#so i feel like everyone's sort of forgetting that no matter how horrible everything is right now

[ribbonknot]

sometimes i feel like rn it's really understated just how bad things could be if trump wins. like, actually. i feel like it's being forgotten that despite how bad things are right now, they would surely get WORSE.

[ellecdc]

hi mother i love ur writing !!! i was just wondering if you could write something with any ship that has james in it, where they're proud of reader bc she cleaned her room? i have really bad adhd and im cleaning it rn and im pretty proud of myself :) anyways its okay if not ! i love youuu !!!

thanks for your request, lovie (and congrats on cleaning your room!!!) here's a little baby blurb for you <3

marauders x roommate!reader who cleaned her room [500 words]

CW: platonic but could be read as something else, fem!reader, hints at non-platonic feelings but nothing outward

“One second, I’ll ask.” James says before he’s knocking on your bedroom door.

You had hardly raised your head to answer before he was pushing open the door door, his knock unanswered.

“Hey angel! Sirius and Remus are wondering if we want them to pick up- OH MY GOD!” He cut himself off, shouting as he looked around your room in…horror?

No, he was looking around your room in shock.

“What!?” You could hear Sirius shout from the other end of the line; a conversation that James had seemingly abandoned as he stared around your space. 

“What did you do?” James asked you breathlessly; finally moving his disbelieving stare from your belongings to yourself.

You suddenly felt horribly aware of yourself. You’d been cleaning all day; you had moved every piece of furniture and hoovered underneath and behind them, you had sorted out your closet and dresser, and you had finally organised the things that you had stashed under your bed to ‘deal with later’.

All this to say: you were sweaty, likely dirty, and you were sure your hair was in a right state.

“James what the hell is going on!? Is everything okay!?” Sirius’ muffled voice shouted from James’ phone. 

“James, you’re giving Sirius a fright.” You chided instead of drawing more attention to yourself.

James seemed to remember himself at that and brought the phone back up to his ear. “Sorry, sorry. What was that, Pads?”

Sirius’ response was quieter than before, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was still worked up.

“No, no. Sorry, everyone is fine. It’s just…bloody hell Pads, she cleaned her room!”

Another hot flash of embarrassment surged through you.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You mumbled as you folded your last shirt.

“Of course it wasn’t, angel. That’s not what I meant.” James offered; significantly softening at your worried expression. “I just know this had been on your list for a long while, and I also know how fucking hard this must have been.”

You hardly had a moment to wave him off before you heard Sirius shout “we want to see!” from the other end of the line.

Protests meeting deaf ears - because it apparently didn’t matter that they’d be home in a measly half hour - James was quickly turning the call into a facetime and pointing the camera around your room.

“Oh my god!” Sirius echoed James’ earlier sentiments. 

“It looks great, dovey!” Remus chimed in. “You must have been in there all day!”

“It looks amazing.” James agreed quickly, bending over to survey under your bed. “Think you can do mine next?”

“Prongs!” Remus was quick to admonish. “No, she’s done quite enough for the day I’d say.”

“Forget I asked anything Prongs; we are getting pizza and we are celebrating.” Sirius decided. 

“We don’t need to celebrate the fact that I cleaned my room, you sods.” You scolded.

“Oi.” Sirius called with faux severity. “Let us celebrate our sweet girl if we so please.”

“We should get a cake, too.” You heard him add as he and James ended the call.

“It looks really good, angel.” James repeated; no longer looking around your room in awe, but rather at you with a peculiarly soft expression. 

“Thank you Jamie.” 

James spent a moment longer smiling at you before he was turning to leave your room. “I’ll set up the living room for us. What movie do you want to watch? Don’t answer that; I already know!”

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel ||Alastor X Reader||Rest A Little My Dear

It's tiring and feeling burnt out but the stack of thoughts, longing and paperwork won't let you sleep.

It had been approximately two years since that horrible night, but you're not exactly sure how time works in hell, or how many days make a year, or how many days make a month.

You asked some of your other friends as well Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel they just shrugged, although Vaggie did ask you the reason. Then looking at you she figured it,

"Oh, I see... you're still hoping huh?" Vaggie didn't want to tell it, but she thought you were hoping for something meaningless.

"Come now my dear, it's not healthy for you to be locked up in your bedroom the whole day." Alastor reminded, dragging you outside.

To cure you of your homesickness he would make the food you used to enjoy, love, and fight with your sibling for.

Alastor could have handled that, but he knew the stages of acceptance involved Denial, Turmoil, more denial, romanticizing the impossible, and then initial acceptance.

It was a while since you landed here, and the moment he had seen you he knew you could be a more hopeless case than Charlie and a complete misfits of the misfits.

"Here at least come to one of the most pleasant cities of this miserable hell!" Alastor said grinning,

Two weeks passed, And Alastor had gone out for 'Urgent matters' he thought you were to lighthearted to understand or even know about it.

That night he was pleasantly surprised to see you wrapped up with a blanket on your bed, you were taking his advice and calming down a little.

He sat by the bedside, "I know my dear, it's painful. As painful as missing my mother. You know I'd give anything to see her once again." Alastor then looked at you, "Now my dear, when I go, I hope you will help me run this hotel and not stay cooped up here. It's definitely not healthy, well I guess this is hell. Now I better get going. My dear."

"Ah there you are Charlie... why not help me out a little you see my darling Y/n will probably be all delusional again, dreaming, drifting, and mindlessly browsing all sorts of information in those content books of hers, and that picture box thing, so make sure she doesn't get a little to delusional okay?"

But Charlie knew your stubbornness passes the gates of hell and to the doors of heaven, you avoided everyone, anything to study, you studied for hours, without Alastor things got really hellish.

One day in your room staring out to the red skies, Niffty called out to you,

"So why are you such a boring person huh? Why are you not a bad girl?"

"That's because she doesn't belong here Nifftly." Charlie's soft voice called out, she then took your hand, "I know it's hard for you, to have left everyone behind, I know your longing to pick up where you left, you want to forget you are trapped in hell. I can't promise your departure back to Earth, I know your scared, but we'll be right by your side."

You laughed with tears, "You sang and told me this, you and Alastor I'll never know the secrets behind your dazzling smiles, and those songs you both sing so naturally. Thanks."

Alastor was up against the wall eavesdropping is a rude word, he just wanted to make sure you were alright. He was too respectful to eavesdrop.

An hour later, again you think because you don't know how time worked in hell.

"Ah my dear! I see your less delusional than before!" Alastor came smiling, he was really relieved you were smiling.

He had never made a deal with you, because he hoped that one day he could see you truly happy when you return to Earth happily, and when you die, he knows he would most likely never see you again and now he will have two people to give up everything for to just see them once again.

After everyone left, you took Alastor's hand, "I see your in a much better mood!" Alastor commented, "It's thanks to you."

"Oh no my dear, Just smile and one more thing just rest a little more my dear."

And smile you did, the most purest one in his eyes.

[starryevermore]

begging for you to take my hand ✧ leo campo

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: leo campo requests?? did i read that right because yes please!! if you’d like to write something angsty with reader being in love with Leo but Leo loves Nikki? it can or cannot have a happy ending, whichever you feel like (although i am a sucker for happy endings hehe) but yeah and it can be anything you like 

honestly anything with Leo you wish to write would be a great read 💙 thank you and no pressure, only if you’d like to  - @sunshine-on-my-mind

pairing: leo campo x fem!reader 

summary: you loved leo all your life, but he never spared you a second glance. when he finally starts to notice you, his attention is taken just as quickly. you’re ready to forget anything ever happened, but he can’t let you go. 

word count: 5,717

warnings?: angst with a happy ending, pining, unrequited love (or so you think), insecurities, miscommunication, misunderstanding, love confession, ending is a little rushed, not proofread

Leo Campo was an easy man to love. What was hard, was not being the only person vying for his attention. And for most of your life, the person who won his attention was none other than Nikki Angioli. You understood, of course. Nikki was everything you weren’t. Beautiful, charismatic, smart as a whip. It was easy for Leo to love her.Whenever you were with Leo and Nikki, it felt like you were a third wheel. After all, they were practically born to be best friends. Their parents worked together, they got to see each other pretty much every hour of every day. Meanwhile, you were just someone they sort of…Well, not tolerated. It was more than that. You were sure they considered you to be a friend. But you were never someone they really sought out. You were there, and therefore you were their friend. 

It’s just…it’s hard to be part of a trio. No matter how easy Percy, Annabeth, and Grover made it look, it was fucking hard. There was always, always, always someone left out. And that someone was almost always, probably 99.9999% of the time…You. You weren’t sure that Leo and Nikki meant to leave you out, but it always tended to happy. Perhaps it was because their families worked together for so long, perhaps it was because they were practically branded as besties ever since their mothers got pregnant, perhaps it was because they were twin flames or some cheesy shit like that. Whatever it was, you knew that you could easily fall to the wayside and neither of them would probably notice. 

In a lot of ways, they didn’t. 

It felt like every time something incredible happened to you, something awful would happen to either Leo or Nikki and all of the attention would be focused on making sure they were okay. If, Heaven forbid, something horrible happened to you, something would great happen to them and how dare you bring down the mood by talking about your struggles. Which—don’t get you wrong—it was absolutely valid to lend Leo and Nikki a shoulder to cry on or celebrate with them. It’s just, they so rarely kept the same energy for you.  

The friendship fell apart quite easily. Between the rivalry between their fathers that forced Leo and Nikki apart and you taking on more responsibility at the bakery when your mother died, everyone drifted apart. You were still friendly when you saw them at school or around the neighborhood, and so were they, but it was different. It wasn’t the same, and you weren’t sure it ever would be. As you all got older, the distance grew even greater. Leo took on jobs at both his father’s pizza shop and at Luigi’s. Nikki moved to London to go to cooking school. And you…You stayed where you had been for years, working at your mother’s bakery, hoping that one day you might catch Leo’s eye. 

Then, one day, it felt like the stars had aligned and all your wishes had come true. 

You were about to close up the bakery for the night when the jingle of the bell above the door alerted you to the last minute customer. You barely looked up from your sweeping, shouting out, “We’re closed! Come back tomorrow!”

“Ah, you’re really gonna turn your best friend away?”

The broom nearly fell from your hands. You tightened your grip on it as you looked up to see the beautiful blue eyes you always dreamed of. (God, this was pathetic, even for a hopeless romantic.) You swallowed hard. “Would you keep Luigi’s open longer just for one customer?”

“If it was for a pretty girl, I might.”

Was that supposed to be directed at you? Was he calling you a pretty girl? Or was Leo just being quippy? Fuck. Just being around the man made you an anxious teenager all over again. 

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head. You tried to not make it obvious the effect he had on you, but you weren’t entirely sure you were successful. “I suppose you’re pretty enough. What’dya need?”

“Ma’s birthday is coming up. I was hoping I could order a cake for her?” Leo asked, leaning against the glass case. “She always loved your cakes.”

You propped the broom against the wall and grabbed your order sheet and a pen. “Sure thing. Anything specific?”

Leo shrugged. “Nah, she’ll lover anything you make her. You can have total creative control.”

You smiled a little, jotting down a few ideas on the paper. “And when do you need this by?”

Leo was quiet. Which scared you, because Leo is never quiet. When you glanced up at him, he had a pink tint on his cheeks and he was trying to avoid your gaze. 

“Leo…When do you need the cake by?” you repeated.

“Tomorrow? Morning?”

You gasped. Without thinking, you threw your pen at him. Your aim was terrible, so it soared straight passed his head became hitting the ground. But Leo flinched nonetheless, throwing his arms up to shield himself from anything else you might throw at him. “You’re a terrible son!” you said. 

“I know! I know!” Leo slowly lowered his arms, trying to gauge if you were going to throw anything again. “I just got busy, ya know? Between Pa’s restaurant, and bartending, and coaching the kids’ soccer team, I lost track of time!”

“It took you all of five seconds to place the order! How hard would it have been to just call? Hell, you could’ve submitted an order on my fucking website!”

“I know!” Leo fully lowered his arms, pouting at you. “I just didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me.”

You were caught between wanting to yell at him more—because what did that mean? he was the one who stopped talking to you!—and wanting to melt into a puddle of goo. Instead, you found the happy medium of letting out a sigh. You said, “Leo, you know I always love hearing from you.”

Leo perked up a little. “So you’ll make the cake?”

“Only because it’s for your ma,” you said. “And you’ll be charged a rush fee.”

“Deal!”

“And you get your pretty ass in the back and help me make it, so I can actually get home at a half decent time.”

A smirk crossed Leo’s face. He leaned back over the case. “You think my ass is pretty?”

Fuck, you hadn’t meant to say that. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. How do you recover from this?

“You, me, and the rest of Little Italy,” you said. A joke, it was. At least that got a chuckle from Leo. As he walked over to the other side of the case, you added, “And if you ever think about making an order the night before you need something, I have no qualms with kicking your ass.”

“Ah, but then my ass wouldn’t be pretty no more, would it? And what a shame that would be.”

“So conceited,” you said. But as he passed you to walk into the kitchen, you couldn’t help yourself from swatting at his ass. Leo yelped, his hands flying to his ass. He turned, looked at you scandalized. “Dunno, still looks pretty to me.”

“You’re awful.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

Leo stares at you for a long moment. You almost begin to wonder if you took things too far. You’d hardly said more than “hi” and “can I get an amaretto sour?” over the last few years. Was this crossing a line? But finally, he offers you a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Thank you so much, again,” Leo said the next morning when he came to pick up the cake. “I owe you big time.”

You shake your head as you ring him up at the cash register. “It’s for your Ma. I’d do anything for her after all the shit we put her through when we were kids.”

“True, but you really didn’t—” Leo frowned as he looked at the total. “Hey, where’s that huge rush fee you were telling me you were going to charge me?”

You raised a brow. “Are you really complaining about paying less?”

“When I made you stay after work for hours? Hell yeah I am. Charge me like anyone else!” Leo argued. 

“Not gonna happen. I already made you pay by forcing you to help me and listen to my Taylor Swift playlist the entire time.”

“Hey, I loved the Taylor Swift playlist! Now, you charge me whatever exorbitant fee you can think of right now!”

“No, no way. Consider it a gift to a friend. Or better yet, use the money you saved from not paying the fee to get your Ma a gift from me. I saw her eyeing a bottle of wine the other day. I could point the bottle out to you—”

Leo leaned over the glass case, narrowing his eyes at you. “Fine. I’ll let you waive the fee and buy Ma some wine. But only if you agree to let me treat you to dinner tomorrow night.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Consider it one,” he said. His face softens a little as he adds, “And maybe consider it an apology? For me being a shitty friend?”

You reached across the counter and patted Leo’s cheek. “For you? Of course.”

A grin stretched across the face. “Great. Come over to my place tomorrow around five?”

“It’s a date.”

Leo’s eyes twinkled as he confirmed, “It’s a date.”

He picked up the cake and left the store, but before shooting you a goofy smile and waved. You laughed, waving back. You were so engrossed with watching him jog across the street to his father’s restaurant that you didn’t notice Gabbie, your best cake decorator, sneak up beside you. 

“A date, huh?” she echoed.

You jumped. How did you not see her before? Had you been that lost in Leo’s pretty blue eyes? Trying to play it nonchalant, you shrugged. “I don’t think he meant it that way.”

She raised a brow. “Are we talking about the same man? Because, lemme tell you, I don’t think he’s ever looked that mesmerized with a girl before.”

Gabbie never saw him with Nikki, you wanted to say. But, instead, you said, “He just feels bad because I didn’t make him pay the rush fee after he ordered a cake last night. He just feels like he owes a debt. Italian men and their pride, ya know?”

“That wasn’t pride and you know it, girlie. Look, if you wanna delude yourself, fine. But I’m telling you, there’s something there.”

What Gabbie didn’t know about you was, you were the queen of delusion. You spend practically your entire childhood deluding yourself with the idea that one day Leo would see you for the woman you are, to realize that you were his soulmate. And you got your heart broke in the long run because of it. You weren’t about to let yourself get hurt again. Leo was not going to break your heart. You wouldn’t let him. 

“We’re just friends. That’s all.”

Gabbie eyed you, trying to see if there would be a crack in your resolve. “Whatever you say.”

When you came in to open the bakery the next day, you knew something was wrong. Mostly because Gabbie was standing at the door, waiting for you, with her arms crossed and a nasty look on her face. As you unlocked the door, you eyed her, trying to figure what was the source of her frustration. But all she did was turn her glare to the pizza shops across the street. And, well…Whatever that was about wasn’t good. 

You were caught between addressing the issue and waiting for her to finally say what was on her mind. You leaned toward waiting, so you began running through all of the opening tasks. Gabbie would open up soon enough. She just liked to stew in her anger before she vented. So, waiting was the best option. If you pushed, she would only get more annoyed. 

Finally, she asked, “You wanna know what I heard from Bella?”

You looked in her direction as you wipe down the counter. “Probably some rumor that could swing either way in its truthfulness.”

Gabbie huffed. “Don’t make jokes right now. This is serious!”

A frown settled on your face as you gave her your full attention. “What’d she tell you?”

“Nikki’s back in town,” Gabbie said as she placed a tray of cookies in the case. 

“Oh?”

You wanted to read into it. You really, really did. But you forced yourself to stamp down your assumptions, your worries. That part of you was probably being irrational, anyways. All Gabbie said was that Nikki was back and that could mean anything—

“Rumor has it she and Leo went back to his apartment last night,” she continued. She leaned in, her eyebrows raised. “After getting drunk together and playing soccer in the rain.” Her face screwed up like she was sucking on a Lemonhead. “Isn’t that romantic?”

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach. Of course. Of course he would take her back to his place. Why wouldn’t he? They were practically destined to be together. And with the family rivalry? It was a star-crossed lovers situation if you’d ever seen one. 

You swallowed your hurt. “So romantic.”

“So romantic I could kill him, you know,” Gabbie said. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain in your chest. “Don’t. I’m sure it wasn’t what it…I’m sure he…Fuck, I don’t know. But don’t kill him, okay? Not until I get a chance to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t get to make you feel like he’s finally seen you for the incredible woman you are and then welcome her into his bed the second she rolls into town!” Gabbie argued. 

“He just said he was making me dinner to make off a debt. And I really don’t think he meant anything when I said it’s a date. Really, it would be my fault for reading into it—”

“I’m going over there right now to give a piece of my mind—”

You grabbed Gabbie by the elbow, stopping her on her warpath. “Don’t. Please.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. Gabbie looked through the window at the restaurants across the street. If looks could kill, she would probably have exploded those buildings. “You’re too good for him, you know.”

But not good enough, you wanted to say. 

The entire day, the questions of what could be happening between Leo and Nikki ate at you. Was there something between them? Were they finally acting on the tension that existed between them for all those years? Had you let your hopes get too high when Leo promised your dinner? If you went to his apartment, would you be left with only pain and heartache? 

Though Gabbie was harboring all of your anger for you, she did her best to try to distract you. To not let your mind wander too far. But it was all for naught. Because, when you left the bakery, all you wanted to do was run home and forget all of this happened. If you ignored this, if you pretended you forgot, you could avoid all of the hurt. You wouldn’t be giving Leo the power to break your heart. And, in some ways, running away made you weak, but at least it would keep you whole. 

Nothing could have prepared you to see Nikki standing out when you reached Leo’s apartment. Had Leo forgotten that he had made plans with you? Were you that replaceable? You took a deep breath, trying in vain to steady your nerves, and walked up, hitting the buzzer for Leo’s apartment. 

Nikki looked at you, her brows furrowed together. She almost looked like she had something snarky she wanted to say before she realized who you were. “Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“That’s what happens you put an ocean between us,” you teased. You hoped you sounded lighthearted. You hoped bitterness didn’t creep into your voice. 

If it did, Nikki didn’t give any indication. She held a hand up in defense. “Hey, you got me there. What’re you doing here?”

You nod at the door. “Leo promised to make me dinner.”

Nikki’s face drops. “Oh, shit. Are you two—”

“He just owed me, is all,” you are quick to add. “He ordered a cake for his Ma after I already closed for the day, and he needed it the next morning. I wouldn’t charge him the rush fee, so he insisted he make me dinner as a repayment.”

“Italian men and their pride,” she laughed. She glanced up at Leo’s apartment. “So, is he…?”

“Seeing anyone? Nah, he loves the single life too much for that,” you said. “What about you? What’re you doing here?”

Nikki raised the soccer ball she had had tucked under her arm. “I just came to see if he wanted to play a game or two. We tried last night, but it was pouring the rain and we were drunk, so not really a fair competition. Gotta see if I can still kick his ass or not, ya know?”

You laughed. “I’m sure you could. His pride gets to him, so he’s still easy to knock down a peg or two.”

“Right?” Nikki’s face dropped. “Oh, shit. I can go? Because you already have plans with him and all—”

Before you could say anything, the door swung open. Yours and Nikki’s head snapped to look at him. Leo looked between the two of you, as if this perhaps was his worst nightmare. His gaze settled on Nikki first. “Hey!”

Nikki smiled. God, she had a beautiful smile. You could see why Leo always had a thing for her. “Hey! I just came to see if you wanted to play a few rounds?”

Leo smiled, too. A part of you wished he would smile at you like that. But that was just the schoolgirl crush talking. It was never something that could actually happen. Not when his heart still sang for Nikki, even after all these years. “Yeah, I’d love to. Let me go get my shoes—” He paused, his head snapping toward you. “Wait. Actually, I already—”

“We can have dinner another time,” you said, already turning to walk away. “Not every day your best friend comes back to town, right? You can just, like, stop by the bakery when you get a chance and we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“Wait—”

“It’s no big deal, really—” You began to walk away, waving goodbye. “Nikki, make sure you get him some ice packs, yeah? For when you bruise his ego?”

Nikki let out a laugh, waving back at you. “Will do.”

You nearly made your escape when you heard Leo mutter something to Nikki. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you heard him chase after you. Though you wanted to turn, to see if he was choosing you, you kept going. You weren’t going to let him break your heart. But damn him. Damn him and his long legs and his long stride. 

Leo quickly overtook you, stopping in front of you, his hands held out in front of him like he was taming a velociraptor in Jurassic World. “Woah, woah. Stop, hey.”

You looked back at Nikki, who was staring at the two of you. “Go, Leo. I’m fine.”

“No, I promised you—”

“It’s Nikki, Leo. You could never say no to her before. I wouldn’t expect you to say no to her now.”

Leo’s brows furrowed together. He almost looked confused. But, how could he be? Was he really so oblivious to how he preferred Nikki over you for all those years? Did he forget in the few minutes that had passed that he was ready to ditch dinner with you to play soccer with her? Did he think you hadn’t noticed all of that? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s obvious you’re into her. I’m not going to get between that.”

“There’s nothing going on between Nikki and I.”

You raised a brow. Seriously? Was he really going to route? Latching onto a technicality—that they weren’t really together? “But you want there to be. I mean, you have been head over heels for her since we were kids.”

“That’s not true!” Leo almost sounded desperate, like he couldn’t believe you were saying all of this. Was he this in denial about his feelings?

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah? Then how come for years you chose to be with her over me? At every field trip, you wanted to be her buddy. For every group project, you chose her. How many times did you two run off without me? Leo, you didn’t even show up after my mother’s funeral because you spent the week helping Nikki look for her lost cat—”

“That’s not fair—”

“Whenever that stupid feud between your families started and you two couldn’t be friends anymore, you stopped hanging out with me. I wasn’t even fucking surprised by it, you know? And that maybe hurt more than you not being my friend anymore. Because you always meant more to me than I did to you. You haven’t spoken to me in years, and you only did because you needed something for your Ma. I’m not your first pick, and that’s okay. But what isn’t okay is you trying to rewrite history when you don’t like being confronted with the reality.”

Leo said your name softly. He reached for you, but you took a step back. You wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him hurt you. 

You took a breath. “Go, have fun with Nikki. Forget you even promised me dinner, okay? Consider your debt forgiven.”

Leo tried to reach for you again, but you stepped around him. He turned to look at you, but you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You mean more to me than you think.”

“But not more than her.” You took another breath. You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes. It took everything in you to not cry. Because you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Not in front of him. “Let’s just go back to the way things used to be, yeah?”

“I don’t want to—”

“But I do. I won’t play second fiddle anymore. I won’t let myself be hurt anymore.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“And that might be the worst part.” 

You walked away, pieces of your heart leaving a path between you and him. If this was a movie, if this was a silly little romance novel, Leo might have been standing there, trying to collect the pieces so he might put your heart back together again. But, when you were turning a corner, you spared a glance back at him.

He was walking with Nikki, an arm around her shoulders. 

The one thing about Leo was, he listened. So when you told him you wanted things to go back to the way they used to be, you knew he would abide by that wish. And he did. The most you ever saw of Leo was when you glanced out the bakery window and happened to catch him coming in or leaving his father’s restaurant, or when you ordered something at Luigi’s whenever Gabbie managed to drag you out. And when you did see him, you would never meet his gaze. You didn’t want to be faced with his hurt, or, worse, his indifference. It was better that you forgot the brief glimmer of hope that Leo liked you in the same way you liked him. 

Gabbie would tell you that he was always looking your way, but you felt like she was only trying to make you feel better. Why would Leo bother himself with you? He finally had everything he could have wanted. It didn’t matter that you were not a part of his life, because it had never mattered that you were not a part of his life. If it had mattered, then how could Leo have spent all these years not paying you any mind? Little Italy was little. For Leo to avoid you, he would have had to gone out of his way to do so. 

Sometimes, though, when you were in your apartment, you’d look out the window and imagine that Leo was out there, about to confess his love for you like this was one of those cheesy rom coms you held so dearly. He was never there.

If you were honest with yourself, you were a little surprised at how much it hurt. You had been no stranger to Leo’s absence before. So why did it feel like he had ripped out your heart and stomped it? (Damn him. Damn him for giving you a glimmer of hope.)

“Eat.”

Gabbie dropped a plate in front of you on the coffee table. You eyed the slice of pizza, your nose wrinkling. As you pushed the plate away, you grumbled, “Seriously? You break into my home and put pizza in front of you?”

“It’s from across town. Not even a pizzeria in Little Italy. It’s, like, the ultimate form of rebellion.” Gabbie sat next to your curled up body on the couch and reached out to rub your back. “You need to eat something besides the scraps at the bakery. I mean, it’s not even something healthy, so you can be in your eat-junk-and-cry spiral.”

“I would rather just be sad.”

“You can be sad and eat.”

“And I haven’t been crying.”

Gabbie raised a brow. She didn’t look like she believed you. You could hardly blame her. Ever since that day, you had been elbows deep in a shame spiral, trying to forget the hope you felt that Leo might, just finally might, like you the way you always liked him. 

“I haven’t. Really, Gabs. I just…want to watch sad movies and pretend that he never showed up at the bakery.”

“You can’t even say his name, you can admit that you’re hurt—”

Gabbie was silenced at a loud knock at your door. She looked at you, her brows furrowed together. But you had no idea who it was either. You hadn’t ordered anything on lately, you hadn’t ordered takeout, and you certainly hadn’t invited anyone over. Gabbie was only here because she had a key to your apartment. 

Who else could it be?

“Do you want me—?”

You shook your head, pushing yourself up. No, you had to see this. You had to see who had the audacity to show up. You wrapped your blanket around your shoulders a little more securely and  padded over to the door. As you took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself, when another series of knocks rapped at your door. You reached for the knob, turning it slowly, and pulled the door open. 

What stood on the other side made you want to slam the door shut again. And he seemed to know you had that very thought. 

Leo reached out, sticking his hand out, stopping the door from shutting. “Please.”

Your lip quivered. Fuck. You had been holding it together so well before. But now that he was here, standing in front of you, all of those emotions you were trying your damned hardest to ignore, were rising straight to the surface. But you couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not now. 

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

Leo stepped closer to you, stepping into the threshold of your apartment. Part of you wanted to push him out, kick and scream, tell him that he didn’t have the right to force himself into your life, to pick you up and act like your friend when it was convenient to him. That you were a person, and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. But another part of you, the part that still hoped for good things, wanted to pretend this was your rom com moment where the guy makes a grand love confession that sparks the happily ever after. 

“You did. And I tried, I really did. But I missed you.” He tried to reach out for you, but you jumped out of the way. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know that doesn’t make this any better, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to get this right.”

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt the tears start to prick. “You’re just saying this because you feel bad. You don’t…Look, just go be with Nikki. Don’t feel like you have to grovel or whatever for me. I’m fine. I’m a big girl.”

When you opened your eyes again, Leo looked like he might cry himself. But…That didn’t make anything. Why would he get emotional over this? He was the one breaking your heart? “Nikki isn’t the one I want. I-I don’t know that she ever was.”

A frown settled on your face. That…No, that didn’t make any sense. Nikki had always been the one he gravitated towards. Nikki was the one he always chose. You were just there. “I don’t understand.”

Leo took a step closer to you. This time, you didn’t move away. Not when he stood so close that you could feel his breath fan across your face. Not when he cradled your face in his hands. Not when his thumbs brushed away the tears that managed to fall. “I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

“B-But Nikki—“

“What about her?” Leo took a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. “I thought, once, that she was who I wanted. But, I realized that I was lying to myself. Trying to trick myself into thinking I liked her because I thought she was someone I could be with. I, I never thought I was good enough for you. You’re a fucking angel, and all I’ve ever been is a little shit. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that you’d like me back.”

You sniffled. “You made me feel like you didn’t give a shit about me, Leo. You followed Nikki around like a puppy, and the second she left for London, it’s like you were finally free of me. Like you didn’t have to pretend to be my friend anymore.”

“I didn’t know how to talk to you. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s true. When Nikki was around, she was like a buffer. If I fucked up, she made sure things weren’t weird. With her gone, I was scared that I would lose you. I didn’t realize that I already was.”

You shook your head. “Then why were you going to ditch me to play soccer with her? Why, why did you take her back to your apartment the night she came back?”

Leo’s brows pinched together. “How, how did you know I—? She was drunk and she wasn’t ready to see her family yet. I offered her a place to stay. But nothing happened, I promise. She slept in my bed, I slept on the couch. That’s it.”

“And why you ditched me?”

“I was just excited to see my friend again, and I acted like a total ass. That was what I was trying to protect you from, because I knew that I would fuck up. I knew I would hurt you somehow without meaning to. I’ve been kicking myself ever since you left that day.”

You shut your eyes, leaning into his hand. You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to so bad. “What took you so long to say all of this?”

“I was trying to do what you wanted. I was scared to lose you anymore that I already had.” Leo took a breath. “Then I told Nikki what happened, and she chewed my ass out. Told me I needed to get my shit together because you weren’t going to be around forever. I don’t want to lose you. I never did.”

You wanted to argue more. You wanted to push harder. You wanted to ask more questions. Because this didn’t feel real. This was the sort of shit that only happened in movies and romance novels. This wasn’t your real life. But…He was here. And he loved you.

“Kiss me.”

Leo’s lips were on yours in a second. You could feel every ounce of desperation, of love, on his plush lips. He kissed you like a man running out of time. Like if he didn’t do this right, he would lose you. He kissed you like he was dying and you were breathing life back into him. It was everything you ever could have dreamed of. 

“Holy shit, this is better than a Hallmark movie.”

You jumped apart, your head whipping around. Shit. You forgot Gabbie was still there. She eyed Leo, like she still might kill him for hurting you. But then she smiled as he tried to hide his bright red face. 

“I think you still owe her a dinner.” Gabbie pointed to the pizza still sitting on the coffee table. “She’s starving, and refuses to eat that shit.”

Leo looked back to you, letting out a chuckle. “You want me to make you dinner?”

“Don’t let her tell you no. She hasn’t been eating anything but junk all week,” Gabbie said. 

“Gabbie!”

Leo’s brows raised. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? C’mon, let’s go back to my place and I’ll make you something nice, yeah?”

You smiled, reaching for his hand to hold. “I would like that very much.”

You quickly slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed your keys, ready to leave, when Gabbie called out, “Hey! If you break her heart, I get to break your neck!”

“Good to know!” Leo called back. To you, he whispered, “Your friend is scary.”

“And serious about the threat,” you said. 

He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well, she doesn’t have anything to worry about, because I’m not telling you go.”

[clumsiestgiantess]

At last! A new Erica pov! I’ve been rather busy with life stuff since it’s the holiday season and whatnot, but I’ve seen interest in the Erica pov I wrote all the way back in October, so here it is!

I recommend reading the original Ruler of Everything AU before reading this one. While this short does happen before the events of the original, it’s written with the intent that you know about the world this AU takes place in.

(Warning: There’s a bit of gore but nothing too detailed)

[Erica pov of the Ruler of Everything AU]

Once I became a complete puppet for my unknown puppet master, I didn’t think things could possibly get worse, but boy was I wrong.

For her — some sort of gigantic all-powerful person — one puppet wasn’t good enough.  She’s got the whole city and everyone in and around it under some sort of mind manipulation.  She gives them whatever they want, but they forget about everything horrible she’s done.  They forget about every time she’s crushed cars or leveled homes — everything.  And I feel like I’m going insane, because I’m the only one who remembers.

For whatever reason, probably because I’m the first she’s controlled, my captor likes keeping me around.  She lets me remember everything, but she keeps telling me it doesn’t matter if I do, because nothing here is ‘real’.  I’m not sure what she means by that, but it’s.. upsetting.

Today, I’m at her desk.  I’m a little living figurine with a little corner of her desk set up with a beanbag chair and mini fridge just for me.  Her hand reached for me absentmindedly as she looked over a paper she’d slid through the growth machine.  What I wouldn’t give to slip into one of those myself — give my captor the wake-up-call she deserves.  However, the machine is built like a copier; the only thing that can fit in it is paper.  

I complained lamely as her gigantic fingers coiled around my torso.  There was no use trying to actually get my discomfort across to her.  Alexis doesn’t believe I’m real.  She won’t care how much I yell, though I can’t help but struggle.  I’m brought away from the safety of the desktop and pressed into her palm.  It’s slightly rough, and I wedge my shoulder against it.  I gasp — accidentally shifting myself out of a safe grip.  Grasping desperately at her skin, I begin slipping down her hand.

Seconds away from screaming for help, Alexis’ fingers quickly slide up behind me.  They tuck behind my back and beneath my arms, hauling me up into her hand again.  “I’ve got you,” she mumbles without taking her eyes off the paper.  My heart slams wildly around my ribcage in terror.  You’re fine, you’re ok, it’s fine, everything’s fine.  Despite her being.. her, Alexis had never once dropped me further than a few feet — and that was only because I’d writhed in her grip and struggled my way out.  She had quick reflexes for someone so unnaturally gigantic.  Even if they often lead to bruises, it was still infinitely better than letting me fall.

My throat choked shut as her fingers laced against me.  They slid across my arms, her thumb atop my chest.  A giant digit nestled between my legs to offer me a place to sit, causing me to squirm uncomfortably.  A rumbling chuckle causes the actual air around me to vibrate like a clap of thunder — stilling me instantly.  

“It can’t be that bad,” she sighed, bringing me in front of herself with a little smile.  I returned it nervously.  Alexis brushed her thumb gently over the top of my head, stroking my frazzled hair.  I had to bite my tongue to keep from snapping at her to stop petting me.  “You must know by now that I’m not going to hurt you.  I’ve been taking good care of you for so long, yet you still somehow don’t trust me.”  

Alexis giggled, squeezing and rubbing my limbs through her threaded fingers.  I swallowed my scream of helpless fear down to only a brief yelp.  She flinched at the sound, but continued massaging me around her hand like I was some kind of fidget toy.  I quickly shoved away the thought before I could think on it long enough to realize that I am a toy to her — or something of the sort, something that isn’t considered truly living in her eyes.

Fuck, it’s so awful.  My stomach churned nastily, reminding me exactly why I have to squash those thoughts before they develop any further.  All things considered, I was by no means in danger.  Alexis does take care of me — so much so I lose my mind over it.  Not having a shred of decision-making agency with what happens to me, where I go, or what I get to have is something I’d only wish on my worst enemies.  I’m not in physical danger, but mentally I’m on the verge of collapse.

I let Alexis do with me as she pleased — toying with me in her hand, threading me over and through her fingers, pinching my limbs to move them at her leisure.  Eventually Alexis truly focused on her work, and became all the more dangerous.  Unaware of what she was doing, the pads of her fingers suddenly dug into me; she squeezed inward, pinching little bits of my skin away from my body.  Almost instantly I felt bruises blooming across everywhere she touched.

It hurt so awfully my breath caught and crushed in my throat.  Her thumb pressed in on my stomach and chest, digging beneath my shirt and squeezing against my body.  I couldn’t even gasp a breath of air as my lungs crushed flat, followed by faint crackling noises that were likely my ribs detaching from me.  She rubbed her finger up and down my body as I tried desperately to breathe.  Her rough movements squishing and dragging my innards up and down with her stroking.

Finally managing to cry out in pain, I shoved uselessly at her.  “St- Stop!  You’re killing me!  PLEASE!”  Thankfully, Alexis quickly realized what she’d done and released me onto her desk.  “Oh!  I forgot I still had you in my hand!  It’s ok, I’ll put you back down,” she calmly told me as I fell to my knees.  I crumpled in on myself in agony, clutching my raw skin as hard as I dared.  Every breath hurt and came out as a wheeze.  “Why.. p-please…  Just make it stop!” I gasped out, the pain of it all making my eyes water.  A second later, I keeled over and vomited — just blood.

“Wait.. why are you-?”  Alexis gasped, “What did you do with it?”  The rumbling slide of wood on wood made the desktop shake as Alexis searched it for something.  “Why would you take it off?” she muttered, eyes rapidly scanning the desk.  “Where is-  Aha!”  Tearfully, I blinked up at her.  I could barely see through the black spots dancing in my vision.  Pinched between her fingers was a little bracelet.  Oh thank fuck.  Gently, Alexis held out a few fingers and I shakily placed my hand on them — coughing up blood because I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

The moment it slipped onto me, my whole body went numb until I felt like I wasn’t physically attached to anything at all, then every sensation came rushing back to me at once, this time perfectly fine and unhurt.

I lay there panting for a moment; my brain was still convinced I was deathly injured.  “Erica.”  Her stern voice commanded me upright.  “I gave this to you for a reason.  Remember when you asked me for it?”  I glared my strongest most hateful glare at her.  “I asked for you to stop using me like a toy!  I asked you not to hurt me!”  “So I gave you that bracelet!  You can’t be injured when you wear it!”  I shot to my feet, storming as close to her as I dared.  “I don’t want your dumbass magic shit!  I WANT YOU TO TREAT ME WITH AN OUNCE OF FUCKING RESPECT!  IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

Alexis stared at me, shook.  “I don’t give a damn if you think I’m ‘real’ or not, but you can clearly see I’m a person, right?  Treat me like one!”  She swallowed weakly, “but you.. are a toy.  I- I’ve seen what you are — what your world is.”  A brief drop of existential dread briefly halted my anger.  Too disoriented to continue arguing, I simply told her to put me down.  Alexis left me on the floor and I marched out of her room.

Really, I had no clue what she meant when she said those kinds of things, but they scared me.  Every time an argument leads down the path of ‘nothing you know is real; I’m the only real one, and no one you know including you can do anything that matters’ I end up with nightmares for days.  What does she know that I don’t?  Obviously it isn’t the truth… but what the hell has she seen to believe that?  What aren’t I seeing?  I sighed as I stepped into my ‘home’.  For fuck’s sake she makes me live in a goddamn dollhouse.

I sat heavily on the sofa just inside, staring down at the bracelet on my wrist.  Slowly, I reached down and felt around my torso, fearfully checking that everything really was alright.  If she’d pressed on me any harder I would’ve.. fuckin… burst.  If I died, would she let me live again?  Could she let me live again?  Do I even want to keep living like this?

All I could think of was how hellish my life would become the longer I stayed trapped in here.  It was only a matter of time before I snapped and started truly believing Alexis.  I didn’t know why she believed what she did, but there had to be a way to get her to see the truth.

God, that’s what she says to me.  ‘Isn’t there some way I can get you to believe me and see the truth?’  This is why I get fucking nightmares.  If- If I’m not real, what am I?  I’m living to one day escape this awful place, but what then?  Where do I go?  I don’t have money, I don’t have anything that hasn’t been given to me by Alexis.  

How did I manage to end up stuck with someone worse than John?  I hadn’t even finished getting away from him before she came and stole me.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps thundered through my sad excuse for a home — their tremors rattling things off of shelves.  I’m going to start leaving everything on the floor at this point.

I flung myself down the hallway and rushed for the little closet beneath the stairs.  My ‘home’ is actually quite nice — a gigantic mansion-like place that had several floors and everything you could ever want in a home, and even some things you’d never need.  However, the colossal building is nothing compared with the giant one it sits inside of, belonging to the person — if that’s even what she is — who just stepped in.

The frightening whack of something large hitting the wall rang repeatedly from the side of my house.  The horrible giantess rapped on the wall beyond my hiding place.  “Hello?  Anyone home?”  I flinched, though I knew it was coming.  Keeping silent would do me no good.  If she really wanted, Alexis could reach out with a horrifying sixth sense and immediately know how to get to me.  So instead, I answered her.  “No!  Go away!”  A brief silence deafened me, followed by a patronizing ‘aww’ that made me feel like strangling someone.  Preferably her.

“Still a bit worked up?” she asked me, voice raised like she was speaking to an animal or small child.  “Yeah, I’m fucking pissed at you!” I answered angrily.  “Go away.”  A creaking groan echoed ominously through the house; she had NOT went away.  My heart skipped a beat and bile heaved up my throat as I piled a few cleaning supplies in front of me, putting as many objects between me and her as I could.  That groan always happened every time she pulled out a wall.  

The single most awful thing about this place is that a giant like Alexis could open up the walls to any room she wanted like a, well, a dollhouse.  The only one she couldn’t get to was this one and one of the bathrooms.  A while ago I’d hidden in that bathroom; she’d crushed the connected bedroom and tore a gigantic hole in the place just to drag me out of hiding ‘accidentally’.  Either I believe it was an accident and she really has that kind of strength, or it was purposeful and she’ll claw her way through anything to get me.

God, I feel sick.  Please just let me have one hiding spot, please.  The feeling of hiding from someone bigger than me — locking myself in somewhere so I don’t get hurt — it brings back such nasty memories of my childhood.  I hate it here.  I hate it here so much.

“Erica?  Where are you?”  Sounds of furniture being carelessly knocked over rumbled through my little hiding place.  Closer and closer, the sound of scraping dragged its way to the door.  My eyes widened as splinters of wood cracked inward from outside — my eyes tearing up as I clasped my hands over my mouth to keep from shrieking.  “Ohh you’re in here,” I heard her quietly gasp in the same volume as a strong gust of wind.  The door cracked down the middle.  Pressure sent wooden shards flying into the room.

Sobbing, I buried my head between my legs — curled up in the far corner beneath every object I had in the cramped space.  “Don’t come in!  You can’t come in here!”

Silence.  The tension on the fractured door released.  “Why?”  I panted for breath, trying my best to speak instead of vomit.  “I- I don’t want you in here.  This place is mine.  You said it-” I had to close my mouth as an awful acidic taste hit my tongue.  Nervously, I swallowed it.  “You said I could have it to myself.”

“I.. guess I did say that, didn’t I?” Alexis mused.  “Alright, I’ll leave you in there.”  I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the cracked wooden door groaned with the release of her finger.  

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.  Even if you are a toy, you’re clearly sapient.”  Everything was so silent I felt like I was choking; a keening noise cut through the silence, abruptly stopping when she spoke again.  “You- You aren’t a doll.. in this world.  I’m sorry for treating you like one.  I’ll stop fiddling around with you, I- I’ll stop dressing you and carrying you from place to place.  You’re so cute sometimes I forget that you have autonomy.”

My face heated up in angry embarrassment.  It was really starting to feel like some sort of awful confession rather than an apology, though I knew all of it.  I was all too aware of what she’d done to me — how many lines she’d crossed and boundaries she’d overstepped.  How much of an object I am to her.  Or.. was?

“You’Ll-” my voice cracked.  “You’ll stop?  You’ll let me go home?”  “You are home,” she told me, “I can’t let you leave here, but I can let you have some space.”  I was such a mixture of overwhelmed by both disappointment and excitement that I toppled over as I tried to stand.  “You can start that right now!  Close the house!  Don’t open it again.  Just.. knock.  Carefully.  If you really have to.”  I peered out of the closet doorway just long enough to watch the wall fit back into place.  “Can I go outside or-”

“Don’t push it,” Alexis interrupted.  “You stay in here.  I’ll let you do whatever you want — to a degree, don’t burn the place down or anything,” she chuckled, “But you’re not allowed out there.  I can’t risk letting anyone besides you know what I’m doing.”  By ‘what I’m doing’ she meant the way she casually erased everyone’s minds of any events that might make people dislike her.  

No matter how many times I tried to convince her, or how many times I managed to prove that I was a real human being, she would never believe it.  She doesn’t want the truth.  That would make everything she’s doing horrific — not the fun little game that she sees it as.  She’s not going to stop.

I slept in the closet that night.

[kniveschaudefender]

Hiii if you're still doing requests for spto could I request Gideon Graves x transmasc reader? :3 Maybe he would be his assistant? But ofc I'm fine with anything <3

GIDEON GRAVES X T!MASC READER !!

hello chat ! im finally coming back with a request thats older than time bc scott pilgrim has sort of infested my brain again. anyway so sorry this is so late, kinda forgot i had this app again 😢😢

i feel like gideon was sort of iffy with it at first

it wasnt something he was used to, or atleast hadnt heard of at the time

but once you explain it, i think he’d understand

though he would ask the STUPIDEST questions till it finally got through his thick skull

“..So you wanna be a boy?”

he’s just slow. patience is VERY necessary during that talk

but once he understands, he’s the most supportive person ever

he’ll correct anyone and EVERYONE on everything

“Yeah, HE actually did that, so.” “can you make sure HE does this?” “Do you know where HE is?” he’ll emphasize to make sure people get the point

the BEST treatment out there just for you. he insists. youre his assistant after all! (i feel like people forget this guy is literally LOADED)

i feel like he’s really bad at comforting when it comes to dysmorphia.

like i said, he gets it but it doesnt mean he’s super educated. not like he would make / have the time to do research. he’ll just listen to what you say about it

so he’s HORRIBLE when a dysmorphia attack hits

and i mean he has ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what to do

i feel like he’d do a bit of research after the first few times, or if you asked

he’s getting better !!!

he’ll try whatever he can to help

binders, clothes, surgeries, makeup, even his words if he has to (which i believe hes horrible with), WHATEVER it takes

he becomes really determined to make you feel better

i feel like the only other thing he’d truely struggle with is names, especially if you’ve known him for a while

he got so used to your deadname, but he knows he cant keep calling you that

INSISTS you correct him, even if you say it’s fine

might take a while but he tries to get used to it as fast as he can (which is suprisingly pretty fast, pressure works)

but he loves and cares for you, no matter what you are or how you feel :3

[vonpharma]

w[h]ip wednesdaaaay

sorry for the hiatus! i finally just bit the bullet and set an alarm on my phone so i won't forget to post lol. here's a small preview from day 5 of sicktember~

Hoisting his unconscious sister out of the office stairwell was not exactly how Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth pictured his day going.

In his time alive he’d seen quite a few strange things go down in that stairwell. It was practically a second home to him, after all—twelve flights up, twelve flights down, it made nearly everyone cringe when he’d tell them how much of his day was spent hiking to and from his high-rise office. He probably could’ve benefitted from relocating, but it was honestly very convenient, getting all his cardio in before even his morning cup of tea. 

Yes, he’d seen a lot of things going on in that stairwell. Highly dramatic personal phone calls. Potentially shady dealings involving discontinued snacks from the vending machine. Overworked interns sneaking away for naps. Larry, once. 

One thing Miles had never seen upon these stairs, though, was Franziska. 

When they were children, it was a tradition, of sorts. They’d arrive in front of the foggy elevator doors—it didn’t matter where they were—and Miles would instinctively clench his fists, making the best attempts to muster all his courage. Back then, he was small, and he felt even smaller standing poised before the massive shape of them, his murky reflection refusing to crystallize in tandem with his nerve. Franziska, ever the little empath, would grab his hand tight in hers and drag him to the stairs. After tapping her foot performatively for a few seconds and complaining of how long the elevator took to arrive, we might as well use them with the foolishly slow descent of that foolishly inferior contraption.

Of course, children grow up. Miles never had a childhood to grow out of, but Franziska always did the most to sprint leaps and bounds ahead of him. At some point in their adolescence, she had stopped taking the stairs with him. There were no hard feelings, of course—but she had places to be and was more often than not in stilettos and pencil skirts. I’ll meet you at the top, she’d always say, and then grimace at him with her face all red when he (always, effortlessly, without breaking a sweat) arrived at their destination first.

The red on her face is a different shade, this time. A far less fortunate one, it would seem. Despite everything, Franziska is there in the stairwell with him once more. Only this time, she is not dragging him lovingly up the incline, but holding white-knuckle onto the railing as she makes her best attempt to climb, knees wobbling with the effort, drenched in sweat. Miles can see her forearms through the now-transparent sheen of her blouse, and despite how she’s perspiring, the poor girl is shaking like a leaf.

He stops there, at the top of the grouping of stairs that she’s making her best attempt to scale. Rigid, brow furrowed in concern, mouth firm. 

“Franziska?” says Miles. “Are you… quite alright?”

Her head, previously dipped toward the floor—watching her feet, nervous that they might fail her—snaps up to face him. The way she bears her teeth is somewhere halfway between a warning and a plea for help, pained and angry all the same. For a moment his blood runs cold as he remembers the last time he’d seen that look—blood coagulating on his car upholstery, a horrible scream echoing in his ears, tear-tracks refusing to dry on his cheeks. 

Curiously, her whip is unholstered, coiled in her free hand. As if she were announcing to the world that her guard is up, don’t come near. Despite the acid-drenched sheen of her glassy eyes, she maintains her hesitation in cracking it at Miles—instead just pointing, with the leather shaking haphazardly in her hand.

“You… don’t you—don’t you dare—!”

It’s all Miles can do not to visibly cringe when he hears her voice. A truly miserable-sounding affair, like bogie wheels struggling on miscut gravel. Come to think of it, Franziska had sounded a little croaky yesterday morning when she joined him for tea, and she had taken a little more honey than usual. But she didn’t seem ill otherwise, certainly not to this extent…

Miles isn’t really sure what to do, so he just kind of stands there awkwardly, lordly above her all the same. She manages to get herself up one single step before her knees buckle entirely, and Miles is already shuffling down to meet her, his body seemingly moving all on its own. 

Franziska’s a small fire in his arms as he catches her. Every square inch of her skin is scorching hot, singing Miles’ grip even through layers upon layers of perfectly pressed ruffles. In sleep, still, the tremors take her, and she’s breathing heavy and hard through her mouth. As he’s arranging her to something resembling bridal style in his arms, he thanks his lucky stars that his sister is such a small thing, hopes she will forgive him even for thinking so. Like this, especially, she looks so much smaller than usual.

[welcometomypov]

What is your viewpoint on the January 6th insurrection? Personally, regardless of political affiliation I feel as though it should be condemned, taking 1 Peter 2:17 into account— however, I’ve seen reports that President Trump plans to pardon those who took part. How would you feel about that, as well as the threats to repeat that event on a larger scale if Harris had won the election? I’m politically independent, and this sort of thing is one of the biggest problems I’ve had with the Republican Party and especially the MAGA side of it which seems to have grown more and more dominant.

I think that if Trump had any proof that the Democrats cheated in the election and they chose to respond with an insurrection when proof is ignored, that they would be entirely in the right.

As the Democrats keep saying, "It's the right of the people to abolish the government." (What they forget, is the implications that most of America needs to be ticked off in order for it to work or even work out, and not just the minority. As Trump has proven, he's not on the minority side rn.)

But the proof of such isn't becoming clear until very recently, with (as rumor has it) so many voters 'suddenly' appearing in the 2020 election to elect Biden and then 'suddenly' going missing in 2024?

It's definitely suspicious. But I won't say I have any definite idea of what's going on with that. Trump or Biden trickery? We don't know.

However, I am keeping an eye out to find out what is uncovered.

The insurrection should never have happened because he had no proof. It was not a smart thing for him or for any of his followers to do. It should have been a peaceful protest. It should never have gotten violent and Trump should never have encouraged it.

I haven't seen anything about him promising it worse. So I won't comment on something that I haven't looked into myself.

But he's always been a pretty radical man. That's why we like him.

(Not for this specific radical view. But for others.)

I'm not surprised that more than 2,000+ Republicans showed up because there are 2,000+ Democrats right now who would do the exact same thing if Kamala called them to do it.

Look at the anger and the threats. Look at the post about it running around Tumblr right now that I've seen reblogged to at least three different Republican accounts who are like 'you know this is what Trump did right?'. Insurrection is apparently on people's minds.

Don't tell me radical Democrats wouldn't do it if given the chance.

That's a lie that anyone on any side would spot a mile away.

The thing is...

I don't think the insurrection was as devastating and horrible as the media preaches that it was considering everything that I've heard from Democrat and Republican sources.

The news overkills the severity.

But that doesn't make it okay. And, once again, I'm forced to set my head in my hands and wonder why Trump is the way he is.

I don't have any 'right' opinion on him pardoning those guys.

I don't know. I really don't know the right call.

The idea of justice recently is... Well...

Kamala brought illegal immigrants in and many have spent their freedoms raping and killing people, and I wasn't supposed to want them in prison or kicked out... Democrats have been rioting and breaking into stores, homes, and harming/threatening people, but those are forgiven because they were upset about their social status... But then I'm supposed to believe it when the Democrats say that January 6th is the worst thing that's taken place in America in recent years? People weren't allowed to be upset when they believed the most important election for the American people was cheated and stolen? That everyone there deserves to be in prison but we'll allow the two previous stated examples to go unchecked?

Do you see why the justice ideals in America tires me?

It doesn't matter what I say. They're all in the wrong in God's eyes. But America chooses right and wrong based on whatever works best for the narrative that's most popular or supported.

In fact, if I try to look up any of the Democrat riots, I'm blasted with tons of articles about January 6th. Almost like the internet is trying to prevent me from seeing past a certain narrative.

I'm not a lawyer. I'm not a police officer. I don't know what's best for those guys or if they deserve to stay in prison.

I'll leave that up to someone with more knowledge than me.

Thank you for the ask. I appreciate your time and curiosity :)

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi Muffin! I was wondering if you had any advice on how to write a character going through a traumatic situation. I’d appreciate any suggestions you can give me!

Caveat

Sadly, I don't really have a bag of tricks and I'd side-eye anyone who gives you "Write X in ten easy steps!" (side note, I once saw a post on how to write humor/what humor actually is that was... it itself was hilarious, but it would not make you in any way funny.)

There's no "trauma on, transformation go!!!!" button that you can easily press to do this... or really write anything for that matter. If it was that easy, everyone would be doing it.

That said some advice I've got...

Read Things/Watch Things

Look to see how other people have done it. Read books where what you're looking for, in this case traumatic situations, happens to the characters and see how the author's handle it. See both things you think work well, and things you don't, and ask yourself what the difference is and why.

Other media like film/plays are different mediums, so it's a little different, but you can at least still see what they do in terms of lighting, cinematography, editing, acting, dialogue, and so on and ask yourself what, about this, is really capturing the essence of what you're looking for.

What is Trauma, Here, Exactly?

Pinpoint when/what exactly is happening. Is this long after a terrible event has occurred and the character is trying to process it? Are they going through this horrible event right this second, and are trying to process it? Is this a sudden, horrible, singular moment or is this a long running/repeated event that the character has had to suffer through?

These all dictate wildly different things.

As does who the character is.

Is this someone who puts on a brave face, a mask, that is slowly breaking down over time/then suffers a fatal blow due to some catalyst? Is it someone who has not recovered from this at all/hasn't even given the semblance of recovery to observers? Do they linger on what happened unwillingly? Are they in forced denial about what happened?

Different people have different reactions to these sorts of events.

People are People

And also remember that people are... interesting and not always direct.

They may put on a very brave face but be irritable and moody for reasons they can't explain/come up with other excuses to justify why they feel this way. They may become more forgetful/tired/clumsy though not really notice themselves and if they do/it's pointed out to them, justify it away as something else.

Whoever your characters are, even if they appear to be handling everything great, chances are there's going to be a significant shift to their behaviors and personalities as they're going through this shit.

And it's not always going to be in something palatable or something people recognize as being traumatized over an event.

And it may be something that happened years ago, that the character thinks they've processed and gotten a hold of... but still colors their decisions in ways they do not realize/that most people wouldn't unless you deeply understand that this happened to this person.

[anonzentimes]

I've kind of realized something after spending a while digging through various fic recommendations. If a fic is recommended by TVTropes, there's a high likelihood that the characterization of Nagito is gonna be pretty bad. The site's consensus on the character is pretty much a distillation of all the most shallow Reddit takes on the character. "Nagito's a static character", "He gets sexually aroused by Hope", "Hajime despises him (no we're not projecting and using him as our self-insert)", etc. etc. Oh, and can't forget to indulge the bullshit theory about him maybe having raped Monaca. Like it's almost comical just how much whoever wrote his Trope Pantheon entry clearly despised him. With Nagito being shat on to a much greater extent than other fictional characters who've done mountains worse than him (looking at you Harley Quinn).

Also that kind of goes for the various story blogs I've seen around this site. I'm struggling to think of a single one where the characterization of him didn't engage in some sort of petty bashing. Mudslinging that the people making them will defend by crying "We're just giving him REAL character development that the OVA didn't". The New Future and Survivor are some of the worst examples of this.

the moment I read reddit takes on the character in reference to Nagito you KNOW I was shaking in my boots at what horrendous things would be coming up and then you start listing the worst of the worst dirt that gets thrown on him from people who fundamentally hate or misunderstand him and it just got progressively worse like

It’s crazy how bad the mischaracterizations and arguments can be over Nagito it’s so ridiculous… I have a desire to understand most everything I love and fear mischaracterizing or misunderstanding the characters I love and seeing people be so relentlessly unforgiving mischaracterizing him is always so crazy to me Lol. I know the entire point is that there’s a misunderstanding so people usually don’t understand or aren’t self aware of it, which is the scariest part about it in my opinion, but my god it’s dreadful the things these people do and say. I’ve had people in my inbox scream that it’s not that big of a deal and it’s so annoying, like yes it matters because the character matters to people. Not to mention most of the mischaracterizations are usually rooted in some sort of ableism and homophobia it’s truly dreadful. The reason I’ve ever even gotten any traction I’m pretty sure is because apparently being decent and understanding Nagito without bashing him is something people applaud me for Lol. I don’t think I’m that special, but when there’s so many annoying people over this character and when people find someone who is not like that who can and attempts to articulate things about the complex character I think people enjoy it. Even if there’s a good amount of people who understand his character the amount that bash on him, are homophobic towards him, ableist towards him, and mischaracterize him, is just so extremely disgusting that it feels offensive. There is no reason that stupid “theory” about Monaca should ever exist other than disgusting filthy minds who should rethink about their place in this world. I hate them very much. I’m glad I can provide something good for him, at least hopefully, because he means so much to me. I wish everyone could understand him because the misunderstandings he has are so disgustingly extreme and horrible. I understand that he is a complex character but I will NEVER tolerate stupidly horrendous reddit takes throwing dirt on him ever.

[gayspock]

OK shutting up

idont care i just don't want tk have to make it through today or through tomorrow or through any day. It's just so fucking pointless and I just fucking don't fuckin care. i just want it all to stop and that's all I fucking want and I don't fucking want anything else other than that and I thijnk I'm nothing but that and I dint fucking know what else there is and don't fucking care and I don't really fucking don't. I think there's always that sort of resentment that just keeps building like I fucking can't fucking stand anyone and everyone else any more cbut man 2hats the point. What's the point of any of it. It's the same cuz no matter what I think or feel it's just. Like that's it right it's just me in my fucking vacuum that I'm taking off the edge of the cliff. and I don't know what I'm doing even fucking spiralling cuz it never matters it never means anything in the end it's just so fucking worthless it hurts so fucking bad all the fucking time it means nothing and it just rolls over and you try it and means nothing and you do nothing and it means nothing I feel so fucking crazy I just don't fucking care ajd that doesn't matter either fucking insanity I feel fucking insaneand. I don't know how other people do it I don't know. How everyone else just. Can live some life where there's any part of it that matters and is tangible like. I mean i

tanginle too THSI stupid fuckkng haze that just fucking consumes yoy when you go so so so so fucking long without anything without anyone to talk to without anyrhing ever at all but jsut fucking g9db fucking who cares 8 don't know I don't fucking know I can't live through it 8 can't fucking do it 8 just. Its embarrassing I jsut can't get a grip that out of all the fucking shit it was to go through it all at the end I'm going to be nothing but just some fucking loser that people are going to judge for never doing enough who dug their hole and and I just want to curl up and die and I just don't want to think about it I just. I knew it was this it was always this die alone and even that you can't have that fuckingthing without it always just being a mockery like i jsut. 8 don't know I don't know I feel fucking crazy sometimesits about the fuckinglocked doors the way it leads nowhere I wish it mattered when I say I wish it mattered i mean it just anything did anything ever matter ever not even once I jsut. How how how how I just 8 don't fucking care I just. Why is it always like that why is 8t you don't ever do enough when I can't do any more and even then it's like so fucking utterly pointless why can't I just. Count for something without trying so hard and never getting anywhere why does everyone else just fit into something

somewhere and 8 don't know I don't fucking care it's. I can't fucking ever click with it I can't man and at the end of the day what what what you didn't do it try enough if you were this we would have liked you you do that you do that I can't keep doing that I don't know I JSUT. Horrible fucking envy for people who have some fucking thing to go to because everyone always says it were all lonely and they might spend a few days alone but they have friends and loved ones at the end of the day and people who will notice if they jump off the bridge and pets who they can love and touch and have had some partner or have a partner and friends who just include them without feeling like every fucking time it's like trying to fucking wrench yourself into a space that was never there for you when nobody else there has to fucking beg and try so hard please stop forgetting I exist you walk away and you disappear from everything when everyone else was just automatically assumed to count and it's just. I don't fucking know oh you disappear you disappear of course it's your fault youll never bmhave friend alike that when it's like you spend years trying too hard and it hurts worse tenfold when you're still just fucking pathetic and begging constantly for scraps of attention for people you're never even second best to and people who wouldn't give a shit even if you did talk to them in genuine you know it you've been dismissed by them ten billion times oh why don't you you know damn well wht but it doesn't matter at the end of the day because all of that was just nothing and it continues to be nothing as I felt it deep as it was and I'm right but unfortunately that's all I fucking have and I can't even have that to share I die alone fine OK what matters what counts

[scullysflannel]

alias season 3 is not even close to as good as seasons 1 and 2 (what is) but what I love is it's so MAD. from everyone else’s perspective sydney bristow came back from the dead; from sydney’s perspective, which is also ours, she woke up one day and found out two years had passed and everything was different. everyone wants her to smile and be gentle and instead she seethes. I will never ever forget the feeling of being 14 years old and expecting her to say yes of course I'm fine when vaughn came to check on her, only for her to eviscerate him and tell him she's doing horrible and by the way he was a bad boyfriend for not believing she was alive after they identified her dead body in the charred remains of her apartment. that one rewired my brain. it was better that she was barely making sense. women didn't have to be small; women could be fucked up in a way that takes up space. sydney's a brilliantly realized character in the first two seasons of alias — she's self-righteous alongside her vulnerability, and as smart as she is she gets rash and illogical whenever it gets personal — but the way she and the show keep so many balls in the air dazzles you into thinking she's always going to be able to cope this well. and then in season 3 she kind of comes back from the dead wrong. but not really back from the dead and not really wrong, because she's just keeping it real. she's being a little mean. she picks fights with her ex-boyfriend's new wife and admits "I hate her." and when her ex needs her help fixing the problems he caused, sydney stands in front of him in sunglasses with her arms crossed. cool! ALSO!!! her evil ex-boss has rehabilitated his image and is now a global humanitarian because bad men are given infinite second chances no matter how many bodies their empire is built upon. but sydney won’t forget. she literally has no memory of his rehabilitation, and neither do we, and she's not buying it, and neither are we. it’s a vacuum in the narrative. he asks her to believe he's done the work and she says no when no one else will. and isn't that how the whole world feels. 

it’s a season of almost complete isolation in the wake of this violent series of violations: her body, her mind, her home, her relationship, and now she’s even being told she should be nicer to the man who killed her fiance and her best friend. and I’m not letting the writers off the hook for one of those violations (they took her ova), but the way the season and the show are anchored in her perspective is emotionally visceral in a way that covers a few sins. when sydney was a child she was hardwired not to be brainwashed (trained by her father, one of the only men she actually gets closer to in season 3 — a violation circling back around to being the only kind of love she knows) and I think alias is sort of like that. it’s so hardwired to tell the story from sydney’s point of view that even when it isn’t totally facing the consequences of the plot (she gets one episode to cry that they took her ova) they’re still deeply felt. one thing alias always understands is the cruelty of expecting a woman to smile through her suffering, so the more she suffers the angrier the show intuitively gets. so sydney just goes around biting people’s heads off

[whumpitisthen]

here's a quick rundown on astarion: gay vampire spawn (not a vampire. like a demo version vampire. a "lesser" one but don't let him hear that) who has been kept for 200 years by his master as a slave. guy (who was an actual vampire) carved him up, tortured him and forced him to lure victims into his manor. astarion has been abused in so many ways i'd hit some sort of character limit if i listed half of them. he was only allowed to feet on rats and small vermin in the sewers. poor little meow meow astarion is now free due to [game story] reasons and seeks power and revenge -- he's an edgy fuck with a lot of swag and no moral compass. bro is a menace and loves causing problems on purpose. [slight spoiler] he will literally try to suck some of your blood like a day or two after you meet him and unless you succeed a skill check he'll just keep doing it until you die. if you resurrect yourself afterwards he'll go like "ooooh ooopsie sowwy! i wouldn't kill you if i knew you'll be back teehee can we forget about this? ;) <3 don't fucking kill me". he's such a good fucking whumpee you don't even know. it's insane. i don't want to ramble but he's almost everything i've ever wanted from a character like this in a large scale rpg. [slightly bigger spoiler] despite being the go-to "fuckable" character who everyone finds hot as hell (both in-universe and online) he's HORRIBLY traumatized by his sexual experiences from when he used to be a slave and when you romance him a good portion of his storyline revolves around trying to make him realize that he's more than just a slab of very attractive meat. he hides his feelings behind a facade of "evil tumblr sexyman-esque" mannierisms and getting to finally peel it back and see him for the poor wet cat that he is is so fucking satisfying. [an even bigger spoiler] i loved watching him cry when he finally gets to confront his former master. pristine content. there's so much more to his character (and this game in general) but if you ever need to justify spending full price on a new videogame release, there's nothing better than bg3. if i could choose one game to beam directly into the brain of each whumpblr user, it'd be this one.

Okay so i already loved him from the very little information i had about him, but this is so delicious

I saw some pics of bad scars which are always hhh and heard that he is a whumpee but i didn't know the extent and now i think ive collected a new blorbo

You are telling me he meets his old master at some point...... and he cries..... and hes all sad....... he rly was made for tumblr but especially me youre telling me he has white hair and is a vampire twink who was a slave and hurt and traumatised and he has incredible sad wet cat energy and he only has a flimsy layer of confidence and absolutely no idea what morals are. i knew i needed to know more you have to understand my knowledge of the game stopped at the bear sex scene like that is it and yet i somehow always find the most pathetic little men no matter what in any media i could not give a shit about any of the rest i will consume the entire thing just to know the exact extent of his sad little life

Also i wish i had the opportunity to even consider buying a full price new release no matter how good the game is there is no world in which id be able to pay for that. Also idk about the gameplay either it seems very story oriented roleplay and almost dating sim-ish? Not a huge fan of those in general its gotta have more gameplay than walking around and basically watching a movie, but, again. No idea about anything, maybe it has incredible gameplay and i just dont know. Dont tell me if it does itll just make ms sadder bc that would absolutely make me wanna play it myself. Its kinda funny honestly the longer i spend not knowing anything the crazier everyone seems to me both online and irl. Its like im living in a separate world, i know no one who hasn't played this fucking game fjfhskhfd

[ofyorkshire]

🕯️

send 🕯️ for my character's inner thoughts on yours || accepting; mutuals or anons sending for red riding canons only

"You would like him. He looks like trouble, but he's a real American gentleman." BJ grinned, arms stuck loosely out at his sides as he balanced his way down the row of cement wheel stops. It was late, going on 2am, but between the bright car park lamps and the full, pale moon, BJ wasn't afraid. Home was just a stretch away—if he rounded past that laundromat ahead, their flat would be just beyond that at the end of the street.

"We met at a club," he said. "No work. Just out for some fun. He caught my eye as soon as he came up to the bar. He ordered this... this seltzer water thing, I think, and I guess I were starin' at him, like, 'cos he noticed me, and the way he smiled looked..." He trailed, weirdly self-conscious at the memory. Squirmy inside. BJ wobbled on the next step and paused, cupping his hands against his diaphragm where the discomfort felt most real. Horrible. Distressing. And a lot like feeling alive.

Deep breath in.

"...Well. Doesn't matter. We went to the toilets together and after ended up at a motel. Don't think he liked it much when I told him I didn't want to face him, but he didn't make a fuss. He were nice about it. About everything. A gentleman, like I said. Even gave us a kiss before he left."

Heat tickled around BJ's cheeks as he hopped to the next stop. Even to the night air, he couldn't confess everything in his head. As a rule, he tried not to think too much about TK and their one night together because it was never meant to be anything but one night, a sentiment that was harder to throw out the window now that they were, by some cruel chance, flatmates. It was hard to forget sometimes when TK's voice was gravelled from sleep, or when he was fresh from a shower, water still dripping from the ends of his messy hair and skin flush with soap and heat. Worse, it was almost impossible not to lean into fleeting every-day touches. The soft things that BJ was sure TK never even thought about before doing but made BJ ache all over. A soothing touch to the nape of the neck here after a bad dream, a delicate touch to the small of his back while passing in the confined space of the kitchen, a playful bump of knees while sitting on the couch watching a stupid romcom... Fleeting ghosts of human warmth and connection that BJ craved like food. On bad days he felt hollowed out with want, all sticky-outy ribs caging around a concave stomach growling for a meal it wouldn't know how to digest.

"We don't talk about it now," BJ said. "He had a bad breakup, you know. Fiancé. Mad bastard cheated on him, can you believe it?"

No answer.

Deep breath out.

"We're flatmates now. Sort of accidentally, but it's good. We share little potted plants, watch films on his off nights, he's—" wobble, "—trying to teach me how to swim. It's really... really normal. You know, like... it's... comfortable. Like we were. Almost." BJ stepped down onto the pavement. In the distance, a siren wailed and he began toward the laundromat. Best be heading home.

"TK introduced me to his team at the firehouse, too. Wouldn't let up suggesting it 'til I visited. I thought he was just being polite, but he meant it. Means most things. He's a social man. Likes bringing people together like family."

Several more sirens rose into the night air, making BJ's skin prickle. That was at least one ambulance and one firetruck.

"I think he's scared of being left behind, like his fiancé left him. Like his dad," BJ went on. "I think that's why he holds everyone together like he does. He tries so fucking hard and he's so obvious and I don't know if they notice. His dad doesn't." A tick in his jaw, he turned once to check his surroundings as he left the bright glow of the carpark lights. "You'd think that would change things between them, that one day he'd let it all out and tell his dad how much he hurt him. He doesn't though. Doesn't act the least bitter about it. But it does hurt him, and it comes out in other ways. Picking fights and runnin'... and little flings in filthy club toilets."

BJ passed the laundromat, walked without interruption down the street, keeping to the light, and soon mounted the stairwell.

"Think I love him, though, Clare," he murmured under his breath. The night air listened closely. "I shouldn't. We agreed this wasn't anything and it shouldn't be anything, and I tried, but I can't help it. If you could see him, see the way he is with people, with animals, with his work...?" With me? "His fiancé must have been a complete doylum to break his heart. I'd give anything to find someone like that."

The keys jingled around BJ's index as he swung them idly 'round. Their door was at the end of the hall and everything was quiet. Clare was not there with him, of course not, but he stilled at the top of the stairs to feel for her all the same.

"A man like him makes all the others look cheap," he said. The breeze was warm, he could still hear the sirens. Maybe he would stop out here and smoke for a while on the balcony to further clear his head. "I wish you could have met him. He'd have loved you too, you know, and your little girls. He's going to make someone very happy someday."

[rookthegremlin]

A RANT ON DEREALIZATION AND HOW I HALLUCINATED ON ONLY 20 MILLIGRAMS OF THE DEVILS LETTUCE, you've been warned :)

I have this unnerving feeling that everyday I'm passing out of people's perception more and more. That through this process, I'm thus becoming less and less real as well, that maybe I'm just the figment of everyone else's imagination. Like, holy shit, is this what it's like? Derealization? Just this process of becoming less real through lack of perception by others? Until your parents forget you, your friends forget you, the government forgets you, hell even God itself forgets. Everything, even the atoms that swirl around you act as if you aren't even there. And that every decision you make, every act, every word, doesn't even really matter. The other day, I consumed two 10 milligram gummy bears (just the good ol' Mary j) and I had the worst trip of my entire life. hallucinations of people watching me like I was on a TV show and that the food I was eating wasn't even food, but tiny people, screaming for their lives. That even the water I was drinking was some disgusting slurry of something gelatinous and horrible that one might have yanked out of the bathtub drain. In the corner of my eyes were rough sketches of people peering from around my eyelashes. I felt like I wasn't even human. I was so terrified of the dog that I'm babysitting because I was convinced that she was something horrible in a dog-skin suit, pretending, but pleading that we would notice and save her. Or was that what she wanted me to think? And I thought in that moment, that I had lost my mind, that maybe I had finally gone batshit crazy. And just now, there's this strange feeling in my head that doesn't feel right, and it makes me feel like I too am pretending. That I'm some sort of other being parading around in stolen skin, or that maybe I'm in the matrix and this is all a simulation afterall. That I'm not real, just codes and numbers that make up a character; and not even a main character, just an extra. Just background filler that nobody would notice if I were gone. There would be no difference if I was alive or dead, nobody would notice because I'm not even real. So why even try? If I'm not real then...

No.

I'm real because I perceive myself, and even if I'm perceived by only some, it's still better than being perceived by none. I couldn't have made any of this up and I'm sure that nobody could have made me up either, so I must be real...

Right?

[tookishcombeferre]

I find this to be an incredibly compelling theme across stories! It appears EVERYWHERE because it’s felt by EVERYONE!

Like, this theme appears in everything from morality plays to children’s media. Isolation is a powerful thing that makes people do crazy shit.

I’m about to say something so nerdy right now. Strap on seatbelts.

One of the oldest stories in recorded history is The Epic of Gilgamesh. This story is about this horrible king Gilgamesh that totally abuses everybody. He's like bad-bad. So, the gods decide they're going to create this other man to like balance him out called Enkidu. (I swear this has a point. I promise.) Now, Gilgamesh is all civil and stuff. But, Enkidu is all "wild" when he's first created. He lives in the forest with the animals and is generally just sort of like chillin in the forest doin' his thing there. But, he's discovered by this guy who realizes he's human. So, through a series of ... um ... human adventures Enkidu learns how to people. Eventually, once Enkidu is "civilized" he finds out what Gilgamesh is doing and decides "I'M GONNA FIGHT HIM!" And, he does. Even though Gilgamesh wins, it's not an easy fight. And, they end up becoming friends. Gilgamesh never had anyone who could ever actually challenge him before Enkidu. He never had an "equal" - in mind or body. He never had someone to balance him out. As the story progresses, I'll spare you the details, the two of them eventually do something to make the gods angry. Which, eventually, leads to Enkidu's death. It's so sad y'all! Ancient Mesopotamian literature and their interpretation of friendships will really getcha! Like, have tissues ready. /gen But, now, isolation feels different to Gilgamesh. Before, in isolation, he was evil. Now? He's desperate. Without his other half - in many ways the better and more sane half, despite the way Enkidu's story started - Gilgamesh is floundering because he has no idea how to deal with the concept of his own mortality. Eventually, after several stone tablets full of QUESTING!, Gilgamesh realizes that humankind is immortal even if he isn't. And, that has to be enough. He is a part of humanity. He is a part of COMMUNITY. And, that's beautiful. What I'm trying to get at here is, we ALL need community. Because, in isolation, without people to understand us? We go nuts! And, that goes back to one of the earliest pieces of literature human beings ever wrote. Community and shared humanity is at our foundation as PEOPLE! Y'all! People love each other! We just ... forget that? We love each other no matter how "nuts," no matter how "crazy," no matter how "evil." We LOVE each other. Because, Gilgamesh ... man ... that dude was a BAD dude. BAD, BAD dude. But, even he was loved by someone and found his soul. And, that? That is the power of humanity. Or, at least, that is what my studies in literature have lead me to discover. Whenever I'm lost, I look to books and I say "We've lost ourselves many, many times in our journey as human beings. But, at our core? We love to love each other no matter what we've done. And, I think that's a beautiful thing."

So, I have *thoughts* right now. And, I must unleash them. It's not even noon my time, I have had no caffeine, but I spent almost 10 hours talking to my spouse about this as we drove cross country on the way home from Thanksgiving and now you all have to hear it. And by you all, I mean me and the front page of my blog. (Or whomever chooses to read this.) I think the most fascinating thing about Jekyll and Hyde adaptations is that, while many people have chosen to reinterpret Jekyll's motivations and who/what Hyde is, the transferable theme of Jekyll's isolation ALWAYS remains. The loss of community. The loss of relationships. The perpetual lying by omission or half-truths to people he cares about to cover what he did. That is what every adaptation chooses to focus on! And, I think that's SO fascinating! Like, of all the things adaptations could choose to focus on, they choose to focus on Jekyll locking himself away from everyone and trying to hide Hyde away from the world ... NO MATTER HOW SEEMINGLY INNOCENT HYDE IS IN THE ADAPTATION. This blows my mind! I think specifically of Glass Scientists in the case "seeming innocence" ending in repression/isolation despite living around others. This ending in isolating himself in ... the most interesting way possible. If you know; you know. But, like, in the musical, we've released evil on the world for the sake of the greater good of humankind? - still ends in isolation and desperation. Novel? A fun little thought experiment that was funny until it wasn't. - Still, eventually, ends in isolation. Like, what does that say about us as human beings that our consistent focus is on the isolation of Jekyll after he splits himself apart, regardless of the catalyst or motivation? Some of those reasons might feel more heartbreaking or realistic or whatever, but that isolation, and that loneliness, I think, is still super profound. Anyhow, this my pre-caffeinated ramblings. Enjoy.