#sometimes existence isn't just anxiety and dread to me

[the-dreadful-bard]

I have the habit of saying "beloved?" with a very perplexed look on my face as a way of expressing deep confusion, which came from a brazilian meme from way too long ago but has been ingrained in my psyche since then as a vocal stim. My therapist, who's AuDHD like me and also a butch lesbian (she's truly iconic), adopted that into her vocabulary and uses it whenever her wife does something questionable. Sometimes humans are such cute creatures, the fact that we take little pieces of each other's personalities and make it part of our own is so wholesome to me, I just love it.

[this-is-a-name-dont-worry]

things that seemed reoccurring this update:

- Meat

- peas

- jelly

- Hibernation

- Eddie's absence

- Acting out a script (Sally mumbling asking if it's her cue and Howdy changing the script of the narrator in Homewarming storybook, characters general interactions with the narrator, different moments in the video, like the Sally and Frank ad break or the song a barely silent night, where the two literally fight over who get to sing, Sally mentions she wrote the lyrics, and Frank says she already has a song. yeah all of these are easy to see as meta goofs in the original material, but it's the fact there's so much of it this update) (of course all this wrap up with the end of the video where Eddie and Frank are obviously acting off script)

- Being alone (Eddie not having any news of anyone and not even seeing anyone outside (which is interesting as the story says that Sally was up in a tree near his home and saw him fret over having nothing to do), Wally saying it's so quiet during Homewarming and it's just he and Home for a while (potentially the show putting out a christmas special and then being on break? can a show do that?), and in the normal website material, the end of "An ode to hibernation", Frank saying "Where all that's left is me", the "me" being a "...me?")

- Welcome Home being used to sell stuff (cigarettes, medicine, eggnog, cereals, and the cookbook lists ingredients that are a specific brand)

(I'm putting under read more my rambling thoughts so you can just reblog the list without having to see them)

so I can't really make sense yet of all the food stuff. Maybe there are cultural elements/expressions I don't know that explains it? But I still find it very interesting how fucking unhinged that cookbook is yet the commercial and the website treat it normally. The cookbook is overall extremely interesting, because some of the recipes seem to actually be written by the characters; Barnaby who only presents you weird hot dog dressings with pictures but no recipe (and all jokes), Frank who lists not just the ingredients but also the material, and overexplain each steps (at least overexplain compared to the other recipes. it's actually interesting to know why you do x or y), and Julie who turns her recipe into a game at the end, and felt a bit harder to follow? anyway.

The cookbook, the Homewarming tradition of hanging a ham in the tree, Santy Claus being said sometimes instead of Santa, the ham for Santa? Once again, the christmas commercials being so casual about some of the weird stuff it says and presents? This almost feels like an alien who only has a blurry grasp of Christmas and what humans enjoy made the cookbook and the live commercial.

Sometimes, Welcome Home feels like it never actually aired and produced things, but we're making it retroactively exist. Something is making it exist. Like a retcon of the universe, "What do you mean you never heard of Welcome Home? No, of course it always existed and was very popular, look at all this old material we find!"

So maybe whatever is making it exist doesn't fully get humans and accidentally creates things that are weird to prove its existence. Like a cookbook that tells you a single pea in a buttered plate is a classic meal, or that of course you give Santa ham on Homewarming! (tbh almost getting an AI weirdness feel)

But in total contrary, in its story, Welcome Home also feels like it always existed, but got somehow completely wiped from people's mind, as something caused its sudden stop, and its characters gained consciousness of what they are and their world. As an existential dread fell on them one after the other, slowly realizing something isn't right. As Eddie felt anxiety and nervousness over no one being there or contacting him, to then having the story acts lightheartedly about it, the narrator saying things have been solved but he doesn't feel it, and suddenly Home is staring at him.

Both "It never existed but the universe is being retcon into it existing" and "it existed but something terrible happened that erased it from peoples mind" seem plausible. If two theories contradict each other, that means there's a third one that needs to be found.

Maybe it existed. Maybe it truly was popular, but something corrupted it, leading to its disappearance. A disappearance so big it stopped to exist. And now the thing that corrupted it is trying to crawl back, make it exist again, but it's making it come back completely off.

Anyway.

Also, I think the show may have been on hold during the Holiday season, "hibernating", and the character who got some self awareness realized that something was off. They're alone because there's nothing new, so no one is there bringing life to the neighborhood.

[logogreffe]

In November of last year I decided that I was going to read a book a week. This was a weird challenge because I had been incapable of reading more than a page without my mind being distracted. I decided that this had to end. We're almost in December and I've read 55 books so far. So I wanted to tell you guys how I did it.

First, a few rules I've made up : - If I read two books during one week, I don't have to read and/or finish anything the following week. - This is not a race ! I'm basically aiming for 4 books a month more than 1 book a week. I've finished reading 3 books in June but finished reading 5 in July to "compensate". Some advices on how to get back into reading :

1. READ IN YOUR MOTHER LANGUAGE : Out of the 55 books I've read only 10 were in English, the rest were in French (my mother language). Listen, I know you're fluent in this and that but hear me out : I don't care. Think of your poor brain, with the attention span of a wooden spoon. Don't make it harder on yourself and read a book in your damn mother language !

2. LENGTH OF THE BOOKS You use to read 500-page books in a few days as a child / teenager ? Me too, but again, you wouldn't join a marathon right now just because you did one 10 years ago, you have to start slowly. So avoid dense books when you start (aim between 10 and 300 pages, not above for now).

3. UNTOUCHED PILE OF BOOKS For the love of the universe, don't even look at that pile of books next to your bed or in your living room. It doesn't exist, okay ? You could not read them before, you will not suddenly be able to read them now. You're not ready for this.

4. LIBRARY But If I can't look at the pile of untouched books in my home, what do I do ? You go to your local library (hopefully you have access to it) and what you're going to do is simple : you're not going to meticulously pick one book, no no you're going to walk around and take 4-5 books with you. Why ? Because this isn't a punishment, you have to enjoy your reading experience. Which brings me to my next point...

5. LETTING GO Something that I found hard at first and that I still struggle with : if a book doesn't interest you YOU CLOSE IT AND YOU TAKE ANOTHER ONE. Same thing if you realize the content is just too much for you, YOU CLOSE THE BOOK AND YOU TAKE ANOTHER ONE. Personally, I really wanted to read "Little Life" by Hanya Yanagihara. I couldn't do it, it was too much. I almost dreaded opening the book, so I put it aside. One day I'll read it, or maybe not, and that's okay. No one is going to punish you for not finishing a book, nobody cares (this is not highschool). That's why I take 5 books each time I go to the library. Sometimes I'm lucky, and every book is great, sometimes only one of them is okay. You've read 100 pages already and don't feel like continuing ? No one cares, close the book !!! Once I've started doing that I felt so much better, no more pressure to quickly finish a book I didn't actually enjoy.

6. NONFICTION Don't read nonfiction at first. Some of you might have attention span issues, some might have anxiety, depression, trouble sleeping making it all impossible to stay focus on a book : don't make it harder on yourself by reading nonfiction, it has to be a pleasurable experience. Reading about water pollution isn't going to put you in the mood to read (or to sleep better for that matter (Trust me, I've tried it)). So please fiction only : fantasy, adventures, dragons, romance, something light !

7. STUPID BOOKS Something light ? Well, the first books I've read were almost exclusively out of the teenagers/young adults section. Listen, I know some of you are not teenagers or (according to google) not even the target audience for the "young adult section" BUT those books are easy to read and some of them are quite enjoyable even for an "older" person. For example, the third book I've read was "L'année de Grace" (The Grace Year) by Kim Liggett and I enjoyed it a lot. Some of the books I've read were not winning literature prize kind of books and some were meant for teenagers and you know what ? I don't care, some were so bad that they made me laugh out loud, sending screenshots of awful dialogues to my friends. I've enjoyed reading them and that's all that matters ! I've read a book called "A connecticut Fashonista in King Arthur's court" by Marianna Mancusi , and let me tell you, it was stupid, so stupid that I couldn't wait to get home to see what else would happen. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone, but I still really loved reading it.

8. THEATER PLAY -> Short / funny / well written, go for it. I've read Corneille, Edmond Rostand, Marivaux, Cocteau. You could finish some of them in an hour !

9. TIME Now, one thing I have to concede is that reading takes time and I'm not a student AND I have a non brain-frying stable job, so I do have some time on my hands. Some of you might not have said time, BUT some of you also spend a lot of time on your phones. I've found myself gravitating toward a book more than my phone once I found good books to read. I used to watch tv-shows and youtube videos a lot, but I've slowed down since I started reading more (it's even starting to become a problem because I'm not hearing my target languages as much as I used to). 10. CONCLUSION SO FAR I still struggle to read non-fiction for more than 5 minutes, and unfortunately the majority of the untouched books in my living room are not cute adventure stories...However, while on holiday, I've read an 800-page novel in 3 days like I used to do while I was a teenager, and it made me feel really happy. 11. FINAL WORDS OF ADVICE : Reading is great BUT some of you are too stressed/anxious/in the middle of your studies, so don't even think of starting this kind of challenge. Relax, go to bed, go walk in the sun, have fun with your friends, take care of yourself. I used to be so angry at myself for not being able to read, but now I realize that I was in a very stressful moment in my life and I think my brain just wanted me to relax. Forcing myself to read 10-25 pages a day was only hurting me in the end. Only when my situation got much better did I even think of starting this challenge. While I don't think I said anything that you guys have heard before, I hope it can still be of some help to some of you !

[wraith-caller]

I don't write Rogier as a total manslut to titillate and be horny on main. I write him that way for one, to be another way he's an opposite to darian, which is just a personal interest of mine lol. But for two, because hypersexuality as a trauma response for him simply made sense to me.

I saw his emotional detachment and general disinterest in bonding with others intimately, and thought 'that guy's got a void in him.' I saw his single minded obsession with his research, and thought 'that guy's gonna fill that void with everything but difficult self-reflection and confrontation of why that void exists to begin with'. It'd be a challenging thing to do even in our modern world of medication and therapy, so I can't imagine him sitting down with someone and talking it out. And he simply doesn't work that way to begin with. When he goes to sleep with Fia, he doesn't break down crying about his own problems. He cries over an unsolved conspiracy that he's obsessed with, because he's not going to puke up his feelings directly. He didn't seek her out for emotional intimacy and healing, because he is much more interested in denying he has much of an emotional state to begin with. Emotional detachment is not 'I feel a bit numb sometimes', or 'I have some angst issues and have trouble talking about my emotional state, but I'd be pleased to help you out with your emotional problems :)' It's alarm bells and dread going off when someone tries to get 'deep' with you. It's your heart rate spiking at the thought of someone confiding intimately in you. It's disgust with your own emotions, if you can even identify them to begin with. It's being asked how you feel and defaulting to a pleasant response and breaking down if someone acknowledges your horrible feelings for you because that is NOT normal. Normal for you is ignoring all of that icky, uncomfortable stuff. Normal for you is laughing nervously and hoping the conversation moves away from talk about everyone's feelings, because you have no idea how to handle that. So if someone is going to bury and deny the emotional, they're going to seek the comforts and outlets for feelings that would normally come from such intimacy via other means. They're poor substitutes, but they don't come with that anxiety over trying to grapple with something you simply do not and never have had the mental capacity to deal with. You get the dopamine hits and relief from stress using these purely physical indulgences. Good food, booze, casual sex, whatever works, because without it that void in you where intimate connections and healthy introspection should be yawns, and yawns, and yawns, until you're sure it's going to swallow you whole. Better fill it with something, or there's not going to be much of you left that isn't a miserable husk.

[ssnowjo]

(Dropping a little rant; feel free to scroll if this isn't for you. I should be sleeping but whatever.)

When I first became a fan of Joseph back in 2022, I was genuinely rooting for him. I was thrilled when he was cast in AQPDO and Gladiator II,even if those weren't the types of movies I usually enjoy. I wasn't as enthusiastic about FF, since I always felt he had more potential in indie or independent films. Still, I was ready to support him because I was a true fan. There’s a little story I’ve never shared before (but maybe some of you will relate to it before everything with the DC stuff unfolded).

Like many women, I've had my share of terrifying experiences with men, many of which happened when I was a minor, being chased by older men, catcalled, and even touched inappropriately on public transport. These moments left me with social anxiety that only worsened after high school. I wouldn’t leave the house unless I was sure I’d be accompanied by someone I trusted. The idea of going out alone was terrifying. I canceled plans often and sometimes felt ashamed for being “an adult” who was too anxious to leave her own home.

Then, when I became a fan of Joe, I saw photos and videos of him walking around London. I know this may sound silly, but I thought to myself, “He looks so confident. He doesn’t seem to care about walking alone. I want to be like that.” A few weeks later, I worked up the courage to go outside by myself, no friends, no one, just me. It was incredibly scary, but I did it. I even laughed a little, thinking that I did it just because I wanted to seem as cool and carefree as Joe.

I always thought he’d be the type of person who might understand a struggle like that. But after seeing who he chose to date, I can't help but feel disheartened. It makes me wonder if he would laugh at my struggles alongside Doja. It stings and makes me feel a bit insecure, even though I know deep down I was never going to meet him. Yet, the thought that people like him and Doja exist, and that I could cross paths with people who share their mindset, fills me with dread.

This might sound ridiculous to some, but for many years, being a fan provided a sense of safety. I truly believed it would be the same with Joe, I was happy to be a part of his fandom for the past two years. Now I realise that there isn’t any real “safe place” in celebrity culture. It saddens me deeply that people with money, fame, and status often get away with so much. Selfish people who hurt others continue to thrive, while the rest of us have to endure and “just deal with it” because that’s how the world works.

What makes it worse is knowing that, in the end, he really doesn’t care,his fans don’t care, the industry doesn’t care. As long as he and Doja bring in money, they’ll keep thriving. And even if their moment in the spotlight fades, they’ve already secured enough to live comfortably forever.

If they’re still happily together or just hooking up or whatever I just find it so disappointing and disgusting.

I’m just tired, man.

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

Hello! If you don't mind, this is half a vent and half an ask both to you and to your followers who have had some experience?

I feel like I want certain aspects of a romantic relationship, the idea of having someone "special" is very appealing. Especially since I find myself falling in the trap of romance tropes, and I really do feel that I want to find that one person who I'd feel safe being physically close with, and not just because I turn my brain off to suffer through it but to actually enjoy it.

I know that I'm rather attracted to men, in theory at least, but whenever there's even remotely a thought in my brain that a polite conversation may turn into something more I get nervous, kinda in a bad way. I feel like I want to put a barrier in and I'm afraid they'll be reading into my behaviour too much. It makes me feel as if I like to play pretend in my head but I'm too much of a coward when real life gets involved.

I've been identifying as ace for years now, and I just turned 24. No experience in the dating department, I've been slowly making my way to accepting being at least arospec as well, possibly just aro, but for some reason it's been so much harder for me. Asexuality just clicked. This I think I may be fighting because the idea of a relationship seems too nice to give up and I've already had a bad experience with an extremely undernegotiated QPR (ended quickly but left a bitter taste nevertheless).

I just wish I could not think about it? But I also feel like the societal expectations of romantic attraction are much more pressing than sexual one. I don't want to lead anyone on, and I don't want to feel this little bit of dread whenever I have a conversation with a guy who I know doesn't have a girlfriend. That's another sign of being aro, right? Being able to be comfortable only when the possibility of the other party wanting you romantically is non-existent.

Sorry for this being so long. Thank you for listening, either way.

Romance definitely has a hard to explain quality to it, and I think that can make it questioning if you're aro especially tricky. It is possible that anxiety you're feeling when a situation could turn romantic is a form of repulsion. It's not uncommon for romance repulsion to feel more like anxiety or nervousness, and for people feel like wanting to go and hide. Alloromantic people can be nervous too sometimes, but it usually comes with a feeling of anticipation and still being drawn to the other person. Or they will usually have either trouble with anxiety in other areas, or issues with romance (romance related trauma for example). Sometimes it can be tricky to know exactly what it is, but if the stuff below doesn't sound like you at all, than repulsion is a likely explanation.

The other thing I would point is that fully alloromantic people often have people in real life they are experience a romantic pull towards, who they really want to be in a romantic relationship with. And if you're not experiencing that, that could also be a strong sign of being aromantic.

Being aromantic, and even romance repulsed, if you are, does not mean you can't have a very important person in your life. I know you mentioned a QPR that didn't go well, and it's up to you if that's something you ever want to try again, but even if you don't. remember that deep bonds can come in all forms of relationships. All types of relationships, including friendships, familial relationships, etc. have the potential to be very special of very deep if you end up connecting to someone in the right way. So whatever path you choose to take, don't feel like this isn't possible.

I'll throw this out followers too if anyone wants to share their own thoughts or advice.

All the best, Anon! Good luck!

[saltpillarlicker]

the camarilla should be bad guys. this isn't an original take, but it's one i hold pretty strongly, and it's a pretty core design ethos of the game i gm.

as presented, the camarilla is a beautiful elite. it's run by ventrue for the most part, who, while rich, privileged and callous, are often shown to be true believers in the sect. the camarilla is the last tide of defense against violent, depraved extremists like the sabbat, and while some anarchs might hold moral superiority, come on, do they really have a chance? the camarilla might not be the best, as presented, but it's the best we've got, so it's worth it, at least for the moment. right? i took a little bit of an issue with this. i've always thought vtm, for a game that purports to be punk, is a pretty status-quo-ey kind of game and setting, where the entrenched, openly exploitative establishment is shown to be the best chance against scary hordes (among other issues i have with it). so i decided to spin things a little.

in the game i run, the camarilla is nasty. not merely "bad because they're vampires," but nasty. in the city i run my game in, the camarilla is dreary, sterile, trashy, faceless, broken by design, run by and riddled with the absolute worst sorts of people, not merely repulsive morally but thoroughly tasteless, actually miserable to be around. the elite of the city are hideous, tacky, BMW-driving yuppie trash, the kind of people who hold immeasurable power but lock their doors when minorities walk by their car. they've got the delicate touch of a jackhammer; they swallow neighborhoods overnight and sic hit squads on the "squatters", seize their assets and rush clumsy through the liquidation so they can set up overpriced low-tier feeding grounds as quickly as they can, all while they lock down on feeding outside said grounds "for the safety of the masquerade". speaking of masquerade, they enforce that with their overbloated force of violent yes-men, who are set loose on undesirables and out-of-favor sect members, disappearing people and ripping out memories left and right - they're not efficient, or even effective, but they're not supposed to be; their only real job is to intimidate and browbeat the city. the sabbat is used like a tool; desperate sorts eking a living, selling out false-flagging and goon-squadding for the enemy just to get by - that is, when they're not the sickos, perverts and serial killers given the pass because they make a great excuse to scare the populace and justify further bloat of the camarilla's law enforcement.

the camarilla is exactly as i imagine it'd be, exactly the sort of system put in place by the sort of people who'd get embraced in the upper class of vampire society. it's the same sort of broken-by-design system that exists in the real world, in countless places across the globe. on the nose? yeah, sure. hell, i lean into it. there's a sick sort of undercurrent to see that undead society is broken just as bad as ours - even in death, you don't get to escape the bullshit. lord knows what i'd be doing if i was running wraith.

the camarilla are not the main villains of my campaign. it's hard to say there even is one singular villain, due to the setting-first way i design the campaign. but the camarilla is at the heart of vampire; it's the most important faction of the game, and all the other factions are informed by their opposition to it. so i had to go big and nasty with it, yeah? the tower's shadow looms hard. the anxiety it inflicts on my players is palpable at times, the we're-so-fucked stress that bubbles up whenever it comes up in conversation. it's a sleeping dragon that the players keep poking, and everyone - including me - is dreading the night when it actually gets up.

it's a nice change of pace from what the books put forth. try it sometime

[forestenjoyer]

tw leftist meme

this is more of a vent post than anything so be nice and bear with me. i was feeling down earlier so i did some writing to try to get my thoughts straight, and i wrote this.

Every time i feel down, i wonder what it that makes me feel this way. And there are many things. Is it species dysphoria? Sometimes. Is it fear of the future? fear of never living my one life the way i want to? Dread of the increasing amount of people who seemingly hate my kind? Fear for me and the people i love? Climate Anxiety? Loneliness? Yeah, sometimes. But sometimes I can't figure it out, and there is a thought in the back of my mind, and it never goes away. I try to tell myself that some days I'm just not feeling it, and thats true. But sometimes i get upset because i cant really disprove the thought. I'm scared of capitalism, and I'm scared of the way it poisons everything that i love.

When I first heard the thought, i was a social democrat, and it was easy for me to just tell myself that i was being ridiculous. but after time, the thought dawned on me, and everywhere i looked, i saw evidence.

Corporations exist to make a profit. They don't care about us being satisfied unless it's profitable to them. When they get influential enough, people begin to become dependent on them. Once this happens, they can gouge prices for more profit, as they are doing now. What will the government do? Nothing, because more often than not, they have an incentive to support the company. Perhaps the company is a donor, perhaps they are bribed, perhaps the obscene wealth makes them look good by some measurements, or perhaps they themselves are a CEO.

So, right. The government, who is allegedly supposed to take care of us, the people, isn't going to help, as it hasn't. So it's up to us, but say this company provides a vital service and is the only one who does so at any reasonable quality (Google), or has people addicted (Meta, McDonald's), or has so much variety and power that avoiding it is incredibly difficult (Disney, Nestle). If this is the case, which is is, it's very hard to boycott them.and those who advocate for change or participate in attempts to force change are mocked and taunted by bad actors and gullible folk. And by bad actors, I mean people who defend the company because they too own businesses. Landlords, local business owners, and so on. They are middle class twats who have never had to suffer the struggle of a normal person. And yet they LARP as us, calling themselves everyday hardworking folk, but actually own a business or an estate and have never had to confront the fears of tenancy, homelessness, poverty, and so on.

And i despise these people. They pretend to be us, and trivialise our struggle, saying lifes not that hard, and even call us elitists and entitled, and complain about us. And they manipulate and lie like this and act like they suffer while they collect rent from tenants after their third overseas holiday of the year.

And maybe you believe in reform. I did too. But do you ever find yourself asking 'How?' Do you ever grow weary of politicians throwing you and your movement under the bus? Or failing to fulfill their promises? Do you ever catch yourself thinking 'this is hopeless'? What do you do when you hear that, or when others tell you that? A reasonable person would take it in good faith, consider it, and try to find its flaws. And if you really knew that reform was possible, or realistic, you could explain why to yourself. I never could. I would joke around and throw insults because I couldn't argue with it, and everyone else did the same. I thought 'those stupid leftists are so foolish' and said it was ridiculous.

And thats why I caved, After all, if you cant see a way for peaceful protests and voting alone to bring change, and have watched it fail to over and over again, is it not reasonable to turn to the ideas that can give you answers, that being anarchism? The government cannot ignore a riot like it can ignore a peaceful protest. And if the government cannot and will not help us, we will have to help ourselves and each other.

And this is only a small part of it. I hate how it has ruined and weaponised science and strangled art. I hate how it destroys the environment. and i cant stand the way it does so with such self righteousness and entitlement

[catgirlkirigiri]

Can you believe this is the first digital ref Codebreaker's gotten since i made them 7 years ago. Insane. Also I ran out of room on the ref to note it but when they get super stressed out their glitches get worse and they get marks on their face and hands like Gaster has.

(For simplicity's sake I'm just going to be referring to them as Codebreaker and by they/them throughout this bio, but Codebreaker and Frisk can be used interchangeably as their name, and while they prefer they/them any other pronoun works just fine too. Also this got really long, you have been warned.)

Codebreaker is an outcode who barely managed to escape their universe as it imploded due to corruption. They're selectively mute, primarily using asl to communicate, though they do carry notebooks in case they have to talk with someone who doesn't know sign. They're dorky, kind, compassionate, a bit of a bleeding heart at times, and of course incredibly determined. Since the death of their universe, they've been plagued with guilt and anxiety. Their's primary motivation and role within the multiverse is to maintain the integrity of corrupt timelines and, worst come to worst, figure out how to safely evacuate the residents before their universes collapse just like Codebreaker's did.

As for how their universe ended... after completing what we know as a true pacifist run, Codebreaker decided to take one last walk through the entire underground to make sure everyone knew the barrier was broken. Though, on their way through Waterfall, something changed - that eerily empty hall they'd passed through before now contained a grey door. Curious as they are, they peeked inside, met face to face with a strange goopy skeleton-looking monster.

Codebreaker gets straight to the introductions - "Hi, I'm Frisk, yes I'm a human please don't fight me, also the barrier is broken" - but what remained of Gaster did not care to listen. He only wished to become whole again by any means necessary. Gaster attacks, aiming to take their soul to save himself. Codebreaker attempts to explain their way out of the battle, but with Gaster not even bothering to read their hands they had no choice but to run. Before they could get away, however, they did take a few hits. By the time they noticed the strange monster had left his mark on their soul, it was already far too late.

The residue of himself Gaster had left on their soul corrupted it, their determination, and by extension their SAVE file, turning their universe into a ticking time bomb. Over the short months before the world collapsed, they learned their corrupt soul granted them the ability to do magic and begged Toriel for lessons.

They eventually confided in Sans about the strange encounter, seeing as they were quite close to the skeleton, viewing him and Papyrus as the brothers they'd never had. That conversation lead them to the dreaded realization that their world was ending slowly and there was nothing that could be done to save it. Codebreaker did their best to reassure their friend, but it's not like there was a happy ending they could promise. This was it.

Sometime between then and their universe's collapse, Sans gave them one of his spare jackets. He didn't make a big deal of it, of course, but seeing as he no longer existed... it became a big deal posthumously.

The implosion of a universe isn't as dramatic as it sounds. There was no flashy explosion, no apocalyptic catastrophe. There was simply the world, and then there wasn't. In the void left behind by their universe's demise, Codebreaker was all that was left. They eventually found something in the darkness; a small, glowing light, so minor it wouldn't have been noticeable if anything else remained in the world.

Reaching for the light, they found themself outside their universe. They weren't sure how they knew that, it just sort of appeared in their brain; they were looking down at what had been their entire life, now just a dark void. And it wasn't just that - the dark, corrupted parts of their soul had completely disappeared, leaving gaps missing in their place. Upon checking themself over, they realized they'd lost 7 max hp from it, too. Small glitchy shapes hovered around them, and though they wouldn't realize it for a while, they'd gained the abilities to teleport and summon gaster blasters. This is also when their scleras turned black, and they started wearing their hair over their eyes to hide them.

Looking around, they were surrounded by other universes, each their own isolated existence, and they were overcome with a burning feeling they were so, so familiar with: determination. Determination to protect these worlds they'd never known of before from what they'd just gone through. Over time, the abyss of their universe calmed into a peaceful white void, where they would take anyone who had to witness their worlds fall apart.

[smokbeast]

Small anxiety rant to myself.

Sometimes(all the time) I hate how much I complain and whine or explain things. I try to stop but I get so furious and pent up over a situation or at myself end up spouting nonsense and I regret it immediately after, especially when I'm shit at tones and writing in English properly how I feel sometimes cause it's harder to type shit than speak it and then I see that I might have said something offensive or out of context without it making sense cause my voice isn't heard to really show how I mean tone wise. And no I don't use tone indicators I don't understand them either they confuse me more :(

I feel like really dum or like an idiot or annoying sometimes. I know my friends say I'm not and I love them for tolerating my endless rant and nonsense but god my brain ugngngng.. even when I'm just, talking a normal conversation and endless dread of regret fills my throat like I'm wasting someone's important time or I'm talking too much or I'm being too much or gngn idk I just feel guilty talking all the time and Existing skfkd, I'm cheery all the time and make fun of myself to try to make it ok but I still worry.

I wish I was less cringe in front of people lmao I'm sorry to anyone for the amount of things I say or do i will do my best to be better hhh

[karatechick1984-blog]

It's My Book, so my rules ::nefarious laughter::

Random, useless post to at least keep the bots from deactivating this account for inactivity. 😂

At the end of vacation so, every now and again the existential dread manages to break through my defenses. But I usually manage to beat the anxiety into submission and go about my day. But the imminent return to work has me grumbling from time to time.

What I want is to be an author who's well known, well liked and successful enough to live in comfort, ensure the comfort of my loved ones and then go about my day, writing, and people eating it up. I guess, if I'm being honest, I want the wealth without all the work 🤣.

I am a very lazy person. But I try hard not to be when it comes to my writing. And perhaps that's why it's been such a painful process. I've never pushed myself past the point of revising and editing a manuscript. Sure, I'll bring them to an illogical if somewhat satisfactory conclusion but after that, it goes up into the highest shelves of my mind palace, to gather so much dust.

The fact that I liked You'll Walk Alone enough to consider even editing it, to me, means something. I mean, Vampires, there will always be a huge market so a lot of competition. But if you manage to hit that sweet spot you could be successful. And I think the "niche" part of my Vampire novel, the thing that makes it different from others is that I'm trying to keep it as realistic as possible. It's Fantasy but at the same time, I want it to be somewhat believable fantasy.

"I know this is a drag show, but I want it to be a good drag show, and if possible, a great drag show, so if we could just continue..."

That's the line that goes through my head every single time I struggle with the "fantastical" parts of my Urban Fantasy. It may have Vampires in it, but I want it to feel like it could happen or be happening and us none the wiser. It's hard to do that when ya know, creatures that live off blood, never sleep, have superpowers and ya know, are dead, exist, cause shit like that doesn't actually happen in the real world. Thus, my struggle.

Then again, this book is my book. And it's entirely what I want or need it to be. So, on that note, I'm getting out of my own head and saying **ck the Shrimp" and just writing. I love the act of writing and thus, that is what I will do, instead of stressing over the fact that my fantasy novel isn't realistic enough.

I swear, sometimes...I don't know what to do with myself either. 😂🙌👌😊

[thehopefulhumanoid]

Universal Therapy Session

The therapist sat in her chair across from us, "Do you want to start by explaining what made you want to try therapy?"

"I guess I've been having some self-image problems. It's been a struggle for a long time so I thought I should see someone about it," the Universe spoke softly.

"What kind of self-image problems?" the therapist asked.

"I guess it's sort of a fear of the unknown, you know? There's so much about me I don't know and that's, I don't know, scary..." the Universe spoke with a tinge of anxiety building up in our voice.

The therapist looked at us for a second, clearly thinking of the right words to say. Then she goes on to say, "I think in this case, the best way to overcome that fear of the unknown is to confront it, and make the unknown, known."

We sat there, in silence. Unsure how to respond. The idea of confronting what's in us is dreadful.

"Can I ask you something?" The therapist's voice interrupting our thoughts. We nod our head. She continues, "Where did this fear of the unknown in yourself first begin? Was it always there?"

In that moment, we realize we had never thought of it before. It feels like it's always been there, and yet thinking about it, there might have been an origin. "I guess... it started sometime after people started calling us cruel and indifferent."

"People called you that?"

"Still do."

The therapist shifted in her seat. "Do you believe them?"

"I don't know... maybe!" the Universe snapped. The therapist stared at us.

"Yes, I do. I think they're right. So much awfulness happens and I just let it." The Universe said with helplessness in our voice.

The therapist chuckles slightly to herself.

"What?" We ask.

"Sorry, I just find it a little funny that you separate yourself from other people." The therapist said bluntly but sincerely.

We think for a second, "what do you mean?"

"You aren't separate from other people. You are them, and they are you," the therapist keeping her blunt tone, "You say that you just let awfulness happen, give me example."

"I... don't know...uh, a good person dies from an incurable disease!" Our voice becomes more frantic.

"Okay. Yes, that's awful." We stare at the therapist in disbelief but she continues, "But you aren't just that disease, you are also that good person, and you are all who loved them, and you are all those who comforted those closest to that person. Everyone and everything. You aren't all bad. And you aren't all good. That's the nature of existing."

We think for a long moment. Then we say, "Even if that's true... even if we are both good and bad, does the good out-weigh the bad?"

"Does that matter?" The therapist asks calmly.

"YES! IF THE GOOD DOESN'T OUT WEIGH THE BAD THEN WHAT'S THE POINT OF CONTINUING EXSITENCE? WHAT'S THE POINT IF EVERYONE JUST CONTINUES TO SUFFER?" We scream.

The therapist sits there, calmly. We settle down, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," the therapist maintains her composure, "And to answer your question, there isn't a point. It just is."

"So I don't have a choice, do I?"

"I'm sorry, Universe. I wish it was simpler for you."

We sit there in silence for the rest of the session. Sensing all that is all at once. Every rain fall, every ray of sun, every birth, every death. Every heartbreak, every blooming love. All of it. Letting us be just as we are.

[tods-void]

!!! THIS POST CONTAINS DEPRESSION VENTING OR WHATEVER THE FUCK IT'S CALLED, IF YOU CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT RIGHT NOW DON'T READ IT !!!

imagine being 27, a closeted queer, having clinical depression and no good friends in IRL distance to be able to alleviate the combination of existential dread and despair, along with soul-crushing loneliness. I also happen to live in a shithole country classified as a developing nation on the ass end of Europe and my university degree was in art, which makes my chances of finding a fulfilling stable job the equivalent of a coin toss where the "you win" side is made of lead. moving abroad isn't an option for money reasons and also try managing anxiety in a place where nobody knows or gives a shit about you and where you don't even have a roof over your head.

my desire to put out something creative into the world is the literal only thing that has kept me going for the last 5 years. I have absolutely nothing else tethering me to this wretched plain of existence. sometimes I question if that sole desire of mine is even worth how horrible existing feels for me. I'm under no illusion that the thing I want to create is some magnum opus that would change the world, I just wanted to share the fantasy escapist world I have in my head with other people because it's the only part of me I consider valuable.

tonight is one of those nights. if anyone chooses to read this, thanks. it means I'm not howling into the void.

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Nyctophobia (fear of the dark) // e.m x gn!reader

Summary: Eddie finds out that you're scared of the dark. You have a main nightlight, back-up fairylights, you need music too and you have a room circuit which must be completed or you cannot and will not sleep. Though you hide it well, all it takes is one careless moment to take you down. Lucky for you, Eddie is incredibly understanding, easily adaptable and immediately accepting.

Soft, fluff, self-indulgent (because yes, adults with nyctophobia exist and I refuse to be ashamed of it but sometimes a bit of validation is needed). Opens with discussions of nyctophobia - the hows, the whys, etc., and comes from my own personal experiences so what's relevant to me may not be to you, and that's okay! I hope you enjoy either way.🥰💖

Word count: 4, 106.

Warnings/content features: nyctophobia, crying (reader), swearing, anxiety so intense reader feels sick (but isn't physically ill), Fear of the Dark by Iron Maiden came out in 1992 but we're gonna pretend it came out in '86 because it's perfect for this scenario and it's the song which taught me to not be ashamed of my nyctophobia, so it gets a special mention! Established relationship, fluff, comfort, reader is early/mid 20s, reader initially keeps their nyctophobia a secret from Eddie (this fic is about him finding out about it), pet names (sweetheart, love, maybe some others), alcohol (they cracked some beers open then forgot about them, I guess? I just needed some connective exposition idk), mentions of being kissed so hard you can feel teeth through skin.

Fic specific tags: @the-slasher-madame @munsonsmel0dy @dumb-gemini @akwzilla @stephanie-lkj @thruheavenandhighwater @heavnswrld @devilcherryhot @alliecheer007-88 @dreaming-of-fictional-characters @seidenbros @livslifeonline @eddiemunsonshoney @aliceraered @moonlighting87 @wroteclassicaly

General e.m tags: @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @alliecheer007-88

(SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST - I ONLY WRITE FOR EDDIE)

You had always been afraid of the dark.

Always.

There had never been a day, as far back as you could remember, during which you hadn't dreaded with every fibre of your being the inevitable descent of the night. The sunlight hours made you itchy, the knowledge that it would be dark soon hanging over you and making you feel like you couldn't relax. Making you feel like you were in danger, because in just a few hours, all those familiar corners in all those familiar rooms would be filled with shadows, and the monsters inside your head would come out to play.

You never joined in with their games, because you had multiple ways to keep the darkness at bay.

Mainly, you made sure you were never exposed to darkness.

Before the sky had a chance to bleed into darker hues of purples and blues, you already had your curtains shut and the lights turned on. It was easier for you to acclimatise to the night time if you weren't able to see it get dark. Over the course of the evening, you would swap out the overhead light for slightly dimmer fairylights, and half an hour before bed, you exchanged those for your nightlight, which was dimmer still but the perfect level for you.

Light enough to see, dark enough to sleep.

Was how you explained it to yourself, and to anyone who asked - though there were few, for you protected this secret fiercely. You weren't ashamed of it any more - you had learned better than that years ago - but you also didn't see the need to advertise it. It was just something you dealt with alone every night. You knew what worked for you, what scared you, what soothed you, and you didn't stray from those intimate pieces of knowledge about yourself. You wouldn't - couldn't. You'd been too scared for too long now and you knew that this fear wasn't going anywhere; you had tried and failed many a time over the years to 'rid' yourself of it.

You had always been afraid of the dark and you would always be afraid of the dark.

So why not accommodate it every step of the way?

That had been your mentality since you were a teenager and you were sticking to it. Life was easier when you were on your own side. You had managed to avoid Eddie finding out so far; you always went home from his place before it got dark, you never stayed the night, you never went anywhere with him late in the evening. You spent hours with Eddie during the day but the moment the sky showed signs of getting dark, you were leaving. If he managed to convince you to stay just for a while longer, then you made sure to stay where there was light, and to stay as physically close to him as you could, your every nerve alight with tension. Eddie had picked up on certain things ever since you had gotten together but he didn't have enough information to really assemble the puzzle pieces, and that was just how you had wanted it to be. It wasn't that you didn't want to tell him, it's just that it had never come up in a natural conversation, and you didn't want to make a deal out of it by mentioning it yourself.

Unfortunately for you, that decision was taken out of your own hands due to a split second of carelessness. You had gotten 'too' relaxed around Eddie, because not only had you neglected to consider the time but you had also completely forgotten that Eddie didn't know. It wasn't until he began to turn on the small lights in his room and shut his curtains that you were forced to remember where you were, what the time was, and the situation you were now in. You didn't fully grasp the circumstances until half an hour later when you had almost forgotten yourself again - Eddie had a wonderful knack for being able to pull you out of your own head with such subtlety that you didn't even realise he was reaching inside until he already had you beside him on the outside.

"Hey, uh, wanna go grab us some beers to go with Ozzy? They're ~ , " Eddie trailed off, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, "I think second shelf?" The upward lilt of his voice turned it into a question and you smiled.

"Sure, I got it."

You swung the door open, took a step, and stopped dead halfway through the doorway, your body frozen in place, your mind racing. "Oh. Oh, fuck."

There was something in your voice which caught Eddie's attention - it was breathy, not at all how you normally sounded. He had never heard you like that. He almost dropped the Black Sabbath vinyl he was cradling reverently in his hands as he snapped his head around to look at you. "Y/N?"

"Mm-mm. Nope." You shook your head fiercely, already feeling the hot sting of tears. "No, no no - " You stepped back once, twice, three times, and shrieked when your back met a solid warm wall.

"Whoa, whoa, hey, hey," Eddie's words left him in one breath, "easy, Y/N," his hands gripped your upper arms as he pulled you to stand flush against his chest. His hands slid down your arms until they wound around your waist; Eddie hugging you to him. "Didn't mean to scare you. You okay?"

You tried to nod, to lie, you did, but you had already exposed this much of yourself. What was a little more? You shook your head and turned your face away from the scariest sight of that day: pitch blackness outside of Eddie's bedroom door.

"What's wrong?" Eddie turned you in his arms, his dark brows creased.

"It's - i-it's... Eddie, I can't go out there. Won't." You were shaking your head, crying harder now, and Eddie tilted his head at you. Dark curls lightly brushed across the strong slopes of his shoulders as he examined your body language, your extreme physical response to the open door, the late hour, your general avoidance of being anywhere other than in your own bedroom once it got dark...

Oh.

Oh.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie almost cooed, "you nyctophobic or something like that?"

All you had left in you was a nod. You looked over your shoulder, your breath caught in your throat and you jammed your eyes shut. "Don't like it." Your voice was thick with tears and you whimpered, turned away from the open door. You couldn't even bring yourself to open your eyes, your forehead growing so hot from the inside that it felt like you were going to be sick.

"All right, easy," Eddie's hands cradled your face, "keep those eyes closed, yeah? If they're shut, you can't see it's dark so you won't get scared, right?"

There was, admittedly, some logic in that idea, and it made you smile.

"Trusting you, Eddie."

A kiss was pressed to your forehead. A solemn oath.

"You're safe here, I promise," Two hands moved down your neck, down your arms, down, down, until Eddie could take your hands with his. His fingers interlocked with yours, intent on walking with you to turn on the hallway light. You held your ground, your arm yanking in its socket as Eddie was already a few paces closer to the door. When he looked back at you, he didn't force you to move by tugging or by showing impatience. He came back to your side, his thumb stroking slowly across the back of your hand, and smiled gently, "Trusting me, right?" His dark eyes roamed over your body, reading you as best as he could.

You nodded. Your breath hitched in your throat and Eddie held your eyes with his as you breathed in, out, finding safety in Eddie. He always had a way of making you feel so alive, so comfortable within yourself as he guided you into your place in the world, his hands over yours as you held the knife with which you carved it out. Beside him was where you felt most at home. "Wh-where's the light switch?"

Eddie smiled softly. "Just down the hall, Y/N. Only a couple steps. Keep those eyes closed and your hand in mine, yeah? Don't wanna take you out there," his admission was sheepish, dark eyes fixed on you, "and m'sorry but I also don't wanna leave you all alone when you're so scared."

Your lips twitched into a fond smile as the way he enunciated but made it sound as he had that day in the cafeteria as you said, "I'm following you into Mordor, Eddie." Even with the imposing darkness looming right behind him, in your direct line of vision, Eddie seemed like an angel to you. You were scared, your body trembling, heart racing, palms a little sweaty, mind racing, nausea settling over you like a cloak, but you wanted to be brave. You wanted to step out there for Eddie, because of Eddie, even though every nerve in your body screamed to shut down, to curl up in a ball on the bed and not move until morning.

"Sweetheart, I'd follow you anywhere."

You realised distantly that Eddie was distracting you with light conversation (though his words were steeped in truth), but you let him. As you both crossed the threshold, a whimper escaped you, but Eddie didn't shush you. He let you express yourself, his hand tight in yours, fingers squeezing as his other hand trailed along the wall, searching for the light. It reminded him of the Iron Maiden song Fear of the Dark, which was ironically one of your favourites. You often sung along to it when it came on the radio, though it struck Eddie then that you never listened to it after the sun went down... You really had been telling on yourself this whole time, but no one had put the pieces together.

At the threshold of the living room, Eddie found the switch. "I got it, sweetheart. Got those eyes closed still?" His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand and you shuffled forward to press your forehead to the back of Eddie's Dio vest, needing him closer than close.

"Yep. Like I said, trusting you, Munson."

Your voice vibrated against his back and something in Eddie's chest ached at all the trust, all the vulnerability, you were displaying. He wondered if you realised how loudly your actions were showing your love for him. He hoped his own were saying the same. You were both screaming it at each other. "Good," he hummed, then more dramatically as he drew out the word, "Good."

His antics made you giggle; you could almost see the tilt of his head, the smirk playing at the corner of his plush lips, his intense stare. He flicked up the light, casting a warm glow across the hallway and chasing your fears away, though some anxiety still lingered. Sometimes it took you hours to calm down.

"Oh, would you look at that," Eddie chuckled, "you're lighting up my world."

You groaned, laughing. "That was so bad, Eddie, even for you."

"But it's true." Eddie used his hold on your hand to pull you into his body, wrapping his arms tight around you. "You can open your eyes now, Y/N. I got you." Gentle sways from side to side were accompanied with humming. He switched between songs so quickly that you couldn't pin one down before the tune changed, and you revelled in the chaos that was Eddie Munson, even when all the world was still and quiet. Oh, but he was so himself that it hurt.

Now that you were back in the light, you took a few steadying breaths, feeling your heart begin to slow down, and made your way to the fridge, grabbing the two cans which were, in fact, right where Eddie had said they would be. He had more beer than food in the fridge and you resolved to fix that issue. Tomorrow. When it was light again. When it was safe again.

But tonight... how were you going to get home? It would be dark, so dark, not just out on the streets but at home, and you didn't have a torch you could use to guide your way. Eddie could drive you but there was still the question of it being pitch black at home, and what about -

"Y/N?"

You blinked, snapped out of it.

"Hey, hi," Eddie's smile was tight around the edges, "where did you go, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, focusing on Eddie. He always chased it all away. "I just... I'm worried about getting home. It's dark, Eddie, and I - I don't have a torch or a ride, I don't know what - "

The look on Eddie's face shut you up. It wasn't a stare, but it wasn't just a look, either. It was... contemplative. Putting what he knew of you against the situation at hand, mind whirring to come up with a solution you would be comfortable with. "So stay here."

"I would, but I need - "

Eddie laughed, ecstatic to be uncovering one more section of the tapestry that was you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You got a whole routine, don't you, sweetheart?" He made his way over to the sofa and sat down, patting his lap. "C'mon then, lay it on me."

You hesitated but something in Eddie's eyes was reassuring and you went to him gladly, letting his arms wrap tightly around you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, hands locked around your waist, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

"What makes you feel the safest at night?" Kisses were pressed to the side of your face, the back of your head, your neck, fingers pulled at the collar of your shirt so Eddie's lips could find purchase there, too. You could hear how sincere he was; Eddie wanted to know. Straight away, he accepted your fears, he grounded you with touch and then started a conversation to get to understand you better... no one had ever done that for you before, and it made your heart ache with love for the man beneath you.

You told Eddie everything - about your nightlight, and the fairy lights you rarely used but they were your emergency light source for if the nightlight didn't work properly. You told him about the music you preferred to fall asleep to, and the albums from those bands which you cycled through depending on that night's mood. You told him about your comfort items, and you finished up with, "but, honestly, you make me feel safest. If you hadn't been here tonight, I would've just... curled up in bed and not moved until morning. But you made me want to be brave and I feel so safe here with you and you're..." Don't say it, Y/N, let it be.

You should have remembered that Eddie was like a dog with a bone when he wanted to say something. His arms squeezed around you in encouragement and he nosed at the hollow underneath your ear; he always knew when you needed a little extra something.

"You're..." You sighed, closed your eyes, leaned back into Eddie. You knew he'd stabilise you against him. "The amount of times I've had all my comforts, but something hasn't felt right because you're missing from my space. And even your room is one of my favourite places to be, but it's not... it's not right unless you're there too." You paused, considering, and took one more plunge. Why not? "I just..." You stood up from Eddie's lap and ignored his protests as you turned around and plopped yourself down so that you were facing him. You felt like he needed to see you as you said what was on your mind. His arms were back around you so fast it was like you had never left his embrace. "You're my ultimate comfort, Eddie."

I only feel safe when I'm with you was at the core of what you were saying but you knew, you knew that Eddie would hear what you said, listen to what you didn't, and it was those things he would respond to. If anyone else had said even half the things you had tonight, Eddie would have initially assumed that they were joking or embellishing the truth. He never meant that much to anyone... except you. He took your words at face value, found himself not questioning a single word. Eddie trusted you as much as you trusted him and he tried to meet you vulnerability for vulnerability as he pressed into you until you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed.

"You always find new ways to tell me you love me, Y/N." A hushed awe in Eddie's voice as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. You pressed into the way you were sat on his lap, hugging him to you so tight that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest. "Do you want to stay the night? I don't want to make you uncomfortable but it is pretty late now and I have some small lights we can use, I've got pillows you can hug, I've got..." Eddie chuckled, "You've got me, so, uh - " he shrugged as he trailed off as if to say, 'it's not much' but he was wrong.

It - he - was everything.

"I..." Tell him about the room check. "Please, if it's no bot - "

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, sweetheart." A dark look crossed over Eddie's eyes and you took the warning for what it was. He had done so much work with you to get you to stop apologising for every little thing - including apologising too much - and at this stage of your relationship, it should have been something you long stopped saying. It slipped through sometimes, but Eddie was always there to firmly remind you that you were wanted, loved, and certainly no bother. Not to him, not to Wayne, nor to anyone else who mattered.

"Then, yes please!"

As you and Eddie got ready for bed - with Eddie finding you a Hellfire Club shirt to sleep in (not his shirt, but a shirt which you were comfortable in) - you did your best to complete a room check without giving it away. You had omitted this part of your night time routine; you felt embarrassed doing it alone in your room every night, so with Eddie there too? No, you didn't want him to know. You kept glancing at his back as you ducked down to look under the desk, swept a hand under the bed to check for anything which shouldn't be there - demons, corporeal ghosts, your mind helpfully supplied itself. You bit down on the rising panic as you continued, checking ceiling corners for spiders or other insects, eyes examining the walls for anything which hadn't been there earlier on...

"Room safe enough, sweetheart?"

You jumped, spun around to see Eddie leaning against the closed doorway with his arms folded over his chest, dark eyes soft under the low lighting of his bedroom. You could tell by the look on his face that he knew what you were doing, and he had been stood waiting for you to finish to your satisfaction, even without having his thoughts officially confirmed. Fuck, he was so beautiful, inside and out, and for what? "I - yeah, it's - I didn't mean anything by it, Eddie, I swear, I was just - "

"Scoping it out." He nodded, smiling at you softly. "It's okay, Y/N. I want you to be comfortable and if that means doing a scare-sweep," his hands spoke for him as they usually did, "then by all means. Just know you're safe here. I promise."

You held your hand out. Eddie stepped forward to take it instantly, his fingers interlocking with yours, and the two of you got into his bed. "I know, Eddie, I know." And then, "You're safe with me, too. Wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt you."

"I know." Eddie hummed, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he pulled you into his arms. He didn't tell you that the lights outside the bedroom were switched off apart from one in the kitchen, which he happened to know was the brightest in the entire trailer. You had been more absorbed in your room circuit than Eddie knew you were aware of, and it had been quite endearing to watch you take all the steps you needed to feel safe in your environment. It meant that you felt comfortable enough to be scared, in a strange way, and to show and then soothe that fear at the same time. Eddie thought it brave of you. His brave Y/N.

Eddie the Banished and Y/N the Brave... it had a nice ring to it.

"So, uh," you and Eddie laid with your foreheads pressed together, legs tangled up under the sheets, wearing matching Hellfire Club shirts, and arms around each other, "can I ask what you're so afraid of? Like, was it a horror film which got you good, or...?" Eddie trailed off, looking at you with affection so blatant that you had to remind yourself to breathe.

"I've... never really figured out why. I just... don't like it." Eddie snorted at the understatement - it was the second time you'd said that about your phobia and Eddie wondered if he needed to speak with you about the way you always minimised your own emotions. Perhaps tomorrow. You smiled, "I never have. I used to force myself to sleep in total black, thinking I'd 'get over it'," you nodded in agreement at Eddie's frown, offended on your past self's behalf, "but it only got worse the older I got. So I figured, why not lean into it and give myself whatever comfort helps me sleep?"

"So that's why the... the lights, the music, the room sweep, the comfort pillow..." Eddie's hands announced each new item and you watched them, mesmerised.

"Exactly. I know there's no demons under the bed, but I still feel the need to check, you know?"

"There's knowing, right, and then there's knowing."

You groaned in appreciation. "Yes, Eddie. God, you get me so well."

"I should hope so." He laughed, booped your nose. "It's pretty fuckin' metal of you, to face your fears every night."

"Metal?"

"Yeah," Eddie's nod was fierce as he tried to push closer into you; close was never enough. "You know you're gonna be scared but you face it because there's no choice, right? That's so metal."

"Sounds like someone else I know... always doing things he doesn't want to, just because he knows he should... He's braver than he gives himself credit for."

Eddie had no real response to that. He only held you tighter, tipped his head back so his lips could find purchase on your forehead, feathering lightly and then so hard that you could feel the outline of his teeth through his skin. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Eddie." A pause, wondering how to say it. But then, all you had done tonight was expose yourself to Eddie, so it seemed pointless to rehearse now. "Thank you for protecting me. For letting me check out the room and for keeping on a light. For being here, for being you."

Eddie wondered what you had eaten that day to make you so talkative, so open, but he refused to question it. He longed to be close to you, in all things and in all ways, and tonight could not have gone better if he had planned it. You had opened up so beautifully and Eddie was desperate to find the opportunity to do the same with you, to show you pieces of him he had never shown to anyone. It would be a quiet thank you for tonight; you really were so brave.

Eddie kissed your forehead again, settling down to go to sleep. Your eyes drifted closed for the final time that night as Eddie said, "Anytime, sweetheart." It was another solemn oath, forged in the fires of a love that burned so hot all either of you could do was let yourselves experience it. After all, a flame shared is a flame doubled.

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous Chapter

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Implied low self esteem, mentioned panic attacks and anxiety, implied emotional neglect by best friends, supporting character short death flashback

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 7: The Ghost Witch

A/N. In honor of stopping the spread of Asian hate, and to celebrate the start of Bangtan's entry into being more widely known not only for their music, but also for their civic involvement in all things that matter, I dedicate this chapter to a much newer beginning.

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People say happiness is a choice.

But what if...just what if you try to choose to be happy, try being the word, and yet you can't seem to feel anything but a constricting sort of self imposed rejection?

Or maybe it's just your anxiety killing you.

You've had panic attacks before, and you hated it--it's like being trapped between the chasm of falling down the stairs but you just hang there loosely, never falling until your breaths go back to normal and your brain rewires on its own, only to go back to that same dreadful feeling the next day, over and over and over again.

But anxiety...anxiety is on a whole other level.

It never leaves.

You have never had a therapist before. Unlike Yoongi, you weren't so keen on opening up to your parents when you were a kid (and even now as an adult, you don't delve into serious topics whenever they visited). What could you say?

"Hey, mom and dad. Nice to see you. Did you know that your daughter isn't happy with herself so much she can't stand to look at the mirror some days?"

Highly unlikely.

Besides, in your family, showing mental weaknesses will only get a scoff and some long drawn out double lecture about 'when I was your age, I didn't have that kind of shit to deal with'.

And yet you were tired.

Existing was just tiring sometimes.

"You're thinking too much, mouse. "

You startle at the new voice, eyes shooting to stare at the spectre floating above you, your arms finding their way against the cool sheets of your bedroom.

Or former bedroom?

Well you weren't dead. Not yet anyway.

It was just weird to think about having your two bodies in two places at once.

The comatose one currently at MyeongDong Hospital connected to life support, and you in your ghost form or spirit form or whatever the fuck you were in the Bangtan's residence.

Moon Byul, ethereal in her white kimono and long red hair (a trait that would have had any man, particularly your best friend Yoongi bedding her faster than even Jungkook can run and that boy runs fast).

It had been two days since the seance and Eugene had all but left you to your own devices.

That is, have Byul hang around for awhile until you eventually woke up in your corporeal body.

She did say she was going to be your unofficial ghost guide.

You sigh, turning your head to stare at her pretty face. It was a shame really that she had died so young.

According to her brother, Byul had always been sickly as a young girl, and had long since known when her time was up --it was a trait passed down from the females of Yang to the next generation.

Grim reaper's eyes he had said.

And so one day, while it was storming wildly, Byul just drove out to sea and drowned herself.

It was a pretty morbid way to go.

"Tell me what you're thinking about, mouse. " Byul hovers to the side.

Her voice surrounds you like a siren underwater. Cool and soothing is what she is.

You had never met Byul before until now but you did see pictures of her all over the Yin Yang Quatro.

Eugene doesn't talk about her much, probably hurt over the fact that she chose to die and leave him alone, but with what little you could gather, the briefest tremble in his voice told you a lot about his love for his only blood relative.

"Just...how we're going to go about things tomorrow. " You confess, twirling your hair distractedly.

The ghost hums, floating over to take a good look at your face and you blush. It isn't everyday that a beautiful ghost looks at you like that! Particularly not one who is in league with the Bangtan boys' in terms of being a god send.

She pokes your nose, another habit you've noticed she does while often with you (or as often as the day she nearly gave all seven of your best friends an aneurysm by dashing towards you as if to attack).

"Don't worry, mouse. The ghosts associated with every memory you have in this community are not savage creatures. The only dark entities are the ones beyond the veil where I come from, and I have yet to sense one of them."

The at least for now is unspoken and that's what makes you shudder.

"Oh, you're fading, mouse. " She lightly grumbles, irritated but not at you.

True enough, your fingers become transparent, only to go back to its undisturbed, solid state once Byul touches your hand.

Perhaps that was the thing about having Byul as your spirit.

Eugene had explained that the planes of where you are now were conflicting, hence you were merely limited to a human form for a couple of hours until you would eventually fade away.

It was the limit of Eugene's strange abilities--he can't make people rise from the dead (nor from a coma apparently), but what he can do, is make them visible to their loved ones if the desire of the person was strong enough to sustain one's soul.

Your desperation to come back to your best friends was what helped you over come being stuck in a spirit form.

At least for a good while.

All good things must come to an end, you suppose and by then, only Yoongi for some odd reason was the only one who could get a sense of you.

Maybe because he was the most emphatic out of all of them despite him keeping to himself most of the time.

When he wasn't loving girls and leaving them that is.

"Thank you," you murmur, feeling the after effects of Byul's energy.

"Sleep, mouse." She says, and your lids flutter shut.

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You awake to arguing.

"Stop, don't open those fucking blinds, she might disappear!"

Rolling to your side, the heated whispers cease as a hand caresses your cheek.

"Forgive us, baby. You can sleep more if you're tired, yeah?"

Blinking back the dimness of the room, you hoist yourself up to mild protests, arms coming to encircle your shoulders as you properly take a good look at the people inside your bedroom.

Seven shadows shift awkwardly, one letting go of the curtains just as the dust mites dancing in the light seeping through from your large french windows settle down into nothingness.

Oh.

"Guys? What are you doing here? Don't you have to be at the company?" You question, wondering if they skipped training with the staff.

Your boys were after all the brains behind the KMJP Industries, an affiliate of their adoptive father's huge billion dollar conglomerate even while doing university and you know they were working themselves to the bone recently to produce new tracks for contracted foreign artists and some other related stuff.

It was such bad timing that you got injured and you somehow felt guilty about taking precious time away from them.

From the corner of your eye, you spot a Starbucks bag and can't help but wrinkle your nose at the smell.

"That smells like shit," you blurt, only to shut your mouth at the realization that the boys might have brought you dinner, and you were being relatively ungrateful.

But...could you even eat at this point?

Eyeing the caramel macchiato and bread that Namjoon was slowly pulling out to sniff with furrowed brows, you decide you can't even if you want to.

Because it smells fucking rotten. What the fuck.

Suddenly, Hoseok shouts as Byul glides through the walls, "Mouse, don't eat anything. "

You hide a nervous chuckle as Namjoon nearly drops the bagel and coffee, only for Jimin to catch the entire thing and hand it over to Jin who promptly takes a whiff in mild consternation.

"But...it smells fine?" He mumbles more to himself than you and you look to Eugene's dead sister for explanation.

She flips her hair daintily before taking a hover to her new spot in the corner. "To you it does, human. But to her, it will smell sour and unappetizing, as she is trapped between wakefulness and death, her senses will not work properly. Even I cannot predict what she might feel about random everyday objects. "

Ever the curious pup, you hum with an ask, "What does it smell like to you, Byul?"

She shrugs after a moment and you realize the boys were as curious to know the answer as you were. "Like nothing. I am already dead and everything connected to my past self has left my memories like dust. "

You frown. "Oh, but you still remember Eugene though?"

She smiles at you mysteriously. "My brother is not a part of my past. He is a part of my present and always will be. "

Does that mean--oh. Oh!

You remember Eugene having once told you back when he had to leave you alone to manage Yin Yang Quatro not to worry about intruders as you wouldn't be alone.

You assumed he meant his pet dog Kimchi.

But now you are starting to think otherwise.

So Byul still haunted the place, huh.

It would've creeped you out, but seeing as you're on the way to following her footsteps if you couldn't get back, it was like you weren't even afraid at all.

Byul had this calming effect about her that made your heart serene. If anything, you might just marry Byul in the after life if things didn't work out with the boys.

You think you saw a twitch on the seven men's faces but ignore them entirely in favor of your specter.

She leans forward from her position against the wood, "I scouted the perimeter, and we are going to start with the shelter, if that's alright with you, YN?"

Byul switches topics fast and you can't help but freeze, alerting the boys to your discomfort.

The youngest three immediately gravitate towards you, glaring at Byul.

The shelter?

"What do you mean the shelter?" Hoseok frowns.

You had never worked at any shelter before as far as they know.

You gulp.

Here's the thing.

Although the boys spoiled you for everything, not even letting you pay a dime for groceries, and even giving you an allowance apart from the money your parents sent and your two part time jobs, you had been roped into taking a third not because you needed to but because you wanted to.

"The, um...it's," you exhale loudly, causing all men to shift their concerned gazes to you. "It's a facility for homeless people. "

They sigh in relief. "Oh. That does not seem so bad?" Taehyung hums in light appreciation, though he can't help but wonder if the money they were giving you wasn't enough.

The others seem to think so as Yoongi questions, "Do you...work there?"

Of course they wouldn't know.

They didn't know about Eugene, nor did they know about your apartment.

The only job they were aware of (and of which you had to beg them to let you work in) was at Starbucks.

You shrug. "It's a voluntary kind of thing. "

You try to hide your grimace as Byul raises a well sculpted brow at you (how the fuck does a ghost have perfect eyebrows on?!).

"You didn't tell them?"

They swivel to her and you wince.

"YN?" Jin's no nonsense tone sends you spiralling into a sort of dreaded abyss as sweat breaks out of your chin.

Forcibly closing your eyes, you tip your head back already feeling an oncoming head ache.

"It's a home for prostitutes. I occasionally help out."

You cover your ears at the multitude of angry outbursts, having had already expected it in the first place.

If this is how they would react to that little tidbit in your life, you wonder how you would even go through all of your memories with them, much less talk to ghosts at this rate.

This was troublesome.

FLASHBACK

"What do you mean they have to be the ones to learn everything about her? Can't she learn it herself?" Eugene runs a hand through his handsome face.

"...okay that is an absurd statement, I retract. But! But isn't that an invasion of privacy in your ghost world rules or something, sis?" He gripes, uneasy about the entire thing. Your boss cared about you to that extent.

Byul could only smirk. "If you're worried about her, just think about the results. Those men of hers don't seem to know a thing outside of the life they had created for her inside this house. "

Eugene pauses. "So basically you're telling me that YN has to open up to them so they could collect every fragment shard of her soul that's somehow being absurdly kept by a bunch of your ghost friends in the netherworld? And it has to be those seven assholes?"

"Yes. "

"...Fine. You all heard that?" He glares at the seven men while you merely shrink back behind Eugene, trying your best to avoid all the eyes on you.

At this point, you just wanted the ground to grow a mouth and swallow you whole.

Because you were about to let Bangtan Sonyeondan in on every little secret you had kept from them all these years.

"If only you hadn't been fucking around, this would be a lot easier." Eugene lowly mutters but you hear and you couldn't have agreed more.

If only.

FLASHBACK END

Next chapter

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[mangodestroyer]

Does anyone else see Crowley as being, like, the celestial version of an atheist/agnostic? I'm agnostic and I can kinda see a lot of my non-religiosity in him. I'm not saying this cause he's a demon. He literally cannot comply with either Heaven nor Hell's way of doing things.

Aziraphale reminds me of someone who really wanted to cling onto the beliefs they were raised with, but still has his doubts and questions things. But despite his doubts and despite his good friend telling him his beliefs might not be correct, he still stubbornly clings to them sometimes because he isn't ready to accept that they might just be wrong. Eventually though, something happens that proves that the beliefs he was raised with aren't infallible and he ends up in the same boat as Crowley.

I'm writing a human AU right now where these two are in their mid-20's, and this is something I have thought about a lot. I highly doubt either of them would be religious. I see Crowley as being agnostic because he questions things a lot and can't seem to just settle on one ideology. Also because Crowley is a bit of a wreck and this can add to his anguish, as thinking about these things too much can cause him existential dread and anxiety. I also think there's a chance he may have witnessed some religious influence growing up, but also had a lot of atheist influence.

Aziraphale, like I said, seems like he clung to the beliefs he was raised with growing up. His family were probably Christians. They didn't have to be abusive, per se, but with how much Christianity was pushed onto Aziraphale, it might come off as religious abuse because he probably was way too afraid of pissing off God as a child. It probably wasn't until he was a teenager when he started having his doubts. You see, Aziraphale was probably also a very smart and inquisitive kid. Human Azi would easily be a gifted individual. He would have definitely been a straight A student and enjoyed school.

He also likes to look into things. When he started having his doubts, he probably started looking at counter-arguments for religion. It probably took him a long time to accept that his beliefs were probably not correct because he was afraid he'd go to Hell if he admitted that he couldn't hold onto these beliefs in good faith. However, I personally believe that he would finally admit to himself that he doesn't believe in God. He doesn't believe in any God. He doesn't think it's very likely that a God or after life exists because he couldn't find any evidence to suggest otherwise.

In other words, he's an atheist and he's happy with that. I feel like he'd just be okay with not having to worry about whether or not there is a God or an afterlife. I think as long as he got to read a lot of books, eat delicious food, and spend his life with Crowley, one life would be enough for him. And of course, he isn't judgemental of those who aren't on the same page. He's not the type of atheist who gets mad at people for not being atheist. It's just the conclusion he came to and is happy with.

I'm not trying to take jabs at anyone who happens to be religious. This is just what I see these characters believing as humans. I've known religious people in real life who are very intelligent individuals. And atheists/agnostics who are dumb. Humans are complex so their belief in whether or not a God exists is only a small part of them and is not a defining feature. For me personally, this is just a cool and relatable part of their characters to explore. I also just love the dynamic of an anxious agnostic with a comfortable atheist.