#someday itll fall all down on me

[mindself]

Need something new in my life besides people dying.....

[blueiight]

back to wiaw…keeping them home fires burning readthru.

hilde’s graduation<333 i feel like a proud dad omg she was just 7 years old yesterday😢😢😢

Martin and Kircheis, neither of whom had any estates to speak of, remained silent, Kircheis with his placid smile, and Martin looking uncomfortably at Hilde. miss martin shaking up the table.. yang’s current situation im still reeling from how sotp ended. was not in the right frame of mind to fully process & still wont be until hes in the mix once more. hilde saying ‘HANK’ is Good with a capital G. like. u dont even know his name pop!.. hilde would be the perfect lawyer fuck this stone age empire. poor kircheis out of his body here 🤣🤣😢

good friends winkwink. yang noooo😢😢u not leeching off the mariendorfs they love u theyre literally the only good family on this side of the galaxy.

“I think we have more respectability put together than either of us have apart.” hes willing to rep reuenthal at grandpa’s funeral AND be maggie’s mutual beard.. one lazy man, roped into so much shit. its funny cuz in sotp it was maggie who was the high life baroness ‘marrying down’ but now with her 'fall' from grace itll be viewed as yang dragging her ‘back up’ into respectable society .. oh how the wheel keeps turning. or wdf this work is titled

Yang nodded solemnly. “The thing about mothers, young sir, is that everyone has one, whether she’s around or not.” stunning wisdom from our friend ‘HANK’

wiaw fred actually seems more like a haggard worn down slightly paranoid emperor than his enigmatic show counterpart. liking it. sad for yang, but dont worry my dear ‘HANK’ , at least one old man loves you (franz giving him the ring was so heartfelt). and having the emperor now dislike u should be an homage to ur waning proletarian spirit anyways

THE DREAM… ohmygod. something about how dreams neurologically work in that the mind goes into strange places but also knowing this is a fictional narrative so this means a lot. the cars running backwards. please visit my father, yang entering the door alone. wow. yeah. family. marriage. possible political problems. somethings going on here.

SIT flashbacks oh when it was all so much easier😢😢😢even if he was being a CUNT there

poppa r.. when is he ever not drunk. wait. grandpa being only 12 years older than the father.. that man said oskar’s mingling with the foreigners and the queers bc hes barely a noble (aka a ‘ bastard ‘ ) oh this family trifling & dubious AF. i love that his whole family situation is so enigmatic & haunts the narrative bc thats how it rly be in these fucked up family situations.

“He looks just like his mother, you know.” When Yang said nothing in response, Reuenthal’s father continued. “She was proud, too. I wanted her to ask me for forgiveness, but she never did, and then she killed herself rather than apologize.”

“What, exactly, were you waiting for her to apologize for?” Yang hated him.

“You know what.”

It was a testament to the brilliance of Reuenthal’s pride, that he would never apologize for existing, despite how much his father wanted him to. Yang loved him for it.

“I hope you realize someday, Herr von Reuenthal, that your wife and son never apologized to you because they had nothing to apologize for.”

“You don’t know anything,” Reuenthal’s father hissed, and Yang remembered, vividly, the same tone, the same voice, spitting at him from across the booth at Joseph’s bar, a lifetime ago. It was the same unbridled malice, when a Reuenthal was confronted with this truth, the one that they didn’t want to face because facing it would hurt too much. Only this time, it wasn’t Reuenthal-Yang’s-friend— it wasn’t Oskar— it was this living ghost.

“I know Oskar,” Yang said. “And that’s enough.”

Everything about this passage is so…my chest hurts. wiaw yang is so so sweet and loving of wiaw reuenthal in a way thats believable. its like how hes always in the mix of some bullshit in the gaidens+ canonverse wise and he doesnt wanna be there but hes there for his own interest in the topic and/or love for the person involved. and omg For Pride!!!! lotgh ep93 namedrop. it is all In the Name Of pride. but that pride is fundamentally rooted in spite which is a trainwreck we all just waiting for it to happen. this is relatable. the ova canon physical resemblance to his mother, the wiaw canon dispositional resemblance to his father in his (vilest) moments… amazing.

CH2 MITTREUEMITT on ISERLOHN together. i never mentioned it b4 but their flagships being named after 2 halves of the same city omg this is even more egregious than canonverse Brunhilde & Tristan somehow. its giving what needs to be gave

Reuenthal tapped his chin. “Stuck is an interesting word for it.”

Mittermeyer raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous talk.”

everytime someone in wiaw says 'dangerous' talk i smile like a hideous creature. wait. wait. theyre at iserlohn. and yang’s promise to braunschweig involved iserlohn. ohmygod and they dont even know💔💔

Seeing Reuenthal regularly did something indescribable and potent to his mind, made him feel like a student again, with all thoughts of home distant and unpleasantly vague, and Reuenthal right there, so physical in front of him.

u make me feel like i am young again… omg💔💔💔💔💔

Reuenthal’s hand tangled in Mittermeyer’s hair, almost pulling on it, and Mittermeyer nipped at Reuenthal’s lips in exchange, causing him to make a soft, needy noise, his other hand digging into Mittermeyer’s uniform.

Mittermeyer pulled him back towards the bedroom, and Reuenthal easily followed. They didn’t bother turning on the light, but light spilled in from the living room, plenty to see by, and Mittermeyer gave one glance at his bedside table, confirming that he had remembered to put away in the bottom drawer the photograph of Eva that usually had a place of honor there. It was as much for his sake as it was for Reuenthal’s.

. the mittreuemitt dynamic i sold my soul for at the cost of everything else (the actual rammifications. da rammys, brah.) id pay 6 billion dollars & comm all the rly lovey dovey scenes as RARE AS THEY ARE it just makes it better when we get it (& hurt more laterz.) im still at the reuenthal knight of kapche-lanka scene. but honestly mittermeyer knowing its some fuckshit impending when reuenthal’s voice is ‘light’ ohmygod i love it pillowtalking reassignments+ their ever present disdain for obes … n the association of home with heterosexual love and guilt! ohmygod..

i am amazed. im not a multi shipper like that bc i feel multi ships tend to have a preferred chara + snub others at best i prefer discrete pairings (having multiple ships but theyre discrete relationships at different stages of a character’s lives) but the writing of these relationships moves me.. like i believe they all love eachother in their own ways and thats what makes it hurt even more.

“You want to drive?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I want to kiss you.”

mitt is the only one of the 479 mafia who learned how to spit game so thats why he has two— not even gone say it.

does wolfgang mittermeyer eat pussy, thread locked after firey debate

YANG😢😢😢that old heffa been workin him to death smh. and omg he rly cant drive.. my boy is useless below da neck frl

“If I was being mistreated at work, wouldn’t you want to know? Even if there was nothing you could do about it but worry?” she asked, cutting to the core of the problem with her hands tight on the wheel. “I love you, Wolf, and I don’t want to be lied to to spare my feelings.”

BABY GRL UON EVEN WANNA KNO THE SHIT YO MAN BEEN UP TO… ohmygod.

Dinner was a pleasant and cheerful affair, but Yang kept yawning, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look almost pitiful, so Mittermeyer’s mother had tucked him up in the guest bedroom immediately after dinner. omg hes so adorable i feel bad for him too FUCK BRAUNSCHWEIG

“Some of them.” He paused, then added, “More of them bring their mistresses.” and you get to work with yours!

The convo w his mom is scaring me .. after sotp we are getting into totally original content not to say nat hasnt been incredibly creative but ygwim here my knowledge of lotgh canon will not carry me thru these next parts like they did b4 and ik canon mitt was the immortal gale wolf but that convo gave so many death flags oh my lawd

DID EVA MISCARRY DURING THE STRESS OF THE FLEGEL SHIT OHMYGOD? My heart legit hurts 😢😢😢😢💔💔💔 WHY IS THIS SO SAD FOR ME???

“I know.” Mittermeyer looked away. “What did they think you were going to do?”

“Oh, I think they thought that you and I had something going on.”

they may have been wrong at the time but ngl i need there to be sum that go down between the two of yall. i have never begged for poly like this before in my 95 years of existence. reuyang still need they top, gurl LIKE u know his real name😢 u mess w the same girl its meant to be.

“No,” Yang said. “A friend of mine— Boris Konev— he made it up as a joke. It just sounds almost like ‘Yang Wen-li’ when you say it fast.” He shook his head. “That was a million years ago, now.”

I FUCKING KNEW IT KONEV UR SUCH A TROLL⚰️⚰️⚰️ Ugh yang hits different bc hes such an honest sort of sentiment i cant describe it hes not just kind hes truly genial& theres just this sense of weariness in wiaw so early here that he doesnt exhibit until the near end of his life in lotgh canon and it makes me so sad.

Yang shook his head. “I have no idea.” The melancholy in his voice was almost painful for Mittermeyer to listen to. He crouched down next to Yang, and handed him back the box with the engagement ring. Yang turned it over in his hands. “I have no idea what he’d think of me now.”

“You don’t think he’d be proud of you?”

Yang rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t even think he’d recognize me.”😢😢😢😢😢😢

chapter 3’s title. Oskar von Reuenthal Was Born Innocent. We gettin into it Na Chile

THAT OLD BITCH DIED WE SMOKING ON THAT PETER PACK…

The thing that made him clench his hands into white knuckled fists was the second part of the message, which said that Reuenthal had inherited everything that there was to inherit.

He didn’t want it. Not the money that was listed there in the message, not the investments that his father had made, not the house, not the land it sat on. He didn’t want any of it, and he had thought— by virtue of his father striking him from the family record almost a decade ago— that he would be free of it. He hadn’t given much thought to what would become of the property if his father failed to assign an heir (though the mental image of it crumbling into dust sometimes flashed through his head, when he remembered it,) and he had taken as much pride as he could in making his way in the world without any hope of an inheritance to fall back on.

As with every other thing his parents had given to him, it was his burden to bear, and he would bear it.

This is so powerful. and evocative. this is also the worst time for him to receive the sort of news about yang& maggie. this is perfect.

He didn’t even know if that was what he truly wanted— he knew he shouldn’t want it— but there was this sensation of pressure behind his eyes, an impulse that said the only way to free himself was to crash into something with great force, full body: a train, his face into a wall, a fist. It didn’t matter what. His body hungered for the pressure, a release valve for whatever thought he couldn’t put a name to.

like… i dont even have words i just love this. he drank instead. but he drank.

im fighting the urge to post every single paragraph of reuenthal in his father’s mansion. but im gnawing at it. just know. and in this. i remember reuenthal is the only living person who calls yang by his first name. and only in select moments. im...

“Come to my place.”

“No.”

“I’d like to see you,” Yang said.

Reuenthal took a long moment to weigh Yang’s tone. If he was offering out of pity, Reuenthal had no interest in seeing him. But if it was a genuine want on Yang’s part…

“Come here, then,” Reuenthal finally said.

“Okay,” Yang said. “I will.”

im horrified at seeing my pathology reflected here but poor yang can barely drive! and mind u its snowing ! ohmygod. OH wait we getting good fucking use of that tag i knew of it from em’s beautiful drawing but the Context makes it so much more meaty.

But Reuenthal didn’t need to keep his mother’s dresses as a reminder of anything. He had better ones. WAIT WHAT. AND WE WILL NEVER GET TO KNOW CUZ YANG IS HERE. AND.

He looked at Yang for a long moment more, the dream frozen. But then Yang stepped forward into the room, crossing the threshold, and the dream fell away, and it was just them once again, Yang coming towards him as he sat on his childhood bed. THE DREAM IS ACTUALLY SHARED AND ITS REUENTHAL’S NIGHTMARE?. WHAT IS IT WITH THESE FUCKING DOORS.

A housewarming party. im sure thisll go well/sarcasm

“Okay, then invite Evangeline too.”

“She won’t come anywhere near me unless Baroness Westpfale is also in attendance.” WHY U SO MEAN TO HER . I KNOW WHY. AND I WILL KILL U WITH ROCKS

Personally, Reuenthal didn’t feel like there was that much tension— Magdalena seemed perfectly willing to give better than she got— but Yang had been tugging at his hair watching their back and forth.

Tears ran down my face from how much i laughed at this. stop ittt ur hurting her (yang seeing two ppl he cares about go blow for blow). this is why i love wiaw cuz ppl love to force cringe ~sappho~ ~mulm~ soldiarity bullshit but maggie being brash and reuenthal being a sexist is so essential. im sure theyll get along even worse (/positively said. i love terrible things.) when he gets the tea abt maggie n yang </3. how can i speedrun to the elfriede reuenthal floor shit that i heard about

blue flowers in a gold and black beer mug. like . get it the fuck together girl.

MITTERMEYER. I SEE WHY THEY CALL YO ASS THE GALE WOLF. CUZ U MOVE FAST. this is the mittermeyer i love. i love how yang is so easy w/ reuenthal like easy kisses fade to black scenes do u want me to come by? in the snow? & i cant drive? while mittermeyer just jumps him hands on his hips while his ole lady upstairs. teeth clacking in the kiss. insane. insane. the 479 trio gets down hanny

reuenthal @ eva

“Oh, I don’t think that Hank has either the ability or the desire to dictate what I do.”

“Then you would make a poor wife,” Reuenthal said flatly. “And I would not wish you on him.”

There was a moment of awkward silence around the table, then Magdalena laughed, very loudly. “Oh, gods, Oskar, you are hilarious. I hope you come to our wedding and stand up and loudly object when they ask if anyone has a problem with us.”

THE WAY MAGGIE IS THE ONE WHO LAUNCHES THE WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT IN SUUUUUCH A WAY. OMG.

this is the one of the only fanfic to ever exist. “Being married to Mittermeyer might be nice.” like. im cackling. this is one of the worst days in his life

OH. OH AND NOW. WE ALMOST SUCKIN DICK IN WINECELLARS NOW. WOW.

“I’ll let you know.” He would not let her know.

If Magdalena wanted the tour, he would give her the tour.

FUNNIEST thing ever. the trauma congaline is even funnier. ohmygod. pop dont ever get help💜💯DID YOU WANT ANY LEFTOVERS. THERES PLENTY OF CAKE. IM IN TEARS. hes so demented

Yang muttered. He finished his drink in what looked like one gulp, then leaned further on Reuenthal until his head settled, catlike, in Reuenthal’s lap. “I still do feel bad, though.” Yang’s eyes were closed, and Reuenthal stroked his hair. Magdalena watched, sipping her own drink, and Reuenthal silently dared her to say anything.

theyre so cute ohmygod. yang is so cute.. little kitty . im going to cut my fingers off and eat them. this is my most disorganized wiaw read (as if any of this shit was ever put together) im so gone rn. magdalena faking like shed throw the glass.

“I want to try this on,” she said, holding up Yang’s uniform, which he hadn’t noticed her carrying out of the bedroom in the dark.

ANOTHER USE OF THAT ILLUSTRIOUS TAG OMG she literally says in gaiden she would love to wear a uniform. oh my god this story is perfect

“Come on,” Magdalena said. “Call me sir. Just once.”

“Yes, sir,” Reuenthal said. It alarmed him how easy it was to indulge her.

Guys is this.

is this what.

“I don’t think this even belongs to him. I think you’re trying to trick me, for some joke.” He pulled the ring off his finger. He held it up to the light, then moved to toss it into the fire. She let out a yelp of surprise and grabbed his hand before he could let go of it, gripping tight with wide eyes and fingernails that dug into his skin. It was the first genuine reaction he thought he had ever gotten out of her, and he was smugly satisfied by it.

U wont be able to come back down 3-1 …

This simulacrum was close enough to be disturbing and fascinating, in a way that he couldn’t refuse outright.

OH WE SHOLL IS GOING THERE OHMYGOD. maggie wearing hank’s clothes in this simulacrum. her desire to take on these roles. ‘Hank’. he never got a chance to kiss ‘Hank’. theres this thing u did here w how reuenthal randomly has these moments of being in his head in the ova& getting caught up in his own illusions / head (“but im not a poet im just a vulgar warrior!” girl u was just waxing poetics about history wanting its blood n spacing out at the commander’s chair thinking about the police taking pics of ur mom’s death.) at times that. in wiaw its handled in such a tantalizing way is just. so so. wow. some ppl may find it tangential or slightly ooc but ur working magic out of scraps here n ppl dont see it. ppl dont see it. and it hurts my soul

And the morning after. i feel like something was fucked here thatll never go back the same. this and sotp is like. a complete fuckening. if thats even a word mane. omg. i done died

[mysticotta]

So, word of warning, under the read more is going to be a very heavy vent post. I kinda just need to scream into the void, and I need to get some things off my chest before it crushes me. I 100% understand if no one reads this. I don't expect you to. Take care of yourselves

I can't fucking live my life like this anymore. There's so much expectation and pressure, and I just feel like I'm going to let everyone down because I'm too weak, too stupid, and I'm not good enough.

I play softtball. I don't want to. My mother is forcing me to give it one more season, despite it absolutely destroying me mentally last season. I'm also part of the school pep band, and student council, and I work as a lifeguard, and I'm going to be in some very high level classes this year, along with me being a stage manager for my school's theater program. Softball is the highest commitment out of any of those

I strongly suspect I have ADHD. I'm planning to ask for a diagnosis, but I don't have a doctor's appointment till September. That's too late to do anything to convinve my mom to let me quit.

Right now, I only have softball, pep band, lifeguarding, and student council affecting me. I already feel like I'm about to snap from the pressure to be this and be that.

I have serious people-pleasing issues. I feel like I can't disappoint, I always have to be better than they expect. I also suck at softball, so every failed catch, every strike on me, feels like a knife to the heart. I love theater, I love band, and I think I could grow to love student leadership, but softball is horrible. The team is good, but everyone plays so much better than I do, I feel so fucking ashamed and shitty every time I mess up, every time I fail. And its such a fucking commitment as well. I miss the entirety of the second day of school with a tournament. I'm not going to able to balance everything, something will break, and I have a feeling itll be my academics.

i'm smart. I have a 4.0 GPA, I'm good at school, but softball takes so much energy, I don't have any left to succeed. My grades shot up as soon as softball season finished last year. My mom's also super disappointed whenever any of my grades slip below an A.

RIght now? I have the ability to balance it all,. My emotional and mental stability from the summer is enough to carry me through for a bit. But someday, probably soon, I won't be able to balanmce it all. And I know myself. Committing suicide will look more and more tempting with each lost game, each failed test. Because I don't know who I am if I'm not excelling, if people aren't proud of me. This fall, I will most likley break. I don't want to. I love the friends I have, I love everything I do that's not softball. But softball also takes up so much time and energy, I don't have any time to do anything else. To be anyone else.

I'm being pulled in so many fucking directions. I can't do this for much longer. But I have to. ANd I don't have anyone I can talk to about this

[lovedistrict]

I became mutuals with someone through Instagram. During lockdown I realised we had a mutual interest and through that, we became fast friends. We live in different timezones and I used to stay up till 5am talking to her and smile every time I saw her name. She quickly became my closest person. She comes from a difficult household, and a lot of things happening in her life sucks- I wanted to help her escape from that, so that we could have a future together, and I expressed this to her, asking her if she'd want to marry me someday- which she enthusiastically agreed to (no ring, just plans to spend out lives together).

Somewhere along the line, she met and befriended my brother- one of the most important people in my life- and they became quite good friends too.

They ended up falling out, due to fundamental differences, on her part, she was unsure what went wrong, but my brother was glad to no longer be in contact. I was absolutely devastated, though the incident made me see I have issues with trying to fix things for everyone (I tried to mediate before realising there was nothing I could do)

We still loved each other and continued our relationship, although I felt I could no longer talk about important aspects of my life in case I made her sad, we were happy.

Last September, I went to college, and during this time, I found the feelings I had for her starting to change- for example, feeling put down by teasing insults rather than playing along.

How I feel right now is that I'm no longer sure I want a future with her. I worry that I'd be making a mistake, because love takes time amd work, even when it's hard, right? But I've grown in the past year and I no longer think I'm ready to commit to any kind of relationship, at least without working on myself a Lot. Even on a fundamental level, I'm not sure how much our personalities align anymore.

How do I know if breaking up with her is the right thing? If I broke up with her, would I regret it or would I be resigning myself to what would be a miserable life? I don't want to hurt her or make her think she's the problem but I don't think I'm being fair on myself or her? Should we still try and be friends after? How do I tell the people in my life? I know by not telling her, I'm already hurting her, but also after I built up so much when I was really in love with her, I don't want to let her down or make her think she's the problem. How wrong would it be to break up over text? I'm not sure if even have the courage to tell her over call and it's our main form of communication anyway?

Thank you for your time, I'm feeling really stuck on this.

Ok. So first of all. I think you cannot not do something your heart tells you to because it’d maybe hurt someone. You have to always be true to yourself, not only to others. There’s no way of knowing for sure how your life will be, if you’ll ever meet someone like her, or not. Probably yes, you have your whole life ahead of you and there are many many people in the world.

Chances are you’ll hurt her, but hey, that’s life. People change. Feelings change. It’s better to be honest than to pretend to feel something you don’t. Yes, you can stay friends but only if that wouldn’t make things harder for one of you when moving on.

Itll be better not to end this over text of course. I know it’s hard, but this person has meant so much to you to have this breakup be over text.

[sharuruwrites]

Smile

Tags: Like the last one, itll be a surpise ^u^.

Btw, the Itadori fanfics were all requested by my irl friend. If I do conflict emotional damage, I’m sorry.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Jujutsu Kaisen as it’s owned by the one-eyed cyclops of a cat, Gege Akutami.

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

The day of execution had come. The students have gone to their missions. As for the staff, they chose to observe from afar. In case something went wrong. A lone individual enters the isolation room.

  The gods must really hate you for whatever they did in their past life.  

Itadori could hear their footsteps. Every step they took becomes heavier as they approach him. The individual enters the room full of talismans and few lit candles. Their sight is greeted by the vessel's body, and tired is the best word to describe his appearance. His body is covered in paper talismans, and to make sure the king of curse doesn't come out, blessed chains wrap around his body.

  At this moment, they realized how cruel fate can be...

"I thought Gojo-sensei will kill me," Yuji looks up weakly at the newly arrived person. "But it's you, isn't it (Y/N)?"

Their teacher was supposed to be his executor. But the higher-ups didn't trust him enough that he'll kill the student. Unfortunately, you became one. Why? Because you can seal a person's curse energy for a limited amount of time. A perfect weapon against him.

  To kill the love you found...

A nod is all you can give him, scared that your voice will fail you. You fear the resolve will disappear. The blade in your hand feels heavier than before. Was it because of the guilt you're going to bear after his execution? Was it the fear of people will see you differently?

You knew to yourself that you won't be the only one who lost someone. Your classmates, Kugisaki and Fushiguro, will lose a close friend. Your upperclassmen Okkutsu, Panda, Inumaki, and Maki, will lose a junior they look after. Nanami and Gojo will lose a precious student. Todou will lose a brother, something he's proud of despite knowing him for a short time.

As for you? You lose a love that you can never find again. You only knew Itadori for a whole year, and somehow, he manages to find a way to crawl into your heart. After his death, the warmth you discover in him will someday cool down and be forgotten as time goes on.

In the early parts of your relationship with him, you were hesitant to love him and return his affections. You knew he will die. There's also fear of the possibility that you or he will curse each other's name in death. Is this why love is the deadliest curse of them all?

"Do you have any regrets, Itadori?"

"If you smile for me," He smiles weakly at you. "I think there won't be."

Your eyes widen in surprise. This boy, even near to his death, is too fucking selfless. You knew what he meant when he said those words.

  "If not for you, do it for me then. Be happy, (Y/N)."  

You grabbed the handle of your katana to pull it out from its sheathe. You point the blade at his neck before you pull it away from  him.

"Thank you...Yuuji." You were on the verge of crying. But you gave him the biggest smile you can muster. How can you smile so brightly at his death? Easy, you're giving his one-way ticket to being free from his burdens.

No sound was made when a swing of your blade meets his neck. Along with the sheathe, you left your cursed tool in the isolation room and never looked back.

On the way to the principal's office, you feel your mind is numb, and your body is on autopilot. However, you bump onto your blindfolded giant of a teacher in the hallway.

Before he could say anything, you grabbed tightly on his uniform and screamed loudly in pain and frustration. You begin to sob uncontrollably as your knees buckle from the sadness you can't handle. If it weren't for your teacher, your knees give in as you fall on the wooden floor.

At this point, you don't care who can hear your cries. You don't care if your throat is hurting from the screaming and sobbing. If someone gives you an easier way to deal with this, you're not going to take it.

  I hope fate is kind to you in your next life, Yuji...  

  If they're not, they better make sure they won't let me born in the life you existed in...

  One slip of a mistake...they'll see worse than hell...

[jockedguy]

I wasnt always a Grunt. I never imagined I would be, I dont know how you can ever see somethin like that coming. I wish I had seen it earlier, because of how happy I am now.

All I have tosay is that I am in a crew, I have a Boss and I have a Chief. They give me orders and I do them because thats what Grunts do. Grunts are Crew Property.

Im what most people would call a Redneck. Even though I live in the city, my Boss and my Chief want me to be a sertain way. Its not good for me to make choices, because I always fuck it up. Its way easier to do what Im told.

Its been a slow process but in the last few months Its been goin faster. Now I wear a lot more leather and we branewash every night, wich is important to me because branewashin is good for me. Theres times when I kinda fall back into who I used to be, because I lived it for so long, but Chief and Boss always remind me that aint who I am anymore. People change, its not so wierd that Im who I am now. Its kinda always who I’ve been anyway underneath. Bossn Chief just help bring it out.

I never relax as good as when Im branewashin. I love hearin the leather creakin n shit when Boss puts me in the chanes and the coller. I love gettin a lil tripped out when the spirals come on the big screan. And all the pics, some of em even look like me. Or I look like them or somethin. Ether way, Its good for me.

Ive always liked dogs, but Im not sure why. Maybe cuz I just never liked cats, cuz they were kinda stupid and smelled bad. A good dog is a good frend, he always hangs out with you and licks your face and rolls around and is a good time. Thats what Im kinda like to my Boss n Chief as a Grunt, cuz Grunts is crew property. Im loyal as fuck and Ill fuck anyone up who trys to fuck with Boss or Chief. Like a dog too. I got a big ass wolf tatted on my arm an hes howlin, it looks badass. I got it cuz Boss told me to get it. Boss knows best.

Someday Boss tells me we wont be in the city anymore, itll be on big land probably in the South and ill work the land. Boss sez its okay that Im more like his employee. He marryed me because its the best way to own me. Theres even a contract that makes me like legaly owned by Boss n Chief. I signed it but I dont remember much about it cuz the words were really fuckin big and I got bored plus Chief said just sign it Grunt so i signed it Grunt and he wacked me on the head and said now he had to make a new one becuz I had to sign my REAL name but i forgot i had one.

Oh yea its Critter, I said when I remembered.

Boss and Chief laughed alot, then Boss took out my wallet from my pants and showed me my drivers ID and it said TUCKER JOHN PRICE.

So thats the name Im suposed to sign on the thing, Chief sez, and I think I get it, but now we gotta wait til he gets a new contract made up.

This is why I gotta dont think for myself, because like Boss n Chief say, its bad for me. I dont think, Boss n Chief think for me.

Slowly the way I think is changeing too. Every once in awhile Ill get a good brite flash of the way Im should be thinkin, slow n simple. Sometimes Ill realize that I wasnt even thinkin at all for a long time, jus kinda zonin out. Sometimes I wake up and Im all in leather and Im watchin the pics go by, all the spirals n shit. Sometimes Ieven think I see myself in those pics, but its goes by so fast that I cant tell.

Sometimes I dream Im in the yard, Im in the future, I feel the sun beatin down on my back and I see I got a shovel in my hand, Im doin some yardwork. I know my trailer aint too far away, and I know I got a shit ton of Coors Lite in the mini frige out there. Theres a piece of wood with the words CRITTERS PLACE painted on it that I did, hangin over the door. The Big House is behind me, and the Branewashin Room is downstairs, with the big screans and the chair with all the yellow straps and chanes. I can still taste the powedery pill that Boss gave me to eat before I sat down in it and can still feel the leather hood that he put over my face on my face now.

Soon we are goin to the South to see Chief. Chief sees me evry day tho, becauze they put a camera in my room. Crew Property gets wached by the higherups. I gotta do good cuz they allways wachin. Chief sez that when I get there Im gonna get more ink. Boss been sayin that he wants me to get a noes ring. That Im a Tattooed Low Life Leather Lovin Freak Dirty Fuckin Redneck, and I should act like it more, act like it better. He sez that if I dont shape up, Im gonna be wearin that muzzle alot more.

Sumtimes it feels a lil wierd, but I gotta remember that im a Grunt, im Crew Property. Even if I feel like maybe once bfore I was Smart or sumthin, even then I wasnt as Smart as Boss n Chief. Definly not now. Im such a good grunt that I even feel like I need to be punnished allot becuz of how often I let myself think im Smart like Boss n Chief. Cant see that on the camra so I gotta say it out loud.

Chief sez my believes will change eventualy. He sez Ive come so far. Boss sez Im a new person. I just know im Grunt, im Crew Property. I dont make choses cuz it hurts my brane. Thats why I need branewashin so that my brane can stop hurtin cuz I gotta think durin the day. I beleve what Chief sez and what Boss sez becuz they havent ben rong yet. Im sure Ill change evn more to what they want becuz Im a Grunt and Im Crew Property, and soon itll be on a contract as soon as I dont fuck it up on the paper.

[besidemethewholedamntime]

first sunsets

Written for the @quakeriderwritersguild Valentine’s Day Challenge who prompted me ‘Fitzsimmons and first kiss at the Perthshire Cottage.’ This was so fun and it’s literally just a soft moment. I hope you enjoy! 

{Read on Ao3}

Or read Below!

The sky is exactly the colour it would be in a children’s painting.

It’s the first thing she thinks whilst they get out of the moving van and begin unloading boxes. It’s exactly the colour of the paint she used as a child. So bright. So blue. So utterly full of possibilities.

“What you looking at?” Fitz asks, standing next to her with the ‘Office’ box in his hands. He peers upwards. “Something wrong with the house?”

“Oh, no,” Jemma smiles, shaking her head. “Just looking at the sky, is all. Very blue.”

“Very sunny,” Fitz remarks. “I wouldn’t get used to the sun if I were you. It’ll just lead to disappointment.”

“You do know that England is hardly Spain, right?”

“Look at the kind of Summer you guys get and get back to me on that!” Indignation suits him; his cheeks flushed with summer and righteousness makes him seem more handsome. However, he sidles over to her, nudges her gently. “Is kind of pretty, though.”

It’s ridiculously perfect and pretty, just the kind of moving day that one could hope for. “Gorgeous.”

He just smiles at her and shakes his head, as though he can’t quite believe it. Well, neither can she. They’re finally here. Outside of their new home in Perth, jobs as consultants and well-wishes from all of their friends with them. For the first time in such a long time, things actually feel alright.

She moves boxes out of the van, piling them by room on the front gravel. The moving van will need to be returned soon, and so they move quickly but still methodical. The sun begins to set but the day is still warm and it’s only when the last box is out, and her new house stands before her in the waning light does she realise how much it looks like home.

The box she carries goes down on the ground and, hands at her hips in a very Fitz-esque pose. Deep breath in then out. The country air smells unlike anything she’s ever smelled before. Well… that’s not entirely true. It smells like it did when she was a child, when she knew that, somehow, someday, she would move right back here after she had made a brilliant life for herself.

Looking over at Fitz, who carries a box labelled ‘Academy/PhD things’ from the bedroom pile to the office pile, she knows that her seven year old self would be very proud of her right now. And she knows that her selves from the bottom of the ocean, from the blue planet with no sun, from the framework, all know that it was worth it, now. She has done it for them. Given them the future that, finally, she knows is deserved.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Fitz moves to stand beside her, mimicking her pose. “Feels like we’re in a picture or something.”

Jemma looks at him looking up at the house, then looks at the seemingly endless piles of boxes all around them. Quite a picture they make.

“This is it,” she says, feeling suddenly sentimental. “This is home.”

“Aw, Jemma.” She feels him looking over, that half smile on his lips. “Home’s always been where we’ve been together.”

And just how does he do that? How does it spill so naturally from him? It would be rather infuriating if she didn’t love it so much. If she didn’t love him so much.

“Oh, I know.” Meeting his eyes, she matches his smile. “It’s just, well it’s just lovely to have a feeling of being settled, isn’t it? Something that’s ours and only ours, for once.”

Of course many things have been theirs over the years. So many moments that, stacked end on end, would reach into the infinite. Glances and touches and kisses that are theirs and only theirs and can only ever belong to them.

But she likes the idea of something tangible. Something to wake up in in the morning and go to sleep in at night. Somewhere to hold each other. Somewhere to, maybe, bring up their own family. It’s this permanence, this thing that cannot be swayed or altered or erased completely, that she needs.

His arm comes around her and she allows her head to fall into his shoulder. Once upon a time she only dreamed of this. “I know what you mean.”

Of course, he does. He’s Fitz. For better or worse, he’s always understood her more than she’s ever understood herself.

Her head goes up and his comes down and they meet in the middle the way that’s become normal of late. Kissing Fitz is not like it used to be. It used to be urgent. It used to be like it had to be right in that moment otherwise it may never happen again. She used to kiss him and taste desperation, and she thought he tasted it too.

It’s not like that anymore and thank God. Now she can take her time. Now it’s slow and soft and sweet because there’s more time. Now she kisses him and tastes love and knows that’s all he can taste, too.

They’ve come so far. Here, in this future, they have finally arrived.

They break apart. Forehead and against forehead. His hand on her cheek and hers around the back of his neck. Love love love all around.

“Well, Jemma,” he whispers, smiling in a way that makes her feel weak at the knees. “Welcome home.”

[antihero-writings]

The Things We Say Aloud—Pandora Hearts Fic for Phmonth18 Rainsworth Trio Week—Prompt 2: Family (Full Fic)

Fic Title: The Things We Say Aloud

Fic Synopsis: The Rainsworth Trio has a tradition of midnight snowball fights. But what if this is Break’s last?

Notes: This is another fic I wrote last Christmas (for the prompt “Rain”), but I think will work well for Phmonth18. I think it works best for the Rainsworth Trio Prompt 2: Family. You don’t have to have read the previous Christmas fic to understand it, but they are supposed to take place in the same year, and there are a few connections/references between them. (The other one is called “In Plain Sight” and you can read it on this blog, and/or at I_prefer_the_term_antihero ‘s Ao3!)

Out of all the PH fics I’ve written so far, this is honestly probably my favorite. I would deeply appreciate it if you commented to let me know you enjoyed it!

I feel like the Rainsworth Trio–especially Sharon and Break–don’t really talk about Break’s death, even though they know it’s coming. I thought it would be interesting to explore how such a conversation would go, and almost made myself cry writing it!

Also, point of interest, a song that I think works really well for the section of this fic where Break is pondering if it will be his last Christmas is “Into the Open Air” from the Brave soundtrack.

P.S. This is a repost of an old fic!

Fic:

Rain pounded its tune on the roof. It was the kind of rain that swarms the air, making it misty, grey, and cold with the buzzing of a thousand tiny drops.

It wasn’t that he disliked the rain. There will always be something about the rain that’s soothing to people dealing with sorrow. But rain like this; that pounds, and pounds, and doesn’t dissipate, sometimes serves to extend the mistiness inside too. Though it could be a rest, a relief, people like him always pray for the sun to come back. For sunny days and summer light were something people like him, with red eyes, and a past full of sin, knew they didn’t deserve, but couldn’t help seeking all the same.

Xerxes Break walked through the hallway of the Rainsworth manor. He wore his turquoise and gold outfit, half of his white hair falling across his shoulder, the other, shorter side, messily added to the covering the bandages provided—bandages over the place where his left eye should have been, though it rarely bled anymore.

As he passed by one of the rooms, he saw Sharon. She looked so small, but so regal, sitting on the windowsill, with her back to the glass, now frosted with condensation. Her chestnut hair was pulled back with a ribbon, and she was wearing her little pink dress. The little girl was pouting, staring at the ground, her arms folded over her chest in the characteristic expression children wear when they don’t get their way.

He paused, resting his hand on the doorframe.

She lifted her head.

When she met his eyes, he remembered very quickly that was not in his skill set to comfort little girls.

When he glanced back, she was giving him a look that said Well? Aren’t you going to come comfort me?

He knew better than to disobey such a look. He took a deep breath and walked in, hopping up on the windowsill next to her.

Like the rain, it wasn’t that he disliked kids, he just didn’t know how to deal with them. When they cried and threw tantrums…in short, he didn’t know how to deal with emotion (well, strong ones anyways). He couldn’t help hoping that kids like her could stay happy, and innocent forever. Like he had hoped for his young mistress from another time, and seen it go so very wrong, then later heard, through his own interference, that he had made it go far worse. But children would have to get hurt, they would have to grow up, some day. And in turn, they would become the kinds of creatures who hurt, and caused pain, who even killed, and made excuses for it…creatures like himself.

Luckily, he found that Sharon was a much happier, much kinder, much stronger child than most.

When she didn’t speak—(he didn’t dare ask, for fear of making it worse)—he turned to look outside the window.

“Xerx-niisan,” she began at last, “Why is the sky crying?”

He turned back to her, raising an eyebrow. “Huh?”

They weren’t siblings; they weren’t even remotely related. But for some reason, the name fixed itself in her mouth, and nothing he did or said could change that.

She could be a little tyrant sometimes.

At his misunderstanding, she continued to pout, averting her eyes. Then she jerked back to look at him, (he flinched a little), and said in a high pitched voice, “It’s almost Christmas! Why is it raining? It should be snowing!”

“Oh,” he relaxed a little, contemplating his response, “Well…it’s not going to stop raining just because you want it to. Sometimes,” he gave a sardonic smile that was more painful than the frown that seemed fixed on his face, looking away into the rain, as if he would find answers reading the drops, “things…people…that should be happy, just can’t be. And no matter how much you want something…”

He trailed off, and when he turned back, he saw tears welling in her eyes.

Nice going, Xerxes, you barely have to open your mouth to make a little girl cry.

There they were, brimming to the surface: all those emotions he didn’t know what to do with. He could only sit there, waiting for her own brand of rain to start, wanting more than anything to escape, to not have to figure out the right words to fix her.

It was the crying he hated the most. Maybe it was because it reminded him too much of a certain day, long ago, of a certain girl…but the snow did fall that day…

Still, he wasn’t going to tell her that if she just wished hard enough, if she believed in hope, the-general-goodness-of-the-world-and-its-inhabitants, and maybe a little bit of magic, that the snow would fall, that she could change things. Wishes were dangerous things, and he didn’t suggest anyone make them. You never know who, or what, might be listening.

Fortunately, before the tears reached her cheeks, Sharon’s mother, Shelly Rainsworth, appeared at the doorway. She looked almost exactly like an older version of her daughter, the same chestnut hair, the same smile that shined with a light of its own.

Upon seeing the tearful look on her daughter’s face, she marched into the room, put her hands on her hips, and turned to Break.

“Xerxes,” she said his name like he really was Sharon’s brother, “what did you say to her?”

“Why do you assume it was my fault, Shelly-sama?” he muttered, sounding like the child she was calling out.

“Let’s just say you have a habit of stepping on people’s feelings.”

He sighed. “I was only telling her that it won’t start snowing simply because she wants it to.”

“It’s almost Christmas, mother!” Sharon said like she was pleading her case, the tears reappearing in her eyes.

Shelly smiled, shaking her head.

“What am I going to do with you two?” she crouched down in front of Sharon, and paused, contemplating her own question for a moment. “Tell you what, sweetie; I can’t promise it’ll start snowing because you want it to, but I can promise this:” she pushed her daughter’s tears away, “The moment it starts snowing—or, I suppose,” she interrupted herself, “the moment there’s enough snow on the ground, but no later!—we’ll go outside, and have a snowball fight. How does that sound?”

“Really?” Sharon raised her head, the sadness lifting a little.

“Even if I’m busy, or it starts snowing in the middle of the night,” Shelly elaborated, grinning, “No, especially, if it’s in the middle of the night,” she placed a finger on Sharon’s nose, at which the little girl giggled, “I’ll wake you up—or you me—then, while everyone else is asleep, we’ll run around the house in just our pajamas and coats, we’ll wake Xerxes—”

“What?!” Break blurted out.

“Yes, we’ll wake Xerxes,” she repeated smirking, “drag him outside—”

“Do I get a say in this?!”

“Nope,” she grinned mischievously, “Don’t think I’m letting you get out of this one.”

“Tch.” He looked away.

She walked calmly to the couch, picked up one of the pillows, as if she was going to fluff it, brought it over to them, and smacked him with it.

He growled, his red eye starting to blaze, like some caged beast.

She threw the pillow back onto the couch, sighing, saying seriously, “I don’t want you sitting here on this windowsill forever…I know, somewhere inside you, there’s someone…” she pondered it, then smiled, saying simply, “Someone who’s not afraid. You’re stronger than you think. Deep down, I think, these sorts of things that seem childish, like snowball fights, and tea-parties,” she smirked, “fun things, you actually enjoy.”

He looked away, as if knowing he could only disappoint her.

She added softly, placing a finger on his chin, making him look at her,

“We’ll see that smile someday, Xerxes Break.”

He stared at her as she took her fingers away, then he blinked, averting his eyes again. murmuring something about, “Really, Shelly-sama…I’d just ruin—”

“Sharon,” Shelly interrupted his mutterings, turning to her daughter, “Do you think Xerxes should sit here sulking, day in and day out, or do you think he should join our snowball fight?”

“Xerx-niisan should come with us!” she didn’t even take a breath before she answered.

He stared into the little girl’s eyes, so full of hope, no question, no hesitation, just…kindness, endless kindness.

Shelly smiled at her daughter, which turned into devious smirk when she looked at him.

“Checkmate.”

He bit his lip before jumping back down to the ground, muttering incoherently his displeasure, knowing once they were set, he couldn’t change their minds.

They could be tyrants sometimes.

Most people wouldn’t have gone near him, much less want him to be a part of something…well, fun. He knew what people said about him. It didn’t matter, it had been a long time since he had cared what other people thought, plus, he more than welcomed the lack of company. But, the thing is, he knew they were right; he was creepy, and dark, and very, very dangerous. So, he too, often wondered why they had taken him in, why they treated him like something worth saving, worth dragging out of bed for snowball fights, and tea-parties, rather than being sure, like rest of the world was—like he was—that he would just darken everything with any amount of light in it.

That’s what Children of Misfortune were for, right?

A little girl, who should have been more scared of him than anyone, who should’ve wanted him as far away from her and her snowball fights than anyone, could not only go near him, but fail to hesitate as she bounded up to this dark-and-dangerous man, looked into that blood-red eye, and asked him why the sky was crying, gave him flowers, and called him “brother.”

And that was worth more to him than he would ever dare admit aloud.

*****

It was from nightmares about knights, and blood, little girls, dolls, and names that he never mentioned, that Xerxes Break awoke from.

Breath and heartbeat weighed heavily on his chest. Once the memories faded enough for him to remember that, though it may have been real, it was not now, he gritted his teeth together, slamming his fist into the wall behind him. He didn’t care how much pain was pulsating through his hand.

If only it would take his mind off the throbbing in his empty eye socket.

If he had been a weaker man, perhaps he would have screamed, even cried, perhaps he would have whispered something pitifully to the sheets about not wanting to remember again, not wanting nightmares like this one to show their faces in his head. But he had already made a wish, and these nightmares were its descendants. He didn’t have the authority to dream anymore.

All he had was the anger and regret surging through his body, and nowhere for it to go, except make his past a weapon that shattered him just as much as it did his enemies, into glass shards, and cold bones, and bloodstained roles.

Still, there was some part of him that hoped after so many years they would have stopped haunting him. And sure, maybe it wasn’t every night, but they did come. Perhaps that’s why they call them ghosts; There were too many horrors to be reminded of, too many sins to feel guilty for, too little he could do to fix it, and the nightmares were all too eager for the task. One lifetime was not enough for them to let him forget.

They say ‘there’s no rest for the wicked’, and his mind was often cruel enough to remind him.

When he raised his gaze, he saw that the curtain was open just slightly, and something in the sliver of window flickered.

The Mad Hatter sighed, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

It was awfully cold.

He stepped up to the window, gently pulling back the curtain, just enough so he could see.

He drew in a breath softly, his eye widening at the view:

It was snowing.

There was enough moonlight to see flakes falling upon the grounds—which were cloaked in white by now.

Like that time years ago, for the whole month, the only thing that fell from the clouds was rain, and finally, the sky decided that Christmas Eve was no time to be laying in bed, sleeping, or else dreaming about past follies.

“Well, Shelly-sama, what do you think?” he spoke softly to the merciful sky, “One last snowball fight?” he paused a moment, turning, leaning against the window, as if waiting for an answer to be whispered in his ear.

He stepped over to his wardrobe, throwing a coat over his pajamas, taking up some winter gloves, putting on socks and boots, and, as always, placing Emily on his shoulder (she wouldn’t want to miss this).

Lighting the candelabra on his nightstand, he ventured into the hallway, making his way toward Sharon’s bedroom.

Opening the door as quietly as he could, he walked in, setting the light on her nightstand.

Sharon was sleeping soundly on her curtained bed, her hair splayed all over the sheets, wrinkled in the night’s sleep, and she hugged her pillow.

He resisted the urge to laugh at her un-proper appearance.

Break sat on the side of her bed, by her head, saying quietly,

“Ojousama.”

She stirred in her sleep, muttering something indecipherable.

He gently ran his hand through her hair, saying louder, “Sharon.”

She blinked open fuchsia eyes to see her servant.

“Break,” she muttered his name softly.

Slowly, she sat up, yawning, looking around.

“Break, what’re you…?” she began, fatigue weighing down her words, then shook it away by shaking her head, “What are you doing in my room?! In the middle of the night! How dare you wake me up!”

He knew what was coming next: she grabbed one of the pillows, and he dodged it before she hit him with it. “Do you think you can just come in here as you please?!”

“Really, Ojousama,” he laughed, standing back up, “You think I’d risk injury without good reason?”

She folded her arms over her chest, pouting. He walked over to the window, throwing open the curtain, standing beside it.

“This better not be one of your pranks, Break,” she muttered, walking over to the window.

“Relax. When have I ever been that cruel?”

She glared at him, as if to say I-could-name-a-few-times, then turned to the window, surveying the landscape outside.

Her aggravated expression broke for widened eyes and a smile.

“Break!” she exclaimed, all grievance forgotten, grabbing his hands and spinning him around, “It’s snowing!!” she let go of him, and jumped up on the bed, repeating, “It’s snowing!! It’s snowing!!”

He smirked, folding his arms over his chest; No matter how old she really was, she still looked like that little kid to him.

“What do you say?” he helped her down from the bed, “One last snowball fight?”

“What are you talking about ‘one last’?” she grabbed the pillow and managed to catch him off guard this time. “You better not be talking about that again!”

She didn’t wait for him to respond as she dropped the pillow and ran over to her wardrobe, found a little coat to throw over her nightshirt, boots, and gloves, then handed him a ribbon to tie her hair back.

“Ready?” he tapped her on the shoulder when he had finished tying her hair.

She nodded, beaming.

They weren’t too far from Reim’s room when Break asked her to hold the candelabra, and stepped down the stairs to the front door.

“Where are you going?” she asked, “Reim’s room is this way.”

“This will only take a moment,” he grinned.

She put her hand on her hip, scowling at him as he ran out the front door. Quickly he returned, with the first snowball in his gloved hand.

“Break! Just what are you intending to do with that?!”

“You’ll see!” said Emily.

Sharon sighed, placing her head in her hand.

Reim stayed at the Rainsworth’s often enough that he had his own room (albeit, not a very fancy one). They quietly entered it to see the servant laying on a bed, much neater than either of theirs, facing away from them. His glasses, and some extra paperwork he just couldn’t leave at work, lay dormant on his nightstand.

Break tiptoed up to his friend, gently pulled back the collar of his shirt, and stuffed a snowball down the back of his shirt.

It was a moment before it took effect, but when it did, Reim skyrocketed out of bed, dancing around, until the snow fell onto the floor.

Break could barely contain his laughter.

He rested his hands on his knees panting. When he regained his bearings enough to figure out what had just happened, and saw Break laughing, he shouted,

“XERXES, YOU BASTARD!!”

Reim lunged at Break, at which the older man only needed to step out of the way, to make Reim trip onto the floor.

“Yes, a tired Reim-san, without his glasses, is definitely a match for me,” he remarked, leaning over him,

“A normal Reim-san isn’t exactly a match either!” Emily squeaked.

“Now, now Emily,” Break chided his doll playfully, “we mustn’t rub this sort of thing in people’s faces.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Reim’s voice was muffled by the floor

Break laughed, “Is that so?”

“All in good fun!” Emily chirped.

“It’s not fun for me!” he retorted, sitting up, “How can your idea of fun be tormenting your best friend!” Reim got up off the floor and sat on his bed.

“Come now, Reim-san, ‘torment’ is a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“I meant what I said! I mean, who in their right mind thinks a good way to wake their friend up is to stuff freezing-cold snow—”

He interrupted himself, looking at each of them with question in his eyes. He repeated the word, “Snow…?”

Sharon and Break grinned at each other.

Break helped his friend up, saying, “And whoever said I was in my right mind? Didn’t you know? All the best people are mad.”

Reim rolled his eyes.

Sharon and Break stepped up to the window to unveil the answer to his question. Reim followed to inspect the view outside.

Then he looked at each of them, shaking his head and smiling. “Really, you two, after all these years…”

He trailed off, going over to his wardrobe to put on the winter clothes he kept there.

They barely had time to blow out the candles before Sharon grabbed both their hands and dragged them out into the moonlit hall.

They were like little kids trying to get a peek at Santa; bumbling down the hall, almost falling over each other, shushing each other, as they made their way through the manor, down the stairs, out the front door, into the cold grounds.

Even with their winter clothing, the cold still crept in. The snow muffled ordinary sounds, falling seamlessly, sparks of scattered moonlight gleaming off the flakes.

“So, we’ll—” Reim was interrupted by Break throwing a snowball at the back of his head.

“Oy! I was talking!” he whirled around.

“What’s there to talk about, Reim-san?” Break tossed another snowball up and down in his hand.

“I was simply—”

This time it was Sharon who threw the snowball at his face.

“Nice shot, Ojousama,” Break mentioned.

“Thank you,” she grinned, “You’re next, Xerx-niisan.”

“Alright, you two are going down,” Reim challenged.

“That’s more like,” Break smirked.

It didn’t make sense that three adults could have so much fun doing something so childish as playing in the snow. But between exploding snow and shouting, their laughter was what radiated like light from the scene. Maybe they forgot they weren’t children, they forgot that they had grown up things to do, responsibilities to attend to, and that the world was really comprised of blood and pain, and worthless names, not innocence and friendship.

The mad tea party, forever trapped in a moment, forgotten by time.

It was a while later when another voice broke through:

“Hey, what are you guys doing?”

They paused, turning to see Oz at one of the balconies.

“Our humblest apologies, Oz-sama!” Reim shouted back, bowing low, “We didn’t intend to be so loud!”

“No worries!” he yawned, “Are you…having a snowball fight?”

“That’s right, Oz-kun,” Break answered, “Would you like to join us?”

“Really?! You’ll let me?!”

“Sure,” he tossed a snowball up and down in his hand again, “but we certainly won’t be going easy on you!”

Oz beamed. “Hang on a sec! Lemme grab Gil and Alice!”

Not long afterwards, they heard the all-too-familiar sounds of Gilbert and Alice shouting, and they their annoyed faces appeared on the balcony.

“Why are you three having a snowball fight at 6:00 in the morning!” Gilbert yelled down to them.

“Oh? You scared you didn’t make the cut?” Break taunted . “Clown! Is this your doing?!” Alice demanded, “I’ll come down there and make you pay for waking me up!”

As Break spoke to them, Reim saw it as an opportunity to get his own revenge, and snuck up behind him. Break, of course, still heard him coming and, once again, tripped him, as he got close.

Break walked around him in a circle, grinning shaking his head, “You’re going to have to try harder than that to beat me.”

Reim gave an expression akin to Gilbert’s evil eye.

Break kicked some snow onto his head as he walked by, just to rub it his face (quite literally).

Oz, Gilbert, and Alice tumbled down the front steps, already laughing and yelling at each other before they even joined the fight.

“Well look who it is,” Break taunted, leaning over them, then Emily continued,

“The dumb bunny, the spoiled brat, and—” he didn’t get to finish, because the two lunged at him.

There weren’t really any teams, or way of keeping score—it was everyone against everyone else, though each of them had their own approach: Gilbert had a more meticulous method; creating a stash of snowballs, and walls to hide behind, (often getting hit in the building process). Oz was would sneak up on people, and took particular pleasure in knocking down, or stealing, Gil’s hard work, while Alice ran around pelting everyone in sight, holding a particular grudge against anyone who landed a hit on her (who were mostly Break and Oz).

Near the end of their fight, as Break snuck up on Sharon, just about to land a hit on her, he found himself falling, and was then somehow on the other side of the yard,

He paused to regain his bearings, and stood back up to his full height, quickly discerning what had happened.

“Is that really fair, Ojousama?” he called across the yard, knowing she had used her Chain.

She chuckled like it was a trivial offense, “Since when have you cared what’s fair Xerx-niisan?”

Well, she got me there.

It was at this moment he felt a rush of cold! against his neck, and tensed, resisting the urge to spill some choice words. He spun around to see that Reim had been waiting behind a nearby tree and, as he addressed his mistress, Reim had managed to get the perfect revenge.

Break pulled back his shirt to make sure the snow fell, scowling at his friend.

“Say it,” Reim folded his arms over his chest.

“What? That you got me?”

Reim’s expression was unmoving.

“I’ll say nothing of the sort, Reim-san,” he flicked his glasses, “After all, you merely copied me. You should be more creative next time.”

Reim’s fingers curled into fists, practically growling at him.

“I didn’t know we could use Chains!” Oz called, running up to them, having noticed Sharon’s expert use of Eques, (but not the following exchange between Break and Reim.)

“Seaweed-head! Release my limiter!” Alice shouted when she heard, “I want to smash the clowny bastard to smithereens!”

“Is that so?” Break called, “You really want to go down that path, Alice-kun?” Break smirked evilly, “My Mad Hatter would destroy you before Gilbert-kun even had the chance.”

“You wanna go, clown!” Alice hollered, and Gilbert had to hold her back to keep her from rushing at him with teeth and claws.

Reim looked worried, and Oz—wearing a similar expression—spoke in hushed tones, “No, Alice! You don’t want to go up against his Mad Hatter!”

“Try me, Manservant!”

“Break! No one wants to see you killing yourself over some stupid fight with some little girl!” Gilbert scolded.

“Oy! Who you callin’ ‘some little girl’?!” Alice snapped at Gilbert.

That seemed to return Reim to his senses,

“That’s right!” Reim scolded, “What did I tell you about being reckless with your powers?!”

“Always so tense, you two,” he walked up to Alice and ruffled her hair, “I’m only teasing.”

Alice broke free, and the fight resumed, though the others were glad to see neither managed to draw blood, and that it quickly returned to the antics of the snowy game.

And for one brief moment, Break forgot about everything else. About the nightmares, the regrets, and the answers he clung to so desperately as a reason to keep himself from falling further. And for one moment, he could see those flickering lights behind dark eyes, and he was happy he could feel the cold biting his skin, he was happy he could see their faces—rosy-cheeked, all smiles and laughs, even if they were yelling at him—for one precious flicker of a moment, he was happy to be alive.

That moment would end. The shadows would crawl back from the corners of his mind, the smiles would become fake again, the world would become a wax museum of happiness. Reasons that were just that, empty reasons; desire had left them behind in an alleyway long ago, for better, darker wishes. The pain would come back, and once again he’d convince himself, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care about them. About what happens to me. The snow white chaos would return to tears too fast. But in this moment, it was okay. He was okay.

Sharon and Reim ran at him, but instead of getting out of the way, this time he let them bowl him over, the three of them collapsing in the snow.

Shock flitted across their faces, which broke for smiles.

He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell them over and over I love you both so very much. But he wasn’t the only one who knew that those words falling from Xerxes Break’s lips was all too close to admitting defeat. Because if he admitted he cared, then he wouldn’t be able to let them go when the end came. And he knew it would come all too soon. His lips wouldn’t dare betray him with such miserable words.

So they settled for a smile.

His real smile. Not the smirks and grins he gave away at a moment’s notice. The smile that was barely perceptible, but which, for them, captured within its folds more sunlight than anything else in their world.

Sharon and Reim glanced at each other, then smiled back at him, deciding not to sully the moment with words.

And, as soon as it came, the true smile was replaced with a smirk.

“You two really are gullible,” he put snow in their hair.

They jumped up, shouting his name, trying to rub it out, then quickly ran after him.

He couldn’t tell them the truth. He couldn’t tell them that he was thinking how this might be his last Christmas. He couldn’t tell them how he was wondering if they would still put his stocking on the mantelpiece when he was gone.

He didn’t get a chance to anyways, because it wasn’t long afterwards when beads of citrus and crimson light began tracing the navy sky.

They paused, panting, raising their eyes to look into the sunrise.

For a moment they stared silently at the art the morning made of daybreak, gentle smiles tracing their lips at the beauty.

Then Oz broke in, exclaiming,

“Merry Christmas, everyone!”

“Merry Christmas!” they answered, a little tiredly.

“What do you guys think?” Reim asked, “Ready to go inside?”

“Aww, but we were having so much fun!” Oz protested, trying to mask the fatigue in his voice.

“Easy for you to say, we’re exhausted!”

“To be fair, we were out here much longer than them,” Break panted, realizing just how tired he was. “Perhaps I have gotten old after all. If you youngin’s want to go on—” he flapped a shirt sleeve their direction.

“There he goes again calling himself old!”

Sharon broke in, “Don’t you want to open presents?”

“Presents?!” Oz repeated, like a dog who had seen a squirrel, glancing at Gilbert and Alice, his grin widening.

They began to make their way inside, still laughing and talking about the plays they each had made, and how they would eventually get each other back. As they walked back, instead of joining the conversation, Sharon gently tugged on the corner of Break’s coat, holding him back.

He turned to see that instead of the tired, but joy-full smile that had traced her face moments earlier, she was hanging her head low.

“Ojousama?” he asked worriedly, crouching down beside her, seeing tears begin to grace her cheeks.

The others noticed, and stopped too.

“Xerxes! What did you do?!” Reim demanded.

“Yeah, Break! How dare you make a girl cry on Christmas?!” Oz questioned, running up to her.

He rolled his eyes at them.

“I’m fine, everyone,” Sharon reassured them, giving a somewhat plastered smile, “I’ll just be a moment.”

They all glanced at each other, knowing something was clearly wrong.

“Are you sure?” Gilbert asked.

“Yeah, Sharon-chan, if you need something—”

“Yes. Please, go inside. Break and I will catch up with you.”

They glanced at each other.

“Alright, Sharon-chan. Just let us know if you need anything, okay?” Oz put a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Oz-sama,” she smiled.

The others gave similar smiles back to her, then they gave Break a collective you-better-not-make-this-worse look before walking up the stairs into the manor.

“Sharon?” he asked softly.

No matter how many years went by, he still couldn’t handle the sight of a child in tears.

“Xerx-niisan,” he could tell she was fighting back against the tears, “What if… What if this is your last Christmas?”

He gasped; he didn’t expect her to be thinking about the same thing.

“What if…” she continued, breath taut, “What if we never get to have another snowball fight? What if…?”

“Well,” he rubbed his neck, looking away, “you and Reim can still—”

“Don’t act like everything will be the same when you’re gone!” she threw snow into his face.

He fell back onto his elbows, gently brushing it out of his hair. After a moment a laugh bubbled in his throat, and he put his hand on his face.

“What’s so funny?!” she demanded, scowling.

Obviously that was the wrong thing to do.

If only she had chosen someone else to comfort her; someone like Oz, who could read the situation, and chose his words carefully. Or Gilbert, who was sensitive enough to understand. Even Reim would be better, despite his rather unemotional, straightforward nature. But she had chosen him.

“It’s funny…to tell you the truth,” his voice became more serious, “It’s just…I was thinking about the same thing.”

Shock added to the concoction of hurt and yearning in her eyes.

“Y-You were?”

He looked at the ground and nodded ever so slightly.

“How dare you laugh at that?” she balled a fist in the snow, but the strength seemed to leave her.

She shook her head, tears fluttering back to her eyes, “You can’t…Xerx-niisan, you can’t! I…I don’t want to be alone!” she put her arms around him and fell onto him.

His eye was wide, his breath harsh and cold as he looked at the girl in his arms, forgetting for a less than a moment that she was not that little girl in a darkened room, surrounded by coffins.

He shook his head of the memory.

“You won’t be alone, you’ll have Reim, and Sheryl-sama, and—”

She lifted her head to scowl at him, as if to say must-I-repeat-what-I-said and he cleared his throat, changing his method of attack.

“Well, I won’t go down easy, that’s for sure. But, despite how it might seem,” he gently ran his finger along her cheek, giving that sad but true smile, and whispered, “I am not that strong.”

“You think you can talking about you dying all the time and I’ll just—?!” she tried to fight back, to be angry, but her words fell like the snow, and she murmured again, she let her head fall back onto his shoulder, and whispered back, “Xerx-niisan…”

He gently wrapped his own arms around her.

“I want to be there for you…” she murmured, “I don’t want you to do something stupid…You’re always running into fights without a second thought…” she sobbed for a moment before saying, “Maybe we could…maybe we could stop it? I-I could go into the fights with Eques…Oz-sama and Gilbert-sama—”

He pressed a kiss into her hair, and as she lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him with the wide and teary eyes of her younger self. The look in his eyes was enough to say I’m sorry, Sharon.

“It’s just like I told you, Ojousama,” he ran his fingers through her hair, and murmured into her ear, “No matter how much I may want it to, I can’t stop it from raining.”

She lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him.

“No matter how much we might want it to, we can make the snow fall. Our wishes can’t change things. Even if…” his words were blown by the wind into the stars.

She shook her head gently, murmuring that name.

“Just promise me you won’t make any illegal contracts to bring me back,” he laughed a little, which turned into a grimace, and she knew just how serious he was being.

She smiled for the first time since the conversation started. “I promise.”

For a moment they sat there, together, in a sort of limbo, watching as the sunrise turned into a light blue sky—a present sorrow caught between the earlier joy, wondering which emotion of the two would soon come. Moments were so finicky.

“I can’t promise I’ll have another Christmas, but we still have today. Let’s not waste it with talking about depressing things.”

She nodded, smiling.

He gently reached down and picked her up.

“Xerx-niisan!” she protested at first.

He touched her nose with his finger.

After a moment, as he took her inside, she rested her head against him sleepily, murmuring, “Xerx-niisan, I don’t want…I don’t want you to pretend you’re okay for my sake.”

His eye widened and he jerked his head to look at her.

“Don’t give me that look,” she responded, “I know you do it. You think I can’t handle it.”

He took a deep breath, “I’m fine, Ojousama,” he murmured, and smiled, “It’s Christmas, after all.”

She shook her head, “No you’re not!”

Once again he kissed her head gave her his real smile, “No, really, Sharon. I am. At least for today.”

The smile she returned was real too.

And that was worth far more to them than either of them needed to say aloud.

[reesewestonarchive]

chapter four / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

Music pulses through Nakoa’s legs, and Jenna’s body sways against Nakoa’s, pressed against him as close as she can go. She smells like mangoes, like sweat.

Nakoa inhales against her neck, licks a long line up to her jaw, sucks against it. She shudders underneath him, and Nakoa grins as she takes his hand, presses it beneath her jeans. She turns her head, pupils blown wide, and she says, “Wanna go back to mine?”

Yes. Absolutely. Nakoa feels a buzz in his veins he hasn’t in a while at the prospect, and—”Yeah. You bet.”

He’s not sure where Rem is, but he’s been gone all day. left that morning, didn’t come back, even though the car still sits in the parking lot at the motel. At least, it did, before Nakoa took to the streets to find something to take his mind of it, off of wondering where Rem was.

Probably wasted in the back alley of some bar, still downing a bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered off of some unsuspecting bartender.

Or—maybe he’s doing exactly what Nakoa’s doing now, finding somebody to bury his dick into, get off without the mountain of complications.

It’s been three days, and between sightseeing and sleep, they’re only just west of Denver, in some shitty small town that reminds Nakoa of Withervale just a little too much, but the girls are attractive, and the guys look like they could punch Nakoa out if he stared a little too long, and Rem’s been in a bad mood since Baldie.

Nakoa’ll take his chances, he thinks, with Jenna. He asks, “Are you far?” and grins when she shudders as he touches her.

He goes home with Jenna, and tries not to think of Rem when he comes.

Jenna offers to give him a ride back to the motel, but in the aftermath Nakoa really just wants a fucking shower, to wash what feels like a layer of filth off of him, and some awkward fifteen minute drive across town isn’t going to make him feel any better.

And it’s not cold out, anyway. “I’m good,” he says, as he tugs on jeans. Jean covers herself with her sheet, cocks her head to the side.

“You okay?” Her tone is just this side of concerned; she’s being polite, but Nakoa can tell she’s not really interested in the answer.

“Yeah,” he says, then, for a reason he doesn’t know, he says, “just complicated.”

“Aw,” Jenna says, sitting at the end of her bed. “I know complicated.” She gives him a glance, then says, “You a cool guy?”

Nakoa’s a loser. Unemployed and homeless and traveling across the country without any kind of a fucking plan, in search of a better life he’s not sure he’s ever going to find. Mediocrity feels less like a shadow hunting him and more like the prize at the end of the race.

Is he running away from it, or running towards it?

“I guess.” She can’t be talking about that.

“My girlfriend and I are kind of on a break.” She shrugs. “And it’s so stupid.”

“Relationships are complicated,” Nakoa says. He pulls his shirt over his head. “My…” but the word doesn’t come. What is Rem? His best friend? It’s not untrue, but he’s reasonably sure most best friends don’t fuck.

Most.

Is there a word for something in the middle, between romantic and friendly?

As she watches him, Jenna seems to pick up what’s going through his head. “Oh,” she says, pointing a finger at him. “You got it bad.”

“I do not.”

“And I thought me and my girl were complicated.”

For some reason, that pisses Nakoa off more. “There’s no girl.”

It’s the first time he’s even come close to saying the word out loud. Nakoa knows there’s a word for who he is, but it still feels wrong when he says it, when he thinks it. Not the attraction—there’s merit in sleeping with all kinds of people—but the word. The way people see it and think disgusting. Heathen.

“Oh.” Jenna’s voice is soft, and she stands. “So. Same boat.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

They kiss before Nakoa leaves, just because Jenna enjoys it, just because she asks, and Nakoa agrees because she showed him a good time, and it’s the least he can do. He wishes her good luck with her girlfriend and stomps back to the hotel room.

Where Rem sits, outside of it, empty fifth clutched between his knees. He doesn’t hear Nakoa approach, but he does react when Nakoa touches his shoulder, jerks away like Nakoa’s burned him.

“About fucking time,” he says, and his voice is like a river, watery and rushing, tripping over itself in his eagerness to speak. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Sorry,” Nakoa says. Doesn’t point out that Rem has a key, too. He unlocks the door. He tugs on Rem’s arm, and the whiskey bottle falls to the sidewalk, crashes and breaks. Nakoa leaves it. “Did you drink all of that?”

“It’s—” He hiccups. “Bottom shelf, don’t get hissy.”

Nakoa took… something, at the club, earlier, before he went home with Jenna. He’s awfully fucking hypocritical if he tells Rem that he can’t do this. At least he came back. At least they got away from Baldie. From Withervale.

Drunk and alive is better than the alternative.

He draws Rem into the shower, starts taking off his clothes, and Rem says, “Ooh, am I gonna fuck you over the counter?”

“Keep dreaming,” Nakoa says, as he pulls off Rem’s jeans. He’s cold, so Nakoa warms the water and shoves him under the stream. Rem yelps, but relaxes into the hot, if lacking pressure, water. His entire body goes slack as it cascades over him.

Nakoa turns away, doesn’t watch, as tempting as it is. “You get back okay?”

Rem laughs. “Please. Liquor store’s not that far away. Where’d you get off to?”

“Girl I met at the club.” Nakoa pitches his voice higher, to be heard over the water. “You have a good time?”

“Better when you’re there.”

But he didn’t ask. He’d blazed through cities, the last forty eight hours, taking small roads instead of highways, getting lost and debating over the map with Nakoa multiple times, and.

“Missed you,” Rem says, his voice quiet. Nakoa wonders if he even said it at all. If maybe he imagined it. He’s been wanting to hear Rem say it for so long. Hoping for some kind of sign.

But no.

The water shuts off, and Nakoa makes his way back out into the room, digs in Rem’s bag until he finds something suitable for bed for him. The idiot’ll pass out on the bed, if he doesn’t, and Nakoa’ll end up with none of the blanket instead.

Rem stands in the threshold to the bathroom, though, and Nakoa glances up at him, just once, before turning back to the task at hand.

“I mean it,” Rem says.

Means what? “Sure.” T-shirt, underwear. It’ll work. Someday, when Nakoa’s not counting every penny, he’ll buy Rem some new clothes, fi him back in with the style.

Nakoa, though. He needs a job, first. Something simple, something under the table. A stable place in LA, or somewhere else, because he and Rem are living off of gas station snacks and Nakoa’s stomach is protesting bite of food he eats.

But every mile between him and Withervale feels a little more like flying

He gives Rem his clothes, and before he can turn away, Rem’s fingers reach out, wrap around his wrist. His voice is soft, unlike him, when he says, “Nakoa,” and Nakoa looks up, studies the lines in Rem’s face, the curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he lifts a shoulder in a shrug and holds uncertainty deep in his chest like an old friend. Rem strokes his thumb down Nakoa’s wrist, and there’s a short glimpse of a smile before he lifts one hand, the one holding his towel, and pulls Nakoa in, forehead to forehead, whiskey strong on his breath.

Nakoa breathes it in, lets his eyes fall close as the towel unravels at Rem’s feet, as Rem closes the distance between them.

Rem tastes like whiskey, like freedom, like betrayal, but Nakoa can’t complain if he tastes like someone else. He accepts the kiss for whatever it is, and pulls back. Taps his fingers against Rem’s chest and says, “I’m pretty tired, man.”

It’s not a denial, but Rem’s different, shitfaced, whiskey heavy on his lips and in his limbs, and Nakoa likes him normal, likes him sober, likes the way he lingers. Often, Nakoa wonders if he imagines the lingering.

He doesn’t question it. But the stark difference between sober and drunk feels like night and day, and Nakoa would rather not.

If Rem asks, the answer is yes. But Nakoa prefers not giving him the opportunity to ask. It’s easier to deny him.

Sometime in the night, Rem wakes and vomits over the side of the bed. Nakoa m, eyes heavy with sleep, says nothing. Presses himself against Rem’s back when he’s done, wracking his brain for a song. Settles in on “Friday I’m in Love” after he decides The Clash might be too fast.

His forehead is sweaty against Rem’s shoulder blades. But he doesn’t pull away, keeps humming for Rem well after the song is through, continuing with Modern English and Simple Minds.

“You don't have to do this.”

Nakoa doesn’t falter in his humming, just drops a hand over Rem’s waist and tugs him in.

He pressed his mouth against Rem’s skin, not like a kiss, bur as much like one as he dares. He hums, holds Rem’s denial behind his teeth, doesn’t answer.

-

“Clutch,” Rem says, pressing on Nakoa’s left knee. “Middle is brake. Right’s gas.” He taps the gear shift. “So, driving. Ease off the gas a bit, onto the clutch, shift, off the clutch, onto the gas.”

Nakoa blinks. His heart beats, strong and steady in his chest. “And to move?”

Rem’s voice holds its tone when he speaks, walks Nakoa through the steps. The car stalls under Nakoa’s guidance the first three times, but Rem pushes him forward, encouragement heavy in his words, and Nakoa’s chest swells with pride when he can finally drive his way across the parking lot.

They traded in the junker for this piece of shit, more torn up than the last. It smells like weed and vomit and pine trees, but it gets better mileage, and the speakers aren't blown out, and Rem won fifteen hundred in a bet on the game two nights ago.

The Earth feels less like Jello beneath Nakoa's feet.

Rem grips his thigh when Nakoa turns through the parking lot, pleased as he lets out a yell, and—oh.

Nakoa kills the engine, and the car comes to a slow stop. “Fuck.”

But Rem waves it away. “It’s great! Shit, I burnt out Billi’s clutch the first time I tried—” But at the mention of his mother, Rem’s expression falls. He shoves open the door, says, “Enough for today.”

They’re in Utah. Have been for a few days, after replacing the windshield in Colorado, after Jenna.

Yesterday, Nakoa got inexplicably homesick, stared at a payphone for five minutes, and convinced himself not to call.

Barely.

They settle into each other’s seats. The beauty of this van, Nakoa realizes, is that it isn’t; an old, clunker of a beast, with the back seats torn out and a sunroof modded in. Except for showers, they don’t need motels anymore.

Their trip got a hell of a lot cheaper. And, heading into LA, Nakoa’s not sure how far their money will go.

Relieved to be out of the driver’s seat, back under Rem’s practiced hand, Nakoa reaches for the cigarettes and lights up.

His voice echoes. “Think we can find a mattress?”

“One that isn’t covered in shit or blood?” Rem shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”

They do; kind of. They definitely find the mattress. An old, stained old thing from an old woman in the city, who’s upgrading for her and her husband. She takes one look at the van, one look at Nakoa and Rem, and pats Rem’s hand with a twinkle in her eye. “I expect you boys will get plenty of use out of it.”

She winks at Nakoa, and Nakoa offers her an uncertain smile. Rem looks like his head is going to blow off if she doesn’t let go of it.

The manhandle the mattress into the back of the van after Nakoa hands over the twenty. The mattress isn’t stained, isn’t old, but it’s floral and weak and smells of mothballs, and when Nakoa shuts the door to the passenger seat, it already reeks of old perfume in the van.

Rem sits next to him, quiet and pensive. Doesn’t start the van.

Nakoa waits, but ten minutes and he’s still sitting there. “What?”

“What’d she mean by that?”

By… what? “Who?”

“Getting use out of it. That’s not fucked up to you?”

For the— “Rem, she probably meant with girls.”

“…Right.”

“You’re really worried about what some random old woman has to say about shit?” Nakoa’s not exactly out and proud, but this isn’t under his skin. Rem picks at what’s left of the polish on his nails, his body tense and unforgiving. “Rem.”

“Never mind.”

He’s ashamed, then; that’s what that means. His mothers, he has mothers, and he still feels shame. Nakoa’s own family makes jokes at the expense of people like them, has told him that if one of their children was queer they’d set them straight, and Rem’s the one sitting here worried about what this old woman thinks of them.

But it’s not anger that courses through Nakoa’s veins, thinking that. Instead, confusion muddles his brain. He tries to think of something, anything, to make him feel better, but there’s nothing. Not words, anyway. Nakoa licks his lips, he’s about to suggest that they go to a park, or an abandoned parking garage or something and they can christen the new mattress, but Rem puts the van gear and drives off.

They hit up a department store for the sheets, and Nakoa spends twenty minutes glaring at on-sale camping gear trying to find sleeping bags that don’t look like shit while Rem searches for pillows, and Nakoa feels the weight of his remaining money in his pocket like a brick.

He’s not sure how much is left. Between the van, the motels, food, Nakoa’s sure it’s dwindling. Rem says nothing, just brings home dinner, whiskey, less and less every day.

 Nakoa buys the blankets. What else are they supposed to do—go back home?

They find a place on an empty road, far from the city, that night, coyotes howling in the distance, a small campfire built out of the back end of the van. Rem hangs his legs off the van, stares up at the sky. A bottle of whiskey sits between his legs. Bowie plays softly in the background.

Nakoa’s not sure of the last time he’d been this happy. In Utah, of all places, so far from home that Withervale feels like a separate fucking planet.

In the clear night, the glow of the crackling fire, Nakoa wonders if Rem would agree. If he seems happy, or if he is happy. Rem never fucking talks to him, tells him to fuck off if Nakoa gets too close. If he missteps. He’s a jackass.

Nakoa’s afraid of how much he likes him anyway. If, once they get to LA, if Rem will enjoy it. If he’ll enjoy it too much.

He reaches for the whiskey, pleased by the noise Rem makes as he goes for it. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Rem’s laugh comes stark and surprising, echoes across the empty space, and Nakoa wants to kiss him until he feels that warmth through his entire body. “Probably the only thing I can get up right now.”

Snorting, Nakoa lifts the whiskey to his lips, savors the taste, the taste, and heat that pools in his stomach. “This is,” he says, but doesn’t know what he wants to say. Captivated by the stars, by the scenery. But Rem’s quiet, comforting presence beside him—

Nakoa wants to kiss him. Press him into the flowery, old mattress behind them and undress him, kiss down his chest and blow him, press into him until Nakoa’s name rests on his lips soft and tense. Until Rem clenches his teeth and his groan comes from his chest and.

Fuck. He wants, so much, to make Rem feel so good that he forgets what the world has done to him. 

“I’ve thought about living off the land before. Away from the city. Own a little farm or something.” An orchard. Some goats. Chickens, the modern dinosaurs they are, and Nakoa presses his finger against the ankylosaurus tattoo on his side. Thinks back to the artist that did it for him, briefly, and what he’s doing.

If he remembers Nakoa at all.

“Get the fuck away from people,” Rem says. He sounds tired, now, drunk. He hops from the van and kicks dirt over the fire. It’s dark enough that Nakoa can’t make out Rem’s features without direct light.

“Yeah.” But not Rem. “Dunno. Don’t wanna get kicked in the head, either.” Doesn’t want to give Rem up. He holds that deep inside his chest, though, locked away where he hopes Rem won’t find it, where Nakoa himself won’t be tempted to look.

When Rem says nothing, Nakoa crawls up the mattress, knees scraping the cool metal of the floor of the van. He tugs one of the sleeping bags over his body, presses his face into his pillow and sighs.

He’s not sure when Rem shuts the door and joins him, but Rem lies there, on his back, until Nakoa’s loopy with exhaustion and alcohol, and on the verge of sleep. Nakoa hears him say, “I—”

And then Nakoa passes out.

[sunshineonamission-blog]

sunday morning

1/27/19

I woke up yesterday morning and I didn’t know so much pain could stay in my body.

I called mom. I needed her. 

My eyes were swollen almost shut from crying. 

Heartbroken. But he didn’t break my heart. 

Everyone said the same thing. Mom, Dad, Alex, Amy. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. It’ll come back around. 

I picked up my packages at Speare and sat reading the Creative Habit for a second. 

A single lacrosse player in a white helmet and white shoes was practicing with a lax back outside my window and I cried. It wouldn’t be Daniel though. He’d still be in his peacoat. 

I went to Miss You Like Hell with Julia

I couldn’t breathe getting dressed when I realized I’d worn the outfit I was about to throw on - black tights and my denim dress with my pink bralette with my platform shoes- when I realized I’d created that outfit for the train ride down to Boston winter break to the park plaza. It’d be an easy dress to take off, easy to change into my sexy undies, I was so sweaty when we got the hotel that the entire sides of the dress were soaked from my armpits and we laughed. Change of plans obviously. I wore my new jumper. I’ve never worn it before. I wanted to show him how I looked kinda nice even though my eyes were smaller than usual.

Julia was very kind and listened and understood. It was really important to me that they all didn’t just have whatever Mia’s version of the story was.

The tickets at the ART were identical to my barbershop chronicles one. I sat with lead actress’s boyfriend and mother, who went on about how they’d been dating for 8 years and met in high school show choir. How they were gonna get married and she’d flown in for possible mother-in-law points. How her last show was at the Seacoast Repertory Theatre in Newburyport. That hurts. That hurt a lot. As either mom or dad said after, “Can’t make this shit up” 

The play was incredible. Relevant and necessary and breathtaking. It hurt. And I am in a raw state of being. So everything hurt doubly. When she sang “I’m gonna miss you like hell. There’s a hole in the world in the shape of you. I’m gonna miss you like hell. There’s a hole in the world in the shape of us.” or “You are the bread and I am the hunger” I wept for this mother and daughter who are real they are real and this story is real. And selfishly, selfishly, I wept for myself. I wept for the loss of the love of my life. I wept for the fact that I couldn’t call Daniel after the show and tell him how incredible it was and how I wanna direct something like that. 

At intermission I opened my phone to a long text from Amy. I stood up and suddenly was outside the theatre and I was crying so uncontrollably. Somehow the most painful words there were the first ones. “Hi sweetheart. I talked with Daniel today.” Because of everything that meant. Because it means it’s real. It’s real. Because it means she talked to Daniel my Daniel about how he’s not my Daniel anymore. 

I wish it didn’t happen yet. It had to. I wish it didn’t happen on that day. I wish it didn’t. I wish it didn’t. I wish it didn’t. I hope he knows I didn’t give a fuck about that party. I think he does. 

I hope he feels the way I do, still. I hope that he feels like we did the right thing but God I hope he wants to take it back as much as I do. That’s selfish. I know that. I don’t want him to be in pain and this is the worst pain I have ever felt. Ever. I called Dad when I got home last night and he said it might be permanent it probably is and I screamed that I didn’t want it to be. I don’t want it to be. I wish I could’ve said Daniel. Wait for me. Live your life. Have fun. Love it. Grow. But wait for me. And the thing is, that’s our hope. He said he’ll never not be thinking about me. I believe him. Because I know him, and fuck any hard time I’ve ever had believing him. That boy says only what he means. But I know that life continues. And I want his life to be magical. And I wanna be in it. And I wanna run back to him next week and say was this enough? Is it time? 

But i will see him again. Soon.

I hope we can keep in touch a little. I really think I need that. 

He’s my best friend.

I will never fall out of love with him.

I will always love him.

Right now I miss my best best friend. 

And I can know this: that when I have figured out these things:

How to love myself fairly unconditionally  -or at least not to hate myself. Not to swallow myself. To be kind.

How to make certain my self-love is fueled by my own satisfaction with Who I Am and not how others praise me. 

How to make my own happiness and not let it hinge upon the satisfaction of others with me. 

How to make choices for myself. 

If not what I want to do for the rest of my life, where I’m going next. What do I want now. 

And then, how to get it. 

When have figured out these things, I will find him. I will knock on his door. I’ll say hi. You are the love of my life. Is it time yet? And maybe it will be and maybe it won’t be but someday it will. Someday, someday, it will be. 

I woke up in my Grinch PJs with makeup contacts bra and two layers of shirts and a feeling like there isn’t joy in the world for me. 

I am about to have a productive day and try my very best to get everything done for tomorrow without staying up too late,

I’m gonna try to make Angels fantastic. 

I’m gonna explore some options.

[sundrenched-smilez]

odd numbers for the lesbian asks! (if it's too many just do every 4th one maybe?)

1. Femme or butch? 

for type, im vry easily wooed by butches tbh

as for myself, im genderfluid + heavily lean towards butch-ish for one gender + have been gettin more comf w that term for myself. the 3 genders i switch between, ive described as sharp, dainty and tired, for reason of not really being comf w gender labels aside from nonbinary. sharp/tired r kinda butchish, moreso sharp. like leather jackets, ripped jeans, dress pants/shirts, defs flannels (which r a given for any mood im in tbh) while tired is like mb softer, more focused on flannels + loose tank tops/shirts, shorts + certain skirts, comfy clothes, and the like   

ive found that i’m leaning more towards butch lately too, like i’ve been a lot more comfortable with pants and a nice top than i have w dresses or most skirts + im wondering if i was just hanging on to femininity for sake of society, so those r things 2 think abt. i still feel comf in them sometimes, but it’s getting much less often. gender’s weird, i still cant cling to one bc of how pressuring that is so genderfluidity is still smth for me + it shifting to different percentages is okay (im thinking out loud @ this point, but its helping so i hope its interesting to read)

3. Plaid button-ups or leather jackets?

both, but primarily flannels/plaid buttion-ups

5. Describe your aesthetic

aaahh theres a lot of diff aesthetics i could go into, but i have a tag if ur interested in a visual representation? basically, cosy homes, forests, wooden steps and bridges, cats, girls/nbs, water, plants, and old video game stuff, and clouds/skies. i’m sure there’s more in there, but for a good rule of thumb !! as for like dressing aesthetic, i like to look rly gay + attractive and a lil showy? like my shorts r Short and i love crop tops + a lot of my shirts show my bra thru them, + i like showing it when i can, like sports bra + a tank top is a fav look of mine bc i can make it look like my bra is a trim on the shirt + it’s cute. i’ve been wearing dresses less often, but occasionally, i like to rock one. id love a pair of combat boots but i have like size 11/12 feet + most stores dont carry that size + im hesitant to buy some online. 

7. Favorite pair of shoes?

its rly hard to find any, i have like walmart converse knockoffs atm + theyre a beige/grey color im not that huge on, it kinda reminds me of sandalwood but depressed

9. Any haircut goals for the future? 

there was the undercut!! and i have that down now c: next step is to dye it blue and mb some purple. i wanna bleach it if i’m gonna dye it, but im hesitant to do that bc of how damaging it is, but since my hair’s been cut a cpl time almost all the color is out now, so i think itll b ok if i take good care of it. 

11. Describe the worst date you’ve been on

i went to a cafe w someone (i think they were nb but i cant remember, it was like 2 yrs ago about ) and they were impossible to talk to bc they just kept saying “im awkward sorry” @ everything and like any conversations i tried to maintain were all one-shot responses, and like that was a lil frustrating. like i dont hold it against them or anything, more in a sense of i was rly tryin 2 carry it and just couldnt 

13. If taken, talk about your girlfriend/wife!

whooh i wish i was taken, i need affection + to b cute w someone 

15. Describe your dream wedding

hmmmm i havent thought much about it !! i know when i was younger i wanted to wear a black wedding dress but now im thinkin mb a suit that switches to dress @ the bottom?? that could b cool. I’d be happy w anything tbh, if im getting married, i’d just b happy to be w my wife/spouse. mb somewhere in a forest or on a boat would b cool, defs lots of good food and colorful flowers. I’d like a lot of color, most weddings ive been to are just b/w and bland for my taste (they’ve also all been straight tho so theres that.) it’s kind of wild to think that i might b married someday, but it’d b rly nice. i just haven’t thought much abt the planning of one. it’d b rly gay tho, probs give out tiny gay flags at each seat, and the cake could b lesbian flag colors. im rly drawing a blank on this, but i know id want all my friends around the country + world to be there. 

17. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

i definitely want to live in a port town at some point !! idk where i’d like to settle down, ideally somewhere that doesnt get much hotter than 90 degrees + has lots of parks + is big enough for some events, like pride stuff, little festivals, a farmer’s market, and places to do things, such as a movie theater, bowling alley, mb an aquarium, if not one in a nearby town. hiking trails r also good. 

19. Favorite lesbian novel/story?

on a sunbeam!!! its a huge inspiration for me, and i love it so much. it always puts me in such a good mindset when i read it, and the artist is my age, so it makes me feel like I can also accomplish great things if i rly put my heart into it!! which is such a good feeling, and it has great representation + characters that i love, and its rly gay, and in space and theres ships shaped like fish + its gorgeous : D i could go on for hrs abt it + how important it is to me. theres an nb character too, and like the aspect of found families is one that rly hits home and it helped me get thru a rough time of my life + better accept myself as queer/gay. 

21. Favorite lesbian musician?

adult mom (tho i think they’re bi but still gay), or hayley kiyoko

23. Ever been assumed to be nothing more than a gal pal?

i think so, but i can’t place when, it’s been a bit. 

25. Be positive! What do you like most about being a lesbian?

talking abt being gay w other girls/nbs is lovely and cathartic, i never got to growing up bc i lived in a homophobic town + i was like dealing heavily with internalized homophobia and body/gender dysphoria so i was ace for a bit. talking more abt like sexual attraction + aesthetic attraction is new to me, and that’s been a process to get to, but it’s nice that I can now do so w/o being belittled or barraged by insult. i also just love the thought of being w someone, and daydreaming abt when that happens is really nice. also,, girls + nbs r a blessing and brighten my day and im so glad im attracted 2 them 

27. Turn ons?

absolutely communication, that’s a need. i had a bad experience w someone bc she wasn’t communicative at all, and failed to tell me that we weren’t dating despite us going on several dates + kissing??? like i wont go too into it, but hatchi matchi it was a mess. so yeah, communication, affection, and like reassurance that they actually want to be with me, and that my presence is wanted and enjoyed. I got a lot of “i dont care”s for answers last sort-of relationship, and that was rly discouraging. another turn on is for them to initiate talking and things, like holding hands or planning to hang out + such. consent is another big one. 

29. Do you usually ask other women out or do you wait for them to ask you?

i usually tend to ask them out, but im still dealing w internalized junk, so its difficult. i also havent any situations in which they liked me back, which is frustrating. like i got lead on earlier summer for abt a month until i asked what we were doing + didnt rly get an answer, and it was this whole mess. i generally try to make the first move tho, bc i know firsthand how difficult it is, but that being said, it’s still hard for me to know for sure if theyre interested + i dont wanna make things uncomf w them, so i’ll wait until i think there might b attraction. that being said, once that’s all out of the way, i like to consider myself a good flirt when im trying. 

31. Talk about your interests or hobbies!

i have lots of interests!! im obsessed w steven universe, its my fav show (and if u ever have time, we should totally watch it together sometime, i rly think you’d love it, it’s super gay + heartwarming.) i really love playing music and learning new songs, which im rly great at memorizing. talking to friends + gettin 2 know them better is always nice and fun. i like to draw new things + see the different ways ppl draw, so seeing art on here is always fun for me. i’m also rly into polygon videos (it’s a youtube channel, not like videos abt polygon haha) and this podcast called the adventure zone. season one just ended, so i might start listening to another one called friends at the table. i rly wanna start a podcast w someone, but can never find anyone to start it with. idk what I’d talk abt but if i could find a partner for it, i think it’d be a lot of fun. mb smth abt games or books/queer representation in media. doing a dnd podcast would also b rly fun, but a lot of work + editing so mb later down the road !! im blanking on other interests atm, but animations and cartoons r lovely and i aim to make something in that field one day, if not just a comic.

my hobbies r mostlyyyy drawing, dnd things now every thursday, hanging w my friends, playing video games, sometimes writing (i rly wanna start a comic, and im tryin to get my butt into gear on it), goin to parks, listening to music, and goin 2 events w roe + cesar, two of my friends. sometimes ill play music!! i need to get more than the keyboard i’m lending, but i love performing. ill also watch leg birds on youtube, theyre a lesbian couple that plays gams + theyre rly sweet. 

33. Do you love easily or does it take time for you to warm up to someone?

its easy for me to love friends, doesnt usu take me more than a few months of knowing them if were talking a lot. as for falling in love, that takes me a lot longer. ive never rly been in love w someone. i thought i was once, but rly it was just my first gay experience w someone and i wanted it to be perfect so i projected a lot of things + made it better than it seemed to myself for the duration of it, which wasn’t healthy, so i wanna avoid doing that again, + take things slower next time. or at least for what they are. 

35. Ever fallen for a straight girl?

a few times, they were just crushes tho, so it wasnt too too bad

37. Favorite comfort food?

hot cocoa or tea. as for food food, i dont think i have one. mb french toast or cinnamon rolls. 

39. Vegetarian? Vegan? None of the above?

i used to be a vegetarian!! for like a yr, but it was difficult for me to eat and feel full, and i was pretty underweight, so i stopped. 

41. Early-riser or night-owl?

both, i tend to stay up, but getting up early can be nice if i dont have to do anything. like just gently waking + making some tea and a nice breakfast + sittin around for a bit. 

43. What is your Myers-Briggs type?

enfp-a 

45. At what age did you know you were a lesbian?

i think like 16-17? it took me a bit to get words for identity, like lesbian/nonbinary and the like, but i always knew, like id call myself an individual as opposed to gendered terms that i was referred to, and always felt rly yucky w deadname + the wrong pronouns

47. Are you crushing on anyone at the moment (celebrity or otherwise)?

ive got one crush atm !! and another person who seems nice, but i wanna hang out w before like thinking abt a crush (im poly, which perhaps goes w/o saying, but i always like to state it when talking abt these things, jic )

49. Talk about your dreams/aspirations for the future

i’d like a partner or two, to get some bongos- i got to play some a couple weeks ago, and it was the most fun i’ve had playing anything!! having smth with an instant response that i could make up rhythms with was really rewarding and so much fun. i know i want a cat at some point, to go on cute dates + cuddle and kiss a lot w someone, to visit my friends in other places, dye my hair, get a better job, to travel a bit, make a comic, go to college for animation and storyboarding, mb go to camp at some point, and I’d like to make some more friends here, i’m already making some, which i’m super happy about, but it’s always nice meeting new ppl 

thank u for asking!! this was relaxing + fun, and a lot of the topics were cathartic to talk about, and i needed it. so thanks for listening too kinda

also im queen of commas, i’ve discovered while typing this

[a-panda-reads-act-omega]

ACT OMEGA PART 8

THE 24/10/16 UPDATE

Woow, another liveblog from your favorite act omega liveblogger. Are there any other livebloggers out there i need to know.  So yeah, here we are with part 8! Big Vriska number for the win. Also only two updates away from double digits! Yeah, I’m not sure I thought this through with the whole update-update format, this might take a L OT of posts to get caught up. Luckily, I have no problem with making a fuckton of posts. Anyways, I think we left off with the kids, so lets hurry up and get back to them!

(Cant post the image. Here’s the link. http://mspfanventures.com/?s=16414&p=47)

GASP, IS thIS SOME MULTIPLE CHOICE SHIT? Well considering I’m forever going to be staying chronological, I suppose I should start with the one on the next page! 

A CHARACTER SELECTION MENU appears through the power of NON-LINEAR STORYTELLING. You know the drill by now, have some free will! Or just go in this order, if you think agency is overrated

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

Oh, that’s helpful. Great, I’ll start with ONE then.

The fact that you are a dedicated and loyal reader is obvious and indisputable, so of course you won’t be moving on ahead without having taken a gander at all of the options presented to you.

Obviously! what kinda brainless CHUMP would move on without you explicitly stating to? NOT ME.

Anyways, starting with ONE.

PFt, woah their eyes. 

KANAYA: (Hey) ROXY: oh heeeeey! KANAYA: (Hey To You Again Except Slightly More Quietly) ROXY: (oh sorry)

It seems they gotta be quiet for reasons. H  m m M..

ROXY: (why r we whispering) KANAYA: (I Am Not Entirely Sure)

So they just need to be miss zuipPer lips for no reason then?

KANAYA: (That Just Seems To Be What Everyone Has Lapsed Into Doing) KANAYA: (And Now Speaking In A Normal Volume Will Draw More Attention Than Desired Especially When Attempting To Have A Private Conversation) ROXY: (im lovin this private convo already but you might need to make it snappy)

so everybodys just whispering? do they all got SECRETS? Also, what’s the hurry Roxy?

ROXY: (john looks about ready to get down n dirty with some srs leadership biz)

Oh yeah.

KANAYA: (Alright Then I Will Attempt To Be Brief) KANAYA: (I Wanted To Thank You Again) KANAYA: (For The Matriorb Certainly)

Alright cool! It seems that this Kanaya does remember Roxy giving her the good ol’ matriorb. 

KANAYA: (But Additionally For Everything Else You Have Accomplished Today) KANAYA: (I Know Being The One To Strike The Final Blow Against Our Shared Enemy In The Midst Of Battle Does Not Necessarily Warrant Gratitude But I Thought It Might Be Nice For You To Hear That What You Did Was Appreciated)

What she DID, was prove herself to be a goddamn BADASS. But honestly everybody here’s a badass one way or another. 

KANAYA: (At Least By Me) KANAYA: (On Behalf Of My Species As Well As All Those Who Suffered At The Behest Of The Condesce) KANAYA: (And All Those That May Now Be Born And Live Free Of Tyranny) KANAYA: (You Did Good)

Pft, nice. “Ya did good, kid.” 

ROXY: (omg i am cri)

goddammit these lines always manage to be fucking perfect.

ROXY: (that wasnt brief @ all but twas so so bootiful) ROXY: (gdi cmere moms big loveable space gf)

OK this doesn’t need to be stated, but I fucking love roxy.

KANAYA: (Um I Would Prefer It If We Saved The Hug For Later Maybe) ROXY: (aww ok thats cool)

nO FUCKING HUG NOW

KANAYA: (Anyway I Have Only Just Met You But You Have Already Proven Yourself To Be Just As Extraordinary An Individual As Your...) KANAYA: (Uh) KANAYA: (Rose)

Nice Kanaya.

ROXY: (as my rose?) KANAYA: (Yes Your Rose) ROXY: (;D)

ITS CONFIRMED, Rose is Roxy’s Rose. this conversation is so cute.

See you’re still over there TZ. Whatcha lookin at? The uh... oh youre blind. what are you doing terezi?? come on girl, celebrate!

ROXY: (okay looks like john got distracted by somethin) ROXY: (so since we got a little more time to chat it up) ROXY: (and so long as were exchangin bomb as FUCK felicitations) ROXY: (youre not so shabby yourself yknow) ROXY: (like damn i was absolutely right youre one deadly customer)

Yeah no fuckin kidding, this girl knows how to kick ass.

ROXY: (seeing u whip out that BEASTLY CHAINSAW) ROXY: (was a sight to behold)

PFt, that was nothing. You should have seen when she single handedly put three of the most dangerous characters on the meteor out of commision. 

KANAYA: (I Really Did Not Do All That Much Surprisingly) KANAYA: (Or Perhaps Unsurprisingly) KANAYA: (I Am Not Sure If I Was Erring On The Side Of Caution After All) KANAYA: (Out Of Consideration For The Gift You Gave Me) KANAYA: (Or If Perhaps I Was Simply Unpracticed)

Well yeah, she didnt do as much in this battle as the others.  But like she said, she had the matriorb to keep safe. PLUS, she wasnt godtier. So yeah Kanaya, you’re excused from doing your makeup during the final epic battle.

ROXY: (who cares??) ROXY: (we WON) ROXY: (gave that witch what was COMING TO HER) ROXY: (and thats the end of that no point gettin our knickers all in a twist over it no more)

Roxy’s got the right idea. There doesn’t gotta be any more “proving yourself.” You did the battle, and you came out on top!  JUst be done with it.

KANAYA: (Yes I Suppose Youre Right) KANAYA: (Though I Do Wonder How Things Might Have Gone If I Had Attempted To Dust Off One Of The Old Fraymotifs)

Oh shit, Kanaya’s got fraymotifs? And also, you can use fraymotifs without being godtier?

oh. wait. terezi isnt godtier is she? Yeah, you totally can use fraymotifs without godtier.

ROXY: (no kidding!) ROXY: (yeah that woulda been pretty badass) ROXY: (we could have had a sick combo) ROXY: (void and...) ROXY: (uh) KANAYA: (Space) ROXY: (right yeah space)

Well too bad you’ll never have the opportunity to USE that sick deadly combo!

I am ONE HUNDRED percent sure that will be the case

i am SO SURE

nobody has to die anymore

so

completely sure.

KANAYA: (It May Have Indeed Been Sick But Upon Further Reflection Perhaps Not)

No kanaya, it would be SUPER fuckin badass dont even give me that shit.

ROXY: (wait rly) ROXY: (how come?) KANAYA: (I Dont Feel Like I Ever Got The Opportunity To Truly Get In Touch With My Aspect Like You) KANAYA: (It Has Never Seemed Pertinent That I Be Able To Cast Some Sort Of Spacey Enchantment) KANAYA: (In Fact I Have Yet To Stumble Across A Scenario I Could Not Handle Through More Traditional Methods) ROXY: (u mean a deadly body slam full a sharp metal teeth twice the length of your head) KANAYA: (Yes Precisely) KANAYA: (That Tends To Cover The Bases Pretty Well)

WELL, Chainsaws do seem to cover many different issues. Mainly the ones which involve somebody needing to be cut the fuck in half. But I dont know if being “In touch” with your aspect was ever really a thing. I mean, when did John become “in touch” with his aspect? He just sorta got the powers and did shit with them. i dont really know what that has to do with it- wait a goddamn second. People always associate the wind aspect with like independence and shit, right? And.. the last thing that happened before John went godtier, was a choice. Given to him by Vriska, who for the first time decided to step back and let him decide what to do on his own. Whether or not she would have owned up to what she said about letting him decide how to fall asleep, he still made the choice and went with it on is own. So maybe that’s got something to do with it.

Or maybe I’m just an idiot.

ROXY: (well you know what thats cool) ROXY: (u do u) ROXY: (besides) ROXY: (hopefully there wont be any more reason for you to wreck shit)

GOddammit stop saying shit like that

KANAYA: (That Would Be Ideal I Suppose) KANAYA: (However It Is Always Wise To Be Prepared) KANAYA: (Just In Case) ROXY: (ofc!) ROXY: (and hey) ROXY: (just cuz we won the game doesnt mean there wont be any more opportunities to like) ROXY: (explore yourself and your aspect) ROXY: (our cool powers are too friggin handy for them to just stop bein relevant once we walk thru a magic door)

SPeaking of which, can THEY HURRY UP AND WALK THROUGH THE MAGIC FUCKING DOOR YET IM GETTING ANXIOUS.

ROXY: (maybe someday youll get the chance to blitz ur chakras and get spacey w it) ROXY: (and itll be at your own pace instead of having to rush it for the sake of fixing some giant spacetastrophe) KANAYA: (That Does Sound Nice)

YES IT DOES NOW HURRY UP THROUGH THE DOOR SO THAT BECOMES A REALITY COME THE FUCK ON JOHN

KANAYA: (Considering Right Now I Am Very Unsure Of How To Even Begin Blitzing Those Particular Chakras) ROXY: (i bet u can ask john) ROXY: (hes rly good at givin advice for stuff like that)

YES HE IS BUT HE ISNT GOOD AT OPENING DOORS AAAAA

ROXY: (tho he probably doesnt even know it pffff) KANAYA: (You Are Also Very Good At Giving Advice) KANAYA: (That Was Not Necessarily A Request I Simply Thought I Should Point That Out) ROXY: (TOO BAD youre gettin some anyway ;P) ROXY: (rly tho ive hardly even begun to wrestle my voidy powers into submission) ROXY: (still got a loooooong way to go on that front) ROXY: (but thus far most of my blitzing has just been like) ROXY: (being around the thing) ROXY: (and letting myself embrace this like) ROXY: (natural synergy i got going w it) KANAYA: (When You Say) KANAYA: (The Thing) KANAYA: (Do You Mean Nothing) KANAYA: (Considering Your Aspect Presides Over Literal Nothingness)

Yes Kanaya, this is exactly what she means.

ROXY: (pffft) ROXY: (yes thats what i mean :p) KANAYA: (Okay I Was Just Attempting To Clarify) KANAYA: (How Does One Surround Themselves With The Concept Of Nonexistence) ROXY: (i dunno!) ROXY: (when u put it that way it does sound pretty mind bending) ROXY: (i guess ive just been lucky?) ROXY: (or maybe the nothing is naturally attracted to me and lucks got nothin to do w it)

WELL YEAh, what isnt naturally attracted to you? Guys i just really love roxy help

ROXY: (but yeah i got that voidy ring @ one point) ROXY: (and when john started getting to fixing the timeline he took me to a place that felt like) ROXY: (the nothingest nothing to ever unexist) KANAYA: (That Sounds Interesting) KANAYA: (What Was It Like)

Probably nothing.

THATS a cool panel right there.

ROXY: (well it was) ROXY: (white) ROXY: (but not pure white) ROXY: (just slightly off) ROXY: (and) ROXY: (it was super vast) ROXY: (but not like regular outer space where you can actually see stuff like stars stretch on and on til you cant see it anymore) ROXY: (which at least gives u a sense of distance) ROXY: (but instead it was almost claustrophobic) ROXY: (cuz there was nothing there) ROXY: (you and all the other somethings just completely enveloped by a shrink wrap o absence)

HUmm.. thats pretty interesting to say the least. Not really sure what to think of it though! Just pretty nifty.

KANAYA: (Hmmmm) ROXY: (never really tried putting this into words) ROXY: (i think the thing about it was that the void sort of) ROXY: (changed) ROXY: (depending on how i chose to perceive it) ROXY: (cause the whole point is that its kinda like) ROXY: (idk) ROXY: (maybe a little like binary) KANAYA: (Binary?)

too bad sollux is dead he’d get a kick outta this.

did anybody make this connection. computer hacker guy who likes two’s. Binary. man. i feel like everybody did.

ROXY: (yknow binary) ROXY: (computer language) ROXY: (0011101100101001)

TRANSLATOr HELP

“;)“

omfg she just winked in binary.

KANAYA: (Oh That) ROXY: (the way that works is basically) ROXY: (you have a bit) ROXY: (like a computery bit) ROXY: (and it can say either 0 or 1) ROXY: (and dependin on which it is the computer displays the info differently) ROXY: (but the void is like a completely blank bit) ROXY: (there isnt a 0 or a 1 written on the bit yet but thats all were programmed to understand yknow) ROXY: (like 0 is technically nothing but whats important is that theres something there for you to see) ROXY: (but what im gettin at is that really void is just blank space waiting to be written on) ROXY: (by somebody like yours truly) ROXY: (im the computer and youre the person reading the display)

Oh. That’s pretty cool and shit. 

OH shes gettin all magicky here

ROXY: (and my whole voidy thing) ROXY: (is that i gotta figure out the code for whatever i wanna make exist) ROXY: (and write it on the blank bits) ROXY: (then) ROXY: (i snatch em outta the void!)

Oh AGAIN. YEAh, roxys power seems a lot cooler now.

ROXY: (yoink!!!)

*gasp*

nice lipstick yo

Kanaya is so fucking cute oml. She looks kinda dumbfounded by this lipstick.

KANAYA: (Wow) KANAYA: (That Was Really Quite Insightful Roxy) KANAYA: (I Think I Am Already Beginning To Understand Things Better) KANAYA: (But What Is This) ROXY: (p sure its lipstick!) ROXY: (and its 4 u) ROXY: (i dont rly know if pinks ur color but) ROXY: (here it is anyway!)

Oh god help me im already starting to ship it.

KANAYA: (Another Gift) KANAYA: (Why) ROXY: (daaaaw i dunno) ROXY: (i mean its actually kinda cool i was able to make this at all) ROXY: (i bet it must be bc of you somehow) ROXY: (you like lipstick right?) KANAYA: (Yes) ROXY: (i dont know if this is just me but i bet this is totes a thing w space players) ROXY: (like i get the vibe that u guys r more in touch with the objects around you) ROXY: (specially the ones thatre important to you) KANAYA: (I Suppose...)

HMm.. Interesting bit of aspect analysis. That could possibly be a thing.

ROXY: (well?) ROXY: (ru gonna take it or what) KANAYA: (I Really Cant Accept This) KANAYA: (I Was Attempting To Alleviate The Debt Of Gratitude I Have Already Been Accumulating Towards You) KANAYA: (A Measly Thank You Is Hardly Enough) KANAYA: (And Yet You Present Me With Even More To Be Thankful For)

COme on Kanaya dont be like that. Just take the thing and be hAPPY! you dont gotta prove yourself for a gift.

ROXY: (man thats not how this works) ROXY: (you dont owe me nothin) ROXY: (but heck if it makes u feel better) ROXY: (the space egg wasnt rly 4 u it was 4 all the little trollings that need to be born) ROXY: (skewering the batterwitch was definitely 4 me and earth and stuff) ROXY: (and the lipstick is to thank u for takin such good care of my mom :D)

Dont you mean your Rose?

KANAYA: (... That Does Make Me Feel Slightly Better) ROXY: (so youll take it??) KANAYA: (Okay) ROXY: (hella) KANAYA: (Thank You) KANAYA: (Again) ROXY: (dont mention it!)

She will likely mention this many times.

WEll that was the end for their interaction I suppose, so it seems like we get one page of another interaction then? I guess Dirk and Jake.

Ohp, yep. Jeez they look awkward.

DIRK: (... So.) JAKE: (...) DIRK: (...) DIRK: (That was some fight, huh.)

Goddammit this is awkward. 

JAKE: (Oh yes that sure was a doozy of a brawl we all just participated in.) JAKE: (Or rather multiple brawls.) DIRK: (I think you’re probably up to speed on exactly how well mine went.) JAKE: (Um.) JAKE: (Should i be?) DIRK: (Nevermind.)

Just another beheading of good ol’ Dirk. Seems like that’s a common thing for him. 

((OhOFOHSANSIJFN  HOLY SHIT I PRESSED A BUTTON AND FOR A SECOND I THOUGHT I ALMOST DELETED EVERYTHING I WROTE DAMMIT TUMBLR GIVE ME WARNINGS))

JAKE: (Sorry... its just difficult to, uh...) DIRK: (Don’t be sorry. It doesn’t actually matter.) JAKE: (The important part is you won right?) DIRK: (Yeah...) DIRK: (How did yours go?) DIRK: (If you feel like sharing, that is.) JAKE: (Oh i won too!) DIRK: (Well. Obviously.) DIRK: (I meant... like.) DIRK: (Specifically, HOW you won.) DIRK: (I’d be down to hear some details of all the kickassery you've been dishing out.) DIRK: (That must've been pretty crazy solo.)

Come ONNNN guys, quit dancing around the topic here. Somethings bothering you and its making everything shitty.

JAKE: (Oh.) JAKE: (Well i wasnt alone for long actually.) JAKE: (In fact it was quite the clusterfuck of skeletons sprites and green goblin brutes!) JAKE: (That crabby troll fellow even showed up at one point.) JAKE: (He seemed to be having a difficult time with one of the tinier rascals but i was up to my ears in fracas and fisticuffs myself and couldnt really lend him a hand.)

Dammit Karkat. I love him, but god he’s adorably pathetic in fights.

DIRK: (It looks like he’s alright, so no harm done.) DIRK: (How many of those green dudes were there again?) JAKE: (Im fairly certain there were 14.) DIRK: (And you trounced all of them?) JAKE: (Actually k...carat dealt with one of them i think.) JAKE: (They were small but a decidedly tricky foe. It was scurrying around so fast i dont think a single one of my bullets even grazed it!)

He has ALLLL the luck Jake, ALL of it!  Honestly, can we get a Vriska/Clover battle?

DIRK: (Well, shit. Sounds tough.) DIRK: (Still, my score reads "Jake: 13, Goblins: 0".) DIRK: (Oh, and I’m pretty sure the name you’re looking for is Karkat.) JAKE: (Is that so?) DIRK: (Yup.) JAKE: (My mistake then...) DIRK: (Don’t worry about it.)

Dammit Jake, don’t be so fucking hard on yourself. I feel bad for him now. Like, he’s beating himself up over not knowing a complete strangers name.

JAKE: (Have you spoken to him at all yet?) DIRK: (Nah.) JAKE: (Would you like to?) DIRK: (I guess? Sure.) DIRK: (He and Dave seem to be in the middle of something, though. No point in interrupting.) DIRK: (Besides, I’m talking to you right now.) JAKE: (...) DIRK: (...)

(...)

Alright dammit, I guess we’ll see if they get over whatever’s bugging them in the next update, because that’s the last page. Seeya next time and whatnot folks.

[kindestegg]

hey

im no good with making posts that r supposed 2 go out 2 a wide audience, that i want 2 be noticed bc they should be noticed, but ill go ahead. heres 2 everyone who, in this valentines day (if it is valentines day in ur country) is lonely n wishing for a significant other, who had a break up theyre still recovering from, who was or is still currently a victim of abuse, who had to put up with discovering their significant other wasnt rly a good person, who felt cheated, betrayed, all of u.

all of u people whose valentines stories arent happy n feel sad in this day, i just want u all 2 know that, u r so very strong, n that its never 2 late for u 2 find love. love is everywhere, i know u may feel like its not n that its hopeless- but believe me, it is everywhere. u will find someone who truly loves n cares for u. maybe ull become lovers or ull just stay friends, but whatever happens, love does exist, kindness does exist. people r capable of doing good things for others n sticking by them, showing them care throughout all the days. someday, u will find the happiness that comes w that, n u wont feel lonely or hurt anymore- at least, not so much as u r now. one day ull have someone who will be proud 2 be with u on this very same day of the year.

n 2 everyone who is in a happy relationship? keep it up, my biggest advice is- be honest with each other. if u let each other know how u feel, the chances that ull fight n ur relationship may trip n fall will be decreased immensely. be patient, try 2 take a step back when u r angry n hold urself down, ask urself why u feel that way. discuss things openly, n above all, be good 2 each other, be kind. remember, they r ur partner, n if u chose them, then u must treat them w care.

in the end, itll be ok. ull be ok. happy valentines, dears. <3

[jem-2096]

Neighbour - part 4

(Marleys POV)

I shut the door to my bedroom and offered him a seat on my bed beside me. I took a deep breath calming the nerves in my belly and let out a sigh. He looked up at me opening his mouth and closing it several times trying to come up with the right words to say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and Im sorry that you found out the way you did. I was meaning to tell you…I really was. Every opportunity I got, you talked of us spending the summer together and I felt that I was going to crush you if I told you.” He said distraughtly looking away. “Then why didn’t you answer my texts or calls? Why didn’t you run after me and apologize before you left?” I blurted out with slight anger. “Hey! I did answer your texts but you never responded…” He stated, throwing his face in his hands and laying back on my bed in frustration. I stood up digging through my bedside table and dropped my old, still leaky phone on his chest making him sit upright quickly. He chuckled shaking his head in disbelief. “It fell in the pool the day you sent me a message..” I whispered shyly, scooting closer to him. “I was so stupid…. ” he barley whispered looking down at the waterlogged phone in his large hands. “I thought you would need some space the first few days.. I didn’t think of it as a bad thing until I realized that you needed me, like I needed you when me I broke up with Vicky.“ I took his shakey hand in mine and gave it a small squeeze. “I realized how hurt you were by it later and what I would feel like if it was the other way round.” He spoke sadly. “I wish I could have a do over…I wish I could do over this whole summer. I just have so many regrets. I felt so awful after I thought you gave up and started ignoring me.” His voice began to shake, becoming more choked up as he spoke. “I felt sick and just horrible that I could have just lost my best friend…” he began. I suddenly sensed my heart drop at those words and I could see his eyes were beginning to water which made it even worse. I gave up holding back my true feelings and wrapped my arms around his waist pulling him in. He instantly buried his head into the crook of my neck letting out a small sob. “Hey..Lu.. it’s okay, I’m here.” I whispered into his ear. 

I rubbed his back trying to calm him down. He held me closer as if he was going to lose me if I let go. I was surprised by how his feelings were so wound up in this and realized how much he must care for me. He’s usually not the type of person to talk about or begin to think of articulating his feelings. I rarely ever saw him cry like this when we were growing up so I was in a state of shock. He pulled away looking into my eyes. “I’m so sorry Lee…” he whispered genuinely. My stomach did flips; mainly because of the name he had called me. No one ever called me that besides him and I haven’t heard him use it in years. He wrapped his arms around my body again pulling me in for comfort. We sat like that for a while and I rubbed his back again. I wanted to grab his face and kiss him so badly but I decided it wasn’t the right moment to dump all my feelings on him. I took his hand in mine giving it a reasuring squeeze. “You know I forgive you no matter what happens. Your my best friend Lu..” He shook his head. “I dont deserve to be forgiven-” he grunted pulling away and plopping on the floor, leaning his back against the bed frame. He began mumbling incoherant sentences as he began to cry into his hands. I slid down beside him, wraping my arms around his shoulder pulling him closer as he cried into my chest. “Listen to me. Please Luke. The people who surround us, help shape us into the people we are. I may sound crazy right now.. ” My breath hitched as I began to feel tears brimming. “..but thank you for making me struggle and for giving me a hard time this summer.” He looked up at me as if I had three heads. “So..your not mad at me? And your letting me off the hook? -why?” He asked curiously. “I’ve had a lot of time to myself this summer and I found that without you leaving, I wouldn’t have been able to find true happiness within myself.. ” I gave him a light peck on the cheek. “Try to focus on the here and now and try not to dwell so much on what has happened.” I whispered only loud enough for him to hear as I played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Lu..are you okay to go out there again?” I asked curiously. He looked up at me and quickly gained composure, nodding. “Better than ever!” He smirked, eyes still red and puffy. “Not so believable.. lets give it a few more minutes.. yeah?” I joked giving his shoulder a nudge.

.

When we came outside, our dads were standing at the bbq, grilling up burgers and hotdogs. My mouth salivated at the smell. “Hey you two! We’ll be eating in under an hour!” My dad said. We nodded and walked towards the pool, jokingly complaining about our hunger. I squinted up at the giant that stood beside me who was just blocking the sun. “Wanna swim?” I asked curiously, noticing the other boys had left. He threw his shirt off and waddled over to the pool. "It’s freezing!“ He whined dramatically dipping his toe in. I giggled pulling my oversized t shirt off and went to the pool ledge to dip my toe in the water. "You liar-” I felt his arms wrap around my waist as he threw us into the pool making a giant splash. 

I saw him push off the bottom as I gulped down water and flailed my arms. I watched him swim toward me. He grabbed my waist and pulled us up to the surface. I coughed trying to clear my airway. My nose burned from once being filled with water and I felt my bikini top was loose. “Marley, are you okay?” He asked concerned while carrying me to the shallow end so I could stand. I nodded through my cough attack. His eyes widened, and immediately took the strings of my top turned me around to tie back up my bathing suit that was slowly falling down. My cheeks started to burn with embarrassment. “It’s okay Marley, I don’t think anyone saw your nip slip.” He whispered smirking. 

I crossed my arms over my chest and started to get out of the pool, not feeling in the mood for any more swimming. He tugged my arm and dragged me back to him. I turned around to see our parents faced toward the house at the bbq and sitting on the patio. I let out a sigh of relief and doggy paddled over to Luke. My cheeks turned rosey when I looked at him and I hid my face. “Marley, quit hiding, I can see you…” he spoke softly. “I’m not hiding, I’m embarrassed Lu…” I mumbled through my hands. He let out a sigh. “Lee, look at me.” He whispered. I slowly took my hands away from my face and looked up at him into his blue pools. “Look… You saw me bawling my eyes out not even a half hour ago. I think were even. You can even see my man boobs if itll make you feel better.” He said squishing them together. “I’m self conscious about them..” he said jokingly. I giggled. “They are a little perky…” I joked back, flicking his nipple. His face fell and he sunk deeper into the water. “Luuuuuke..! You don’t have man boobs. I honestly like your chest.” I spoke trying to compromise with him. A small smile crept up on his face. “Wish I could say the same without sounding like a perve…” I thought I heard him quietly mumble to himself as I began to swim away. My heart did a small flip. I drifted off to the other side and grabbed a beach ball in the pool and threw it towards him. We played catch and goofed around until dinner was called. 

Luke’s pov

After dinner I went home to shower and get changed before going back over to Marley’s. While I was in the shower, I thought about how awesome it was to see her and sort things out today even though I cried infront of her. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. The way she handled everything today was way better than I had expected. She also told me not to dwell on my past mistakes which I will take note of for later. But now we’re back to talking and being friends and I have hope that someday she might be mine. I guess I never thought of her that way until I couldn’t hug or hold her anymore because it would be considered cheating by my crazy, controlling ex girlfriend. I realized she wasn’t mine and could become somebody else’s and I took note of it.

Maybe im maturing myself. I was able to open up and tell her how legitamaltey feel without having to hide certian feelings to protect my masculinity. With her I can just be me. Before I left, my mom commented on my mood and said I looked better. I told her I felt better as well.

Marley came to the front hallway, after hearing her dog Finn blowing my cover by whinning for me to play with him. She was wearing a familliar sweatshirt and pajama shorts. She looked so effortlessly beautiful without makeup and her wavy long mop of hair cascading down her shoulders. She said she was rushed a little and I looked really nice. We watched cartoons on the sofa in her basement and played a few card games. I let her win a round becuase she wasnt the best at crazy 8s. Her happy dance was too fricken cute. I think she caught me staring once or twice. Woops. We do flirt a little sometimes, but nothing serious in my opinion. She left to go to the bathroom and came back swaddled up in a blanket with her teeth chattering, complaining that the basement was freezing. I wanted to cuddle with her so badly and hold her in my arms. I noticed her inch closer and closer to me every few minutes until we quit playing card games all together and she was resting her head on my lap, tucked up in the fettle position. After all she was really cold.  I mean I think she was doing this in a friendly way. We are just best friends.. right?

[mc-jarhead]

I asked you once.. while you were asleep.. will you still love me tomorrow? In your hesitation i found my answer. But when you woke, you answered me again yet with an “i love you” instead. There, i found out that questions should only be asked to the conscious and not the unconscious. Because who are we kidding, we’ll only break our own hearts if we lived asking unconscious beings for their truths in conscious lives. I remember a thing you told me, it was “I’ll love you to the moon and back”. Though i am in the stars, that wasnt enough for me. So i steadily search for a love thatll find me in the constellations where i reside. Beyond overthinking and doubt. Amongst overwhelming love and incredible thoughts. This is the part where i could say i miss you but perhaps its also the part where i say i missed you. As in, i mustve overshot my target and landed somewhere i didnt think to land. Someday i shall know which is which. But for now ill keep it a secret. Between me and the reader. If i did miss you, id start from the beginning and tell you how much of my life you have missed out on. And then id get a bit furious because you missed out on so much that i wouldnt know whether to enjoy the moment we have now or to throw it all away. The way youve thrown away all the years we couldve spent together instead of apart. And if i missed and overshot you, then id say look how far we’ve come. After all that, we somehow survived to make it this far. But wait. There’s so much more ahead. Do you not think so far ahead? If you were asleep id ask you, what will love bring to me tomorrow? Because i know unconscious beings give great advice right before theyre conscious. If youre still lost right now. Then you musnt worry. Only fools know their path right to each and every detail. Its the people with the greatest minds that enjoy walking down a path of the unknown adventure. Thats how discoveries are made. By now, you must have concluded that im talking about dreamers and lovers. If youre one of the lucky ones to have met both in one person then id tell you to hold onto them as loosely as possible. Not tightly, because you cannot hold onto water tightly and expect to drink from it when you’re thirsty. You must give it a space to flourish so that more of it can come your way if it chooses to. Be kind, for water has memory. Itll shape the way you treat it so please be kind to it. I held onto a love and a dreamer tightly. So tight that i went mad every time it tried to free itsef loose from my grip. There i found my fault.. i should have known i was loving wrong but i couldnt bear to think of losing it. I had to keep it and keep it close to me at all times. If not then i felt as if it were being lost. But it was all driving me crazy. Crazy to the point of sanity. And in sanity i found love again. Though it wasnt mine anymore. It was an abundance of love and everyone had their choice to it. Ramblings of a lost lover.. youll be alive far longer than your soul will be on this earth if you fall in love with a writer.. She said to me that i was a writer but i was just spilling out every thought i had of her which i had not ever had before. Im not the modt educated person alive but when it comes to love i know its real when you start doing things youve never done before for a person you barely know. Barely know..... because how could you catch up on 30 years of life lived in those few moments you meet a person? Youd have to spend another 30 years just trying to catch up. So please my dear darlin’... dont be a fool. Enjoy the unknown adventure.. for who knows, we just might meet again. When?

[tumblunni]

The absolute kicker on a shit day

When the bus came along that was like 'hi i am going to cardiff faster so u dont have to wait two hours btw i am leaving in one minite' i fuckin SPRINTED back over to the stupid LAGGY AS FUCK ticket ordering machine and paid for THE FOURTH TICKET TO THE SAME DAMN PLACE again and I BOUGHT THE WRONG TICKET

Or to be specific the ticket machine is STUPID and doesnt actually let you choose what number bus you book your ticket for, you just enter the destination and it automatically decides the 'best route' according to shittu algorhythms and it put me AGAIN on the same wait two hours one i already had on my ticket. Aaaaaaa

But thankfully this bus driver was awesome and he let me on anyway THANK YOU EVERY FORCE IN THE UNIVERSE FOR FINALLY ENDING MY TORMENT OF BUSSY COACHTHING

What is even the difference between a coach and a bus exceot coaches are never on time and seem to be constantklly conspiring to kill you

Seriously i dunno how i havent had fifty heart attacks todau i think the only reason im still awake is cos im holding onto the last of panic adrenaline to stay awake unytil i get home and im smworrird im gonna jusymt EXPLODE at any minute

and my trousers are falling down from all the running around with five bags and i cant pull them up from this position in the coach seat

Other difference between bus and coach: coach says its 'comfy luxury' and is somehow worse than a regular bus in every way

Lso the damn seatbelts are too tight for even mediumly chubby people. I could just about squeeze into it on the way in but it choked. And now i have my coat on cos FREEZIBG RAINY DEATH COLD CRYING SHAKYNESS so im just goibg seatbeltless and kbowing my luck itll crash and everyonewill be fine except me who die

Man i know iys stupid and reckless but should i spend another £2 on a happy meal on the way back? Piokemon hapoy meal...

Or like that fancy £2 american soda... Just something to cheer men up but like i WANT to splurge on cheerups but i literally cant so this counts as splurge because logically i should just buy a million potatoes with my £2 and pretend that counts as groceries. But either way im hungry AF and have only 3 days ledt of electrocoty in my house so FUCK IT! I couldnt even eat those potatos when the leccy is out. Like even if i cook them all in mass now and freeze them i cant reheat them

Aaaaaauuugh

And i cant buy a commission :( fuck man i will just hold on to that idea of someday commission to keep me warm til the end of the month