#recently read a book about loneliness and one of the things that stuck out to me was about denying your own existence through lack of speech

[asukiess]

..top five books

so. I read maybe. 2 books or so in 2022, 4 in 2023, and this year I've read close to 20? anyway. that's all to say I have a limited selection to pick from because I only recently was inspired to kick those numbers up <3

Well of Loneliness. I talk about it so much. I think about it so much. there was so much that was surprising to me about this book, but also the way Radclyffe describes Stephen's emotions is sooooo incredibly visceral, and the situations are so. AUGH!!!! stephen's early life and her struggles with gender identity, her feelings of otherness, her realization of her queerness, how she always feels "too big" and too much like a man and how others comment on her body/abilities/preferences, how she feels so different from her childhood girl "friend" (I forget her name, violet?), how Roger picks on her, how Radclyffe painted a picture of being an introspective, othered child is absolutely astounding. and then!!!! literally everything else that happens to stephen!!!! AUGH the family lineage, her dating world, the way it talks about the divide of lesbians vs. gay men and how stephen and mary view being queer and UGH!!!!!!!!!! UGH!!!!! I LOVE THIS BOOK!!!!! and it's written so gorgeously.

Bunny. I don't really need to say more than what we've discussed at length. Before my next book, I think this was legit my most annotated book. they also look like the ramblings of a mad woman. I was obsessed. I think the ideas about creativity are really, really interesting and have stuck with me. No one does the slight abject horror and magical realism like Mona!!!! 🙏🫶😵‍💫

Upstream (by Mary Oliver). I've moved this from the bookshelf to my bedside/desk. it has become somewhat of a daily devotional book to me.

For Whom the Bell Tolls (and much in the same vein, The Things They Carried). I grouped these together because I read them around the same time and they also had incredible similarities and have both stuck with me. When I read TTTC, I was constantly underlining and just annotating "FWTBT" ajddbsj. For as much as I read about Hemingway's "rugged, closed-interior" man, Robert Jordan was surprisingly open and fun to read and there was a part near the end that suddenly brought tears to my eyes. His and Anselmo's "you musn't take pleasure in the killing", the matador descriptions by Pablo's wife, the WHOLE chapter where it describes the public executions..... that was seriously an elevation on a spiritual level for me idk. insane chapter and the ideas of mob mentality etc etc.

Doppelganger by Naomi Klein. don't exactly want to delve into politics on a fandom blog, but this was an illuminating read for me, and I plan to check out her other books as well, esp the Shock Doctrine.

[semifinel]

March - 2023

Games

Spiritfarer- I played the phone Netflix version over quite a long time but we recently canceled Netflix so I felt compelled to try finishing it. I didn’t but I got close. It is a very charming game and most of my complains would be nitpicky so I’ll just skip them.

Deep rock galactic- started playing it again with my brother and his friends, it is a good game, it has a nice gameplay loop, distinct style, and the world generation ain’t bad. Tried playing it alone when they were busy and I think that’s mind numbing.

Little nightmares- honestly disappointing. It wasn’t bad I just wish it was better. I really feel like it’s style over substance but at the same time tried to make you think there is substance. Every time I got stuck it wasn’t the fun kind of figuring out a puzzle stuck but more of a I have no idea what I’m doing wrong stuck. Still nice, heard it gets better in the sequels.

Minit- wonderful game, loved it. I just know speedruns of this game would look wild and I need to check them out.

The darkness 2- I had this game in my steam library for some reason, probably got it for free at some point. The only reason I gave it a go is because that was the topic of the something rotten podcast this month and I wanted to play along. Must be lucky that I choose the only game this far that seemed actually fun. The game has a lot of style and I’m surprised there aren’t any modem games that take inspiration from it. It does end in a note that clearly says that they thought there would be a sequel, which didn’t happen. Do I wish it was written better? Maybe. Do I wish the characters from the co op campaign weren’t racist stereotypes? Yes.

Rain world- last month I said I might get it some point and I did, the world wants me dead and I fucking love slugcats so much. Wonderful game wish I died a bit less.

Sludge life- I was bored when I down loaded this, it has loads of style which I appreciate, played till I’ve gotten an ending then played a bit more and got bored. Nice game to mess around it for a few hours.

It takes two- I started playing this with a friend. The thing about this game that it’s beautiful, the mechanic are wonderful and it feels great to play, there is a lot of talent that went into this game. But man I wish the story didn’t exist. A story about divorce has potential but this ain’t it. I hate the racist book and his bright pink eyebrows, I hate both main characters they are just genuinely bad people and I wish they would stop talking. The separate parts of the game are wonderful it’s just what sticks them together that is unbearable.

Shows

The last of us- it was done and I love it and I am patiently awaiting next season. Nothing to say that hasn’t been said before me.

Ted lasso- hell yeah it’s finally back I missed him so much.

Comics

My lesbian experience with loneliness- this effected me so hard in a way I can’t explain nor will I ever share with anyone online.

Fence- Started it on a whim, love it so much that I got upset learning it is an ongoing series and not a complete one. Ahhhhh.

Check, please!- I know it’s popular and I kinda started and abandoned it years ago, after reading fence I wanted more queer sports comics and it came to mind, it is cute, maybe too cute for my taste but I can see why it has such a name.

Books

חופש מוחלט (A liberdade total) -Pablo Katchadjian

I’ve read this in Hebrew and cannot find it in English, I thought it was entertaining and weird and absurd and I really like the absurd.

I feel like I must have forgotten something in this list but alas.

[hallelujahonmytongue]

Had some good religion-adjacent realisations today when I went for a walk cause I was going crazy stuck in my room. I feel like it’s easy for me to stay in my room because I get home so wiped from work, and I think of resting as being in bed and I also think of my silly little walk for my silly little mental health as being just getting outside, which I do on the way to work, rather than being for time away from needing to do stuff and being with nature and the like.

But I went to the pond near my house, it’s like kind of nature-y but it’s a nice ten minute walk I’ve done a bunch of times. The pond is pretty, I was really wigging out from sadness and loneliness from missing my partner and anger at my mum for messing me up so bad (I journalled the other day and had some realisations about attachment styles and why I’ve been struggling a lot in my relationship recently). I felt like I was feeling such overwhelming pain in my small body and soul.

But then I was able to self regulate really well, because I realised that I need to create a sense of self that is separate to my relationships with other people. I was so lonely for so long that now that I have so many fulfilling close relationships, I forget I have parts of me that only I know and only I need to nurture by spending my alone time doing something other than consuming media to avoid a thought occurring. I wrote down a list of things that make me feel I’m treating myself and doing something just for me, mostly going out for meals on my own or getting a fancy drink or making a cup of tea or reading a book. Basically mostly monetary things but things that I would do for someone I really liked, things that are extra care that show me I value myself. It was just refreshing in general to acknowledge that I’ve lost myself in other people a bit recently, and that ties back to the attachment style stuff.

Secondly, I’ve been massively freaked out about religion type stuff since my friend told me God is waiting for me after I started crying over how much I missed God and how much I missed praying to Them. (I don’t hold it against my friend, it was actually a super sweet thing of him to say and he meant it in the best way possible, it was just totally the wrong thing to say to me, unbeknownst to him.) It shook my whole “I don’t believe in God anymore because I can’t risk getting my heart broken again” thing, which was honestly more of a just “repeat that whenever I think about it and avoid processing the trauma of losing my faith”. I felt so conflicted all over again, I would pray and love praying and go to church and love that too but then hate myself and be confused and be angry at God all over again.

Today I realised that I am tired of living in that loop. Yes, I could be religious and accept that my life will be defined by my struggle with God, or at least inextricably intertwined with it and it will take up most of my brain space. Or, and this is what I decided, I can heed the promise I made to myself when I was overwhelmed with the pain of losing my faith the first time, and I swore I’d never believe again because I knew I wouldn’t survive the pain a second time.

I could just let it go, accept the pain of missing God and missing religion but also know I can miss something and not want it back because I know it’s not good for me. I need to just cut myself off from all the religious social media and my need to go to church even when it’s hard to do that because it’s so much healthier for me to live my life in accordance with my values of logic and evidenced based belief. It’s just so freeing and calm for the two parts of me to not be at war constantly. I know some of you will want to disagree with me and you’ll say one can have faith without that, but I never could and believe me, I tried.

As soon as I admitted that, the deepest sense of calm passed over me and I realised that I can achieve the sense of peace I get at church by listening to my own Wise Mind, to use DBT terminology. I am the one who loves me no matter what, and I am the one who waits for myself to acknowledge I will always be here and I will always be on my own side. I don’t need God for that because I can self regulate on my own, and I can thereby avoid the horrible conflicts within my brain.

[writingsbymarie]

Tangled (Harry Styles x reader)

Pairing: Harry Styles x female!reader tangled AU

Word count: 9.4k words (jeez)

A/n: so this is inspired by tangled, but not everything is the same, plus i’d say this goes into darker detail. Also happy valentines day bitches comments and feedback would be great and my requests are currently open so if you any au idea let me know cuz those are my favorite to write :)

Summary: You have magic hair, your mother who isn’t actually your mother is insane, your a touch starved girl who has been trapped in a tower for eighteen years when a handsome man shows up in your tower changing your life forever.

Loneliness would be the best way to describe how you felt most days as you stare from the window of the tower you've spent 18 years in.

“Maybe one day it will be safe enough to leave” you spoke to your black cat Loki who blinked at you before nudging your arm with his head purring in an attempt to cheer you up. You got off of the ledge of the balcony your hair in a braid almost touching the ground. Your whole life you had lived in that tower reading books and learning from them being one of the only things you spent your time doing. That and painting the walls of the tower that was now covered in your paintings. You knew staying there was for your well-being. Your mother warned you of the dangers of the outside world, the vicious animals, and other humans that would tear you apart if you stepped out the door. What else was special about your hair was what it could do for others. It could heal any kind of wound or sickness. Whenever you sang your hair would glow and whatever it touched it would heal. You understood that your powers made you different from others, and people would use you for it, but you were so desperate to leave you’d rather be used for your powers than stay in the tower alone. Your mother was all you had, but she wasn’t always around, leaving for days to get supplies. You always begged her to let you come with but she always said she needed to keep you safe, and the only way to do that was to stay in the tower. 

It was almost your nineteenth birthday which was the best day of the year as you got to watch the lanterns float into the sky. You liked to tell yourself that they were for you. That they were your birthday present, but deep down you knew that wasn’t true. You approached your bookshelf grabbing the most recent book your mother had brought home. It was a love story that made your heart yearn for love like that. Books had taught you everything about life from cooking to making clothes, having friends, and love. You lost yourself in love stories as they were your favorite. When you were sixteen you read the first book that taught you about sex. Which then was able to explain the ache between your legs as you read about it. 

Your mother didn’t teach you sex ed, she just handed you a book, which explained everything and taught you how to pleasure yourself, which you did often enough as you were stuck in a tower with limits on what you could do.

Just as you started reading your mother walked in greeting you with a hello. You smiled up from the book one of your hands playing with your hair as you anxiously thought of a way to ask her if you could see the lights this year. 

“Mother can I ask you something” you started standing up from your chair.

“Of course what is it” she replied grabbing both your hands noticing your serious tone.

“Listen I know its dangerous out there, but I’m about to be nineteen, and I can't stay here for the rest of my life I’m miserable, all I’m asking is for you to take me to the lights for my birthday” you spilled your emotions full causing your mother to frown.

“Y/n you know what's out there you are safe up here, they will use you for your powers” she started, but you interrupted her.

“I don’t care if it's not safe mother, I want to meet people, fall in love, I can’t take spending every day in this tower how could they even know I have powers” you cried out in frustration.

“Y/n do not use that tone with me, you cannot leave this tower and that is final” she snarled making tears start to stream down your face.

“You don’t get it, I feel like I’m drowning all the time, I can’t live like this forever, I’m miserable mom please” you sobbed. 

“Honey, I understand, but I can’t lose you and it's horrible out there, every time I go out there for us I risk my life, and I won’t let you just die, I won’t let them use your powers” your mother spoke softly wrapping her arms around your shaking body as you cried into your hands slumping into her as you let out all your sadness.

“I don’t want to live like this” you cried into her arms your breathing erratic. 

“You don’t have a choice” 

-

The next morning you woke up to see a note from your mother saying she was going to get you your birthday present and would be back as soon as she could. You sighed your head aching from all the crying your hair a mess. You slipped from your nightgown went into your shower washing yourself and your long hair. Your hair took a ridiculous amount of time to wash, It went down to the back of your knees as you hadn't ever cut it since that would cause the hair to lose its power.

Once you were done washing your body and hair you put on your purple sundress that was a bit fitted on top and then flowed out to your ankles. You then braided your hair and sat down on your chair pulling out your book. You read for what felt like an hour until you heard a noise from outside your window almost like a grunt making your heart stop. 

Someone was going to kill you was the first thing that went through your mind. You quickly ran to the kitchen grabbing a frying pan before backing yourself into a corner. Your breathing picked up when you heard footsteps coming from upstairs. You quickly hid behind a chair as the footsteps began to transcend down the stairs. You looked from the side to be met with a young man with brown fluffy hair. He was definitely cute, but you knew he was dangerous so once he turned around you whacked him as hard as you could with the frying pan causing him to immediately fall to the ground with a thud as you went into panic mode.

“Please don’t be dead” you whispered as you bent down feeling his pulse a breath of relief leaving your mouth as you felt his heart still beating. You then grabbed some rope tying his arms together as tight as you could. You then sat down across from him your pan still in hand as you waited anxiously for the man to wake up.

-

You had no idea how long he was out. When his eyes opened they filled with panic as he scanned the room trying to move his arms, but he stopped thrashing once his green eyes met yours. You were terrified to the point that you were shaking holding up the frying pan.

“What’s going on” he asked slowly watching as you didn’t move a muscle. “listen I’m not opposed to being tied up but not like this” he joked making your eyes widen slightly. 

“You came in here trying to kill me so I hit you with a frying pan” you stammered your body filled with fear. You watched his face contort in confusion at your statement.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you, some guys were after me, I saw this tower so I decided to come to hide in it” he tried to explain, but you shook your head.

“My mother says that everyone outside of the tower is bad, and people like you would try to kill me which is why I can’t leave” you explained and he tilted his head even more confused.

“I mean sure there are evil people out there, but not everyone” he started, and you shook your head.

“No, she said its too dangerous out of the tower” 

“Love, how long have you been up here,” he asked.

“My whole life” you answered and you watched his eyes widen.

“You have never left this tower, how old are you” 

“Eighteen, almost nineteen” you responded slowly lowering the pan as you felt more comfortable. “How old are you,” you asked softly.

“I’m twenty one” he replied in shock wondering why on earth this girl had been raised to think everyone was bad and she could never leave a small tower, but Harry knew he needed to get away, and out no matter how bad he felt for the girl. He was not about to go to jail and possibly get the death penalty for stealing from the king and queen or getting killed by the men he screwed over taking the crown for himself. 

“Why are there people after you,” she asked bringing her legs into her chest.

“Remember when I said there are good and bad people, there are some bad people after me that's why I came to hide here, but if they find me they will hurt me so I need you to let me go” he explained and you shook your head.

“No I can’t let you go, I don’t trust you” you tensed rubbing your fingers on your temples.

“I’m Harry” he spoke up, and your eyes met his. “I know you think everyone is bad, but I won’t hurt you”

“I’m Y/n” you responded before standing up to grab some water. You didn’t know what to think, but you knew you needed to ask him about what it was like out there because right now you were beginning to think your mother wasn’t being honest with you. You grabbed an extra glass for Harry and walked towards him.

“You thirsty” he nodded and you tilted the glass of water into his mouth before sitting on the ground across from him Loki came to sit on your lap. 

“Is it dangerous outside of this tower?” you asked.

“Well it can be, but it is safe more than it is dangerous, it just depends on where you are” he explained and you scrunched your face in frustration.

“So if I were to leave this tower I would probably be fine,” you asked your blood boiling.

“I mean maybe, but you have no perception of life outside of here so yeah it could be dangerous for you”

“Why are their lights every year on the same day” you then asked and he looked at you funny as the question was unexpected

“They are for a princess that went missing a while back” he explained and you nodded, when suddenly you had an idea.

“I’ll let you go if you take me to the lights” you blurted and his eyes widened.

“I can’t do that” 

“Why not”

“Because I don’t have time for that”

“Make time, or you are never leaving and I guarantee you don’t want to be here when my mother gets home” you need him to say yes because he was right, you had no idea how to be outside of this tower, and leaving alone would be a death wish, but maybe with him you could go see the lights and prove to your mother that you can be outside of the tower, and just maybe she would trust you to leave the tower.

Harry felt his body tense up knowing that the risk of him getting caught would exponentially grow if he went anywhere near the kingdom again, but he also didn’t have a death wish and from the sounds of it your mother was borderline insane.

“Fine” he huffed, and she squealed untying him.

“If you try anything I will hit you with the pan again” she spoke, and he smirked.

“Trust me I believe you, and you have a mean arm my head still hurts” he laughed and you frowned feeling slightly bad for whacking him so hard. 

“We should leave right now before my mom gets back” you suggested and he nodded. “How do we get down”

“We climb, but don’t worry I’ll help you okay” he smiled as you walked towards the window. You put your feet out taking a deep breath before turning and grabbing onto a vine slowly lowering yourself down. You couldn’t believe you were doing this right now. Once you were to the bottom you let go of your feet hitting the soft grass below. You looked around taking it all in a smile appearing on your face as Harry dropped next to you. 

“I’m out” you laughed before taking off to run breathing in the fresh air before spinning before falling to the ground looking up at the clouds. You then closed your eyes letting the heat of the sun warm your body. 

“You done” he asked raising an eyebrow. You opened your eyes looking up to see the gorgeous man smiling, and you just laughed shooting up throwing your arms around him. You felt his body tense up as you snuggled into his neck taking in his scent, and the warmth of his body against yours.

“Thank you Harry” you whispered into the hug and Harry felt his heart swell slightly. You pulled away from him still smiling ear to ear, and Harry couldn’t help but think you were beautiful. When he smiled back and you felt your cheeks heat up. He was extremely handsome like the boys you saw in the pictures in your books. The way one curl fell onto his forehead had your knees weak, and his smile just about killed you.

“Lead the way” you blurted out breaking the eye contact that was making you feel a slight ache between your thighs. You knew that you were touch starved, but you wanted to kiss him, and you wanted him to touch you everywhere. You may be a virgin, but you definitely knew all there was to sex because you had read so much about it. It was a guilty pleasure that you don’t regret one bit, and you were now thinking that aside mission to seeing the lights would be to get this man to sleep with you because you weren’t sure you would get an opportunity like this ever again. 

Harry began to walk, and you followed behind him as you felt the adrenaline rush leave your body turning to panic. You suddenly stopped the tower nowhere in sight and you felt tears begin to sting your ears. Harry turned around noticing you had stopped his eyes filling with concern. 

You walked towards a rock sitting down. 

“Hey what's wrong” Harry pried grabbing your hand in his.

“My mother is going to hate me” you choked out.

“Y/n listen, your mother has no right to keep you locked away in a tower for your whole life, you are an adult, and you deserve to make your own choices” 

“But what if I made a bad choice” you looked at him.

“Do you want to go back?” he asked softly. You turned from him looking at your surroundings. Did you want to go back?  

“No” the answer came out before you could even process what you were saying. 

“Can we keep going” he squeezed your hand and you nodded, but this time he kept his hand locked with yours and you began walking through the thick woods.

“Where are we going” you questioned and he turned his head to face you.

“Depends, we can go straight for the kingdom or I could show you what you should be doing as a nineteen-year-old” you looked at him tilting your head. 

“What should I be doing at this age exactly” you questioned.

“Have you ever heard of a pub” he inquired?

“Like one that serves alcohol” 

“Would you want to do that, you don’t have to, but we can”

“I want to, I’ve drunk alcohol by the way my mom lets me drink on special occasions” 

“Have you been drunk before” 

“Yep, sometimes I drink when my mom's gone, makes things interesting ya know” you laughed.

“So you're not as innocent as you seem” he smirked.

“You should see what I’ve read” you winked giggling as shock crossed his face at your comment. “Now let's go get drunk” 

-

The pub had only been about an hour's walk away, and by the time you got there, the sun had just gone down. You watched Harry approach a tree quickly ripping a paper from it crumpling it up before leading you into the pub. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion wondering what had been on the paper, but the second you entered the pub you could care less. When you walked in music was playing, and people were laughing and dancing. You smiled as you scanned the building. Harry grabbed your hand leading you to the bar area. 

“Harry Styles what do I owe the pleasure,” said a blonde man with a thick accent and a bright smile.

“Keep it down Niall” he grumbled. 

“Not my fault you enjoy doing illegal” Niall started but Harry cut him off.

“How about some drinks for my friend and I”

“Who might this pretty lady be” Niall turned to you flashing a smile. 

“Y/n” you held out your hand to shake his. His grip on your hand was firm and his hand radiated warmth. 

“So what brings you here,” Niall asked, and you felt your body tense up not exactly knowing how to answer. 

“Her mom's insane locked her in a tower her whole life, and now I’m showing her a good time” Harry took over and Niall looked at him with a strange look.

“Seriously” he narrowed his eyebrows.

“She's not that crazy she just wanted to keep me safe” you replied and Niall let out a breath.

“Y/n no person locks their kid in a tower for their whole life because they are too paranoid, your mother has some issues no offense” Harry spoke. His words should have upset you as he shouldn’t be speaking about you mother that way, but you knew he had a point so you shut your mouth.

“Well you've got a lot of life to catch up on so here's a drink” Niall handed you a cup, and you downed the liquid it burning your throat. Harry looked at you with wide eyes. 

“As he said I’ve got a life to catch up on” you shrugged.

“Okay but let's not get so drunk we can’t walk alright” Harry gave you two thumbs up and a smile and you rolled your eyes.

“Another” you put the glass down and Niall nodded filling it up again this time you took a seat deciding to take your time with the drink as the first one was beginning to hit you. You turned your body looking at the dance floor and the band playing instruments to an upbeat tune. “Dance with me” you breathed to Harry.

“I don’t dance darling” he chuckled.

“Well you’re dancing today” you smiled as you took his hand dragging him to the middle fo the dance floor as you jumped and swayed with the people around you Harry just standing there awkwardly causing you to laugh. You then wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you, and he started to sway slightly looking down at his feet.

“So Harry tell me about yourself” you asked wanting to know more about the mystery man you decided to risk your life with. 

“What do you wanna know”

“Anyhting like your favorite color, your family, where you live, stuff like that” you swayed playing with the ends of his hair.

“Well my favorite color is blue, my dad left when I was young, my mom and sister live far from here, and I don't really live anywhere I just float I guess” 

“You don’t have a home” you frowned.

“Nope” he shrugged.

“So you’re all alone”

“Well that's a depressing way to put it but yeah I guess” he sighed, and you felt your heart ache for him, but you also related to him. You felt alone too.

“Well guess what you’re not alone cause now you have me” you fell forwards placing your head on his chest. Harry felt his stomach erupt with butterflies at your words. 

You then separate from his chest using his hand to twirl yourself before crashing back into his body his hands falling to your hips making your body feel as if it was on fire. “Can I ask you something, and you can say no” you spoke into his ear softly.

“Ask away” he smiled.

“Can you kiss me” you blurted, and you swore Harry stopped breathing for a moment. 

“What” he stared down at you.

“Look I’m a touch starved girl who has never been kissed, and you are super cute and I want to kiss you” you admitted, and then Harry smirked.

“You think I’m cute” he joked and your cheeks heated up.

“Sorry it was a stupid-” you were cut off by Harry connecting his lips to yours softly. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the heat of his palms radiate across your cheeks. His hands wrapped around your lower back pulling you closer to him, and your hands gripped the material of his shirt your stomach filled with butterflies. The kiss was slow and his lips were soft and gentle against yours. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, but moving your lips against his felt insanely good, and you never wanted to stop. You felt yourself begin to relax moving your hands to wrap around his neck. As you began to get the hang of the kiss it became more heated his tongue swiping your lower lips before slipping inside of your mouth his tongue meeting yours causing a small moan to leave your throat. Your lips then parted from his, your breath heavy as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“How was that” he tilted his head to place small kisses along your jaw causing your eyes to close.

“Amazing” you sighed as his lips met your neck causing heat to go straight to your core making your thighs clench the ache between your legs more intense than it had ever been. Just as your lips were about to meet you heard the door of the pub swing open causing Harry to curse.

“Shit we need to go” he cursed grabbing your hand and whipping you towards the back of the pub. Harry looked around before opening up a cabinet which turned out to not contain food but a tunnel. He ushered you in and then you gripped your hand, as the two of you ran through the tunnel. 

“Harry what's going on” you demanded in a panic.

“Remember the people chasing me, they are in the pub” he explained and you felt your heart drop.

“Were gonna die” you panicked stopping in your tracks. 

“No, we aren’t as long as you stop panicking and run” he squeezed your hand in comfort as the two of you increased your speed. The end of the tunnel led to a small pool of water. “I’m assuming you can’t swim, but you’re going to have to try,” he said before jumping in the water dragging you in with him as you let out a high-pitched yelped as your skin hit the ice-cold water. 

“We need to swim under to get out and be in the river so we can escape I’ll be with you the whole time okay I won’t let go of you I promise” Harry spoke his face mere inches from yours as you shivered. 

“Harry I can’t swim” your teeth chattered as you heard voices from the tunnel.  

“You can do it, I know you're scared but I’ll be with you the whole time” Harry held your cheeks making you look at him, and you nodded. The two of you took a deep breath and Harry dragged you forwards through the water. You kicked your legs as your lungs began to sting in need of oxygen. Harry then pulled you up and gasped for air coughing as the two of you began floating down the river. Harry pulled your body close to his as he dragged the two of you to the side of the river. He pulled himself out as you gripped the ground for dear life your body in shock. Harry then grabbed your hands helping you out of the water. Harry pulled you into his body as you shivered your body soaked your dress heavily.

“You okay,” he asked softly and you nodded into his chest before looking up at him. His hair was flopped onto his forehead the strands dripping water. His white shirt under his vest became see-through as it clung to his skin revealing the tattoos scatter along his arm. “We have to keep moving can you do that” 

“Yeah let's go” 

After about 20 minutes of walking, Harry had the two of you stop to rest. 

“You need to get some rest, I’ll go get some firewood and start a fire okay”

“Please don’t leave me” you whimpered grabbing his hands. You still weren’t sure if you trusted him and you were scared if he left he would never come back. 

“I promise I won’t be far, but your freezing I need to start a fire” 

“Don’t take long okay” you released his hand bringing them close to your body.

“I’ll be back before you know it” he assured before walking away leaving you alone leaning up against a rock your legs in your chest rocking yourself slightly. Although you were terrified this had been the best day of your life. You never wanted to go back to the tower. You slowly shut your eyes when suddenly you felt two hands shaking your shoulder. You smiled thinking it was Harry but your eyes widened when you saw your mother's angry eyes meet yours.

“We are going home right now” your mother gritted through her teeth pulling you onto your feet dragging you forwards.

“No” you whipped your arm from her grip backing away from her.

“Excuse me” your mother seethed.

“I’m not going home, I’m going to see the lights” you stood your ground crossing your arms.

“With that boy” your mother questioned.

“His name is Harry, and he is keeping me safe” you explained and your mother shook her head.

“Oh my sweet naive girl, he’s using you and he’s going to break your heart” she laughed sending chills down your spine. 

“No he’s not, I’m not going back I’m an adult and you can’t control me” you raised your voice.

“When he betrays you, and you're all alone don’t come crying back to me, I warned you Y/n I kept you safe all these years and this is how you repay me” 

“I never asked you to keep me locked in a tower my whole life” you hissed. 

“Don’t come back to me when he leaves you in the dust because that's on you darling, but your right I can’t force you, you obviously don't care about your mother who raised you, fed you, loved you, but I’ll leave you to it” she hissed stalking forwards causing you to stumble backward. 

“I’m not going back” you spat before turning on your heel to go back to the campsite tears falling down your face. You didn’t want Harry to know what happened so you took multiple deep breaths wiping the tears from your eyes as you heard rustling from the bushes to reveal Harry carrying multiple logs. You smiled at him as he placed the wood on the ground igniting the fire with precision before taking a seat next to you. You then looked down at Harry's hand to see a deep cut. 

“What happened to your hand” you gasped inspecting the wound. 

“I cut it on something in the woods I’m okay though” he assured but you shook your head.

“Listen I know this might sound crazy, but I can fix that” you spoke, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What” he questioned.

“Look I know I didn’t tell you, which I did for a reason because it's not normal, and its definitely crazy, but my hair is well” you started not knowing how to explain it. “Magic” you finished your voice cracking a bit.

“Magic”?

“Yeah” you replied unsure of how to explain that when you sing your hair can heal things. 

“Okay I’m glad I got you out of that tower because I think your mom's crazy rubbed off on you” Harry laughed but your face stayed serious.

“I’m serious Harry” 

“Yeah okay,” he rolled his eyes leaving back onto the rock behind him.

“Give me your hand” you demanded and Harry hesitantly put his hand in yours. You took a thick strand of your hair and wrapped it around his hand ignoring the crazy look you were receiving from him, but the look was quickly wiped from his face as you began to hum your hair glowing around his hand. His eyes lit up with awe and bewilderment as you stopped unraveling your hair from his hand to reveal the wound to be gone. 

“How did you do that” he examined his hand.

“I don’t know it just does that” you shrugged. “The other reason my mother never wants me to leave is that she thinks people would use me for my hair and turn me into a science experiment”

“I understand that, but as long as you don't go telling everyone you meet you have,magic hair i think you’d be fine”

“Thats what I tried to tell her but she stood her ground” you shrugged Harrys yes scanning your hair in confusion and amazement.

“That's insane, but also amazing” he stuttered looking at you with soft eyes causing you to look down at your hands as his look made you feel dizzy. You felt his fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up so you would look at him. You turned your head towards him shyly nervous to meet his eyes. “You are the most interesting and beautiful girl I have ever met” you felt your heart flutter heat consuming your body trying to speak, but no words came from your mouth as your eyes flickered from his to his lips. You wanted to kiss him again and you had no idea how to respond to his words you closed the gap between the two of you slamming your lips on his your hands in his hair. He moved his lips against yours his hands shooting to your hips squeezing them slightly. Your hands threaded through his damp hair that was still wet from the river pulling his face as close as you could to yours. Your lips moved against each other fast and full of lust. You felt Harry grip your hips lifting you from the ground onto his pulling you close into his body.

Your body was on fire as you felt Harry's hands slip to your bottom squeezing it causing you to moan into the kiss. The ache between your legs was unbearable. You felt your hips move against him the friction of your heat against his pants causing you to whimper your head falling from the kiss into his shoulder the feeling overwhelming. Harry gripped your hips making you grind against his growing bulge causing him to groan burying his head into your neck sucking and biting causing your head to tilt back as you continued to move your hips. It felt euphoric as his hard length rubbed your clit that you never wanted to stop. 

Harry pulled your head back to his connecting your lips his tongue meeting yours immediately as he picked you up gently placing you on the ground crawling on top of you his thigh between your legs. He disconnected his lips from yours, grinding himself against your core causing you to cry out gripping his back.

“We should stop” he breathed into your neck.

“I don’t want to stop” you whimpered as his hard length pressed against your clit.

“You’ve been locked up in a castle your whole life I don’t want to take advantage of you” he closed his eyes resting his forehead on your stopping his movements causing you to whimper the ache between your legs almost unbearable.

“Harry, I have read so much about sex, I’m not some dumb naive girl who doesn’t know what I’m doing” you spoke and Harry buried his head into your neck. “If you don’t touch me I think I might die” 

“Are you sure you want this Y/n” he pulled his head from your neck looking into your eyes his green ones almost black.

“Harry I want you” you whispered and Harry groaned at your words. You reached your hands to the button of his vest pushing it off. You then helped him remove his shirt revealing his tattooed body. You stared in awe running your finger along with the butterfly in the middle of his chest. Harry then removed himself from the top of you and grabbed your hands helping you stand up. He pulled you into his body for a short kiss his fingers going to untie the corset of your dress. Once it was loose you let it slip down your body leaving you in your panties. Harry lightly touched your exposed skin his hand running down your arm his eyes on your breasts. He then dragged his hand from your lower stomach up to your breasts before moving his head down to take your breast into his mouth causing you to cry out. Harry released his mouth from you with a pop before leading you back to the ground on top of him.

You moved your lips to his grinding your aching core on his hard length causing you to whimper at the friction of your panties on your clit. 

“Can I touch you?” he asked his fingers playing with the hem of your panties.

“If you don’t I’ll touch myself” Harry groaned before flipping you over causing you to gasp. He then slowly peeled your panties down your legs his mouth watering as he got a glimpse of your wet core.

“Fucking hell” he breathed as his middle finger ran down your slit collecting some of your wetness bringing it to his mouth for a taste. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweet juices. “You taste divine,” he said before kissing your lips his finger moving to your throbbing clit. 

“Have you touched yourself before?” he asked rubbing your clit in slow circles teasingly.

“I thought I made it clear I’m not as innocent as you seem to think” you moaned out as he pressed slightly harder.

“I need to get you ready for me, can I put my fingers in” he dragged his lips against your jaw.

“Please” you whined bucking your hips desperate for some kind of friction. You moaned when you felt a finger enter your hole making a come hither motion his finger reaching deeper than yours ever could. You felt him insert another finger stretching you out making you grip his shoulders feeling him smile into your neck. He began moving his fingers in and out. He started slowly your hips grinding into his fingers desperate for the release that was building in your stomach. 

“Faster Harry” you breathed, and he picked up the pace moving his fingers in and out at a pace that had your toes curling as you let out incoherent sentences and his name over and over as the knot in your stomach felt as if it was going to explode.

“Are you close” Harry whispered into your ear his fingers somehow moving faster causing you to scream his name and he laughed into lips.

“I’m going to cum” you moaned your hips thrashing against his fingers as the knot exploded whimpers and cries leaving your mouth as he continued moving his fingers to take you through your high. He didn’t stop until you grabbed his wrist slumping into the ground your heart racing and your breath heavy. Harry pulled his fingers from your heat bringing them to his mouth sucking them clean before kissing your lips. You lazily kissed him back wrapping your arms around his neck as your body came down from the best orgasm you had ever had. You were exhausted bu you refused to be done. You wanted him inside you. You then moved your hands to his belt fumbling with the buckle.

“Are you sure you want to, we can stop now” Harry assured but you shook your head.

“I need you inside of me please” you begged shoving his pants down his legs. You then grabbed his boxers and he helped you take them off his hard length hitting his stomach Harry let out a sigh as you wrapped your small hand around his large length. You werent expecting him to be this big. You swiped your thumb along the slit touching the pre cum that was leaking from the tip causing harry to buck himself into your hands.

“Just go slow okay” you suggested and he nodded taking his member into his hands rubbing it along your slit the both of you moaning out with pleasure.

“If you need me to stop just tell me and I will” you nodded and he slowly inserted the tip stretching you out, even more, causing you to cry out in pleasure and pain as he slowly moved into you filling you up until he was all the way in. You felt so full gripping Harry's back as you adjusted to his size. 

“You are so tight I could come just from this” he moaned out causing you to giggle.

“You can move now just slow,” you told him and he nodded before slowly pulling out then moving back in moaning from the feeling of your wet walls squeezing him. He continued to move his pace staying slow as you bit his shoulder to stop your moans. “You can go faster it feels so good” Harry moaned pushing into faster and harder leaving you whimpering sounds leaving your mouth with no control. 

“God you feel so go baby please tell me you're getting close” he kissed your neck his pace growing more erratic.

“Just don’t stop Harry” you mewled as his hand shot down to start rubbing your clit your body jumping slightly at the stimulation. With the fast circles on your clit and the brutal pace of his thrusts you felt the knot in your stomach tightening quickly your hands flying to his hair pulling his making him groan.

“Please cum I can feel how close you are, I need to feel you come around me” Harry begged his climax coming on faster than he would like. You clenched around him his words sending you into your orgasm your legs shaking and nails scratching down his back as you screamed his name. He kept moving in you until your release was over pulling out using his hand to quickly jerk himself off before his eyes rolled back his muscles went tense and the white string of his cum landed on your stomach as Harry moaned out your name before collapsing forward catching himself with his hands. “Holy shit” he breathed into your neck and you let out a breathy laugh before he flopped down next to you. The two of you laid there for a moment in silence staring at the stars until Harry stood up grabbing a handkerchief from his pants pocket cleaning his cum off your stomach. 

“Thank you” you breathed out feeling euphoric.

“Anytime” he smirked grabbing your hands to help you up. Your legs were a bit wobbly but you used harry to help yourself stand feeling a bit sore between your legs. You then bent down grabbing your panties slipping them back on while Harry put his clothes back on. You then  stepped in your dress pulling it up your body. You then felt Harry's body press against yours from behind kissing your shoulder. You leaned back into his touch closing your eyes. You felt him loosely tie the corset. He then sat down against the rock and you took a seat right next to him his arms pulling you into his chest. You closed your eyes quickly falling to sleep in his warm arms listening to the sound of his soft breath. 

-

The next morning you woke up with your head in Harry's lap feeling his fingers brushing through your hair softly. You slowly sat up and Harry smiled before kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss before pulling away your body sore needing to stretch and move. You slowly stood up the ache between your legs very much prevalent, but you didn’t care.

“Let's get you to the castle to see those lights” he smiled lacing your fingers leading you towards the kingdom. 

The two of you walked for hours your feet aching. When you finally arrived you stared in awe at the castle. The village was beautiful. Harry kept his head down as you crossed the bridge to enter the kingdom.  

“Oh my god Harry this place is amazing” you exclaimed leading him into the main part of town practically skipping with joy. Harry smiled watching your excitement making his heart swell. You were the sweetest person he had ever met, and your happiness managed to rub off on him as your smile caused him to get butterflies. Which slightly terrified him as he had never felt a way towards a woman. He was so used to screwing girls for one night and never seeing them again but her. He never wanted to leave her. Your hair flowed as made your way through the village when three small children stopped you staring at your hair.

“Can we do your hair?” a little girl asked her eyes large.

“Of course” you giggled, and the kids got to work braiding and putting flowers all through your hair. “It’s beautiful” you smiled at the beaming children who were jumping with excitement. You then returned to Harry who had just as big of a smile as you. After exploring the town the sun began to go down and Harry led you to the lake where the lanterns would be. The two of you ducked past the person watching the area with laughter before jumping into the small canoe. Once you were both seated Harry pushed off the deck and used the paddle to take you out to the middle of the lake. As you paddled out lanterns began lighting up the sky floating into the air your eyes wide not wanting to blink taking in everything around you.

“It's more beautiful than I ever imagined” you felt tears begin to prick your eyes not from sadness but from joy. 

“Hey Y/n what's wrong” he shifted towards you placing his right hand on your left cheek using his thumb to wipe the tear falling down your face. 

“Nothing wrong Harry” you assured him placing your hand on his cheeks looking into his eyes that were full of concern. 

“But why are you crying” Harry searched your glossy eyes.

“They're happy tears, every year for my whole life every birthday I would watch the lanterns praying that one day I would be here and now I am, and I have never been happier” Harry’s concern left at her explanation and he felt his eyes fill with tears. He had spent his whole life running, fucking random girls, stealing from people, and for the first time in his life he felt like he had a home with her, and he never wanted to let go. Harry Leaned in pressing their lips together caressing her cheek. She moved her lips against his slowly, and sull of passion. You could taste your tears in the kiss before breaking apart resting your forehead against his before wrapping your arms around him burying your face into his should holding him close as you never wanted to let go. Harry placed his hand on her back rubbing patterns until his heart dropped as he saw the men looking for him outside of the lake. He knew there was no escape this time, and he knew the second you found out he lied to you from the beginning you would hate him. He pulled you from the hug his eyes filled will sorrow swelling up with tears.

“Is everything okay?” you asked him feeling the energy in the room turn from happiness to something that made your stomach clench with anxiety.

“Listen what ever happens just know that I care about you, i’ve spent my whole life running from my feelings and my problems being alone was what i was good at, but now I don’t know how you did it but for the first time I feel like I want to stop running and never leave” Harry confessed as the boat neared the pier of the lake.

“Harry-” you started but were cut off by two large men.

“You’re coming with us Harry the chase is over” one of the men spoke and Harry nodded.

“Harry what's going on, he didn’t do anything why are you doing this” you panicked your heart racing.

“Your little boyfriend here is wanted for stealing from the king and queen, and well from us” the man grabbed Harry yanking him towards him. “We were in it together Harry, but you were selfish wanted it for yourself, well now we will turn you in and get the reward”

“What” your heart sank as everything he told had been a lie. He was one of the bad men. He wasn’t being chased by the bad guys he was a criminal and he used you. 

“Y/n It's not what-” he started

“It's not what it looks like” you gawked at his response. “You lied to me, and you used me to get away with whatever crime you committed by manipulating me” you were so angry all you saw was red. You trusted him and just like your mother said he betrayed you, and now she hated you and you had no one. “I should have listened to my mother” you tried to walk away but one of the men grabbed you. Wrapping your hands in rope tying you to a tree before walking away with Harry leaving you helpless and alone. You could hear Harry begging them to not harm you, to let you go as tears began to flood your eyes as you collapsed to the ground. 

“Y/n” you heard from the bushes your heart fluttering.

“Mother” you cried out.

“I heard them attack you oh sweetheart let's get you out of here” she untied the rope around your wrist. Before following your mother you looked into the distance seeing the men dragging Harry towards the castle. Your heart broke and you ran into your mother's arms sobbing your body falling into hers and you sobbed apologies just wanting your mother. 

-

The way back to the tower was dismal and horrible. You didn’t utter a word as she led you up the stairs back into the tower locking the door. Loki came running towards you jumped into your arms. You carried him to your bed flopping down covering yourself as tears began to fall from your eyes once again. You knew that you had just met Harry but you fell in love with him. You read a lot on true love, and you were skeptical but now you believed it. You spent two days with him and you fell so madly in love with him and he had lied to you and used you just like your  other said he would. You closed your eyes trying to find peace with sleep but it failed. You were terrified of what would happen to him. Your mother had left the house once more to get fresh water. You grabbed the small hanker chief with a sun you had gotten from the village looking at it. It looked oddly familiar, it had also been on all the lanterns. You gazed around the tower your eyes crossing over your painting when it hit you. That same sun is painted in multiple designs all across your home. You squeezed your eyes shut a memory you locked away coming to full sight. 

You were a baby you looked up from your crib to see a man and woman wearing crowns on their head, and it hit you. You felt yourself stumble your hand reaching for your head as you winced your head aching.

You were the lost princess. It all made sense, the lanterns on your birthday, the suns painted all over the walls from your childhood. Your mother wasn't your mother she was the one who took and she was the one using you for your powers. You felt sick to your stomach you ran to the sink vomiting and coughing. You felt as if you would pass out. Your whole life was a lie. You felt your chest get tight as you gasped for air panic filling your body. Your head was spinning as you hyperventilated as tears fell to the floor. You felt numb your limbs tingling as you failed to catch your breath. You dug your fingernails into your palm begging yourself to calm down. You began counting your breaths finally slowing them as your mother walked through the door making you jump.

“Sweetheart what’s wr-”

“How could you” you sobbed. “You lied to me telling me that the outside world would use me for my powers, but that's what you're doing. It was all you, you kidnapped and brainwashed me”

“What are you talking about” she scoffed.

“I’m the lost princess stop lying to me” you screamed.

“Oh, sweetheart I really wish you didn’t figure that out” her smile was evil as she approached you.

“Get away from me” you cried backing into the corner.

“You have nowhere to go, you think that boy will come to save you” she laughed shaking her head. She looked mad and you were terrified of the person you had loved. “He won’t ever be coming back because he won’t be alive much longer”

“What are you talking about, what did you do to him” you pushed off the wall with anger and concern.

“He’s a thief and death is the consequence especially for what he stole” she taunted, and your heart sank.

“No, no, no he can’t die” you ran from the door, but she stopped you.

“You aren’t leaving ever again” she gritted through her teeth before gripping your arm tight enough to leave bruises throwing you onto your bed. “You need sleep, so get some rest” she replied calmly before walking to her bed. You stared in shock your heart pounding your emotions haywire. You felt dizzy and nauseous as panic filled your body again but this time everything went black.

-

When you woke up you moved your legs hearing a jangling sound. You shot up to see you were chained to the floor, a cuff wrapped around your left ankle.

“You can’t do this” you cried pulling on the chain.

“I can and I will so eat up darling” she smiled.

“No I will not eat anything, you will never get me to use my hair again I will never do what you want me to do” you yelled as you shoved her away from you causing her to crash into your mirror. It shattered pieces scattered over the floor.

“Fine have it your way” she seethed grabbing a cloth wrapping it around your mouth to stop you from speaking. 

“Y/n” you heard a yell from outside the tower causing your heart to drop. It was Harry. “Y/n please tell me your okay” you tried to yell through the cloth but it wasn’t nearly loud enough. You knew that he started to climb and when your mother pulled out her knife hiding into the shadows you knew what she was going to do. Harry climbed through the window as you screamed through the cloth trying to warn him but it was too late. She came behind him shoving the knife into his back causing Harry to yelp in pain before falling to the floor as you screamed tears streaming down your face. It felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. The way Harry hit the floor caused you to wince.

“Look what you made me do this is your fault Y/n, and now you have to live with the consequences of not doing what I tell you” she hissed as you collapsed to the ground in defeat. You felt hopeless wondering how everything could have gone so wrong so fast. She kneeled down pealing the cloth from your face.

“I hate you” you shouted sobs leaving your mouth.

“I will never stop trying to get away from you, but I will leave with you and do what you say if you let me save him” you pleaded. You couldn’t let him die you needed to save him and if that meant spending the rest of your life doing what this woman said then that was what you would do.

“Y/n no” Harry groaned and you looked at him.

“I can’t let you die” you whimpered. Your mother looked at you before releasing you from the chain.

“Deal” you stumbled to Harry grabbing your hair and placing it around his wound. Your hands were shaking your hair and your hands red with his blood. 

“Y/n don’t do this” he whispered but you just shook your head. 

“It's okay Harry everything is going to be fine I promise” you smiled through your tears slightly trying to ease his pain. You took a deep breath to begin singing when Harry's arm suddenly launched from the ground slicing your hair causing your mother to cry out. You watched as the hair fell to the floor in shock as your natural hair color turned black. You watched as your mother fell to the ground her skin wrinkling her body withering away until she stopped moving. 

“Oh my god Harry no why did you do that” you cried. “I can still fix this I can” you started to sing through your sobs, but it was no use. You fell into his arms your face crying into his shoulder. “This is all my fault”

“Hey, look at me this isn’t your fault, you are going to be okay” Harry smiled tears running down his cheeks his hand caressing your cheek bringing your forehead to his. “You are the only person who ever made me feel like I was home”

“Please don’t leave me Harry” you begged to try to catch your breath as you panicked. As you felt his body go limp his head fell backward. “Harry please wake up” you sobbed your head falling into his chest as he laid completely still in a pool of his blood. Your hands were covered in blood you quickly wiped them on your dress. “Harry you’re going to be okay you just have to wake up okay, please just open your eyes” your tears fell onto his body as you lay against his chest hyperventilating gripping onto his shirt for dear life. You couldn’t save him and he was dead because of you. You continued to cry until you felt his chest move. You quickly shot up looking down to see your tears traveling towards the wound sealing it. You watched as his chest rose once again before he shot up. You felt your heart stop for a moment before launching yourself on top of him engulfing him into a hug.

“How did you-” he started into the hug confused at how he was even alive. 

“I think I have magic tears” you laughed the feeling of happiness finally filling your body again. 

“God you are amazing” he breathed before connecting his lips to yours pulling you as close as possible.

“Now we get to live happily ever after” 

-

A/n: that took me so long to write and this is definitely my longest fic lmafooooo

[queenofbaws]

Top five horror movies and/or books?

of COURSE you'd ask me one of the HARDEST questions in the WORLD!!!!!!!!

for real though, picking favs when it comes to horror is always so hard for me 😭 (AS ALWAYS WITH ANYTHING HORROR - please be sure to check a site like doesthedogdie for trigger warnings before picking any of these up!!!!!! lots of upsetting stuff in pretty much anything i recommend ever, lol)

house of leaves by mark z. danielewski (book). this one always makes the list because it just...it's just so good. it's a story within a story within a story within a story within a story, and i stg every time i read it i come away with something different. it's influenced my own writing so much, and just...it's literally the ONLY book i've EVER read that scared me so bad while i was reading it the first time that i had to like. find people to sit with to keep reading it lmao

the thing (1982; movie). this one ALSO always makes the list. oh. oh it's so worthy of it too. the thing is just like...my ideal horror movie. it's got everything a good horror movie should have: atmosphere, isolation, slow-growing dread, practical effects, a decapitated spider head monster thing that screams at you. i've probably watched this more than any other horror movie. and speaking of number of watches...........

hereditary (2018; movie). i've seen hereditary once. once. i'm not sure i intend on watching it a second time. maybe someday. there's a lot of horror out there these days that's centered on grief, but in my oh so humble opinion, hereditary is the granddaddy of all those. i cannot explain the emotions i experienced while watching this movie, lmfao. it was like...all of them. i'm pretty desensitized to most horror, and i'm very aware of that, but this movie? this movie right here? i was on the edge of my goddamn seat the whole way through, i watched parts of it through my fingers, and i was squeezing a pillow pretty much from the start to the end. it's so, SO fucking good. but it's also so, SO much.

the ruins by scott smith (book). i read this after watching the movie, and since the movie was kind of ehhh, i expected the book to be kind of ehhh too. it...it is not. BOYYYYY it is not ehhh at all. this book is fucking...terrifying. if you can't stomach body horror, don't even think about reaching for this, it is not FOR you. i LOVE body horror and there were some scenes that felt like they weren't even for ME sdklfjsdklfjd if you haven't seen the movie, or are unfamiliar with the premise, a group of american tourists and one very unfortunate german man find themselves at an old mayan ruin where a bunch of archeologists have recently gone missing. when they get there, uh...well, they find themselves stuck without any way of getting home, but they DON'T find any of the missing people. at first. then they do. then something finds them. it's. intense.

i'm thinking of ending things by iain reid (book). again, i decided to read this after watching the movie. the difference is...i really, really liked the movie, and so had very high expectations for the book. GOD DID IT DELIVER. this one is horror in a...different sort of way, and i'm not even sure everyone out there would classify it AS horror, but for me, it feels appropriate. it's a very personal kind of horror, the horror that comes with loneliness and regret, and a lot of it just really REALLY hit very close to home for me personally. it's absolutely beautifully written, and i think i've probably read it like...three times this past year alone. it's a short read, you can probably do it in one sitting if you've got a lazy day planned, and it's...GOD it's good. you'll probably cry, though, so be warned.

ask me my top 5 anything!

[animeyanderelover]

You’re not being strict at all! Is it okay if I request Kurapika and fluff with prompt 40. “What I am doing? I’m punishing myself. Why? Because I upset you earlier.” Thank you and keep up the good work at your own pace!

🥺💔.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, kidnapping, self-harm, slight violence, strict behavior, controlling behavior, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 40: “What I am doing? I’m punishing myself. Why? Because I upset you earlier.”

He had messed up. He had messed up big this time. What had he been thinking? Why had he said those things to you? It had been almost in his reach if hr wouldn't have been such a jerk. Your love had been almost in his reach after months of impatiently waiting.

You had started coming around, had been more willingly spent time with him, searched for comfort in him as well as protection. He had cherished the moments he had finally been able to hold you in his arms without having to endure your struggles, your screaming and the salty tears which had always fallen down your pretty face.

He could have had it all, he could have spent this evening with you, just being lazy and cuddly with you, maybe reading a book together or just enjoying each other's presence.

But due to his faults it all had turned out differently, with you having locked yourself up in your room and him cowering outside of the house, at the front door to be specific. He just couldn't stand it anymore. For hours your whimpers and cries had now filled the house, torturing Kurapika more than he had expected.

You were in pain because of him and each of your wails had hit him like a rain of bricks. It had simply been unbearable for him, his heart had been in too much pain to stand this anymore. So he had thrown himself out of the house, not wanting to face you for the time being. He guessed his face was most likely the last thing you wanted to see right now, the still lingering burning feeling on his cheek being a dreadful reminder of it.

But even outside, guarding still over you, he didn't seem to be safe from you and your haunting weepings, almost echoing through the silent and chilly air of the forest. Why were you still crying? Why hadn't you stopped yet? Hadn't he promised to keep you safe from any sort of pain? Hadn't he been the one who had wanted to adore you like no other and give you the same fuzzy and amazing feeling you always gave him?

But he had broken that promise, he had hurt the one person he loved more than anything else. How could he? He didn't have the right to call himself your protector. And the worst was that he was too much of a coward to even face you right now, to at least try to comfort you.

He hadn't even apologized to you, you had just screamed at him to leave...and he had. Without turning back, without muttering a word. He had just left you mourning lonely in your room. What had you screamed after him when he had done this?

"Come back here! A-Apologize to me! Please...Kurapika!"

He had ignored your pleas, hadn't found the courage in himself to turn around, to give you a hug and apologize to you like you had begged. You hadn't wanted him to leave, you had recently become a bit jumpy with everything around you. You needed him. And he had known it, so why?"

"You're such a horrible liar. You promised to not leave me...You're truly a cold-hearted monster...Well, they say what you hunt and kill, you become. You're no better than them."

He was, wasn't he? He couldn't get these words out of his head, your trembling voice, the audible hurt and feeling of betrayal in it. When exactly had he sunken this low? Had he really...? He couldn't believe that you had compared him to them, the criminals he had been hunting down for years now. Normally he might had gotten angry at you, but not this time. Your words had striked a vulnerable soft spot in his heart and he remembered he had frozen when he had heard these words before rushing away. He hadn't wanted to show you his tears.

It hurt...Someone make it stop. The painful squeezing in his heart, the non-stopping tears flowing down his face, your cries which he seemed to hyper-aware of. His head was pounding, the blood feeing like it was kicking him. It was too much. "Stop this." He pressed his hands over his ears, ripping on his hair whilst doing so. The pain didn't even seem to register itself in his mind, there was simply no place for it anymore. "Please make it all stop. No more. I can't stand this. I hate it."

How much time had passed by? You didn't know, there was no clock in your room. But judging from the fact that it was already dark outside, inky darkness being your only comrade in the killing silence, a lot of hours must have passed by. And he still hadn't come to apologize.

You felt betrayed by this, you had layed hours crying in your bed, waiting for him, to hear footsteps walking up the stairs and him just taking you in his loving embrace and apologizing to you for what he had said.

You knew he hadn't meant it, he had obviously been stressed out by something, his eyes having given his emotions away. Granted, he might have overeacted a bit when you had tried to make him relax, ending with him spitting some really mean words at you.

"What do you understand about me?! You don't know anything!"

"Don't interfere with my business! If it wouldn't be for me, you would have been completely helpless! You're nothing without me!"

If he would have yelled this at you a few weeks ago, you would have snapped back at him. But now these words had hit so differently and you knew why. You had started gaining feelings for him, you had always feared that you would start developing Stockholm syndrome some day.

Back then you had told yourself you would fight it with all your mind, but instead of this you had just given in. You didn't know why. Maybe because both of you had been tired from the constant fights and arguments. All you wanted to live was a peaceful and happy life, just like him. And recently you had started feeling happy again, after you had realized your feelings. And he had been glad too, shown you much more love and care due to you not fighting back anymore. You knew that this was wrong and you would never get your freedom back. But if it meant that you could finally find a way out of your misery, you would accept it. What was so wrong with wanting to be happy, even if it was just an illusion?

You couldn't sleep despite your eyelids feeing like stones. As soon as you closed them, imagines of the fight earlier started to flash before your eyes. You had slapped him, you couldn't believe that you had done it. Sure, you had been agitated and had done it a lot of times before, but the moment you had seen Kurapika's confused and shocked face, hurt flashing his eyes, you had felt like you had just received a slap in your face as well.

Why had this to happen right now, after everything had finally started to feel better? Wy had destiny to be so cruel? All you wanted was storming to the blonde and make him apologize and afterwards dragging him to bed so you two could just savor the closeness to each other. That's all you wanted, it was so cold without his warm body pressed against yours, not to mention the loneliness. You felt empty in that moment, laying quiescent under the blankets, heart heavy and eyes burning from all the spilled tears, the sound of heavy rain outside being the only thing disturbing the silence.

You turned around a bit, staring with saddened eyes at the spot where he would have been by now. But you were only greeted with emptiness, not with warm and lovingly grey eyes which you longed to gaze into right now. You wanted this whole stupid thing to end right now, imagining very well that Kurapika was suffering currently as well. And if he wasn't the one who would prove to have the courage to do the first step, you would do it. Finding him surely couldn't be hard, he was most likely lingering somewhere in the house, hunching somewhere down and feeling terrible about what had happened.

The storm had gotten worse, but Kurapika was barely able to recognize anything around him right now. He was too deep caught in his own emotions and thoughts to even acknowledge it. He didn't realize the cold and chilly air which caused chills and goosebumps to appear anywhere on his body nor that he had started to tremble, the coldness stinging like a million tiny needles. Not even the wind who whipped the water painfully against his face, he did not realize and even if he would have, he wouldn't have cared. The only thing that had been stuck in his mind for the last few hours had been one and only one thing. "(y/n)."

"Kurapika...?" It was barely above a whisper, the wind threatening to carry the small sound far, far awy without Kurapika even hearing it. But he did, he had longed to hear this voice more than anything for a long time, calling his name softly out like this. He tensed up slightly and yet his body seemed to somehow relax as well when hearing the lovely melody of your voice, gifting him a warm tingling in his freezing body. He slowly turned around, tracing his eyes over your shocked form, standing in the doorframe. And for the first time this day, he managed to crack a small smile upon seeing you. It was tired and exhausted, but still a sincere one. "You shouldn't be outside here (y/n). It's very cold. Go back inside."

You didn't listen to him, instead staring with wide eyes at him. He was soaked from head to toe, standing in the center of the storm and being mercilessly hit from the lashing wind and the cold water. His lips had turned a slightly blue shade and it was obvious from the way he was shaking that he was freezing to death out here. He appeared to be exhausted and his voice sounded hoarse, dark circles around his eyes who were glowing in a dull red, having lost the normal flames burning inside of them. It was the first time you had ever seen him this done.

What was he doing here?! Had he been all this time outside, enduring the slaps of the storm?! "What are you doing here?" You looked like you were in absolute disbelief, not understanding why he would risk getting sick and catching a terrible cold when there had been the choice of just going inside in the warmth again. But he had somehow locked himself out of the house, you not getting why he would do this.

"What I am doing?" His face twisted shortly into a pained expression before he quickly overwrote it with a strained smile, saddness still radiating off from it. "Isn't it obvious?" It was, you somehow had a solid guess what all of this was about, but you hoped you might be wrong about it. But your hopes were erased when he said his next sentence. "I'm punishing myself."

No. Please everything, but this. "W-why?", you managed to croak out, tearing up once again when seeing him in his currently pathetic condition. All this just to punish himself? He couldn't be srious! "Why? Because I upset you earlier."

If it wouldn't have been for the sounds of thunder, splashing rain and whistling wind, you were sure the silence would have been a too heavy burden for you to carry in that moment. It only lasted a few moments, but for you and him it felt like a whole eternity. He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing one of his hands through his wet hair. "You shouldn't waste your time with me. Please go back to bed. It's already very late. You should sleep."

"No...not without you." Four small words, spoken in a quiet voice yet they hit Kurapika with unexpected lot of force, worsening his current headache even more and making him once again dizzy, but this time not only negatively. "What?" His voice was quivering, Kurapika feeling his vision blurry even more due to tearing up once again after he had thought he had wasted all his tears the last few hours.

"Come back inside Kurapika. Let's talk about it. You...We don't have to do it this way. Look, I'm sorry for annoying you earlier and hitting you. I should have given you space. I-I don't want this silent treatment anymore. Please just apologize as well and go back inside. Let's forget this incident. Okay?" You wanted to move outside and walk to him, but his sudden demand made you halt.

"Stay there! Please..." He was thankful for the heavy rain who had smeared his face all over with it's cold liquid. It made it nearly impossible for you to differ raindrops from his real tears. "Why would you apologize to me? You didn't do anything wrong. Whatever you did, I deserved it. You should have slapped me more if I'm being honest. I'm the one who was wrong. I-I'm sorry. All I really want is to protect you, but maybe you are right. Maybe I am just like them. Maybe you aren't safe because I'm a threat to you as well. I'm terrible, aren't I?"

He was cruelly mocking himself by now, feeling worthless. He hadn't been able to protect his clan and apparently he wasn't even able to protect you from himself either. Was this how he was supposed to live? Alone with the knowledge that he couldn't protect anyone?

"Prove it to me then." He gave you a mildly confused look. Proving what? "Show me you are sorry by coming back. I don't care if you see yourself as a monster. Granted, I saw you for a long time as some sort of demon as well. You took me away from everything and everyone I loved. I still hate you a bit for that. But...but if you don't stop all of this instantly and get inside, that makes you in my eyes indeed a terrible person!"

Never once before Kurapika had ever considered the thought whether he deserved you or not. But he couldn't help, but feel like he didn't in this moment. He had hurt you, you had cried because of him for hours and yet...you...you...

"Promise me you won't do something like this again. That's all I need. Just do it for me." You were pleading him, eyes holding the pain of a person who wanted someone else back by their side. You wanted him back. How could he say no?

Trying to wipe away his tears wasn't very useful, they just streamed down his face as soon as he had removed them with his damp sleeves. "I promise. It won't happen again."

He barely managed to walk straight through you, hours in the cold had gifted him with a terrible headache and constant waves of dizzyness, leading him to collapsing right in your arms as soon as you had successfully brought him inside again.

"Kurapika! Are you fine?! What am I saying, of course you're not! Wait, let me help you!" Walking up the stairs seemed to be too much for you now, he was too heavy and you were scared both of you might end up falling down. So you settled for the nextbest option. The couch, where you quickly threw all the blankets over him you had.

"I'll be right back! I'll just get some towels and new clothes! Do you want some hot tea? I can make some hot tea for you if you want too! A hot-water bottle sounds like a good idea too! I'll make you one! Maybe also-"

Your hasty talking was interrupted when you felt him suddenly tugging you back to his side, slowly sitting up and burrying his head in your chest. You were flustered by his sudden clingyness. "Kurapika? What's wrong?"

"I don't need towels, new clothes, hot tea or a hot-watter bottle. I don't want it either." His voice was slightly muffled, the vibrations tickling you a bit. He sounded really drowsy and exhausted, but still seemed to possess enough strenght to successfully pull you down so that you were sitting right next to him.

"The only thing I truly need and want right now is you. Stay with me. Don't leave me. Please never leave me. If I have you, that's enough. Then I don't need anything else."

[crazy-loca-blog]

Disclaimer: Please note I’m neither a psychologist, nor a psychiatrist nor an expert in mental health. Everything I’m writing here is based on some reading I’m currently doing on this topic and on some personal experiences.

Even though I’m really, really happy and my heart is exploding because most of the LIs FINALLY stopped treating our MC as a friend and began to treat them publicly as a significant other (because you’ve deserved it for a long, long time guys!), I know that those people who are romancing Ethan are actually hurt and mad because he seems to be pushing our MC away AGAIN. But what if I told you I’m beginning to see this as canon for him? Like he’s actually not pushing the MC away because he wants to but because he is showing a part of his personality or something that is a result of his experiences as a kid instead?

A few days ago, I found a psychology article about attachment and how self-sufficiency can be very negative when taken to the extreme. For some reason, the article really stuck with me because I had never heard something like that and because I might have felt that some of the stuff on it represented me, to the point that I talked to some psychologist friends because I wanted to know more about it. And after reading the latest Open Heart chapter, I couldn’t stop wondering “what if this is the actual reason why Ethan seems to be pushing the MC away? What if he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing?”

These are some excerpts from the article (the original one is in Spanish):

“Being excessively independent and self-sufficient is a sign of having suffered great disappointments, to the point that we feel that we cannot trust anyone but ourselves.”

Sounds familiar? Another one:

“[…] when we show ourselves to be hyper-independent -and we don’t resort to the help of third parties- we are actually revealing something deeper. Some defense mechanism to protect us against the eventual possibility of rejection, damage or suffering.”

And what do you think of this longer one?

“[…] as adults, [these children] stick with their careers and what they feel they can control. Deep and intimate relationships turn into threats. Being vulnerable is not an option, because if they are rejected […] they may find the loneliness they know well. When they grow up, people who create bonds from avoidant attachment find it difficult to recognize their own needs. They are extremely independent, they can do everything on their own, but they really fear not being good enough for others, and ultimately they fear rejection. They are adaptive people, who can even be very successful in a society, but when it comes to intimate relationships, it is difficult for them to overcome those barriers.”

And a bonus, just because I can’t leave this out:

“This hyper independence can be linked to traumatic situations, even unconsciously. These experiences can translate into greater difficulty when setting up a couple project or a work project, or when committing to someone or something. Because of course, committing also means showing yourself vulnerable.”

Did you read them all? These quotes have the name Ethan Ramsey written all over the place! All of them are from professional psychologists who based their opinions on the Maturational Processes and the Facilitating Environment: Studies in the Theory of Emotional Development by Donald Winnicott and on the Theory of Attachment by John Bowlby. Based on this theory, Ethan would be an avoidant attachment type of person. In very simple words, he is “someone who […] often sees himself as independent and able to ‘go it alone’. He often maintains strict boundaries, can be emotionally distant, and has a hard time opening up to their partners or making and keeping close relationships.”

So based on all of this, I think Ethan may not even notice that he’s pushing the MC away because that’s part of who he is. He is so used to solve everything by himself, to be independent and to not rely on anyone when he has a problem (because that’s how he has managed to survive all of his life), that even though the MC constantly tells him that he’s not alone anymore he has trouble processing the message. The fact that he is also an only child may have even helped to exacerbate this behavior because, as he has no siblings, he had no choice but to deal with things by himself (and here I’m talking from the experience, I was an only child until I was 14 and I left my parents’ home right after turning 18, so you can tell I know a thing or two about growing up on your own).

His relationship with his dad also had an effect on him. Alan even described Ethan as a perfect son for a single parent. He always did his homework, helped at home and worked during summer. And he even said he didn’t have to motivate Ethan to do anything, that he did all of that by himself. But then the article says: “Parents who generate avoidant attachments with their children are mostly caregivers who are not fully emotionally available to them and therefore are concerned that they function from autonomy. That makes the child act in a certain way, to try to attract or to please those unavailable dads.” So what if Ethan did all of this not only because he wanted to do it, but also because he was involuntarily trying to please his dad? The article adds: “It is not a lack of love [from the parents]; it has to do with the caregivers having difficulties on terms of affective connection, so these children learn to adapt and be complacent.”

Should we also analyze Ethan’s social skills? We all know he hates parties and having to socialize could be a nightmare for him. Do you remember that he became friends with Dolores just because she kept in touch with him and she was the one who invited him to have a coffee? Or how Naveen took him under his wing not only as his mentee, but also as his putative son and friend? Or more recently… have you ever noticed how he basically never mingles with our friends, especially in book 3? Have you ever seen him at Donahue’s talking to anyone but the MC and Reggie? Did you notice that during Ines’ wedding he wasn’t with Harper and Tobias, with Naveen or with Baz? He is always by himself!

Let’s move on to his romantic relationships. Besides the MC, the only relationship we know about is with Harper. Have you ever wondered how their relationship was? For some reason, I’ve always felt it wasn’t as serious for him (we don’t have her side of the story). Sure, he cares about her a lot, but he never loved her, even though they dated for a long time. In fact, when I hear him talking about his relationship with Harper, I kind of feel like the only reason they were dating was to keep each other company. Did they have plans as a couple? Did they ever live together? Did they meet each other families? Did they ever talk about marriage? Did he ever tell her he loved her? I have too many questions, but for some reason I think the answer to all of them is “no”.

Finally, have you noticed how focused he is on his job? And please let’s forget about Ethan in book 3 because we all know the MC is solving every single case… I mean… he must have been an intern or a resident when he wrote his book! Let’s also remember how he was obsessed with diagnosing Naveen in book 1 or how in book 2 he focused himself on helping as many patients as possible before Edenbrook’s closure. Of course, let’s add that the man is a perfectionist as well (do you remember when he was mortified and ashamed for misdiagnosing a patient ONCE?).

So yeah, I’m beginning to think that all of this is not about Ethan being mean to the MC and repeating the same story over and over again on purpose. Instead, I think it has to do with his personality as a character and with his childhood experiences. But of course, we all know there is no way that PB makes any reference to this, I just needed to get it off my chest (and to stay awake until 5:30 am writing this) because when I connected everything I was like "OMG!" 🤯

Where can you find more info about this topic?

https://bit.ly/3toNBaA (this one in Spanish, but Google Translator might help you to understand it)

https://bit.ly/33qmbGP (this one is in English)

[ofieugogyshz]

1, 2, 9, 35 for the writer ask?

asks from here!

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

usually default/tnr until I've only been writing in that and/ or have read thru something so much that a font change is the only way to handle it. and even then i try to pick a clean, even font, nothing with big spacing or too thin or wide, but one that's a little less used than arial

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

i mean, yeah, i could. it would be frustrating though bc i got so used to my typing speed being faster than my thoughts so writing would be very annoying very quickly. but i started out writing that way until i found out i could type it up on the computer (remember, i'm 31, so this was late 90s/early 2000s and individually owned computers weren't common back then. house/shared computers or none at all. if my dad wasn't such a techie macintosh fanboy i wouldn't have eventually had one as the sole user by junior high. and back then it was for games lol)

i have also handwritten scenes or parts of story on paper in recent years because i was stuck at work with ideas lmao. it just feels like weird texture some days or i forget how to comfortably hold a writing utensil for a longer period of time. so i've somehow come to hate the texture/hand-position parts of physical writing. something that never used to happen until after hours on end of writing.

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

all of them /jk i dont remember any of them anymore. but stuff like "don't start with a preposition", s/v/o requirement for complete sentences (or whatever it was), or the more mundane essay rule of 5 sentences = paragraph. just. it's all whatever man. find what works for you by finding what you like in books. whatever makes you happiest as a reader, i see no reason to NOT emulate it in writing? unless, like, it's a bunch of poorly used rules/lack of rules.

but ultimately i've never been a "by the books" writer that school tries to drill into you bc i've always known how to start with prepositions in an effective way. or whatever that one was about the -ly verbs. fuck man idk grammar/writing rules was the one thing i hated bc i cba to remember all this shit.

also, i think "write what you know" should be limited to specific contexts, like social struggles and not like, anything you couldn't realistically do anyways without years of study or some several bits of luck. otherwise, i'd never get to write about anything except being hyper and broke and lacking the immense enrichment i needed as a kid with adHd so i wouldnt feel so frustrated all the time. H emphasized for extreme hyperness.

it could make for an interesting read in a very very niche group, but it means i could never write about fantasy things or being in love or having the support that i lacked in many pages of my life. couldn't be able to heal my child self and get over things if it meant i had to stuck to what i knew, because what i've known most of my life is extreme loneliness and a very little, practically non-existent support network.

[thefuturelawyer]

Tag 9 People to Learn about Their Interests!

Thank you so much for the tag @study-van!!

MUSIC

Favourite genre?

To be honest it changes a lot, I listen to almost any genre

Favourite song?

I have been listening a lot to old Turkish pop lately and the most favourite has been Athena's Arsız Gönül

Most listened song recently?

Money Honey by Lady Gaga

Song currently stuck in your head?

Gülşen's Ne kavgam bitti ne sevdam

5 fave lyrics?

Çiçeklerim dökülür her mevsim Sonra yeniden açar Ümidimin boynu bükülür Sonra deniz bin defa taşar (my flowers pour out every season, then blossom again, my hope discourages, then the sea overflows 1000 times) Gülşen-Ne kavgam bitti ne sevdam

Bırak, tutma beni, Kaybetsem de üzülmem asla, Ne boş kaygıların, Korkma bana hiçbir şey olmaz (Let me go, Don't hold me, Even though i lose i won't feel sad, How empty are your worries, Don't worry nothing will happen to me) Athena-Ben böyleyim

Уезжаешь не спать. Уезжаешь и пусть. AMORE, море помнит все наизусть. Разучусь целовать и когда-то вернусь. Сказать, что море, море я остаюсь... (You're leaving to not to sleep. You're leaving, alright, it's okay. AMORE, the sea remembers everything by heart. I'm gonna forget how to kiss and someday I'll get back To tell the sea: sea, I am to stay..) Mari Kraymbreri-AMORE

A better way to make a wave, stop defendin' them, Kendrick Lamar-LOYALTY

Kurtarma beni pişmanlıktan, Belki hoşlanırım taşlanmaktan, Ömrüm yasaklarla paslandıkça, Gördüm beteri yok uslanmaktan (Don’t save me from regret, Maybe to be stoned is pleasure to me, While my life was rusting with restrictions, i saw that nothing could be worse than settling down) Nova Norda-Beteri Yok Uslanmaktan

Pick

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

Favourite book series?

The Adventures of Miss Defne Kaman by Buket Uzuner

Comfort book?

F. S. Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Favourite book?

It really depends on my mood, but currently A Tale of Two Cities by Dickson

Perfect book to read on a rainy day?

Anything by Stefan Zweig

Favourite character?

Crowley from the Good Omens

5 favourite quotes from your favourite book(s) that you know by heart?

“You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.”― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

“Büyük bir hürriyet, tabii büyük bir yalnızlıktır.”(A big freedom, of course, is a big loneliness)― Buket Uzuner, Kumral Ada Mavi Tuna (Mediterranean Waltz)

“Formerly person had only a body and a soul. Now also needs a passport as well for without it, will not be treated like a human being.”― Stefan Zweig, The World of Yesterday

“The future came and went in the mildly discouraging way that futures do.”― Neil Gaiman, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch

“When you have to fight for an existence, fighting can become an existence.”― Sara Ahmed, Living a Feminist Life

Pick!

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

Favourite tv/movie genre?

Criminals

Comfort movie?

Ölümlü Dünya

Movie you watch every year?

Ölümlü dünya

Favourite movie?

I really like Ölümlü Dünya but other than that The Plagues of Breslau is pretty great

Favourite tv show?

Criminal Minds, Masum, Black Earth Rising and Harlan Coben's Safe

Comfort tv show?

Modern Family and Şahsiyet

Most rewatched tv show?

I think either Modern Family or Ufak Tefek Cinayetler

5 fave characters?

Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds

Ellie Miller, Broadchurch

Gloria, Modern Family

Poe Dameron, Star Wars

Penelope Featherington, Bridgertons

Pick!

tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons(22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half-hour or one-hour-long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

And I will be tagging @problematicprocrastinator, @mybasementstudentworld, @kimvibes, @lokilowkeysus, @notawriter, @intriquette-studies, @mymessystudyblr, @lostlibrariangirl, @astarcalledeye

[the960writers]

I posted 3.580 times in 2021

137 posts created (4%)

3443 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 25.1 posts.

I added 1.265 tags in 2021

#inspiration - 362 posts

#writing advice - 159 posts

#tea - 126 posts

#characters - 121 posts

#coffee - 115 posts

#flowers - 104 posts

#plotting - 88 posts

#ao3 - 70 posts

#history - 61 posts

#structure - 59 posts

Longest Tag: 85 characters

#i remember the days when google was all about don't be evil. those days are long gone

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

The Internet's best write-reward system! Write one hundred words, get an image of a kitten!

Check out this fun little site! You write in the text box and every 100 words, it’ll show you an image of a cute kitten. Isn’t that wonderful?

Let’s see how many kittens you can get.

93 notes • Posted 2021-03-24 21:24:59 GMT

#4

A recent post I reblogged went something like "Embrace good enough with your writing" and I see your tags on reblogs like #HAHA, #hello crippling perfectionism, #I wish I could

And, yes, I know, I see you. But let me give you my mantra that keeps my perfectionism and self-doubt at bay:

Am I curing cancer? Is somebody going to die if this isn't perfect? No? Well, then:

Fuck it, it's only a story.

108 notes • Posted 2021-03-31 08:54:44 GMT

#3

What is discovery writing (sometimes known as pantsing)? How can you write a novel with structure if you don't plot in advance? How can you build a writing career for the long-term? All this and more with Patricia McLinn.

OMG this interview was such a reassuring revelation!

Let me show you my favorite part, there’s a transcript by the way if you don’t want to listen to the interview:

Patricia: I'll tell you the truth. I had tried plotting three separate times and each time I lost a book. Well, two times. One time I finally regained the book. But it was partly I guess squirrel mind or my mind said, ‘Okay. You got a plot? You told that story. Let's go do something else.'

We know how that one turns out. And the only way I think you really learn your process is by doing, and I also think your process tweaks and grows with you. So you're constantly watching it a little bit and playing with things.

Joanna: I know what you mean as well. I think you lose the fun when you say lost a book there. I know what you mean. If I knew everything that happened, I'd be bored.

This is exactly why I can’t outline! I keep looking at methods and structures and whenever I try to do this, I get so bored and annoyed at the story that it dies right there. Both authors in this interview have some interesting things to say about their writing process, retroactive outlines and structure. I felt so much better with my messy process after hearing this interview.

122 notes • Posted 2021-06-08 17:38:55 GMT

#2

“The Heroine’s Journey” by Gail Carriger

I’ve finished Gail Carriger’s writing-craft-book “The Heroine’s Journey” today and what a revelation it has been. This book gave me so much insight in what kind of stories I write and why I’m currently so terribly stuck on that one WIP.

In short: The Hero’s Journey is about the solo hero, it’s a story of loneliness and revenge. The Heroine’s Journey is a story about connection, about building a network, a family succeeding by helping each other. (The terms Hero/Heroine have nothing to do with the gender of the protagonist by the way.)

Now in the fanfic I’m currently writing, the source story calls for a heroic moment of self sacrifice (which isn’t really one because the player character survives of course) and I have been struggling so much with the build-up to this moment. (Why oh why do I put so much writing energy in a retelling? Who asked for this?)

As I read Gail’s book, I finally realized why I had so much trouble. I was trying to cram a Hero story into a Heroine’s Journey and it just didn’t fit. My guy has been smacking people over the head for 28 chapters to get everyone together and overcome prejudice and religious bs to save the world, and here I am, trying to get him to abandon everything for some stupid hero moment. No wonder it didn’t work.

I’m thoroughly recommending this book, especially for writers who write stories with “found family”, “the gang gets together”, “me and my friends gonna kick your ass”,  and that sort of thing. You know what I mean? That shit we love? That’s the Heroine’s Journey.

138 notes • Posted 2021-03-02 21:15:45 GMT

#1

Hi there! I made the mistake of going to uni for a degree in creative writing, only to find out a little too late that turning my passion into a career was the wrong choice for me. My experiences in uni have ruined my love for writing. I struggle to write so much as a journal entry nowadays, let alone a full-fledged story! Do you think there's a chance I'll ever love writing again? I miss it, but failing uni shook me to my core.

Man, I was in Uni for engineering and by all things holy did I ever hate writing after that. Just because I had to write so much for it. Took me 20 years to start again.

Take a break. Really, it's fine. Writing isn't the only fun thing you can do with your time. Read books, take up knitting, mountain climbing, off road bicycling, bird watching, travel.

I don't mean this in a dismissive way, I really mean it. Don't force yourself to write, put writing aside and do something else. Life is all about learning new things, about making life experiences. See the world around you with new eyes, read and hear new stories.

One day the joy in creating words will come back, even if it takes 20 years. Give it time.

260 notes • Posted 2021-01-10 10:51:44 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[hes-writer]

Better Half (2)

Summary: Y/N is pregnant and Harry is not ready

Warnings: just angst 

Word Count: 2405 words

A/N: o god it’s been a long time. but here you go! i’m a bit rusty so please be kind <3  if you like it, let me know : D

It was hard enough for Y/N to accept Harry’s complete rejection of her pregnancy, but it was even worse seeing him walk away only to fly miles and miles apart from their little ‘family’. It had only been a few days since he had left and Y/N couldn’t help but let complete loneliness encompass every aspect of her life. 

He somehow managed to integrate himself from work, to school, to her family home, and being the love of her life--it wasn’t easy erasing his lingering presence completely, especially when mutual friends cluelessly asked her about his well-beings. Y/N hadn’t told anyone else about her state, but it would probably be out in the open soon enough in case the paparazzi caught pictures of her leaving the clinic. 

What she still could not grasp was his blatant decision to leave. It wasn’t like Y/N trapped him into having a baby--at least, she didn’t think so. Harry and Y/N talked about their future on late nights, while the lights were turned off and the only light illuminating them was the moon. They conversed about the prospect of their future; what they wanted at the moment and what they wanted later on. She missed those times when everything seemed to pass along delicately, where every second spent together would be a gust of pure and utter happiness. Y/N thought she took that for granted. 

----

Y/N knew that she had to move on, especially since she had yet to receive a message from him. She was stuck at home reading the basics of what not to do while pregnant, trying to wrap her mind around the minuscule details that could affect their baby. Somehow, she still found herself drifting to thoughts of him; what would they be doing now if he responded the way she thought he would? Would she be wrapped in his arms, his chin digging gently into her shoulder while his ring-clad hands covered the small bump on her body? Would he be double-checking every single thing she ate to make sure that it was good for the development of their baby?

Y/N sighed in the empty living room, her legs curling towards her body to keep warm, the blanket barely doing its job. Her laptop dimmed in brightness, signifying that she hadn’t scrolled in a while.

She realized she had to move on and go forward, but how was she supposed to do that? When everything she knew was him. Harry was a staple part of her life and they were together for quite a long time. Right now, it seemed as if she had no idea who he was anymore. His once caring nature that she was delighted with for the time they were together vanished into thin air. Harry wasn’t the same Harry and Y/N had no idea why. She didn’t know what she did to make him this way. 

She still loved him--that was no question-- but she had to love herself more. Still, it was hard to let go. Y/N never expected to be alone when she became pregnant. She just wanted an answer to the million questions buzzing in her head. How was she supposed to pull herself back together?

---

“Are we going to talk about this?” Y/N questioned frustratedly through the phone speaker. “I have to know if you want to be a part of this,”

The phone beeped, signaling that she had used up the minutes of leaving a message in his voicemail. For the past two months, Y/N received nothing from him, apart from the surprising addition to her bank account. Y/N knew that it was Harry’s way of being there for her, but it left a bitter taste in her tongue because she didn’t want money from him--she would find a way to figure out the expenses. She just wanted him to be there. His presence was something she craved for the past two months, yet he didn’t cave to her pleas. 

She was sick and tired of reading an ‘I’m busy’ response flash through her phone screen; so so sick of having to be redirected to voicemail when wanting to speak to him about something urgent. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised though, she hasn’t heard his voice when it was directed only to her. His interviews showcased a very happy Harry and although she should be glad that he wasn’t down in the dumps (like she was), Y/N was scowling at his brightly gleaming face for not sparing a few minutes for his girlfriend. Can she even call herself that?

Her eyes welled up with tears of frustration, hands just about to rip the wispy strands of hair floating near her hairline. Why couldn’t he talk to her? She wanted to know if he wished for her to send the ultrasound pictures to him. Y/N repeatedly asked herself if she should journal her experiences and send it to him--just so he could at least have the minimum compliance with this whole thing. Should she tell him about what the doctor told her? How their little baby was slowly growing features that she cannot wait to see-- if they looked more like her or Harry. Does he have the right to know what was happening to her body? Day by day, her breasts become tender; her back a little achier. And her emotions heightened to an extent where she cried about the little things that he used to do around their home. 

----

“The doctor said I have to keep a healthy diet to nourish our baby, H” Y/N’s voice drifted through the grand hotel room suite that Harry had been staying in for the past couple days. These rooms started to blur together recently, not much difference held the four walls except the city he was in. “It would be easier if you were here, you know? Would probably force me to eat my veggies,” Y/N chuckled jokingly, but Harry could sense a sadness in her undertone.

He frowned at her statement but chuckled softly just the same. She was prone to late-night snacking. The voicemail ends and another one begins. Harry shifted his back on the rough pillowcase. 

“Hey Harry,” He sat up at the sudden change in her tone. “I don’t know if you even listen to these but if I sound sick right now,” She coughed, “It’s because I am.”

Harry could feel worry bubbling up in his tummy. His instincts telling him to book the next flight home and take care of her. With a quick glance at the timestamp of the voice note, he deflated seeing that it was sent about a week ago.

“Morning sickness is a bitch. I just puked my guts out and now I’m craving pickles,” A loud thud sounded with Y/N’s little, “Oop, I dropped my pickle.” Beep.

He giggled at her clumsiness, his nimble fingers rubbing at his tired eyelids. It had been a long day of shooting for him for his new music video, but his brain couldn’t seem to shut off despite his body protesting for sleep. So, he stayed on his phone, tapping through his apps and finally facing the reality he consciously avoided. His thumb pressed on the next voicemail from five days ago. 

The first thing he heard was a sniffle, making his eyebrows shoot up to his forehead, “I-i miss you a lot, Harry. And I hope that you miss me too.”

Of course he missed her. 

“Or not, that’s okay too. Unless…?” She prolonged the last syllable, a remnant of hope dwindling in her tone. 

Beep.

He bit his lip, gnawing at the skin while switching to the second of the last voicemail. This one was from three days ago.

“I really hope you didn’t listen to that last note,” Y/N stated timidly, “My emotions are all over the place right now. Did you know I cried over the water not being hot enough for my bath?”

“It sucked a lot, but it did eventually. You know, turn hotter,” Harry smiled at the thought of her being so passionate about her bath taking. She mixed the right bath salts and foams so that it smelled so heavenly-- he couldn’t help but join in too. “Hmmm,” 

He could just imagine her cute face pulling into a thoughtful look, lips pursing in a slight pout while she gathered the words for her thoughts. “I’m almost in my fourth month now,”

Harry nodded along with her as if she was right beside him, “Can’t believe it’s been that long since…” Y/N drifted off as realization hit her. “Since I told you,”

He gulped, shame filling the inside of his body. “B-but that means I can find out the gender of our baby soon!” He winced, the pain in her voice was evident. He knew that she wished for him to be there, but something was holding him back from owning up to the result of his actions. His breath got caught in his throat as he realized just how close she was to giving birth to his child. Well, not close but still close. 

Beep.

“I met someone,” Y/N started. “I met him a while ago and I was debating on whether to tell you, so here I am. I still love you, I always will but I think that..” She choked slightly, “I think that it would be best if we broke up, officially. I don’t know what we’ve been for these couple months but it didn’t feel like we were in a relationship, H.” The message was from a day ago.

He breathed deeply. “I think that we ended when you decided to leave.” Harry agreed with her, the hairs on his neck standing up, giving a foreshadowing shiver to blow through his body. “I mean god, you’re such an arrogant son of a bitch! Was it so hard to say you’re sorry for what you did?” She questioned with a strain in her voice. “I didn’t want your money, I just wanted you to be here,”

Harry tried to open his mouth, but nothing came out. His throat was dry and he was glad that she wasn’t here or else he would’ve made a complete fool of himself. He was sorry. He wanted to tell her repeatedly even if she didn’t believe him. He had to make sure that she knew just how much he loved her despite not being able to fulfill what he should be. 

“It’s hard talking to you, you know that? Like talking to a brick wall,” Y/N said snidely, “Haven’t heard from you in so long,”

“Are we going to talk about this?” Y/N questioned. “I have to know if you want to be a part of this,” 

Beep.

And he does! Harry wanted to be part of this so bad but he can’t. He felt rushed and pushed in a direction that he did not want to go to at this time of his life. He hurt the love of his life because of him, but she couldn’t really blame him for that, could she? No one should have to be someone they didn’t want to be. A father, he thought. 

But no one should have to raise a child alone. 

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind and set focus on what he actually wants to do. All caution was thrown to the wind when he decided to call her.

His heart was thumping hard in his chest, blood was rushing quickly past his ears. He was beginning to sweat. This was the first time in months that he was willingly talking to Y/N, and god, did he expect nothing more than a proper lecture on how his ass couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone once after countless voicemails. What a dick, he thought to himself. 

The phone clicked.

“Hello?” Y/N’s velvety voice filled his ears. 

“Y/N” He breathed her name out in relief.

“Harry? Is that really you?” She questioned incredulously. “Why are you calling me?”

He blinked back tears prickling at his waterline, his heart pounding harder. “Heard your voicemails. Wanted to check in on you,”

She snorted, “A bit late for that, but I’m doing fine.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, carefully threading the next words to say to her. It was going better than expected as she hadn’t yelled at him yet. But somehow, her calm demeanor plastered indifference and he didn’t know if that was better or worse. 

“I-i’m so--,” He began. 

“Sorry? Sure you are, H.”

He swallowed thickly, “Yes, I am. I really am.”

“I appreciate it,”

Silence overtook the connecting line, neither of them knowing what to say to each other. The distance had taken a toll on their relationship, making it as though they hadn’t been together for years. Harry and Y/N were strangers, despite creating a little human that was reminiscent of both of them.

“Y/N? The movie’s about to begin,” A deep voice echoed through from Y/N’s line, “Let’s go love,” He could hear Y/N shush the person speaking.

“Harry?” She said hesitantly, “I have to go now, okay?”

He nodded slowly before realizing that she couldn’t see him, “O-okay, wait!”

His voice cracked, “Do you think we can work this out?” His arm was stuck in its position of holding the phone close to his ear. 

There were things that they’ll never know between them. However, the love was very much alive; Y/N admitted to it and Harry was sure that he could still feel the butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he thought of her. It was the sole question if they can work it out between them and Harry was afraid of the outcome because he knew just how rash his actions were. 

But they were Harry and Y/N, they validated each other, almost as if they needed each other to function. Y/N was the better half of him and he didn’t doubt it one bit. And Harry might as well be Y/N’s rock because she had lost stability for the months that he wasn’t by her side. Despite the dues they’ve yet to face, Harry wished for what he already had.

“We’ll be alright,”

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

or will they? so anyways, it’s been awhile. im sorry about that. im hoping to post a few more before the year ends. been working on some old stuff, some new stuff-- cause you kNOW i’ll be writing something (surprise!) angsty since ‘falling’ wrecked my emotions 

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

permanent taglist: @fangirl-moment-x @kissme-hs @agoddamnmango @harrys-kingdom @harrysstyleseyes  @calums-sugarbaby @queenbeestuffs @ashkuuuu @kettxo @send-me-styles @ofpeppermintbays @littledreamybeth @trustfulhaz @harrysfeastedflower @harrystxleslx @befourep @moonandstars-xo @babebenhardy @particularnarry @mendesromano @harrystylinsince1994 @juliassgem @miscll-fangirl @little-dragon-ate-my-heart @myfangirlworld @haroldssfedora @winchesterwife27 @w0wfxck @arypesanchez  @harriemelonsugar @someinsanefangirl @derangedcupcake @bobo-bush @peachesaquari @shawnsnovel @ivegotparticulartaste @adore-you-hs2 @combativehood 

[hyukiee]

Chapter 2: Backseat

Warnings: cussing, drug use, mental illness (future fluff, smut, angst, etc.)

I’m so sorry for not updating, a lot has been going on but be ready for a double update! :)

Taehyung is the type of person that is never fake. He can read people like an open book and when he sees that their intentions are fake, he doesn’t hide his annoyance or frustration. He has been in many of these situations with celebrities while in America. There’s a reason people say to never meet your idols. Chances are, their assholes. It’s unfortunately rare to come across a genuine person in the industry. Taehyung just doesn’t have the energy to be someone he is not, he’s been having this feeling of loneliness a lot more everyday. Not really loneliness but just this incompleteness. He can’t say anything though because that would make him greedy in other people’s eyes. What does he not have, right? He’s in the biggest group in the world, he can get anything he wanted. He’s never understood the whole ‘money can’t buy happiness’ phrase as much as he does now. “Yah, we’re getting your favorite coffee why do you look like someone just stole your favorite toy,” Yoongi chuckled hanging his arm around Taehyung’s shoulder. “Just tired, it’s hot out today,” “Mhm, good ole California,” Hoseok piped in with his iconic smile. The heat consumed Taehyung’s mind until he saw someone sitting in front of his favorite cafe. Not just some homeless person but weirdly the prettiest one he has ever seen. The urge to help her was obviously because she was pretty because they have passed many homeless people here and never gave a second look. He really shouldn’t help her, right? Homeless people are there for a reason, she may use his could of been good spent money on drugs. Little did he know you mentally hit yourself for not taking his money for an extra Xanax. Fuck it.

“Where did Tae go, he needs to order?” Namjoon frantically looked around the shop as if he was looking for his lost child. On que, Taehyung walked in with even more of a depressed look. “Was I the only one that saw him get rejected by the homeless??” Jungkook held onto his stomach from laughter and soon pain from Taehyung’s fist. “What is up with you today? You’re never like this,” Jin spoke for the whole group. Taehyung really is never like this. Everyone knows how insanely honest he is, he wouldn’t just give some crackhead money. No, he would give it to someone that deserved it. Something told him she didn’t deserve the money but she deserved something... he wish he would be able to find out what it was.

“Yahh, i’m much taller than you, i’ll catch up eventually so you might as well stop,” Taehyung had a smile stuck on his face as he sped walked behind you. He expected this to happen, it wasn’t really planned to have you find out that you were talking to someone famous all along by seeing him perform but it was just too good of an opportunity. He didn’t see you in the crowd but he saw you walking away with your head down. He would of never assumed it would be that easy to embarrass you. “What? I thought you wanted to meet celebrities here?” he spoke almost cocky after grabbing your small wrist making you turn to him abruptly. “Is this a joke? What do you want from me? I don’t want to be your charity case if that’s what this all is.” Ouch. Was he that bad at flirting or do you have a million walls holding you back? “I’ve been feeling empty recently. You know, like I have everything but it’s not really what I want. I’m interested in you, this isn’t a common thing for me when i’m in a foreign country. Your not a charity case but...,” Taehyung’s cheeks turned red at his sudden confessions. You kept eye contact with him as he rambled though, it almost felt like you found relief in what he was saying. “I’ll be your charity case if you really are as interesting as i’m assuming.”

Is he asking you for drugs? No... it can’t be that. He doesn’t know you, how does he have such a big assumption of you out of one conversation. You probably can’t run now, he really is much taller than you. What is holding you back? Some ridiculously attractive artist is asking you of all people to show him a life he has been missing. Oh you can do that. It’s practically your second job. “Fuck it, let’s go.” You turned back around and started walking slower to the exit, assuming Taehyung was following. You might be able to scare him out of this before you even get on the road back to L.A. People always swear they want to live this carefree life but that is just what it looks like on the outside. It’s a scam. Give you a good time at first and by the end of it your just a sleep deprived drug addict. That could never be Taehyung. If he can make assumptions about you, you could do the same. He’s a good guy, the type to try and change you into a better person. He’ll stick out like a bug with you. So out of place but so desperate to find whatever is missing in his life.

“So, BTS huh? How’s that?” you and Taehyung sat in the back of Julian’s car waiting for him to find his way back so you can get some sleep at a hotel. “Exhausting, honestly but my members are amazing and so are our fans so that keeps me going,” he played with his fingers, smiling as he thought about the guys and army. He feels terrible for feeling lost when he has such amazing people around him. “Interesting,” you responded back uninterested. Not on purpose, you were just trying to cut up some cocaine on your phone. Taehyung noticed how you spoke and looked at you. “What’s that?” “Do you really wanna know?” You laughed at his innocent expression. “I don’t know why I asked, I know what it is,” why does it feel like your getting judged by your father? He sounded so disappointed, you almost felt guilty. Almost. “Sure you do,” you laughed before snorting your perfectly made line you might say. You released a long sigh as you entered your own world made by your dearest cocaine. Not a single thing in this world could replace the feeling. Taehyung sat almost uncomfortably looking out the window, pretending you weren’t literally abusing drugs right beside him. He’s stubborn, he hasn’t left yet even though you can tell he is reconsidering his decision to come with you. It reminds you of yourself, stubborn as fuck and so desperate to find a new meaning in life.

“Jesus christ y/n, when I said people would kill to meet celebrities here I didn’t mean go off and kidnap one,” Julian loudly made himself noticed in the drivers seat, noticing the perfectly built man before he even opened the door. “Oh fuck off, he asked to come,” Fuck, now you have to playing fucking translator. “Taehyung, this is Julian,” you tapped on him pointing to Julian. “Yeah, right .. what’s up man,” Julian greeted Taehyung like he did everyone else. It isn’t rare for the both of you to bring around random people, it’s apart of the life you live, vibing with complete strangers and quite literally trusting them with your life sometimes. Taehyung greeted him the best he could in his own awkward way. “He doesn’t speak english so just use hand gestures like a dumb ass, I don’t feel like translating right now.” You spoke laying your head back on the headrest. As Julian begin to drive you could feel Taehyung shaking his foot anxiously. You do that all the time but you never really took him for someone with anxiety. You probably give him anxiety. You probably scare him. You know better than anyone that comfort is what you needed when you were that innocent girl getting involved in the dangerous life so you instinctively placed wrapped your small hand ontop of his that layed on the middle seat. You felt him look at you. His leg stopped shaking.

[hargrove-mayfields]

You’ve Set my Soul to Dreaming  Pt. 1

Christmas has always been Steve Harrington’s time to shine. 

It wasn’t that it was his favorite time of year; darkness falling at 5pm bummed him out, and the heat in his house was never good enough to stand up to the freezing, unpredictable Hawkins weather. Overall, he preferred the spring, when the sun was warm and the breeze was cool and the flowers were blooming. 

But festivity, that suited him well, and, probably more than anything, so did giving people things. In the non-physical sense, he always gave his all to ensure that everyone around him was happy. 

Whether that was a good character trait or a flaw on his part he had yet to decide, but nobody could say that Steve Harrington was selfish. Sometimes it felt like he gave so much away that there wasn’t even much of him left at all, so much as just who he tried to be for his friends, for his parents.

Literally though, he was the best at presents too. Maybe it was the unlimited bank account, or just the fact that he was so considerate, but everyone always loved what he bought, or made, in the case of the few exes who’d refused material possessions over a heartfelt, handmade gift. (ugh) 

That’s why, every year, he couldn’t help but buy as many presents as possible. For his mum, his friends, though the supply of those was getting rather sparse recently, the kids he babysat, their parents, the neighbors, the house keepers, his teachers, pretty much just anybody who he could possibly think of a reason to give them something got an expensive little novelty in hopes that he'd get to see their grateful reaction.

Sometimes he wondered if they just faked it to make him feel better about himself, but he kept doing it anyhow because it did make him feel better about himself, thank you very much. 

Especially because recently, there was a lot going on to feel not so good about.

This would mark the tenth year in a row that his parents flew out to the tropics, where it didn’t snow or reach temperatures even half as cold as Indiana, and that’d been fine and dandy for a while, since before, he was living in the childish daydream being home alone, and after that he’d always had someone to spend it with.

But this year, this year he’d be all alone, in his mansion big enough for half of the city’s population to fit inside, and he’d been feeling pretty lousy about it since they informed him of the trip in early December. 

That and the fact that he’d almost been killed a handful of times literally a month ago didn’t bode too well for his Christmas spirit. 

Steve Harrington didn’t back down from a little hardship though, so what if he was plagued by a sense of crippling loneliness and nightmares bad enough to keep him awake for days on end, that just wouldn't be enough to keep him from rising to the occasion. 

‘Tis the season to shove aside all that troubles you and put the needs of others before your own right? 

So the morning of the fifteenth, the last day before winter break, Steve does as he always does and ditches his books, opting to instead stuff his backpack full of presents. 

They’re wrapped terribly, he’s never been too good with his hands, and recently they’ve started to shake when he gets too nervous, so it’s kind of, lumpy, wrinkled, way too much wrapping paper on tiny boxes, but he’s happy with it. Even if he stabbed himself with the scissors about a million times and got tape in his hair trying to get them wrapped. 

Another of Steve’s holiday trademarks is ugly sweaters. He has exactly twenty five of them, one for every day leading up to Christmas, and he wears them religiously. 

These aren’t just any old tacky sweaters either, they’re homemade, the ugliest of the ugly. 

His gramma had done basically nothing but knit in her free time, so when she heard that her grandbaby wanted a Christmas sweater and couldn’t find one that wasn’t made out of wool, (side bar, he was extremely allergic, like, life-threateningly so) she made him enough to last him the entire month of December up to Christmas Day. 

Thank heavens she was terrible with sizes, so they all still fit if not just a little snugly even about 10 years after she made them. By now they were somewhat faded and pilled and riddled with loose threads, but they were soft as all hell and one of a kind, so he didn’t bother with replacing them. 

This particular morning he’d chosen a white sweater embroidered with tiny versions of his childhood poodle Charlie in her little Christmas hat, the first his gramma did without a pattern, and his absolute favorite. 

Maybe everyone else though it was dumb how into the whole thing he got, but nothing made him happier than pulling up to the school in a sweater from ‘74 with a bag full of overpriced knickknacks. 

Steve started his day by giving Jonathan and Nancy their gifts in the cafeteria before the first bell rang, since they wouldn’t all three see each other again throughout the rest of the day, and he could barely contain his excitement. 

Watching his friends carefully pull apart the crummy wrap job he’d done was probably one of the best feelings ever, in his opinion. Or maybe it was just the knowing that he’d put a thoughtful effort into making other people happy combined with the fact that he was using all that hoarded wealth that went towards nothing but funding his parents trips to bring someone a gift that would mean more to them than those wasteful luxuries. 

Whatever it was that compelled him so, it was enough that he had to stuff his hands in his pockets and bite his tongue to keep from making a fool of himself in front of the whole school while he waited for Nancy and Jonathan to open their presents. 

This year he’d reined the budget in a little, since last Christmas he’d gone just a little bit overboard with a $300 camera for Jonathan and a necklace and a ring for Nancy that cost him a 7th of his (very expensive) car payment. He still probably spent more than was considered normal, just not enough that his parents would notice the huge sum of money missing this time.

They didn’t have a whole lot of time before the bell would ring and they would split off to their respective classes, but it was enough that Steve got to see their reactions and revel in the hug Nancy gave him on behalf of the both of them. 

He’d opted to get Jonathan a bag for the camera he’d gotten him last year, since you never know when something could happen to it, and before he even had it all the way unwrapped, Jonathan was getting his camera out of the bag he already used to put it in the new one. 

Nancy got a bag this year too, but hers was a fancy designer thing he’d picked out of a catalog meant for his mother. He figured she’d need it for when she went off to college, or got the journalist job she’d been telling him about for a year and a half. 

Heading off for first period, he already felt the swell of pride that comes with the season, and he could not wait to hand out the rest. 

Perhaps another of his favorite parts was that, giving people things was the secret to saving his reputation when he was the way he was. 

Everyone knew Steve Harrington was the “up to no good” type, who bought weed off of the shady guys camping out at parties, and got in your daughters panties just to promptly break her heart, and who fails all of his classes and barely scrapes by in high school. 

But then he shows up in a hand knitted sweater and with a candy cane between his lips to spread his Christmas cheer, and suddenly all is forgiven, and he is transformed into the sweet Harrington boy who always gave the most thoughtful gifts. 

First on the list was Mrs. Click, the history teacher he’d been stuck with since sophomore year. 

History was by far his worst subject, and Mrs Click wasn’t the type to make sure you understood before she sprung a pass or fail pop quiz, so he’d failed her class twice. 

Even with how stupid she had to think he was, the bright smile on her bitter old face when he handed over the little box with a large Givenchy brooch inside meant that he’d earned his redemption for the third year in a row. 

Next was the tie-pin for Mr. Cook, the Spanish teacher, a little golden thing that had cost him more than he’d like to admit and earned him a pat on the back. He was good enough at remembering what he had to know in Spanish, but reading and speaking it? He might as well have been completely illiterate. 

His pronunciations were so poor that even the chunky ruby inlay was almost not enough to save face, but in the end his ego got its booster anyhow. 

The rest of the day went on like that: a bottle of Mon Parfum for Miss Foster, the English teacher, a SoundBand for the coach, a gift card to the most expensive store he could think of for Mrs.  Hall, and so and so forth, each giving him that same rush of confidence, a sense that he was doing something important until he was practically floating through the halls. 

By seventh period math, he’s only got two gifts left. A fancy pen set for Mr. Butler, and the other, well, the other one is for Billy Hargrove. 

Billy Hargrove who, only about a month ago, had beat his stupid face in and gave him a concussion he still wasn’t quite over, and who definitely wasn’t going to give him that giddy joy he usually got from giving gifts, but he still felt like he needed to extend a holly branch. 

Because the way he saw it, Billy couldn’t take all the blame for what went down, so why shouldn’t he be the one to try to apologize, be the bigger person and earn Billy’s respect through his shopping abilities like he did with everyone else. 

He knows it’s kind of poorly thought out, maybe even completely crazy to try to make a peace offering to a boy who could practically be called his bully, but he’s still not anticipating the fact that, when he walks down the third row of desks and holds out the little box wrapped in red paper for the other boy to take, Billy just sort of stares at him. 

Shaking it a little, like he’s trying to get the attention of a cat with a bag of treats, Steve sets the box down on Billy’s desk and retreats to his own seat a few aisles over. 

That’s where it stays until about halfway through the period, which is just a free day anyways, no 75 year old man in his right mind would make a room full of teenagers do algebra on the last day before Christmas break, when Billy finally leans forward and snatches the gift box off the polished surface.

Steve could try to pretend he’s not staring, vibrating in anticipation of Billy’s reaction to the gift, a silver zippo with Venetian engraving, but he’s caught when Billy, having dumped the lighter out of the box and into his hand, turning it over a few times, turns to look at him. 

There’s a look on his face that’s a cross between confusion and surprise and something unreadable, like maybe he’s trying to tell Steve with just a look that this was a mistake, and he’s going to kick his ass again as soon as the bell rings, but in a way he still thinks it’s worth it. 

Because Steve Harrington does not have enemies, no matter how many toes he steps on and things he does wrong, and maybe Billy won’t accept a fancy lighter as an apology, but at least he’ll know that he tried to make peace. 

Even after he turns his attention to the gossip circle running in front of him, Steve can feel Billy’s eyes on him. It’s borderline creepy, in Steve’s own opinion, but he supposes he can understand it. 

He might have been a little more grateful and not so stalkerish were he in the same situation, but, potato potahto. 

As soon as the bell rings Billy’s out of there like a bat out of hell. He’s up out of his seat before anyone else, halfway out the door and tossing a crumpled ball of red paper in the trash before the rest of the class could even blink. 

At first, Steve isn’t even sure that Billy didn’t throw the whole zippo away, but he sees it catch the light from where it’s held tight in Billy’s fist just before he disappears through the doorway completely. 

The fact that the lighter wasn’t in the bottom of the trash can was a good sign, but, this still didn’t bode all that well for a Christmas truce.

Read also on ao3

[thirdplacemag]

Danger, Keep Out!

by Edward Radzivilovskiy 

[original artwork by Laura Baran]

It’s the holidays and I’m alone. I’m a recently-dumped, burned-out, New York lawyer and here I am. Sitting in traffic on I-76, driving to my family’s Christmas for the first time in three years? My ex, Brenda, yeah, she didn’t go in for these things. She was technically Christian, but didn’t do holidays, period, so we never went. 

About halfway there, traffic comes to a dead stop. Ugh, the worst—bumper to bumper! I know I have an eighteen year old Macallan in the trunk, but that is just a no-go considering my past indiscretions. I reach into the back seat and grab the box of Cohibas I bought for my father. I know Dad won’t mind me dipping into his present. My fingernail slides perfectly along the cellophane and I get the box open. I light up, using the cigarette lighter of my 911. Most cars don’t have a cigarette lighter anymore, but some European ones still do.

As I start to settle in, relaxing to the soothing sounds of The Dark Side of the Moon, my GPS app starts chirping about getting off the highway: “Alternate route, recalculating route, confirm”.

“Are you seriously telling me to take surface streets right now? Isn’t this how horror stories start??”

My mind begins to wander. I picture my mother at her front door. I really want to get home before they go to bed. 

“FUCK IT” I say, and turn off the highway like Siri tells me to. Gorgeous freakin’ West Pennsylvania countryside. I tell Siri to play Joni Mitchell’s “Morning Morgantown”, just to set the mood and keep me sane and on the road.

I follow the GPS to the letter, but oddly, the streets get darker and darker. Eventually I’m on an empty, country road, curvy as hell. “Time to let this Porsche eat up the road!! Let’s go!”

I drive like a bandit for about three or four miles, letting the engine roar and flying through turns. When the road straightens out, I see a white barrier up ahead, across the road about twelve feet tall. “Am I on a dead end? Why is there a white wall blocking the road?”

This is just my god damn luck. Siri, you asshole! I shoulda used Waze! Waze knows about these damn closures! 

I see a door in the middle of the wall and I knock on it. There must be somebody out here who can direct me back on my way. I’m not going back the way I came, just to get stuck in that traffic. 

There’s a sign on the door: “Danger! Keep Out!”

As I move closer, I notice a smaller sign: “Door to the Beyond.”

“Ha!” 

I turn the handle and am surprised to find the door is unlocked.

As I step in, the door swiftly shuts behind me.

The sun dips below the horizon, and twilight illuminates the view ahead. 

“Well, this is certainly not a construction site.” 

Twenty yards in the distance, the clearing becomes a dense forest. Deeper inside, a tiny light shines between the trees. 

I head toward this peculiar light. 

“It’s an oil lamp!” 

There’s also a chair. And a bearded old man sitting in it! 

The old man is reading a large tome.

“Some place this is, huh? What are you up to?” 

But the old man keeps silent, and simply stares into the book. 

I press on: “Why are you here, in a forest in the middle of nowhere, reading a book?” 

The mysterious man turns to face me. He has a twisted looking face, with big blue eyes and round black rimmed glasses. 

“Welcome to the Night Library, young man,” he says, with a hint of a mile. And at these words, twilight turns to darkness and the lamp shines brighter. 

“I am the Night Librarian.” 

“What’s the point of all this?” 

“The purpose? Really? You might just as well ask: What is the purpose of dreaming?” 

Feeling slightly reassured, I sigh with relief, “Ahhh. So this is a dream, then?”

The cold night air of winter creeps in, and I begin to shiver. The old man, noticing this, starts a campfire. 

“Sit here on this chair.” He motions to the other chair near the fire which I didn’t notice before. I obey and sit. 

“I am the Librarian of Souls,” the old man says. “I work in the night.” 

I chuckle nervously, “Come on, man. What’s your deal? I don’t think I even got your name yet?”

“I go by different names to different folks. To you, I am The Librarian.”

“Alright then...Librarian...what’s the freakin’ deal here?”

“Why are you so surprised? You entered The Door to the Beyond. There was a sign, right?” 

“Uhh yeah, there was a sign.” 

“Well, then. There you go. What did you expect? Heaven or somethin’?” And he lets out a big belly laugh. 

Anxiety building up, I exclaim, “I don’t know! Not really, but what are you implying? What is this place? Anyway, what’s your plan?” 

The librarian throws more logs into the fire, something weird forms in the flames. 

“I have your soul here. Well, a copy of it. You see, it’s all in this book.” 

“Uhhhhh.”

“Tell me, and answer truthfully,” the librarian instructs. “Is your soul good or bad?” 

“Well,” I pause to think for a few moments. “I think mostly good.”

“Hoo-aah! Mostly good, huh?”

“I’d like to think so.” 

“So you don’t know so.” 

“Come on, man! Are you a librarian or the fucking devil?” 

The librarian then slams the book shut and casts it into the fire. But he replies in a cool, steady voice: “Your soul is no more.”

“What?”

“I gave you one chance to own up to what you are. And you failed.”

“You burned my soul out of existence? But...I don’t feel any different. I feel just the same.” 

“Ha! You fool! You don’t feel the same. You just don’t feel.” 

Nonsense. I try to summon a feeling.  

Feel fear, I mentally instruct myself. 

Nothing.

Feel anger.

Nothing. 

Sadness. Loneliness. Happiness. Courage. 

Still nothing. 

“Man, I really am just a burned out, good-for-nothing lawyer,” I say. 

So the librarian and I sit in silence for some length of time, listening to the cackling and crackling of the fire and staring into the flames, those hypnotic flames. My mind is blank...I’m in shock and awe, speechless and afraid.

“Hey buddy,” the librarian breaks the silence, “you know, it’s time for me to come clean. I’m just messing with you.”

I gaze at his old, twinkling eyes with bewilderment. 

“This is just a construction site near the forest. The state is planning to widen the roads or something. Anyway, I’m a writer. My cabin is up ahead. I like to write at night. I come here at sunset.”

I continue to stare, unblinking. 

“I’ve been dealing with writer’s block, you see. It’s become a big problem. So I’ve been going into this forest with my oil lamp and my chairs. I was hoping to get some inspiration here. And then, well, you came along.” 

[lins-fandom-hub]

i’ll always be with you. (part 1)

A two part fic inspired from the recently released Head Kid TLSQ! Unedited, unpolished, but hopefully enjoyable all the same. This was written with the Etched, Engraved, Everlasting events in mind.

Part 2 will be uploaded when I finish the TLSQ and write that up.

It was ten past ten.

At least, that was the time she saw on the clock above the courtyard as she sat at the fountain’s edge, her gaze fixed on the clear night sky. The lack of sextants and telescopes made the stars look farther away but seeing the tiny twinkles in the dark blue brought a forced smile to her face—forced in the bittersweet wake of tragedy resurfaced. There was never a day when she never thought of her fallen friend, her tree twin, and to take a grand desire any student would have wanted—most especially hers…

Dumbledore wanted to consider her.

She did not even think she could consider herself.

“What am I going to do?”

Clara brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in a fetal position, her gaze now blurred as tears welled in her eyes. As they trailed down her cheeks in a blazing rush, she shivered slightly in the night air; even with the full-length dress Rowan gifted her after the Celestial Ball, it didn’t exactly do much to block the cool night breeze, or ease her mind to think in sharper clarity.

“Rowan would know exactly what I should do,” she murmured, blinking rapidly as fatigue settled in.

“Of course I know exactly what you should do.”

“Huh?”

A voice, a voice so familiar spoke to her—yet no one was around.

“Rowan?”

The whisper of her name brought her to light now—the outline, and then the colour, of a student that she had dubbed her best friend, her tree twin, from the very first days at Hogwarts. With her messily tied Gryffindor tie and charming smile, there was no mistaking her.

“Hi Clara. I missed you.”

It took everything in Clara now not to squeal at the sight of Rowan sitting beside her. She looked just the same from the days before the ambush in the forest, before Rakepick cast the Killing Curse so mercilessly on her dear friend. Time and space mattered no longer in the moment—given the power, she would have hugged her friend so tightly she would never let go.

“Rowan!” Clara cried in sheer relief. “But…how are you here? Are you a ghost?”

Rowan’s smile faded slightly at the question. “You ask as if we don’t see ghosts every day at Hogwarts.”

“So…so this is happening! I’m so happy to see you!”

And that, at the very least, was true. The tears that once welled out of anguish were now spilling over her face in joy, eyes shining behind her own glasses like the twinkling stars in the sky. She wiped the tears quickly now on the sleeves of the dress and pulled out her wand. “Here, let me take a better look at you. Lumos!”

And as the light shone over her friend, she felt a buzz of warmth resonate in her chest. It wasn’t exactly her best friend in the flesh, but seeing her now, even just a memory of her, was enough to make her feel content.

“Lumos…That was the first spell we learned in our very first Charms class together,” Rowan reminisced fondly, a small smile blooming. “You remember.”

“Of course I do. It’s so wonderful to see you, Rowan,” Clara said sincerely, stowing her wand away. “You’re really here. You’re really back.”

“I’ve never left you, Clara. I’m always with you.” Rowan reached out and patted Clara’s shoulder, though Clara could feel nothing. “I’m just…not at Hogwarts anymore.”

“I know, Rowan. I’m so sorry,” Clara apologized then, the memory of the tragedy hitting her full force. “I know why you went after us in the Forbidden Forest that night. I know you were following me to protect me.”

Rowan’s eyes widened at the realization, and then she sighed. “Charlie and Em told you, did they? They weren’t supposed to tell you.”

“They knew. They told me after the memorial. And it was fair of them to—I had to understand what happened.” Clara balled her hands into fists as the tears pricked her eyes again. “I’m sorry. I never got to thank you.”

“Hey. What I did was my choice. And we all make choices,” Rowan told her.

“I know. And after you died, I was trying to remember our last time together,” Clara admitted. “You wanted to come with me to the train station…”

Rowan nodded eagerly. “Yes, I remember the clock stuck at ten past ten! And casting Rictusempra until our bellies hurt from all the laughter!” she recalled with a laugh.

The sound of her laugh brought a sweet wash of nostalgia over Clara’s conscience, and she laughed too at the happier memory of them earlier that year. The wait for the pearl dust and powdered moonstone for the love potion trade would have felt much longer without a friend to talk with, and for a moment she could taste the sweetness of the past, clinging fast onto the fabric of the dress.

“I never thought of it to be a day that was so special,” Clara admitted. “I mean, we had a lot of other good times together, too. Remember the Celestial Ball? And the first time we had Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks together? And the time you helped Fang get over his fear of cats?”

Rowan nodded at them all. “How could I ever forget, Clara? I was the one who gifted you the dress you’re wearing now,” she reminded her. “You look stunning in it yourself.”

Clara smiled fondly. “Well, you know what they say, right? Everything is better with a friend. Though I keep thinking what if I’d decided you shouldn’t come with me that day…my last memory of you would have been of leaving you out.”

“That’s just how choices work,” Rowan said. “Imagine how dull life would be if all was decided for you.”

“I figured the future wasn’t always meant to be clear, but sometimes I wish I did have some idea,” Clara said. “Still, is this why you’re here? Did you choices leave you stuck? Do you need my help to move on?”

“It’s not me who needs help moving on.” Rowan gestured to her friend with a hand. “Here, let me explain…”

And so they talked, almost like nothing had changed. The grief and sadness still gave way in most of the conversation, the emotions laden heavy on Clara’s shoulders until she broke down and let it go. In one night, she could lose her tree twin as quickly as she had found her again. Death did horrible things to not only the ones who still roamed the earth, but the spirits who found unrest in the wake of the phenomenon—and Clara was not ready to let her go.

She never thought of it then, and she could not think of it now. Not now, when loneliness held her in its grasp for so long despite the company of other friends around her, and her sister willing to break the rules to find her and comfort her.

“You think proving myself ready to become Head Girl will help me get over your death?” Clara finally asked Rowan.

“Perhaps not over it, really, but through it for a start,” Rowan responded with a smile. “Besides, you deserve to be happy. You need to go back to chasing dreams.”

“I don’t know, Rowan.” Clara hesitated at the thought of accepting the position again—it was what held her back the second Dumbledore indirectly proposed this to her. “Being Head Girl had always been your dream. I know you wanted to see me become Prefect way back in fourth year when I told you about it before—but this is different now. Only one boy and one girl in our class get to become Head Boy and Girl. I can’t picture anyone else but you getting the position.”

Rowan’s eyes softened in concern, almost as if the thought had just occurred to her too. Then she said, “You told Dumbledore I would understand if you wanted the same dream—and I do. I want this for you, tree twin.”

“Wait, you know of that?” Clara sat up in shock at the words. “You really are with me always.”

“Clara, you will always be my first and best friend,” Rowan told her. “You’ll always be my tree twin. And you’ll always be the one I could be my weird self around.” Her smile then turned into a frown, eyes furrowed in worry. “I wish I had more ‘always’ things ahead of me, but instead, all I have left are ‘nevers’.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’m dead, Clara. I can never become the youngest professor at Hogwarts, I can never be Head Girl…” Rowan took a shaky breath. “I can never go home to the tree farm, never read my favourite book…never jump in puddles to hear the splash…”

So Rowan did have regrets after all. “Oh, Rowan,” Clara finally murmured in grief, her arms surging forward only to halt halfway to embrace her friend.

Rowan simply laughed and held her arms up too, hugging her friend in an airy embrace. “That’s what makes the ‘always’ so special,” she said then. “If you become Head Girl, it’s an honour and experience you’ll always have. Your name will always be in the Hogwarts trophy room.”

“And I’ll always be an integral part of Hogwarts history,” Clara mused. “I suppose if you put it that way, it sounds nice to consider it.”

They both let go of the embrace and looked at each other, a small smile tugging up at Clara’s lips. “So I would be doing this for you, then?”

“No. You’d be doing it for you,” Rowan clarified.

“What? But—but I expected you to be Head Girl, so I’ve never thought about how to prove myself as one,” Clara told her.

“Lucky for you, I know how,” Rowan remarked. “To move forward, you must first look back.”

“Wait. To move forward, you must first look back?” Clara tilted her head in confusion as the words settled in. “Is this a riddle? How do I do that?”

Rowan only smiled sadly. “I know you can do this, Clara. Good luck.”

“Good luck? Rowan—wait!” Clara’s eyes widened at Rowan’s final words. “You’re leaving? No! Rowan, please don’t leave! There’s still so much I want to say!”

“Hey.” Rowan’s figure already began to fade away as she set her hand on Clara’s shoulder one last time. “I told you, I never left you. I’m always with you, tree twin. And I always will be.”

Her smile was the last thing Clara saw before she disappeared altogether into the shadows.

To move forward, you must first look back…But what must she look back to? How far back did she have to go? Where could she start? When could she start?

Grief held her in its clutches because Rowan died. The Circle of Khanna was born because of the anger, grief, and trauma that birthed in the wake of the tragic untimely loss.

She set her jaw and balled her fists tightly. If her hunch and instincts served her right, she knew where to go first.

[askultimateluckytrash]

           The days were stifling; the nights were suffocating. Sitting in the same place every day, with no one to talk to, nowhere to go, and nothing new to see—It made things feel as if the rest of the world was just as fake and simulated as the Neo World Program. A concept only, to be perceived but not experienced, and sometimes not even comprehended. Everything felt fake. The present, the future, and the past were all disjointed from Nagito and from each other.

           The present was an isolated bubble of existence and reality, incomprehensible and severed from every other moment in his life and everyone else’s. It felt all the more fake because he couldn’t connect it to his past. How could that past have led here, to this present? Had it even happened? Was it even real? It didn’t feel like it, though he knew it must be. But he wasn’t the person in his past. Was the him in the present even real? Was he him? He didn’t feel like himself at all, not the person that he had been and the person that he thought of himself as, although…he desperately wanted to. It was a homesick feeling. He wanted to feel like himself again, and he wanted his life to feel like his life again.

           The past was a severed timeline all too different from the now, so distant, and so…fuzzy. He could hardly remember any of it. Had it really happened that way, or was he deluding himself? Had the past ever existed, or was it a fabrication he made up to comfort himself, and he had always been stuck in this suffocating present, forever? The future looked no brighter. It, too, felt like it didn’t exist. A thin, misty veil of impossibility. With his life as stuck as it was, how was it possible that time could still move forward? When he remembered the annoying platitude ‘it gets better’, he tried to think of the future. But all he saw was more of this. More of this stifling stillness and sameness, day after day after day. After all, what could possibly happen to change it? How would he ever feel like he was home in his own life again? He wasn’t sure if this feeling was caused by his loneliness or his cabin fever or both.

           But after his realization on Jabberwock Island, he was determined to go back to being the stronger person that he used to be. Or at least, the one less pathetic in the face of misery. He wasn’t going to complain and wallow in self-pity. Not outwardly, anyway.

           He reached out to fill his own time. He did what he could, though he felt far more lackluster than usual about the household chores. He cooked dinner every day, motivating himself that it was for Hajime—or, for Izuru right now. Even though most of the time, Nagito ate alone. Still, Hajime/Izuru had to eat some time. Nagito cleaned the house for much the same reasons. Even though he hardly got to see Hajime or Izuru take comfort in a clean home, he knew that he must want it clean whenever he was home, and so he cleaned anyway. Even though he felt tired and heavy all the time, and sick, and sometimes he ached for no reason.

           His favorite chore was laundry. This one was the most tangible evidence that he had of his lover in his life. It was easier to do the laundry, because it wasn’t just some notion of ‘this will be for him, even if I don’t see it’. He could see it. These were Hajime’s clothes, right in front of him. He got to pick them up dirty off the floor and return them to their bedroom in clean, folded piles. Before Izuru had come out, he had often wondered if he ought to ask Hajime if he’d like to sleep in a different room. Izuru was sleeping in a different room, and so Nagito was alone. Anyway, the laundry was for Hajime. That’s why it was Nagito’s favorite. His boyfriend’s dirty clothes on the bedroom floor gave a sign that he really did live there, beyond just the dirty dishes in the sink and the rumpled blankets in the mornings. Which weren’t there anymore, now that he slept alone.

           But laundry didn’t last forever. Usually, when he wasn’t doing chores, Nagito would lay around the house. Always with a book, in case he got caught. He was determined not to be so melancholy all the time. This way, if Hajime or Izuru walked by, he could pretend to be reading his book, not just laying down and staring at the ceiling because he was too tired to get up. Sometimes, he actually would be reading the book. And if he was spoken to, he would get to his feet with a bright smile, looking as if he’d merely been interrupted in a pastime. He would ask Hajime or Izuru if he needed anything, and then he would talk to him or do him the favor with as much energy and happiness as he could pretend to have. He would not bow under despair, sinking beneath the waves and taking everyone else with him. To hell with his never-ending grief. He knew people were tired of it. He was going to be the person he used to be: the one who pretended to always be happy no matter what. The one who made other people happy instead of forcing them to be miserable with him.

           But today, Izuru was not there to ask him to do things, and the chores were all finished. Nagito resolved to entertain himself, no matter how horrible he felt. He was acquiesced to the misery now. No point in staying home and lamenting over it.

           He went to a temple. He wasn’t religious, but it was an interesting historic building, and very pretty as well. Even in the winter, when the Sakura trees weren’t in bloom. He did the cleansing ritual in the fountain, lifting the ladle to his lips and rubbing his hands in the cold water. Even though he knew better, it still felt like something oozing and dark had been washed away from him. He smiled. He moved to the temple steps. He threw a coin, rang the bell, and said a small prayer. Not that he expected it to come true, but repeating the old rituals was part of the fun of going to the old temples. His parents had walked him through it when he was a kid. He wrote a prayer on a strip of paper and tied it to the string outside. He bought a little wooden charm to clip to his pants—one with writing that invoked good health and peace of mind. He even left a little bottle of sake in one of the tiny mock-temples in the garden, for the gods that he didn’t believe in.

           He felt at peace when he left, smiling as he walked down the steps toward his car. A great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew it wasn’t religious. No, it was a peace that came from within him. The feeling of being alone and finally wanting to be. Doing something that you’re supposed to do alone, and not constantly longing for and missing the presence of another person. He had felt more comfortable as an anonymous visitor to a temple than he did as his own self in his own life. He didn’t feel like himself in his own life, and he knew that he should, and the contrast was a little terrifying. But visiting an old temple—he could be anyone. He didn’t have to feel like anybody. It was nice to be comfortable again, even for a little while.

           He stopped for ice cream on the way home. He didn’t even really like sweets, but last time he had gone to a temple, his mom had gotten him ice cream afterwards. In fact, he bought a little cone for Clover too. Then he stopped and picked up a little bouquet of white lilies for his bedside table. Normally he bought sunflowers but…what would be the point? Hajime couldn’t notice them right now. The lilies were for Nagito. As he drove home, looking out the window at all the world passing by, he felt freer and happier than he had in a long time. He knew it wasn’t for any real reason, and he knew it wouldn’t last. But you had to appreciate the good times as well as the bad. One always led to another, in an endless cycle. How could he have forgotten that? Too much of a good thing…

           He paused, jarred from his thoughts by a sudden realization. He laughed out loud at the irony of feeling so unusually happy on a day like today. He hadn’t even noticed the date, with everything that had happened recently.

           It had been exactly ten years today since his parents died.