#okay im done writing my paragraph of text

[yoylechess]

feel almost neurotypical today.... i got a ton of shit done in succession with like almost no thought.... scary....

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no���s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[emmyrosee]

let’s get angsty bc my cycle is late again and nO IM NOT PREGNANT SHADDUP-

-

Kuroo is known for being ridiculously focused.

When he’s in it, he’s fully into the thick of it, throwing himself into the responsibility of making his work the best it can be, the words and statistics being all he knows for those many hours he sits, tapping his fingers on the laptop on his desk.

Nothing else can weasel its way into his focus when he’s working on something. 9 times out of 10, he’s immune to the interruptions of the outside world.

But nothing snaps him out of a focus more than your pretty voice. Especially if it’s in distress.

But he’s not perfect.

“Tetsuro?”

“What’s up, princess?” He hums, barely looking up from his laptop. He merely pushes the glasses on his nose up and continues to type. He hears you sigh softly and shift on your feet.

“Todays just… been rough,” you explain, and finally Tetsuro pauses to look at you. “Do you… do you think you could come and cuddle? I know you’re busy but… but I really need you.”

Tetsuro smiles and nods understanding, “yeah baby. Just let me wrap up this paragraph or two and I’ll come right down. Make sure you eat something okay? Don’t wait for me.”

You smile hopefully and nod, slipping out of his study to your room, letting Tetsuro right back to his work. He makes a mental note of the time before cracking his neck and diving right back in.

One sentence turns to a paragraph. Then, one paragraph turns to two. Two to three. Three eventually becomes two pages and Tetsuro is on a writing high that he can’t stop; he’s smiling at his own work, eagerly gnawing his lip and beyond excited to finally wrap this shit up, and-

He’s interrupted by a buzzing on his desk.

Annoyed, he tries to pause it to stop, but when he can’t, he groans in frustration before picking up his phone.

22:30 : Medicine.

Fuck.

It isn’t until his medicine alarm goes off that he realizes how late it’s gotten. It’s been four hours since you came in.

When he snoozes his alarm, there’s a text from you that shatters his heart: gn i guess

Immediately, Tetsuro feels sick to his stomach. He doesn’t even bother shutting off the lights and saving the documents on his computer before he flies down the stairs and into the room, chest heaving and breath caught in his throat when he sees the heatable bear encased in your arms, light from the tv casting a shadow on your features. He tries so hard to keep his breathing quiet, he knows he let you go to bed alone, cold and in your own head waiting for his stupid ass to come down and be with you.

He swallows thickly before he shuffles over to you, plopping on the edge of the bed and trying to keep you comfortable. He doesn’t want to wake you, not when he’s done so much already.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers, thumb gently smoothing over your temple. You whimper and angle your head into the warmth of his hand. “Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

Sometimes, when Tetsuro talks to you in your sleep, you give him a smile, a little quirk of the lips at the tone, and he takes it as a sign that you’re there with him and you can feel his love even if you’re not conscious to witness it.

Tonight, though, your brows furrow. Your throat releases a meager noise of distress and he sinks his teeth into his lip; even as you welcome his touch, it’s as if his words still distress you, and you’re hurt. Your nose lets out small, huffy breaths, and you crush the bear tighter to your chest.

He lets his head down in defeat before kissing your head one more time before standing up; he shuffles like a zombie up back into the small study and shutting everything down: slamming his laptop shut, snatching the cold cup of tea and aggressively flicking off the lights to go back and join you in bed.

He plants the tea on his nightstand before curling up next to you under the covers, careful to keep his cold feet away from you. He tugs you softly to his chest wordlessly and buries his head against your neck, arms heavy and caging to keep you against him.

He wishes you could feel the way he’s blinking back his frustrated, remorseful tears. He wishes you could’ve had your last awoken moments be filled with cuddles and giggles and stolen kisses and playful bites.

But no. Instead, you needed him, you came and asked for him, and he couldn’t stop himself for one damn hour to be with you.

“I’m so sorry, babydoll.”

[beddybites]

Do yiu have any tips on like how to attract more attention ���� it's been a good while and it's a huge struggle of keeping motivation and not so amazing art so it's hard to sure my characters and their stories bc one thing a can say in confidence is I am a good writer I'd like to think, people tell me I have and oddly good but cryptic way of writing that keeps people enthralled, but my biggest struggle is getting them interested in the first place 😭

hi there!! i admittedly dont really know much about the world of writing and how to gain more attention there, but i can try to give tips and see what applies & sticks!

start off short & simple and build it up over time

if you start off with something big and complicated there will be more pressure to keep things big and complicated. theres nothing wrong with short and simple and mixing it up here & there (ie with art: if you only post full pieces with extravagant rendering people will keep expecting it. mix it up a bit. i try posting a variety of sketches and doodles and more detailed things— sometimes some things do better than others and thats ok!

it is 100% okay to repost/reblog your own work

if you ever see me spamming my blog with the same posts, its so i have it back on peoples feeds and on my main profile and its easier for people to find. its also likely that some ppl missed the post, and reblogging/reposting gives them the opportunity to see it!!

something something “its cringe and egotistical” WRONG!!!!!!!!!! its completely normal for creators to repost their content and it may help a lot!!

short & sweet descriptons

when you post, avoid giant paragraphs of text, especially if you’re including art in the post. people will be distracted and will see a giant post and just scroll past it

speaking of descriptions, try using trendy words and notable names

its kinda like hashtagging. if you look at my posts you’ll typically see how i will drop people’s full names + include the word “art” or “doodle” … this is because it will more likely show up on someones feed if said person looks up the same words.

ie: googling “muichiro tokito art” -> insert my post popping up because it has “muichiro tokito art” written out in the description

i admittedly have trouble providing tips as someone who doesnt rlly understand how i got noticed to begin with haha. something something imposter syndrome or whatever they call it these days… so im not really sure if anything above helps, but this is stuff i typically try to keep in mind when i post with the intent of trying to get people to see it

more importantly—

i know this is cheesy and this is easier said than done (i have this habit too a lot of the time) but numbers does not equal ur worth or talent. i know it isnt motivating and it can be so heartbreaking): but even if ur stuff doesnt get a lot of notoriety please know it doesnt define your value . this may sound like gibberish as it is 5 am as im posting this but truly… never give up on ur work!!! i promise u someone out there loves it

im more well known for my deaging & fluff content and to this day im rlly shocked it blew up the way it did. i really made it for myself. i came up with a whole alias and didnt plan on posting it anywhere bc i was so scared ppl would hate it and harass me or nobody would gaf. but eventually i was just like Man. if this thing helps me then maybe it can help someone out there too. and it helped provide ppl some joy & wonder and whimsy & made them feel seen and truly thats all i could ever want…

its difficult and its hard but i promise u… be patient and kind to yourself. it can definitely be hard sharing things around and getting that exposure you need but there are ways for sure. some journeys are faster than others and thats ok!

again sorry if this is all gibberish its super late ): but i hope this could help in some way shape or form

[quirkthieves]

i really don't want to dignify this with more than i have to, but okay. speedrun to address all those paragraphs because i really did not bother reading most of it i literally just woke up

-a dni isnt a callout. its just a boundary. in fact, the reason i said i didnt want close friends of ire to interact was for reasons like this, where this grown adult proceeds to flip the fuck out on people. i didnt make a callout. there wasnt anything callout worthy. just someone being a douchebag. in fact, i was fine interacting with mutuals of ire and ire themselves all the way up until shit hit the fan, in which case i think im very well justified in saying "yeah i dont think our circles should interlap very much". you know, after ire flipped out on Marx, because marx is a friend of mine and anyone who can do that to a mutual friend just because we're mutual friends and just because marx is friends with lys is ridiculous. i wont go into marx's stuff unless they want me to but are you for real rn

-i can post our full convos if you really want i kept the screenshots but here's the rundown: first: saying rxgelord writing age up smut was just "his business" was kinda weird. im gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and say you didnt really mean it that way because you just wanted to argue semantics with me.

and thats the bigger thing than whether it was about rxgelord, myers, whatever. the reason i left the server and the reason i decided i didnt want anything to do with you was because you went out of your way to nitpick and argue about semantics with me, sometimes for over an hour. with rxgelord? okay, whatever. idc. that guy was deeply unserious anyway. myers? that one was just bad faith because everyone knows we were being facetious and silly with the whole "cheating with himself" thing-- the point was that he had done shit like making alt accounts to date himself when he had actual partners because he was someone who frequently and grossly misused peoples trust, we were just wording it in kind of a jokey way because i did not think you needed that written out for you, and the third one, which wasnt about drama at all and is the ACTUAL reason i left

the third one had to do with me expressing that something in the server had blown up very quickly and gone very fast and was a bit hard to keep up with. i asked maybe we have a log channel and be a bit better about plotting because both myself and others had to deal with unintended consequences on our characters we werent prepared for regardless of how much we participated.

ire then proceeded to spend an hour with me arguing about if it "even actually counted because it was in text format" and saying they "didnt understand discord rp" despite having run servers in the past. this went on for an hour. i was polite, because at no point was ire ever actually bringing up a point that was contrary to my own-- ire was just trying to nitpick what i was saying and went out of their way to call my feelings unimportant, amongst other things. after the rxgelord and myers things, i realized that ire was very dedicated to misunderstanding me at every junction, was intentionally trying to put down how i felt in any given situation regardless of severity, and very much wasting my time. im not stupid. i decided it wasnt worth trying to stick it out and tolerating something that was going to be triggering for me (im in an intensive trauma therapy program right now and being demeaned and nipped at is not going to help when i already spend so much of my week in an episode or the aftermath thereof, and i know i can have a temper problem!), so i left, because unlike ire i felt no need to be hostile to people in the server regardless of how i felt about them. and then ire decided to be a massive dickhole to a bunch of my friends, so now we're here.

kind of weird the focus is on me and how abrasive i am when so much of their shit was about lys, but whatever. shrrrrrrugs. and again, i have the screenshots of our spats in the server but it reallllly doesnt matter? because thats what this is? petty spats? why am i catching this splatter again

anyway, calling me a crazy tweaker and an edgelord for being mad at [looks at notes] the man who gave me a seizure and lied and gaslit me for two years is kinda wild. arent you a dabi roleplayer? you love this shit. put me on your blog, i can send you pics for your graphics and everything.

anyways, back to your regularly scheduled tweaking out. love you all.

[gemstone-gynoid]

used to think essays were terrible. all through elementary to middle school. but in high school i realized i was great at writing. i can let a stream of thoughts easily down onto paper or on a keyboard and it will at least be okay.

One of my tactics is to kinda just close my eyes as i type. i'm skilled in touch typing anyways so i can look away while typing. and closing my eyes means i dont need to visually see the writing and have to feel awkward about what i'm writing. I typed this whole paragraph with eyes closed. The paralysis of seeing a blank screen of course goes away if I can't see the blank screen.

Another technique is extrapolated from rules. usually it would be something like 12 point font, double spaced, page number requirements. sometimes i will type the essay in tiny font, single spaced. so as i type, paragraphs continue to seem small, and im still under the page requirements. when i'm done bullshitting as much as i can i'll return the text to the requirements, expanding the document to maybe more than needed.

And i usually underestimate myself. but even my bullshitting is finely stated. in recent writing online classes part of it is submitting a response to a task, then giving a response to another person's response. half the classmates give well done responses, the other half seem to never have typed before. so i can feel encouraged that my writing is at least average.

[fictionfixations]

Hanya: Could it be that the signal from the Shackling Prison is still blocked? Hmm... they proposed maintenance last year, but it's been delayed in the approval process...

i sure hope thats changed now (2.4-2.5 go brr)

OH MY GOD thats a huge wall of text. i was just clicking to speed up the texts and i just get hit with walls upon walls of texts and then it kept going and im like OKAY HOLD ON I CANT READ THAT FAST and trying to speed it up so i can scroll back and read it and theN BRRRR like holy fuck 😭

anyway context: hanya wrote this for her sister (who likes thriller novels). apparently its her first attempt. its called Seawater

Hanya: Judges have forever grappled with the burden of excruciating decisions. Among them, few weigh on their conscience as heavily as the relentless pursuit of the betrayer. Motivated by greed, disdain, or the intoxication of danger, comrades can swiftly transform into enemies. And when the moment arrives to dispense justice upon a former ally in the name of the revered Ten Lords, the torment becomes unbearable. The place I now journey towards bears witness to a heart-rending spectacle. Long ago, I meticulously constructed a trap to ensnare the perpetrator who conspired with the Denizens of Abundance. This elusive criminal, known only as "Seawater," peddled invaluable secrets, unraveling the intricate tapestry of the Alliance within the Ryansnaut Sector. Engaged in an unyielding battle with "Seawater" for an extended duration, I now find myself poised to tighten the noose. As I hasten towards the scene, a vivid tableau unfolds within my mind. A greenhorn Cloud Knight, a spirited street performer, a guileless foxian girl, and one enigmatic Nameless... Which among them could be "Seawater"? And when the truth is ultimately unveiled, how shall I confront the inevitable, merciless denouement...? Without warning, an arrow, launched from the shadows, pierces my heart. I collapse to the ground, I find my gaze locked onto the countenance of the assailant... Trailblazer: Wait, hold on a sec! Are you seriously planning to send me the entire novel through text messages!? Hanya: Sorry. I'm not done yet. "Seawater... It is you!" It ends here. That's all I've managed to write so far. I'm a bit stuck and need some advice.

im so sorry if there are any typos or if i typed the wrong word but thats a lot of text 😭 i usually write the texts together but separating it for each text sent. i dont know if that makes sense, but since she was sending a novel i thought itd be a better idea to actually put space in between the paragraphs so its not just all clumped together in a difficult to read block of text (also its a personal thing because i for the life of me i struggle so bad keeping track of where i am reading SUPER long blocks of text cause i keep accidentally losing my place or reading the wrong sentence in combination with another)

anyways

the reason we are suspects is because xueyi told her its easier to write characters based on familiar faces

Hanya: My sister mentioned that it's easier to write a novel when the characters are based on familiar faces. I've been thinking about it. Maybe it's because you guys are always too kind for me to imagine you doing anything evil. No wonder I'm stuck now. Perhaps I should draw inspiration from the criminals I usually deal with.

also she hasnt decided on who seawater (the criminal) should be

[jekacatrina]

hi i was re reading here here (again, for abt the bazillion time) and now im losing it jeka what have you done i was on a high from all the encouragement from shouto all might and literally everyone, and and the confession happened AND IM NOT OKAY you did not pull your punches with that scene cause when THAT happened, i felt like someone bitch slapped ME like wtf WHY im so unwell, im shaking hold me still pls, like i need to go on a walk to calm myself its not that serious BUT IT IS, WDYM, IM NOT MAD AT DEKU BUT BB WHAT DID YOU DO(TBF I WOULD BE THE SAME IF NOT WORSE, IF I WERE IN HIS PLACE BUT WHAT) have i told you just how much i loved your writing because fr, the wittiness and charisma of the characters, the brilliant action scenes, the tenderness, the love istg, the way you write katsuki, no joke, i was swooning over him during the interview part (and many other scenes but cant out myself too much ykwim ajjajaj) you just never miss jeka, your writing will Always have me in a chokehold hope all's well with you <33 sorry i just Had to come scream-text to you, like i just couldn't not do it

Oh my God, Rebe! Stop! You're so kind!

It's so mind-blowing to me whenever someone tells me not only that they read my work, but that they reread it?! Constantly?! Like??? WHAT??!

Funny story about the confession scene: I finished writing that chapter on a sunday night, and I sent it to one of my best friends. She said it was amazing, but she had a suggestion: She felt like there was something missing between Bakugou's confession and Midoriya's reaction. I've always been good with suggestions, as long as they come from someone I respect, so I took a look at the scene and wrote this two paragraphs in a frenzy:

"They had known each other for as long as he remembered. Katsuki was familiarized with how Deku looked when he was happy, excited, sad, angry, nervous or scared. So many years of watching those beloved eyes had made him capable of reading them like a book. He could see how his brain was going crazy trying to process the grenade Katsuki had dropped between them.

Katsuki could hear the music back in the party and the distant sound of chattering and laughter from the rest. Still, Deku and he were trapped in their own world, both frozen in a moment that stretched more and more with each second in total silence, trying to piece themselves back together after the blast of his confession had created an abyss between them."

I sent it back to her almost immediately, with a "How about now? Does it flow better?!" And she went: "Why would you hurt me this way?! I was expecting a line or something! Not this!"

It's one of my proudest moments akdjakdns

I will forever love Here Here, and I'm so happy it can bring as much joy to others as it brings me.

Thank you for your words, Rebe, this made my entire year 💚🤎

[the-trans-folk-witch]

A not so kind rebuttal to my interview with Dazed Beauty Magazine. Trans witches were wronged.

First, some quotes from friends, and strangers turned friends on the matter:

“PLEASE!!! Florence! I think everyone needs to read something of substance around this. The banal saturation is fucking mind numbing.”- Samanthareadsgood

“Think about yourself and don’t be worrying about hurting other people feelings because she’s not considering you… And look at it coldly…She interviewed you for something which you consented to and then she did something else. That’s not okay.” -René ( victim Former friend of the author Isabella AKA sister_bella on Instagram.)

And last but not least, “IM SCREAMING. STOP 4RrEAL!?” Austin of banexbramble on Instagram. Typos intentional and copied.

The article in question- (I hate to give it traffic but context…) https://www.dazeddigital.com/beauty/article/59809/1/why-trans-people-are-finding-power-and-place-in-witchcraft

The story-

Awhile back I was randomly messaged by an Instagram page run by a writer for dazed beauty. She expressed that she was writing an article on transgender witches and wanted to interview me. But it needed to be done that night. I did not see the message until a few days later. It seemed sketchy but as a fan of the magazine I took the bait. The woman seemed nice enough and I enjoyed the idea of transness being represented in witchcraft conversations. She had her due date extended.

She asked several questions which I thought were very well crafted. I formulated my replies to her via text and spent a total of two hours chatting with her on the subject. There were paragraphs of content to write on. I was very proud of my work. I was ready to discuss the history of trans people as learned in college through my gender studies courses. I wanted to discuss the GallI of Greece, the Gala of Sumer, the two spirit and other indigenous titles for third/alt genders- my fav being the Hijra of India. I wanted to discuss the transness of the Ethiopian eunuch in the Bible… not Joan of arc… I didn’t mention her. But none of that was of interest clearly. The History was too in-depth to write on for this magazine probably. Word counts and all…

I was lead to believe that this informal and rushed interview was going to be in a interview-to-text- format. I assumed it would be stylized with a question from the writer in bold, and a long winded response from me below it. Like how celebrities are interviewed haha. But girl was I wrong…

Not only was the entirety of the article kept from me post interview, but only one small paragraph was shown to me from our entire conversation. I assumed there was more… there was not. My time and words wasted for a misquote. One sentence of mine made it to the article. And it was not even worded properly. it’s context was stripped. I was explaining how in traditional witchcraft, witches are seen as “other”. Not in a other-kin way, but in a transformative way via gnosis. I went on to describe my feelings of dysphoria and it’s overlap with my spiritual beliefs. But all she heard was “Florence thinks being trans is inhuman and I’m going to word this in a sloppy way to validate TERF’s and their dehumanization of tranniez.”…

On top of this money grabbing terf ridden article, there were loads of TERFy comments making fun of the lack of sources, proper historical legitimacy, and me.

To make matters worse better, i was not tagged in the article advertisement on Instagram. This both angered me and relieved me. My name was not caught up in this shit. But my time was not being recognized. Instead, the more famous, more appreciated interviewed were highlighted. And there is no telling if their logic was sound. I was not aware of their interviews. Judging from their Instagram content, I’m sure they are less informed on true magic or history… if you read this article, I’m sure you saw the portion comparing Joan of arc to trans men. I would like to say the writer of the article completely fabricated that herself. But who knows what other shit people are spewing.

When I heard of this article, I thought a cis woman was highlighting the experiences of trans people by giving us a platform. This is something I gladly allow! But instead, she was taking the crumbs of our words and using them for woke points and click bait. It was a poorly formed article with no real point. It was a mishmash of words speaking loosely of an issue that is already difficult to describe. It allowed space for terf’s and non witches alike to give their shitty opinions. And the writer??? Nowhere to be seen. Dazed beauty? No reply or combat against the ever-flowing comments. It’s as if this entire article was a ruse to make us all look stupid.

So now that I’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about the author and her personal life. When she approached me she seemed nice. I genuinely thought I had a shot at maybe being represented in a magazine I like. She was willing to offer me that. But little did I know, she had sketchy occult business practices of her own. This woman has titled herself a “priestess, sorceress, spell caster” and other trigger words to make her look powerful. Other than aesthetics, she has no real grab on a magical tradition. I was informed of her moving to Mexico and hosting “full moon rituals” of some ambiguous type. At these rituals she was charging people 300 MXN twice a month on full and dark moons with no explanation of what would take place there. People were somewhat pressured into discussing sexual trauma, and others believed it was a safe space to share things. However, it was cult-like psychology at play. There was no real therapy practices implemented. It was just an unqualified woman just crying to strangers and making them pay her since it was cheaper than real therapy. It was not sound. It was not ethical.

People tried leaving. To which she would send many many messages to those people as if they were friends. She was trying to make people feel guilty for not coming to her “rituals” that cost money. It was treated as betrayal to her…

Anyway, all of that mess aside, let’s show some actual sources to discuss the history of Trans people. I have said this many times before and I hope I don’t sound like a brag, but I have 2 degrees in sociology at escalating levels. I actually am hoping to write a text book in collaboration with my university next year on similar subjects. Here are some texts I read in my gender studies classes and plan to cite in future works. Please please consider these texts. I do not want to waste my time explaining what’s already been beautifully written by others. Especially for FREE on TUMBLR.

-Histories of the Transgender Child by Jules Gill-Peterson

-Sexing the body: Gender politics and the construction of sexuality by Dr. Anne Fausto-Sterling

-Brain Storm: The Flaws in the Science of Sex Differences. By Dr. Rebecca Jordan-Young

-Measuring Manhood: Race and the Science of Masculinity by Dr. Melissa N. Stein

-Sexual Science: The Victorian Construction of Womanhood by Dr. Cynthia Russet.

As for trans people’s place in occult spaces or religion, I highly recommend reading the following links and titles. [It’s also important to note here that the Joan of arc mess in the original article, could have been replaced with the Ethiopian eunuch of the Bible… “but no. Cis girl brain go brrrrr. Must pick popular feminist figure and make up a history”]

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6830999

The Soul of the Stranger: Reading God and Torah from a Transgender Perspective. Chicago, Illinois: The University of Chicago Press.

A Comparative Analysis of Hijras and Drag Queens: The Subversive Possibilities and Limits of Parading Effeminacy and Negotiating Masculinity." Ed. Stephen Hunt, Religions of the East. Surrey: Ashgate, 2010.

The Invisibles: A Tale of the Eunuchs of India.

Islamic Homosexualities: Culture, History, and Literature (for Sumerian trans priests)

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gala_(priests)#:~:text=The%20Gala%20(Sumerian%3A%20%F0%92%8D%91%F0%92%86%AA%20gala,institutions%20of%20Mesopotamian%20city%20states.

Thank you. That is all.

[prpfz]

🍄 Heyy! I’m looking for any 18+ people interested in a fandomless RP on discord! For pairings I’m looking for FxM and FxF, and I have a few ideas as to how we can go about it, but im also more than happy to brainstorm once we get talking!

1: Our characters are students at an all-magical school, we can cover different periods of time from when they started, sometime in the middle to a graduation and beyond. (For this particular idea, 🍪 would be okay or they could simply be aged up)

2: Our characters are childhood bestfriends and at some point banded together to form a sort of “Mystery Gang”, they go around their odd and eerie town to try and prove to the other locals that things aren’t as they seem.

3: Our characters are Aliens, they’ve adorned human-like appearances and have gone rogue from their mission, they try to fit into society and maybe some succeed and some don’t.

4. Zombie Apocalypse, pretty self explanatory. We could do a few different ways for the outbreak and whether or not our characters knew each other beforehand.

Ideally I’d like to find a writing partner that is comfortable utilizing multiple characters, as I want these ideas to not be limited to just two. Personally I like to portray both female and male charas and would have an equal balance of each. All themes are okay with me and will depend on the plot idea we go for, and for smut I do not mind teasing it within writing but will ultimately want to fade to black.

Writing will be done in third person past tense and there will be a minimum of three paragraphs per reply, I can happily accommodate more and my starters tend to be on the lengthier side. If we go for a more modern approach with the server, I’d like to include text channels for characters that aren’t involved in an ongoing thread. FCs can be celebrities or purely written description, I do have a few in mind but they are not dealbreakers!

If this interests you, please interact and I’ll reach out and ask a few questions!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[lunarkittenn]

Im writing this for me. I need to write to let out how I feel. And I’m just really sad. My dad has ALS, he probably won’t even be here next year. There’s nothing I can do. It has sucked the life out of every inch of me, I’m so depressed my soul aches. Right before my dad’s symptoms hit a downhill, I had started talking to a boy I was really excited about. Had a big crush on him and was so thrilled he liked me, too. We started dating, and the first thing I noticed is that he was bad at communication. Arguing with him was tedious, almost impossible because he would get really mad and shut down. Never aggressive like my last boyfriend, but just so stubborn and defensive and rude. On my hardest days, he would take it very personally when I wasn’t super talkative or upbeat. My dad fell at the bowling alley one night and I was absolutely devastated. It’s traumatic to watch, that’s the only way to describe it. My boyfriend didn’t say a word to me, went home and still didn’t say a word to me. When I got upset about it he first said he didn’t want to intrude on my family, and then a little later into the argument said I wasn’t talking to him so what did I care. A couple weeks ago I saw on my dads online health account that it predicted 9 month survival at 80-90%. 9 months. 9 months with my dad. I can feel my fucking heart throb in my chest typing this right now. It’s the kind of fucking sobbing that rocks my whole body. So needless to say, I was pretty quiet that day. I’m having a hard time processing it. My boyfriend got upset with me because I was “ignoring him” “didn’t talk to him all day” which I had been, I was just being quiet, and I even explained I was having a hard day. I mean he should know. He would stay over every weekend. He saw my dad. He could hear how hard it is for my dad to talk. After every fight, he would tell me he was sorry he always takes it to 100, and that he was happy I put up with him and try to work things out and don’t give up. This past week he made a comment that made me uncomfortable. I had pointed it out, he got really defensive. Told me I assume whatever I want, I read things wrong, take it how I want to no matter “what he says” etc. he says those things every fight to me. I tell him okay, we’re arguing, why don’t we talk later. I am not perfect, in the past I would tell him to just leave my house and I was done talking- so I wanted to work on this. I told him exactly “we are just arguing and it’s not productive. Why don’t we talk after you get out of work, okay? Later, just not right now”. He said “bye, dead serious”. I asked what he meant, but he never texted back after work. I noticed he removed our Facebook relationship status. I was very upset and texted him saying I was done with the bullshit. For the next two days, it felt insane because the fight had branched so much I felt weird even trying to say why I was originally upset. Everything I said he told me I’m going to think whatever I want anyway. I wake up at 6:30 am to go to my dads ALS appointment on Wednesday. doctor tells us my dads breathing intake is at 48%. Not good, obviously. My boyfriend? Texts me a paragraph of rude things, including that I’m controlling because I wanted him to “say sorry in a specific way”. He was referring to me saying, all I was trying to do was say “hey I know you didn’t mean this in a bad way and didn’t know. But this made me uncomfortable” and all I expected was a “hey I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that” if that’s what he meant. Instead he told me I read it wrong. That I take things the wrong way and think so low of him. Bad day. I have a lot of those lately.

Yesterday morning I woke up to him really angry that I removed him from Snapchat and Facebook- but he had ??? Removed our status? He kept saying rude shit and not trying to actually talk with me. He said I must be ready to move on nice and quick if I removed him so fast. I pointed out he removed our status and he said “I just did that to make you mad”. Lol. After more hours of arguing- literally. I finally said “you’d think if you wanted to fix this like you say you do you’d call me or actually answer when I call you instead of texting. We can apologize and move on” he tells me he’s “good on all that. You said what you wanted to say and I’m not cool with it. You never wanted to be with me anyway” which the last part he would always say to me in fights and I do not know why. But yeah anyway I said okay whatever have a good one. We haven’t talked since then. Maybe he met some girl and that’s why he doesn’t care? Maybe his ego and immaturity just really will never let him see how fucking horrid he was treating me. Idk. But it hurts.

Out of all the things, I am just disappointed. I’m disappointed in how many failed relationships. I’m tired of putting myself out there for people, constantly trying to mold into a better person just people to not do the same for me. I’m tired of selfishness. I’m tired of life, honestly. I don’t want my dad to die. He won’t be at my wedding if I have one. He won’t meet kids if I have any. He won’t be here, waiting for a big hug. He can’t make witty jokes. He won’t be able to bowl with my brother, mom, and I. He won’t be here to ask me for double cheeseburgers. He won’t be here to give me a big hug and tell me he loves me. My heart is so broken. I feel so so so broken.

And the boyfriend who I was so excited for, couldn’t take two seconds to realize how much I was going through, and try to be easy with me. To try and improve how he acted. To try and care about me like he so claimed. Or maybe to just not do things purposely to make me angry, knowing how much I rightfully am angry about already.

Hug your loved ones. And if you think your life is fucking miserable, for me try and take a breath, and count the things you are happy for. I used to think life was miserable, now my favorite person on this planet is sick with someone that kills you quickly, traumatically, and with no remorse. And god, is that a pain I have never felt so deeply, and widespread.

[misty-missdee]

(Some of the names in this story have been altered. Viewer discretion advised.)

Okay, it's storytime. Cause this shit still baffles me to no end so I gotta write about it.

At my job I met these two women who I now affectionately refer to as "my two goth moms" and they're great! They've been super duper sweet to me, and have done a lot of cool things to help me exist.

One of them, we'll call her Viper, is this 41-42 year old super duper og goth. Sometimes wearing trip pants to work in our business casual office type lady. She's very cool and nice, but sometimes people misundstand her, because she has a loud voice and an aesthetic. Viper has a girlfriend who we will call Tiffany.

When I met Viper, Tiffany did not work in our office, but I had met her a couple times when they took me out as a baby trans who had no idea what she was doing. Which was nice!

Tiffany is a early 30s individual who had some dire shit happen to her when she was in the army. Like, more than one dire thing which we needn't get into but I feel it's relevant.

I had quit my job briefly whilst I was tryna discover the meaning of life, but eventually came back and now Tiffany was also working there. Which was fine for a time, but It meant I was spending more time around Tiffany who started to have a lot of struggles at work. The more time I spent in her proxy the more my vibe reading sensor in my brain was like "hey uh, something is off with this individual."

Long story short with that she had to take loa, and then quit. I would still hang out with the two of them outside of work, because im tryna be a friend and have friends on occasion. However, "The vibe is still kinda off..".

Just a few things that made me like, idk about this person. She was also starting to text me paragraphs upon paragraphs. I guess she just did this to people, but I didn't really love it, because it reminded of my my Mother who had a tendency to smother me. Im also just not tryna read a ton of words all the time. So I didn't always respond to these excerpts from her self help novel she was texting me (thats a joke). I don't like to be coddled.

One day she sent one about some unsubstantial interaction we had where she got referred to as a mother too, since shes dating my goth mom Viper. Tiffany asking me not to do that is fine, but then equated it to my transness and my "request to be called a woman" as she put it. Which I understand now wasn't how she meant it, but I was rubbed the wrong way. It was infuriating read when I'm having some pretty intense identity issues at that time, so I'm really not tryna engage with any of this anymore. (It's also not a "request" motherfucker).

I had responded to that particular longasstextmessage with "certainly" to Tiffany's request to not calling her mommy(not even as a joke im supr srs). I'm sure "certainly" can be read as a bit annoyed. Which hey! You'd be right.

She responded with a one to two word response which honestly had me shook. Then several minutes later an overcorrction paragraph or two.

I try to distance myself at this point, because Tiffany is now actively making MY ANXIETY WORSE. some weeks pass, and I'm cooking in my kitchen when I get a message. All I see at that exact time is the preview of the message and I read "from Tiffany: I'm attracted to you...". I can't help but laugh, because like again, we were no more than acquaintances miss.. you can't honestly be this down bad over me that youre saying IM IN YOUR DREAMS AT NIGHT DISTRACTING YOU ALL THE TIME. I'm also really not trying to wreck my adoptive mother's home!!! AAAAAA!!!

So I wrecked my adoptive mother's home(sorta). Viper and Tiffany ended up breaking up, because Tiffany was becoming increasingly delusional about many things in her life. The final straw was Tiffany refusing to go to therapy, and not fully anything to do with me (thank goodness).

Thankfully where we find ourselves now in relation to this story Tiffany is in therapy. Viper and I are still good friends. Viper and Tiffany are still decent friends though they're not living together, or really an item.

Tiffany also... bought me some Christmas presents I didn't accept during the holidays, because all of this was ongoing. It wasnt until March where i accepted them from Viper. Tiffany bought me a really expensive bong, which I guess is a nice gesture for everything that happened, but gosh.. it still felt like a crazy gift from someone whose energies were so off, and we weren't even that close. Its a real nice bong at least.

So, Thats my story about how I was too nearby this one person and she fell madly in love with me somehow, ruined her own relationship, and I got a nice, new bong.

[k1ll3r-k4rg0]

no minorrrss please, 18+ coz thats in my BLOG RULES thank youu

Okay here's a huge essay on why five nights at freddy's is very successful and works for me / has become popular. big inconsistent text dump to my friend in discord that i figured i should post. and ive already done so many essays so i dont want to clean this up coz im tired and my head hurts but im SO FUCKING INVESTED in fnaf right now. ok. the autism

many paragraph thoughts under the cut

Anyways. It’s obvious to me how FNAF was successful as a thing because A. it was VERY new when it came out and that was already working its favor. but why did THAT keep going to like 6 or 7 and counting games?? it’s coz B. the writing is??? good??? it balances horror and humor VERY well which is extremely important to make horror Approachable and accessible to a lot of people.

balancing horror and humor like that makes it so the game is not 24/7 stress, showing that it knows how to pace itself really well. i think the pacing is really well done in fnaf. to me, even tho the lore is mid because i like it better simpler, the way the lore ties in together across all of the games up until the pizzeria simulator AND keeps the vibes across all games AND tries new things with each game (some more successful than others) i think works VERY well in fnafs favor

like it was very well paced and very well tied together even though shit was made up as you go. ie scott (the creator) pulled that lore out of his ass. he only had the basic base level storyline there, but later iterations of it were added on later

unlike, for example, homestuck which is the same type of thing (made up as you go) but too much and too overwhelming. homestuck is its own big thing that like. changed a lot and was really groundbreaking for being new, but it went off the deep end and tried to be Too much. which honestly i think is similar with fnaf.

HOWEVER. even in security breach where it’s too much at once and just falls apart coz it was TOO ambitious, that story and that pacing is still??? there?? and the humor and the general tone of the whole thing is EXTREMELY consistent throughout the whole series and that’s really what makes it effective for me and why im still invested in this even like six games later

like the vibes stay the same. they dont really stray TOO much. and i think its great how Scott (the creator) tried different things in each game and each game is some iteration of the previous. some work better than others. but the tone is consistent (the humor and horror balance and pace out very well), and the vibes are consistent (the aesthetic remains similar throughout), and the pacing and the way the story and lore is hidden throughout everything is consistent. and i think because of that because it STICKS TRUE TO ITSELF it’s remained an extremely popular and successful franchise like i said. even in security breach. which is a complete wreck of a project. the lore and shit is still consistent in there (you just have a WAY harder time getting to it because everything else wasn’t optimized), and the pacing is consistent

and like i think also even when the story is done and finished. and it’s like oh just let the franchise die. let it be over. the games still remain successful to me coz of the consistency. you could’ve ended the story there, yes, but you didn’t, you kept adding lore. however you added lore in such a way that was consistent to the way lore was added in the beginning, and you kept your tone and your vibes and your pacing consistent, so any new lore even though pulled out of one’s ass / thin air still fits in completely with the franchise, unlike the way homestuck did it with the epilogues.

ok theyre also just really funny to me. theres this sorta dark humor in there and corporate failure shit going on thats just funny to me actually. i havent really found things this funny in like. a long time in media fr

[husbandhoshi]

ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLRIGHTY.......it is time....we cheered! i am so ready to tuck into this like a delicious meal <3 liveblogging under the cut :')

You’re sitting in the bathroom, staring at the uneven paint where the tiles meet the wall, wondering if you could ever manage to crawl into one of the cracks there and disappear forever....It’s hard to focus on one thing when it feels like the whole world is happening at once without you in it.

see i feel like we have already started off so strong. i feel like whenever /i/ write long introspective sections it feels like it drags but this is so perfect. i had to do the ole english essay ellipses to cut the passage but the whole stretch was so evocative without being lengthy.

The hot tears suddenly feel ice cold against your burning skin, and exhaustion crashes down on you. The sink is dripping again.

You’ll have to get it fixed.

Everything.

this is so real. i think it's so hard to write like. Mental Illness tm or at least like. raw moments and make it seem Not Corny slash stereotypical but this is perfect.

Vernon knows your coffee and takeout orders by heart, and you do his. Even if he’s a worse texter than talker, you still very much enjoy his company, and mostly the ability to exist together in comfortable silence.

this and the paragraphs before this are i think the perfect characterization of vernon. spot on. esp the hum in response like truly my man is Not nosy whatsoever.

He could see even during class how out of it you were, certainly he could, but he didn’t want to bring up something you were not comfortable sharing on your own. So all he did was slide a lone earphone over, and put on a playlist he made for you. Of course, he would never tell you that - or anyone for that matter.

okay see like sometimes POV switches are corny and gratuitous but i feel like this was so smoothly done and provides a bit of extra characterization to help inform the rest of the fic. i think it's also really interesting to see how different vernon's thoughts and actions are versus yn's...where yn wears their emotions on their sleeve and vernon is kind of a mask. like it's an interesting dichotomy.

You are his first love, even if he would never admit it to anyone, not even himself.

nothing to say here i was just gagged. i also said THREE YEARS? out loud. oh my god we are really in this.

That night you fall asleep wondering what it’d be like to hold Vernon’s hands on a 2am walk. You dream about your kitchen window being gone.

the prose here is so yummy. the cadence of this paragraph especially. Yes...

He helps the girl lay down, and she mumbles something similar to a “don’t go, you’re so cute”, which Vernon decides to ignore, and turns her on her side instead - just in case she gets sick.

BASED and woke public health king

You find yourself spending more and more nights in the kitchen, the quiet hum of the fridge and lone passersby keeping you company as you watch the world go by. It was peaceful in a terrible way, one which you were sure was no good for you.

OK IM SEEING THE THEMES.... i also love how you write little snippets of everyday life and make them seem so romantic..so lived in and wonderful even tho they're just typical things. you know.

not gnna paste in the text messages but just know that vernon using punctuation??? Something is Cooking. also him taking the initiative to ask yn to build a snowman is really sweet knowing that he is typically not the type to initiate things.

You move your gaze towards him, and suddenly his face is way too close...You swallow nervously and your eyes flicker to his lips.

this passage made me bite my fist..the way u so easily transition from the introspective moments to dialogue to fluff...... also didn't want to grab the ENTIRE convenience store section but i love how the midnight connections tm have become a staple of your fic. i think it's a perfect little bite of the liminal in-between moments. the things people want to say and can't. things you think will be forgotten by the morning. you know. also loving how reserved vernon is w his friends and then him lighting up when he's w yn it rlly is so sweet to see :( and the added detail that he is tired as shit but will still make time for them.

Once you say your goodbyes you slowly make your way home, walking past the half finished snowman.

yn is so earnest and that's one of my favorite things abt them. like this is such a cute gesture. esp because like they weren't that eager to leave the house in the first place but the sheer Wonderfulness of the moment drives them to be a little whimsical when that would have been so out of character for them earlier...character development.

He dreams about the feeling of your lips on his.

ok the callback to the dreams...honestly like its the perfect throwback to the earlier part but also adds sooo much to the thematic/atmospheric cohesion here. also i screamed

Being alone feels suffocating, even though you’re the one who turned Vernon down once again. It’s been weird seeing him around at school, only being able to think about how pretty he looks under cheap neon lights. He doesn’t make much of an effort to reach out either.

this is actually so real. i'm learning a lot from the way u write fic and i think this part is so simply but well said. like what characters do dont HAVE to make sense. sometimes feelings are complicated and we do things we dont want to do and say things we dont want to say etc etc.

“I’m getting kind of hungry,” she pouts at him, and he feels like this is his chance to get out.

“I know just the place.”

WELCOME HOME CHEATER also im not grabbing anything from this next section bc it would be too long but like.. oh nawurrr.... not them connecting and then disconnecting and then falling into other people.... also re: the POV shift thing i actually think it has become such a wonderful little utility here. like i see the vision now. yes this is ab yn but it's also about VERNON and his emotional constipation and his self sabotage. and how HE weathers the seasons. THE MISSED CALL AND TEXT MESSAGE???? killing myself and then killing myself again............ OK SHONDA RHIMES..

You still dream about draping your scarf around Vernon, late night grocery runs, a kitchen window that’s brighter and doesn’t make you feel like the shell of who you used to be.

nothing to say here except chefs kiss of a sentence. the window callback is another chefs kiss and i think the motif is so fitting bc in a way they both feel like outsiders looking in....starting to see why this is called parallels and almosts ... (sorry i am slow.)

“How’s Seohyun?” You take a step back, and Vernon visibly gulps. Somehow he just knows that you’ve been talking to Seungkwan.

um i gasped aloud........... season finale type beat. also like i'm no vernon shooter but yn getting mad at vernon when they Also were Talking to seungkwan OK emoji .

Vernon feels like a stranger and your dearest friend at the same time. Sometimes when you look at him too much you go back to the night where things still felt okay and you wonder if he ever thinks about it - about how badly you wanted to hold his hands, kiss him still lying in the snow.

this makes my tummy hurt because i think you encapsulated the feeling of time passing so well. like its only been 10k words but i feel like there is actual history there even tho there was only one scene where they really bonded... you know. like their past feels so storied to me.

“Maybe.”

“Oh you’re one to talk, like you’d ever tell me any of it!”

see like i think this is such a masterful way of tying it together.. like yeah. they both SUCKED at communication. PARALLELS AND ALMOSTS.

nothing to say ab the next section (Maybe you've already fallen hard...You wake up crying at 2 AM) except that i think it's one of my fave sections of Prose in this.

Almost on instinct you lean your head on Vernon’s shoulder, and you feel his arm circling your waist and squeezing gently, his head coming to rest on top of yours.

literally my eyes opened so wide. we Going situationship?????????????? i think the dream thing that you have going on is especially potent here bc it really feels like we Have vernon and then we don't. and then it repeats.

“There’s gonna be a party tonight,” he turns to you suddenly. “I want you to come.”

FULL CIRCLE...fly hands....

OK the ending. OMG. the kiss scene was sweet and not corny. and the way you transformed the space when vernon moves in... like the idea of Home and Space and feeling Trapped the whole fic has i think is so lovely. i think there is a very tactile way you described things here and so it feels lived in and natural. like you dont have to SAY how yn is feeling as explicitly because you can SEE it in the way the space changes around them. and then the callback at the end is really sweet :')

overall i think this was such an enjoyable read!! you continue to be the master of atmospheric fic. like it really sucks you in and i think you describe yn so fully that it's hard to not empathize w them even if you don't really relate to the things happening in their life. and i think there is such a simplicity to the setting and the plot points that you can really Sit in the feelings that the characters are feeling. i think the next strongest bit of this was the parallels theme!! i loved seeing how the sections echoed each other and how the imagery/environments reflected the progression of the characters and plot.

tldr i loved it and i will never Not sing your praises as a writer!!!

parallels & almosts

♡ pairing: vernon x reader

♡ genre: friends to lovers, light angst

♡ word count: 10k

♡ warnings: slight description of panic attacks, alcohol consumption, slow burn-ish lol, occasional cursing, a little sad bc i wrote it in winter, yearning

a/n: i wrote this last christmas inspired by my first sem at uni, and finally got around to proofreading :) hope you like it, and if you have any thoughts about it id love to know &lt;3

masterlist

♡ ♡ ♡

One day you’ll inevitably fall for someone. Someone, who will touch you for the first time like no one ever did before, and maybe no one ever will again. Full of love, admiration, and tenderness. Your chest is going to fill with pain and unending yearning, a fleeting moment that’s going to feel like nothing and everything whenever you think about it. And you’ll fall hard, hard enough that if any of it was real it might break your body in unspeakable ways.

When you wake up the next day you realise you’ll never love anyone as much as this, not in this lifetime.

Then it’s over.

You’re sitting in the bathroom, staring at the uneven paint where the tiles meet the wall, wondering if you could ever manage to crawl into one of the cracks there and disappear forever. No clichéd metaphor seems fitting enough, even though you understand you are not the first, and you won’t be the last either, to experience heartbreak quite like this. Something that squishes your heart until it feels numb, catches in your throat in a way that you can’t even find the words to explain the pain, a constant gloss over your eyes, like tears you can’t blink away.

Your upstairs neighbour is just a little too loud, the static of the tv humming just a little too much, drunk people screaming outside just a little too close, and it all feels so overbearing. You close your eyes, skin buzzing with all the loudness of the inside and outside combined. It’s hard to focus on one thing when it feels like the whole world is happening at once without you in it.

Then the phone rings.

The world stops, but your breathing quickens as panic takes over. It’s all so much in a way that seems impossible to deal with. At least for now, in this passing moment, even if it feels like an eternity. The ringing gets more and more deafening, your breaths quickening, and you know it won’t stop. It never really does. The cacophony of sounds slowly fades out, the only thing you can hear is your own body; your heartbeat, your own breaths, tired gasps for air. It’s okay. You claw at your skin, anything to distract yourself from the ongoing panic attack, even if you know it won’t help. It never does.

It’s okay.

Tears burn the corners of your eyes, even though you don’t know how long you’ve been crying. The world is slowly closing in, and it’s just you on the cold bathroom floor at 2am.

Is it okay?

It’s silent. So suddenly and so loudly, it almost knocks the air back into your lungs, as if the ground is being pulled from underneath your feet. The hot tears suddenly feel ice cold against your burning skin, and exhaustion crashes down on you. The sink is dripping again.

You’ll have to get it fixed.

Everything.

It’s a slow process to drag yourself from the bathroom to bed. The rain knocks politely on the window and you’re tempted to let it in, but instead just stare out into the cold night. The snow is slowly melting away, and you wish it washed away all the thoughts plaguing your mind too. It’s never that easy, you’ve always found it hard to let go of routines. The habit of waking up, turning over to give him a kiss, making coffee together. You don’t even like coffee that much, but for him you would’ve learned to love anything. For him, you even learned to love him. With all the pain and hurt. 

Despite him, you loved him.

It’s all gone, and it’s okay.

-

“You didn’t pick up all weekend,” Vernon says in his usual nonchalant tone without as much as looking in your direction.

After you finally managed to calm down, sleep seemed much more inviting than looking at your phone. The next few days felt so peaceful in isolation, that it wouldn’t have been right to disturb it.

“Sorry.”

He only hums in response, quietly scribbling away in his notebook next to you. His hair is hidden behind one of his many beanies, one earphone in his ear, the other one between the two of you on the desk as a silent offering from his part. It’s the middle of the lecture, but you wordlessly take it anyway, knowing well that you won’t pay attention today no matter what.

Vernon is hard to read, even if you’ve been friends for a few years now. He mostly keeps to himself, barely showing if something is going on in his life. He occasionally lets you in on the big things, like when his sister graduated high school, or when his family got a new cat. You weren’t completely sure if he shared these things with you out of common courtesy - you were glad when he did anyway. He was a little more curious and attentive when you told him about something, but never asked on his own.

Vernon knows your coffee and takeout orders by heart, and you do his. Even if he’s a worse texter than talker, you still very much enjoy his company, and mostly the ability to exist together in comfortable silence.

You get lost in thought, only coming back to reality when your favourite song quietly starts playing in your ear. Vernon is putting his phone back down, giving you a small smile before returning to the paper in front of him. His eyes twinkle in the cheap fluorescent light of the lecture hall, and even if the thought makes your chest feel tight, he does look beautiful even at 9am on a Monday.

He furrows his eyebrows, tapping his pen against the desk to the beat of the music. You rest your head on top of your barely started notes, glancing at Vernon from the corner of your eye before getting lost in thought for the rest of the lecture. You only notice that it’s over when the boy next to you is already leaving, gently tapping your shoulder and giving you a small wave  before walking off into the cold fog of the morning. The professor starts turning the lights off, and you scurry to gather your belongings, making your way to the exit. Suddenly you hear music in your ear once again, and you realise you forgot to give Vernon his earphones back.

However, music means he’s near, so you try and remember which way he went, and spot him a few benches over in front of the building. He’s standing in a lopsided circle with his friends, their laughter visible in the crisp air. You shuffle over to the group, standing a little awkwardly next to Vernon, who’s too invested in whatever conversation they’re having to notice your arrival. One of the boys spots you, and you give him a brief smile before deciding to finally tap Vernon’s shoulder. He quickly turns to you, the corners of his lips quirking up just enough for you to notice. You don’t want to overstay your welcome, so you quickly take the earphone and hand it back to him. His mouth turns into an O shape, and you can feel your cheeks warming up, so you look back down at your palm to avoid staring at his face even longer. He takes it from your hand, his cold fingers igniting fire in their wake. His eyes search for yours, and as soon as they meet you feel a little wobbly, a little warm, and a lot vulnerable.

You only decided on attending any classes you had that day to avoid sitting at home even longer, stewing in your own sadness and tears. When sitting in your bed that morning you felt as if you’d be okay, as if you’ll be able to get through all this without anyone knowing or noticing. As Vernon’s eyes bore into yours, you just knew that he could see everything. You were never sure how close he considered you, and you were always too scared to assume that you are close in the first place.

Your knees feel like they’re about to give out, so you shake your head a little, trying to hide the obvious blush on your cheeks behind your scarf. 

“There’s gonna be a party later tonight, if you uh- If you wanna come,” Vernon tells you.

“It’s Monday,” it almost comes out as a question, eliciting a laugh from the boy.

“I’ll text you the address later, in case you change your mind. I’ll be there.”

His smile always makes everything a little easier, so you nod and turn to leave. For a second he looks like he might say something else, a concerned look on his face, but he fades back into the conversation instead.

As soon as you’re out of earshot Vernon’s got multiple curious eyes on him, waiting for some sort of an explanation. They all know you to some degree of course, but they haven’t seen their friend like this in quite some time.

“Dude,” Seungkwan is the first one to voice his thoughts.

“What?”

“Did we miss something?'' His tone is enough to make Vernon’s eyes widen. “Just a heads up, I’m gonna keep an eye on you tonight. And I’m gonna be updating the group chat constantly, too.”

A round of laughter and general agreement follows Seungkwan’s statement, and though Vernon loves his friends, he has to admit that they can be too much sometimes. Even if he considers himself a private person, he does still keep them up to date most of the time, except at times like this. At times when not only his feelings are concerned.

He could see even during class how out of it you were, certainly he could, but he didn’t want to bring up something you were not comfortable sharing on your own. So all he did was slide a lone earphone over, and put on a playlist he made for you. Of course, he would never tell you that - or anyone for that matter. His feelings and his playlist were kept as his most treasured secrets, even if they’re only meaningful to him. He would be lying to himself if he tried to deny the crush he’s been nursing on you since you met in your first Monday morning class, sitting in the same spot as today. He immediately memorised your name during the quick introduction game the professor insisted on, making use of it as much as he could during class, and right after, too. Grabbing coffee seemed like the logical choice at the time, texting all his friends for recommendations as soon as he could. Once class was over he made his move, striking up conversation with you, albeit a little awkwardly. Surprisingly even to him, you agreed, and shortly after you found yourselves at a small café just off campus. The impromptu hangout felt almost too comfortable for it to be your first time meeting, and Vernon couldn’t think about the way you laughed at his terrible jokes without getting butterflies in his stomach, not even years later.

He later had to face the fact that you’re taken, and even if it broke his heart a little, he enjoyed your company a lot more than for something like this to keep him from you. So here you are, almost 3 years later, still looking at each other with the same unmistakable tenderness that only you two seem to ignore. Always smiling brighter, laughing louder, and whispering even more quietly when the other is around.

You are his first love, even if he would never admit it to anyone, not even himself.

- 

The dim orange street light illuminates the kitchen in a way that squeezes your soul just a little too tight, making you feel nostalgic for things that maybe never really happened. Snowflakes land on the window and melt away slowly, racing down the glass. Lately it only snows at night, so you decide to stay up late, the party Vernon invited you to long forgotten.

Tonight it’s a little different somehow. The air feels heavier than usual, and the streets are fully empty, which is an exceptionally rare sight this close to campus. You open the window, and climb up to sit on the sill, dangling your feet into the night. The crippling pressure on your chest doesn’t seem to cease, and you wish to be able to cry and scream, let it all out while it’s dark and quiet.

In the distance you spot a figure slowly treading through the snow, dressed in all black with their hands in their pockets. Their steps are completely silent except for the occasional crunch of the fresh snow. The knowledge that someone else is just this restless at the same time as you brings an odd sense of peace. Wordless company on such a lonely night.

For a fleeting moment you feel like everything’s going to be okay.

That night you fall asleep wondering what it’d be like to hold Vernon’s hands on a 2am walk. You dream about your kitchen window being gone.

-

Vernon waits for you patiently at the party that night, checking his phone way too often to make sure he doesn’t miss any of your calls or texts. A few drinks and too much teasing from his friends later he’s already getting ready to leave when some girl sidles up to him, giggling drunkenly right into his face. He remembers her from one of his classes, but not her name, and he doesn’t bother asking either.

“Heeey,” the girl chimes. “Are you uh- are you here uh- alone?” She stumbles a little, both with her words and her steps.

Vernon hesitates, but nods anyway.

“Really? So am I, that’s uh-” Vernon gets nervous that the girl might end up ruining his shoes. “That’s so cool. Wanna, do you wanna-”

She closes her eyes for a second and blindly reaches out for something to steady herself, so he grabs her arms on instinct.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re sooo cute, come with me, please?” She tries to pout at Vernon, but it comes out as almost every other emotion instead.

He shuffles through his choices mentally, deciding to make his way back into the living room with the girl clinging to him for dear life. The mind numbing music makes him wince a little, and he makes his way upstairs as fast as possible to get away from the hardcore party scene, not really in the mood for the smell of sweat and alcohol combined with the loudest room he could imagine in this moment. He manages to find an empty room on the third try, having seen a lot more naked people than he’s comfortable with in the span of the past few minutes.

He helps the girl lay down, and she mumbles something similar to a “don’t go, you’re so cute”, which Vernon decides to ignore, and turns her on her side instead - just in case she gets sick. He quickly makes his leave, and he can hear retching from the other side of the closed door as soon as he’s outside. It makes him wanna leave as soon as possible, so he does just that, bidding bye to some of his friends before vanishing into the dark. He’s never been so happy about silence before.

The night is tranquil, even his own footsteps barely audible as he makes his way home. When he hears rustling he looks around to find the source, finding someone climbing into the windowsill in a nearby building. He gets worried, immediately wondering if he should call someone, or maybe yell out to the stranger to stop, the 5th floor is a long way from the ground, it’s not worth it. He decides against it when he sees the stranger quietly settle down, but watches for a bit longer anyway before deciding to continue his journey. 

That night he falls asleep wondering if he should’ve texted you, if you’re even okay.

He dreams about the stranger falling from the window in slow motion, and wakes up in cold sweat before they could hit the ground.

-

You find yourself spending more and more nights in the kitchen, the quiet hum of the fridge and lone passersby keeping you company as you watch the world go by. It was peaceful in a terrible way, one which you were sure was no good for you. That window became your survival, even if it made your chest ache with the sights it presented occasionally. Some nights were different. Some nights your phone buzzed to life with a new text from Vernon, asking about your day or just trying to make conversation. With how unavailable you made yourself he suddenly became better at texting than talking. You had to admit that it always made you a little sad when you didn’t receive his almost routinely ‘hey :)’ just a little past midnight. You always started by scowling him for being up late again, to which he responded by telling you the same.

It’s around 1am when your phone almost buzzes off the countertop.

Vernon: hey :)

Vernon: its finally snowing!!

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that the snowfall at night has been almost the only constant in your life lately.

Vernon: where r u???

Vernon: i know ur up we’re gonna go build a snowman

Vernon: dress warm!!

You’re about to force yourself to lie and turn him down, but something snaps inside of you and you find yourself asking for a location before hurriedly pulling on some warmer clothes. To your surprise he asks to meet in the park about a block from your complex, so you make your way over, waiting a few minutes for Vernon to arrive too.

He greets you with a warm smile, barely half his face visible from his beanie and scarf, his hands tucked deep in his pockets.

“Why are you even up this late?” You ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“My roommates threw a party,” he closes his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, his breath drawing the prettiest shapes in the crisp air. “But I could be asking the same.”

“You could, but don’t,” he laughs at your response. “It’s really fucking cold tonight though, so let’s hurry up with that snowman.”

He grins at you and gently bumps his elbow into yours as you set off to find a good patch of snow. It starts out mellow, rolling snowballs around until you get to a size you’re happy with. However, Vernon gets bored quickly and decides to start targeting you with his snowballs instead. The park is quickly filled with your laughter and screaming, chasing each other around until you’re both too tired to run anymore. He flops down into the snow onto his back, sprawling all his limbs out. He’s still laughing quietly, interrupting himself with a scream when you throw one last snowball at his chest, half of the snow ending up in his face as it falls apart on impact. Your eyes widen as he jumps to his feet, an excited squeal leaving your lips when he sets off running in your direction. You try to make your escape, but of course he’s quicker and tackles you to the ground almost immediately. You both end up on your backs, your heads almost touching and the quiet night comes to life as you burst out in giggles almost in perfect harmony. 

“I think there’s a convenience store a few blocks away,” Vernon says once he’s calmed down enough to talk, and turns his head towards you.

“You hungry?” You move your gaze towards him, and suddenly his face is way too close - you could count his eyelashes or maybe get lost in his eyes forever. For a brief second it’s silent except for the pounding of your heart that you’re sure even he can hear.

“Yeah,” he whispers in response, not breaking eye contact. You swallow nervously and your eyes flicker to his lips. “I- Let’s go.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. Neither of you move.

You feel like even the world stops moving for a second, out of politeness, to give you time to think about what to do. You wonder what you’re so scared of, what is it about him that makes your brain short circuit with a single look. The thought of ruining your friendship with Vernon climbs to the front of your mind and suddenly it’s all you can think about. Your body moves on its own as you finally get up, dusting your clothes off and reaching down to help Vernon up. He stares at you dumbfounded, but takes your hand anyway and stands in front you in silence, watching you chew anxiously on your lower lip. Even if he doesn’t know all that’s been bothering you the past few weeks, he can clearly see that something isn’t quite right.

Suddenly you find himself in his embrace, his head squished to yours and his fingers tangled in the back of your coat. He holds you like this for a bit, playfully ruffling your hair when he finally pulls away.

“There’s nothing convenience store ramen can’t fix,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Especially since you’re paying,” you grin at him, and he only laughs at you, shaking his head a little. You never want this night to end.

The walk is quick and goes by in comfortable silence, only stealing glances at each other occasionally. You’re sitting under the flickering neon sign of the store, waiting for your ramen to finish cooking, Vernon almost falling asleep over his food. You offer him your couch for the night, but he politely declines, since surely the party must be over by now. You give him a small nod, poking away impatiently at your noodles, deciding to dig in whether it’s done or not, too hungry and tired to care. The clock above the cashier reads a little past 4am. 

With your stomachs full you’re standing outside the shop, mesmerised by the way the green neon highlights Vernon’s face. Even like this, he looks tired and almost a little sad. Your thoughts wander to how little he has said since you left the park, and it leaves a weird taste in your mouth.

“Thank you.” You spot the perplexed look in his eyes. “For tonight. It was… nice. So, thank you.”

He has way too much to say and way too little consciousness left in him for the night. He tries to string his thoughts together in an order so that they make sense, but the lack of sleep takes over and he only manages a tired smile. He can see something in your eyes that’s new to him, but he decides to save that conversation for another time.

Once you say your goodbyes you slowly make your way home, walking past the half finished snowman. Once you reach the other end of the park you let out a sigh and turn around. You pull your freezing hands from your pockets and get to work once again, rolling a head for the snowman and looking around for some twigs for the arms. You put on a few pebbles as decorations, a smile adorning the snowman’s face now. You take your phone and quickly snap a picture to send to Vernon, even though you’re sure he’s already fast asleep.

It’s past 5am once you get home, managing to fall asleep without tossing and turning for the first time in weeks. You don’t have a dream that night.

When Vernon stumbles through the front door he’s greeted by Seungkwan and Soonyoung watching some movie in the living room, probably half asleep as they don’t seem to notice his arrival. He takes off his shoes and coat, quietly moving towards his room when he hears a tired yawn from the couch. Seungkwan blinks at him sleepily, Vernon greeting him with a small wave that either goes unnoticed, or the boy really was asleep.

“You missed movie night,” Seungkwan croaks out. “What time is it anyways?”

“It’s really, really late. I just had to check on a friend.”

“A friend…” Seungkwan studies Vernon’s face. “You look like shit, dude.”

Vernon only looks back at him with a tired expression, letting out a low sigh before disappearing into his room. He flops down on his bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes. He thinks back to your face so close to his, all the things he could’ve said and done. The moon peeks through his blinds, and he wonders if he kissed you would you have kissed him back.

He dreams about the feeling of your lips on his.

-

Vernon never replies to your finished snowman, and somehow it bothers you a lot more than it should. For the first time this winter the snow didn’t end up melting by the morning, and it’s even there covering the ground in a plush white layer a few days later.

It’s one of those nights again where the dark amplifies your loneliness, and you find yourself in the park again, sitting on a bench in front of your snowman. It’s leaning to the side a little, the daytime sun not taking mercy on it. You stare into its pebble eyes, your elbows resting on your knees and your chin in your palms - almost studying the little creature you made. You know it's going to melt and be gone in a few days, and the thought puts a frown on your face. You wish you never got attached to something so impermanent.

You check your phone for the time, but instead have to face a missed call and a message from Vernon. All it reads is “r u up?”, and you mentally cringe at the tinder-esque nature of his texting habits. You decide not to reply.

You get up to leave, but fix the snowman up before you do so, wrapping your scarf around its neck. You zip your coat up as high as possible and set off with silent steps. Being alone feels suffocating, even though you’re the one who turned Vernon down once again. It’s been weird seeing him around at school, only being able to think about how pretty he looks under cheap neon lights. He doesn’t make much of an effort to reach out either.

Later that week one of his friends invites you to some party he’s hosting, but you politely turn the offer down. You do end up buying a bottle of the cheapest grapefruit soju you can find that very same night, laying drunkenly on the floor and singing along to every song that comes on. You are glad that your phone is dead and you are too out of it to get up for the charger, because all you can think about is texting Vernon. It’s way past midnight when you finally feel well enough to get up, realising that you’ve been ignoring how hungry you are for the past few hours. The kitchen sounds like the worst place to be, so you get dressed and decide on the convenience store that Vernon showed you.

-

Vernon isn’t much for parties, but he realises that he’s in dire need of some socialisation, so when Mingyu invites him over he says yes without thinking. He regrets it just a little when he can hear the blaring music from outside the house, giving himself a mental pep talk before walking inside. He’s immediately met with a crowded room, barely able to squeeze past the swarm of sweaty bodies. Finding any of his friends seems impossible, but the kitchen is right on the other side of the living room, so he beelines there. He grabs a beer from the fridge, and almost jumps out of his skin when he closes the door to find someone standing right next to it, expectantly looking at him. The girl is familiar, but he can’t quite remember her.

“Hey,” she says with a shy smile. “I don’t think we’ve met, at least not when I’m sober.”

The memory suddenly hits him, and the look of realisation on his face makes the girl laugh. She does look different when she’s not about to throw up all over Vernon’s shoes and the floor.

“Oh yeah, that was… A night, for sure. Hi. I’m Vernon, by the way.”

He leans against the counter next to her and cracks his beer open. The girl reaches a free hand towards him, the other cradling a cup of something, and introduces herself as Seohyun. They make small talk for a while, both of them finishing their drinks before she asks Vernon if he wants to dance. He hesitates a little, but nods anyway, and she immediately grabs his hand with a giggle before pulling him into the crowd.

They dance like that, bodies pressed a little too close together, laughing over the music and singing along to every song they know. Vernon feels weird anyway, like something is missing, even if he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly.

He has no idea how long he’s been there when he finally spots Seungkwan in the kitchen, mixing multiple drinks at once. He excuses himself for a second from Seohyun and makes his way over to his friend to greet him. Seungkwan only nods at him, and the response puzzles Vernon.

“What?” Seungkwan asks when he notices Vernon silently staring at him.

“Nothing. Having fun?”

Once again, he only nods. Vernon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but doesn’t press on, knowing fully well that Seungkwan will eventually tell him whatever is going on.

“Have you seen Mingyu?” Vernon shakes his head no and watches as Seungkwan somehow lifts all the cups at once and disappears out of sight without as much as a bye. He wonders if he should’ve stayed home to sleep instead.

He finds Seohyun on the couch, her head lazily thrown back and her eyes glistening in the dim light. She flashes a small smile when she spots Vernon, gesturing for him to sit down.

“I’m getting kind of hungry,” she pouts at him, and he feels like this is his chance to get out.

“I know just the place.”

-

You’re waiting for your ramen to finish cooking, sitting in the window of the convenience store with the neon lights lazily blinking down at you. Those 5 minutes feel like forever, but you’re not hungry enough to eat raw noodles.

The street in front of you is peaceful, even though there’s barely any snow left outside once again. You wonder how your snowman is doing. You wonder how Vernon is doing.

You look up at the clock above the cashier and notice that your food is finally done. Loud giggling grabs your attention from outside the store, and you wish you got more drunk so that you couldn’t be sitting here right now. Vernon’s eyes bore into your own through the glass, an unreadable expression on his face. The girl next to him is obviously lost as to what she’s witnessing, but doesn’t say anything. You quickly gather your belongings, grabbing your dinner too, before rushing out of the store. You glance at the boy one more time, and even though he’s clearly about to say something you rush off home. Tears blur your vision and leave burning trails along your face, but you just want to be home already.

Vernon is too stunned to move, only coming back to reality when he hears Seohyun’s voice.

“Who was that?”

“Just a friend.” A friend. “Let’s go eat.”

Seohyun beams at him, but he wishes he ran after you.

-

New Year’s Eve comes a lot quicker than you wish it did. Fireworks start going off way before midnight, and you can’t help but be annoyed. Maybe more sad than anything else, not really knowing how to feel excited about the new year. It used to be something you found exciting, but over the years it turned into peak isolation and anxiety season for you. Not out of choice, of course, life just happens sometimes.

You haven’t talked to Vernon at all since the convenience store. You haven’t really talked to anyone lately, except for a short call with your family to wish them happy holidays. You weren’t sure what went wrong, or where, but winter always brings a crippling feeling of cosmic insignificance into your life. Loneliness slowly turns into a black hole that absorbs all light and happiness in your life, and you find it harder and harder with each passing day to reach out. By the end of the year the light is barely a pinhole, and you’re sitting in the kitchen once again, watching the fireworks in silence.

-

Vernon can barely recognize their apartment after Seungkwan and Soonyoung are done with decorating, even less once it’s filled with music and all their friends. He doesn’t know most of them, but for one night he can find it in himself to be okay with this arrangement. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he finds a text from Seohyun telling him that she’s outside. Vernon takes the elevator down to the first floor to let the girl in. He unlocks the door for her, and she hugs him with the brightest smile on her face. Guilt immediately floods Vernon’s chest, but he doesn’t want to back away now, after all he was the one who invited Seohyun to this party. They make their way up in silence and enter the bustling apartment, Seohyun finding Vernon’s hand quickly at the overwhelming sight.

It’s still a few hours until midnight and Vernon wonders why he ever thought this to be a good idea.

A few drinks and a lot more dancing later he already feels worn out. He’s almost a hundred percent sure that there’s people doing the worst thing imaginable in his room, and the thought alone makes him want to leave for the rest of the night. He’s way too close to actually ditching all his friends and his sort-of-date, when Seungkwan suddenly yells over the music and the crowd, telling everyone to get to the rooftop. Vernon’s never been so relieved to hear his friend yell. He lets the crowd go out first, Seohyun still by his side. They leave last, Vernon making sure to close the door behind them. He catches a mischievous glint in Seohyun’s eyes, and she challenges him to a race to the staircase at the other end of the building. He lets out a tired sigh, but the girl tugs on his arm - and possibly his heartstrings - in a way he can’t resist. So they run, giggling and being just a little too loud.

It’s only a few minutes until the new year when they finally join the others, out of breath and still laughing. He can see Seohyun’s lips moving, but can’t make out any of it over the noise of all other people present. Suddenly the cacophony turns into clear chanting, and he can faintly recognise Seungkwan who yells “ten” first. They join in to the countdown, fireworks already going off in the distance.

Three. Two. One.

The crowd erupts in cheers, fireworks going off all around them as they enter a new year. Seohyun looks up into Vernon’s eyes, getting on her tiptoes and gently grabbing the collar of his coat. It feels wrong, so wrong, to lead someone on like this, and somehow Vernon still decides to kiss her, his hands settling on her waist as their lips meet. She smiles into the kiss, one of her hands gently moving up to rest on his cheek.

“Happy new year,” Seohyun whispers, still out of breath, resting her forehead against Vernon’s. He doesn’t say it back.

His phone buzzes away on the kitchen counter, your name weakly flashing on the screen. The call disconnects, and the house falls into darkness, before lighting up once again, this time with a text.

“happy new year”

Then it’s dark again.

-

Soon the days start getting longer and you finally say goodbye to snowy nights. You still dream about draping your scarf around Vernon, late night grocery runs, a kitchen window that’s brighter and doesn’t make you feel like the shell of who you used to be.

However, sleep still doesn’t come easy, it never really did. You occasionally find yourself looking out the same window, the sight comforting you with its continuity. Sometimes all you have is the view and the sill where you dangle your feet into a reality where you don't feel so left behind by life.

Tonight is no different, a blanket over your shoulders as you watch over the city. The distant noise of buzzing life makes you feel at peace, and you’re about to crawl back inside when you hear someone yelling your name. The word almost sounds unfamiliar, not having heard it in a while. You look around for the source of the sound, finally spotting Vernon who blends into the night in his usual all black outfit.

“Hey,” he yells once again, and he continues before you can stop him. “Come down? Please?”

You quickly climb inside, Vernon’s voice drowned out by your heart hammering in your chest. You only put on some slippers as you run out of your apartment, fuzzy sucks on your feet and the same blanket still over your shoulder. The elevator ride seems to take forever, but you finally get down, finding Vernon right outside the building sitting on the stairs. He scrambles to his feet when he hears the door behind him open, staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Even though it’s dark, you can see he looks different somehow. Maybe more tired, maybe a little more sad.

“What are you doing here?” The question comes out almost as a whisper.

“I recognized your socks. That sounded a little weird, I’m sorry, I just… Haven’t seen you in a while.”

It’s true, you were focused on your exams and skipped most of your classes whenever you didn’t feel like leaving your apartment for the day. It’s also true that Vernon never called you back or replied to your text since new year’s. He couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes after kissing Seohyun, even though he told her everything a few days later. She was very understanding, albeit understandably sad, and they did find good friends in each other with Vernon after all that happened.

“Is that my scarf?” You step closer to him, gently touching the soft fabric.

“I found it in the park. I was gonna bring it back, but then things kind of… happened,” His voice is barely above a whisper and he looks a little too deep into your eyes.

“How’s Seohyun?” You take a step back, and Vernon visibly gulps. Somehow he just knows that you’ve been talking to Seungkwan.

“I think she’s got a girlfriend now, actually. How’s your boyfriend?”

You’re taken aback by his question, his words sharp and purposeful, making you wince. He doesn’t say anything else, holding your stare as if it was a challenge. You feel the tears welling in your eyes, but neither of you move.

“Happy with someone else.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You called me down for this? Really, Vernon?” You snap at him, unwinding the scarf from his neck, tears freely racing down your face and you almost miss the front door as you push it open.

“Fuck you,” you spit at him before slamming the door shut.

-

Monday morning classes roll around once again, and you find yourself in your usual spot in the lecture hall. For a few weeks you sit alone, Vernon vanishing out of your life along with winter. It’s not until spring finally arrives that a familiar head of messy hair is occupying the seat next to yours by the time you arrive. You quietly settle into your chair, choosing to look everywhere except for the boy next to you. There’s still time until class starts, and you consider leaving to avoid whatever is about to happen, but Vernon is quicker, sliding a lone earphone in front of you on the desk. He patiently waits for you to pick it up and place it in your ear, one of your favourite songs already softly playing. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the class, doodling away in his notebook as usual, and it feels like winter again. When class is over Vernon hurries to leave, but you proceed to stop him in his tracks to give him the earphone back. He almost looks disappointed.

For a moment it’s only the two of you, getting lost in each other’s eyes and wondering when things turned like this, so distant and unfamiliar.

“Wanna go grab some coffee?” Vernon asks suddenly, even though he sounds a little unsure himself. It all feels like the first Monday you met.

The walk is quiet, but not in the comfortable way you’re used to. He still knows your order by heart, and somehow it just makes your chest feel even more tight. Vernon feels like a stranger and your dearest friend at the same time. Sometimes when you look at him too much you go back to the night where things still felt okay and you wonder if he ever thinks about it - about how badly you wanted to hold his hands, kiss him still lying in the snow.

“Your face is gonna stay like that if you frown so much,” he says nonchalantly as he hands you a to-go paper cup.

“I wish,” your words make him snort into his drink as he’s about to take a sip, and it makes you smile too.

You let Vernon lead the way through the neighbourhood, making small talk about all the things you missed in each other’s lives, although you don’t have much to offer having mostly sat at home. You end up on a park bench next to a small lake, and you watch as the ducks peacefully swim along. You wonder if the water isn’t still too cold for them. Vernon is still fiddling with his cup, almost looking somewhat nervous. 

“I missed you,” he says quietly.

“You could’ve texted me.” He doesn’t reply. You do your best not to raise your voice. “At least say something now.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say? Confess my undying love for you? Tell you how I think about you every single day? How guilty I feel that I can’t even bring myself to look you in the eyes?” He’s looking for something, anything in your eyes, but you’re too angry to give it to him that easily.

“Maybe.”

“Oh you’re one to talk, like you’d ever tell me any of it!”

Vernon lets out a frustrated sigh, squeezing the cup in his hands until it buckles. His words fill your head, then your whole body, and you feel like your whole being is vibrating and slowly vanishing at the edges.

Maybe you’ve already fallen hard, hard enough that it did break your body in unspeakable ways. You get up to leave, barely standing on shaky legs, not completely aware of your surroundings. The ringing in your ears gets louder and the air feels a little too thick and the sink is dripping again, and you know you’ll have to get it fixed.

Cold hands come to rest on your face, Vernon’s forehead against yours and you wonder if love is supposed to hurt like this. You close your eyes, the snow is falling and your snowman is smiling at you warmly, your scarf around its neck. A teardrop rolls down your face and you open your eyes slowly.

“Are you okay?”

“Kiss me.”

A sad smile appears on his lips, his hands moving from your face and he wraps his arm around you instead, tucking your face into his neck.

“I promise I will,” He pulls away just enough to see your face. “Another time.”

Your head is still buzzing as he walks you home, gently holding your hand, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. You’re reluctant to let go when you reach your building, and your hesitation draws a faint smile on Vernon’s face.

He leaves a kiss on your forehead before saying bye.

That night you dream about being a duck, floating on glimmering ponds in the early spring sunset. You wake up crying at 2am.

-

You’re on your way home after a late night grocery run when your phone starts vibrating in your pocket. Vernon’s incoming call confuses you at such an odd hour, but you pick it up anyway. It’s loud on the other end of the line, loud music and even louder screaming drowning out Vernon’s voice almost completely.

“Where are you?” He yells into the phone.

“Out. Why?” You’re not sure if he’s sober.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, then suddenly it’s entirely quiet. You check if he’s ended the call. A loud bang reassures you that he’s still there.

“Someone’s having the worst sex I’ve ever witnessed right in my room. Are you free?” The distress in his voice makes you laugh, and you can imagine the frown on his face too well.

“You can come over if you want to, I’ll be home in a bit.”

He doesn’t need much convincing, so you hang up to finally focus on your groceries, grabbing a few extra drinks and snacks for your sudden guest. He’s sitting on the stairs in front of the building when you get home, listening to music that you can faintly make out from his headphones. He notices you as you halt to a stop right in front of him, a tired look on his face as he looks up at you. He smiles at you still and you can’t help but return the gesture.

You blindly reach into your bag, shuffling around for a can of cola that you bought for him. Your fingers finally wrap around the cold metal, and you hand the drink to Vernon, taking another one out for yourself. You take a seat on the stairs next to him, your knees slightly touching - he doesn’t move, so you don’t, either. The wind quietly shakes the barely-there leaves on the trees, and it moves something within you, too.

“I thought you like parties,” you tease him.

“You don’t know what I saw there. Consider yourself lucky, honestly.”

“I mean, you’re lucky that I’m nice enough to offer you my couch for the night.” He scoffs in response, and bumps his knee into yours.

You wonder if Vernon only exists on Mondays and at night.

His profile is sharp and soft at the same time in the flickering, orange light blinking at you from a nearby street lamp. He seems lost in thought and you don’t have it in yourself to bother him right now, not when everything feels so at peace for once. A few faint stars twinkle in the sky, and the moon looks as full as your heart feels. Spring always knew how to take your troubles away - it even happened a little too easily, the ice around your heart melting with the first golden rays of sunshine. 

You know you’re going to be okay.

Almost on instinct you lean your head on Vernon’s shoulder, and you feel his arm circling your waist and squeezing gently, his head coming to rest on top of yours.

Maybe he could help you fix the dripping sink in your bathroom, too.

The lack of sleep finally finds you, the gentle breeze making both of you shiver just enough for you to make your way inside. The elevator has never felt so slow as you wait for it, but when Vernon carefully takes your hand in his, you don’t mind as much anymore. You can feel your face heating up a little, thankful when the elevator dings open. Vernon doesn’t let go of your hand, but you can also tell that his eyes are barely open, so you do your best not to think too much of it even if your skin feels like it’s on fire. You put in your passcode and walk into the small apartment, both of you kicking off your shoes before you lead him into the living room, where he collapses on the couch immediately.

It’s a little endearing somehow, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he struggles to keep his eyes. You fetch him a blanket and leave a toothbrush on the side of the sink, but he’s fast asleep by the time you get back, a throw pillow tucked under his head. You gently cover him with the blanket, and leave to get ready for bed after whispering a “good night” into the dark room.

You have a hard time falling asleep, wondering if he’s going to be there in the morning.

You dream about having his toothbrush in your cup next to yours.

You wake up to the smell of breakfast, worry flooding your mind before you remember that it’s most likely just Vernon. You slowly open your door, peeking into the kitchen to see him in front of the stove, fumbling with a pan and a pair of chopsticks.

“Smells good,” your sudden voice makes him jump, and he almost drops the pan.

“Just because I don’t know how to unlock the front door you don’t get to scare me to death.”

His focus is back on the eggs in front of him, so you slip into the bathroom to brush your teeth. You grab everything without even looking, but the toothbrush feels foreign in your hand. You look at yourself in the mirror and realise that you’re holding the one that you left out for Vernon last night. Then it hits you, he put it in the cup himself.

You quickly finish your morning routine and walk back into the kitchen where he’s sitting at the table, two plates of food set out for both of you. The sun filters in through the sheer curtain, painting everything golden, and you feel like your heart might rip out of your chest with how it’s hammering away.

Breakfast is quiet and peaceful, Vernon showing no signs of being in a hurry. You thank him for making you food as you place the dishes in the sink, only to find him staring at you when you turn back around. His eyes are soft, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, and you feel almost naked under his gaze.

“What?” You know you’re blushing, but you have nowhere to hide in the small kitchen.

“Nothing.”

The smile doesn’t leave his lips still, and you quickly excuse yourself as you rush into your room, feeling too overwhelmed. It’s weird to have someone, especially him, in your kitchen, looking so domestic and so pretty in the early morning sunlight. You can hear him doing the dishes in the other room and it almost makes you cry. By the time you gather yourself enough to face him again he’s getting ready to leave, one of his shoes already on his feet. You watch in silence, and unlock the door for him when he stands up straight.

He’s halfway out the door when he turns back around and presses a kiss to your cheek; your mouth opens and closes as you try to say something. Vernon says bye with a laugh and leaves you standing there, way too flustered to even close the door.

A neighbour appears in the hallway which prompts you to slam the door shut way too quickly and loudly, pressing your back against it and sliding to the floor.

You wonder if you’re still dreaming.

-

You’re running late to your morning class, having missed your alarm, feeling kind of asleep still. The seat next to yours is empty when you arrive just a few seconds before the professor, and you wish you went back to bed instead of running all the way to school.

The class is halfway through when the door quietly opens and Vernon slips in, two to-go cups in his hands. He looks completely unbothered by the fact that he’s this late as he takes his usual seat. He slides one of the drinks in front of you, your name scribbled on the side of the paper cup. You give him a confused look, but he only nods at you before taking a sip of his coffee. You do the same, quickly realising that he bought you your favourite. Maybe coming to class wasn’t the worst idea.

You leave the lecture together, coming to a halt in front of the building as Vernon spots his friends huddled together in their usual circle.

“There’s gonna be a party tonight,” he turns to you suddenly. “I want you to come.”

His eyes are intense and it makes your heart flutter.

“Okay, I’ll be there. Thank you for the drink.” You give him a soft smile.

“I was gonna be late anyway, so I figured why not.” It’s obvious that he’s not telling the truth, his cheeks turning red along with his ears. It makes you feel warm inside. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Will you watch the sunset with me before?”

With the way you’re looking at him, he doesn’t think he could say no to you, so he nods and turns to say bye. You stop him, your fingers wrapping around his arm, and you press a quick kiss to his cheek before walking away. He looks even more flustered, his feet glued in place as he watches you disappear into the morning mist.

You can hear his friends faintly as they cheer for him from afar.

-

It’s already getting dark when you rush out of your apartment towards the address that Vernon texted you. The air is crisp against your skin, and you realise you didn’t dress nearly warm enough to be sitting out in the cold, but it’s too late to go back home. You will yourself to a jogging speed, finally spotting Vernon in front of his complex.

“Please tell me the elevator is working,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. “My body was not made for this.”

“Well…” Vernon starts, but the look in your eyes makes him burst out in laughter. “I’m just fucking with you, it’s fine.”

“You better hope it’s fine, or you’ll get to carry me up to the rooftop on your back,” it’s his turn to give you a distraught look.

Lucky for both of you, the elevator is in working condition, so you only have to take the stairs on the last two floors. Vernon makes a show of opening the door leading up to the rooftop, a fond look on his face as he watches you take in the view. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this happy. You turn to him and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, muttering a “thank you” into his coat. The pink sky, along with the last few rays of sunshine make Vernon look even more angelic than you usually find him, and you wonder if he too can hear how fast and loud your heart is beating. He says something that you can’t hear from being lost in thought, but before you can ask him to repeat himself he’s pulling a blanket from his backpack and putting it down on the ground. You both take a seat, sitting close enough that your thighs are touching, your head almost immediately coming to rest on his shoulder.

The city is quietly buzzing away in the distance, glass buildings glistening pink, birds flying across the horizon. Vernon feels warm and familiar, his head on top of yours and his arm around you. You don’t remember the last time you felt so at peace.

The top of the sky is fading into blue, the last bit of sun still poking out from behind the city, but the stars are already visible. It feels like a moment you’ll remember forever.

You’re getting ready to leave, Vernon reaching a hand towards you to help you up. You watch him fold and put the blanket away in silence, and he freezes when he turns around, his backpack in his hands, finally noticing that you’re looking at him.

“What?” 

He looks confused, but you simply step closer instead of replying. Your mind is a mess of incomprehensible thoughts no matter how hard you try to regain control over yourself.

“Can you kiss me?” It’s barely a whisper, your thoughts somewhere far away, somewhere where you’re lying in the snow, eating ramen under neon lights. Somehow, Vernon looks the same kind of dazed.

His bag lands on the ground with a thud, his hands cupping your face as he leans in without thinking, his lips crashing against yours almost hungrily. Your fingers find his collars easily even with your eyes closed, pulling him closer, closer, closer. Your lips move perfectly together, your hearts beating in unison. He tastes like how it feels to wake up next to someone you love, and even though his lips are cold, a warm feeling floods your whole body. You only pull away when your lungs beg you for air, and as your eyes find Vernon’s you can’t help but smile. With his hands still gently resting on your face he wipes away a few stray tears, and you turn your head to the side to press your lips against his palm.

The air feels thick from all the words left unsaid, but they can wait. For now, you’re okay with this.

“I don’t wanna go to that party anymore.”

“I’ve got a better idea.”

-

You’re sitting at your usual table under the flickering neon lights at the convenience store, already having finished your food. For the first time in months, your chest feels light, and you’re not sure if it’s because of spring or Vernon. You don’t mind either way.

He walks you home, almost kisses you goodnight, but you pull away. He looks at you anxiously, waiting for something to happen.

“Sleep over,” you say in a small voice.

“Your couch isn’t that comfortable,” he’s only half joking, a smirk on his lips and his hands reaching to find yours.

“But my bed is.”

The smile vanishes off his face, his eyes widening, and you’re about to make up an excuse, say that you were only joking, when you notice that he’s blushing. Suddenly he nods, beaming at you, and you mimic his expression, pulling him towards the entrance.

It’s odd, having him this close, especially in your own home after having been alone in it for so long. He smells like your shampoo, and tastes like your toothpaste, and it makes you nervous and excited at the same time, your heart feeling too big for your chest.

You watch with a fond look on your face as he moves around in the apartment, and somehow it feels like this is how it’s always been, his comfortable presence filling a void you weren’t even fully aware of.. 

In the dark of your room, under the warm covers, he holds you against his chest as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He looks at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” His question makes you let out an airy laugh, but he waits for your answer patiently.

“Only if you promise that you’ll do it again.”

With that, his lips are on yours, softly and slowly. He’s touching you like no one did before, with so much love and patience, that you can’t help but think about how this will break your body in unspeakable ways.

-

When you wake up, his bag is in the corner of your room, his toothbrush is still next to yours in the cup, and the sink isn’t dripping anymore. He’s still asleep, and you trace his features in your mind, trying to memorise how beautiful he looks even like this.

You know you’ll never love anyone as much as this, not in this lifetime.

A fleeting moment of everything and nothing.

[mercysventingblog]

why is it considered rude to say "i know" when one actually knows the information of which the other is talking about in a conversation?

like, my father tells me of scams and phishing (like i was still unaware and didn't know after the 27 other times.), and he says USPS don't usually tell you stuff via text. i say "i know" and he takes it offensively (furrowed brow, huff, higher technically-can't-be-considered-mocking-but-really-is-such intonation)

(like the one where the kids have plausible deniability when they asked me "oh wow do you like beetles?" (in a teasing, mocking, probably bullying way; laughing after they say that, and grinning all the while) when i was researching beetles and talking to my friend about them & how much i love them & why. i scoff and they say "oh, well, i'm just asking!!! don't be sooo easily offended.".)

is it not a compliment to have your (directed however not directed to you, the reader.) kid know, if anything??? to know your kid understands? it's factual, are you offended, too, when i say 1 + 1 = 2?

i waited until he was done talking (DID NOT INTERUPPT AT ALL), and i responded accordingly, with my genuine verbal reaction, in a non-monotonous voice. (i have an issue with saying what i don't truly think just to be nice and have people like me, alongside my voice being monotonous and thus passive aggresive and ingenuine?) i responded trying to sound nice, with the kindest intonation i can do. but he's still offended? what? i thought it was my monotonous voice that set people off?

i genuinely dont understand.

do i need to get a psychology degree to understand this? i'll get it. i will study relentlessly. i'll know everything about psychology until the cows come home. please just tell me why.

maybe i am overthinking this but please this has happened so many times with my mom and my dad and my aunt and just any adult in my life i am so confused and they never tell me why they're angry at me after i said i know.

my mum tells me that everything that can cause harm is offensive. okay. i believe her, but WHY BE SO ANGRY OVER SOMEBODY SAYING THEY KNOW WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT?? would you rather be angry over being understood or not being understood? is he mad he thinks i misunderstood? i did not, i told him the information he told me to prove that i understood his idea entirely, BUT HES STILL ANGRY AT ME AND CALLED ME A 'SMART-ASS'? what did i do wrong please im just a teenager i dont understand.

please i write all these little clarifications in my writing to make sure i'm not misunderstood because misunderstandings make me lose friends, reputation, opportunities, EVERYTHING and they see it as condescending and me thinking they don't already understand. how am i supposed to know you would understand? why is it considered an insult to not understand something? why is it bad to lack ungiven knowledge? "oh, well, because who wouldn't understand?" (in response to the first question in the paragraph)

I DON'T KNOW????? YOU???? i don't know whether or not you would understand which is entirely why i do this. im so tired. im sorry if i come off as rude in this. i genuinely don't know how to phrase my feelings to be nice AND accurate. i don't want to downplay my feelings. please. i'm already AFAB so i was told to always be nice and polite and to just say "oh, i kinda think you shouldn't be doing that!" instead of "don't do that." to be nice and to not sound mean. if only i was born a handsome man. maybe everything would be better.

please how do i be human.

[rex101111]

Whee time to slap stickers on things! 🎱🍓🐇🧃 🍄🦷🥐🧩

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 

User Subscriptions:84

Kudos:10,191

Comment Threads:621

Bookmarks:2,201

Subscriptions:833

Word Count:313,916

Hits:153,472

No idea how much this stacks up to others but im pleased with it XD surprised how many subscribers i have though :O

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

"...man...these demons in naruto are kinda cool...huh...i wonder if one of them was a dragon...waaaaait a minute..."<-11 year old unaware he's about to discover the joy of writing his favorite cartoons in various situations. No seriously. 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? 

Much as i appreciate the appeal of self inserts, personally if im going to add anything i'd prefer if it was a different thing from myself. Then again all creative work is an extention of at least even a fragment of the self...meh. Seriously though, I don't do much of either but given the choice id just go with OCs.

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I went to a sort of private elementary school that had an honest to god zoo. like, a pretty small petting zoo type thing you can just...go to during recess and pet animals. all sorts of animals too, horses, parrots, a reptile house. my favorites were the weasels though. super friendly and they loved to eat cottage cheese.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Baiken can cook, and after everything settles down she insists on cooking when Anji's birthday rolls around. She cooks like the person eating is planning to go on an expedition, calorie rich, large portions, plenty of salt and fat because the body is gonna need those if you're gonna go out and run around somewhere dangerous for a while. Usually the most dangerous place Anji goes to after finishing one of his Birthday Meals is the hallway between the kitchen and the bedroom. Since doing so keeps him out of trouble, Baiken considers this a success.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Don't. Force it. Just don't. Every day sit down and give it a try, see if anything comes to you, but if nothing does? Close the doc, take a breath, and go do something else. And I do mean do, like make yourself something to eat or attend to something else you have going on, read or, whatever. Unless you have a literal deadline over your head, forcing it will just piss you off and bum you out. It's okay not to write every day, it's okay not to have anything come out, just leave it alone and check on it tomorrow. It'll be there for you to try again, promise.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

*enthusiastic live action bowser voice* MONKEY! :D

i have no earthly idea why, but years and years later, still gets me.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

no paragraph breaks. full stop on that one. i see a wall of text and i turn around like that one grandpa simpson meme. no thank you. you could have the second coming of the epic of gilgamesh hidden in there but i ain't spending the time to excavate the damn thing. learn how to format your fics, god's sake.

also 1st person POV. sometimes. some fics have done good work with it...very, very few though.