#this is probably my last post on this blog goodbye cruel world

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt2

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Grid x Fem!Reader

warnings: cursing, pregnancy, shit-talking, grid baby

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

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It had been 5 months since my last encounter with Logan. Well, the last time I actually talked to him, if you would consider the argument we had as “talking”.

After I stormed out the house with my suitcase I made my way to my Best Friend Lily’s house and told her everything. Since Lily lives with Alex, he obviously heard everything that happened and absolutely reamed Logan a new asshole.

Lily and Alex were nice enough to let me stay at their place until I was able to get on my own feet again. Lily was adamant on making me stay until after the baby was at least 6 months old, so that I could comfortably move everything out without dealing with either a pregnancy bump or a newborn that would need constant attention.

-

Today was the Miami Grand Prix and I attended to cheer on my Grid family and the second Logan’s eyes fell on me, he sprinted over, his hand immediately touching my stomach

“oh my baby, how are you my love? how’s she doing for you?” Logan said coming in to try and place a soft kiss to my lips, only for me to step back “cmon babe. i’ve done everything to win you back, let me just be with you. i need to be in my daughters life” Logan said with pleading eyes.

“and you will be, just not with me in yours,” i say, removing his hands from my bump “and don’t touch my stomach without my permission, especially when it’s hot outside.”

Logan looked shocked at my comment but tried to shrug it off putting his hands right back on my stomach “my pretty girl, tell your mommy to forgive daddy, daddy didn’t mean what he said”

“Hey! She fucking said to stop touching her.” a voice yells, Logan turn to see who interrupted his time with both his love and his baby

“Listen Lando, this doesn’t concern you.” Logan scoffed attempting to put his hands right back on my stomach but Lando quickly stepped in front of me.

“It actually does concern me, seeing as you’re touching my girlfriend AFTER she told you to stop.” Lando’s voice stern, absolutely shocking Logan

“your girlfriend?” Logan looked sad, heartbroken and utterly confused

“yes, MY girlfriend,” Lando started “The woman you let slip away, the woman who might be carrying your baby but will probably see me as her dad, the woman you mistreated, the woman of my dreams and my beautiful, strong, confident girlfriend”

My hormones were absolutely not on my side because the more Lando went on, the more I started crying.

I’ve never felt this type of love with Logan, I mean yeah in the beginning of the relationship it was pure bliss, but after the first 2 months it was just like we were roommates that fucked and occasionally told the other we loved them whenever we were in private.

In public however, we seemed like the happiest ever, like there was nothing wrong in our world. That we were obsessed with each other, like the world would stop revolving if we were conjoined at the hip.

I can admit, for 2 weeks after my breakup with Logan and blurting out that I was once again with child, I couldn’t stop thinking about how cruel it would be to my daughter to not be with her father and for a second I almost went running back to Logan and begged him to forgive me for my outburst and to take me back. When I went to confide in Lando and ask him if I should go back, he told me that was the dumbest thing I could’ve done because if it is beneficial for my daughter it would be the worst years of my life knowing her dad thinks so lowly of me.

Lando was really my rock during my whole breakup and pregnancy, he encouraged me to move out of Lily and Alex’s house and into his in case something happened in the middle of the night, if I needed something and just because he overall thought I shouldn’t have to live alone while I was pregnant.

Lily thought it was weird that I moved into Lando’s place just 2 weeks after moving in with her but she made me promise to go over to hers at least once a day so she could talk to her niece.

I was quickly pulled out of my daze when I felt a small tug on my arm. It was Lando urging me into the McLaren garage after Logan started throwing a hissy fit.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Lando said with a light chuckle to ease the mood, placing his hand on the small of my back before quickly yanking it away. “Sorry, I know you just yelled at Logan for touching you without permission, and I just did the same thing. Can I touch you?” Lando asks, genuinely upset that he did the same thing I reprimanded Logan for, the only difference? I craved Lando’s touch, whereas Logan’s sent a nasty shiver down my spine.

Both my hands taking both of Lando’s. One hand I guide to the small of my back and the other I guide to my bump and I watch as Lando’s eyes widen.

This is the first time I’ve let someone other than Lily touch my belly and Lando was determined to take in this moment. The look of excitement evident on his face as he feels her kick.

“OH MY GOSH, DID YOU FEEL THAT? I mean- obviously you felt that, she’s inside of you but SHE KICKED Y/N/N, SHE KICKED!” Lando screamed in excitement, almost like a kid in a candy shop.

The look of adoration and love on Lando’s face made my heart almost burst. I drowned out all the excited squeals from Lando as I pulled him in for a kiss, smiling into it.

“You’re so cute when you’re excited,” I start saying before seeing the engineers ushering Lando to his car "Okay lover boy, give me a kiss and go to your car" I said pulling him right back into a quick kiss.

"Can I give baby a kiss too?" Lando asks with pleading eyes

"LANDO, GET A MOVE ON MATE! RACE STARTS IN 5" Oscar yells from the inside of his car before putting his helmet on

I chuckled before giving Lando a nod watching him as he quickly leans down and presses a firm kiss on the top of my belly before dedicating the race to my unborn daughter.

Dedicating a race to someone is a big task, if you end with a bad position or DNF it makes everything awkward but I have faith that Lando will end up on the podium.

-

We’re now down to the last 10 laps and the gap from Lando in first and Max in second just keeps getting bigger and bigger. The anxiety I’m feeling right now is worse than when I was waiting for my pregnancy test results.

The amount of laps only decreased and with every lap down, the gap grew. Once we were down to the last lap and the gap from Lando to Max was at a whopping 7.7 seconds everyone knew that Lando had secured his first win, he just needed to not fuck up and crash.

Once the checkered flag came into view, tears welled up in my eyes. Not only had Lando secured his first Formula 1 win but he had prior dedicated this race to my babygirl.

As the team ran to the pit lane, Zak came to view and offered me his arm which I gladly took as we made our way to where Lando would soon be.

"Lando's lucky to have you by his side, I know he dedicated his race to the little one," Zak starts. I can tell Zak wants to add more but he doesn't want to overstep a boundary, but with a nod of approval from me, he continues. "How do you feel about this whole Lando-Logan situation?"

"What do you mean?" I cock an eyebrow at him

"I mean with Logan being your daughters biological father but Lando being more of a full-time dad than Logan'll be?" a confused look falls over my features as I think over Zak's question. "I mean no disrespect Y/N, just curious."

"No, no I mean. We wouldn't be in this situation if Logan hadn't acted the way he did, so if he doesn't see his daughter as often as he wants that's his problem." I said nonchalantly shrugging. "But no more Logan talk. Lando actually finished the race and finished first, I think we should all celebrate." I say as I unlock my arm from Zak's as I watch Lando get put down from the crowd of McLaren engineers as he makes his way to me, wrapping an arm around me pulling me into a big sweaty hug.

"Oh my gosh Lando, I love you but you smell incredibly sweaty and it's gonna make me throw up." I say half joking as I gag, not even noticing the slip up. Not at least until I see Lando smile impossibly harder, " what?"

"You said you love me" I didn't even have a chance to process that I did in fact say that I loved him because Lando pulled me into a hot and steamy kiss, one that for sure would also make the news in a few minutes.

"I mean I didn't think that I'd be able to love, especially not after Logan. You changed that for me, but my god, please get on the podium and shower. I'm going to throw up." I say with love, adoration, proudness and sickness in my voice all at once.

"I love you so much more. You and baby" Lando says before pressing another quick kiss to my lips before being dragged to the cool down room

-

After the podium celebration and a shower Lando makes his way to me, pressing a tender kiss to my lips before asking me "All of the grid some team principals are going to this one bar, it's karaoke night. I really want to go but if you're not feeling up to it, we can just stay in at the hotel."

"Baby, you just scored your first win. Of course we can go." I say as I put my hand on his cheek before moving it to his hair, running my finger though it.

-

When we got to the bar we automatically spot the rest of the grid. I mean how could we not, they took up half the bar space?

"Baby, you can go grab a seat, I'm gonna grab us drinks, and before you say anything. Yes, I'm getting you a f/d." Lando said pressing a kiss to my temple.

"You know me so well. I'm gonna go say hi to everyone." I said as I squeezed Lando's hand before making my way to the group of drivers, WAGS, and team principals.

The second I was spotted by the WAGS they all made a beeline towards me peppering me with questions and asking if they could touch my tummy, all of which I gave permission to. I look at the rest of the table, waving at all of them and they all wave back knowing it might be a minute before they get a proper 'hello' because of all the attention my daughter is getting. I had made brief eye contact with Logan offering a tight-lipped smile before feeling a tap on my shoulder.

"Here you go, pretty girl" Lando says as he offers me my f/d which I gladly accept before looking back at Logan, only to find that his spot is empty. I don't give it much thought before I indulge myself in a conversation with the rest of the WAGS as Lando goes and has individual conversations about his win.

"Ladies and gentleman can I have your attention?" some lady says into the mic "the karaoke machine is now on and we already have our first request!" the bar erupts in claps and whoops as we all wonder who the first singer would be

"Singing 'Too Good to Say Goodbye' by Bruno Mars, put your hands together for Logan Sargeant"

My face fell as the song starts

"I've made mistakes, I could have treated you better. I let you get away. There goes my happily ever after." Logan starts, staring into my soul

"Tell me why, why can't we try and start again? This can't be how our story ends. You're more than my girl, you're my best friend. Tell me you remember when, ooh, I was your man and you were my girl It was you and me against the world" tears start welling in my eyes as he continues singing.

A firm hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to see that its Zak

"Don't you love Bruno Mars, why aren't you singing?" I stare at him, the tears on my waterline threatening to fall. I don't answer him though, I just turn my body back to the man on the stage.

"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye." The whole grid is staring at Logan in shock. They all know what he did and he has the nerve to sing this song to me on stage?

"Yeah, I'm still in love with you darlin'. I know you feel the same Oh, what's the point of both of us being broken hearted? I pray it's never too late" Me? Still in love with you? In your dreams Sargeant

"Girl won't you listen? It's you that I'm missin' . Take my hand, I wanna go, I wanna go. If we're gonna fight this fight for better days. I know we're gonna make it. This is the chance, let's take it." From another person's perspective, this would seem like a nice grand gesture to win back the woman of his dreams. I mean who wouldn't want their man to sing a song about wanting a second chance after he royally screwed up?

"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye goodbye Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye" The songs ends and half the bar erupts on claps and whistles as Logan stares in my eyes before talking into the mic.

"Y/N, baby, I know I screwed up. I'm trying to make this work. For you and our babygirl, just please give me a chance. I don't ask for much, really. Just a chance to undo my wrongs, a chance to make you the happiest woman on earth, a chance to rebuild our family. I want a chance to be in my daughter's life" Logan said sniffling as he wiped his nose before continuing "I really hope you liked this and it's enough to change your mind." Logan finished as he hopped off the stage making his way to me

Lando's protective side started to show a bit because the second he picked up that Logan was making his way to me he instinctively stepped in front of me, only backing up when I rested my hand on his bicep.

"Why? Why would you assume that I'll get back with you after that Logan?" I ask, my eyes raking his face for any type of clues. I don't know what I was expecting to come out of his mouth, but the reply he gave me wasn't it. It also not only made my blood boil, but everyone who knew about the situation's blood boil.

"Zak said you would"

I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONEEEEEE <3333

Lemme know if I should keep going!!!

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @eddieharrington

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[biolizardboils]

Sorry to do this so suddenly, but I'm putting all my blogs on hold until further notice. I might log in to like or private-reblog some posts for reference, but that'll be it.

The short reason is that I wanna work on myself. Mostly personally, but with a side of visual art skills.

The long version is under the cut. Content Warnings: current geopolitical events, mental health.

So I'm writing this part for two reasons: so I can send it to friends and others when they ask what I'm doing; and to remind myself why I'm doing it, in case I'm compelled to come back too early. This is gonna be a ramble; I'm writing this after midnight, cus I'll forget or lose the nerve in the morning.

You likely already know what this is about from the emoji tag. You'll also notice that I won't mention any proper names in this post. That's one of the issues I'm stepping away to work on.

I've been quiet about it ever since it started, for a few reasons. Unfamiliarity with the history behind it, fear of spreading misinfo or propaganda, doomscrolling tendencies. For months, I've done the daily click and left it at that.

(Speaking of, last month I found out that the site doesn't track cookies or whatever its called? TL;DR: you can click as many times as devices you have. That's 3 for me.)

But anyway, this week it stopped feeling like enough. From this post's date and what I usually post about, you can probably guess what broke the camel's back.

And... I feel guilty that this is what broke it. And I feel guilty that I feel guilty. It's not my struggle; I'm a bystander. But I chose to be, and I can't tell how much of it was for my own mental health, and how much was denial, selfishness, misplaced optimism.

I want to believe people aren't so cartoonishly cruel. I want to believe people do their research before acting on or speaking about these things. I want to believe people can treat these things with the delicate nuance they deserve. I want to believe that one side destroying innocents on the other is inexcusable, no matter the historical context, and that the rest of the world's powers will act to stop it.

I'm scared of how much I still want to believe it, despite reality. I'm scared of how long it took me to feel the appropriate horror. I've had intrusive thoughts and pits in my stomach all week, and it's compounded by the guilt that I'm only having them now.

I still want to believe some things were misguided, or made before the situation, or will be fixed later. And I can't tell anymore what's a coping mechanism, and what's just a selfish hope that it'll all be fine.

So... I'm gonna get better coping mechanisms.

I'm looking for therapists. Not just for this, but some other things that happened to stack up this week. It doesn't take much to throw off my daily functioning, and I've been holding off addressing that. Again, it's horrible that it took something like this to make me realize that.

To fill up the spare time, I'm gonna put more work into my art skills. I can finally afford better tools, so it's time I practice more professional techniques.

So, yeah. I'm leaving because I feel I can't address things like an adult, and I hope to learn how before I come back.

Thanks for reading, and goodbye for now.

[sunblastedheart]

I stanned Historia. I literally just crept this fandom for multiple years in the hopes that she would have a satisfying conclusion. And this is what I got. Lmao I feel like a 🤡

(Also RIP freckles Ymir, who was never spoken of again)

Oh yea and Historia’s story got played too 😑

[alma37]

I checked on AO3 and, a year ago today [02/02/20, for those of you who are a few hours behind France], I started posting for a deliciously wicked fandom, Dracula 2020.

So, to mark the occasion, I decided to post here (on AO3 later today), a little one-shot I thought about a few days ago. I wanted to put it in one of my wip, but it didn’t quite fit. I still liked the idea, though, and I needed to write it.

This is also kind of a gift for @hopipollahorror and @lady-of-the-wolves, my steadiest supporters of late. Thank you, girls, I am not sure I would have started writing again without your support.

For @thebeautyofdisorder, I know you had a rough year and I wish you a great 2021. We have so many tastes in common, It seems I continuously reblog from you. I am well aware it won’t make your troubles disappear, but I hope this little piece will make you forget them for 5 minutes (and that it won’t be perceived as further punishment or what’s the phrase? Cruel and unusual punishment!😉) .

For my other mutuals, I know we don’t talk much, if at all, but I am glad you came to see and stayed.

And, of course, for all my followers, occasional readers and everyone else who took the time to come and check my little nothing of a blog, leave comments, reblogs and likes. Thank you guys.

And now, i leave you with a small piece I had great fun to write. As usual.

I apologise for the long-ish introduction.

*************

This is a Dragatha, sometimes in the future (theirs, not ours; perhaps it is our present, in fact, who knows?). Dracula turned Agatha into a vampire. A long time before this fic.

Some sort of enemies with benefits.

And it actually answers to this prompt. I think.

Title : A [h]arrowing evening

Fandom : Dracula TV 2020

Relationship : Agatha x Dracula

Rate : I’d say T or light M

Words : I don’t know, I didn’t count, go check on AO3 when it’s posted!

- Come on, Agatha. Just admit it : you like me!

The former nun turned vampire, Dracula's most fervent opponent, was backed up against the wall, a small wooden arrow in her hand. Why did she decide to come and see him in his own apartment, she’ll never know. Her nemesis was crowding her, a triumphant smile on his face. She defended herself.

- Stop being so arrogant, Count. I don't like you.

- Oh but I think you do. Very much so.

His growing smirk, his roving hands and, mostly his acumen were too much for her. Suddenly blinded by years of pent up rage and frustration, she drove the arrow into his chest with ferocious intent. The small stake slid under his ribs upwards towards his heart.

For a moment, they stayed still face to face, Dracula's smile slowly fading, morphing into an expression of utter stupefaction, as his eyes fell on the weapon thrust into his thorax. Annoyed, Agatha pushed him backwards. To her absolute consternation, he stumbled with a groan, then bent over, his hand reaching blindly for the small piece of wood. His face was now wearing an expression of agony before his legs started to give out under him. With horror, Agatha watched him slowly falling to his knees before his upper body followed suit and he went down like a dead weight. By chance or instinct, he fell to his side, only just avoiding the stake from driving through his heart. Once on the floor, he started writhing in pain, barely able to hold his screams. Finally, Agatha understood : the arrow must have stopped short of piercing the heart, but was probably touching it if his convulsions were any indication.

After a moment of indecision, Agatha grabbed his shoulders to hold him flat on his back then straddled him.

- Stop squirming. You'll only succeed in piercing your heart yourself.

- As if you didn't intend to do it!" Her victim hissed through his pain.

Agatha opened her mouth to retort, then closed it, before she finally replied, surprised with herself :

- I... don't know.

His face was deformed by the unusual pain he was in. She supposed he probably hadn't felt this bad in centuries. Serves him right, but... His strained voice made her jumped out of her thoughts.

- Whatever you intend to do, Agatha, please do it now. It is unbearable.

At his begging tone, the younger vampire froze for a long time, undecided : finish him off, like she promised herself a long time ago, as it was a chance she certainly wouldn't have again, or remove the arrow and stop the bleeding, against all her principles?

Her nemesis was in a state of anguish she had never seen him before. He was shaking so hard, trying to control his body.

But he wasn't begging anymore, just waiting for her decision. She could see in his eyes the torture he was enduring. He still didn't utter another sound.

And she realised that, as much as she thought she hated him, she couldn't bring herself to just end his life, as lifeless as it was.

He was not only a unique creature, he was also the only one who understood her and she realised with a shock that she came to care about him in a way that prevented her from driving the small arrow all the way through his heart. She actually liked their fighting : it was invigorating and, yes, fun. They hadn't really tried to kill each other for years now. His half-hearted attempts to get rid of her, lately, was his way of flirting, she supposed. And apparently, she thought in dismay, became hers too.

But the biggest blow came when she finally realised she actually wanted to tame him somehow or maybe convince him to redeem himself in some ways, which was barely thinkable, much less doable. She just wanted him. Full stop. And annihilating him forever didn't suit her purpose anymore.

- Whenever you want, darling." The count groaned through gritted teeth, his brow drained in sweat.

At last, Agatha came to a decision and, instead of doing what her conscience was telling her, she chose to follow her heart : she wrapped her hand around the piece of arrow that stuck out from his chest and pulled it out without warning.

She was thrown out from his lap by his violent recoil as he screamed out of his lungs in pain. Agatha, not deterred, scrabbled back to him and pinched the wound to stop the bleeding. That last part was easy, as Dracula had promptly passed out.

When she understood he wasn't going to wake up any time soon, she put him to bed and took a book, while keeping watch over him, berating herself all night long for her weakness.

At dawn, the older vampire slowly emerged from unconsciousness. When he opened his eyes, he looked around as if searching for something - or someone. When he found her watching over her book, he started asking in a rough voice : "What..." He cleared his throat several times before trying again :

- What happened?

Agatha lifted an eyebrow.

- Don't you remember?

Dracula began shaking his head :

- I don't... I seem to remember flirting with you and... Ah!" His face cleared. "Yes! You tried to kill me.

Agatha shrugged.

- And I would have succeeded this time.

Dracula straightened up with a groan. Agatha, taking pity on him, piled up a few pillows behind his back and helped him get a more comfortable position on the bed. When she tried to sit back on her armchair, the Count held on to her hand, so she was either obliged to sit on the bed or tried to shake his grip. She chose the easy path and sat next to him.

- So why didn't you finish me off?You had me at your mercy, you could have cleared this world of my evil presence.

Agatha didn't look at him but rather at their joined hands.

- I.. I don't know.

- You would have missed me!

Agatha snapped back.

- Don't be ridiculous!

Dracula smiled his devilish smile.

- You, Agatha van Helsing, like me!

- I most certainly do not!" Agatha protested, outraged. She tried to remove her hand from his, but he was holding fast.

- Well, I wouldn't blame you, you know. I am probably... Definitely head over heels in love with you after last night's little demonstration.

Agatha finally pulled her hand out of his, and stood up, shaking her head.

- You are a...

- monster?

-... beast! And obviously better. So I am leaving. Goodbye, Count Dracula.

Dracula reached for her once more :

- No, wait!

Agatha sighed, annoyed :

- What?

- You could at least kiss it better.

The former nun was about to will him to hell but something in his apparent casualness made her change her mind. She came back to sit on the bed and, after barely an hesitation, she straddled him. She felt him tensed momentarily, probably a reminder of the previous night. But he relaxed when she gently unbuttoned his shirt. She glanced at him and smiled when she saw his look of intense concentration turned towards her. She bent over and she licked the disappearing scar under his ribs. She felt his entire body shudder with pleasure, which made her smile grow larger. She had cleaned him the previous night, so there was no blood to tempt her. His all body was temptation enough. She nibbled at the scar then soothed it with her lips and tongue. Her nemesis had grown rigid from repressed desire. She finally moved from the scar to make her way upwards with slow, languorous and arousing kisses.

The first time he tried to touch her, she took his hands and flattened them back on the bed. The second time, she just held onto them.

The third time, she felt his eagerness wouldn't be denied, so she deftly evaded his grasp before he could close in on her. She moved swiftly out of the bed and put some distance between them, so that he could not reach her fast enough.

- And that's about all the kisses you'll ever have from me. Get a rest, Count Dracula. I will come and check on you tonight.

Without waiting for an answer, she left him in a state of obvious arousal, but laughing at her cunning.

- I can't wait." He called after her. He couldn't resist having the last word. Agatha shook her head in disbelief, but she was smiling.

*********************

Soooo, what did you think? (If it’s bad, please don’t tell me! 😉)

Anyway, I just really really wanted her to stab him at close range and truly physically HURT him (like Zoe, in TDC, but more purposely, if you know what I mean).

For the arrow, I imagine she has a small-ish one, like those used for a crossbow, except it is completely made of wood, even the tip. Something like that...

But, well, you know me : I always prefer a happy (-ish) ending. Reality’s sad enough. We don’t need it into fiction. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it.

If you really liked it, give me a shout and I’ll post the little follow-up I just had an idea of. Which is more on the comedy side (as in funny).

[shriekthemighty]

High School (and Middle School) Never Ends

For years I have occasionally thought back to the videos that made my youth. Salad Fingers, Cat with Hands. Spoilsbury Toast Boy. The first two were amusing, if off-putting at times. Fond memories of my youth. But Spoilsbury Toast Boy is a hectic flashback mirage of deeply unsettling imagery. I like to think of myself as someone who isn’t easily scared. I found Salad Fingers amusing. Cat with Hands was mildly creepy at best. After one viewing I vowed to never watch Spoilsbury Toast Boy again.

Every time I remember Spoilsbury Toast Boy, I resolve myself to rewatch it. To prove to myself that it’s not as intensely unnerving as I remember. Every time, I forget. Like my mind is protecting me from what I have mostly forgotten. 

But today that will change. Today I will rewatch Spoilsbury Toast Boy for the first time in about a decade.

But first. Salad Fingers! I figured it was a good starting place on the creepy scale, as I can understand why some people would find it unnerving. And I’ve heard there’s been some new content since I was a kid! So let’s go!

Episode 1: Was this a youtube thing originally? That doesn’t seem right. And 11 episodes??? I feel like there were maybe 5 last time I looked? Granted, that was almost a decade ago. I’m making myself feel old. But now! The first episode!

“The feeling of rust against my salad fingers is almost orgasmic.” Iconic. THE quote that dominated my early teen years.

The rusty kettle thing feels like it’s there to just make him look like a creep, but ALSO feels like some weird foreshadowing or something. It’s been so long. idk.

Episode 2: The introduction of the finger friends! The real start, in a first watch, to indicate that Salad Fingers is maybe a bit fucked up. And the abrupt language change is interesting. This is all familiar so far.

“I like it when the red water comes out...” Okay, this is when it should probably start being unsettling? A humanoid figure is presumably burned alive while the non humanoid is getting off on impaling his finger. But. I’m not upset? This feels normal for the times? What were the early 2000′s.

Real world references to bring the weirdness home! Very good! And a finger friend now seemingly in the flesh! The episode ends with a return to the oven and the ‘fish’ about done. Still all things I remember

Episode 3: There is so much, in only the first few minutes of this video. Oh boy. Is it a product of the times, or ahead of them? Only time will tell. I don’t even have the energy to talk about ‘milk from the teat’ of Salad Fingers being produced via masochistic acts and just... I’m too tired. This is a quarantine adjacent nostalgia tour blog.

I took a break and am now restarting this the next day. The flute playing is, interesting? As is the more humanoid but clearly mutated figure being so intent on killing Salad Fingers.

Episode 4: A person is watching him so he just... goes home. I feel that.

This child loves him. Why???

A bug! Little sister.

I love the post apocalyptic implications of his house having a number on the door. And a trap! A grubby tap trap!

There is so much phallic imagery happening.

And he just... bamfs out! The poor child is sad. Riding taps into the sunset...

Episode 5: The broken phone and forgetting Hubert’s name is interesting. All still somewhat familiar. I’m pretty sure I’ve see this episode before.

Dressed as a bride and distressed. Not just a picnic, a wedding. Guests imminent!

One of the finger friends in the window does NOT like him having a new playmate!

THE BIRD. THE BIRD STOLE THE SPOON! OH NO!

The girl talking is definitely significant. Interesting

Episode 6: Someone is in the house, and the finger friends are back! He remembers Hubert’s name this time. Bye bye Jeremy!

Wash those bad thoughts away. The toilet (somehow still able to flush) knows things.

He’s eating... himself? Another Salad Fingers? Who knows. The toilet knows.

Episode 7: Floor sugar.

I can never tell if this is one of those things where there’s all some deeper meaning, or if it’s just meant to be weird and senseless. Is Kenneth actually his brother? Was there a great war? Idk, I’m drunk.

The tree “barely shuffled an inch” a way of keeping sane? Making sure all is in its place? I’m reading too much into this.

In a dress once more. I want this to be a gender thing, but I don’t think it is.

Episode 8: Filling a clearly broken radio with... metal pellets? Buckshot? And Things are happening.

Hiding in the safety cupboard with a ‘special hair” dragged across the eye. Interesting. Multiple special hairs.

By the end of this I fully expect The Revenge of Hubert Cumberdale.

Oh someone wants their hair back! A ghost??

Goodbye special hairs. The safety cupboard is the crying cupboard now.

Episode 9: The animation style seems different here. I’m not sure I saw the last episode, but I’m almost positive I haven’t seen this one.

Oh shit. Baby Yvonne.

Wtf is up with his salad fingers!!!

Use your “baby” to clean the windows and then eat a sandwich. At first I thought he didn’t want to give up Yvonne, but now I think he just realized it wasn’t a baby and came up with another reason he must have gone there?

Episode 10: WAY nicer animation immediately. This was obviously done years after the original ones.

Milford is still there and it’s Hubert’s birthday! Oh shit!

A shiny new monolith thing, here to bring salvation and the end of Salad Fingers’ world?

Oh the detail on that is HORRIFYING. I miss the low quality now.

Hubert Jason!

Well. Dr. Papanak is terrifying.

That took an unexpected turn. Poor horse.

And... more horses. Okay. Also, does Salad Fingers look older suddenly? Sounds older too.

More Salad Fingers!! Oh poor boy, he’s seeing what he would have (should have?) become. He’s all alone.

The monolith is moving!

...okay then.

Episode 11: The last episode! How will it end?

Fighting with his finger friends, so sad.

I REALLY don’t like the detail on the fingers now. Better animation is not always a good thing. Does help the creepy factor though.

New Hubert is awful and glass mother is entirely unsurprising. Let’s see where it leads!

Very Gollum/Smeagol. Interesting.

Yeah, saw that coming. Bye, Hubert!

Through the puddle, rescue Hubert! And... do that, I guess. Will Hubert seek revenge yet?

Huh. So that’s all of Salad Fingers. I enjoyed it, but I understand nothing

Spoilsbury Toastboy Time!

Episode The Title One: Oh shit it’s by the same guy! That makes sense.

Idk if I’ve ever seen this one. I watched the one titled episode 1 first.

Oh wait yes, I think I have seen this! The beetle goes into his ear and that’s why he sees beetles!

Oh. Well. Things can’t be wrong if you’re dead, I guess!

Episode 1: I technically watched this one first, so that’s important.

Already very intense. Kill grandma!

Speckled huckleberry leaves. That’s the thing that made Salad Fingers sick, I think!

Grandma burning in the fire. I remember that!

For some reason I remembered the beetles as crickets? I have a very clear memory of this.

Episode 2: Quite the young gentleman. And then straight to work! Sounds about right.

Corporate slavery seeming all normal, and back to grandma! I feel like she was a big part of why this terrified me as a teen, so let’s see.

Oh the beetles are fucking. I think one fucks grandma at some point? Yup, there it is! They’re raping grandma. Cool.

This just seems... senselessly cruel? Like, not even entertainingly grimdark. Why did this used to scare me. I’ve finished it and I’m just annoyed that I wasted my time.

Bonus: Cat With Hands!

Since I mentioned it in the intro, I figured I’d watch this one again too. I remember finding it mildly creepy. More so than Salad Fingers, but way less than Spoilsbury Toast Boy.

The guy who hasn’t spoken is the cat, right? I remember this. He just needs a tongue.

Wow this animation is BAD. But that almost makes it better? It works, for the story.

Yup, just as I remembered. I think this one is probably only scary the first time, when you don’t know what to expect.

[youngbloodseavey]

stay golden // corbyn besson

this is my “thank you for 2k followers” post. i’d like to say thank you, because i never thought this would ever be happening when i started this blog. thank you guys for supporting me and this blog, even when i don’t post or i don’t follow through with my projects. thank you. thank you for 2k. it means the absolute world and more to me. i love each and every one of you with my entire heart and more.

request: Requests are open! Yay! I have some requests that I've been storing up  just waiting for this moment. So let's say that Corbyn had this childhood friend who was also his neighbour and one day when they're like 14/15 she moves to the other side of the country and they get disconnected. She always had a crush on him and so when she finds out he's on tour like 4/5 yrs later she gets limelight tickets bc wow she doesn't think he remembers her and then they reconnect and like probably fluff who knows         

i have no fuckin idea how limelight works so like bare with me kids, and also corbyn is SINGLE in this story. S I N G L E. christina is not corbyn’s girlfriend in this story so keep that in mind tHANKS

pairing: corbyn x fem!reader

triggers: none

“why do you have to leave me?” corbyn pouted at his best friend y/n, as they laid together in the grass fields by their houses. 

the fifteen year-olds had been best friends since diapers, and had found out recently that y/n had to move all the way across the country from their home in virginia to california.

“corbs, i don’t want to move. i wanna stay here with you, and graduate, and live my life here in virginia. but my dad got this new fancy-ass job, and i can’t get out of moving,” y/n rolled over onto her stomach, now facing her blue-eyed best friend.

“trust me, the last thing i want to do right now is to leave,” she whispered, feeling the familiar sting of tears rush through her, and her eyes became watery.

“no, please don’t cry y/n,” corbyn rushed out, immediately sitting up and taking the girl into his arms. “if you cry then i’m gonna start crying.”

 the two teenagers held each other in an embrace for what felt like an eternity, not even bothering to speak to each other. all they did was enjoy each other’s presence, because soon they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a long time.

“i love you so much corb,” the girl whispered, burying her face into corbyn’s shoulder. she took in a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was her best friend. 

“i love you too y/n.” corbyn was near tears, but was determined to not show his weakness to his best friend. he gently pressed his lips to her temple, lingering for a few seconds before he pulled away.

“y/n! let’s go!” the pair jumped apart at the sound of y/n’s parents, who were loading the car with their luggage. the rest of their stuff would come later in a u-haul. 

“one second mom!” y/n yelled at her parents, who were beginning to look impatient. “hey, before i leave, i wanted to tell you something that i’ve been keeping a secret for a long time,” y/n began to start, taking corbyn’s hands in hers.

the boy’s heart began to race, as he stared into the eyes of his longtime best friend (and admittedly, his longtime crush).

“i really li-” she began, but was cut off by the honk of the car’s horn, beckoning her to go to her parents.

“i’m really gonna miss you.” a sad, tearful smile painted itself on her face. “stay golden besson, because i have no doubt that one day i’m going to see you on some big fancy billboard because you have a number one album. i know i will.” she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, squeezing his hand in hers before running off to her parents and hopping into the car. “never stop chasing your dreams. because they’ll become a reality. don’t forget me okay?”

and with a sad smile y/n y/l/n was gone, leaving a tearful corbyn besson alone in a grassy field.

||

it had been four whole years since y/n had seen corbyn. after y/n left and corbyn began to seriously pursue music, it was a bumpy ride for their friendship.

and soon enough, their friendship simply didn’t exist.

it wasn’t a malicious falling out, there was no foul words or cruel gestures. there was simply just silence. and the two of them had to deal with an empty line, a static crackle of nothingness on the other side. 

of course the thought of the other was always in the back of their minds, but both y/n and corbyn were far too scared to try and reconnect. what if what they had wasn’t the same as before?

so when y/n saw that a band called “why don’t we” was going on tour, she was immediately intrigued. and when she saw her blue-eyed ex-best friend on the front cover of the poster, only one question plagued her mind.

does corbyn remember me?

so in an attempt to answer that question and rid her head of the incessant nagging that had been continuous for the past four years, y/n took out her debit card and bought a limelight ticket to their los angeles show. 

so that’s what brought y/n here. standing near the front of the line at the venue. it was only 3:00 and there was already a line wrapped around the block, which warmed y/n’s heart to no end.

you made it corbyn, i knew you could do it.

her stomach began to tie itself in knots as time went on, each second seeming to pass on like a minute.

y/n pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her foot tapping on the pavement as she checked the time for what seemed like the thousandth occasion. 5:00. they should be letting people in for limelight soon.

she began to scroll through her phone, managing to somehow scroll deep into her camera roll. she stopped across a photo of her and corbyn from the 9th grade, smiling wistfully at their goofy grins and wide eyes. 

it was crazy to see how much had changed in four years. corbyn was now touring the world, and y/n was finishing up her first year of college. 

“oh my god, you’ve met corbyn?!” y/n was shook out of her daze by an excited voice squealing from behind her, and she turned around to see a girl no older than 16. the girl was wide-eyed and excited as ever, another girl whom y/n assumed to be her friend looking equally as hyped. y/n was irked that the two girls were looking at her phone screen without her permission, but decided to mask her irritation with a smile.

“yeah,” she began, trying to think of an excuse as to how she knew corbyn. she didn’t want people to know she was corbyn’s childhood best friend, it might cause unnecessary drama. “i met him a few years back. i’ve been a fan of him since the beginning, and i’m so insanely proud of him and i want to support him in any way possible.” well, at least she wasn’t lying. the two girls nodded.

“well what’s it like to meet him? is he nice?” one of the girls asked, and y/n began to smile. childhood memories of her and corbyn began to flood her mind, causing a warm feeling to ball up in her stomach.

“he’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. i miss him to absolute death, and i can’t wait to see him again.” y/n almost became choked up as she spoke, memories of her and corbyn overwhelming her mind. 

the girls opened their mouths to speak, but were interrupted by a man with a megaphone beginning to yell over the crowd.  

“people with a limelight ticket, please come to the front of the crowd! stand in front of the entrance doors, we will be letting you in very shortly.” y/n’s pulse began to race, and she said a quick goodbye to the girls she was talking to before making her way to the big, double-door entrance.  

her nerves were as high as they could be as she was let in through the doors, taking out her id for security to check and having her ticket scanned. 

soon enough, y/n found herself waiting on a couch in a large room, fifty or so fans milling about the room. her stomach was in a million knots, and she began to play with her fingers as a nervous habit.

she took out her phone and began to scroll aimlessly, checking her social media in an attempt to sway the nerves from her stomach. she couldn’t even focus on the posts and tweets she was looking at, instead her head was swarming with nervousness and thoughts.

what if he doesn’t remember me? what if we don’t click like we used to? what if he hates me?

the last thought absolutely terrified y/n. she knew that they fell out, but she didn’t hold any ill feelings towards corbyn for it. hopefully he feels the same way.

“oh my god they’re here!” y/n heard the high pitched squeal of a teenage girl, followed by a flurry of screams. they’re here. this is it.

“hey guys!” she heard a deep male voice, and she traced the voice back to a tall, brown haired boy. she recognized him as jonah, who was the oldest in the band.

y/n had decided to do some studying up on the rest of the band and their music before coming, just so she didn’t look like a complete idiot. and she had to admit, they made some damn good music.

the screams soon died down, morphing into loud conversation. the band members began to mill around, speaking to fans and taking photos. the couch y/n was sitting on was in the corner farthest from the boys, which she was grateful for.

she began to formulate four years of regret and apologies into a single sentence, which proved as hard as it sounds. 

y/n saw that the band began to come closer, talking to the fans and taking pictures. she was a few feet away from daniel, and she decided to push her nerves to the side and walked up to the blue-eyed boy, who was clad in a floral button down and black pants. 

daniel caught y/n’s eye, and finished up his conversation with the girls he was with to approach the nervous girl.

“hey there love!” daniel’s tooth-gap was on full display, his joyful aura almost immediately soothing some of y/n’s nerves. he enveloped her into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head. 

y/n hugged back, feeling oddly comfortable in daniel’s arms. she pulled away after a few seconds, taking in a deep breath.

“so what’s your name?” daniel asked, plopping down on the couch that y/n was previously sitting on. y/n took seat next to him sinking down into the fabric. 

“y/n,” she responded, moving herself into a comfortable position.

“well that’s a gorgeous name,” daniel responded, turning his body to face y/n. “where are you from?”

“i live in los angeles now, but i used to live in fairfax, virginia.” y/n explained her heart warming at the thought of her hometown.

“fairfax? that’s where corbyn’s from!” his bright eyes widened at the realization, and y/n nodded. “did you used to know him?” y/n nodded.

“we used to be best friends actually,” y/n mumbled, feeling a sudden amount of wistfulness wash over her.

“woah wait, really? no way,” daniel looked shell shocked. y/n nodded yet again, taking out her phone and pulling up a picture of her and corbyn from their 8th grade formal. she showed the photo to daniel, whose jaw seemed to drop even more.

“i’ve known him since we were in diapers, and we were best friends until i moved to california when we were 15,” y/n explained, pulling up another picture of her and corbyn for emphasis. “after that we kinda just, lost touch i guess.” y/n shrugged, and daniel nodded.

“so is that why you’re here? to see corbyn again?” daniel asked, and y/n moved her head up and down in a nod.

“i’m terrified though, like what if we don’t connect like we used to? i don’t know, maybe i’m overthinking things but it has been four years,” y/n trailed off, her eye catching a tuft of bright blonde hair from across the room. her heart skipped a beat at even the tiniest sight of him.

daniel was silent for a few moments, and y/n could see that the boy was deep in concentration.

“let’s go say hi to him.” daniel stood up, reaching a hand out to y/n to help her stand up from the couch. 

“w-what?” y/n stammered, her heart beginning to race.

“let’s go see him right now. you need to rip off the band-aid, and he needs a boost of confidence and energy. tour is taking a lot out of him, and maybe you’ll be the thing to give him that boost.” he replied, gesturing once more to signal for y/n to take his hand.

“fine.” she took his hand, standing up. “but if he doesn’t remember me, you have to get me out of there immediately okay?”

“deal.” daniel smiled, and began to walk with y/n over to where corbyn stood with a crowd of girls around him.

“i’ll distract the fans, you go talk to corbyn.” he gave her a bright, reassuring  smile before sauntering over to the group of fans, sending the group into a frenzy. he walked a couple steps to the right and the girls followed him and began to talk animatedly, leaving corbyn standing alone.

y/n attempted to shake the butterflies from her stomach, but to no avail.

deep breaths, deep breaths.

she walked over to corbyn, who turned to talk to another fan. she took in another breath, before raising her hand and tapping him on the shoulder.

“hey there besson.” she breathed out, staring into the same clear blue eyes that she adored so much. the same blue eyes that were filled with tears the last time she saw him four years prior.

“y/n?” his eyes scanned your face, not believing for a second what he was seeing. was this really her? was it his best friend? the girl he was so deeply in love with for practically his entire life?

he couldn’t help himself, and scooped her into a bear hug. she wrapped her legs around his waist, burying her head into the crook of his neck. he smelled of cologne, mixed with the familiar scent of him that she remembered from oh-so long ago. he smelled like corbyn.

“i missed you so much,” she mumbled feeling tears make their way to her eyes. she clung onto him like a koala bear, savoring every millisecond of the hug as if it made up for the four years of not talking to each other, and she could tell corbyn was doing the same.

“i missed you more.” his voice shook with emotion, and he too was near tears. y/n pulled away from the hug, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

“impossible.” she smiled, locking eyes with corbyn. the bright blue orbs blazed with emotion, and she could see the tears that brimmed on his lower lash line.

she looked over corbyn’s shoulder for a second, seeing that daniel was looking at the pair with a wide smile plastered on his face. he shot her a thumbs up and she laughed, burying her face in corbyn’s shoulder once more.

after a minute or so of just enjoying each other’s presence, corbyn gently set y/n down onto the ground, his hands still placed on her waist. the smallest reminder that he was still there, he was real, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“i’m so sorry for everything,” she mumbled, the tears that pooled in her eyes beginning to fall down her face in delicate strokes. “i should’ve tried harder to make our friendship work, but i gave up.”

“it’s not your fault. half of the blame is on me too. it’s both our faults, but nothing is gonna change our mistakes from the past. what’s important is that we focus on the future. our future.” he gently cupped her face in his hands, wiping away the tears with a simple stroke of his thumb.

she smiled, placing her smaller hands over his.

oh god, i really want to kiss him.

the thought ran through her head, and she almost immediately pushed it aside.

it’s been four years since you’ve seen him y/n, don’t just go kissing your old best friend and crush in front of a bunch of his fans with cellphones in their hands.

he looked into her glittering eyes, feeling the pull that he felt towards her four years prior. it was as if nothing had changed in his heart and soul.

i’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. his heart longed for her lips on his.

he slowly began to lean in, and y/n sucked in a breath and began to weigh the options in her head.

fuck it.

she leaned in, melting into his gentle touch. y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, corbyn’s doing the same. their lips were four inches apart.

three inches.

two inches.

one inch.

“okay guys!” y/n and corbyn jumped apart, both blushing a bright crimson. they had failed to notice the crowd that had formed a circle around the pair. “sadly it’s time for us to go, but we want you all to know that we love you guys so much, and we hope you enjoy the show tonight!” jonah’s voice boomed, sending a smirk in corbyn’s direction.

“i-i guess i have to get going now,” corbyn mumbled, his hand going to rub the back of his neck.

“yeah, you probably should,” y/n began to fiddle around with her fingers, rocking back and forth gently on her heels.

“i hope you enjoy the show, i’ll see you after? i can send someone out to come find you, so you can come backstage if you want?” he proposed, and y/n’s heart set alight.

“i’d love that,” she smiled shyly at the blonde boy. “break a leg besson.”

“see you later y/l/n.” he paused for a beat. “i hope i make you proud.” he bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, the spot where his lips touched tingling after he pulled away.

he shot her another heart-melting smiled before walking away, a bounce in his step.

i have no doubt that you’ll make me the proudest i’ve ever been when i see you up there corbyn. i always knew you’d make it.

[kinktae]

Dear 2018,

warning: up ahead is a long ass post with mentions of anxiety, depression, infidelity, death, very specific events that might seem silly to you but really fucked me up, optimism, and copious amounts of personification.

You were cruel.

My dad gave my dog away without telling me and while I took a nap of all things for reasons that made no sense at the moment but would soon reveal themselves as the year unfolded. My dog was my best friend and longtime confidant. I was the annoying dog owner who snapchatting their dog every day. He was my first hug when I had a bad day and my last goodnight every night as I headed off to bed. I don’t know where he is now because my father won’t tell me but 2018, you left me so incredibly hurt by my parents that I couldn’t bring myself to speak to them for two weeks.

But I learned to cope.

In the days that followed, I wrote a 20k long story. I was crying and sad and didn’t know what else to do. I spent three days writing that story, sleeping on the couch because I didn’t want to walk into my room only to see that my dog wasn’t waiting by my bed. A story I wrote could never replace seven years of companionship but it gave me something tangible to hold onto when I found myself unable to turn to my family. Camellia, the story, holds a special place in my heart because it isn’t often that from such sadness tumbles out a love story.

You were cruel.

2018 took the life of the boy I have admired and blushed over since I was eleven. He was the kind of kid who had every reason to be an asshole with how good looking and widely popular he was but... he wasn’t. He was polite and genuinely smart and loved basketball. I mean loved it. It was funny back then but in my senior year when we were asked to write poems, he chose to write it about his basketball and his team. We all cheered him on at the end of it as he slipped back into his seat in the back, a happy grin on his face. I remember how hot my face got when he let me interview him for a school project and how nice he was to me because he knew I was nervous. When I graduated, he was the one person that I was looking forward to seeing at our high school reunion. I wanted to know where he’d end up in life. I never thought that his life would come to an end.

So I took some time to reflect.

I left Tumblr for quite a bit. It’s a hard thing to understand when someone so young dies suddenly and needlessly. It was larger than just my feelings. It was as if my entire town fell silent. 2018, you left behind his family and an entire community in pain and mourning. He was not mine to mourn as a lover nor really as a friend but I mourned him as a long time classmate who put far greater good into the world than he ever did bad. I hurt for his family, his girlfriend, his friends— my friends —who knew him well and will never get closure or answers to his death because there are none. I hope heaven has a basketball court.

You were cruel.

One of your Saturday nights was when my mom walked by our guest bedroom and overheard her husband on the phone with his girlfriend of a year. It was the reason why my dad got rid of my dog and was trying so desperately to sell our house. He was trying to move us into an apartment just so that he could leave my mom and me in it. He stood in front of my mom silently as she broke down two days later and told him that she knew about his girlfriend. I knew his girlfriend, I had been to her house; she had 3 kids and a husband. My dad left my family for another family, for another country, and as much as that hurt, nothing hurt more than holding my crying mother in my arms every night because she came to the United States alone and I was all she had now. My father took everything in the house, leaving us with one bed and a couch. He said he would take care of us but the fact that he took two beds when he only needed one should’ve been a warning sign enough. He cut my mother’s salary and belittles her at work. He keeps coming over to our house and making my mother cry. He never gave her space to heal and still isn’t. I had to make nice though because he was always the provider and I relied on him financially. He cut my brother from his will and my mother feared he’d do the same to me.

But my family understood.

I thought with my father living elsewhere, I wouldn’t see my family anymore. He was the one who always drove me down to every family gathering, and now I could hardly look him in the eyes. To my surprise, even though he was very much the head of my family, they all reach out to me and my mother, offering their condolences. It was nice to know that I wasn’t a terrible daughter for not wanting to see my father, it was nice knowing his family understood. He was a great provider but cruel, emotionally detached parent and I struggled with the guilt of not mourning his absence in the house. My family helped me realize that my priority should be myself and my mother and I am so grateful for them.

You were cruel.

You were anxiety. Crippling, unimaginable anxiety. You were a panic attack one Monday morning alone in my house as I realized how empty but suffocating my home had become. 2018 was sitting down in class, only to rush out the moment I realized I had forgotten another assignment, crying in the school bathrooms because I knew I was falling behind. I pretended like everything was fine. I didn’t ask for help. I was ashamed to. My mother didn’t have friends because of the type of person my father was and she needed one. So I became her friend, despite the fact that I am just a daughter. I comforted and listened to her. I read her divorce papers for her because my English was better than hers and I knew my father was going to try and fuck her over. My mother was behind every happy memory I had so I owed her this much. Eventually, I just stopped going to school, too anxious to even leave my neighborhood. I would wave my mother goodbye and hop into my car like I was off to university but really I just park somewhere in my neighborhood and hated myself. God how I hated myself.

But my friends were kind.

Early on in the year, 2018 brought me, friends. Friends that would last throughout the year despite the fact that I pushed them away and isolated myself. People like @httpjeon, who would become my number one confidant and best fucking friend along with @introseesaw @junqkook, who never questioned why I had to leave the group chat and disappear for days. People like @timeline-comics, who is so patient and understanding and inspires me. People like @kittae @gukyi @jeongukk who probably didn’t know how much just talking to them made me feel sane and safe. As much as 2018 took away, it also gave me such wonderful people when I needed them the most and I am grateful beyond words. Even when my mother was in the midst of heartbreak, divorce and reliving childhood trauma, she still eventually found me, as most mothers do when they’re children become lost. She offered me love and support like she has done with every breath she has ever taken and told me it was okay to ask for help. I wasn’t invincible, no one was. It was only with others that we could grow stronger.

You were cruel.

I did poorly this semester. I knew I would. But it was severe enough that my university noticed and suspended me from the upcoming term. They told me to come back in the summer and offered me the number to their counseling services. My father didn’t understand how this could have happened, or maybe he didn’t want to understand, so he cut me off financially and called me names that I’m still trying to convince myself aren’t true.

But I had you all.

In the worst year of my life, 2018 brought me a community of people who love and support my work despite how flaky I am putting it out. It brought me a platform where I can express myself creatively and unapologetically. 2018 brought me you guys, my readers— my people. It brought me anons who made my entire day in 200 words or less. It brought me people who reblogged my posts with funny tags that, as corny as it sounds, made the world feel less heavy, even if it was just for a moment. I know that you guys are a blessing. This blog is one of the best things that’s happened to me. It’s my happy place and I am so beyond grateful for you all.

And finally. There is one thing left to say.

2018, I forgive you.

You were cruel, confusing and painful and as much as you set me back, I am going to use you to propel me forward in 2019. It was in your darkness that I realized just how wonderful every speck of light truly feels. Because of you, I am going to fight for happiness and work on loving myself again as BTS has been telling me to do all year because you have given me a reason to finally need to more than ever.

Dear 2019,

Treat me gently. Greet me with kindness. Because if you don’t, I will bend you to my will because, dammit, I deserve happiness. I deserve comfort. I deserve 2019. I will get a job and maintain myself. I will attend counseling and work on fixing myself. I will love myself loudly and write until my fucking fingers fall off. I will go back to school in summer and look forward to learning because it’s what I love; I know now more than ever that it’s a privilege to get to go to school. I will ask for help when I need it and offer it when it’s needed. And I will never stop supporting those who supported me in 2018.

To those who were also hurt by 2018, just know that you walk into the new year cautiously right alongside me and it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to heal. It’s okay to prioritize yourself. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to not be okay. Because even today is cruel, there is always a chance that tomorrow will be kind and that’s a chance worth fighting for.

Sincerely, Rose 🌹

[all-the-love-harold]

The Daily Anna- Chapter 15

Chapter 14

Annagram #8

Masterpost 

This is the final chapter (besides the epilouge)! Get your tissues ready because it will make you teary. @lovesmelikebrandnewstarlight has been the most amazing beta throughout this whole series and I honestly can’t thank her enough for everything, because without her, I probably would have given up after chapter 4 or 5, so thanks Hannah for everything xxx 

Human life is fragile, it only takes the tiniest disruption to end it. In Anna’s case, her kidney failure became so bad that her own blood turned toxic and stopped her heart. By the time she made it to the hospital there was nothing that could be done to save her, her body failed her and at 3:23am on October 11th exactly six months after she met the love of her life, she died. Like most who pass away so young, she left a trail of broken hearts, but unlike most, her story left millions hanging in the balances. Before she passed, Anna hadn’t posted on her blog for a few days and her followers, who knew she was sick, were starting to worry, and Harry who was hurting more than anyone else was the one trusted with the task of delivering the news to the world, so through tears and gritted teeth he began to write.

 Harry Here…..,

 I don’t know how to start this, writing like this has never been my strong point, but Anna trusted me with this and it might just be the hardest thing that I’ll ever do.

 This morning, at 3:23 am Anna passed away. Her last few hours were peaceful, and filled with all the love that she deserves.

 Anna was a shining light in this world, a true angel that was taken too soon. My time with her was short, but I loved her with everything that I had and I will continue to love her until we meet again. Anna changed my life in so many ways, but it was her heart that made me fall for her. She was one of the most compassionate and kind people I have ever met, and I will never forget that.

 This blog, and everyone of you, meant the world to Anna, and in a weird way I am honoured to be the one to be writing this post.

 I’m lost for words right now, so I will leave you with the words Anna said to me just a few days ago.

 “Life is short, don’t waste your time dwelling on the past”

 I will spend the rest of my life taking this advice and I will forever hold Anna in my heart, as I hope you all will.

 All the love, and my deepest sympathies, H. xx.

****

Anna’s unpacked suitcase sat in the corner of Harry’s childhood bedroom. Untouched for days, because Harry was too hurt to even think about looking at her things. After Anna died, they all packed up their cars and went straight back to cheshire so that the world could stop for a little while and they could wrap their heads around it all.

This morning, as he stood staring at the dull black suit he was supposed to dress himself in to go to her funeral he noticed a cloth bag that he’d never seen before. It was black and covered in red and yellow dots in the shape of the Aboriginal flag, so Harry guessed that she’d bought it before things went downhill in Australia. There was a tag hanging off the zipper that read “To those I love with all my heart.” He opened it to reveal 5 envelopes, the first with his name on it.

“Gemma” he shouted knowing that she was getting ready in the room next door. “Gemma come here”

He stood frozen staring into the bag until Gemma walked softly into the room. “What’s up H?, you’re not dressed yet”

He handed her the bag without saying a word. She looked inside and the same expression appeared on her face. Had Anna really left them letters and were they ready to read them?

“Where did you find this H?”

“Her bag, noticed it this morning, but it must have been there for days”

“Should we read them?” Gemma asked, pulling out the letter addressed to Anne and herself.

Harry turned his letter over in his hand, as of he was about to open it, but stopped himself.

“Maybe we should wait” he said “Until after”

Gemma took the letter from him and nodded “get dressed then, we need to leave soon”

She left the room with the letters in her hand and Harry stood there frozen again, his suit looking less and less appealing the more he thought about what that letter might say. He never really got to say goodbye to her, the last thing he’d heard her say was “I can think of a lot of great things that have happened to you Styles” and he cherished that entire conversation they had, but that letter could say so much more, and he needed to know. He threw the suit on haphazardly, forgetting about the tie, and burst out of his room in search of Gemma and the bag.

“I need to know” he said as soon as he found her standing in the bathroom doing her makeup “I need to know what she wrote”

“Let’s give them to everyone first H, then you can read it” She pressed her lips together after putting the final coat of lipstick on and turned around, picking up the bag that was next to her. Anne was waiting in the living room for them to be ready. She hated funerals. And She hated even more that this was a funeral for someone her son held so dearly.

“There’s letters” Harry said, as he stepped down the stairs.

“What?” Anne said, surprised by his sudden excitement

“Anna left letters for us” he said

Her jaw dropped and her face went pale. It wasn't that she didn’t want to read what Anna had to say, she just didn’t know if today was the day for it, or if she could handle it right before the funeral.

“Harry we need to go,” she said “the letters can wait”

 And so they did. The funeral was everything you would imagine the funeral of twenty four year old woman with the whole world at her feet would be, desperately sad and horribly beautiful. It was in the same church that 10 years before Anna’s family laid Timmy to rest, which made the whole thing all the more devastating. The service was beautiful though, there wasn’t a dry eye the house when Gabby read her eulogy where she called Anna “her hero, her rock and her best friend”

Harry, Ronnie and John carried the coffin out and that’s when harry broke down. He didn’t care who was watching, he just said goodbye to the love of his life, and as they laid the coffin in the back of the hearse, Ronnie embraced Harry in a hug. A hug that lasted for what felt like a lifetime, filled with tears and sobs for the loss of their great love.

 As for the letters, Harry handed them out at the wake and they all read them when they needed it most. Harry couldn’t wait, he slipped outside while everyone else was preoccupied and sat down under a tree with a glass of whiskey and opened it.

 “Harry,

 I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’ve had to leave you so soon, I never wanted that, I wanted everything with you, I’m sorry that we never got that life together.

 I want you to know how happy you made me. Those last few months of my life were the happiest I’d ever had and that was all down to you. You showed me the world and everything that’s good and I can’t thank you enough for that.

 But promise me this Harry Styles; love again. You showed me what love is, and my life ended with the love of my life by my side, but you have an entire life ahead of you, and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. So love again, let yourself feel the same way you did the first time you saw me and build a life with someone else, someone who will love you just as much as I do.

 Life is cruel, and I wish I had more time to spend with you. I love you Styles. Don’t ever forget that.

 Anna. xx.”  

 ***

Anne and Gemma were the next to open their letter, they waited until Harry went back to London a few days after the funeral because they knew that while he was home he needed them to be strong and they weren’t sure they could be after reading it. It was addressed to the both of them and Gemma read it outloud as they sat in Anne’s living room, the golden autumn sun beaming through the window.

 Anne and Gemma,

 I want to thank both of you for making Harry the man that he is and I want to thank you for accepting me into your lives so easily. From the second I met both of you I felt warm and welcome and free to love Harry as I wanted to and I will always be grateful for that.

 Take care of him, I know you already do, but his heart is soft and this will break him. I am so sorry to love and leave him so soon, I wish I had more time with him. With all of you really. But know that being a part of your lives for the last six months has made all of this easier. So thank you.

 I’ll always be close by.

 Anna. xx.

 ***

 It took Debbie and John weeks to read their letter and it John who finally did broke the silence on the topic one morning as they sat eating breakfast.

“We should open that today” he said “It would be nice to know what my Anna had to say”

Debbie was numb, but she agreed, taking the envelope and opening it with her pointer. Tears filled her eyes as she read the first few lines out loud, but eventually her voice trailed off and she handed it to John once she was done but she couldn’t stay to watch him read it, she left the room, desperate sobs escaping her mouth as she walked away.

 Mum and Dad.

 I’m sorry you have to lose another child. I’m sorry to leave you, but I know you’ll be okay. I know how strong you both are. You kept our family together after Timmy died and I know you’ll do the same after this.

 Mum, I have always been proud to be your daughter and I always dreamed of mothering my children the same way you mothered us. I’m sorry that I'll never give you grandchildren, but I hope that what I did in my short life was enough to make you as proud of me as I am of you. I want to thank you for being my biggest supporter, for doing everything you could to allow me to follow my dreams. And if it helps you find closure, before I died, I was happy and loved and that’s all I ever really dreamed of.

 Dad, thank you for showing me what a good man looks like. Thank you for setting an example for the kind of love I deserve, and thank you for being the first man that I loved. You were always the person I trusted most when something went wrong, and I couldn’t tell you how many times I wished for one of your warm hugs when I first moved out. Make sure you give Gabby one of those now. She’ll need it more than anything.

 There’s so much more I could say to both of you, but I think it’s best if I leave it at this. I love you. Thank you for being the best parents you could, thank you for loving me with everything that you have.

 Anna. xx.

 ***

Gabby read her letter one day when she was feeling particularly lonely in her Uni Halls. The cooler weather had truly set in and she was wrapped in a blanket, staring out the window at the gloomy sky. It was a day when she felt like she had lost everything and Anna’s handwriting on the front of the envelope was a comfort to her, it made her feel a little closer to the sister she loved so dearly.

 Gabby,

 I don’t have the words to express how sorry I am for dying on you. You’ve been through too much already and my only hope is that you show the same strength and resilience that you did when Timmy left us.

 I’ve always admired your strength, never have I ever seen you break, you showed the bravery that I should have shown you  as your older sister.

 I have one last piece of advice to offer you; love. Let yourself fall because I promise you when you find the right person, it will be the greatest thing you ever do. Don’t wait and watch your life pass you by, live everyday as it comes and don’t stop yourself from feeling. Your strength is  one thing I always loved you for, but sometimes I think it is your greatest flaw.

 I love you Gabby. We’ll meet again somewhere.

 Anna. xx.

 ***

Ronnie was the last to open his letter. It was a whole year after Anna’s death that he finally gained the strength to know what she had to say to him. He’d clung so desperately to the Anna that he’d created in his head that he didn’t want anything to ruin that. But one October day in 2019, after he’d been on a date with a girl that he actually really liked, he opened the letter and felt as if he was talking to his best friend again.

 “Ronnie,

 My best friend, my rock, my hero. I can’t thank you enough for everything you ever did for me, you made me the woman I was.

 Writing this in past tense seems strange but I think it might be easier for you to read it this way.

 I’m sorry that things between us were rocky after Harry and I met, I know you were just protecting yourself. I never meant to hurt you, but meeting him was the best thing that happened to me and I had to go on that adventure. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t love you like you loved me.

 I know it wouldn’t have been easy to put everything that happened with us behind you once Harry appeared, I don’t know that I would have been able to if I was you. So thank you for being the bigger person, and coming on the trip with us, I am honoured to have been able to spend the last few weeks of my life with my best friend on the trip that we always talked about taking.

 I want you to know that you were always my favourite person, even after everything went to shit, you were the one I wanted to tell everything to and the one that I trusted the most.

 I wish you every happiness that life will offer you Ronnie, take every chance that you get and the next time I see you, I want to hear all about your adventures. Let yourself love, Ron and life will bring you great things.

 Anna. xx.

[cactusatsea]

“June 18th, 2062″

March 3rd, 2062

Dear Betha,

How is your mother?     Right now I am  I’m going to die         I love you    I

I’m going to die in 3 months, 15 days, 2 hours, 4 minutes.

I love you.

March 6th, 2062

Dear Betha,

Do you remember when we were first told? It was three years ago, you were probably too young. I hope you remember though, because then you’d remember at least something of the time before, and I want you to remember a time before tanks and shipyards, before red lights and passes. I want you to remember when skies were a little clearer, when people didn’t know for sure and so were a little more scared, but at the same time a little more hopeful.

Your mother probably didn’t believe it at first. We used to laugh at all those doomsday theories when we were teenagers. She was the sensible, questioning type. I can see her standing in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked as the officer explained the situation and handed her the papers, only for her expression to fall when she realized that this time, it was for real.

I didn’t question it. I wasn’t that type.

On February 27th I drove out of the city with Barry in the backseat. Do you remember Barry? He was just a puppy when your mother and I stopped seeing each other. He’s grown up now, a shaggy Labrador with a big smile. The streets were empty, and I could see the officers going to all the buildings making sure everyone was out.

At the shipyard gates they were stopping people and making them get rid of luggage. There were requirements on how much you could bring, but when you tell people they’re never coming back they always bring too much. There was an elderly woman crying as the guards emptied her bags of dresses and old vinyl records. It was terrible; Betha, I hope you didn’t see anything like that. I don’t know why I’m describing it to you now. Maybe when you’re older you’ll read this again. They threw everything into a big pile, and it reminded me of those black and white photos of mountains upon mountains of shoes.

When it was my turn at the gate, the guards told me I couldn’t take Barry. I didn’t understand; there was nothing about pets in the guidelines. One of the guards held out his hand for Barry’s leash. I told them I wanted to release him myself, and stepped out of line.

We got in the car and I drove us out into the countryside. I didn’t mean to go far but I kept driving past every turning, my mind somewhere else.

I found myself at the little cottage we lived in the first two years after you were born, up on a hill in the woods. Its new owners had already left. I got out and let Barry loose, and then sat on the porch. The sun was shining. Birds were singing. Nobody but me cared that the world was ending.

Time passed. Darkness fell. I went into the house and found that most of our old furniture was still there, and spent the night.

And the next.

On March 1st the first ships departed. I watched from the porch as they rose into the air before flying away and out of sight. On March 3rd the last ships twinkled in the night sky.

Betha, I missed my flight. I’m so sorry, darling. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other for a while.

Love,

Dad

April 22nd, 2062

Dear Betha,

I’m getting used to the cottage. It’s always been quiet here, but when you know there’s nobody else it gets so much quieter. Barry keeps me company, and I don’t know what I’d do without him. Thankfully I can keep both of us fed; I’ve gathered batteries and canned food, and I think we’ll be fine until for the next few months.

Betha, I don’t want to go.

I sit on the porch sometimes, and I think about my life. I haven’t done much, but I’ve been a good man, I know that. But I could have been better. I could have done so much more. I know exactly when I’m going to die, and if I’d known before, I

I know I left you with a good mother. You’ll be okay.

Love,

Dad

May 30th, 2062

Dear Betha,

Happy birthday! I can’t believe you’re turning seven. I hope they have cake for you up there; your mother’s with you to make sure it’s nut-free and vanilla-flavoured, so I’m not too worried. Today Barry and I walked down the highway to a field and I used stones to spell out a birthday message for you. Maybe a satellite will take a picture of it and send it to wherever you are.

When it was finished we decided to spend the rest of the day there. The grass was soft and warm, and the air was fresh and smelled of wildflowers. The sun hits your face and you breathe it all in, and you feel alive for the first time in ages. I don’t think they have stuff like this up in the ships. When you’re in the city you know why we had to leave, but out here you wonder if we could have saved this planet.

Every day my mind goes up into the stars to where you are, and I hope you’re safe and happy. I hope that wherever you end up you’ll do a better job than we did. I hope you have a beautiful, wonderful life.

Love,

Dad

June 18th, 2062

Dear Betha,

I’m sitting on the roof with Barry as I write this. I wanted to be closer to you. I hope they don’t have a countdown on the ships to when the bombs go off. That would be cruel. I hope your mother covers your eyes.

The stars are bright and beautiful. My watch lies on the roof beside me. The stars are diamonds twinkling in the night, just like the old song. They take my breath away.

I’m going to die in 2 minutes. Goodbye, Betha. I love you.

- Dad

Thank you for reading my first story ever posted on this blog! More will be coming over the next several months and hopefully beyond, so keep an eye on this page. 

“June 18th, 2062″ is a short story which I originally published in the student magazine Firefly (Vol. 1, Issue 3) in March 2014. It’s strange to think that I wrote this over five years ago. Still, it continues to be one of my favourite pieces in my archives, and so I wanted to share it here.

[sfom-unlimited-blog]

To Never Be Continued

It ain’t easy being a sci-fi fan.

A few days ago, The Expanse was cancelled. I’ve been a big fan since its very first trailer back in the halcyon days of 2015 and I hate to see it go. It was always on the bubble; I knew this, and thus, raised awareness and looped in some new fans and did everything I could to help keep it afloat. But ratings-wise, the writing had always been on the wall. I am not shocked to learn that this smart, savvy, thrilling series will not continue its excellent adaptation of the titular book series by James S.A. Corey. I’m simply disappointed.

Word is, Alcon Entertainment has been shopping around The Expanse to other networks. Sadly, word also is that there have been no interested parties and the sets will be brought down as early as Monday.   It’s looking like this may be the end of the road for the brave crew of the Rocinante and their friends and frenemies across the cosmos. If this the case, fans may need to do their best to content themselves with the novels. The talented cast and crew will have an even tougher time saying goodbye, but in all likelihood they’ll be saying goodbye just the same. 

It always hurts to lose something we love. As humans, we turn to stories to escape reality and take pride and pleasure in seeing scrappy heroes rally together for the greater good and hard-knocks cynical detectives realize their lives are worth a damn. Even in the darkest spaces -- even in Game of Thrones, where life is always hanging by a thread, courting death in every motion -- there’s hope. Living in the real world, we desperately need that hope, and television series cancellations deprive us of seeing it to its fullest. When plugs are yanked on ongoing stories, hope seems to dwindle. If the crew of the Roci won’t get their happy endings, what good is there left in our world? An exaggeration, of course, but another thing us humans have a tough time with is fully processing the raw and visceral nature of fresh pain. There’s plenty of beauty to be had on Earth and there’s plenty to savor in the three stellar seasons of The Expanse. But without proper resolution, the fans and the creators alike will suffer a bullet hole where our brains once lingered longingly. It sucks. 

My first real foray into the internet came at age 15. My late grandmother, who will totally get referenced in a solid third of my blog posts, for the record, had pulled me into science fiction at a very early age. (Another thing you’ll see noted often is that Star Trek: The Next Generation premiered just three weeks after I was born, and little baby Quinton was in a little baby crib the night it began. By the time that baby had turned into a six-year-old child, they were already ranting and raving about Data and Picard.) Back to when I was 15, though. My grandmother and I had been faithful fans of the irreverent space adventure series Farscape for years. Neither of us spent much time on the net (heck, my grandmother never missed an opportunity to tell folks she barely knew how to turn on a computer!) but the night of the show’s impromptu series finale changed my world. Midway through the episode, during one of its commercial breaks, we spotted an advertisement sponsored by Farscape’s fanbase. It asked us whether we were enjoying tonight’s episode and whether or not we were aware that this would be Farscape’s last. It called on everyone to make a ruckus on the Save Farscape forums. It insisted that together we could make a difference for a cancelled show. 

At the end of the episode, the show’s lead characters were faced with, shall we say, an impossible situation. And those cruel and unusual words -- “To Be Continued” -- popped up on the screen, overlaid upon a heartbreaking scene. It was at that tragic moment that I realized Farscape, in all likelihood, would never contain an ounce of resolution. The characters my grandmother and I, and millions of other people, had watched struggle and rise for 88 episodes would never find peace. It blew my mind and enraged me. I was 15, after all, and hormonal as all get-out. I knew John Crichton and Aeryn Sun weren’t real, and I knew their fictional frell-offing wasn’t technically as important as the livelihood of real people surrounding me in the real world, but frak that sentiment, these were my friends, they’d taught me so much about what it means to be a person, and they were gone.

I signed up on Save Farscape’s forums that night. Back then, Facebook and Twitter and Snapchat and Instagram and all your other whoddathunkit gadgets were not yet in-season, so folks communicated in message board posts and then they met up at conventions and passed out custom-made posters and got loud in all these other ways. It was the only way, and by goodness, we did it. There wasn’t a whole heck of a lot I could do at my age, but I attended a few conventions and got to meet stars Ben Browder and Claudia Black and I may or may not have blabbed endlessly to them both about how much their work meant to me and how inspirational their characters were and it’s entirely possible I came across a touch unhinged which is fine because I probably am. They were gracious and kind and told me to keep up the good fight and never let go of my dreams. (Someday I’ll write about just how much that moment means to me.) And we did it. The fanbase, with continued support from The Jim Henson Company, successfully brought Farscape back for a four-hour miniseries which resolved the show’s bad-timing cliffhanger and gave much of its cast a happy ending. It was one of the proudest days of my life when I heard the news. My grandmother would not stop beaming about how happy she was that I’d taken that step. And, like I said, I really didn’t do much. But I was a part of something that restored that hope to people’s lives, just a tad, for just a few more hours. I watched the grown-ups make waves and give an unfinished story its finale. I was smitten.

That was when I decided that I’d make following the television industry a lifelong passion. And that’s where I am today, as I hear the disheartening news that The Expanse’s sets are being torn down soon if no buyers have emerged to pick up SyFy’s slack.

For every Farscape, for every Firefly sequel movie, there are dozens and dozens of shows that don’t get a second lease on life, a renewed chance to say goodbye. But we have to believe, my friends. As fans of The Expanse, we have to believe that this isn’t goodbye. We have to make noise, using all the additional tools in our arsenal since Farscape came back swinging in Autumn 2004. If this is truly the end for James Holden’s ragtag band of makeshift heroes and heroines, let’s not go quietly into the night. Even if those sets go down, let’s remind the world that The Expanse, like Farscape, is a damned good time. 

And if, in the final telling, we must say farewell -- if this story will not reach its intended end -- I’ll be here for each and every one of you, my fellow fans as well as the makers of this exceptional journey, as we grieve.

[ashesfade-a-blog]

Here is a random headcanon dump from Dayne’s old blog; @fadedrosepetals.

                • Dayne pretty much never wears shoes while at Skyhold. She enjoys being barefoot and since it would be considered improper for her to do so outside of the walls, she takes advantage of it by doing it literally anytime that she can. Josephine and Blackwall often tell her that she needs to wear something on her feet because of the colder temperatures but Dayne brushes them off as if they were nothing and continues to do so happily, even if it does cause her to fall ill from time to time.

                • She spends most of her time in the garden, hiding amongst the bushes of flowers. She tends to have her nose buried in a book or into her own journal while there is normally a spread of sweet snacks laid out on a small piece of frilly fabric, as if she were having her own private picnic. She enjoys the gardens and the flowers because it is full of pretty things and most of the time people are happy while visiting the gardens. And she is a big fan of happy things. Like FLOWER CROWNS that she makes for the Inquisition, flowers chosen specifically on each individual’s personalities.

                • Dayne will often ask Iron Bull for piggy back rides and he gladly allows it every single time. While she is getting the piggy back ride, she almost always is tying flowers around his horns and he always pretends he doesn’t notice.

                • Her relationship with Cole is one of the most important ones that she has (and it’s probably one of my favorites). Imagine all of these beautiful things for a moment. Dayne and Cole would whisper kind thoughts about their companions into each other’s ears. Everyone around them would simply think that they are up to no good when in reality they are just being kind. She speaks to Cole the most often. The two platonically hold hands and cuddle while taking naps together. Dayne appreciates Cole’s ability to see through any sort of mask she might be wearing without her having to express her feelings with words. He brings a special kind of comfort one could only find in a friend that knows you inside and out.

                • Her relationship with Dorian is another one of my favorites because he is basically the kind of brother she wished her brother actually was. He is kind to her and instead of criticizing her every move, he is understanding and encouraging. When she feels sad, he is who she goes to for comfort with tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes because he doesn’t make her feel foolish for having a soft heart in a cruel world.  

                 • Leliana and Dayne spend a lot of time together talking about Orlais. Josie would join them and they discuss pretty dresses, balls, fashion, boys and anything under the sun. They often slip into speaking Orlesian when they want to discuss something private and it almost always happens when Cullen is around. Dayne would keep an eye out for pretty things that remind her of them and will often surprise them with gifts, denying they were from her. #girlgang tbh

               • Her relationship with Blackwall is very father/daughter like. She goes to him with her problems because she knows he will see reason and will help her understand all possible outcomes. He watches out for her like a hawk, specifically with Commander Cullen.  

                • In the aspect of her canon story and marrying Cullen, Blackwall would give her away. Cole would be the ring bearer. Leliana and Josephine would be bridesmaids and Dorian would stand as her man of honor, right at her side.  

                • Dayne, unlike the typical inquisitor, was not trained in battle and actually had no skill at all for protecting herself, let alone all of Thedas. Since she was thrown into the role, needing the ability to fight, she approaches Cassandra to teach her how to yield a sword and a shield. Cassandra would not go easy on her. Cullen would watch from a distance, wincing / holding his breath / hoping she doesn’t get hurt and Dayne would be giggling most of the time.  

                • Music is something she thoroughly enjoys and will often visit the taverns so that she can hear the minstrels sing their songs. Dayne has no problem with getting up and dancing, even when looks are disapproving. She will shed her shoes and twirl and twirl.  

                •  She doesn’t understand why she has to be decked out in armor all of the time. It was never a necessity before she became inquisitor and the transition has been difficult for her. She would much rather wear pretty dresses. Dayne would have saved up her money to commission an armored dress with engraved floral designs and hidden lace so that she could still wear pretty things while also being protected.  

                • Upon arriving at Skyhold, while everyone else was mortified by the state that it was in, Dayne felt nothing but excitement because it meant she could have this huge decor project. Before anyone could explain to her that the aesthetic of Skyhold needed to convey the Inquisition’s message, Dayne had thrown up lace curtains and white throw rugs with lots of pink hued decor items throughout all of Skyhold. Cullen is the one to break the news to her that the decor must change because Josie and Leliana don’t want to hurt her feelings. Dayne is more than happy to change everything because it means all of the decor she has can be used in her chambers (and some likely ends up in Leliana’s, Josephine’s and Cullen’s as well.)  

                • Platonic affection is extremely important to her. She showers everyone in cheek kisses, forehead kisses, nose kisses, hand holding, cuddles and all of the hugs in the world.  

                • Because of her lack of experience in the ways of war, Dayne suffers from severe anxiety. She can go from being the happiest girl in all of Thedas to panic attacks leaving her breathless and in tears within moments. When she has an attack, she will lock herself away in her chambers for hours refusing to let anyone inside. I imagine Cullen sitting outside of her door so that he can be the first that is there for her when she comes out. Dorian, Leliana and Josephine would tear down anyone who said that because of this, she was unfit to lead them. Cole would say comforting words without making her feel stupid and Blackwall would simply kiss the top of her head and offer her a hand to hold. But she would come out of the room looking as though nothing had happened, refusing to acknowledge that it ever happened because that is not who she is or who she wants to be.

                • She leaves kind notes for her companions to randomly find throughout all of Skyhold. There are probably encouraging words, compliments and uplifting phrases strewn on the neatly folded paper in girlish handwriting. // I like to believe that before the battle with Corypheus, she writes goodbye letters to all of the companions and hides them just as she would her other notes for them to find someday after she’s gone because she knows she won’t make it out of there alive. But she does and she forgets about the letters, laughing it off when Josie and Leliana get upset with her for even thinking such a thing could happen. Explaining to Cole how she felt like that would be it for her and that she wanted him to know that it was okay. Having to have a sit down with Blackwall so that he could explain that he understands why she felt the need to write it. But her finding Cullen in tears, clutching onto the piece of paper with clenched fists – feeling horrible for even the thought of him having to go through it.  

                • Dayne is a lover of all animals and will always stop to pet something if there is a chance that she can. I imagine her keeping little treats in her armor to give out to the animals she finds.

                 Dayne is a very down to EarthThedas sort of individual. She enjoys the simple things in life. In her down time she spends her time listening to music which always results in long winded solo dance sessions because she rarely can convince anyone to join her or she is alone in her chambers. She is also a pretty big book worm. I touched on this a little bit on my previous headcanon dump post earlier. She tends to have at least one book on her persons at any given time. Her favorite kind of books are love stories, but not the kind that Cassandra is into. She likes her knights in shining armor protecting said damsel in distress. Dayne is also a huge napper. She really loves her soft bed and will spend a ridiculous amount of time just laying there. I think she probably has difficulties getting out of bed in the mornings. And last but not least, horseback riding. It gives her the opportunity to do something that was a huge part of her life before the Inquisition. It helps her forget, even for just a little while, the weight that is on her shoulders.

                 Dayne is a devout Andrastian and has been her entire life. She studies the stories of Andraste and The Maker religiously (pun intended). She has never once doubted in a higher power and the holy writings. When she is given the title ‘Herald of Andraste’, she struggles with it and never truly doesn’t. She does not believe that she was some chosen holy entity and instead believes she is just a girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. In the beginning, she gets a little angry and upset when people refer to her by that name but as time goes on she tells herself that it is just something that people need to believe and so she allows it without every really believing it herself.

                 In all honesty, Dayne’s biggest regret was accepting her invitation to the conclave on behalf of her parents. Initially, she had been so excited to take part in such a historical event but it ultimately altered her life and forced her to forget any type of normal future she had hoped for. Dayne really wanted to be courted just as a noble woman would have been. She’d wanted to find a proper husband who would care for her and provide for her and love her and give her the children she’d always dreamed of. She wanted a modest estate with a large garden and a library full of books for her to bury herself in. Going to the conclave was what changed it all.

                Despite having no real ties to either the templar side or the mage side before the Inquisition, she has always felt sympathetic towards the mages. Dayne is all about giving chances (multiple chances if we’re being honest) and the fact that mages aren’t even given a chance before they are tossed into the Circle breaks her heart. She understands why there was severe action taken and in her canon, places leliana as the divine and disbands the circle.

                 Solas and Vivienne are background noise to Dayne, which sounds absolutely terrible but the bottom line is that they are probably two of the most judgmental characters we see throughout the game and that is just a no go for precious little Dayne. She is cordial with the both of them but will literally walk away in the middle of a conversation when it starts to turn rude or “I’m better than so and so”.

                 As I stated in a previous headcanon, baths are one of Dayne’s favorite things. She likes to take extremely warm baths so that it takes a little longer for the water to cool just so she can lengthen her time spent in there. She is very into sweet smelling things and brings in special soaps from Orlais along with flower petals to soak in. She sings while she is bathing and sometimes ends up falling asleep in there. When she gets out of the tub, she likes to air dry in the sun rays that come in through the windows at Skyhold. She likes to watch the light reflect off of the water droplets because they remind her of glitter and prettier things.

                 She was a lady, living up to the stereotype of a fair maiden. She enjoyed her moments alone and the quiet life she had in her family’s estate in Ostwick. With the comfort of never having to worry much about not having enough, she was raised to be proper and suitable for a nobleman or someone of higher rank. Dayne was a carefree bookworm and lover of all living things. She would spend a lot of time in the stables with the horses and is/was the type of person who would stop and pet any creature that would allow her to. Soft-spoken, intelligent and extremely feminine. She wanted to please her family and hoped for a life similar to the one she had been already living with whomever her future husband might be. She enjoyed going to balls, flirting with suitable men and frilly, girly things.

[dracimexidae]

Few words about this hiatus

Hello everyone!

I’ve been meaning to write something for quite a while, at least to let you know what I intend to do with these blogs (I feel I owe you one or two words instead of disappearing just like that), but it has been hard to sit down and type. Perhaps because I feel that what I am going to write will sound a bit like a goodbye. I don’t know.

As some of you have probably noticed, both my personal and Black Sails blogs ran out of posts some time ago (for what I think it was the first time since I created them, but whatever) and I just... didn’t bother to update them. I usually found a bit of time and will to add posts to the queue every now and then to keep the blogs running but, partly due to the fact that the last months of 2016 were quite messy, in conclusion of what certainly was an awful year, personally speaking (well, it was in general, sadly), especially having to deal with the last months of my grandfather’s life, who passed away in September (I feel cruel by saying this, and few will probably understand why I say it but, with what we’ve been through with him during the last years, thanks to his horrible personality, and his health getting worse during the last spring and summer, I can’t deny his death felt like a liberation... I’m aware it’s a terrible thing to say, but my family and I have been hurt enough and have enough scars to carry to deny it), I found myself putting this place aside. Then, after the festivities, spent in concern as my grandmother was sick (luckily she recovered) and our dog, Lucky, fell ill, I got sick with quite an aggressive flu and consequent bronchitis, with which I’m still dealing, although it is finally getting slowly better. In all this, last Friday we had to put down Lucky, who had been with us for 14 years: it was inevitable since he was gradually getting worse with no chances of recovering and we didn’t want him to keep suffering, but no less painful, even if we had the luck to have him with us for many years. It is a small consolation, but his absence is still unbelievable and sometimes unbearable, and it hurts badly.

So yeah, I haven’t been in the best conditions for quite a while, physically and mentally, and maybe it played a part in my slow detachment from Tumblr, even if it is not surely the main reason for my gradual disaffection; I also thought that getting completely away from it for a bit could help rekindling some interest, but apparently it didn’t work. As for now, even with the new season of Black Sails starting, I don’t feel like I want to be active here again. I just don’t feel this place anymore like I used to. There is a number of reasons behind this feeling, but talking about them was not the intent of this post. It’s not about anyone in particular, mind you; it’s just, I suppose at last I have finally grown tired of Tumblr, or staying here doesn’t make me feel safe, content or relaxed anymore - it’s a combination of many things.

In light of this, I decided to step aside and put the blogs on full hiatus; I won’t delete them, because never say never, I might come back someday; also I spent a lot of time here and I don’t wish to lose all the effort put; most importantly, I’d like to keep in touch with some people, if they still want to do the same with me, unforgivable as I am for being so slow in answering messages and mails (I feel so ashamed about this, I’m truly sorry), so the account and the blogs remain, even if they’ll be inactive. Forever? For just a while? I really can’t say right now what it will be, so it’s up to you to decide if you want to keep following me - I won’t mind if you decide to unfollow, I certainly understand.

But I really need to say, and it still won’t be enough to show my love, how grateful I am to every single person who has followed me, liked and reblogged my things through the years, contacted and chatted with me: it meant more than you can imagine, seriously, because I will never forget how this place has been an haven for me, a place where I laughed and could get shamelessly passionate and opinionated about my interests, a place where I could meet and talk to lovely people sharing my enthusiasm, and with some of them I was even able to open myself, chat and vent and feel less alone.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

I don’t know what else to say, so I guess it’s time to end this post. Again, I will check Tumblr every now and then, and I really hope I’ll be able to answer the messages (and mails) that I neglected with time, so I won’t be gone for good, and if any of you would like to send a message, I’ll get to it eventually (I can’t stress enough that my lateness in answering has nothing to do with you, it is all my fault), but for now the blogs will stay inactive and I won’t create or reblog anything.

I truly hope life will be niceand this year will be soft and gentle to everyone of you, and I wish for you all the goodness in this world!

Take care and stay safe,

Chiara

[in-paradox-space]

i wrote this 3 weeks ago and scheduled it to post today

I started a story some time ago but ive been putting off continuing it because it felt like a chore

if i write it this way its easier so I started it here

its fiction

if i abandon it then oh well fuck it

so somehow I remembered this tumblr

uhh its been a while

usually when I change I write it down

a notepad or someshit

an online blog makes more sense because it’s always there

but I’d probably forget I have it

this time I haven’t wrote anything

I didn’t keeP tRack of the dAte

well to be honest

i do remember wrIting the firSt day, and it was in NotEpad, saved in Documents

I can checK but I likE the mystery 

oK i checked and it was 10/09

now is 28/10

so i have roughly 7 weeks until I change again

I’d like to quickly sum up everything I’ve experienced in these past 5 weeks

but my mind is blank

it’s all I’ve been thinking about

how i should sum everything up

thoughts of things that happen pop into my mind

I think wow  i should write that down

but it feels like a chore

i think it’s just the person i am right now 

they’re kind of like that but it’s a lot to explain, which is exactly why i should have been explaining it this time 

i really like being her

i need more time with her

its so…. strange

im friends with her boyfriend

Lilly, I’m talking about now

well, her name is Lily  but uh im such a loser I want to spell it Lilly because it’s Lilly like the flowers and the lillies were our thing

but now he’s giving her lillies 

and its so strange, he knows he only does it because it was our thing

and he knows I know

and I can’t be mad at him, I just want Lily to be happy and I see that sparkle in her eyes

the way she kisses him

its almost like how she used to kiss me but its different now

the same butterflies aren’t there but something else is

it’s serious and they actually are starting to get used to each other

but in a long term kind of way

and he’s going to be with her all that time which makes me a little sad

because he’s only with her because of me and I want to be with her instead

(it’s 4:13 am rn btw, thats the homestuck number) 

but he’s also probably with him because he wanted to be with her, which is probably why i wanted to be with her

and I still see her every day 

but it’s as a friend

and its like she doesnt know its me but maybe she does

and we had that one kiss as the person I am now

she can say she was stoned or she was drunk but i…

i dont know 

she wouldnt have done that with somebody else under the influence

its just strange

we all hangout together and we’re the best of pals

but we’re inside each others head and we share the same memories

it’s so strange but it doesnt make me feel unhappy

I’m so happy just being with them

I have school and shit I guess but thats just always there, wherever I go 

and the person I am right now doesn’t care much about that

Alexis - who I am now

it’s hard to tell really what the fuck is going on with her

everybody called her Alex and I was constantly wondering if she was a boy or if she wanted to be a boy or what

but nah she’s just chill I guess

it’s so hard to find makeup in her room 

and her hair is like mid length idk 

like the main character from life is strange, if you saw her you’d understand

and like im saying

im just so at peace being with them. Just being who I am now, being around Lilly, being with john

we hold hands and lmao it’s weird but she doesn’t think anything of it

it’s strange does she not sense that it’s me under this cover? 

I want to explain it to her so much

but she would just think I’m fucking around and it’d be cruel

but I’m just so happy with them

and I dont want it to end

but in roughly seven weeks it will change. 

au reviour 

hello new life

goodbye lilly

goodbye john

you wont even know I left 

I’ll forget you 

but my my, will I ever feel the same with the friends I make afterwards

I’m at peace with them. just laughing and nothing can hurt us when we’re in that moment

no embarrassment or shame can fault us

we live in the moment and we pass life by

but it’s always in the back of my mind

and the fear is becoming terrifying

there’s a panic, with an upside down grin on its face

an expression of falling into the abyss of my mind for 3 months

and i can feel it

who I truly am just watching this from the inside, falling and falling

and sure I could talk to a fucking counseller or some shit about this but id just switch places in 3 months 

and its not like they would level with me

man fuck that

there’s got to be people out there who know how this feels

man 

I’m just so happy with where I am right now

If I could stay like this for one or two years until i naturally move on I’d be so fucking happy 

I would be content.

but its just gonna change beneath my feet within 7 weeks

and I wont have true closure

I should be used to this

and I new i shouldnt have got close when I met her

i need to talk to john about this 

i didnt want to know how long I had left

but i feel happy after checking when i wrote my last entry

am i doing the maths right? 7 weeks is good, I thought maybe 3 or 4.

….

ok nah. 

I checked and I have 4 weeks left

ugh lilly 

fuck 

I really just

I’ll explain it to john first.

Then I’ll explain it to lilly maybe.

There has to be a way.

I woke up one morning, just out of the blue, I could smell lillies

and I followed the smell and she was just there waiting for john

and it’s like I knew he was gonna be there

it’s just

we’re in each others heads

and he didnt show up but I did? 

and it’s just fate its fucking incredible 

me and john spoke about this

there has to be a way.

in the next switch there has to be a way to find me 

he has to fucking find me

im thinking of doing something huge before I switch

fuck it

the place in the centre of town, near the bus station

there’s a grassy part with flowers and there is lillies everywhere

even the shiny white ones and that’s where I just happened to meet her

after literally waking up and following a smell just because I had the random desire to

like what in the fuck

its not a coincidence

whoever started this shit must have let this happen

or maybe its a mistake

but this 

I just want to stay who i am for another year

maybe two if you’d let me 

please

well

I think around 3 or 4 am, I can grab all the lillies from the garden place

and maybe john will help me but who knows, I’ll ask

and I’ll have to be quick. i guess I’ll shove them all into a bag and order a taxi so I can drive away

there’s probably security who glance at the cctv in the bus station, they’d report it 

then if i walk with a bag of flowers, covered in compost it would kind of fuck up

then i havent thought what to do with them

i want to do something huge

where everyone can see

like the scene from 500 days of summer where he draws the whole skyline on the wall

I dont care if she thinks I did it or John did it

 I just want her to see it 

and for it to leave a mark in her memory forever

so a part of this lifetime will live on 

it would be nice of you to understand but it’s so complex

and not a lot of people make these claims

I understand that you can’t understand

and it’s not necessarily okay but i guess its fine

and yeah

I want to do something

like leave a symbol all over town

every town in the city

in one night

maybe ask some people to help

something personal

i dont know

but maybe if it makes the news I’ll notice it before I change

something illegal

like lillies graffitid in the centres of every town

one town a night

and it will get noticed

and if john can get people together to do this

and it makes the news

that feeling

sure i must remember

i just 

im determined not to forget her

john, you have to help me with this

he has to

he must know how I feel

i dont even care that im not with her

being her friend right now just means the world to me

and john basically is me

he will help man

he has to

[sanammma]

Thanks @bandsbeforeeverything for tagging me, this is fun :D 1. Nicknames: None, I don’t like them. 2. Gender: Female 3. Star sign: Virgo 4. Height: 5 feet (yes I know, I’m very short) 5. Time: 1:11 am 6. Birthday: September 18th 7. Favourite bands: Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Pink Floyd. 8. Favourite solo artist: Bob Dylan and I’m really getting into Francoise Hardy stuff 9. Song stuck in my head: Goodbye Cruel World by Pink Floyd 10. Last movie I’ve watched: La La Land 11. Last show watched: I can’t remember? 12. When did I created my blog: two years ago probably? But I didn’t know anything back then. I started paying attention to it a year ago as I can remember 13. What do I post: Mostly classic rock stuff 14. Last thing I googled: How to reduce the pain of mouth ulcers (I have six at the same time so that’s fun) 15. Do you have other blogs: No, I don’t 17. Why did you choose your url: It has my name in it and tbh that’s the only thing I’m sure about 18. Following: too many 19. Followers: 314 the last time I checked? 20. Favourite Colours: Blue and red 21. Average hours of sleep: Usually 7 or 8 but I can easily tolerate sleeping for 5 hours a day or less 22. Lucky number: What is luck? 23. Instruments: I don’t play anything 24. What am I wearing: Pajamas 25. How many blankets I sleep with: 1 26. Dream job: Writer.. may be. I’m not sure 27. Dream trip: Greece or France 28. Favourite food: Shawrma 29. Nationality: It doesn’t matter (I don’t want to share that) 30. Favorite song now: Whiskey, mystics and men by the doors I tag @writes-of-winter and anyone who wants to do it :)