’t pleased with the idea of having someone that could drop dead at any moment for a tenant.

I do remember making a joke that having a ghost around the apartment would make things more lively. I recall her laughing at it later on. Now I would do whatever I could to take those words back. Anyone’s ghost was better, just not hers.

I walked into my room, the book in my hand still clenched. As I walked by her room, I could smell a faint scent of vanilla and lavender, one of her favorite perfumes. The ache in my chest increased and I reached to touch the doorknob. I hesitated, and then I turned it and pushed the door open.

The fairy lights that were strung up on the wall behind her bed were still on. They were twinkling a soft white light, bathing her room in an orange glow. Her dream board of different places that she wanted to visit was hanging on the wall next to the window where an empty vase was. I mentally noted to collect a flower and put it there for her. Her desk was in disorder, notebooks and papers strewn all over the place, I couldn’t tell what was important and what wasn’t.

Her one game system looked more dusty than the rest of the apartment combined. I wrinkled my nose, how could she let it go like that? I wasn’t by any means a tidy person, but that just bothered me a little. Then I looked to see there were three pictures on either end of the desk. One to the left, in the middle, and on the right. Pictures of us.

A picture of when we graduated high school. Xina wore the dark black lipstick as though she were mocking the colors we had to wear. Her arm was wrapped around my shoulder and I had my own wrapped around her waist. I remember the fight she had with her hair. The wavy curls were a bitch and she had wanted to chop her hair off since she thought that would be better. I remember what we wanted to do afterwards. Xina was going to go to college and work as a library assistant, I was going into literature. Maybe do something with writing since poetry struck my fancy for so long.

The other picture was of a beach, of us and her mom. Her mom had the same colored hair, but she was a little more darker skinned than the rest of us. My lips quirked. We both weren't exactly pleased to be in the sun, the sunburn afterwards made us both agree that we were probably vampires and we shouldn't try to change that fact. shades we wore looked out of character for us all. I wanted to cringe. I should've just tossed those when I had the chance, but it was a fun picture. She looked better in shades and she knew it. She got out in the sun more, we were more homebodies. I admit, it was the first time she wore a bikini that wasn't black. She looked in red, though I'd never say it to her face.

The third picture was of us in the photo booth. It was our first time in one and I wasn’t exactly pleased about being dragged into it. She wanted to, she wanted to know what the hype and interest was about it. She had kissed my cheek and my surprised expression captured what I thought. I could still see the pink in my cheeks. I had told her to get rid of it, I suppose she decided to sneak it somehow someway.

I looked down at the book that I was holding. I flipped through the pages, I looked for the exact ritual that I would need to use. The materials listed weren’t too hard to find. It was just going to take a long time to collect…and I wasn’t sure if time was really on my side for this. I looked back at the desk, at the photos of us.

“To the you who have shown me love and gave me shelter, it’s only right and fair I do the same for you.” I reached and I touched the picture that I despised at the time. I could no longer find it in my heart to be upset that she had taken the photo with her and displayed it openly.

If it made her happy. I let my fingers trace her cheek. If it made her happy then that was all that mattered. I turned on my heel and I walked into my room, which was a lot more darker and colder than hers.

My memories of her were etched in pen and ink. The journal was still laid open on my desk. I didn’t have much in my name. My walls were filled with shelves had plenty of books. My bed was unmade, the blankets still tangled in knots from that morning. I had been sleeping on the couch here instead of in my own room, just in case the phone rang and I needed to answer it quickly.

V-

I turned around quickly. She wasn’t here, and yet I heard her voice clear as day. There was a loud bang and I jumped, realizing that the book had fallen from my grasp. I bent down to pick it up when I saw that it had landed on a page of a demon summoning circle. It was simple, much more so than the one that I had previously found. The picture of the demon was a horrendous drawing, probably in hopes to dissuade people from trying. It looked practically ridiculous to me, though I couldn't shake off the cold I suddenly felt when I looked upon the drawing.

Real demons were going to be a lot scarier, if the summoning circle was legit. There was no harm in trying. If it didn’t work, then it didn’t work, there were other occult books out there that would probably have a better, easier way of making a pact with a demon. I couldn't afford to waste time, Xina couldn't afford me to waste time.

I folded the corner of the page and I closed the book. I didn’t have a bookmark and I didn’t have this book memorized. I could hear her laughing, faking a gasp at the book’s defilement.

She wasn’t dead. I had to remind myself that I could hear her laugh later. That I could tell her about this. I could tease her about the photo in her room. But time felt as though it was ticking down. The wait for midnight wasn’t going to be easy, not in this apartment, and certainly not when the phone stayed eerily silent in the kitchen.

I was just going to have to breathe, read, and hope for the best till then.

~

Midnight came torturously slow. I should be grateful that the phone hadn’t rang once, but my nerves were on edge. I don’t know if it’s because I was away from the hospital and I wasn’t sure about her condition, or if it’s because I was about to do something that would change our lives forever. I would’ve told her. I would’ve told her my idea and plan. She would’ve given me every bit of advice she could find, she would have been more thorough in her search, she would have stopped me.

Perhaps I was waiting for the phone to ring. I was waiting for a reason to not try. The phone stayed silent and I cut my hand with a steak knife. The serrated edges burned my skin and I immediately regretted not using a smooth blade instead. The blood dripped into the black candle that was lit.

“I call out my wish into the dark abyss. Three drops of blood for the demon’s bliss. I welcome you here with my soul to kiss. A sacrifice and a promise, I offer you this.”

The candle flickered and turned into a ruby color. The energy crackled around me, making my hair raise up. My stomach twisted and I felt the room spin in so many directions I wasn’t sure if I was still sitting or if I had gotten up to stand. The demon that appeared before me…I couldn’t even begin to describe it. Every time I tried to look, I felt static go against my eyes and my ears rang. I could imagine an eye, and the color blue. But what color the eye was, and where the blue was from, I couldn't even begin to try to say.

“A human? Summoning me from the Underworld?” The demon clicked his tongue, his words were practically a growl. “You’re not even a witch’s descendent, this shouldn’t have worked.”

I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say. The words were slurring together in my mind. Was this a trick to make sure that I'd just agree to anything so that I wouldn't know the consequences or was this the energy that was being sucked out?

“Yet here we are,” The Demon cooed. “What’s your wish?”

“Alexina.” I knew that I had to give her full name. It was the only way that I could be certain that this would bind, that this would work. “Her life hangs. I want to do something to get rid of the disease that racks her body.”

“I am not a God,” The Demon spat, “Hadn’t you tried to pray for that?” Selfless reasons and wishes I supposed would make a demon cower. “No matter. I suppose we could do better than that. Considering who you are…” He trailed off. “There is a price.”

I held my breath.

“She will get her health back, but you will lose yours. You will be filled with my energy. You will exist only as long as she exists.” The Demon said thoughtfully. “You will lose your humanity.”

“Then that’s the price I pay.” I wouldn't even stop to hesitate.

The Demon laughed, a wicked and cruel sound that brought another shiver down my spine. The world continued to spin and I tried to hold myself up. I felt weak. I felt like I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The Demon leered with a fanged smile that was too close for comfort. He was going to eat me, was my fearful thought and my sight started to darken around the edges.

“You're on your own on how to use the energy given to you. I wonder how you will fair." The Demon smirked. "I wonder if you'll call upon me again, to beg this curse removed."

He snapped his fingers and I felt a strong surge of pain rack through my body. I felt as though someone was tearing at my skin, claws ripping at my flesh. I screamed, my nails gripping onto the ground as I tried to steady myself. I didn’t realize that I was on my side until I opened my eyes again. I felt as though someone had slammed me hard with a van. I felt so sick to my stomach, I could easily vomit. My breathing was erratic and I didn’t dare try to sit up. My body was trembling as though I hadn’t eaten in three days.

"I will see you in death."

I blacked out, his laughter echoing in my mind.

(1) Perry Poetry

You can find my fanfiction here: AO3

You can also find Spirit-Of-The-Void’s story here: SpiritChilde

[thebibliosphere]

Sorry if you’ve answered this before, but how did you and ETD meet? I love reading about your interactions! You guys are so sweet and you make me excited to find someone in the future who loves me and my oddities. ^-^

All right well brace yourselves, this is likely not as romantic as you’re thinking.

It was online a very long time ago, on a geeky writer fanzine run predominantly by elf enthusiasts (the final Lord of the Rings had just come out, everything was elves for a long time). He liked my writing, and I liked that he liked my writing, so we became friends in what would turn out to be very turbulent times for both of us.

I was an emotional wreck, stuck at home, dating my abusive ex and unable to get away from him, and ETD was also going through some shit as well. My abusive ex was also on the fanzine (because wherever I went online, he went too. He also used to log in as me and go through my messages and delete any he didn’t like) and unlike ETD and a few others, like @ahzuri and @dreamwaffles (holy crap we’ve been friends a long time), he thought my writing was worthless and took every opportunity to put me down and just generally be a bag of assholes.

So while I was dating Asshole, future-husband-to-be and cryptid-in-training now known as ETD, sort of filled in the void where emotional stability and support ought to be. Something which I was also doing for him, while we both urged the other to get help and basically just sort of held each other above water long enough to find the strength to keep kicking on our own again. He was my best friend, long before I realized he was my soul mate. (Though not necessarily my sole mate, I’ve never ascribed to the idea of “one true love” or fate.)

I still remember the first time we had a webcam chat and I felt my stomach drop cause “oh no he’s hot”. I tried valiantly to stop staring at his hands or the crook of his smile, but the guy talks a lot with his hands and smiles a lot too, so it wasn’t easy. And I was still very much firmly in denial that I had feelings for him because nope nope nope, that just wouldn’t do. Besides, I was still dating Asshole and as much as I was desperately unhappy, I was just as equally desperate for his approval and affection and thought maybe if I just tried harder, I might deserve it.

Except things just kept going from bad to worse and some days the only thing keeping me going was the hour a day where I could talk to the dorky American sending me vaguely flirty but mostly benign friendly messages from over 4000 miles away, and who was always telling me I was smart and funny and he loved what I had written that day, and how he always looked forward to talking to me. Vs. my then actual boyfriend, who isolated me from my friends and got off on hurting me in not good ways, and made me feel like I deserved it. And he hated that I was talking to husband-to-be, hated it. It actually resulted in an argument where he told me (again) that I was lucky to have him because no one else would ever want me because I was so ugly. But instead of backing down like I normally did, I stormed off thinking to myself, “fuck him, who the fuck does he think he is, I bet ETD would appreciate a picture of my tits” and, well, I was right.

…Anyway. 

That went on for a while and I eventually found the emotional strength to break up permanently with Asshole and moved on with my life. I started going to college, made new friends…and still lived for those little moments when the $1 text message would show up every morning that would say “Good morning gorgeous :)” and tried to convince myself I had no feelings for him beyond enjoying his attention and our meaningful conversations about love, life and the universe as a whole. We even talked to each other about other partners we had, we were just…the constant in each other’s variables. 

And then my family decided they were going to go on vacation in the USA and we thought, hey great, lets meet up. He needed a friendly date for a wedding, and I needed to not spend three weeks in Florida with my family, great, sure lets meet up.

So I’m getting off the flight from Florida and I want to vomit. Like for real, I almost throw up in a trashcan I am so nervous which is ridiculous. Because I am meeting my friend. Sure he knew all my deepest darkest fears and all my fragile hopes in dreams. And what I looked like without my clothes on. But it wasn’t like this was a Big Deal or anything (haha, right…right? guys?…right?)

So I’m hightailing it through the airport, checking my phone to see if he messaged me back after I texted him from the plane, and I make it to baggage claim, and there’s a lull in foot traffic and the people part—and of course he has his back to me—and I get this overwhelming sense of calm wash over me. But he also very firmly has his back to me, and because I’m an absolute gremlin I decided to sneak up behind him because that’s the kind of person I am. Except that didn’t work because he turned at the last minute and suddenly I’m off the ground and we’re hugging and laughing and it takes over a full minute or more before either one of us actually says anything and when we do it’s this giddy breathless rush of hi/hello…you look, haha, no you go first, no YOU…how was your flight/drive, here let me get your bag/no it’s okay I, well if you insist…

I’d like to say it was love at first sight but I’m not that much of a romantic. I mean it was something at first sight because on the drive back to his parents house we didn’t say anything, we just stared at each other, holding hands the entire way. Which was very bad because he was meant to be watching the road not me. But we survived, made it into his parents house, put my suitcase into the guest room, went downstairs to get a glass of water and managed about maybe…two minutes?? of polite conversation?? And then we just sort of launched ourselves at each other and have been largely inseparable (emotionally speaking) ever since. 

It was one of the best weeks of my life, and I finally knew we had something more special than what I had allowed myself to believe it was. And not just because the final Harry Potter book came out that week and he let me read his copy before he did, but I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a big part of it.

Flash forward through five years of me finishing college and only being able to see each other once a year and trying to figure out where our relationship was going, (we like each other, we decide, we really really like each other and we’re good for each other and we love each other, maybe we could make this whole thing work if we try really hard) and he proposed via a rhyming treasure hunt and a mug of tea.

A year and a bit later we were married in Scotland, with our friends and family around us, and a sizable chunk of Internet friends who had been following our blatant denial for years, cheering us on from the sidelines. And now we’re here, five years married in May, still holding hands in the car when we shouldn’t, still very glad with the life choices we made that brought us here. Even on the bad days.

Which I figure must mean we’re doing something right.

[4wordletter]

@say-never i’m gonna reply to the rest of your post tomorrow, if that’s okay. i didn’t wanna focus on too much at once and i feel quite down tonight.

I’ll admit, it’s sometimes a little hard to know where I stand with you. I do take your reassurances at face value, of course, and I know I often need reminding. but I also try to remember that you’ve been through a hell of a lot emotionally. I only know what you’ve told me; I don’t have your lived experiences. there’s a lot that you’ve gone through that I don’t even know about, and you don’t have to tell me about it– it’s enough to know it happened. I can’t expect you to be as open about emotion as I am, or even able to feel things like I do (and I’ve been pretty dulled myself). maybe I’ve been reading you wrong at times; it’s hard to, especially through text. but I can hear it in your voice sometimes, I think. something flat. could be exhaustion, could be everything. of course I forgive your lacking in reciprocal effort; I appreciate all that you do give me. I know you’re trying, and you’re trying because you want to, not because you think I expect you to. it’s not easy. but you know as well as I do that shrugging everything off and staying in the emotionless void isn’t healthy for you.

i think you’re spot on with your analysis: there is something flat in my voice. i posted last week something about how i feel “emotionally as flat as a pancake”, lol. i’ve felt that way for a long time now. well, for 2 years at least.

to be honest, it’s depression. it’s numbness. it’s a complete lack of anything. it’s not being tired or worn out or anything like that, it’s just a state of mind. at times, i’m just blank. i literally stare off into the distance with what i’m assuming is a vacant expression on my face.

it wasn’t always that way. i do try to remember when it wasn’t like that. i use my happy past self as something to aim for. something before all of this happened.

i don’t think it’s realistic. experiences in life shape you. they shape your personality like clay. i can’t somehow “unshape” myself. i’ve seen and experienced things, people, that will stay with me until i die.

on that topic, i feel i can confide this in you: i’ve been waiting to die for a while. not in an “i hate my life way” or anything like that. i’m fully committed to life and i want to live my life to the fullest. i want to spread love, peace and happiness to everyone i meet. i still want to do these things. 

i do enjoy life. i just feel like...this isn’t for me. i have been given life by God and i will honor him by not rejecting his gift of life. i will never under any circumstances kill myself. i find it childish, something like throwing a temper tantrum because life hasn’t gone your way. so you throw your toys from the stroller. i don’t want to do that at all.

i do enjoy life. i just feel as if its passion and vibrancy has been stripped or stolen away from me by M’s parents. you don’t understand just how much i applied myself, how dedicated and loyal i was to these people. i had such passion and love, nothing would stand in my way. i lived with my whole heart and i loved with my whole heart.

i flew 3000 odd miles just to propose to her. to join her family. only to be met with silence, and a week later a complete cut in contact. not only that, but to be practically framed for something i never did into the bargain. with no explanation, no nothing. it’s now 2 years later and there has been no apology, no explanation. nothing at all. that really takes its toll on a guy like me. or, i mean, the guy i used to be.

i’ve awoken to the nature of reality and how people really are. how they treat each other. i was blind to everything before. i thought if a girl said she loved you, she meant it. i thought if you went to church with a family, it meant they were good, upstanding, God-loving people who strive for love and peace, who show it in their actions and thoughts. i thought if a woman’s father says “welcome to the family,” it means just that.

i want no part in a world that flips the script like that. where i cannot place my faith in people, where i cannot take people at their word. i don’t want to live in a world where common, everyday experiences are so corrupted, so tainted with pure darkness.

i think, at the core, the issue is disbelief. i cannot for the life of me fathom how on earth 2 fully grown Christian adults could possibly have done any of what they did in good conscience. to whisper all sorts of vile things about me into my then-girlfriend’s ear, to manipulate and warp her perception of reality in such a manner that i look like an evil demon that should be tossed aside like trash. to fill her head with such nonsense that she has absolutely no problem in blocking the man who proposed to her literally 3 days previous. to undermine her authority over her own life, her own destiny.

no. that’s not any kind of world i want to be a part of, no thank you. it’s horrible and it makes my skin crawl just thinking about what they did to me. i hope to God you never have to explain to your friends and family, when they ask about your trip and your proposal, that your “fiancee” is no longer speaking to you. that her mother practically took the ring from her finger and sent it back in a box, leaving me to figure out just what the fuck happened.

no thank you. i love God, i love his gift of life, but no thank you. i tried with all my heart and soul. no more. i have nothing else to give.

i’m sorry i mess you around and you don’t know where you stand with me. the reason is this: i will never let anyone close enough to hurt me like that ever again. never ever. this isn’t a conscious choice in any way, it’s my natural reaction now. i have a ton of friends but i’m not close to any of them. i don’t want anyone to know me. i don’t want to hurt anyone. 

i’ve inherited this hand-me-down trauma from M and her parents. i want it to stop here. people who do fucked up things like what they did to me, it could easily turn me into a monster who in turn does fucked up things to others. by that mechanism, it spreads person by person. more and more people get hurt. it’s passed from decade to decade, century to century. 

i’m not the first person they did this to and i won’t be the last, but i certainly won’t be foisting this shit on some poor unsuspecting woman who would be just as “emotionally innocent” as i used to be. i could never live with myself. that’s why i keep you at bay. that’s why i keep everyone at bay.

M told me not to try to fix her. she blocked and deleted me so many times before we even met in real life. i persisted. i thought i was a shining light and there was no wound i couldn’t heal. i was so full of myself. i thought there was no amount of darkness that could overcome me. i lied to myself. there was, and it bit me hard.

i will guarantee you this though: i will always communicate. i have these demons now too, but i can see them. i see them for what they are. i was never afforded this privilege, i was always left to figure out what i’d “done wrong” whenever she disappeared or wouldn’t want to talk. i won’t do that to you. the reason i don’t want to talk sometimes is because i’m dead inside. but, chances are, tomorrow might be better, and i’ll be back to my normal self. the day after that is anyone’s guess. that’s how this works, it seems. if only i knew back then. 

i don’t want you to be feeling “if only i knew back then” in 3 years about me. i’m telling you now, straight and upfront what is wrong with me. i know what’s wrong with me, i know what caused this, i know the names of the people that did it. i may be pretty messed up but i’m also very self-aware. i know exactly what it is they’ve done to me.

still, life is sort of a waiting room for me now. yeah, i’m okay in here but i’d like to leave as soon as possible, if that makes sense. i’m sure it does. i’m not the first person to ever feel like shit.

[whosearmyblog-blog]

So, like, what  is this? What are you doing?

First things first, I know no one is reading this. OK, maybe I’m reading this in the future or the one person out of the two I’ve told about this who I know has a tumblr account (hi cal) is, but otherwise I’m shouting (well, typing) into a void. But I figured that a void to shout into would be nice.Maybe the best way to do a “first post” would be answer some hypothetical questions from a hypothetical (and non-existent) reader. And even if it isn’t, hey, it’s a form of structure at least. If I’m going to ramble to no one, why not do it in a semi-structured way.So...

Who?

If you (again, hypothetical, non-existent you) couldn’t tell from the subtitle to this blog, I’m a musician. Well, not really, but an aspiring musician. I think that’s the polite term for someone who tries to write songs in their spare time. My name isn’t really attached to this, but I’m also not all that concerned with anonymity. If I ever link to something I’ve recorded it’ll probably have my name on it somewhere and that’s just kind of going to come out at some point so I’m not that concerned. But for now I’m Whose Army. It’s a decent stage name, if a little hard to get on social media (hell, I didn’t even really get it here).

tl,dr: No one really. A nobody with an unrealistic idea of wanting to be a musician.

What?

So what is this? Well, it’s a blog. No shit. But what kind of blog? Probably an insufferable one. Basically, I need a journal of sorts. Except whenever I’ve tried keeping one, either physically or digitally but in a word document, I end up throwing it out or deleting it. So this is like an ultimatum to myself. There’s probably some way to delete posts and I know I don’t actually have an audience here but it’s easier to see this as a place where I can write down ideas or thoughts and then I can’t just erase them ten minutes later. Maybe it’ll just be lyric fragments or song ideas, maybe I’ll be really pretentious and “explain” my songs if I want to distract from my lack of progress in actually writing. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do with this, or if I’m even going to use it regularly.  tl,dr: A journal of sorts that i won’t be able to just erase on a whim. Well, I can but I won’t. I think. Actually I probably will but let’s pretend I won’t for now.

When?

If you’re talking about when I’ll post updates, no idea. It won’t be daily or anything but I’ll try to make it a habit as long as I have something to say. If you mean when I’m going to release music, I’d like to set myself a loose deadline of releasing my first EP (or album or whatever it becomes) by or in summer 2019. I’ve written most if not all of it, but I’ve done no recording (which I just about know how to do) and no mixing (which I have zero clue whatsoever how to do, so be prepared for some shitty lofi stuff). tl,dr: The future, I guess.

Where? 

Here. I’ve yet to set up a bandcamp page, but I’ll likely post it here once I have anything to show for it. That will likely also be when (hypothetical and non-existent) you will get a name reveal (in italics because, again, I’m not really hiding my name, I just haven’t used it yet) as I probably won’t be able to grab Whose Army on any other platforms (and I may not even want to). tl,dr: Come on, this one was short. You can read it.

Why?

I don’t know, the aforementioned void thing? This is a lot like the What question, but it is different. It’ll be a nice place to track updates, remind myself to do work on music and occasionally (knowing me) write something really sad without realising it then regretting my decision to not delete shit. This will never find an audience and I’m pretty OK with that- it might actually be preferable, honestly. When I do put music out, even if it’s small, an audience would probably benefit me. But this? I’d be OK if nobody ever sees it.

Hey, just like the title! tl,dr: Why am I putting so much effort into formatting something no one will read? I doubt the one other person who knows about this will even read this far (hi again cal if you make it this far). I probably wouldn’t. This is a waste of time, isn’t it?

[hahawhatislife]

I posted 48 times in 2021

38 posts created (79%)

10 posts reblogged (21%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.3 posts.

I added 31 tags in 2021

#incorrect quotes - 6 posts

#might delete this later - 4 posts

#stuff i find on tumblr: book one - may 2021 - 3 posts

#stuff i find on tumblr: book one - 3 posts

#stuff i find on tumblr: the series - 3 posts

#thoughts from the void - book one - june 2021 - 3 posts

#thoughts from the void - book one - 3 posts

#6/3/2021 (mm/dd/yyyy) - 2 posts

#original character: anyxt leighton - 2 posts

#oc/self insert - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 106 characters

#the shenanigans of high schoolers running on hope and crackers 24/7 because none of them know how to adult

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Chocolate...? (MHA Drabble 2)

I got an idea again. Self insert fueled by my own shenanigans. If it's ooc, I'm sorry-

-----------

It was rather quiet in the dorms, a far cry from 1-A's usual chaos and shenanigans. Everyone was doing their own thing, enjoying the peace.

It was shattered when Tokoyami of all people yelled from the kitchen across the dorms. "Moone! Come claim your share of my bounty before Dark Shadow and I consume it!"

Moone practically rocketed out of her place curled up on an armchair, sprinting to the kitchen excitedly. She had a strange expression on, a grin that was more bared teeth and energy than a smile and slightly crazed eyes. Not two seconds later, a muted, brittle CRACK! rang through the dorms, Moone gasping excitedly not long after.

It was silent then. Kaminari was almost ready to walk over and see why it was quiet all of a sudden, but Moone all but collapsed out of the kitchen, hastily throwing a "thank you!" over her shoulder and back into the kitchen. She hurriedly stuffed what looked to be half of a frozen chocolate bar partway into her mouth, the other half grasped in her hands.

2 notes • Posted 2021-06-05 03:07:26 GMT

#4

ask me stuffs please

just ask me stuff about what i write, if i draw, what’s the weather like where i live, anything you want! i want to interact with people!!

3 notes • Posted 2021-05-20 15:30:14 GMT

#3

MHA Drabble

I had this idea while making breakfast this morning... And now I want to write it. This IS a self-insert, but it's more of a passing thought than anything else. If I ever write more of this, I'll flesh it out then. For now, on to the story!

(Also if I get the character personalities wrong, please don't fuss at me. I'm trying to be accurate-)

-----------------------------------------------

It was a Saturday. Most of 1-A was in their dorms, taking the chance to sleep in or catch up on homework. A notable few, namely Mina and Denki, were sprawled on the couches in the common area.

Another notable few were in the kitchen, making coffee and food for themselves. Uraraka, Midoriya, Iida, Moone, and Tsuyu specifically.

4 notes • Posted 2021-05-30 15:52:21 GMT

#2

school let out two hours ago for summer why is it oNLY NOW THAT I FEEL LIKE I'M HIGH ON SERATONIN AND GIGGLING LIKE I'M SLEEP DEPRIVED

4 notes • Posted 2021-06-11 21:19:21 GMT

#1

Prologue (Colors of your Soulmate)

Ever since he could remember, Anyxt couldn’t see red. When he was little, he would get teased for the strange color he couldn’t see. The children would chant, “Red, red, where are you?” over and over as they danced around him. Briefly, he had wondered if his eyes were red too, but his mother had told him they were the color he always saw when he looked--grey, like liquid silver.

As Anyxt grew, so too did his fascination with color. He would always doodle in red pen or pencil or crayon in the margins of his papers, and left beautiful red flames wherever his pencil touched. He was praised by his peers for his drawing skills, yet he stared at the grey fire with disinterest.

‘Why can’t I see the color?’, he would think.

Soon, he met an interesting girl. Her eyes were a sapphire blue, and she wore lots of dusky pink and faded purple. She told Anyxt that she couldn’t see brown, and he felt a little envy. Such a common color to not be able to see, when he was stuck with red of all colors. When he was told of how amber and orange was added to the color she couldn’t see around the age of ten, he stopped being jealous. People don’t often lose sight of other colors in addition to the original one, after all.

Anyxt became fast friends with Salene Emily. They spent years finding each other in school and staying in contact as time passed. Before he knew it, the day came when Salene came rushing up to him and almost squealing about how his hair was such a warm brown and dirt and trees were so pretty. He knew she had found her soulmate then, and braced himself for her moony-eyed phase. Salene, surprisingly, stayed with him and kept him company as she usually did. Anyxt had yet to meet her soulmate, and looked forward to meeting them. When Salene mentioned that her soulmate’s brother couldn’t see grey or silver, it almost seemed too good to be true.

———————— When Onpolyx was little, he couldn’t understand why he saw ivory instead of grey. He thought nothing was wrong with it, but would cry when he got teased for it. Slowly, he started to realize that it wasn’t normal. Until the concept of soulmates was explained to him, he thought there was something wrong with him.

After that, every day after he came home from school, he would gather all the grey items he could find in his room and would stare at them. He would ask his sister Ophelia what was grey and what wasn’t, as if trying to train his eyes to see grey. This would go on for days and years until the two were stolen away one night. When they came back days later, Ophelia was blind in one eye and Onpolyx was hardened.

posted 2021-07-13 00:51:05 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →