#the fear of falling apart
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loneviatoris · 1 year ago
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natjennie · 11 months ago
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something about "your anger isn't scary to me" is making me so emotional. something about as above so below, cassandra as a mirror of kristen. something about "I've been dropping the ball a lot lately" and kristen's struggles with adhd. something about teenage girls and rage and fury and justice. something about adaine's vision of ruining fallinel and the sylvaire looking for revenge. something about sadness and doubt and anger and love. something about "I choose to understand" being the absolute core theme of d20 in general. something something.
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thechy-fychannel · 6 months ago
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y'all ever think abt how it was julie having the affair and it is even said multiple times that she was the one who left him, yet wilson was still the one who left their home and moved in with house. like. he couldn't bear to stay in their home alone. he immediately ran to house and stayed on his couch for weeks. suffered through his pranks and his laziness and his manipulation. telling him he wants him gone while sabotaging his attempts to leave. and he only left once he got a girlfriend again.
#chyanne speaks#house md#hilson#hate crimes md#gregory house#james wilson#i think his inability to be alone is such an interesting quality of his that isnt touched on enough#like yes we all haha at his long string of unsuccessful relationships but we dont talk abt it all stemming from his inability to be alone#his first wife leaves him and then he remarried quickly#he cheats on the second wife and remarries quickly#the third wife cheats on him and leaves him and he immediately moves in with house#and then starts dating a patient and immediately moves in with her#but!!! then he moves into the hotel and is alone for like almost a year! and honestly he NEEDED IT#bc GROWTH happened in that year and he meets someone who doesn't fit his M.O. who breaks away from the mold#although he does immediately move in with her too but still. amber was different. she was the step in the right direction#and then she dies.#and then wilson throws himself into the left field. everything needs to change. he's spent so long fearing being alone.#so he tries to leave so he is completely and totally alone without house to fall back on#but house needs him. he needs him too much. they need each other too much.#and he falls back to house again. and he's content that way. he's always the most content when he's with house. always feels the least alone#and then sam comes back into his life and ruins e v e r y t h i n g#he falls right back onto those old patterns. kicks house out and moves her in. and then what happens??? of course??? she leaves him. again.#and then he's alone again and it hurts. he gets a cat that we only hear about twice and then never gets brought up again#but wilson has his kitty. he has house. he's not alone. he can be content.#and then house fucks everything up. he goes to prison. wilson is alone again.#im honestly SHOCKED that wilson didnt remarry in that year they were apart but he was rly trying to change!#he was working on himself and trying to make changed he thought would be good for him#and then house comes back. and house won't LET wilson be alone. he wont leave him alone.#and it's exactly what wilson has been yearning for since the day he drove that car into cuddys house#and in the end. as long as he had house that was all that mattered. as long as he had house he wasn't alone.
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kodared · 4 months ago
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✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰
fears not enough they have to tear him apart.
Chapter 3/?
Wordcount: 2,557 / 7,296
➀ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★ ★ - Also on AO3! - ★
!!! CONTENT WARNING FOR VIVID DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACKS. !!!
...
More than anything you wanted to get away from this human. Your hands finally weaseled their way out of his vice grip as you pushed at his fingers that held down your body. His thumb still pressed across your shoulders painfully as you tried to pry him off. 
“Let GO!-“ 
Ignoring his question you let out a strangled cry, if you weren’t so frantic and lightheaded you might have believed the expression on his face to be pure shock and awe. 
“I'm afraid I can't do that, you'll just take off running and I would like to ask you a few questions,” 
That was the point of being put down you quipped back in your head. Your voice lost among your emotions as you screamed internally, not wanting to give this scientist the satisfaction of a response. Your hands still pushing at his digits that curled uncomfortably around you. It was pathetic really. Being able to be pinned by the simple act of being held. His grip wasnt even all that tight anymore, adding insult to injury. 
The sheer power the human held over you just by existing made you dizzy and nauseous. 
He seemed to be lost in thought as he watched you push and practically claw at his pointer finger. He made no move to pin your hands down again so you assumed you weren't doing much damage to your dismay. 
That damned jar once again was lifted and set on the desk, before you could stop it you felt his hand tilting so your legs faced the opening. 
You tried to stop it by pushing a foot on the rim, but it was no use. All it took was Ford letting go and gravity pulled you down into the glass with a small thud. 
Your injured ankle took the brunt of the force, making you stifle a scream as you landed painfully into the glass. All the while the human just pulled his journal closer and wrote. 
Stumbling on your feet you leaned against the front of the glass, your hands balling into fists as you hit the thick and cold glass. 
“There, now that I'm not holding you does that help?” 
It almost made it worse. Atleast he wasnt picking up the jar and taking you down into his lab. 
He wasnt speaking, keeping his eyes trained on you and your heaving form. You could feel the beads of sweat practically rolling down your face. 
You were stressed. You could feel the buzz of a panic attack under your skin, your fists no longer hitting the glass as you tried to calm your frantic breathing. 
Standing was too much to ask of your body too it seemed as your knees buckled and you fell into the cold floor again. 
You only realized Ford was still speaking to you when you finally looked back up and saw almost a panicked expression on his face. Your ears rang painfully loud as you tried so hard to focus on what he was saying. 
Ultimately it didn't matter because right as you started looking up at him he seemed to panic more. Helpless to stop him you watched as he stood from his desk and you physically recoiled. Half expecting him to pick up the glass and take you down to his lab the moment you stopped being useful. 
He didn't do that though to your surprise. He just left the room. You thought that would calm you down but it didn't, the panic in your chest still raged on. 
The once uncomfortable buzz under your skin had now circled its way to your lungs. Your breathing was labored and frantic, the only comfort coming from the freezing glass walls of your prison as you pressed against it. 
Small droplets of tears glided down your face, leaving an uncomfortable dryness in their wake. You curled up as small as possible, your knees pressing to your chest. 
You had been caught. 
Your fate was sealed. 
He would drop you off at some lab for more testing if he didn't do it himself. He was probably calling someone to get you now. 
Unbeknownst to you at the moment he was making a call, but not a call to any scientist. He was making a call to the most brilliant mechanic he knew for help. 


It felt like it took forever for the human to come back. You didn't exactly trust your time perception at this moment though, he could've only been gone for a few minutes for all you knew. 
You stayed curled in your tight ball as you heard him sit back down at his desk. Your body is tense and awaiting him to do something. He was most definitely looking at you, no doubt writing whatever he could into his journal. 
You didn't look at him. Straining your still ringing ears to try to pick up anything that could clue you into what he was doing. 
You could most definitely hear his pen scratching away at a page in his journal. He wasnt speaking to you directly which wasnt as big of a relief as you thought it would be. 
Why did he leave the room? That was your biggest question in all honesty. 
A few more moments of silence passed between the two of you. The only sound was your strained breathing that you doubted the human could hear anyway. 
Your shoulders tensed as his voice was once again reverberating around you. Still in a whisper despite how loud it was regardless. 
“...It didn't seem to have any claws, how would It have survived in the wilderness.. Does it have some sort of venom? No, if it did-” 

Ah. Muttering to himself. Honestly, the mark of someone who was completely sane was when they mumbled to themselves. 
You screwed your eyes shut as you blocked out what he was saying. Especially when he insisted on referring to you as an ‘it’. 
You were about to yell at him, to tell him to shut up when your ears heard a loud knocking coming from the front door. 
So he had called more scientists after all. 
The creaky wooden chair he sat on squealed against the hardwood floor as he stood. Your hands clamping over your sensitive ears before the panic that had just begun to dissipate picked back up tenfold. 
His hand reached for the jar. 
Denial. 
There was no way he was just going to turn you into the others so quickly. He had only just discovered you. Surely he hadn't taken enough notes yet to be satisfied. 
You reeled backward, your ankle screaming its protests as well as your lungs. The oxygen your brain craves so much is being exhaled much too quickly to be fully processed. 
His hand closed around the Jar. Making your body sway unsteadily as you saw the desk below you rising. The glass flooring heavily disorients you. 
Anger. 
What reasoning did he have to uproot you from your life? You weren't harming anyone. You were being turned into some scientist to experiment on you just for being born. You hadn't asked for this. 
You had just as much control over being born a borrower as he had being born a man. You didn't choose this life. 
Your hands hit against the glass as more tears began to go down your face. Hitting the floor of the jar with a faint clink. 
The human seemed none the wiser to your protests. His other hand going to cover the top of the jar as he swiftly left his room. 
Bargaining. 
Your whole body was shaking. The desperation finally made you find your voice as it cracked. 
“Let me out!- I'll talk!- I can-... I can tell you more! Don't you want answers? I can give answers!-” 
You rambled to yourself through choked sobs. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks. 
The human didn't stop walking to the main room. You both were now at the stairs when he finally acknowledged you. 
“We can all talk in a moment,” 
His voice was smooth as if he was zoned in on one task and one task alone. 
Depression. 
The realization that you couldn't stop him put a new weight on your chest as you fell into the glass wall. Not from your shaky legs surprisingly. The human just wasnt holding the jar with the most care it seemed. 
You tried to put on a brave face as he set your glass prison on the kitchen table. You were back where it all started. 
You should've been more careful that night. He should have never seen you. You should have never moved into this cottage. More than anything you regretted not being able to see your family again. 
You could hear the front door open as a second pair of footsteps joined Ford in the kitchen. 
You prepared yourself for the worst. So when you looked up and met the eyes of his colleague you stilled. 
“...You put them in a JAR?-” 
You hadn't expected that.
Ford seemed shocked at his assistants' outburst. Floundering for an excuse. 
“It was the best option! It didn't want to be held and if I put it down it wouldve-”
You could only imagine how rough you looked based on how the other human's expression softened when you flinched at the humans raising their voices. 
The other scientist Ford invited over had a very thick Southern accent. You never really heard an accent like his unless you counted the shows Ford occasionally played much too loud. 
Thinking back on it this human might have made him watch said shows. 
He took his thin-framed glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Agitated with his companion. 
“You called sayin’ they looked ill, it's not hard to see exactly why.” 
It clicked in your head now. Ford must've seen your panic as some sort of illness rather than the emotional trauma he was inflincting. 
“I wasnt causing it any harm! It even understands English, do you know how big of a find this is!” 
Ford was trying his hardest to explain his reasoning to Fiddleford. He only wanted answers from the smaller being. Fiddleford put his glasses back on and directly addressed the creature in the jar. 
You watched as he crouched down by the table, causing you to push yourself backward. Pressing against the glass as hard as you possibly could to put distance between the two of you. 
“M’terribly sorry for all this. Do you have a name? Mines Fiddleford. Fiddleford Mcgucket,” 
He didn't reach for the jar, he didn't even get closer to examine you. He just sat still, patiently waiting for you to respond. 
Ford interjected. 
“I already tried talking to it directly, but it gave me no response apart from when we were on the stairs and it was just babbling-” 
“y/n.” 
Both the humans in the room froze at your weak voice. Of course, it was rough and scratchy from your prior sobbing, but they heard it regardless. 
“Thats.. That's my name.” 
You could see the way Fiddlefords mouth pinched into a small smile. Almost one of pride at being able to get a response from you. 
Ford didn't look upset, but he most definitely wasnt pleased at the thought of the creature preferring Fiddleford over him. After all, he had been the one to discover it, it should want to talk to him. 
“Pleased to meet ya, I would offer you a handshake but
 Well, I doubt you'd be able to shake more than my pinky” 
His chuckle soothed you slightly. Your chest still felt tight, reminding you of just how terrible you looked probably as you wiped your tears away finally. 
You even caught yourself trying to smile out of politeness before resting your shaking hands in your lap. 
You could see the way Fiddlefords eyebrows pinched together in concern. 
“Do ya need any water? How long have you been in there?” 
“I uh-” 
Neither of the humans heard you as Ford stepped forward again and let out a sigh. 
“I’ve only had it in there for an hour or so, if we let it out it could run.” 
It most definitely felt longer than an hour. Time must’ve been moving faster since you were in such a panic. 
Your body instinctually tensed up as Ford stepped closer. Making Fiddleford finally snap as he stood from his crouch. 
“I need a word with you alone,” 
He didn't even wait for Ford to respond before yanking him by the sleeve out of the room. Leaving you alone once more as you heard the front door slam. 


“Ford. Ya can't just trap someone in a jar and expect them to be okay. Mentally and physically speakin’.” 
Ford was being actively chewed out and by his assistant no less. 
He crossed his arms across his chest defensively. His hands tightened on his forearms. 
“I never hurt it! I only asked it a few questions, even the Gnome was calmer than it!” 
“The Gnome was an entirely different situation! You asked him if he wanted to come with you! You just found this
 What did you call them?” 
“Parva persona.” 
Fiddleford ran a hand through his hair before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his tobacco. Ignoring the way Ford groaned to himself as the mechanic put a bit in his lip. 
“Whatever. Not their name anyway. And while yer’ at it quit callin’ them an it. It's dehumanizing.” 
Ford unfolded his hands and threw them in the air before gripping the railing of his porch. 
“Exactly my point Fiddleford! They’re not human! It's abnormal! By all rules of science, it shouldn't even be possible for something as small as it to exist!” 
Fiddleford spit a bit of his chewing tobacco off the porch before slowly getting more agitated with his partner. He could be so smart but so dumb most of the time. 
“What makes something deserving of basic decency Ford? Because ill tell ya’, its normally when they look human but smaller and can speak English. I think you even treated the Gnome with more dignity! You didn't trap him in a jar!” 
Ford didn't quip back saying he did put the gnome in a cage after questioning it for a few days to research it. He just sighed and looked off into the woods. 
“...I just don't want my discovery to run off if we let it out. If it runs I don't think ill get another opportunity for answers.” 
“Why not just talk to them? M’sure you could get them to hang around, you’d just have to accept getting answers slowly. An while yer at it stop puttin’ em in jars.” 

That might work. If Ford could make some sort of connection with it he could get more answers than just interrogating it in the jar. Ford could see the look in his eyes and before he could stop it the other man was already going back into the cottage. 
With a heavy groan, Fiddleford spat out the last of his tobacco off the porch into the grass before following him. 
He had a feeling this would be a long night with no sleep. For both him and the creature in the jar.
. . .
TAGLIST: @i-am-tiredd
Thank you so much for reading!! More updates soon :)
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hamsternamedmarinette · 2 months ago
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howlsofbloodhounds · 1 month ago
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do yall think when color was fresh out the Void he’d have a panic attack or a meltdown if he tried to take a shower too quickly (and alone) due to the overwhelming painful sights, sensations, and sounds (especially if it hits his broken skull and it hurts and he worries his flames will extinguish and his skull will finally finish cracking) but he also puts himself through it sometimes when it’s too quiet and still
did he have a fear of the shower for awhile
did delta and/or epic have to sit outside the shower on the floor or cabinet for color to even go near it himself because color couldn’t even stand being physically touched for too long without breaking down even if he also was crying tears of relief and joy
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dindjarindiaries · 1 year ago
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When It Rains, It Pours
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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
prompts: “Just breathe, it’ll be over soon.” and “I’m sorry—.” “No, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”
main masterlist ‱ prompt masterlist
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"Cyar'ika?"
Din's voice draws you out of your slumber. Once you gather your bearings, you smile at the sight of Din's face and raise a hand to hold his cheek. "Hey."
Your thumb brushes just under his eye, and in doing so, you notice the lack of a sparkle in his dark gaze. The shaking of his hand that's still on your shoulder tells a frightening story. The concern drips into your tone as you give him a quick once-over.
"Hey." You hold his face with both hands, one of your thumbs lowering to run over his trembling lips. "What is it?"
Din's gaze averts yours. Instead, he turns his attention to the viewport on the opposite side of your room. His voice is quiet when he answers. "There's a storm."
You take a moment to listen for it. Sure enough, the rain is pounding onto the roof above your heads, and a distant roll of thunder makes Din's grip on your shoulder tighten for a moment. This is a rare occurrence for Nevarro, and for Din, it's a frightening one. You try to win back his gaze with another brush of your thumb over his lips. "Are you okay?"
Din hesitates, the breath he holds visible in the stalling of his scarred chest. When his gaze meets yours, his honesty wins out, and he gives his head a small shake. Your chest aches with the way your heart's shattered.
You don't need an explanation from him, nor would you ever ask for one. Thunder can sound like explosions, and explosions can bring Din back to many traumatic moments—but mostly the one that terrifies his inner child.
"Here, let's get some lights on." You sit up in the bed and lean over to the table on your side, pressing the button that activates the warm lamps throughout the room. Din's since taken a hold of one of your hands between his and you let him keep it there. "How about some tea?"
Din nods and watches as his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. "Yeah."
You smile at him. "Great." You take your hand from him only to make your way out of the bed. Din's tunic on your figure has already made you decent as you walk around the bed to his side. You take him by the hand to lead him out into the living area of your cabin. "I just picked up a new blend from the bazaar."
"That sounds—," Din starts, cutting himself short when a particularly loud roll of thunder interrupts him. He squeezes your hand and forces himself to take a deep breath. "Great. That sounds great."
You smile at his bravery as you begin to heat the water and set out two cups for each of you. "And you know what?" Once everything's set out, you turn back to Din and wrap your arms around his neck. He steadies himself with his hands on your waist. "I think you're doing great."
You urge him to lower his head to your shoulder, getting a quick kiss in on his cheek before he does so. When there's another crash of thunder, one that makes the cabin shake, Din pulls you tight enough against himself to make you lose your breath for a moment. He loosens the grasp, but still keeps it tighter than before.
"Just breathe," you say, your voice a soft and sweet breath. Your cheek presses against the side of his head as you run your hand over his back. "It'll be over soon."
After a long moment of silence, Din speaks up, his voice muffled by the tunic on your shoulder. "I was a child," he reflects. "You would think I could deal with this, now."
You lift his face from your shoulder to hold it between his hands, making him face you and the comfort of your gaze. "If only it were that easy." You smile and run your knuckles along his cheek, tracing the fading outline of a scar from many years ago on this same planet. "You're already a hero, Din. You don't have to keep proving that."
Din's face starts to flush as he looks down in shyness. "Thank you." His brow wrinkles when he gains the faith to search your gaze again. "I know I woke you up. I'm sorry—."
"No, don't be sorry." Your hand runs through the hair at the side of his head. "It's not your fault." You shake your head at him. "You can't help it."
Din looks as if he's preparing to argue, but the sound of the water boiling from behind you stops him. You step away from Din to remove it from heat and fill your cups with the prepped tea spices. Once you've handed Din yours, you hop up onto the counter and hold yours between your hands.
"Now, we have a few options," you present to him. Din makes room for himself between your knees, his hips resting against the edge of the counter as he raises an eyebrow at you. "We can sit here and drink our tea in silence if that's what'll help you, or I can talk you through it." You brush a piece of hair out of Din's face. "Or... once we're done with our tea..." your thumb finds his lips once again, "I can kiss you back to sleep."
Din chuckles and dares to lift the steaming cup of tea towards his lips. "The latter two options sound very enticing."
You smile as he sips from his cup and lets his brow loosen in relaxation. "Yeah?"
Din reaches up to make your forehead meet his own. "Yeah." He takes a deep breath and manages a genuine smile for you. "Thank you, cyar'ika."
You brush your fingers along his untrimmed chin. "You never have to thank me, Din." You draw him closer until you taste the new tea blend from him, an exchange of trust, love, and comfort that goes beyond words.
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sholmeser · 5 months ago
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so like it’s 1999 and solid snake is in zanzibar land and gray fox tells you that all he can do is fight. it’s all he has and it’s probably all you’re ever going to have, too, because deep down you know your father is right, you know he is right as you click the lighter and burn the flesh off his skin, you know he is right when he tells you, this will never go away. i am always going to be a part of you. it’s 2005 and solid snake is in shadow moses island, alaska and gray fox tells you that’s good, snake. hit me harder. do it more. that’s good. when you meet meryl you kill the guards, and then snake thinks he loves her, so you kill psycho mantis for her, ocelot tortures you and you withstand it for her, you beat liquid to a pulp for her and while his blood is on your fists he smiles and tells you that you two, you’ll always be the same. gray fox means violence means meryl means violence, so what’s love if not that? what is it if not the feeling of broken bones under your knuckles, if not the smell of your father’s burnt flesh? but she's too young, she doesn’t understand you and she couldn’t if she tried, because she’s eighteen years old and doesn’t know any better and doesn’t understand that after you sleep with her you’re going to get up and let the pillow grow cold, she thinks you’ll tell her everything and when you don’t, because you can’t, she’ll leave you. you kill him with your fists and for her you destroy shadow moses and you hear him say to you again that’s good, snake, that feels good, do it harder. but it isn’t a coincidence that in mgs1 you meet otacon at the same time you meet gray fox. otacon who is so scared of battle he pisses his pants and otacon who cries over a woman who could never love him back and otacon who thinks good people like dogs, kind people like dogs, otacon who passed you a meal, ready-to-eat and a bottle of ketchup across the bars of your cell and when you ask him why the fuck are you here if you cant help me he says to you, i thought you might be hungry. otacon who gives you her handkerchief that was once her mother's and will be hers once again when she dies, when you rest it atop her glazed-over irises, a cycle of love. she was a good person, snake, and so are you. she liked the wolves and you do too. otacon who cries over his baby sister’s little body, who blames himself for being seventeen years old under the touch of the woman who should have been his mother. otacon who when it's 2014 will make you the solid eye and the octocamo suit and the mk. ii to keep you safe and say to you, don't hurt anyone, snake. will say to you: i'll follow you wherever you go, like this. otacon who blubbers like a baby and cries too much and who, when it's 2009 in new york city, you have to say to, go rescue the hostages, because if you don’t he’s going to crumple in on himself, a dying star. this is how you love, you don’t say to him, and how i love, because you showed me how. wrap your arms around his shoulders and hope it’s enough.
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lokh · 3 months ago
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unfortunately im about to start looking like this
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bonefall · 1 year ago
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this is a bit of a random question, but is there any character you dislike, that you havent talked about before?
I feel like I'm pretty outspoken about characters I dislike! Plus, for as hard as I hit my usual suspects, my distaste for them comes from how much I yearn for a version where it was all on purpose.
Like me and my eternal rival, Bramblestar. Im locked in combat with this man, in a cosmic sense. If I were a necromancer I would resurrect his wretched corpse because I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing his face again. Nemesis...
I guess I haven't spoken much about the absolute trainwrecks that were Sharp Hail and Jackdaw's Cry, from DOTC. They're such small characters that there's not much TO talk about
But it's SUPER fucked up that they just dropped Jackdaw's Cry implying Thunder was "stealing milk" from his wife and never mentioned it again. What the hell was the point of THAT when you're only going to stress how sad it is that he died fighting the sister he hadn't spoken about in like 2 books?
And Sharp Hail is an abusive stepdad who falls out of the sky to throttle Sun Shadow in a bonus chapter. WHY? What is the POINT of all these sudden adoption jabs??
Them aside I've spoken about the cats I dislike. Thistleclaw, Sandgorse (complicated), Sagewhisker, Raggedstar, Clear Sky, Gray Wing... and arcs that were a massive disappointment, with Leopardstar, Hawkfrost, Blackstar, Wind Runner, Thunder, even Firestar post-Darkest Hour.
OH Mudclaw I guess. I think he was a fine character but Mudclaw stans are so annoying I've begun to start actually hating him. It's only partially the writing/character's fault, I'm just developing a Pavlovian distaste of him lmaooo
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mazojo · 1 year ago
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Of all the languages Meme could speak and she chose the truth
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kodared · 4 months ago
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✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰
fears not enough they have to tear him apart.
Chapter 1/?
Wordcount: 2,057
➀ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★
★ - Also on AO3! - ★
https://archiveofourown.org/works/58879087/chapters/150070549
The cottage you moved into was poorly constructed and had many openings to various rooms because of the peeling wallpaper. It was partially why you chose to reside there after many weeks of venturing the forest once your parents kicked you out. 
You lived with your parents in a tree until they decided it was time for you to make your way in this world. Oh, how you could imagine the looks on their faces if you told them the mess you got yourself into this time. 
Your family chose the safety of trees and burrows rather than living in the walls of creatures that could kill you without so much as a flick of a wrist. 
You wouldn't call yourself one for adventure, quite the opposite. Humans terrified you to your very core. You’ve been a first-hand witness to what they are capable of. When the cottage was in the process of being built you watched many trees torn and splintered by their impossibly large machines. 
You rather despised humans. What you didn't despise however was routine and having access to food much easier than foraging. 
Life in the cottage was relatively peaceful, it was about as peaceful as you could get for being only a few inches tall. You swore your species was doomed to fail if it wasnt for humans influence. 
The scientist who lived in the cottage was paranoid, that much was obvious. Even when you first moved in after being kicked out he stayed up much too late and consumed too much coffee to be considered sane. You brushed it off because, after a few days of scoping out the walls of the cottage, you realized he had a very precise schedule that made borrowing easy. 
He would wake up early, and go to bed late. Usually uttering to himself before going down into his basement to do who knew what. It gave you a lot of time to yourself, and a human with a predictable schedule was hard to come by. Most had kids or animals, both very dangerous to someone like yourself. Fortunately, this human only seemed to have one friend who came around periodically, but they stayed downstairs. 
You had noticed that night you were running low on thread and crackers, and the human was in his basement. Of course, night turned into day much quicker than you predicted. 
The shock and horror of hearing the vending machine door open while you were in the middle of climbing up into his shelf literally by a thread still shuddered through your body even now. 

So what if you screamed and ran off despite him shouting for you? So what if you have to move homes? It didn't even matter much to you that when you let go of the thread you landed on your foot and wrist wrong. 
The faint memory of his hand reaching for you did rattle you to your core, despite how much you insisted you could escape him even if he did grab you. 
The way his eyes bared into your very soul, the way even his shadow in the early dawn lighting engulfed your entire body. Your shaking hands as you pried the loose wood plank off the wall just as you could feel his body heat emitting from his hand radiating on your back. 

 
 
You push the memories away lest you give yourself another panic attack. You tried to not let it bother you much, though you would miss the plentiful amounts of jellybeans and other snacks he kept on the shelves. 
No. What bothered you the MOST was the fact every little detail, every little move you made before you ran off into the wall, was now being documented. 
You looked down from the crack in the wall with a grimace. There was a foul taste in your mouth as you saw the human below taking vivid and rigorous notes while sitting at the kitchen table. His pen scratched the page so hard you believed it would rip. 
The red journal he carried with him was the bane of your existence. If any information about you or your species was going to become mainstream, it would doom your life as you knew it. Not to mention shatter any dreams you had of a normal life. 
You weren't in any position to do anything about it yet. The effects of the adrenaline pumping through your veins were slowly ebbing away. Leaving a dull ache in your head and a nasty sprain on your wrist and ankle. 
With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and made the long trek back to your room. Deciding that before leaving, you had to get rid of the page in his journal. He had to leave it unguarded at some point. 
Your room in the walls wasnt much, but you spent a lot of time working on it. You hollowed out a space inbetween a few support beams and insulation and put a few pieces of cloth on the walls. 
The pin cushion you called a bed practically screamed your name as you pushed your makeshift cloth ‘door’ open. You broke off a piece of a cracker you swiped a few days prior and shoveled it into your mouth before collapsing on the bed. 
Getting that journal was your only hope. Ignoring the chalky residue left in your mouth by the dry cracker sleep soon found you. 

 
That man did not leave his journal for one moment. 
It's been two days since your last encounter with the human. You tried so hard to stay patient in the walls and bide your time until you could get ahold of the cursed page, but your rations were running short. 
So you threw on your satchel and stabbed a needle in your pants just in case he was out. You used to not carry it, but you weren't taking any chances. 
Pressing your hands to your eyes you tried to gather courage as you walked in the dark pathways of the walls. You tried not to think about what would happen if you were caught by the scientist. 
You’ve seen him take creatures like yourself down in his basement, and they never come back up. 
Despite this, you still for whatever reason chose to stay. You wished you never stayed. More than anything you wished you had just found a nice, abandoned burrow like your cousin had, and stayed in the woods. 
In your frustration you kicked a piece of rock, it hit a nearby pipe with a satisfying twang. 
There were more predators in the woods but atleast they would just kill you. There was no telling what the human would do if he caught you. 
Taking a deep breath you consoled yourself, if you played your cards right and stayed out of sight this would turn out like it usually did. 
You would take a few crackers and leave, that's all you had to do. 
As you pressed your hands against the wall and shakily pushed, you felt the loose wood disconnect with a satisfying crack while you poked your head out.
You squinted as the bright light from the kitchen flooded into the wall and onto your face.  
Everything seemed completely normal, which should have relaxed you, but it merely put you more on edge. 
This human wasnt normal. There was no reason everything on the countertop was tidied away. He usually left dishes in the sink, and from where you stood you saw none. 
You where about to slink back into the wall and go out a different time before you heard his voice. 
“...It was bipedal!- have you ever-” 
You were quick to pull yourself back into the wall, your hand slipping on the wood and giving yourself a splinter. You sucked in a breath and held your yelp as you heard footsteps coming closer. 
“I know, you haven't stopped talking about it for three hours..” 
The other human's voice sounded southern, you recognized it as the main resident's friend, or ‘associate’ he sometimes said. 
You could hear them picking up various glasses and cups, if you had to guess the humans were probably making more coffee. Your hypothesis was only confirmed as you heard the cursed machine whirr to a start. 
You finally let out the breath you were holding as you felt the splinter that now lodged itself in your palm. Wincing as you continued to listen. 
“I know, I just wish I was able to capture it! I could put a more accurate sketch, what if its the only one of its kind?” 
Predictable as always. 
“Ford, I'm sure you already went scarin’ the thing half to death. I wouldn't be shocked if it left,” 
Ford. The scientist was named Ford. As you picked at the splinter you internally berated the name, yours wasnt much better but atleast your parents loved you enough to not name you Ford. 

Maybe you where being a bit mean. 
“I doubt it, more than likely I can catch it again early morning. It seemed shocked I was there, it more than likely has a schedule it keeps to.” 
Or maybe you weren't mean enough. Seriously who did this guy think he was? You had half a mind to march out of the wall and stab his stupid hand.
You didn't bother listening to the rest of their conversation, too preoccupied with picking at the splinter. Trying to pull it out with little to no light proved itself to be difficult. 
You could head back to your room, but the string lights in there had limited battery, and you tried to save it for only special occasions. 
To your relief, the pair left a few minutes later. Only when you heard the vending machine door clunk shut did you press against the wood plank. 
Using the small sliver of light provided you pulled the splinter out with your nails, flicking it away before turning and looking at the counter. 

He left a dish. 
A dish in front of where he last saw you. A dish full of various snacks, ranging from two jellybeans to crackers and cheese. 
You weren't some domesticated house pet. You scowled at the dish as if it had personally scalded you before walking past it. 
You walked quietly despite there being no reason to. Wishing you had your fish hook and thread to get up on the higher shelf. 
You could manage without it though. You only made it a few months prior so you were skilled enough to find some scraps on the counter usually. 
To your dismay, though he seemed to have done a thorough cleaning, and without your hook you had no way to reach the shelves above to gather your food. 
You pressed on and walked over to the sink, careful to balance on the edge. You looked at the faucet and walked over to the handle. Gently and carefully push it just a smidge before taking out a small thimble you used for water. 
After drinking your fill and putting the thimble away, you turned the water off. 

Not fully though, he could deal with a leaky faucet for a few hours. 
You where going to go back empty-handed until your stomach growled looking at the crackers he left out. 
Surely taking one wouldn't hurt, if you left a message. 
You picked up one and stuffed it into your bag, contemplating taking a jellybean but deciding against it. Right before you went into the wall you kicked the dish off of the counter. Shattering on the floor with a satisfying clatter. 
Snickering to yourself you slinked off into the walls. You’d check back on the human that night to see if he left his journal on his desk this time. 

 
A few hours later Ford had finally gotten to a stopping point with his research. Thoughts of the little creature in his walls beckoned at his mind as he rode the elevator up. 
He sent Fiddleford home with a goodnight before practically sprinting into the kitchen, seeing the mess left by the mischievous thing. 
One thing on the counter caught his eye in particular. 
As he picked it up he examined it thoroughly. 
A small splinter of wood, ever so slightly tinged at the edge with red. 
“...Fascinating..” 
---
Thank you for reading!! Ill more than likely be updating this when i can, but be assured Chapter 2 is already being written with plans for three others!
Hope you Enjoyed!! My Askbox is always open if you want to hear me ramble more about borrowers! V●ᎄ●V
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levemetal · 5 months ago
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I love fics that have the Shen twins as twin peaks lords of Qing Jing, but let's be real: If there is one peak which SHOULD have two whole peak lords, it should be An Ding, the literal peak of logistics and paperwork.
Just feels like it would make An Ding's workload more manageable.
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momentsbeforemass · 10 months ago
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Fear
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“Fear is the pain of anticipated evil.”
Aristotle said it. The moment you hear it, you know it’s true. Because Aristotle was just spelling out something that all of us know on a gut level.
That things could go wrong? It’s a source of fear for all of us. Because we all know that it’s going to happen. The only questions are what and how often.
What makes it worse? Knowing that people will turn on you.
Either by taking advantage of you when it all goes wrong. Or making sure everyone knows about it. Maybe both.
Scattering the pieces of everything that broke. As if nothing ever went wrong in their lives.
When someone you thought was a friend turns on you? It’s even worse.
When it all falls apart, you find out who your true friends are, who loves you unconditionally.
Jeremiah shows us time and again that no matter whether it all breaks down because of something that happened to us. Or it’s something that we did to ourselves. Maybe both.
No matter why things went wrong.
God still loves you. Unconditionally.
No matter who turns on you.
God won’t. 
No matter how things fall apart.
God will always be there for you.
God will always help you pick up the pieces.
Today’s Readings
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dearansur · 2 months ago
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going back to drawing feels so scary because it's confronting myself and what i am and what i failed and making peace with the fact that my life fucking sucks and i'm a failure who is rotting in poverty under fascism and occupation and that i'm too deep into my head and too overwhelmed with my shame to recognize it all and strive to be better instead of feeling like i need a gun to my head and a bullet to hit me straight in the brain.
huh. anyways
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mars-ipan · 2 months ago
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interesting to me how when i turned 19 i was kinda terrified bc i was like “oh shit this is my last year as a teenager
.. i won’t be a teenager after that
 i wanted to be a teenager for all of my childhood and now that part’s almost Over. aaaaugh” and now approx. 9 months later i cannot fucking WAIT to stop being a teenager oh my god i am ready to move on. 20s please i would like to be in them. i am done being 19 thank you !!!
#marzi speaks#it’s . probably bc of the vasculitis thing#which like. while it is a traumatic thing that i need to work through and plan on going to therapy about#it also put a LOT of things into perspective for me#and like actually i do not think i am afraid of growing up anymore !#i mean i still have like. the imposter syndrome and the fear of getting overwhelmed and falling behind#that’s not gonna go away overnight that’s been there for as long as i can remember#BUT!! i know deep down that i can figure it out now.#bc i figured out a lot. i figured out how to gauge my physical well being#i figured out how to be someone who can regularly make phone calls without crying#i figured out pharmacies. and i’m figuring out how insurance works#and appointments and withdrawing from school and reapplying to school#and all of the lifestyle changes that come with having an autoimmune disease#i’m learning self advocacy. i’m learning how to respond when people treat me poorly (always accidentally so far)#yeah getting my license has been hard and slow just bc i have all the anxiety shit about it. but i AM putting that effort in#i dunno it’s just. adult responsibilities are horrifying and the prospect of existing independently in our current society#is horrifying. and i think i’ll always be scared.#but i used to think i might not be able to handle it. that i would fall apart#i know now that i won’t. i will find a way to move forward and be happy. because that’s what i’ve always done#if i can take the scariest couple of months in stride the way that i have. then i think i can handle it#anyways. 19 was eventful enough can i be 20 now. i think being 20 would be good for me#still a Weird thing to think about. two whole decades. but like i can do it methinks
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