#writing is an affliction

[unma]

I have several Frans fics waiting to be revised and posted... but I guess it's fucking 5am and I just finished writing a draft for another KromSin fic for some reason. So, uh, look forward to that I guess.

[writingwithfolklore]

Show Don't Tell - Symptoms vs. the Affliction

              Another way to think of show don’t tell is to describe the symptoms rather than tell the affliction. You could say someone was close to fainting—or you could describe their symptoms and trust the readers to understand what they mean: the world swirled around her head, her ears beginning to hum lowly, then louder, increasing into a high-pitched ring. She took a deep breath, her stomach turning over itself. Etc.

              Symptoms can also mean the lump in your throat as a “symptom” of being sad enough to cry, or the warmth of your face as a “symptom” of embarrassment.

              That might sound a bit silly, but I find it really helpful when I’m reading over mine or others work and looking for those places where showing would be better than telling. Have you described the symptoms, or just told the affliction?

              Here’s a short list of “afflictions” and their associated “symptoms” to get you started (but make sure to explore how different characters express different afflictions, even in more odd or unusual ways!)

Any symptoms I missed?            

[tinglingfuckingsensation]

We've a lot of starvin' faithful

That looks tasty, that looks plenty

This is hungry work

Take me to church - Hozier || Baberoe

Hungry Work on AO3 (Rated E)

Fic Summary:

Gene knows he’s not right, knows he should not enjoy grasping other men’s ankles and wrists and chins in his hands as much as he does, should not admire the look of broad shoulders and thick thighs in green uniforms, so he clamps down tightly on all his urges and prays.

OR

Medics need to keep their distance, and Gene does, until he can't.

Half character study, half love story, with a lot of religious guilt and prayer.

[clockwards]

truly genuinely fascinating watching s3ep20 House Training with the Wilson stuff. He really is just like that. Hes genuine. He takes women to lunch and plays and museums and does it with a smile on his face and not an ounce of bad intent. And he does it again. And they fall in love because he's so affably kind and senselessly caring and he blinks those big brown eyes at them and lets it happen. He lets it happen. He does know what he's doing. Because he is all about other people's love, other people's pleasure, and just like House he finds some eternal, niggling curiosity about /why/. So he figures it out, he follows this new woman's footsteps and lays out the red carpet until theres nothing left but a thread.

There is one red thread Wilson pulls to make everything and it is connected straight to House. Tug of war, babey.

[corpsentry]

wrote myself out of the bathtub today, soggy and miserable but very much alive

[booksnblocks]

Imagine it, the whole world laid out before you, your best friend at your side. You laugh and prank everyone together, and these are the best days of your life. You don’t know what lies ahead, but you don’t need to; as long as it’s your friend by your side, nothing matters.

Together you help defend a country, just barely born. You fight with blood all over, knuckles scraped from a sword too big to carry, but your friend is there to carry that sword with you. You win, and you lose, but you are together against the world. Through thick and thin, through scars and first deaths, you are tied by fate, loyal to the very end.

You watch as this country you fought for falls. Your friend is behind you as you run away, sword hand. It’s not his choice; it never is. But he is your best friend, and you fight for each other. He is your spy and your right hand man, and he is loyal. And when he faces the world on his own, you can only watch as the sparks fly.

He doesn’t blame you. Why would he? You are best friends, the two of you against the world. And so when you give up your presidency and it lands on his shoulders, you are his right hand man. You plan together for peace, and for a time, there is peace, and pranks. But peace is short, and soon there are walls to many to count, and the world seems to shrink in, tighter and tighter until there is nowhere left to go. You watch your friend exile you, send you away from this land you’ve built together.

You are alone, save for the ghosts of what once was. Your best friend (are you sure?) watches from the dunes as you stand in the waves. He never speaks, never moves closer. The compass in your pocket is heavy. It hurts to look at it, but you do, watching the needle spin about aimlessly. Your acquaintance has one just like it, or he did. Your new friend tells you he destroyed it, and then he destroys what little you have left. You’re not sure if you have any friends. Did you ever?

You don’t know he found your tower. When you first see each other, it is like the world is between you. He thought you were six feet under; you still wish that was true. There is nothing left to be said; you have no friends. You fight when you meet in the ruins, surrounded by the world.

You let your pain show, and you can’t take it back. Those are the words that hurt most, more than when you were exiled. You pledge yourself to your only friend, and then, the world is seemingly so small. It is something worth fighting for, with a friend by your side.

You fight, and you lead, and your friend, your best friend, is at your back. You fight for hours, but it is never enough. You are too small against giants, and the country you founded is further than six feet below. Nothing remains, save for your friend from those very first days.

Together you seek out the enemy. Two become one as you fight for the beautiful music, but somewhere, the steps of this dance change, Your best friend is at the end of an axe, and you have to lose. It’s still the two of you, after all this time, and you are tied together. Nothing can separate you, not again.

You hold each other in the dark of the vault. You have nothing, but there is a small weight in your pocket; it points from one to the other, unwavering. You have nothing, but you have each other.

Surely that’s more than enough to fight for.

[devils-advocate-writes]

there are many new endings in slay the princess: pristine cut. most involve the princess and the long quiet getting closer and closer to understanding their true natures, to the world they are trapped in.

one set of routes gets them the closest, however.

every route stemming from chapter II: the tower gets our main characters the closest they ever truly get to recognizing themselves, each other, and their situation.

heavy spoilers below!

color key: chapters, voices, endings, and recognition

chapter II: the tower

as a quick refresher: in the tower route, you hesitate before attacking the princess. this hesitation costs you your life, as the princess takes advantage and strikes. before she kills you, she shows strength she should not feasibly have and complains that you disappointed her.

in chapter two, the interior of the cabin is massive, making you look tiny in comparison. the princess has become divine, close to godhood but not quite. you now have the voice of the broken with you, who only desires to submit to the princess.

if you fight back, managing to strike the princess and forcing her to attack you with her bare hands.. you have defiled her. she can feel herself turning into something new. you have ruined her ascension, and now you will pay the price. you die, and chapter III: the fury begins.

the tower -> chapter III: the fury

by stubbornly resisting the princess in the last chapter, against all odds, you now have the voice of the stubborn.

the princess, once holy, has been tainted by her violent actions against you. she was so close to godhood! so close to becoming something greater! but now she is... lesser. she will make you suffer for your insolence.

she unwinds you, forcing your guts out into the open.

unwound ending (submit to the princess)

the princess tears you to pieces and remakes you over and over again, begging to know if you're still you. if something torn in two is still recognizable as the whole. ..if the two of you are still whole. you lose yourself in the shifting. you lose your identity. eventually, you even lose the voices of hero, broken, and stubborn. then, the princess puts you back. she is tired. she wants you to understand what she understands, what she got so close to grasping with godhood. ..maybe there's a way you can. the princess looks up at something you cannot see -- the long quiet surrounding you -- and unwinds you both. then, she attempts to weave you together. her heart feels familiar. but then it is ripped away from you.

quantum beak ending (take the knife -> refuse)

but you don't have to submit. you continue moving forward, inching closer to the princess. she doubted your resolve before. she will not make the same mistake. she spreads you around the entire room. you cannot move. cannot do anything but perceive your own situation. this can't be the end. stubborn won't let it be. so, you choose to die. you begin returning directly to the basement. you attack, and you are unwound. over and over and over again. the other voices attempt to help, but all fail and fade. until the voice of the cold. cold numbs the pain. you persist through being unwound, and become nothing. yet you still exist. the cold says this feels... natural.

you attack with threads of nothing -- threads of the long quiet.

something clicks for the princess as she dies. she apologizes, now understanding something. something about you both. and then she is taken from you.

the tower -> chapter III: apotheosis

if you died in any way in the tower, without fully resisting and defiling the princess, you return to the woods. this time, however, things are different.

you do not make it to the cabin before the princess rises from the ashes. her ascent to godhood has truly begun.

whatever actions you take next, you eventually leave the confines of "this world of illusions". you are in the long quiet. the princess raises a hand to run through the threads... and you feel it. you feel her hand. you still feel it when she begins to hurt you with it.

grace ending

no matter what choices you made in the tower, nor what voices or items you have with you, you may submit to the princess at any point. the princess tears a hole in the long quiet - in you - revealing a true, colorful reality on the other side. you both feel like you belong there. yet, you are blocked. the princess cannot leave. the shambling mound is taking her. but before it can, she chucks you towards the hole she made. the world will always be dark without her, comments broken. it closes before you can reach it. so close. and you go again.

the voice of the contrarian: restrain ending

you told the princess exactly what she was meant to do, yet defied both her, the hero, and the narrator both. you killed yourself, and now you are joined by contrarian. you take the knife.

choose to embrace the goddess. feel the pain, and a need to strike back. so you do, and the princess is restrained by tendrils of the long quiet. you see the hole into the other reality, though you do not reach for it. the princess says that you two could have had everything if you had given her anything. but now you are stuck. and then you go again.

the voice of the paranoid: unraveled ending

you refused to tell the princess what she was destined for. she tore into your mind herself to find that information. because of that, you now have paranoid with you.

and he gives you everything the contrarian narrowly missed.

immediately, paranoid puts two and two together and realizes your thoughts can change everything in this world. and you can do whatever you want, as long as you believe you can. as he says.. none of this is real. you take the knife and successfully attack, though you still end up in the long quiet. still realize that you are the long quiet. yet, paranoid takes his full power against her. you are the nothing, and you attack with nothing. you unwind her. "she is bound to you, and you are bound to her. hollow echoes of what you used to be." and then she is taken. and then you go again.

...

you get so close. so, so close. you learn that you can control this world, that this world is fake, that you are nothing, that you are the long quiet, that the princess is a goddess, that you were once one, that there is a world beyond that you both belong in, that you two could have everything.

and then she is gone. and then you go again.

[parchmentknight]

are we all insane over the hoodie guy collective or is that just a niche fandom thing

[ophiotartarus]

the untapped potential for supernatural / locked tomb au crossovers is gently smothering me in my sleep!!!!

i mean apart from the fact that point blank Dean and Gideon fulfill the same archetype in their respective stories, the mystery and gruesome magic of each world brings out a different kind of sandbox for the other to play in! like okay

an spn!au where emotionally unavailable himbo Gideon and reticent college dropout Harrow reconnect after a fraught childhood together to track down the demon that burned their town (Harrow's parents were infertile and made a deal with a crossroads demon that killed 200 people)

or Harrow is stuck living through different aus and has to figure out a way to stop the trickster god that's causing it

or ghosthunting worsties Ianthe and Gideon occasionally ask for information from a vindictive demon with her own agenda but both have been developing a crush on her it's getting kind of ridiculous AKA they call on Harrow at the same time and she has to stage an intervention

OR THE INVERSE!!

a cav!Dean necro!Sam au where they hunt the evil spirits that come up from the river to possess 8th house cavaliers

or lyctor!Castiel at caanan house falling for dean and telling him not to sacrifice himself to become something he deeply regrets – possibly playing the role of Cythrea here and killing multiple innocents to try and stop anyone from ascending but maybe he gains a little too much of a conscience in his short time there

or a BOE au where the brothers storm the mithraeum only to find out John (!!), the emperor undying, is their father... thinking specifically about of the soulless!Sam and Kiriona parallels !!!!

like there's been ghosthunting aus in the tlt tag but i cannot find one single sincere crossover on a03 and i need somebody fix this! the potential!! aaahhh!!!!

[spotaus]

Tauverse thought!

All of the boys (except Cross, rip Cross) love working on all sorts of projects that bring them back to the days that they were Sans. (I like to think Killer was from a normal timeline, Dust was from a Dadster timeline, and Horror came from a handplates version of his au. So, in this vein, they also all have preferred specialities.

Killer likes to study magic, sure, but he's figured out he likes chemistry a lot too. He can recite the periodic table off the back of his head no-sweat, and can probably make at least 5 explosives with just some stuff lying around the mansion thanks to chemical reactions :] However he takes his practice very seriously, so he's only liable to mess stuff up in *other* aus when on missions. In the mansion he's the go-to for getting stains out of your shirts and destroying evidence of wrongdoing. He has at least 1 jar of highly corrosive material up on his shelf.

Dust is an engineer at heart. His dad was always good with the living stuff, but Dust was responsible for a LOT of the wacky traps and conveyor belts in Hotland back in the day, and he only fell out of experimenting and building when he had to start taking care of Paps. He'll do all sorts of stupid shit around the mansion. His most iconic was when he installed orange lazers in the hall outside Killer's room just outside his door. No one ever got hurt, but Nightmare made him take them out. To quell the pranks, Nightmare set Dust on a quest to install blue-magic traps on every window, exit, and entrance of the mansion. For security purposes. Dust also delights in making Killer random upgrades for his prosthetic once he convinces him + gets Nightmare's permission (technically-).

Horror's main field is Physics. He doesn't exactly remember how or when he stumbled across the passion, but he thinks it was when he and Paps stayed with Asgore for a little while and he got ahold of a book of constellations. His specific track is Astrophysics but he dabbles in particle-physics too. He's a bit out of practice, the head injury sure doesn't help and his field is a lot harder to casually study than the others (Especially in a universe with no stars and no access to any big particle colliders) but Nightmare does his best to let Horror visit surface AUs and go to observatories with telescopes and big ol' satellite dishes whenever possible. The others are also shockingly encouraging when Horror brings up a good point only to lose his train of thought halfway through, usually prompting him back to it because they were genuinely curious.

The three tend to have nights where they don't have a mission the next day and they'll sit there and talk about their favorite topic, current project, plans, etc. They used to do it secretly in the training room but now they have a dedicated white-board in the main living room just for it. (Their marker colors are: Purple (Dust), Blue (Killer), Green (Horror), Red (Nightmare), Pink (Cross))

It used to be just Killer and Dust for a long time, but after Killer's leg Horror finally stopped being so nervous around them.

Nightmare occasionally sits in because. Well. He's from a universe where he's pretty sure people were still blood-letting to heal sickness in areas without magic, so most of this "science" is something new to him. It's a good bonding activity because Nightmare gets to see the guys passionate and excited to talk about something, and the guys see Nightmare as a bit more down to Earth, if just briefly.

And at some point Cross is dragged into the hang-out nights and encouraged to talk. He doesn't *do* science though, he'd always been training for the royal guard. So the others tell him to just talk about *something*, doesn't have to be science, and it results in Cross going on long linguistic rants. Because while he was with Dream he got to meet Epic, and Color (a different one from the dead one), and Delta, and CORE Frisk, and a bunch of other aus and got curious about why people all had different speech patterns and dug into that... a lot. And everyone's really just interested and they'll sometimes request explanations of words/phrases for the next time they meet up-

But yeah. Nightmare tries to keep them curious and motivated (Ccino's suggestion) and letting them indulge their interests really helps.

[jennilah]

au where Strahm loses his voice entirely & permanently from the tracheotomy

food for thought

[prince-liest]

more self-indulgent jgy abo headcanons

I read a fic so long ago that I no longer remember the fandom nor characters involved, but the thing about it that really stuck in my mind was that it was an abo-verse fic that used the concept that omegas have an ingrained biological need for physical (including platonic) affection, to the point where “touch-starvation” was a medical diagnosis

this is obviously extremely up my alley for ALL my blorbos, but consider jin guangyao in particular:

unlike the usual ‘omega pretending to be a beta’ trope, I think that once he is established at jinlintai, he would not really try to let people assume that he’s a beta. being an omega leads people not only into underestimating him, but also into offering him a certain degree of safety in providing a veil of stereotype-associated demureness, placidity, etc. it is more to his benefit for people to see him as a polite young man, perhaps even one who, yes, is a war hero - but people can’t quite imagine what kinds of things he must have done for that. surely nothing too bad.

but at the same time, this is the character who couldn't even serve tea to people as nie mingjue’s deputy without people making a show of wiping off their fingers after touching the cups. people know he is an omega, people judge him for being an omega on top of all the other things he is already judged for, but I suspect that most of the relevant and appropriate people in jinlintai avoid touching him unless absolutely necessary. in a world where casual contact is thoroughly commonplace just due to the socialities set up by their biology, jin guangyao has a personal space bubble of like 2-3 feet because he's the dirty son of a prostitute.

he walks through the halls, ostensibly the second young master of the tower, and feels like he is drowning in the physical manifestation of loneliness.

who does he have left? family? jin zixuan is not close to him, and frankly is likely an alpha raised by alphas to whom it would not even occur to that such needs need to be minded. jin guangshan certainly is aware, but is using it as leverage, allowing and denying contact as he see fits to manipulate jin guangyao the same way he does with his fatherly affection. there are his sworn brothers, but his relationship with nie mingjue is fraught: certainly da-ge wouldn’t withhold contact as punishment or leverage, but that doesn’t mean he wants to touch jin guangyao anymore, nor does he really understand how the necessity of it feels when he grew up with nie huaisang, an omega who has never been shy about taking whatever affection he wants. and er-ge... he just isn’t around enough.

lan xichen is still the best option, and by the time they have the opportunities to see each other, jin guangyao is pressing nails into his palms to stop from just plastering himself up against lan xichen’s side, which surely would be humiliating for both of them. but still, he’s so aware of it any time they’re in the same room, meting out as many small touches as he can get away with without embarrassing himself. lan xichen slips his fingers over jin guangyao’s wrists as he pulls him up from a bow, intending warm affection. jin guangyao doesn’t want to let him know that it feels like being allowed to gasp for a single breath of air before his head is shoved back underwater.

(with nie mingjue, it is worse. da-ge is just as aware as jin guangyao is when they touch, but for all the worst reasons.)

it is the strangest blessing whenever jin guangyao sees nie huaisang. it’s embarrassing, a little - the knowledge that nie huaisang understands, unlike most people in jin guangyao’s life. but nie huaisang takes that embarrassment onto his own self willingly, never hesitating before making a fool of himself in the way that only a terminally younger brother can, and simply flinging himself into his san-ge’s arms. it’s nostalgic, too: nie mingjue isn’t quite so aware of how important touch is with how proactive nie huaisang can be, and so during his days as deputy, it was often nie huaisang who gave meng yao what he could not ask for.

the cultivators at jinlintai look down on him just as the ones in the unclean realm did, but now there is no willing young master to soothe away the tangible, physical ache of it. more often than not, jin guangyao tucks his hands into his sleeves to hide the way his fingertips shake.

anyway this is my petition for jiang yanli to take two looks at this situation and promptly wrinkle her brows just the slightest amount, expressing quiet concern to jin zixuan that it’s strange how she doesn’t see anybody touch his half-brother very much, does she? and jin zixuan is a little confused, a little embarrassed, a little off-balance - he doesn’t feel close enough to jin guangyao to be that casual, but he’s an alpha, he doesn’t get it until jiang yanli explains to him, with a beta’s patience, the value of family bonds to an omega as well as jin zixuan’s responsibility as a brother (older brother? younger? his father claims older, but there’s no way to truly know - ), and isn’t it wonderful, having a little brother?

and then someone pats jin guangyao over the head until he’s feeling a little less strung-thin and out of options, he realizes he has to keep jin zixuan and jiang yanli alive lest he actually lose his mind (sympathy for da-ge? oh no...), and etc etc things end happily ever after, the end, QED.

[josephseedismyfather]

last line+

Many, many thanks to @cassietrn, @cloudofbutterflies92, @omen-speaker, @carlosoliveiraa, @noodlecupcakes, and @simplegenius042 for tagging me in my favorite tag recently! 😍🥰 I will never, ever get tired of this tag!

Writing has been hit and miss, but I have been able to actually work on all 3 fics a little bit. As it has been so long since I've shared some writing, y'all can get a little bit of all of them. 😁 Completely unedited, none of them are ready to go. Still never sticking the one line.

Afflicted - Chapter 3 Jacob was intimidating as she kneeled, pretending to focus on her bike, refusing to make eye contact. The gravel bit into her skin, but she hardly felt it. "Looks like you were wrong, girl," his voice made the hair on her arms stand up. Harley scowled. "Wrong about what?" She could hear the smirk. "You couldn't help it. Couldn't help yourself. Told me you wouldn't be seeing me again and here you are. Practically offering yourself on a silver platter."

Parenesis - Chapter 2 She jumped as the bathroom door swung open hard, hitting the wall loudly. "Hey-" Derek was furious. She shut her mouth instantly. He never got angry like this. She didn't realize she had retreated until her back hit the sink. "If you ever undermine me in front of clients again, Angie," his finger was in her face, "we will have problems. You will not talk to me like that again." And just like that, he was gone again. Evangeline swallowed, determined not to cry as the door shut slowly. She stared at the wall, noticing a dent where the door handle had hit it.

Untitled(shared) Johnny WIP - Chapter 2 The smile on Mother's face was unsettling. He squirmed at the table, uncomfortable, unsure what to say, but not daring to look away. His father cleared his throat. He felt his face get hot. "We will not hear any more talk of before. You will do as we say. This is your home now. You will follow our rules, or there will be consequences." he nodded, blinking rapidly. The smile on her face got wider. "We saved you, John. You will be grateful. Do you understand?" He nodded again. Her hand was cold as her fingers wrapped around his wrist firmly. "No. Do you understand, John?" "Yes."

Opt-in/out of tag list here.

@wrathfulrook, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @trench-rot, @ladyoriza, @redreart

@inafieldofdaisies, @hotmessteaparty, @g0dspeeed, @voidbuggg, @insanityofvaas

@malefiquinn, @strangefable, @skoll-sun-eater, @chazz-anova, @aristomal

@ocdemon-747, @evilvvithin, @la-grosse-patate, @grimmylover7, @3llisarts

@scorpiosleeps, @direwombat, @raresvtm, @walder-138

@simonxriley, @strafethesesinners, and anybody with something to share. Tag me! 😘

[amaraudermind]

“Cleo you don’t know what it’s like.”

“I really don’t. But thank goodness I would know I would never have betrayed my day one ally.”

And they believed that. With every fibre of their being, every earnest thought inside them, they believed it.

Cleo remembered the bitter taste of an ax-head biting into her back. Remembered calling out to no avail, her ally, her friend giving chase before cutting her down in the river. They remembered the pain. But more than that, she remembered the rage.

She remembered more than others attributed to the situation, too. Promises made on the eve of destruction, oaths sworn upon with fervor. No secrets, no betrayals. They remembered trading assurances that none of their Fairy Alliance saw red this day, the message that popped up proving Lizzie had lied. And still Cleo had sought to trust them all.

So what if Lizzie had lied? It could have been harmless. It was harmless, she hadn’t come after any of them.

But she hadn’t been the only liar.

And Cleo had been the one to pay the price.

They felt further vindicated in their fury when their new ally fought the curse entirely. If it was possible to avoid killing altogether, it couldn’t have been hard to choose not to kill a specific person. Even when he had killed, it hadn’t been someone close to him at all. And if Scott could decide to not kill, then Cleo was sure she could as well.

Was certain she’d never betray someone because of something as irritating as a curse.

Of course, knowing of the curse, and of the kills, from afar was a pale imitation of what had occurred. Cleo may know that Scott killed, but not the frenzy that took place with it. The panic of having to kill someone, of having to make sure they can’t tell anyone you have it. They’d seen the cool way Scott had handled himself while assuring others he wasn’t going to kill them, but they couldn’t hear the incessant voice craving death death death death. They didn’t know the dread of feeling the curse settle over his bones like an old friend, whispering let’s play this game again, and the terror that brought a horrid need to get it gone as fast as possible.

She’d never felt the itch under her skin, the way it could consume a person.

For all they had seen, for all Cleo had learned about the curse they’d brushed with over the years, They didn’t know.

They didn’t know.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Seven Sentence WIP Game

Tagged by @sageadvice thank you!

Wasn't sure if this was supposed to be the last 7 sentences I wrote or just pick 7 from anywhere, so combining the two with almost the last 7 from the last page I worked on, in the ongoing jumping around mess i've created of scenes between my Juniper Aldwir & Lucanis:

"I think you're funny. And clever. And kind." Rook opens her eyes, meeting his directly, and he has to remind himself to breathe. "And a really good cook." Lucanis shoves down the surge of emotions that well inside him. "It's nice to be useful," he tells her, resuming rubbing small circles at her temples. She closes her eyes again, tilting her head back into the pressure of his hands. "You don't have to be useful, either. Just yourself."

tagginggggg @baejax-the-great @m-m-m-myysurana @songofamazon @luzial @serbarris! and anyone else who wants to consider yourself tagged and @ me in it bc i have suuuuch a hard time remembering who writes vs draws vs etc whenever i get tagged in things. and need more people to bother with them lol

[devils-advocate-writes]

just watched the new fury route for the pristine cut and i just.

we stop being anything, after a few bodies. yet we still exist. interestingly, the voice of the cold recognizes this as ... natural.

we attack the princess with threads, recognizable as threads of the long quiet.

after we do this, the princess seems to realize something. she stops, and says she didn't realize what we were. she regrets what she did, now that she knows.

this route is the closest the long quiet and the shambling mound truly get to recognizing each other. to becoming themselves once more.

and it's heartbreaking when it's over. we almost had it. and it's gone again, and we start over once more.