#youre getting ALL OF THEM and i'm not halfassing it either!

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 27: Misery is a Butterfly

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Summary of chapter: Sometimes people aren't worse off alive. It's at your lowest where loved ones hold you most close.

Author's Note:

Major content warning for disassociation. That's more or less what this chapter is about.

The song for this chapter is Misery is a Butterfly by Blonde Redhead, and it was suggested by my dear friend Moonfly (@mabzerie) as something that reminded them of the performer. I think it's perfect and ever since hearing it (around the posting of chapter 24, oddly enough, which featured a butterfly) I knew it had to be in the story. I think it's gorgeous and I appreciate so much being exposed to new music I wouldn't know otherwise.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dearest Jane, I should've known better

But I couldn't say hello, I don't know why

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The darkness swallowing them is both vast and so very, very compact. Down, down down...a little hole in the ground, maybe. Not a cave; there is no stone.

“You’ll be okay.”

Material around them too soft to echo this assurance, instead absorbing the sound. She wonders, then, if it too keeps her from hearing more up and outside. He’s on top of her, the smallest drip of light raining down from above slicking the sides of a fiery mask. As hard as she can look— which is admittedly not very— there is still no hint of an eye in that black circle. It mirrors her own, layering over the one she was afraid to lose, the one that in turn had once been turned black with an attack just before she met the Akatsuki.

Just as when they tumbled in the grass and weeds, he keeps her pinned down now, too, hands interlocked with hers with his body blocking as much view as possible, whatever little there may be. A racing heart begs her ears to listen, to hear if there are the breaking of more spinal chords, the spilling of viscera just outside of wherever it is Tobi has taken her to hide and wait for it all to be over. Knuckles curl so hard grabbing his fingers, a necessity when the stranger is so, so afraid. Her bottom eyelids are sore and wet, and it moistens the musky soil beneath her head once done trailing down her face. To keep from screaming, lest they be found, she bites her lip until it punctures, and the scent of blood makes her sick. Blood, blood, blood. She has caused so much blood.

“You’ll be okay.”

The word “you” is on purpose, she knows, no promise of an “it” being okay to be found. Though his hands cannot move, his body clad in clothes as shadowy as this place moves in closer, his chest against hers. He can feel every shake in her diaphragm as she struggles to control her breathing. It seems as if each time her lungs tremble, his assert— a strong, calm, even breath trying to put hers back in rhythm. It is so...perplexing. Even in her panic, the woman is surprised that Tobi, too, isn’t hyperventilating just as she is. Her eyes struggle to stay open with it being so dark, exhaustion asking her to sleep once more, even as things are. But he, poignantly, either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

Where her expression likely fails, she tries to convince with her voice. “I’m scared.”

So softly, a voice much less silly than she’s used to, serious as the grave. “I know.”

“Tobi…” she tries to explain her deepest fears, “I need to stay awake...”

He doesn’t answer. She listens again, searching for shrieks of pain and shouts of agony. The absence of them is even worse. That means that she will not know when it is over. Her eyelids grow heavier.

“Tobi…” But nothing happens. Maybe she isn’t explaining it right; maybe he just doesn’t get it. Blood and tears wash into each other, staining the roots and ivy with her soul. “Tobi...help me stay awake…!”

But nothing happens. He presses closer, that rhythm forcing hers to slow. As they curl around each other, his fingers stroke hers.

No...he wants her to fall asleep.

The eye that mirrors hers is briefly lit by drifting moonlight. It is blood red. Just after that cold, orange ceramic presses a mouthless kiss onto her bleeding lips, and she is gone.

...You’ll be okay.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But now I think, I think you were sad

Yes you were, you were, you were

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

She hasn’t talked in two days.

A name it is for Hidan and Kakuzu, but it is still more befitting for her: a zombie. Her eyes are half shut and she wobbles even when seated. Even in the safety of her home once again, told all is well and there is nothing to fear, she has become so small that it’s almost like she isn’t there at all.

But she is. She can never make herself so tiny as to not exist, even by withdrawing completely. And the absence of her spirit makes the presence of her body so much bigger to the Akatsuki. Some of them don’t get it at all:

“Hey!” Hidan folds his arms. “Didn’t you miss me?!” It’s a far welcome from the last time they reunited. It isn’t until he says anything that she so much as looks at him, let alone throw herself at the fellow Jahsinist. It takes everything in her to just nod, a reaction so light that it makes him grunt in confusion. “You sick?!” She shakes her head no, and his brow furrows over eyes narrow in frustration; he has forgotten the chemicals so soon. “Then what’s wrong!”

The reaper is so annoyed, and yet she can’t say anything at all to make this better. With the remnants of fading will, she walks into him and lets Hidan do the rest, her arms wrapped to her sides within the thin blue sweater she’s using as a swaddling blanket. His violet eyes widen and another vocalization rumbles in his throat, pitch heightening alongside his alarm. A hand grips her shoulder to shake her awake and she tries to ignore the weapon on his back. How many people has he killed with it? How many that him asking one from her meant so little?

And yet she does not leave the comfort of his bare chest, the triangle of his lord pressed on her skin.

“Takara? Angel?!”

She says nothing. It is the first time Hidan has ever really felt sick in his stomach since becoming a full grown adult.

Some others are afraid to do more harm:

“Hidan.” The named man looks over her head, locking onto Kakuzu as he walks back in the door, returning from the mission. The stitched one, in turn, is staring down at her; there a softness in those eyes that the Jashinist has not known. “Don’t bother her right now.”

The silver demon sputters. “Bother?!” Even as they fight, the woman does not flinch; that is the real sign something is very wrong. “She just came up to me!”

“Then let her stay until she’s done. Don’t keep her.”

“Why?!”

She hears a silence, vision steeping in the black and red cloak that folds near her face. There’s nothing left in her to flip in anxiety. If she feels the bounty hunter still looking, she cannot bring herself to care. Apparently this silence means something to the two immortals. After some minutes of laying down while standing up, she takes a step back and they leave. Hidan gives repeated, reluctant glances over his shoulder as he observes her own hunched, a frown towards the floor and eyes that don’t seem to see. Kakuzu presses a palm on Hidan’s back to urge him to keep going. He’s never touched him that gently before.

Some of them are concerned for her health:

“You should sit back down, un.” An unknown amount of time later, the stranger finds a hand with a blue ring guiding her back to the couch where she was. Another of his needs to grip her arm, too, lest she plop down haphazardly instead of gradually fall. Deidara’s brow curls and he tilts his head. His smile never wavers in position but does so easily in meaning. “You sure she doesn’t have a sickness of some kind, my man?” he asks the next person walking in, worry tinging the usual lax attitude.

Some of them don’t know how to say they’re sorry:

“No. Nothing’s wrong with her,” Sasori answers, a front of unfeeling defensively about him. “This is of her own doing.”

“Technically it’s your fault, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“But you—”

“But nothing.” She doesn’t have enough prior knowledge to know that, surprisingly, it is rare for Sasori to interrupt when Deidara argues. The man protests too much; he is, indeed, more antsy than usual. The blonde was too light, though, he wasn’t going in hard enough, someone else will say.

Her eyes shut and open. Day becomes night.

“I don’t understand.” There’s a shake in Sasori’s voice, as he crouches in front of her alone. A ring is on his thumb; she is finding no one shares the same position upon the hand. She sees it twitch and her arm raises forward to him, palm up to beseech, and it's as if it isn't even her doing. His unblinking eyes are so very wide, less like human and more like those of a doll. “There’s nothing wrong. You came back without a scratch. Why?” She doesn’t know if he’s asking for answers from her or himself.

He reaches forward, too, ever so slowly like a puppet trying not to show its strings. His palm comes underneath the back of her hand, flesh of his soft yet cold, almost rubbery. It slides and smooths and flutters around across her skin, and it sends electricity up her arm and down her spine. Gradually, ever so slightly each passing second, the weight of her body grows. Futilely, her limb goes limp as it becomes abundantly clear she will not move on her own. He looks with those wide eyes at her hand like it's a toy he cannot fix. A sin, this is...and somehow it isn't one of hers. “Why? Why are you doing this...?”

She’s sorry, so she closes her eyes and the world once again moves its people in and out of her sight. The scorpion's touch is gone.

Some of them feel they have failed:

“I cannot believe you let this happen!” Yet another unknown length of time later, the blue one is here, leaning all of his self into the unflinching space of a redhead. They are standing in the entryway of this living room, and it is still dark out, her a mute witness with no one to tell. Sasori regained his hooded gaze and Kisame’s eyes even so small and far away clearly are as big as possible. They may be reddened, too. It’s hard to tell. “I’ve expected this from the other two but you couldn’t just leave my low expectations well enough alone, could you!?”

A tsk and nothing more. This may have been going on long enough that Sasori is finally tired of giving retorts.

“Give me one reason Samehada shouldn’t shave that wood of yours off slice by slice like the teensy twig you are—”

“Kisame.”

Some of them...know better.

Itachi out of the corner of her sight— so close, he got so close without her noticing; she has enough wits about her to know this lack of awareness should scare her, but not enough energy to care. The Uchiha steps in front of her, the familiar black and red that haunts her life blocking half her vision. She can’t see the scorpion who had stung her in fear, but she can see a shark’s teeth grit as if he’s taken a bite of her flesh and is afraid of what he’s done.

“Itachi-san…” Less that these are words spoken and more that she can read his lips. Kisame’s glance twitches back and forth, presumably between the Uchiha’s face and hers. “I’m sorry,” he backs down submissively to the former. Fish eyes go down to the space on the couch. “I’m sorry,” he repeats just for her. The most she can give is a blink. Concerned, he steps forward—

“Kisame.” The voice that gave her peace now gives this named man dread. “Come back later.”

Despite himself, the kiri-nin knows this is for the best if his partner has deemed it so. Itachi, after all, knows him better than he knows himself. He feels his mouth stretch to show more teeth, unsure himself if it’s a grimace or a pathetic, apologetic smile. And even though he knows his partner will, Kisame still begs: “Take care of her, Itachi-san.”

And he may or may not nod in reply. Seeing Sasori stare back in silence, her lids shut before Kisame can finish turning his back, and when they open again the man with two sets of eyes blink their dark gray as he leans in front of her from where he sits, most likely right next to her. Are they touching sides again, as they did some time ago? She can’t tell.

“Takara-chan…” he whispers. He’s never called her that before. They are alone, no Kisame nor Sasori. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Takara-chan…” He seems to be contemplating something. “I’m going to help you sleep now. Don’t be afraid.”

She wants to scream at him to stop, but the red eyes raise to bring darkness upon her. Lids shut once more. She feels a press against her forehead and a few strands of hair drifting upon her skin that aren’t her own. He kisses her sweet dreams, sweeter than those he can have for his own.

A small reprieve. The weight of being alive in an unmoving shell loosens, shackles dropping from her wrists. She stands at the ocean and an arm with a crimson ring holds her from behind, a chin on top of her shoulder.

The woman named Takara wonders if he may know these waves, too.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

What I say, I say only to you

Cause I love and I love only you

Dearest Jane, I want to give you a dream

That no one has given you

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“She’s still like this…” It’s hard to miss him, and not just because the sheer size of Zetsu can only command attention. He tilts his shoulders forward and she remembers the corpse dangling down from tall, jagged spikes. He saved her, though… Saved her from what? What does it mean if the Akatsuki have deemed she is not better off dead?

“She can hear us,” the deeper voice observes, lips speaking without movement. Brighter returns: “Ghost?” White Zetsu prods.

G h o s t …

The sky is bright outside, color flooding in from either dusk or dawn; she is guessing the latter. She feels her head bob and lips part, but that’s as far as the frayed connection between mind and body allows. She hears a crack and it reminds her of the bones. The flytrap is lowered and cloak on the ground, and arms reach to hold her hands as she can offer no dance. Zetsu kneels on the floor in front of where she is frozen upon the couch. Black...white...how does he work? Do they take turns in control? Do they both have to move at once, independently? The dark hand grips so tight it hurts while the light strokes a thumb upon her knuckles. What could he want from just a little ghost...? 

“You’re a funny one,” the softer voice whispers. She thinks he is too.

Just as soon as he came, he is gone with others in the spy’s place. Her stomach hurts and is making noise.

“How long since she ate?” Deidara frowns from one chair as she sees an amber ring on blue fingers come around to hold her side.

“Too long, I’m sure.”

“How long is it that civilian types can go without doing that?”

“Not this long, I know.” There’s a huff of Kisame’s breath in her ear as he lifts her up, carrying much the same way that star ninja did who was just like her. “Come on, princess, let’s try something else…”

Orange soup is in front of her on the kitchen table. A spoon is put in her hand. Her reflection is in the liquid and she doesn’t think that’s what she looks like. Encouragement from the sidelines, someone yellow and someone blue— rings opposite that— ahead of her in other seats:

“Itachi-san made it just for you,” Kisame says, and he resorts to something he normally does not for she who takes things so seriously: guilt-tripping. “You can’t disappoint him, now can you?”

Deidara rolls his eyes with a growl. “Hardly a reward!” He fans himself in a self-aggrandizing way. “Takara-chan, you finish that bowl and I might just paint your nails again.”

“Might? Hardly a reward, yourself.”

“I mean, of course I’ll do it, un!”

They bicker like this, as her stare swims in the dish, half-closed eyes lost in a vegetable soup. The pieces within bob ever so slightly up and down, trailing past the reflection of her face. It begins to look less like it’s supposed to be her and more like she’s just fucking staring at a bowl of soup. That’s a good thing.

As the sound of her friends fills her vacant mind, it is easier to find her senses reconnecting. Her fingers twitch the muscles under skin and on top of bone, and she manipulates it ever so slightly into a hold better suited to eat. The clock on the wall behind her two guests says it’s about half an hour until she’s done. They really sat there that long…?

...Well. Granted Deidara needed the aid of having something for his fingers to do and Kisame looked pained the entire time. But still, very nice of them to be so patient. She drops the spoon into the bowl to indicate it is done. The swordsman sighs as if he’s been holding his breath.

“Good.”

Deidara is a man of his word, opening his polish as they sit on the floor where they’ve had their few prior “sleepovers”. He demonstrates again how to stretch out your fingers and she manages to replicate, letting him hold in place with a gentle, precise touch as the scent of paint sharply fills her nose. She blinks more in these minutes than she has in the past few days.

“See, Takara-chan? No more chips!" The artist is exerting more exclamation than usual, making it seem like a grand achievement. "Perfect match with me again, un.”

...

...

And it is finally his turn to exhale a breath Deidara did not know he was holding, as he sees her wiggle the fingertips at him in the meekest show of excitement he’s ever witnessed. It puts a grin on his face, a satisfaction much like seeing his work explode. That reminds him— 

“Oh— Don’t go ruining your nails over it, but…” The tongue on his face sticks out as he reaches into his pocket. “I finally finished this, un.”

The lips of a palm close as he couldn’t have helped but gave one last finishing touch, the little statue she’s seen him working on since the day they met. It is a girl in a hat wearing a dress and holding a bag over her shoulder. Does she look like that? The thing is cupped in her hands, the amount of detail helping her eyes twitch more and more to take it all in. Blink, blink, blink. It feels like her vision is more in focus than before, edges not quite so fuzzy.

It takes a while for the sculptor to realize that she is returning it to him, the way it’s so slow and gradual how she pushes her palms back in his space. “No, no! That’s yours to keep, un.” But she gets even closer to him; Deidara hums in confusion as the gift is taken back; he twists the thing in his fingers, looking for flaws. “What? What’s wrong?”

Bright blue eye twitched back up with a hum as her index finger unfolds to point at him. “...You want me to keep it for you,” he guesses. The barest of nods, but the point continues. “What?” Continues. “What about me?”

…

Oh. He smiles wide, not the sort he puts on— cool, collected, angled ever so slightly to the side on purpose— but one big and toothy and unabashedly sincere. If this is still a performance, somehow, then it is one that deserves his applause. Even without a voice, what a powerful siren she is.

“You want one of me! Don’t you?” And for the first time since she came back, she smiles too, and Deidara feels like a butterfly. She accidentally closes her eyes...— 

“The hell are you doing out here?”

The sky is dark again by the time Hidan arrives, his own cloak missing just as Deidara’s is. However, the latter is wearing his green pajamas and holding his chin up with pointed elbows on the floor, kicking his legs like the slumber party it is. Apparently Hidan just sleeps naked. She doesn't feel her cheeks prickle pink, but figures they should be.

“I could ask that of you, really. Would it kill ya to put on some pants?”

“Yeah it fucking would!”

“And in front of the lady, no less.”

“Who cares? She’s not like…awake. Or whatever.”

“She isn’t comatose, un.”

She feels Hidan’s stare on her as she lays sideways on the couch; it is even more distracting than his uncovered body. He’s frowning. “Then what is she?”

“Traumatized, I think.”

“Hilarious—”

“I mean it, though. That’s what Sasori said, too.”

“Traumatized by what? She fucking survived!”

“Sasori no danna said that we can’t necessarily pick what makes this happen, if it happens to us. Easier for a civilian than a ninja, too. Why don’t you cover up your dick and come back, if you don’t plan to leave alone. She still has eyes and ears, un.”

She can feel him staring still, judging if that’s the case, and does her best to blink at him. Gradually his face gains a color usually reserved for her and he rubs the back of his head, gaze bashfully turning away. “Yeah, okay. Fine.”

He comes back some time later with his bottom half now dressed, a bare arm over that of the couch nearest her head. Hidan is positioned in such a way that she can't see him, but most assuredly he is very, very close; every so often a finger tickles the top of her scalp. “So you can hear me, right?” Hidan asks, though not waiting for a response. “So what’s up, girly? What’s there to be afraid of when you didn’t even get hurt?”

Only this woman would know so well to not assume this is an accusation but a genuine question. It's clearly more difficult now that her voice isn't here to explain it all, how the sickness in her brain works. But as much as she wants to answer...—

“Ask her later,” Deidara butts in, and somehow he says exactly what she means to. “Talking seems to be the hardest part.”

Hidan grumbles, and she hears cracks as he rolls his shoulders. It makes her sad, how stiff he's gotten and it's likely her fault. “Well, that’s a huge pain in the ass.”

“Well, yeah. It’d be a great look on you, though.”

“Real comedian tonight, huh? You’re the one with ten mouths.”

“It’s four, un.”

“Still too fuckin’ many…”

She notices this night that Hidan does not fall asleep. His fingers idly comb through her hair and never stop, not until Deidara begins to stir in the morning. She thinks at one point he may have put a kunai into her hand, grunting in disappointment as nothing happened.

The reaper and the artist leave for their breakfast, and while they are gone Sasori holds her arm over a tub and cleans the cut on her forearm again, speaking to her and blinking, as he does when others are around and he needs to pretend to be human once more. The corners of his lips pull up as she finally reacts, the slightest hiss of pain as alcohol on a cloth slips between layers of flesh, and she notes he has never smiled for her until now. His sting is accompanied by a look from brown eyes so soft she can only compare it to chamomile cotton candy.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Remember when we found misery

We watched her, watched her spread her wings

And slowly, slowly fly around our room

And she asked for your gentle mind

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Numb hands grip Kisame for balance as he takes her for a walk, tired mind suddenly much more aware of the vastness of the forest around them, even as the trail remains only on her property. Is all of the forest technically hers, though, or the Akatsuki’s now that they’ve claimed it…?

Hard to own a house if you don’t know where the deed is, though.

“You shouldn’t worry so,” the knight says to his ward, feeling her tension; he is helpless but to, of course, as he acts as her anchor trying to keep a balloon from floating off into the space she's from. “Everything is in place now. Those Hoshi shinobi were all taken care of. We made sure no one got away.” He misunderstands why she is uncomfortable, assuming it is only the threat of others and not also the threat to them. The man exhales. “Here.” Slowly, step by step, they approach one of the overgrown rose bushes she has adopted. The leaves are speckling yellow with various degrees of green still remaining, the petals opened wide and beginning to brown at the tips. “We should take some before they begin to rot. Put them in your flower press, perhaps?”

And at first Kisame’s heart flutters as he sees the princess reach forward, but it quickly drops as sharp eyes recognize she is more than ready to pinch right into the thorns in order to get it—!

A clasp. As has happened before with these two, at first it is tight in panic but soon recognizes its power, and the grip grows less forceful. His hand is so warm as it holds hers, even if it’s to take it away from further harm.

“Here...” Something steeps in his voice as his free arm reaches in the woman's stead, navigating cutting . If she had more wits about her, she’d assume the worst. But now? It might sound something like love.

She does love him, too, after all.

Blue fingers twist the stem so no thorns are left to be found as the flower detaches. It is put into her palm. Just as they did before with Deidara, cupped hands offer the gift back to Kisame, too. He smirks, chuckling. “No, that’s for you.” The red rose retracts to be held closer to her chest, and he wonders in what beautiful way those big eyes are drinking something so simple in.

“That’s...for me…”

And his heart stops beating entirely, having no idea he could miss her voice even more than he thought he did.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Misery is a butterfly

Her heavy wings will warp your mind

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Reluctantly, Kakuzu puts in his own effort with the good news. Giving her something made her talk again… She’s seen him come and go in passing, just to check in, but the hunter’s never stayed until now, gift in his hands. Miser he is, he’s playing smarter and not more expensively.

Off his shoulders and then over hers go the strap of the guitar. “Figure you missed this.” She looks at it dumbly as it rests upon her lap, nothing said, and he sighs. Of course it can't be that easy. “You didn’t forget, did you?” How did it go again…?

With struggling patience, hands wearing a dusty turquoise ring help rearrange her own to hold the instrument properly, taking guesses until it looks right, same as the many nights they spent at a bar together. One hand on the strings, other on the neck. And like a fish to water, soon as his touch retracts, she strums.

Dum...dum...Dum…

He blinks. Okay. Well...it isn’t nothing. Maybe she’ll get back into it, do more than just pluck a single note over and over.

Dum...dum...dum…

Dum…

Dum…

Dum...

…

...

Dum— 

This is getting old fast, actually. “Play a chord,” he half suggests, half demands. The scarred bottom lip purses ever so slightly, and then her wrist winds back to strum proper—

“Takara!”

The front door slams and the treasurer’s partner flings himself in, expression plastered upon his face as if he figured out how to solve world hunger. (Or...err...solve world heathenism? It is very smug, is the point). Kakuzu’s head whips to the sound, glaring daggers so hard his eyes twitch, but Hidan has brought zero fucks to give. What he has instead...—

“I got you motherfucking fish!”

Indeed he did. Upon the coffee table, out of a bag, one after another, is one form of seafood following more, uninterrupted as she merely stares with the guitar in her hands. It's granted her reaction may have been the same even if she had all her senses. Bento box of sushi. Fried crab. A whole fish. Grilled shrimp. A whole fish. More sushi. A whole fish. A living fish—

“HIDAN!”

Forceful hands reveal stitches as that last one comes out, a flopping, wee thing that a fishmonger sold overpriced to a fool who didn’t know better. Her still glance locks onto the creature as Kakuzu knocks his idiot partner into a wall, squabble starting:

“The hell are you doing!” she barely hears out of sight. Flop, flop, flop, gentle but desperate knocks onto wood where the tiny beast was unceremoniously placed. That can’t be comfortable for the fish. It’s kinda small...maybe she can...—

“She told me she liked seafood!” Running water. For some reason these actions are so easy— no, “easy” isn’t the right word. It’s like she’s on autopilot, not even having to think. Maybe it’s because it’s for the betterment of something outside of herself.

“You are the biggest buffoon I have EVER—”

Plop!

“...Eh?” the reaper asks.

In the middle of Kakuzu holding Hidan up by the collar, both look over at once. Kakuzu speaks next, and though it says little, it concedes much: “...Huh.”

Drop. Hidan sinks to the floor, but his fists raise in success. “HELL yeah!” She stands next to the fish in the bowl set upon the coffee table, hands folded in front of her lap as it swims within. It must be happy! Or at least doing better now that it isn’t suffocating. ...How did it get this far without water, anyway? “Well. Not what I expected to happen,” Hidan notes, “But it worked!”

“What worked?”

The silver demon shoots him a look like it's the ragdoll who's from another planet. “She moved, dipshit!”

“Hidan, I—” Kakuzu stops in his tracks, to his dawning horror. That...is the point. He has never exhaled so loud and long in his life, pinching his brow. Idiocy has saved the day. “...Goddammit.”

Her hands politely raise to clap in congratulation, bright smile and closed eyes to match, and Hidan allows himself to feel joy even with no such thing explicitly permitted by his lord Jashin.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

With her small ugly face

And her long antenna

And her black and pink heavy wings

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The performer should have asked herself sooner where on earth her mimic had gone. It’s so strange to have not noticed his absence, the way Tobi always inserts himself into every conversation. Where had he been? She sees his orange mask for the first time since he wrapped around her deep in the ground, guarded her from further harm. How long has it been, a week, perhaps? Time has always been hard to keep in this universe, no appointments to maintain and whatnot, and so it is as elusive as grains of sand blown in the wind nowadays. Tobi faces more towards her while Itachi faces more away. Nodding, talking. It lacks all of the usual mime-like flings of arms and jumping of feet that her rescuer usually puts on. Itachi eventually passes by and leaves.

Quiet. Chickadees twitter somewhere outside. Is the window open? Part of her hopes so, to feel a nice moonlit breeze. Part of her is afraid, as it means another way for someone to attack.

Ever so slightly, the spiral shifts its angle, gaping black hole pointed right at her. The figure in shadow wearing a long, green scarf otherwise stays still. What is he doing? And then…

Step, step, step. He holds his position standing over her for a long moment before ever...so...slowly...crouching down. She thought it was a mistake before— maybe just coincidence— but now it can’t be denied:

Covering where his lips should be, the curve of a spiral bumps against her mouth, about as tenderly as icy stone can. He will be a different person tomorrow. It’s only fair that if she can’t wear her mask, he can set his metaphorical one down, too.

How long until the act slips, the performance fumbles or he bows for the curtain to fall? It is inevitable, but Obito at least knows it won’t be now. His mouth for the sake of her safety will ache in the dark for just a little bit longer.

She sees red again where his eye should be, and the traveler is reminded once again that Tobi is a performer too. The sighing waves of water pull her back into dreams, and she imagines what his bare skin may feel like as he pins her down yet again onto soft and airy stardust sand.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Remember when we found misery

We watched her, watched her spread her wings

And slowly, slowly fly around our room

And she asked for your gentle mind

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[fbfh]

Tate Langdon dating hcs

wc: 1.4k

warnings/content: discussions of yandere behavior and how tate differs from that, general obsessive/codependant tendancies bc it's tate, optional creative arts!reader

pairing: Tate x gn reader (no pronouns/gendered descriptions)

a/n: tate is a babyboy who needs to be kissed on his forehead right fucking now yes I know what he did I'm not taking criticism on this. also I just posted this by accident and had to completely delete and reformat it so if you saw that no you didn't

EDIT: I finished coven and realized I used a gif of Kyle and Zoe instead of Tate and Violet which has now been fixed. I cannot keep these blonde boys straight.

Okay so I don’t even want call this a yandere fic bc this is just about Tate in the source material so I don’t want to label him a full out yandere

But like

He kind of is

The other reason I don’t necessarily want to give him the yandere label is bc most of the time (from what I’ve read at least) yanderes usually don’t have their darling’s best interest at heart/can be okay with them being hurt or in danger

That shit would NEVER fly with Tate

I wrote a whole drabble about this but I know a lot of people have said Tate would kill you so you can be in the house with him forever

Yandere!Tate, yes

Regular Tate?? Hell no!!

There’s an element of selflessness that Tate possesses that gives him an important distinction from the yandere archetype

Because a lot of times yanderes want their darlings all for themselves

They want to be their darling’s only one, which can manifest in very selfish motivations

But Tate?????

Tate cares about your feelings more than his

And he’s proved this by acting selflessly for your benefit over and over 

Even when there is literally zero chance for him to get anything out of it

He doesn’t care

Because his motivations regarding you are genuinely selfless 

You are his priority, point blank period

Because Tate is…. Very dedicated

The thing with him is that when he latches onto you 

He’s on for eternity

Not just for life bc he’s kind of an immortal ghost

He’ll be with you until you decide you don’t want him there anymore

And even then

He’s still going to love you just as much as he does now forever

Like he’s really not one to halfass anything

Especially how he feels about someone

Because he usually either doesn’t give a fuck about them or cares too much

He cares too much about pleasing all the women in the house

He cares too much about trying to make Nora happy, gain her approval and praise

And then there’s you

He either doesn’t give a fuck about someone, cares too much, or in your case, might end up deeply obsessed with and dogmatically devoted to you

Which he is

Honestly all it took was a few days before his heart was in your hands

You probably didn’t even realize for a while just how into you he is

But by the time he’s openly confessing his love for you

By the time he’s telling you that he would never let anyone or anything hurt you

That he cares about your feelings more than his

That he’s never felt this way about someone before

You have a pretty good idea of where he’s at

He doesn’t hide his feelings from you after that, he doesn’t think he could if he tried

Tate is hopelessly devoted to you

There’s no other way to describe it

We know he’s clingy

We know he’s affectionate

We know he’s a switchy bottom with raging mommy issues

We’ve established that

And you could tell all of that since you met him

But when he really lays his heart at your feet

When he really finds himself fully committed to you

That’s when all that in theory becomes in practice

When days go by and he’s glued to your side the whole time

Even just lingering nearby while you’re brushing your teeth or making food 

That’s when you realize that he really really just likes being your lapdog 

He loves it

He loves when you give him casual affection, he loves when you rest your hand on his back or brush hair out of his eyes

And he fucking loves when you use him as a reward or break from other tasks you have to do

Every time your little study timer goes off, you drop what you’re doing and run right over to pull him in for a kiss

He’s already thrown his arms around you

You just make out for like ten minutes until you have to start studying again

If it’s not for something super important he absolutely will try to distract you by kissing your neck and squeezing your waist

If it is super important or a subject you struggle in, he’ll help you study

He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, but he will

Because he knows how important this is to you

So he’ll pull away and start reading you flashcards 

And like

He’ll be happy to do it

He won’t complain or be upset

He won’t have anything else he’d rather be doing

Tate Langdon took “if he wanted to he would” and fucking ran with it

Oh my god

And god help you if you do anything artistic or creative

Because as soon as he finds out that you’re an artist or a writer or an actor or musician or singer or dancer or sewist

Or literally anything else

It will once again alter his brain chemistry

The second you start showing him your art or writing or songs

It fucking changes him

Like

The weight and significance of the renaissance and every major artistic movement and cultural moment ever influenced by the arts is now residing in you

That’s how he feels

He takes one look at what you do and he gets it

He never really cared until now

But jesus fucking christ everything you do needs to be in a museum

Sometimes you see him just staring at your art or rereading your writing and poetry or flipping through your sketchbooks

Watching videos of you in musicals or plays or dance recitals 

Because when he sees the world the way you do

Whatever medium that might be through

Everything makes sense

He understands it, and he feels understood

He feels like you’re talking to him through your art

He feels a sense of peace, tranquility

If you think he couldn’t put you up on an even higher pedestal

Surprise

Not only are you the greatest person in the world

But you’re also an artistic genius 

There’s this deep sense of like

Privilege he feels to see everything you’re creating right now 

Even just your diary entries, the way you shape words, the flow of your stream of consciousness is so beautiful

He watches you so much more closely now, seeing the way you dance in your everyday movements

The way you channel and portray characters so flawlessly when you’re telling him about your day and the drama that happened at school

He could spend days looking through the boxes and albums of photos you’ve taken

He probably has

Because there’s no way to be closer to you than taking in these organic, raw forms of passion and self expression

He can’t get enough of it

Tate is dedicated to you

Not only as your boyfriend

But as your number one fan

Even if you’re not as creative

He still believes you have the best taste of anyone he’s ever met hands down

The books you like, the shows and movies you watch together

Even your music taste

Tate hasn’t liked a single song that’s been released after 1994

Until you handed him a pair of headphones and said you think he’ll like this

You sat him down and listened to the entirety of the black parade by my chemical romance

The whole album

And it changed his whole worldview 

Yet again, one move and you’ve altered his brain chemistry 

Even with other stuff he wouldn’t normally like

He likes it because you like it

He’ll watch Love Island and 90 Day Fiance with you for hours and love every minute of it

He loves feeling close to you, he loves that you want to share things you enjoy with him

He especially loves after a while when you’re starting to get kind of sleepy 

Because you look so soft and adorable like that

But also because he knows he can put his head in your lap and you’ll play with  his hair

You’ll run your fingers through his soft hair and scratch his back

And he feels so close to you

Which is all he ever wants

It’s always going to be you you you

And right now, he has exactly what he wants

[sirfrogsworth]

do you like going on hikes?

Honestly, no.

Even if it wouldn't cause post-exertional malaise, I am just not an outdoor person.

I never have been.

I love walking somewhere if I can get a cool photograph from it. But hiking just to hike has never really interested me. And while I think nature is beautiful and I love taking pictures of it, I very much dislike being in nature. No temperature control, bugs, predators, etc.

But mostly it is incompatible with my CFS, so it isn't really an option anyway.

My dislike of being in nature goes back a long way. In high school I signed up for a weekend Civil War reenactment to get extra credit in my history class. It was basically camping disguised as historical LARPing.

They tried to make it as authentic as possible. All of the food and cooking was period-accurate. Meaning we got mushy beans for dinner and mushy eggs for breakfast. We had to sleep in period-accurate tents with no sleeping bags. So that was cold and uncomfortable. And they didn't really plan a lot of activities, so there was a lot of downtime where 15-year-olds tried to relate to men in their 50s mostly trying to escape their families for a weekend. Some surprising and awkward oversharing ensued.

When we arrived they immediately made us change into ill-fitting, itchy uniforms including period-accurate shoes we had to borrow from the dudes running it all.

The thing is, I have always had big boy feet. Even at 15 years old I was wearing a size 12 wide. They didn't have any shoes wide enough to fit me, yet they insisted I not wear my tennis shoes.

"Ulysses S. Grant didn't have Reeboks, boy!"

So I squeezed my feet into a pair of non-wide 11s and walked around in them all weekend.

That was a mistake.

The big finale of the event was a simulated battle—which I was originally very much looking forward to. It was the entire reason I signed up. We would get to play with muskets and fire blanks at middle-aged Confederate cosplayers.

I mean, who doesn't love shooting fake racists with imaginary bullets?

But by the time of the battle my feet were on fire with pain.

I could barely stand.

Reenactments typically work on the honor system. If you see someone shoot in your general direction, you are supposed to pretend to get shot and fall to the ground. These guys took that rule very seriously. We even had to practice dying the day before during our musket training.

So we all lined up on either side of a giant field surrounded by the forest. We were instructed to prepare our weapons. Our commander shouted orders for us to get in formation. One of them even had a horse and a proper calvary sword. A trumpet sounded. Suddenly this glorified camping trip turned into something legit. Everything had been so halfassed up until this point and I wasn't expecting a scene with the production value of Glory to materialize.

Things got very silent and all you could hear were leaves rustling nearby. I'm pretty sure they were building suspense to impress all of us youngins.

And with an enthusiastic shout, our pretend commanders initiated the battle.

I heard the very first gunshot.

I grabbed my chest.

I dramatically screamed out in pain.

I fell to the ground.

I died.

All in all, I was a Union soldier for roughly 8 seconds.

Technically... I did not see anyone shoot me. I violated the most sacred reenactor code. But I think the honor system was more concerned with people pretending they *didn't* get shot, so I figured it would be okay.

So I just lied in a cold damp field, slipped off my shoes, and let out a huge sigh of relief as my feet expanded back to their normal size. All while a mixture of high school students and unhappily married 50-year-old men pretended to kill each other around me.

(Artist's rendering of me playing dead)

When I finally got home my feet were covered in giant blisters. My mom had to cut my socks off because it was too painful otherwise. I had to stay home from school for two days because I couldn't fit my feet in my shoes without screaming. Eventually those suckers all popped and that was very gross but also immensely satisfying.

And I happily avoided nature ever since.

[frasier-crane-style]

When will you wear wigs, SNW?

The Elysian Kingdom is the second 'silly' episode of the season and it's better conceptualized than the Spock body-swap one... I feel like I should back up to the Spock body-swapping for a moment, because it doesn't quite work in any but a functional way.

So the gist of it is that Spock body-swaps with his fiance T'Pring, but...

T'Pring is a guest star who we barely know, so we're not familiar enough with her to appreciate her 'being' Spock or Spock 'being' her.

They're both Vulcans, so their mannerisms barely differ. They hang a lampshade on this, but if you're doing a body-swap episode and you're admitting that it's essentially meaningless, what's the point except for saying "we did a body-swap episode! Isn't that KOOKY?"

The Elysian Kingdom has a bit more fun with the OOC concept--Pike gets turned into cowardly grand vizier type and either Anson Mount has more range than everyone else in the cast or... no, that's probably it.

Also, in a weirdly porn-brained moment, they imply that La'an and Una's 'characters' in the false reality are girlfriends. It's mentioned that in the children's book this reality is based on, they don't know each other... is the idea that the prepubescent girl who is generating this reality thinks they're having sex? Cuz that's weird, dude.

Or is it just that they're supposed to 'really' be lovers and that's shining through in the false reality? Because I thought their backstory was that Una rescued La'an as a child and then cared for her. Maybe that's not exactly mother-daughter, but it still seems odd to turn that into "they are GAY and having SEX."

Absolutely normal age to meet your future lover who is fifteen years older than you.

That was a sidebar. My main point is, they halfass the bit. The idea is that everyone but M'Benga and Hemmer thinks they're characters in a children's storybook. But then those characters themselves have "are you serious?" reactions to each other doing weird things, when this should all be perfectly normal to them. Characters in Lord of the Rings aren't surprised by magic or cave trolls; that's the setting. It's as normal to them as encountering a car or airplane would be to us.

"Dude," you might say, "it's basically a Holodeck episode. How much internal consistency are you really going to ask for from a lark?"

I'll agree with you there--"this is dumb and makes no sense" is part of the episode's plot--but then we get to the season finale and the gist of it is we flash-forward to the future to see what the TOS episode Balance of Terror would be like with Pike in command instead of Kirk. And they do very little to sell that this is taking place... within The Original Series.

And I know they're unable or unwilling to do an entire show with the aesthetics of TOS, even if TNG and DS9 did so for a scene or episode at a time--apples and oranges, I'm sure.

They don't want to go the whole zeerust direction. But they don't even want to do little things, like making Uhura's hair and uniform match how she looks in TOS.

Is that too big an ask? Because I know with Andor and Rogue One, they at least tried to make the hairstyles and such match up with A New Hope.

Arguably, they went too far, in outright using deleted scenes from ANH as stock footage, but you couldn't say they weren't making an effort. With SNW, it feels like they're making a token effort to homage TOS, but not really committing to the bit, which bugs me.

So, that's two kinds of grooming that irritate me.

[fairytail-whathesays]

If it's okay, Gray and Laxus headcanons? I saw these little clips of them from the fairy tail video game and it was so funny and endearing to me

Another shameless self-plug cuz this is about to be my most-read fic.

Also there is no art of Gray and Laxus even near each other because search engines only ever generate content for other ships when I try to search them. And there's exactly 5 posts in the #graxus tag. So here, have this image I stole from CBR.

These two kind of end up being the power couple of Fairy Tail? Nobody expected it but their relationship is much less dramatic and more stable than most.

These two are both loyal lovers whose love language is favors and acts of service. They have to do relatively little speaking in order to understand each other and their affections.

Laxus has so much pride in Gray. Back in the Battle of Fairy Tail, he was calling the guy a loser. By the time Gray stalked off to go kill Mard Geer, Laxus was like "I can't not date him".

They can commonly be found touching each other in small ways--arms around shoulders, usually, but also heads on shoulders or in laps, or even just holding hands occasionally. The casual PDA isn't too dramatic, but it's consistent.

This is because of the way their magics interact. Laxus radiates his magic, which feels very electric and tingly if he isn't restraining it, while Gray radiates cold, molecules slowing down around him. The two end up balancing each other out and when they touch, they provide each other a strange sense of equilibrium and contentment.

"I always thought your necklace was kind of cool." "I always thought your scar was hot."

The two are both punk-adjacent and enjoy a lot of the same hobbies and aesthetics, with Gray leaning slightly more emo and Laxus leaning slightly more rock. Their dates are surprisingly fun.

Gray is always wearing Laxus' clothes. Everybody knows what it means and he doesn't deny it--except that he also wears Laxus' clothes just because he can. Do they fit? No. Is he still able to make them look halfass decent on him? Yes.

There is something very magical when Laxus kisses Gray that makes the latter just want to stick to him like glue and do it forever. Likewise, when Gray kisses him, Laxus can't help but smile.

These two literally make the front page of fashion magazines when modeling together, they just have insane photogenic qualities.

"Bro" and "babe" are interchangeable, they both answer to either.

Laxus actually proposes after a few years together. He thought about a diamond ring hidden in an ice box but didn't want Gray to swallow it trying to eat the ice.

You didn't ask for them but I'm still gonna provide u the ns/fw headcanons just cuz i might not get another chance:

NS/FW:

Gray, unlike a lot of people Laxus is shipped with, doesn't like sex rough or super-energetic. To him it's more about intimacy and exploring the other's body, and Laxus is very receptive to this kind of sex. They're slow, gentle, and relatively quiet.

Gray is not actually an exhibitionist, despite his unconscious stripping. He will become one, though, if the opportunity arises and he's got a desire to give head. Gray is fantastic at oral sex and loves doing it whenever he can, so Laxus has successfully swayed him into ducking into an alley for a quickie or even a blowjob in the back of a taxi. Gray is way more embarrassed about it than Laxus is, but is he going to pass on it? No.

Being in Laxus' lap is literally Gray's favorite position. So much to touch, lick, and bite all laid out there in front of him. So stable when he needs to hold on.

These two treat each other's bodies like works of art, with something new to find every time they get the chance. Laxus loves to remind Gray how sexy he is, and Gray loves to brag that Laxus is all his.

[incarnateirony]

Hm. I think I've come to understand my discomfort with a lot of pornography.

For what it's worth, I'm not anti-porn by any means. I, too, can be baited with the right tits and ass like most dudes. And like, I don't mind other people looking at porn either.

But it's been something my whole life depending on the porn I look at. and i think it may genuinely come down to trans issues.

So like. Lesbian porn is great, but it's often very fake and I know enough to see right the fuck through that when I'm like, damn, that bitch uncomfortable af.

Gay porn is just like ???? you guys do you have fun.

Then I get to the straight porn and I think this is where my issue is.

From the outside, my attraction to penises is like, negative nothing. They are weird and gross little alien life forms stapled on there. And yet, at the same time, my whole life I was fascinated with them, angled myself from *that* end of a fantasy, but then my brain says no, the other part is supposed to be yours, and then I get all kinds of fucked up and just wander off because it's uncomfortable.

Yeah I literally did not realize until my 30s that it was not normal as AFAB to spend your entire life imagining a dick, halfass feeling like you got a dick, and getting bitched at by your girlfriends you Move Too Much Like A Dude whether you got a strapon or not.

I'm Smert.

Either way it's something that came to my attention. In between me getting roasted for a solid hour last night because I'm apparently obvious AF who I'm a simp for, porn got involved, I got tagged. And when it was all tits and joy it was fine but then I wander into the porn room later and run into dicks again and deuce the fuck out.

That's it. I think I've figured out why I'm so anal and picky about what porn if any I ever touch. That's it that's the whole problem.

[honeycreammilkshake]

I feel like an ass for saying this, but outside of Sukuna and Yuuji i dont really think the other characters are interesting. Yeah MAYBE Geto but thats also just the most indeoth character gege has wrote. Otherwise everyone single other character is just overtly simple or a jackass.

I mean shit, the world building is so lackluster. Theres a lot that looks like it was written on the fly and no real thought put into it sometimes. Hell theres timess where plot devices feel like they got put on a backburner and forgotten. Shit some deaths felt unessacary (gestures to the fhcking female cats)

And noboara? Dont get me started her staying dead would have been amazing to help yuuji grow!

Nope, shes back. Its the fucking fairy tail death situation all over again.

Also, in the new chapter im NOT happy with how gege handled Yuuta. So anticlimactic...

Im just.... im really upset over this because you can tell a lot of this was halfassed and forced.

Also fuck RCT. Brings back people feom the dead but you cant bring baxk anyone else? What the fuck is going on. Im not excited for the mangas ending at all...

i feel you, anon. sorry for the late reply btw.

don't feel bad about sharing your opinions. i agree with you on them. i feel like a LOT of the characters are either underdeveloped or simply not as interesting as they could have been. i feel bad because i think gege is experiencing a lot of pressure since this is their first official and long-running series and it became really popular. i think they might not have as much experience as some other mangaka or maybe just they rush or don't fully plan things out? i'm just speculating so i hope i don't seem cruel-hearted in saying as much.

and i agree a lot of the plot seems too sudden and not fully fleshed out. i often cannot even keep track of the technical stuff and details bc new stuff is always being added and i think i've even found some contradictions and unexplained stuff that doesn't really make sense.

overall, jjk isn't as well-written as it maybe could have been, and i'm saying this objectively. i think gege loses sight of the story a lot of the time and sometimes pulls plot developments that don't make much sense as a way to speed things up.

nobara coming back could have been handled much differently for example. as much as i do agree that her death could have served yuuji's arc well, i think she deserved better than being killed off so suddenly. she shouldn't have been killed off at all. or if she was brought back sooner it wouldn't feel so fairy tale unrealistic.

and i also find yuta a bad replacement for yuuji and just kind of boring honestly. he's like gojo 2.0 in terms of character-building only gege adores him this time.

i'm also not understand the full extent of rct. maybe i'm missing something?

idk anon. you're right on a lot of this. thankfully the manga will be ending soon, and there's a chance that someone other than gege will be continuing it, so maybe better developments and more closure will be giving to us?

idk, no disrespect to gege but im honestly not sure what kind of story im reading any more.

[ashedrose]

i've seen... some things on here that i just wanna make a smol ( this will not be smol lmao ) thing about !!

this is a hobby.

i treat this as a fun time that allows me to tap into my creativity while still enjoying shows and fandoms i enjoy outside of here. it's a fun way to "fix" or reimagine characters and storylines that were either halfassed by the writers, or simply had more potential that i'd like to explore. it's literally just a hobby, and i will be treating it as such.

the moment being on here becomes a chore, something that affects my mental and/or emotional health, something is being done wrong on here.

i will write the threads i want to write, in the order i wanna write them, within the timeframe that works for me. because this is my blog. and while i absolutely adoooorrrreeeeeeee ( !! ) everyone i write with, i won't have anyone dictate the way i do things on my blog.

i'm a big girl with a big girl job and a big girl life outside of here.

and i will always treat everyone on here with this in mind !! because everything i said from my perspective, i apply to you guys as well. your blog is yours, your timing is yours, and i do not have any rights to any of it. i am simply lucky and honored that i get a chunk of your time and a glimpse at your muse.

i can only hope that all my rp partners can set this kind of boundary for themselves too, so we can all continue to enjoy this space. <3

[jessielefey]

I hate how you can't just talk about things.

I hate that without explanation and disclaimers this post will be a flawless misunderstood example of exactly what I mean.

(I hate that that makes me want to laugh and I know I shouldn't because that too will be misunderstood, and christ it's fucking fractals of compounding loathed double-edged misunderstandings.)

I hate that trauma dumping is bad.

I hate that talking about things that hurt me like they're any other part of my life hurts people (disclaimers: this being a distinct and different thing than trauma dumping, I'm aware).

I hate how I just want to be conservational about trauma -- mine, yours, broadly, statistically -- but it's too highstrung a wire for my words to not cut them. Every goddamned time, no matter how light I try to step.

(I know that's the crux of 90% of the times people get mad at me, and I *hate* that too. I hate that the only solution I know works is to just say nothing.)

I hate so much that it's just *true*; nobody is being unreasonable not even me. Nobody's to blame, It's just verifiable trufax about human interpersonal communication.

I think I maybe hate empathy? If I can't reach into my head and just give you an entire thoughtweb so you *understand* what's the point of halfassing emotional connection like this? It just seems to make things *harder* to explain, harder to avoid unnecessary harm. Most people aren't evil we're all just fucking idiots, and me hurting because you're crying only makes me my focus in your tears, how is that fucking useful? I don't understand your pain, I can't understand your pain, I *shouldn't* understand your pain. What business have I draping myself in your pain like a costume just because you showed me it? How does that help *either* of us??

I hate that I can hurt people by accident; I hate that I can trigger people with words, but not -- again because disclaimers and explanations -- not in the whiny entitled "it's not true" "overreacting snowflake" way. It is true, it's nobody's fault for being hurt. I hate that I can hurt people by hurting. I hate the natural impulse to hush away someone's tears and how of course one would, you'd drop a pot that was burning you too!

I hate the hurt.

I hate how impossible words are.

(((I hate how being a black hole where conservations go to die *hurts so much* like I'm already dead and a ghost haunting my own life, and I hate worst that that hurts less than the pain of tripping over my too-sharp tongue and cutting someone by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time in the wrong way *again* and how much it hurts to hurt someone. I hate how whiny this sounds, when all I've ever wanted was *help* because *I don't want this*, I *never* wanted this, it just keeps happening and I just *want* to be good and *nobody* to have to hurt, and I don't know what to do to make it ***STOP***. I don't *like* hurting people, I wish sometimes I did, and ooooh I might hate myself worst of all for that.)))

[ofgentleresolve]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED: slow! slow af literally please expect to be waiting at least a month for replies if not even longer....i also almost exclusively use the queue to stagger my replies/inbox memes/everything i'm ever tagged in. it really helps with keeping me from spending too much time on this hellsite :'D LOL not anymore 😂😂😂 i try to do some replies every few days, i usually like to post 1-3 things at once before taking a few days off. i also can be VERY SLOW when it comes to answering dms and discord messages; however, i have been trying to be quicker on that end....pls have patience with me overall i promise i will get back to you sooner or later!!

REPLIES: again, very slow but i rarely drop things. long time followers know that sooner or later i get back to them...and if i don't they know since i would have otherwise posted their reply in the queue ;'D

STARTERS: pls feel free to write me all of them- again it might take me some time to get to all of them, but i promise, i haven't forgotten about ANY of them :'D i will note though that I don’t answer replies chronologically but rather i will pick one character and then do ALL of their threads there at once :'D

also i will note...i do like have SOME minimal plotting before we plot writing together and then maybe?? it can be kick-started by either memes or unprompted starters...really it depends on who my partner is; i like to be flexible in this case!!

INBOX: it gets cleared out at the same time as the replies! so basically pls consider them as being at the same pace as replies. :'D feel free to send them in as and as many as you want...but also pls know i have a right to decide whether i answer what you've sent in or not....but basically as  for the most part, i treat inbox memes the way i do replies- i will get back to you sooner or later!

SELECTIVITY: very selective. i'm not gonna lie, i am very selective with who i follow as writing these days, while i adore doing it, it also takes up a lot of my energy. i don’t want to waste my energy on dynamics and threads i know i’m not going to be excited about. if i follow you, it means i've looked over your blog, your content, your muses, and everything and i've decided that we have a chance at getting along :D but then again following ppl...it's a bet.

will note though as well- your attitude on dash makes or breaks whether i want to follow you. if you treat your followers with respect and genuine interest and care, i am more than happy to wait for you. however it's clear you look at your partners as a means for an end like entertainment purposes....i will soft block.

shipping wise, i don't halfass my shipping; basically i like romantic shipping as much as the next person BUT...i won't sacrifice my character's development and arc for a ship. ever. basically i only do romantic ships if there is serious ic AND ooc chemistry.

WISHLIST: honestly...i'm pretty content, but i would love for all of my muses to have more plotted relationships, platonic or romantic 🥺 well, patrick/myungdae and mana, romantically wise, i'm very content with, but my other muses!! maybe i just want more interactions with plotting backing up in general.

okay that’s what i want- more partners where we have plotted material btw us <3

HONEST NOTE: i know can sound like a hard ass but i promise i'm not. i just tend to be very picky with who i follow, but once you're in, i like to think i'm pretty easygoing- you can ask my long time partners as well if you need clarification <3

Also, communicate with me if i'm doing something that is making you uncomfortable- i am not a mindreader and i will not try to be. communciation is key here.

TAGGED BY:  stole it bc i figured it would be good for ppl to know this kind of stuff! TAGGING: steal it and tag me if you want~

[holdmyhopeinyourhands]

Hi you, love your blog and you totally got me interested in soccer and now PSG. Watched my first match yesterday and they promptly lost 😭😭 maybe I'm bad luck 😥

I don't know much about soccer can you, if you are in the mood and have time, give the PSG players some ratings? What was really bad and maybe even good? I thought Neymar was not bad at all but people on reddit were saying he was playing to selfish? 🤔

Sending you a hug and thank you again for just being here and making tumblr more fun 💖💖💖

Hi luv!!!! Awwww this is so nice to hear! I’m so glad you’re getting into football because of me (*screams* I’m so flattered and I’m sorry that your first match turned out like this).

Second order of business. Luv, if you want to support psg..... reddit isn’t your friend. That place hates Neymar. Genuinely despise him and even when we win they try and downplay his contribution (info: Most of the footballing community hate him but reddit is the worst) so if you want an actual opinion on him go to the psg subreddit. It’s much smaller but so much less toxic. Seriously, avoid soccer reddit if at all possible. It’s just gonna leave you depressed. Especially since both psg and neymar are not liked over there.

Third, sweetie us losing was 100% not on you. PSG bring their own bad luck and are the ones shooting themselves in the foot constantly. This is a quite regular thing for them so don’t worry. But hey! We reached the final last year for the first time in our history so maybe there is some hope left!!!!!!!

Also, this was a pretty bad game for us. Like I wouldn’t mind us losing if we looked like we cared but all of them were halfassing it and looked just depressed so it has all the fans feeling pretty down right now.

Tactic wise the team made no sense --- but I won’t get into that since you’re still new to it all.

What I’m gonna say is this. The season started only a couple of weeks ago, and in that time, half the psg squad had covid because they vacationed together, then another half got red carded, suspended, and then a bunch of them got injured. Then they went to play for their national teams, came back with even more injuries. And our best midfield player and our captain/best defender was on the bench, injured. (Plus we have new players who are only now getting the chance to play with the first team)

Sooooooo yeah. Kinda expected us to lose but we didn’t think we’ll play this poorly. Especially against a United side that isn’t all that strong either.

Anyways, depressive stuff aside. Let me rate the players for you during this match (keep in mind this is not about their general talent but how they performed during this match).

Neymar: 7/10 --- And the only reason I’m giving him a 7 and not 6 is because he had to go back to our own half of the field 90% of the time to collect the ball, which he shouldn’t have to and was the only one creating most of our chances.

Mbappe: 6/10 --- He had two decent shots on goal and somewhat looked threatening on the flank during the beginning of the second half. But went quiet after that.

Angel Di Maria: 3/10 --- Yikes. The fact that he hasn’t played for a while really shows. He shouldn’t have started in the first place.

Gueye: 4/10 ---- Very poor. But at least he tried to progress the ball forward a couple of times.

Herrera: 3/10 ---- How he was just as bad as Angel I’ll never know. But he managed to do it.

Danilo: 5/10 ---- Average at best. Did nothing of note. And the only reason he isn’t a four here too is because he did that beautiful tackle that stopped a potential goal.

Kimpembe: 5/10 ---- Half the time I forgot he was there unfortunately. He just lacked presence. And as the captain I expected him to rally the defense and put something together like Thiago or Marquinhos would have but, no. 

Florenzi: 5.5/10  ---- Because he wasn’t Meunier (a player we used to have that constantly screwed us over). Florenzi wasn’t impressive but he let in a bunch of threats on his side but honestly he did decently well in defense and he wasn’t Meunier and that’s the only reason he gets the 0.5.

Diallo: 8.5/10 ------ By far our second best player on the pitch. Literally our entire defense. The only one working hard and doing his actual job. If he hadn’t given up that stupid penalty in the beginning I honestly might have given him a straight up 9. Solid defensively and has a high potential to be an amazing CB (center back) in the future. Damn.

Kurzawa: 6/10 ---- He was at least threatening on the attack sometimes but worse defensive output out of the entire defense. I got scared every time anyone came running down his side. So a 6 because he stepped it up later on and we were toast when he was subbed out so yeah. A solid 6

Keylor Navas: 9.5/10 ---- If not a straight ten. Our best player by far. Without our goalkeeper this match would have ended 5-1 or 6-1. He was the only thing keeping this team alive. Unfortunately without our captain there, he was pretty much left alone during corners and counter attacks and that left him exposed a lot.

Tuchel (manager): 1/10 ---- And I only give him the 1 because he was present and like there and stuff. That’s it, because as far as I could see, that’s all he did. His tactics were just awful and I’m stunned he thought whatever that was would even work. Yikes.

Honorably mention Moise Kean (who was a substitute): 7/10: He looked like the only one who cared. The kid was fighting until the very last minute. Which I can’t say for the other guys. Yes he was making pretty poor decisions whenever he had the ball, but honestly, I rather watch Moise try and fail for hours than watch 30 minutes of the other guys fumbling around like they don’t care.

---- The rest of the substitutes didn’t really do much (because that almost assist from Rafinha) so yeah. That’s my rating for the players during this match. I wish they played better, I really do. And I hope they pick their forms back up but sadly, this match was just a disaster.

Oh, I almost forgot Martial 8./10 ----  Scored our only goal!!!! And really tried to pick us up but alas, even his French loyalty couldn’t save these clowns. His own goal was the only thing that gave us a fighting chance. So thanks Martial! 

Anyways, I hope this doesn’t put you off of psg. They can do well when they try and I still have faith that they’ll bounce back from this, so stick with us for a little while, yeah? 

Thanks for joining this circus my dear. Welcome to the family XD

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

"Go on without me."

"What?" Kristoff piped up. "Why, did you forget something?"

"Yes!" she seized on, actually pointing at him. "I forgot something, but I… do not want you to come with me. To get it. The something."

Honey was smirking, though as it turned out, not because she had sussed the situation. "Have to make a phone call, hm? Fine. We'll save you a spot on the sand." Then she was tugging Kristoff away before he could protest any further, though he still shot a couple of looks over his shoulder.

And now Elsa… had to think fast. This was a disaster. She wasn't ready to come out! But she couldn't let her internet acquaintance come all this way for nothing, either! Maybe she was wrong; maybe the voice was just strikingly similar to the one she adored. But the body poking down and out from under the brim of that beanie was also a match. And when the girl turned away from the desk, frustrated with the man and preparing to stomp out the front door-

Anna.

Seconds left now. As an actor, she had taken extensive improv courses; even if she was still an awkward bean, sometimes that skillset came in handy. As it would now.

"You are alright, ja?"

"Huh?" Anna asked, looking up at her with teary eyes. She hesitated a moment when she got a really good look at Elsa… distracted by her obvious beauty. Was the jig up already? Then shook her head hard, red braids bouncing to and fro.

"O-oh… n-nah, I'm just… dumb. Thanks." And she prepared to brush past, but Elsa jogged to the side to block her path.

"I vill say you are not dumb." It had been a while since she dusted off her Swedish accent - not since the evil twin episode - but Anna didn't seem to notice. "But you are upset. Vill you join me… for a drink?"

"Don't have any money." Her lip wobbled before she did a decent imitation of a polite smile. "Stupid, right? What am I doing here, why did I drive all this way… nah. Doesn't matter."

"No, no, I pay. Come to here." She gestured to the bar at the far end of the lobby's lounge, with its neon lights and vest-wearing mixologist.

Anna frowned, squirmed uncertainly… then sighed and followed her. They got seated and she ordered a beer, asking for "something on tap", and Elsa asked for a Heineken - leaning into her role. Since ordering her an Arbor Mist would have given her away. Then she laid a hand on the younger girl's shoulder.

"This is important to you, ja? It is not stupid. Please, I have an ear to listen."

"No, it's…" She drummed her fingers on the bartop as she slouched down. "She's so… I drove here because I knew a friend was going to be here. But like, I've never met her in person; I don't even know her name. And she didn't know I was coming, so like, I'm kind of a gross stalker - which is really dumb, since I accused her of being one before. How the turn tables, as Michael Scott would say."

"Hmm. Vell… I do not know dis Michael," she replied, making Anna snort in distant amusement. "But I am sure… your friend will not be angry." And she wasn't. Distressed, yes, and panicking, but not at all angry. Quite the opposite; she was touched.

"It doesn't matter!" she burst out as her head thonked against the bar. "I can't wait here! Like, I'm not a paying customer! I'm still not, so as soon as you head to your room they're gonna call the cops, I'm pretty sure."

"They vill not. You vill come to the beach vith me, and… ve vill figure out what to do."

"No…" She sat back up and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly as she came to a decision. "No. This is my fault. Like, I did the dumb thing, I gotta go home and face that I just burned a bunch of gas because I'm way too impulsive. Why didn't I just… ask her? Text her? Noooo, I had to do the big 'surprise! It's that weirdo from the internet!' thing instead!"

By the end of it, Elsa was smiling down at her. Perfect. This girl was actually even better than her halfassed fantasies had told her she was.

"Nej, you vill not do dat. Come to the beach, please?"

"I don't… I mean, I do want to come, but I don't deserve it." Now the tears came for real; she had managed to hold them back until then. "I j-just want to see her and tell her I'm sorry. But I can't. S-so I gotta go drive off a pier or something now."

"Drive off later. Beach. Now."

Taking a big swig of her beer, she shrugged. "Alright. At least it gets me out of that jerkface's thinning hair for a little while." With a nod toward the front desk, she got up from her stool. "Thanks, um…"

Why not? "Elsa. And you?"

"I'm Anna, Anna Granger." She held out her free hand formally, then blinked and laughed. "Ugh… too many interviews with professors and shit. Sorry to get all formal."

"It is fine," she chuckled, taking it and shaking anyway. "I am happy to meet you. Let us walk."

They walked. Once out on the deck, Elsa appreciated something she hadn't quite been able to put her finger on before; Anna in clothes. She had seen all kinds of slutty outfits on her, but never this jeans-and-tee combo with ratty old Converse. Too cute. The setting sun just barely caught in her aquamarine eyes, and the shadows flickering in and out of her coppery hair as they passed the electric tiki torches were like spirits at play. Every freckle was one she wanted to kiss…

Yeah. She had it bad.

"Thanks for hanging out," Anna whispered with a weak smile. "I'm… really Cusacking it."

"Hm? Cusacking?"

"Y'know… from Say Anything?" Elsa was starting to catch on, but still listened. "He makes the big dumb gesture, and it's not quite enough but everything turns out okay? Feels like one of those deals."

Elsa shrugged. "Perhaps it is, ja. Tell me about this woman you do not know, but you know."

"Oh… she's amazing. An actor who works really hard, like, I can tell it's killing her but she loves it. I know she's tall, and she's thin… hot yoga? Dumb stuff I probably shouldn't remember. She likes her coffee with peppermint, sweet potato fries. Oh - and she probably has a 3DS in her purse. Unless she decided not to bring it on vacation…"

As they got to the beach, Elsa made a mental note to keep her purse closed. She also suddenly realised there was a very large obstacle to keeping this whole thing incognito. Two of them, in fact… and they were already waving her down so animatedly that people on the hotel roof could have seen them.

"Ohhhhh Scheiße."

                                                To Be Continued…

[doubleddenden]

You know its absolutely amazing how maybe a week ago Pokemon had done everything right. They had a badass knight raven, they had MOTHAFUCKIN WOOLOO WOOO and they had kaijus, interesting characters, and the wild area.

Now its practically in the gutter lol. I am a fanboy but yikes. They messed up. I wouldn't be shocked if they decide to add the rest of the pokemon they took out as a patch, but game freak is very stubborn and probably won't. They'll include all of them as a selling point in the next one tho, bet on that.

So since it's okay to talk about it now without getting death threats, we need to chat. I've actually had my grievances with Game Freak for a while and did defend them a bit, but no more.

Since 2013 they've shilled gen 1 with mostly gen 1 megas until the Hoenn remake where they still made more Kanto megas, and refused to make Alolan forms that weren't Kanto pokemon

They took out battle frontier in oras because Masuda thought mobile games would compete with it

They dumbed down LGPE because he seriously thinks mobile games are more competition and to appeal to fans that dropped after gen 1. Even with the shitty catching controls he calls it his magnum opus. What.

They've consistently refused to design at least 100 new pokemon for gen 6 and 7, probably 8 if we're being realistic. No, megas, variants, and forms do not count or else each unown and Arceus would be a separate pokemon.

While I enjoyed ultra sun, it should've been dlc.

LGPE also limits you to 153 pokemon, 2 of which you need shitty Go for.

Introduced walking with your mons, took it out, then added it back. And probably took it back again

Megas and variants are still cool. Refuse to make more and blame art block for no mega Flygon instead of hiring someone who CAN make one

Took out events where you got actual story and lore and actually got to fight and capture these legendary and mythical pokemon in favor of handing out codes or going to gamestop or just being HANDED these mythical beings because MASUDA thought the Azure Flute was too complicated

And while we're at it, some other grievances

2019, Gyrados and Steelix have to be dynamaxed to be close to their accurate sizes. Hmmm.

2019, these "better, more intricate animations" still has Scorbunny hopping once or twice to use Doublekick when Stadium and Battle Revolution had actual movements for the moves

2019, still no game like the beta footage for Battle Revolution where Groudon hyperbeams a battlefield and HALF OF DEOXYS APART.

2019, (at least as of now) we're still tweens (BW and XY being 16 and 18 if there's any exception) with the same faces and bodies and halfassed customization options for our trainers. Most fans that play are in college or older, or at least late teens. Just saying from my own experience. The character customization should allow us more freedom with that to look older or different.

Yeah, it's time to start calling them out for it. Space ain't an issue when you can use system and SD storage space or patch shit in, and ESPECIALLY an HD system that rivals the PS4 and Xbox One. Maybe instead of prioritizing a gamble that may or may not make it like Town, you should focus on your bread and butter! Just sayin!

I'm actually going to wait this time around to buy used because I can't justify paying $60 and more for games and services that won't even allow my favourites in after beating the elite 4. And I definitely can't justify Home simply because of this:

The only place Home can send pokemon to is SwSh. Everything else is one way to Home.

If SwSh doesn't have your favorite in the pokedex, its stuck in Home until they decide to make a compatible game for it. That's not fair to the consumers.

Bank will eventually stop service. At that point, if this issue isn't fixed, you either leave your pokemon collection in Sun and Moon/Ultra, or you imprison them in Home until they decide to include them. Also not cool.

Balance is bullshit for an excuse. Just ban Landorus, MegaQuaza, The Tapus or anything else you want to get rid of from competitions, but let us have them in the game.

They keep saying "we're working very hard to do X" and using all sorts of buzzwords but if this is too hard for Game Freak, maybe give it to someone who can take it seriously! I'd be down to see Sakurai or Monolithsoft try making a Pokemon game. Or give it to the Dragon Quest guys at Square Enix or the Digimon Story guys at Bandai Namco to let them make phenomenal games.

Listen, before you tell me to off myself for this or call me names, we deserve a better pokemon game. We deserve creators that don't just phone it in or are afraid to try anything new after piracy and ice cream/garbage "ruined" gen 5 apparently (it absolute did not btw and anyone who thinks so are fuckin morons).

This is the minimum requirement every pokemon game needs. The MINIMUM.

ALL POKEMON SHOULD BE AVAILABLE IN THE DAMN GAME. This doesn't mean they have to be caught! Doesn't mean there has to be a national Dex either! Sun and Moon didn't have it but had all 800+ pokemon in the files, and they were 3ds games! $90 billion, make it work.

At least 100 original pokemon that are not alternative forms or variations, none of which are legendary or similar. $90 billion company. Hire more artists.

That's it! If you can't even do that, then give it to someone who can. Simple.

When you get down to it, there's a reason #bringbackthenationaldex trended and the treehouse video plummeted with dislikes.

"We're making this game for long time fans" was a lie I guess.

Rant over.

[nuttyrabbit]

So, to be honest I'm quite an amateur when it comes to Pokemon but the recent games. Shield and Sword, what do you think of them, as in your personal view and opinion?

Okay, I knew this question was coming eventually, so I’m going to lay it bare right here and now. I’m going to be rather vague so as to avoid spoilers. 

On the whole, I’m very mixed about Sword and Shield in general both from what’s been officially revealed up to this point and what’s been leaked

To start on the positive note, I think SwSh have a pretty great selection of new Pokemon. Iirc there’s more new Pokemon here than in either Alola or Kalos, which is a great thing. A lot of the new pokemon have really interesting designs, typings, movepools, etc, and while  I don’t love as many Galarian Pokemon as I did Alolan or even Unovan ones, there’s still quite a few standout Pokemon. 

 I’m also a big fan of the regional forms, and I’m glad that we’re finally getting ones for Pokemon outside of Kanto, and there’s a couple I plan to put on my team ASAP.

Unfortunately while I really like the new Pokemon, this unfortunately leads me into the big elephant in the room: Dexit. 

I’ve heard a ton of arguments back and forth about the dex culling, and whether or not it was even necessary to begin with (From what I’ve seen, it apparently is only necessary because Gamefreak is bad at programming but don’t quote me on that), it’s something that’s souring me on the game big time, not just because I’m suddenly unable to bring over all my favorite Pokemon, but also because I’m going to be completely unable to use the 20+ boxes of competitive mons I raised in USUM.  It won’t ruin the game for me like it did for a lot of other people, but it’s something that’s left a bad taste in my mouth.

Speaking of bad tastes in my mouth: Dynamax.  I’m going to be blunt: I don’t like Dynamax at all. It feels like a halfassed combination of Z-moves and Mega evolutions without the mechanics that made either one (relatively) balanced or interesting.  While a couple of the Gigantamax forms look interesting, others just look really dumb and a lot of it is yet more needless Kanto pandering. I’m not looking forward to it in a competitive sense

Moving onto the presentation, it looks like an upscaled 3DS game and it’s clear Gamefreak are struggling to make the game work on the Switch. Seriously, I know it’s been nitpicked to death, but there’s a lot of things in the game that just look kinda bad, and if the leaks I’ve been hearing are true, it gets worse.

Onto the more general mechanics, it’s a very mixed bag.  I’m glad we’re getting the return of gyms, E4, and the champion, but something in the back of my mind is telling me that it’s going to be...lesser...this game for some reason.  Mechanics like the job system look interesting and seem to be expanding upon the sidequests of USUM, and the camp thing seems to be  expanding on shit like Pokemon-amie and the Pelago, so that looks kinda interesting. But then there’s shit like EXP share being on by default, the lack of actual routes, and the raid battles that just seem kind of....really dumb attempts at being “innovative”.  However, my feelings on a lot of these mechanics may change when I get my hands on the actual game, so we’ll see.

That feeling also extends to the story and region. To be honest, I on’t remember a lot of the story elements talked about in trailers, and a lot of the characters seem forgettable, but again, we’ll see how it plays out once the game is actually out.

In general, as I said before, I’m very mixed on SwSH. There’s a lot to apparently like, but there’s a lot I’m mixed to negative about.  I feel like it’ll be a game akin to X/Y wherein it’s a perfectly functional game, but there’s a lot of glaring issues and when put against what comes before and what comes after, it won’t stand up.  But again, I don’t think I’ll be able to make a proper judgment call until the game is in my hands and I’m playing it, so we’ll see.

I’ll definitely come back to this after I’ve finished the game

[pomfiores]

( This is a bit random (think about it as a conversation starter but) what's your favourite twst moment whit Vil in it? )

- @underaseaofmuses mun

okay, recent chapter aside (for like 2 reasons lmao they're small but I cherish them) my favorite moment with Vil in it is - probably post-overblot. It sticks out to me the most. I mean, he's mainly part of that moment but it is such a sensitive moment, to me. It's right before he gets taken by styx, when he gathered his VDC team to have a final meeting and to properly apologize and he even kinda of bonds more with the group because of it. He owned up to what happened. He could've pretended it didn't happen, he could've given a halfassed apology because pride, I'm sure that would've been the easier path to take and it was probably what people expected from Vil. But instead, he doesn't. He apologizes, he even takes action to prove it by making up the loss and paying his team for their efforts as it's mainly why they joined the team. I don't think he did that as "hush-money", either - I know rich people do that often lol but I think Vil sincerely, at heart, tries to do the right things. He's morally grey, if you will. so realizing the wrong he did, it wouldn't sit right with him. They saved his life. Vil's definitely extremely grateful for that. They didn't talk about it, after or hold it over his head either bc too traumatized or they really give a damn about Vil - they could've done him wrong, I know there are plenty of petty enough people in this world to do something like that. But it's just a tender moment w/ Vil between him and the team. ofc the moment gets ruined and Ramshackle fell apart through the roof but its fine. Most people don't expect that kind of action from "diva" characters that Vil gets treated as, sometimes. There's that mutual respect between Vil and the team. And he cares about them so much, headaches aside with all that training. That's his potato squad.

[tamiddyinyourcity]

Its always weird when certain people come back.

Scotty came back despite three whole arguments and lectures about why him disrespecting my body, emotions, and consent, means he should stay the absolute fuck away from me.

He came back because he was horny.

My ex of three or so years never took the obvious hints that I absolutely would never come back into his life again or ever feel the same way about him after everything.

Hasnt stopped him from mesaging me inappropriately today.

That dude Josh who I told to fuck off maybe a million times for similar reasons as fucking Scotty was told to fuck off?

Deadass kept hitting up my line.

And that dude I exposed for being a dickhead once, (it wasn't even my fault, the situation was so dumb I can't even define it,) still tried to come back into my life on some halfassed apology level shit.

Those who I genuinely had seen potential in or with just kinda.... faded off.

It's a weird feeling.

Not anger, and not entirely sadness. Just weird. One day a person is your rock, and the next day, you're yeeting them across a pond from how much you absolutely despise them.

Or you get yeeted.... its either yeet, or get yeeted, in this world. Which will you be? Tossed out or the ones that will toss others out?

(Its 2:32am and i am faking deep philosophically.)

I wonder if anyone I know will ever search for me and find this page.

Like hell, if a person I knew from a year ago in fucking Australia found me by chance on a YouTube video comment section, I wouldn't doubt it if somehow, someone had thought of me, and looked up my shit.

Sigh.

Maybe its just too big of a hope, tbh.

After things fell out with my last "actual" "ex", shit got pretty bad. They legitimately checked up on me whenever they could, just to see if I was checking up on them. (Which was fucking bonkers on both sides; jesus. He was such a prick.)

It was like an episode of Spy versus Spy. "I know that bitch is looking at my Instagram and thinking of some crazy shit, so hey, just spy on her reddit page and see all the sad cries for help shes made about me to vent out anonymously."

You couldve just put a sliver of that energy into actually holding a conversation with me or giving shit a chance past using me as your sexual fetish? But alright big champ

I don't know why I have that feeling now.

That I'm being watched.

Not to be admired or for any other reason, just.... watched.

Its happened a handful of times, exes finding personal pages I had. Josh hitting me up on the same reddit ive made posts complaining on him about. My high school ex finding my insta and thinking id let his bitch ass follow me... Some dude deadass was in the grade below me, raged HEAVILY when I didn't accept his offer for a date to some shitty edgy metal movie, and then had five different accounts he kept trying to fucking follow me on.

(He had a girlfriend too; an online girlfriend yet he wanted to follow my page for why?)

Makes me wonder who's lurking...........

Could be my paranoia again.

Maybe I'm just too afraid to be vulnerable again.

Since hey, last few times I had tried that out, shit had went terribly.... or was pointless.

Life is a shithole and im like that dude from rusty lake hotel thats lived in that hole its whole life.