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#life hurts when you are able to use your brain too much for stupid reasons
somekidufoundonline · 2 years
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hghgg today has not been pleasant 
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desert-fern · 11 months
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I Just Need a Hug - Mickey Garcia X Reader
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Pairing: Mickey Garcia X Reader
Summary: Your week has been awful; your boss is a dick, you're overworked, and you just want to scream. When your husband beats you home, you can only hope to keep it together long enough for you to handle it on your own. Unfortunately, Mickey has a different idea.
Warnings: your boss is a dick (a small dose of misogyny for added measure), Mickey being an absolute gem, cuddles, crying, bad days, barely proofread, again very self indulgent...
Word Count: 3k
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Fucking men! You had had it up to the atmosphere with how done you are. In another spectacular combination of how much shit you could take, your day had sucked. Your supervisor, a middle aged man who was clearly done with life, had decided to make his problems your problems and now you were now stuck managing two entire labs as well as supervising your own projects. So it was only natural that your head was pounding as you pushed your way through the double doors leading to the parking garage. 
Everything hurt and you felt restless, like there were ants crawling under your skin. It was enough to make you shudder. You took a deep breath, blowing out the air and trying to get the proverbial monkey off your back. But it was no use. The monkey stayed stuck, and your mind continued to race through the endless possibilities of how you could have been better, how you could have been more organised, how everything seemed to fall at your feet. 
It just wasn’t fair. 
None of it was. You were good at your job, you wouldn’t have been promoted if you weren’t. So why then, did this one fucking man feel the need to belittle you and act like you were his emotional trash can? 
The thought was enough to make you cry as you drove home. Road noise blurred together with a stupid repetitive song on the radio and it was making you more anxious by the second. But turning it off didn’t help. 
It was like whatever was crawling under your skin had settled there, content to move around as much as it wanted. And it did. You felt itchy, your head pounding with both a headache and from the stress that clung to you from work. 
Your drive passed in a blur. It definitely wasn’t the safest you’d ever been while driving but your head had firmly trapped you in a feedback loop, forcing you to relive the painful moments from today, over and over and over. 
Sometimes your brain was a cruel fucker.
Parking in your driveway was simultaneously the best and the worst thing to happen to you today. It was a relief to be home, to finally get to see your husband after he’d been gone for a week. Of course you’d seen him yesterday, had your own little reunion last night, and early this morning, but it also meant that you couldn’t just shrug this funk off like you were used to doing. 
Mickey would goad you into telling him what happened. His kind brown eyes were always able to pull a confession from your lips, whether you wanted to or not. It endeared him to you and frustrated you to no end because some days, you just didn’t want to talk. 
Trudging up the steps, you unlocked the door and dropped your bags on the floor of the entryway. Your keys clattered in the little bowl that they lived in while not in use, and you could hear Mickey moving around nearby. He was either in the kitchen or the living room, and you weren’t ready to talk just yet. So you slipped your shoes off, creeping up the stairs as quietly as you could. 
You weren’t avoiding him on purpose. 
Who were you kidding? You definitely were. 
But you had your reasons. 
You just needed some space, that’s all. Time to de-people as Mickey had taken to calling it. But the way your head was buzzing was new. You had only just flopped back on the bed, blowing out a deep breath, when your clothes suddenly felt too tight, your throat too dry, and your mind too busy. 
You drew a shuddering breath, trying to will away this funk that had settled deep in your bones. “Just get changed,” you told yourself. “You’ll feel way better.” The calm and rational part of your brain was whirring brokenly, clunking along to the same rhythm as the pounding in your head. 
Hands shaking, you undid your belt and struggled to undo the button of your work pants, making you swear violently, and the frustration bubbled over until you could do nothing but slide to the floor and bury your face in your knees. 
Mickey had heard the thump from upstairs and turned the music down in the kitchen to listen for any noise to indicate what had just happened. “Mi vida? You okay?”
You heard his voice from downstairs, the not so subtle emphasis on his last question. He knew. 
Fuck. 
You were trying so hard not to worry him. He’d just gotten home after a routine training course a few hours away in Lemoore that had had him away for just over a week. Mickey would be tired. He didn’t need to deal with this. 
You could keep it together for dinner. 
So you drew in a few more shaky breaths, pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, drawing bright sparks of colour flashing through your vision, and stood up. A few more tries and you undid the button on your pants, pulling them off as though they would bite you and throwing them in the direction of the hamper. Your shirt was next and you found yourself flopping back onto the bed, groaning. The task was simple enough, but between the sensory overload, the tag of your shirt scraping the back of your neck, and the sheer overwhelming nature of the task, you found yourself unwilling to even attempt it.
It could have been minutes or hours later, but you had plucked up enough courage and stripped off your work shirt before rifling through your husband’s drawers to find the softest, most worn shirt he had: the baby blue one that he had purposefully bought a little larger.
It felt like security. Like a safety net. 
And it always made him smile when he saw you in it. Mickey had never told you why it made him grin his thousand watt smile, but you loved it because the glimmer in his brown eyes always seemed to shine brighter whenever you grabbed this shirt. 
Putting it on felt like heaven. The soft fabric draped over you, warming where your skin touched it, and you could finally breathe. Mickey’s cologne washed over you, replacing the anger, the frustration that had coursed through your veins with the comfort and warmth that always radiated from your husband.  
For the first time since you left work, you were able to draw a full breath. 
All because of your husband. 
Downstairs, Mickey had gone back to making dinner, listening over the music as he heard you moving around. The creaking of the wooden steps had given away your journey from the bedroom, but he still pretended not to see you until you wrapped your arms around him from behind, burying your face against his shoulder blade. 
“Hey Mouse.” Your voice was muffled against his skin, very glad at how your husband had forgone a shirt this evening. He was warm from the stove and shone in the dwindling golden light from the sun through the window. The short curls that Mickey had let grow out in his time between deployments, glimmered in that same light, scattering threads of gold through his normally deep black hair. 
You had been awestruck by his beauty when you had first laid eyes on him, and now? Now, even with your eyes screwed shut and face pressed into his back, you could see him behind your closed eyelids as clear as could be.  
“Mi vida.” You felt the rumble of his voice beneath your cheek and grimaced slightly when Mickey pulled away, the pan before him clanking against the back of the stove as he turned off the burner. “I missed you, carina.” 
“I missed you too.” 
He drew you back into his arms, pressing a few kisses to your temple as you pushed your face into his neck, breathing him in. “No kisses for me, carina? What’s a man to do?” Mickey’s gentle teasing had you moving to look at him despite your better judgement, knowing that he’d seen right through the feeble mask you’d slapped on before coming downstairs. 
“Sorry baby. My head’s busy tonight.” Mickey glanced down at you before grinning into your kiss. “I missed you all week, Mouse. The house was really quiet.” Your voice was small as you suddenly fought off a wave of tears that wanted to fall, the shift in your body language jarringly abrupt and had your husband glancing down in concern. 
“What’s wrong?” 
You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. What are you making?” 
“That spicy pasta you love. What’s going on?” Mickey dismissed your attempt at shaking off his question and the furrow between his brows had your stomach sinking. The intelligence in those chocolate brown eyes combined with that little furrow made you want to dash your soul at his feet and beg him to fix you, but you couldn’t. 
You wouldn’t drop this on him on his first day back. 
Trapped in your thoughts, you went over the last week in your head. Your boss had called you too emotional three days ago in a poor excuse for a reason why you were suddenly doing more work for less money. You fought him on his excuses, calling his bluff at every turn, demanding answers. 
The dogged nature that had worked in your boss’s favour too many times had been turned on him, and as expected, he was not a fan. You knew that you were entitled to these answers, that you deserved an explanation for your troubles. 
“This is why I don’t work with women. They can’t be objective. Stop being hysterical and get back to work.” Your boss’s words echoed through your head, reigniting the frustration, the suffocating feeling you had had and turned your husband’s arms into what felt like prison bars. 
“… vida? Mi vida, what happened? Where’d you go?” Snapping back to reality, you jolted back, pulling out of your husband’s arms. You heard the confused sound that slipped from his throat and it sent waves of regret crashing against your heart. “Mi vida?” 
You couldn’t meet his gaze, staring at your bare feet. You knew that Mickey was watching you, you could feel the heat of his eyes as they ran over you. He was hurt, that much you knew. 
And you wanted to fix it, but it was like your mouth had been sewn shut, your mind’s vocabulary erased in an instant. You couldn’t describe what you felt, let alone explain it to your husband as you stood lamely before him. 
The lump in your throat grew as tears pricked your eyes. You squeezed them shut, trying to prevent the waves of emotions slamming into you, but it was no use. 
With a strangled sound, you crumpled to the floor, drawing your arms around yourself and letting the dam break. Tears flowed down your cheeks in rivers, your breathing turning ragged and desperate as you cried. 
Mickey was beside you in a heartbeat, pulling you onto his lap, and holding you to his chest, uncaring of your tears wetting his skin. His heart broke for you, wanting so desperately to fix whatever had made you break down like this. Distantly, he heard his mother telling him “Mijo, sometimes a girl just needs to cry. You don’t have to fix a thing, just be there,” and he resolved to do just that. 
So he sat there on the cold, hard floor, arms wrapped around you and let you cry away the pain and tension of the last few days. He had begun humming gently, pressing gentle kisses to your temple, and occasionally, letting reassurances fall from his tongue in the Spanish he knew you loved to hear. 
If a few tears fell from his own eyes, he would never tell you. You needed this cathartic release and Mickey was just glad that he had been here for you. “I’ve got you, mi vida. It’s okay. Let it out.”
You could feel the heat of Mickey’s palm gently moving up and down your back, drawing you back into reality as your sobs quieted and eventually stopped all together. “Mickey,” you murmured into his neck. 
“I’m here, carina. I’m not going anywhere.” The softness of his voice damn near set you off again and you cuddled closer to his chest like you were trying to crawl into his skin. Mickey kissed your forehead gently, burying his nose in your hair, trying to offer a fraction of the comfort you gave him on a day to day basis. 
“I know, Mouse.” Your voice was hoarse from your sobs and you hated how wet it sounded. It sounded weak to your ears and it was exactly the kind of reaction that your boss would condemn. “I’m sorry.” 
“Carina. Look at me.” Your husband’s voice was quiet but firm, refusing to hear another apology fall from your lips. “Never apologize to me for something like this. You hear?” 
“But..” 
“But nothing.” Mickey had taken your chin between his fingers, gently pulling your face from his neck to meet his eyes. “We said ‘for better or worse’, didn’t we?” 
At your wordless nod, he continued. “Then you know I mean it. What would you say if I apologized after a nightmare, hmm? That you are here, that you aren’t going anywhere, right?” 
Another nod. 
“So believe me, mi vida, when I say that it would take a whole lot more than you ugly crying all over me for me to even entertain the idea of leaving.” Mickey’s chest rose and fell under your hands, breathing deeply after his speech. “Te amo, carina. Te amo mucho.” 
“I love you too,” you whispered, leaning forward to rest your head against his. Your heart felt lighter after you cried, but you still felt strangely numb. 
Mickey kissed you gently, your first real kiss since you had come home. The first time you had kissed him in a week. It was like coming home and when he pulled away, you nearly whined. “None of that now,” Mickey whispered. “You still have to tell me what happened to make you so upset.” 
You opened your mouth to argue, but quickly shut it at the look in your husband’s eyes. There would be no dissuading him from this. You swallowed harshly, ducking your head back into his neck. You were still trying to avoid the gentle curiosity and worry that blended together in the eyes of the man you loved. “Had a shit day and I really don’t want to talk about it.” 
“Mmm.” Mickey’s quiet hum made you smile for some reason. “You know mi vida, a woman I love very much once told me that letting a bad day fester is never good, and that the best cure is a big hug and ranting and raving like a lunatic.” 
You groaned, hating when he used your own words against you. “I did say that, didn’t I?” 
“Did you? I could have sworn that that was my other wife,” he teased, chuckling at the face you made at his words. “Not to worry, carina. There never has been anyone but you since the day I met you.” 
“I know Mouse. I know.” Your head had gone fuzzy with the multitude of ways to explain your past week but none of them flowed together in a way that communicated even a fraction of your experience. “I… I just don’t know how to begin…” you trailed off, risking a look up at his face. 
Mickey was watching you, his rich brown eyes meeting yours and holding your gaze. An unspoken intensity lingered there, but knowing your husband, he wouldn’t pry. But he never had to. His gentle eyes, his strong arms around you, and the soft strength in which he carried himself never failed to make you feel safe and you wanted  to spill your guts. Dash every hope, wish, prayer, and thought you had made during the week at Mickey’s feet. You wanted… Well, you didn’t know what you wanted. 
Sensing your dissociation, Mickey poked the end of your nose, chuckling when you jolted at the feeling. “Just start from where you can, okay mi vida?” 
And you did. Your story rambling and twisting as you tried to detail every last horrible second of your week when Mickey was away. He sat quietly, listening to every stumbled over word, nodding and making small sounds of acknowledgement, support, or whatever the moment called for, and you found yourself falling more for your husband. 
Once you had finished your rant, you seemed to collapse into Mickey’s chest, your palm coming up to rest against his pec, settling into his arms. He tilted your chin up to gaze at your face, smiling and began peppering your face with kisses until you started giggling. 
“Mouse!” You shrieked, swatting at him playfully. 
Mickey kissed your chin once more before moving to kiss you gently. After a week apart, kissing him seemed to act like a balm over the wounds inflicted during the week. “I love you, mi vida.” 
“I love you more.” 
“Not possible.” 
You slowly untangled yourself from him, standing up. “Come on. You have to be hungry.” 
Mickey’s eyes narrowed playfully. “I certainly am.” He stood after you, moving quickly and caging you against the counter. “But I never said anything about food…” 
“Mouse…” Your nickname for your husband came out in a gasp as he stood over you. He moved to drop to his knees, but you caught his elbow, pulling him back up and hugging him tightly. “I just need this first. And maybe food because I didn’t get lunch today.” 
Your husband smiled, content to just stay like this, with his arms tight around you. Sex could wait, food and what you had deemed cuddles were what you needed most right now. And Mickey would be damned if he didn’t give you what you needed. Even if you just needed a hug.
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A/N: If this came to you on a day that you needed it, I'm so happy that it could be a smidge of comfort for you. If you need more cuddles, check out my one and only Bradley one-shot "A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"
Tagging a few possible interested people: @roosterforme @joaquinwhorres @sarahsmi13s @roosters-girl @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @cassiemitchell @thedroneranger @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @twsssmlmaa @becks-things @blue-aconite @teacupsandtopgun @beccaanne814
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ravenpureforever · 1 month
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random question time! which wwx's relationship do you like the most and why? It could be platonic or romantic, all canons allowed
Thank you for the ask! Oh boy this question is hard, because I like I appreciate so many of his relationships for different reasons that picking just one feels kinda cruel 
I think the biggest tie for me is between JC and LWJ for WWX. 
Wangxian is the rare ship where I genuinely can only see them romantically with each other, like I’m multishipper, I’ll ship literally anything if you have an interesting concept, pretty words or beautiful art, like grab my attention I am yours, except these two, they live in my head rent free and they can only be together because like maybe you lost everything, maybe you can never go back to that blissful youth you once had, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build a new life for yourself and find happiness and all the grief and tragedy does not define you but you still want to help people and you will help people and maybe it isn’t the life you thought you wanted when you were fifteen but it is a wonderful one and you love and you are loved and you are happy and that is enough. Maybe you suffered, maybe you were cruel, maybe the world misread who you are and assigned you a role you did not ask for, but maybe that doesn’t matter because you know who you are, you are still kind, and you have someone who knows and understands you and trusts who you are. You are both also kind of insufferable in your love and get to be annoying too. 
But JC & WWX are my ultimate tragic doomed platonic relationship, my neurotic little freaks who can’t be normal about each other and have zero boundaries, bickering idiots, wanting to go back to your youth except you’ll never be 15 again and you the person who knew the most intimate parts of yourself is now a stranger except you still see the glimmers of the person they used to be, the most brutal variation of you’ll never recover from that kind of devotion, the ultimate capturing  lost youth and having to go down different paths and really depicting what growing up is like sometimes, the viciousness where I am able to hurt you unlike anyone else (regardless if I want to or not), the abusive household codependency of survival, literally carrying a piece of your soul in my chest and making the ultimate sacrifice you never asked for because I couldn’t bare to risk losing you, the hollowness is a symbol of my devotion and the fullness is an omen of our splintering, there is one brain cell being shared like a game of tennis, my pathetic meow meow and beloved blorbo, I genuinely can’t be normal about them. 
I think if I really have to pick between them though, I’ll have to say JC & WWX just by virtue of I don’t like Wangxian fics that mischaracterize or villainize JC, like if he’s featured and isn’t a well-written character (Shanastorytellers' and loosingletters’ fics my absolute beloveds), it really takes me out of the narrative. His depiction and relationship with WWX has a lot of impact on my Wangxian enjoyment, and even in canon my beloved Wangxian gets to develop because of all the Ls this poor guy takes, so congrats JC, you win here! It’s by a literal hair, but JC & WWX platonic relationship, get these boys a reconciliation so they can drink in Lotus Pier and gossip about their kids and people they think are stupid, WWX it will enrich your marriage so much I promise. It’s what *I* deserve.
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thoughts on autistic beatrice 
i got a couple asks about this, so here we go.
speaking. despite her talent for linguistics, and her fascination with language, Beatrice does sometimes have periods where she is non-verbal. alternates with days where she needs to talk a lot. Lilith usually gets subjected to her talkativeness on these occasions - or rather, she subjects herself to it, willingly. knows how to respond and manage and help when things are a lot. she is quite content to sit and listen and poke fun while Beatrice lets all of the thoughts out of her head. 
Bea has areas of specific focus, and likes to tell convoluted stories to reach her point bc it’s how her brain likes to do things, and Lilith is one of the rare people who will simply listen, who is not impatient. Bea has been trained to think in straight lines, but there is a natural obliqueness to her thought processes. & especially when she is tired and/or hurt it unravels out of her. 
it takes a long time for her to trust anyone enough to actually relax and do that kind of stimming, but once things are easier it’s at least once a week, and Lilith pretty much drops everything to go sit with her in the library or down by the cliff or in the sun by one of the outer walls. this is astonishing to Bea, because nobody in her life has been willing to listen to her talk before, for hours. 
for Lilith it’s like watching the sun rise, & Bea transforms when she’s able to let all of the many myriad & often beautiful thoughts she has find their way out. to have them held and appreciated.
special interests. i think for sure Bea is really interested in math & physics & linguistics & probably a bit of architecture (my girl knew how to convert dirra to feet = math nerd AND architecture nerd, for sure). 
re: physics - Bea is just really interested in the mechanics of the universe, & it’s kind of an adjacent interest when you throw knives, because there is math involved & a bit of physics knowledge, especially for her throws which are from unpredictable distances (usually knife-throwing is done at standard distances with more or less consistent trajectories. whereas Bea throws in consistently unpredictable circumstances, often at moving targets).
she likes spiders and pretty much all fields of biology - anatomy, entomology, biophysics (she was a bit obsessed with gravitational tropism & how they grew plants in space), biochem, physiology of all kinds. definitely used to do architectural sketches for fun. knows all about how buildings have been constructed over the centuries. likes spiders because misunderstood, solitary, & just rlly rlly interesting as creatures. linguistics for obvious reasons. aka ‘if i learn ten languages i will be able to talk to people’ = cue not knowing what to say to people in ten languages. i’m gonna say she likes prime numbers. the mystery of them, the way they are so strange and self-contained.
routine! Bea is big into routine. it helps her to deal with the parts of her life that will always be chaotic - OCS activities are pretty much chaotic by default, because possession and demons don’t keep people-hours. 
she NEEDS to go running every day & Lilith is usually the only one who can keep pace with her, so they get up in the predawn dark most mornings and run until the sun rises. they don’t talk while they run, but they have a sort of silent conversation going on. gentle competition and mutual egging-on. performing stupid little parkour tricks where no one can see them. once or twice they go down by the beach and end up trying to toss each other into the ocean. 
when they get back Beatrice has muesli (she always has muesli, when she can) & she has this specific blue bowl and this specific spoon. everyone knows not to touch it (and Lilith knows too but still does dickhead things like hide it, but she gives it back almost immediately. just likes to see Bea’s face scrunch up like an emoji. she calls it ‘your haughty little stare’. 
Lilith peels an orange while Beatrice makes up her breakfast (picking the banana chips out. ‘why don’t you just get the brand without banana chips.’ ‘you wouldn’t understand.’) Lilith scatters orange peel everywhere on purpose and Beatrice goes around after sweeping them into her palm, which makes her hands smell like citrus (and, incidentally, exactly like Lilith’s, all day long).
time-blindness/interoception. Beatrice loses time. has a habit of going into a trance or just hyper-focussing on things. in those instances Mary or Lilith or Cam will find her just Staring and they always go to fetch Shannon, because she has a knack; she’s a gentle stirring presence, and she goes and puts her palms on Bea’s face and gets her eyes to focus on her. narrows the world down to simple touch. leads with a couple of innocent questions about math or sometimes jellyfish, or any of the topics Bea likes. 
this is what she needs. Mary is the steady voice that pulls everyone together in a fight, but Shannon has the measure of Beatrice. she knows to ask questions, to lure her out of her stupor with positive things. gentle, stirring. usually there’s nothing bad about losing the time, except that she can end up with throbbing headaches from dehydration.
but it’s time her brain needs, to be away from other people, because Beatrice has observed and catalogued and she is pretty good at the social side of things. yet it is exhausting. & sometimes she needs a hour or two to just exist in her own orbit.
eye-contact. when she’s comfy she tends to stray away from eye-contact, just because other body language is better and not so overwhelming as eyes, but martial arts taught her how important the eyes are for betraying intent, so she looks. but if she trust ppl there’s less eye contact. what there is, then, means more. 
she and Lilith are almost entirely absent of eye-contact when alone with each other. they are parallel play pros, and they save eye-contact for fighting, though Lilith is extraordinarily good at NOT giving away anything with her eyes. she can be beating the crap out of two people at once and look like she’s grocery shopping, but when she’s in the swing of things there’s often a manic glee to her eyes. & Bea likes that because it’s uncomplicated and wild and honest. but yeah, Mary occasionally goes to Shannon - ‘hey, do you think Beatrice would know the answer if i asked her what colour Lilith’s eyes are?’
speaking (contd.) Bea does have a tendency to forget about inflection in speech. has a monotone a lot of the time, which other people mistake for condescension. she can be very persuasive, but when she’s comfortable her voice keeps this unerringly constant pitch.
doesn’t tend to have the wild wavers you expect when ppl are with their friends; actually gets flatter & more even the more enthused she is. so she’ll be telling Lilith about how spiders can walk upside down on glass & the pitch, if you measured it, would be a straight line, but this speaks to Lilith’s brain too, because it isn’t jumping on distinctions in sound & getting anxious over it. 
if you pay attention to the rest of Bea’s body language it’s easy to see how excited she is, but that doesn’t manifest in her voice so much. oh she can emote vocally with the best of them (cut to the museum heist scene where Vincent kidnaps Ava) but calm relaxed Bea is going to be rocking that monotone.
food. for the first while in cat’s cradle Beatrice has trouble with mealtimes. it was never her forte - always the first down to breakfast in boarding school, so eventually the ppl setting up just left a bowl out for her & the tureen of muesli, and a milk bottle still slick with dew from sitting on the stoop with all the others. 
it’s the social aspect, mostly, and the change of routine, that get to her. plus Beatrice just isn’t motivated by food at all - for her it’s like, due to interoception, and some sensory preferences, though Bea’s a good soldier and can just ignore texture and taste if she has to. 
she doesn’t like the tables in the vaulted hall or the weird dim lighting, and all the other nuns talking in hushed voices so they become this susurration of sound. so she just skips lunch, or dinner. 
Lilith insists that she could care less, & she only tells Mary because otherwise she’ll get a lecture about responsibility and the new recruits, and also Bea is the best fighter besides her, and she doesn’t want to win just because the little twit forgets to eat. 
initially Mary just insists that Bea goes to meals with her. that doesn’t really help too much; Bea goes where she’s told, but yk you can lead a horse to water, can’t make them drink.
one day Mary goes and sits down next to Bea while she’s reading one day out in the courtyard, & hands her a cup of pudding from a bunch of surplus (and almost expired) MREs that the OCS bulk-bought ages ago. & Bea, skeptical but obedient, open it up & tries it & Mary, privately, thinks it’s chalky and overly sweet, but Bea adores it. she reads the nutritional info and is weirdly psyched by how ‘full of food groups’ it is. (Mary shrugs, but Lilith gets it; she also grew up craving salt and protein and portions larger than a palm). 
Mary bulk buys even more of them, & soon the Trio™ start carrying them around. Shannon has a bunch in her backpack, and Mary keeps them in the glove box of the van. Lilith sometimes just has one in the pocket of her hoodie, so that when it’s a Hard Day they can all reliably take Bea out into the sun with a bit of breeze coming up over the cliffside, & pass her a horrible calorie-dense protein pudding monstrosity.
it works, though. once Bea has Lilith to cling to she doesn’t mind going to the official means, & also Mother Superion takes her in her office & tells her she can go to the kitchen or eat in MS’s office if she’s not feeling it any evening. it works, and Beatrice manages to win against Lilith two out of five times in training, and she looks better and more than she has in her whole life, because the ppl around her FINALLY care about what she needs.
touch. Bea actually really likes it. flinches, at first, when Mary throws an arm around her, or when Shannon goes to her after a hard fight and presses their foreheads together, and leaves her sooty thumb-prints on Bea’s cheeks from holding her face. 
Lilith is another touch-starved bitch so they are like two polarised magnets initially, but after a while it changes. Beatrice falling asleep against Lilith in the back of the OCS fan. Bea having a panic attack and Mary climbing clear over the handbrake from the front seat (shotgun) to go and hold her very tightly, and rock her, and just say meaningless nice things.
Lilith like a deer in the headlights watching it, but eventually letting Beatrice braid her hair when her hands won’t stop shaking from the adrenaline. at once point they are hiding from possessed ppl & Lilith wraps her whole body around Bea, pressing them together into the shadows, and Beatrice is just… stunned by the closeness of it all. the lemon and sweat smell of Lilith (Bea starts stealing her shampoo after that). 
eventually she knows how to seek touch, how to ask for it & Bea and Lilith become kind of ridiculous about it (just watch the infirmary scene). they sit propping each other up, side-by-side or back-to-back. Bea with her legs flung over Lilith’s lap, reading out of a book in the library. in church playing ‘one-two-three-four, i declare a thumb war’ while Mary loses her shit in the row behind them. 
Beatrice likes braiding hair, and when she’s upset she just clings to ppl (Lilith starts calling her barnacle and also limpet) but both of them need that from each other, & most of the other sisters are just not Bea’s people; she has her three people (four, almost, when Cam arrives). 
with Mary it’s a lot of rough shoving and headlocks and kicking each other’s calves and ‘hey, think fast!’ followed by Mary chucking something at Bea. 
with Shannon it’s the face-touching, and her arms folding Bea into a hug to end all hugs. & obviously with Ava we have Beatrice the little spoon, & her quiet amazement at how much Ava likes touching her arms or pecking her on the cheek - i don’t think she was raised to believe that people might long to touch her, and where Lilith hid her longing pretty deftly, Ava is much more open about it; it’s part of what shocks her when Ava hugs her very suddenly that first time in Cat’s Cradle after the wall incident - not the touch, but the recognition of Ava’s hunger for it. i think it occurred to Beatrice that maybe Ava could not even remember the last time someone hugged her like that. i think she understands& once they’re together it’s stupid how often they are in contact with each other, but it’s Bea’s love language, i think.
sensory issues. texture is obviously a thing for Beatrice. specifically with food, but also with clothes. you’ll see (in the show) that she tends to favour clothes that are loose around the arms (part of her reasoning being that it’s easier and better to fight in loose-fitting clothes) but yeah she’s not a fan of tight clothing. likes pressure on her own terms. she likes sweaters and tank tops, men’s-section t-shirts because the weird v-shape of women’s sleeves is foul and heinous. she does like to button shirts all the way up to the top because for unknown reasons it feels safe and precise.
sound is not too bad for Bea. she’s used to a lot of shouting in martial arts training (the use of a kiai in kendo is well-established & often super loud. she kind of likes that, shrieking at the top of her lungs with permission) and also gunshots with the OCS. none of it bothers her more than gunshots are just super unpleasant to hear for anyone. 
she does enjoy asmr though. ocean sounds especially (thunder is bad unless there’s a really predictable interval between bouts of thunder) hates those deep-space ones because the bass makes her feel dizzy.
she just also really likes the sound of the people she loves talking. sometimes she can get Lilith to say more than four sentences together & it’s heaven. Ava obviously has her doe-eyed with her ability to talk about anything, to fill silences with good sound. 
Bea HATES to be shouted at, berated etc. but mostly for trauma reasons, b/c of the whole endless night her parents yelled at her before they sent her away. this is part of the reason that silence makes her a bit uneasy, unless she knows what it means. 
silence with Lilith has a few flavours; she has a happy silence, which is like a cat coming to sit in a room with you. she also has a broody silence, which Bea likes too, actually, because Lilith isn’t angry, she’s just filling the room with the noisiness of her thoughts. her angry silence makes Beatrice want to say around too, but only in the hope of mending things. Mary’s silences are usually good, or else they’re about Shannon. & Shannon has her gentle silences and her hidden silences. the fact is that silence for Bea is rarely actual silence, because she is too attentive to the meanings of silence. 
she likes Ava’s version of silence, which is talking. 
is also very very perceptive of sound - Lilith insists you can’t hear electricity OR spiders moving around, but Bea is adamant that you can, actually. she always knows when there’s a big house spider in her room bc they are NOT stealthy. it’s why she likes asmr - esp. in cat’s cradle - because it drowns out the small noises of the convent which don’t get tuned out by her brain.
light can be annoying for Bea. headcanon is that the museum heist sunglasses were not a brand new acquisition - Ava got them for Bea in Switzerland (‘you shouldn’t read in the sun if you’re gonna squint, bea’) because Beatrice got headaches from too much light, & they looked dorky so two birds with one stone. she does appreciate light, though, and loves sitting in the sun. anything that is not like England. she gets weird and sad when it rains too much. also HATES being rained on. fully sulks about it.
finally, stimming! i think when she’s upset Bea would, ideally, self-soothe by rocking. it’s why Mary does it, because Bea’s parents berated her for it so many times that her body freezes up at the thought. 
she likes to braid hair, as i said. likes tapping things, fiddling with things in her hands - reason why she’s so ‘puts hands behind back’ ‘puts hands in pockets’ ‘makes hands hold each other so they can’t do their own thing’. but yeah, in Switzerland it happens a lot more. playing with pens, tapping thumb & forefinger, tapping surfaces (very lightly), AHEM skipping stones. just keeping those guys busy. 
asmr is also stimming, btw. & so is eating the right food for the purpose of enjoying the textures. all of the touching. 
she also has mental stims! that r like… doing equations, or running through facts. counting primes. reciting as much of pi as she can in one minute, imagining a clock face and watching it move. i think so much of her stimming is probably mental, actually. rlly fun stims are finding linguistic patterns in things, or translating things back and forth - so like, from english to french to german to latin & then going back without cheating to see if any changes get imposed by counter-translating directly - also spatial reasoning in general is good stimming. thinking, how exactly would that fall? or imagining things swinging or shattering or anything like that, where you have to extrapolate a bit based on instinct and also knowledge. having to be so internal her whole life would have furnished her with a bunch of them, but i think her OCS family bring so many good visible stims to the surface too!
anyway, those are some of my thoughts on autistic bea. i love her very.
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someghostwriter · 2 months
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Times are changing
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Pairing: Alastor x Vox
Tags: implied murder, death, assassins, vox being a bad person
A/N: im really thinking, enjoy babesss
part 1 - part 2
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The feeling of electricity coursing through him was terrifying and interesting to him in a way
If it wasnt for the bad wiring in the back of the building, the water that he got soaked in when the man chasing him tried to drown him in a fucking toilet, Vincent wouldnt of died. The shock going through his body wouldnt of happened, and at most hed get electrical burn. Yet, he was stupid. Unlucky. Running from a man wanting him dead for reasons he had no clue, but probably revolved around his possition of wealth.
If it werent for the fact his family had money and he earned some from being a television host of the century, he would of been much more confused, and much more “begging for his life” kinda guy instead of instantly making a run for it. Vincent knew his life wasnt anyway holy, and that gave him strength others didnt get. Using his smile to charm his way out of perdigiments was his specialty at this point.
And yet, he felt his eyes roll to the back of his skull and the numbness and inability to move became clear. Consciousness slipped from his body slower then he wanted it, as it felt like he was being stabbed from inside of his body. Death was coming, and it was coming fast- He felt it desend upon him so quick he was confused. Many described death as slow, like life was flashing through your eyes when you do, but he didnt see anything. He felt his eyes fry, and the darkness was unnerving and yet quick. Like sleep, it only lasted for a moment, and yet it took hours.
A thud from him falling onto the ground hurt like a bitch, and he felt the electricity inside of him still. Humming, coursing, and he was quick to scramble as soon as mobility was given to his limbs. He pressed himself against the wall he found behind him, and he had a sense of imbalance aswell as unfamiliarity to his own body, and when he looked around, all he saw where freaks and hellish figures that was unrecognizable and yet slightly human in the red sky that told him this was his punishment for what he did in life.
A hand, his and yet so incredibly wrong anddifferent it confused him, reached to his face, meeting a screen that explained the heaviness of his very own head. A television screen. A reminder of his life, and the energy behind the screen coursing with the same electricity that killed him. Fuck, he barely was breathing- cus what the fuck was happening?
He stood, quicker then he could handle because he almost fell over from the heavy weight of his own head and the electricity that seemed to rush to his brain. Vincent rubbed the weird screen- somehow able to feel everything that touched it as it was his face, and slowly walked out of the alley he had found himself in to take a weary look at the surrounding area.
The streets resembled his time, yet had tidbits of something older, having things he recognized from childhood like the old buildings of chicago mixing in with the newer, with places he didnt entirely expect- Like a very obvious sex hotel that seemed to have more people openly talking about it then the prudes in his hometown did.
He held onto the fedora when he began walking- something he didnt realize had carried over to his afterlife until he instinctively tilted it infront of his face despite it hiding nothing. Walking down the streets was as if he was alive, but he knew he wasnt. Not with the red hue and the blood and corpses that casually splattered across the roads and sidewalk.
As he walked, he listened to the chatter with interest. His keen hearing seemed to amplify in death, and he easily sook out any voice that seemed to speak of the world around him. Most chatter was proper, yet there was too many that felt too old and some felt wrong in how they spoke. A man holding a stack of papers, giving them off to anyone whod pay. He found himself walking to the man, grabbing a paper without a thought and reading through it with interest.
“Hey, ya gotta pay for that bitch.” The man with an.. Wolfish appearance, He was ugly, to say the least. It ticked him off- He was use to many people.. Complying with his ideas. Treating him with the respect he deserved. His smile faltered but he forced it to stay.
“Darling, do you know who i am?” He hissed out between his teeth, the anger seething in his electrical currents bouncing around his body. The man seemed to back up in fear in a way that delighted Vincent so much he cackled, moving forward.
“Oh, you dont know me. Oh, maybe you should guess. Whats my name, brat?”
“I dont-” the wolf gasped
“Guess.” He growled with a smile stretching across his face. “Heres a hint: Starts with a V. ”
It was no surprise Vincent was in hell. Fear was addicting, ruining peoples lives to prove his power was something he’d done many times before. Finding that it was hell- a place without consequence for his evil- oh that was better then anything he would of expected.
He didnt know how he came up with the name Vox. It was a spur of the moment thought, when the man infront of him had to beg for his life. Finding out the hierarchy of hell was a treat, and learning he could gain power so easily- by being his.. Weird self.
So he began working.
Everyone in hell was gonna know his name, and he would take all the power he couldnt get in life, and nobody would stop him. He was going to be powerful enough that nobody would question him- his ability, his strength. He would take the painful electricity under his skin that only reminded him of dying and turn it into his power.
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popopretty · 1 year
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Hi, how is your day? I want to ask you about Dazai's character and its developments in the series, and what do you think of him? Do you think he's smarter than fyodor? Thank you for the answer in advance... And in the end, I would like to thank you for your hard work and your wonderful style of writing. it is relly special ..
Hi, thanks for the message. I am glad u like what I do (I don’t really “write”, just “translate”, though).
I’m quite bad at expressing my opinions. I normally do not give much thought to things until I am asked about it. So u may find it my answer all over the place because I haven’t had it arranged in my head, it’s more like pulling out old notes from a rusty drawer. So I’m sorry about it in advanced. And this is all my personal opinion, so you don’t have to agree with me.
Dazai is a complicated and interesting character for me. He is smart, too smart that it brings him misery. People say ignorance is bliss, right? Then Dazai must be the most unfortunate guy on earth. Even Asagiri once described him as someone who has lived for 2000 years. I, with the brain of a normal person, can’t bring myself to imagine how boring life would be for him, knowing things too well. Some might say that he was being overdramatic when he was young, and that he’d regret having all those thoughts when he gets older. But I personally don’t think so. I think the pain and agony he felt was real, then or now. Just that in the past, he hadn’t met people who would surprise him, or go beyond his calculations, he lived on thinking humans were ugly, sinful and stupid and didn’t understand why they should be saved. His head must have been overwhelmed with thoughts that no one would ever be able to understand, and no one would even try to understand. That is why he was always lonely, and suicidal. I don’t think he really wanted to die, he just couldn’t find what to live for.
The thing I like about Dazai’s character is that he fundamentally didn’t change, even with all the so-called character developments. He was still the smart, and sad and lonely guy that he used to be. But he have met people who made him want to try living, peope who gave him a purpose and people who genuinely cared about him. And those are things that even his genius brain couldn’t have predicted. From a fifteen year old who believed nothing was worth living for, he has become able to tell Kyouka that everyone deserves a second chance in life, to Fyodor that it is okay even if we are all sinfully stupid, and admit that no matter how well him and Fyodor can foresee things, the fate of the world is not decided by them, but the imperfect human beings that are fighting for what they deem precious out there. I doubt Dazai will ever get rid of his suicidal thoughts, or loneliness, but at least he has things he wants to protect, and it gives him the motivation to live on. We haven’t seen him talking about dying for no reasons for so long. Now he only lets himself get hurt, or take risky action for the greater sake (BEAST is not counted cuz that is a totally different universe), and I think it is a good sign in his character development.
I forgot to write about his relationship with Akutagawa and Atsushi. Basically, I don’t think Dazai was a good mentor. Someone who hardly experienced failure is not likely to become a good mentor. He treated Akutagawa badly in the past because all he could see was that the weak could not survive in the harsh world and there was no saving for them. But the meeting with Oda has changed his way of thinking. He now sees orphans and the weak as those he has to protect, that’s why the way he treated Atsushi is very different from that of Akutagawa. He is still not the best mentor, but he is better now.
About Fyodor, I don’t think he is smarter than Fyodor. They must be on the same level of wits. Dazai actually can act more human when he is around people like him, so having Fyodor as an opponent can actually be very entertaining to him. Even if Dazai is going to win the final battle, I don’t think it is because Dazai is smarter. He is just backed up by more people in the “somewhat beautiful” side.
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freckleslikestars · 9 months
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It’s been kinda a weirdly emotional day today.
So, this hill here is one that my dad has climbed twice with my brother - once on my 11th birthday and once on my 18th birthday. And both times I wanted to join them, but my mum said no because a) you need to entertain the people who are here to celebrate your birthday (11th was my uncle and 18th was my brother’s partner which…he was the one who left her to climb a hill. She was his partner why couldn’t he entertain her) and b) “your dad and brother don’t get much boy-time together. Let them enjoy it” (when I said I wanted boy-time too I was told I was a girl and to sit nicely and serve the sandwiches so…)
Anyway.
My dad really isn’t a big bucket-list kinda guy, but he’s always said he wants to climb it with me one time before he dies. And over the last year his health…well, let’s just say it’s not been improving.
Now, this is not a big hill, not by any stretch of the imagination (I think it’s got a prominence of about 80 meters so it’s really not high) but you have to factor in that dad’s got a whole load of health conditions, I’ve got chronic pain in my feet that I’ve had since childhood and a bunch of injuries from just before covid that never healed properly, and some pretty severe asthma, and we are from the flattest county in the country. Like. We are not people designed for hills. I mean, the house I grew up in was below sea level. I get altitude sickness going upstairs. In my life I’ve climbed two mountains and a glacier and they all took me the better part of a day.
So we go today, because neither of us is getting any younger. And we leave stupidly early in the morning. Because we’re like ‘this is gonna take us a good couple of hours’. We get there and we say we’ll take it at our own pace. It’s quiet and truly a beautiful morning. I have an asthma attack halfway up, but that was to be expected.
Even with the five minute break we took for me to recover, we still managed to climb it in just over half an hour. We then had to sit at the top for forty minutes whilst I dealt with a touch of vertigo. (Look. I have really shitty depth perception, and my brain couldn’t handle the fact that I knew the hill next to us was quite far away, but it looked like I should have been able to touch it. I have the same problem when looking at the clouds in the sky. Always have. It just makes me incredibly dizzy).
And like. It’s kinda dumb but this is something that we’ve been saying we’ll do together for years and it’s never really happened for one reason or another (usually illness and injury) and like. Today we just,,,did it. And it took the morning. And like. Okay I hurt like fuck now but also it’s just feels like this stupid hill - not one that’s particularly hard to climb or anything - is more of an achievement than any of the hikes I’ve ever gone on, because we did it together. I dunno.
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caelanglang · 10 months
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Have you ever taken a break from doing something you really loved doing for a stupid reason - like the inspiration has run out, or you can't remember why you liked it in the first place. It's been so long since you've enjoyed doing it and it just feels like a chore so you stop doing it for a while and now it's been days or weeks or maybe even months or years since you've done said thing.
And then out of nowhere you feel that random itch in your brain that whispers to you Do it. Do it again -
And the voice comes from nowhere, like a devil whispering in your ear demanding you to commit some sin. So of course you're worried - what if I'm not supposed to do the thing?? And you sit with the anxiety for a while and then decide that's stupid so of course you wave the anxiety off and decide fuck it let's do it!
And so you go to do the thing and your hands shake as the anxiety sets back in - what if I don't remember?
It's been so long, maybe too long, what if you've forgotten? What if it hurts more to return than it hurt to leave in the first place? What if it all kills you inside and rips you apart because you used to be good and now you aren't. And what if you were never meant to do it at all?
But still, you're sitting down so you might as well try . . . and it's like the world has suddenly become a little brighter. Because it flows right out of you, like a dam that's been overflowing for a little bit too long. This - this is home. You've done it a million times before but this moment? It's like you're doing it for the first time all over again and the wonder has set back in. Life has color again and you realize just how much you've been missing that thing. You didn't realize it - not with how monotonous it had felt before but . . .
But life without it was a little less full and you decide that you'd rather not live like that again.
So yeah I started writing again, and halfway through the word's clicked and I felt a little better.
*running up to you and giving you a big big hug*
hey there, I hope you know that whatever it is that you went through, it's valid to feel those emotions and I am so darn proud of you for overcoming all the noises and anxieties and fears that's been trying to stop you from loving your craft all over again. What ever reason it is that made you stop for a while, I don't think it stupid. It happens to the best of us. I hope you are not undermining the things that you went through because I understand that feeling,,, burning out or completely losing touch of something is so painful. Having the desire to return to it but realizing that the magic from before isn't there anymore hurts just as much. It's valid to be afraid of trying again or returning to something. I am so happy that you took the leap forward.
Welcome home. I'm glad you got to feel the passion overflowing again. I'm glad that you got to see the colors again. I hope that you know, even homes need renovations too sometimes. It's not your fault for running out of steam or motivation. What's important is that you are still alive—living and pushing through. One day, you'll be able to channel all those into your craft too! That's why humans create in the first place; we express our lives and emotions through creations :)) I'm truly happy for you and I am cheering you on!
And you are right! When the voices come and try to stop you from creating always tell yourself "fuck it let's do it!"
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voidfishbitch · 2 years
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Not all exits are created equal.
Amber was starting to think that all of them were specifically designed by some divine artist with an especially sick sense of humor.
{I’ve been running my brain like a little hamster wheel bc I feel like there has to be a reason for Amber doing what she did at the end of Episode 43. And it ended up with…well, this. Enjoy}
She held Koda’s unflinching red gaze, willingly herself to blink as little as possible, keeping her expression composed. Well, composed and a little pained, given the dragon that had attempted to turn her into Coral Chow. Not that it really mattered now, given the much bigger threat in front of her. Kodeira’s dark eyes sparkled with ruby flashes, reflecting her God’s guiding light. Anyone else would think that none of Oksana remained behind that stare, as cold and impersonal as a laser sight, boring into Amber’s forehead. Of course, not everyone had spent 26 years knowing her, memorizing the meaning behind every glance and twitch. Amber certainly didn’t do it intentionally; it honestly came as a slight surprise that she was able to read Kodeira so well during their fight. So either she was intimately familiar with the warring deity piloting her friend’s meat sack - or Oksana was still in there, giving every last shred of will to resist Koda’s influence.
Well, if Oksana was willing to destroy herself to keep Koda from getting to Amber, it felt impolite to not return the favor.
But not unless her boys were safe. No use trying to escape if Koda was able to threaten the people she actually gave a damn about and lure her back.
It was stupid, really. Amber had long prided herself on her ability to remain detached. In 25 years, she’d had a smattering of casual acquaintances, a handful of flings, and never learned more about a person than the best place to land a punch. She knew Joshy well, but if push came to shove, he’d save his own skin over hers. She respected him for that, no false pretenses of “never abandoning the other” and “sticking together no matter what”, because if she’d learned anything, it was that you didn’t get to make that choice, life did. And when life decided to sweep your loved ones overboard, or make them sick, or get them into drugs that made them less than human, or give them a permanent psychic connection to God - well, either you wore yourself ragged crying and screaming and hurting or you learned not to care so much. Maybe it was lonelier, but it was livable.
And then these two idiots had to go and get mugged in a back alleyway of the Knuckle and Amber, unofficial peacekeeper, had to fish them out of the deep shit they were diving into. She quickly realized that without at least a little adult supervision, the delicate-faced little punk and the trigger-happy Brinear would get into even more trouble, so she followed them. They were so young, so open and curious about the world, and Amber had grown so used to being surrounded by others, jaded and exhausted by the end of the world as they knew it. It was interesting at first, a breath of fresh air, and before she realized what she was doing, she was signing her name as Captain of a ship, out on adventures to see the great big ocean. She was reaching out to catch Devo as he fell from various heights and attempting to coach Zoox through new conversations with various marine life. By the time she realized she cared, it was already too late. It broke her heart, watching them learn that the world was mean, and that people were cruel, and that you had to toughen up to survive. Even as she grew frustrated with Devo and his outbursts, a part of her wanted to rage alongside him, while another wanted to hold him and tell him she was sorry, that he didn’t deserve everything he had been through and that everything would eventually be all right.
But it had been twenty five years since she’d even tried caring. She didn’t know what to say or do, how to make things right. She could throw a good punch and try to toughen up her boys to keep them from hurting and that was pretty much it. What use was there in lying & saying things would be all right? The world itself had fucking ended and Amber was barely able to scrape by, just surviving, not living. Even with how much she cared, just saying the words felt hollow.
She would never know what to say to Devo and Zoox, how to make amends for the fight in the street, how to say she knew that the world sucked, but they were both capable of so much good, and she knew what wonderful beings they could become. How much she loved them and how far she would go to keep them safe. So maybe it was better that she didn’t get the chance to say anything at all.
She could hear his footsteps on the stairs and hear his labored breathing - he was injured, badly, but he was alive. Only one set of footsteps…but she didn’t dare look away from Koda. He had to believe that she was going to willingly submit, and she had to ensure that he wouldn’t move against Devo or…
“There’s only one being left in the tower, Amber.”
Amber clenched her teeth. Goddamnit Zoox. Walk away for two minutes and-
No, not now. Swallow it down. You have work to do, Gris. You can never save everyone, but if you give up now, you save no one.
She could feel Devo standing over her shoulder, imagine his awe staring out into this new world. At least he’ll know where she’s gone, even if he may never know why.
“All right, Koda.”
Not all exits are created equal. Sometimes you watch, bleeding from the chest, mind and voice raw and exhausted, as your last living friend suddenly bursts forward, moving far faster than you would guess for a woman her age. You watch as she slides gracefully through the outstretched arms of a vengeful god and throws herself headlong towards an ocean of predators. You don’t understand why she’s doing it, what she hopes to accomplish, as Koda howls and throws himself after her. But she turns, just a little, in the air, and she catches a final glimpse of you. And she smiles, and screams an unusual war cry:
“Kela Sai, guppies - Mama’s home!”
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dualityvn · 2 years
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i am giving myself a brain break from my other obligations by writing you another unhinged theory post. (and because i miss sending you these wait who said that) enjoy <3
ight so, i was close last time and my main points then were [redacted] and [redacted] (bc i don't know if this is gonna be closer or not so i dunno if ur gonna post it) since one of those points has been all but confirmed due to recent ask answers and you not posting my theory, im gonna skip right over top of it. ( i am trying to be vague you'll get the picture)
So instead were gonna talk about the part im pretty sure i got wrong, or at least not close, which is where Tenebris/ maybe Keith? still up in the air on if Keith is aware when he's not in direct control, go when not physically present in the world. Due to being able to give ask answers more weight now i do think Tenebris is at least visible to most other people. It could be that as they've both grown, Tenebris has become able to hide his presence a little bit better, resulting in Keith being able to have negative relationships with his exs because why else would anyone think to hurt the poor flower boy when he has a literal monster standing behind him. unless they were just stupid, which is a very real possibility because of the aforementioned being mean to the sweet and adorable Keith. Tenebris' general existence provides some reasoning behind Keiths' parents actions, once again not excusing them because they suck and i hate them, but in one of the asks you said that their relationship with Keith would probably have at least been better if they had only had Keith alone, they didn't want Tenebris too. (which once again sucks i get that its not the ideal situation to have some sort of violent 'monster' living a very attached life with your son but maybe if you had treated them both with human decency and they wouldn't be such 'monsters' huh? bet you didn't think about that did you. god i hate them)
Moving on.
Sudden thought that was Not planned for this, but what if the line "he is speaking, speaking for me" from the song means like, Tenebris can see the world when he's not physically present but cant talk, he has to talk through Keith. and Keith is just like, a prisoner in his own body when this happens. oooo that's neat. i had something else planned but that's a cool concept im gonna rock with that.
im fairly certain this isnt going to get posted so hi nightmare how are you. hope ur feeling better, shitty life stuff sucks, but it'll get better i pwomise mwah (that and the heart earlier are platonic btw i wouldn't wanna step on Tads creators toes and get excommunicated from the church of Tad that would be very unradical)
Speaking of Tad since this is just me talking to you now apparently, i saw the outcry for a Tad theory and while I do have Thoughts i don't have anything super concrete yet. Plus notamonsterfucker wanted to work with me on theory stuff sometime and i lov them so we're thinking about Tad Together so it'll be a bit unless your boyfriend wants to feed us some more crumbs. Thatd be pretty cool, but no pressure obviously. This isn't a Tad blog and i as much as i enjoy Tad, i enjoy Keith and Tenebris more so keep making what you wanna make and i will continue to stew on your vagueness.
uuhh not much theory there at the end but yeah. also this received even less than my usual amount of proofreading because it is nearly midnight here and i am Tired so if its is unreadable that is why.
goodnight
I'm gonna show this, cause it still doesn't mention their explicit situation. Last one had something that was spot on, hehe. But yeah, you're doing good, but some things are still not quite there yet
And hello, I'm doing better today, thank you for asking :D
I'm glad you guys are bonding over Tad lore, lmao. I know my bf is cooking something, cause that ending to the restaurant ad had a sus end. Or maybe he has no idea what he's doing, who knows? He's definitely enjoying the attention Tad is getting though.
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izzy-b-hands · 8 months
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Ongoing PTSD breakdown trauma stuff below the cut, pls ignore, just need to spew it somewhere that like. I know my feelings will be safe to have and type up and whatever. Also, sorta? mild our flag spoilers under the cut bc my brain is a mess and I use characters I love to help metaphor out and explain my own shit so. yeah. that's also a thing here.
Motherfucking random traumatic memory abt Mum fucking. Randomly hitting me while I'm writing fic (for no apparent reason, no idea what triggered my brain to throw this at me when I WAS NEARLY DONE WITH THE FUCKING FIC NO LESS)
So goddamn rude. I'm off my track on the fic now, so I'm setting it aside for the night (we have Ren Faire today (it literally just hit midnight lol), but after that I want to get back to it) and realising I should really write this memory down.
Like. all of the little details about it, the bits of Mum and I and our relationship surrounding it. Both because my brain does tend to shutter some of those things away and makes them hard to get to without it being stupid lengthy a process involving talking out every feeling I'm having with someone else(unless it pulls some shit like tonight, then suddenly it's no fucking problem throwing it all over the place apparently) and because like
I don't know if I could say this one out loud to anyone, but I think I should. Probably a therapist, but it's one of those stupid trauma things of you just Want Someone, Anyone To Know, Now. To acknowledge it and say if it was as fucked up as it feels (bc I will never deny the possibility that I'm being dramatic and it isn't, and I should just. chill the fuck out about it.)
But every time I start trying to type it out I get hit with this wave of a physical response where my arms and wrists and fingers feel like they're clenching up and I Can't type it. And there's a part of me that doesn't want to because if I can see it in letters on a page, then it's real. It's real and it happened and maybe it was as fucked up as it feels like it was and if that's all true then like. it fits with everything else about our relationship that's already fucked up, from the severe (better than it used to be, but I'm sure it's very clear to y'all that it's still Not Good even though I've moved away from her) co-dependence to the emotional incest (fun fact: that term feels like a gut punch every time I hear it, and I've heard it from my therapist more than a few times now over the past 9ish years of treatment.) So I shouldn't be shocked by that or like, upset, right?
Yet I'm here typing this out to put off typing it up, and I'd bet money I don't necessarily have that I'll wind up putting my laptop away, showering, and going to bed without getting it typed. For better or for worse.
Part of the reason I worry so much abt Frenchie this season (aside from that I love him and he's one of my faves and I want nothing but good and happy for him) is because I also subscribe to his 'shove all the fucked up shit you've seen/experienced in a box in your mind and just. Never open it unless you're putting more in there' method of coping (have all my life, it was so weirdly validating to see it onscreen like that explained so plainly) and like. This is me when the box somehow pops open when I didn't mean it to, and I both want Frenchie to be able to process the things that have happened to him but also don't want to see a character I love so much hurt like this. Because it feels like a big stupid gaping open wound in my chest that I'm being entirely too dramatic about, no matter how valid feeling that way abt it might be.
Kind of hope I can just shut the lid on the box so I can get done and go to sleep after I post this. Should I actually type out the memory and everything? I hate to think that the answer my therapist would have given me, if I could afford to be seeing her rn, would be yes. But the thing is, I have fucking Ren Faire tomorrow in my Izzy cosplay (that Housemate says I look good in, which I'll vainly admit I'm rather happy about, even if it is a very inaccurate and homemade cosplay that's missing certain details I can't yet afford to buy), and I don't want to be dealing with any of this for the rest of the night/into tomorrow. I need to sleep so I can go have some fucking fun, for once. I even feel ok to bring my cane with folded in my bag, just in case I need it, bc that would still be in character if I wind up needing to use it. I can count on one hand the times I've had a fun experience where I also felt safe admitting when my body was hurting and using a physical aid to help it get by; I'm not losing this one.
It's not getting typed out, and I need to duct tape that fucking box shut for now.
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psychelis-new · 5 months
Note
hello, love, i hope you're doing allright. i hope i am not bothering you.. if so, please feel free to ignore this ask <3
could you please tell me your opinion about this? https://www.tumblr.com/goldenestheart/737125132364120064/okay-i-have-to-add-something-remember-this-is-my?source=share
Thank you so much and have wonderful day/night.
Hello darling!
My opinion is always the same. :)
Readings are based on the energy and intention present in the moment they are done/read/received, but each one of us is always able of changing the result (especially the far away in the future-results): not taking an action, changing your mind, having doubts, doing or not doing something is always in your hands and this ofc can change the result of readings (as it changes the background intentions) or postpone their realization too. Or they can come true but in a different way than we expect them to and we may miss that too. Basically, this person is right on this "the future is in your hands" (but also in the hands of fate and faith, at times).
If you believe in energies and that we're all connected, you can believe that someone on the other side of the world can see your future when you ask them to. It's not a matter of age (what society wants you to do is "to act up, grow up, be an adult", as this person is saying, but this doesn't mean you need to close off magic from your life: you can still be in touch with your inner child and help them believe that you can reach your dreams; it doesn't mean you're naive or stupid and if someone is judging you this way, you can be sure it's pretty much their pain talking -this is plain psychology). And you can also believe that this reader living on the other side of the world can read your energy through initials or any other mean they find of use. Why this cannot be real? (The opposite question is as important here imo).
If we start putting mind (as this person says "use your brain") into a realm that has a little to nothing to do with reason, ofc nothing will work. Nothing will make sense. But it doesn't have to, does it? We're not talking about things that always make sense by books' definition: your intuition is not reason (reason ruins it, if anything); the same way your energy cannot be simplified in a math equation and always be reasonable under your own timing and conditions (and even Einstein was saying: everything is energy, we are made of energy too). You cannot ask it to be so reasonable cause it makes you feel better and it gives you a little bit of control over the whole process. Sadly there's no such deep control over energies nor future. It's a matter of trusting and believing, also in divine timing. In getting ready for something. Maybe not what you precisely wished for as not everything may be for you the way you'd like it to, but... stay ready and open to receive blessings, and you'll be provided.
I rather not judge others generally but to me, this person is very much hurt now. And I'm sorry. They probably held very high hopes or based everything on readings they got but never moved a finger to make things happen (or didn't take the proper actions, maybe even those suggested by a reader IDK), they simply waited or had doubts all over the process, and this is why none of the readings they got ever happened to be true. Not even partially (which I doubt, but it could be ofc. Maybe they have a better memory than me, a memory that is also not biased by the negativity -when we encounter negative stuff in life, when we feel triggered/overwhelmed, we tend to focus on that alone and forget about any little positive around us or in our past. That's pretty much human but it can enter also in our spirituality: we can stop believing ofc cause we're hurt and feel let down once again also on that side). Maybe they also asked the wrong readers: not because you pay a reader they HAVE TO be the right one to read you, imo. Energies go beyond our 3d "rules". Or, they took readings too much by word while at times that's not how they need to be taken (for them, and in that specific case): I for example once got in a pac I would have inherited/gained a huge amount of money in a couple of days but instead I found a few bucks (which honestly, very good: they came as unexpectedly). I think this is why their inner child is still in the same place and very much wounded, refusing to believe in energies and magic but turning to a much easier and safer "it's all bs"-life. They just feel abandoned once again and don't wanna suffer anymore and I honestly understand it too. If it makes them feel safer and more in control, sure they have to do it. They need to take a distance and cope with the pain as it's better for them to. And heal whatever trigger they got (be it even time running away and them still seeing nothing/no change and feeling let down and trapped in some hurtful reality). And if they'll need to come back to spirituality one day, they can too ofc: they need to follow what's better for them at any given time. Each one of us should do this. Ask ourselves/the 5d questions, try to understand, have doubts... it's all good and normal: we're humans. Let's be solving what's not working so to make it work for us.
But. It's also not right to offend others or impose on them our beliefs cause of our pain and our situation. I think everyone is free of believing or not in spirituality and to decide in what ways. It's a very personal thing to me. It's something each one of us has to decide inside of themselves, meditating what's best for them at each time of their lives too. It's not something someone else can decide for you, no matter what. It's not something someone can impose on you or judge you for. It goes beyond everything. (SInce you're here though, I assume you may believe, so:) Y'all are very much able to understand when getting a reading if someone is telling you something that is accurate on you, be it an image or a sign or anything, or not. If you're only hearing what you need to hear or not. You can objectively understand if you're being played with random words that can work for everyone (remember in pacs obviously words will be more general) or if there are messages that are just for you and resonate for you and your question. I'm not saying there aren't scammers (especially in my culture it's plenty), but I am also saying you can recognize them. And I am also saying you can ofc follow an advice given by a reader as much as you can refuse to acknowledge it: at times we're not open enough to receive certain type of guidance or to understand it and that's okay. If we need to receive a message, you can be pretty sure the Universe will deliver it clearly. And also: not everything that doesn't happen in our life as/when we'd like to (or as mentioned in a reading) is there to hinder us, or to tell us "no". Maybe it's there simply as a lesson we need to learn to actually get there, and if we're not getting it right we're just hindering ourselves out of a mistake.
Let me end with: please keep using readings and astrology as a guidance/signs, not as the Holy Grail of your life.
Have a lovely day/night!<3
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khaleesiofalicante · 2 years
Note
Hola Dani, ¿cómo estás? 👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼
I'm very talkative today so this one will probably be extra long, sorry 😬
This is a Clusterfuck
So is my life...!!!  😭
I know this chapter is going to hurt I just know!!!
THE BEGINNING
Fuck Camille 🤬
Listen I'm an Alec stan first and a reasonable person never, so I will be on his side no matter what!!
Kill that bitch... 🔪
But he couldn’t kill the curiosity inside him.
Curiosity is going to take your cat loving baby away 😭
But then he had never turned up.
Oh no 😔 I don't like it!!
Alec had lied and come up with an excuse about meeting his mom.
You shouldn't have lied...!!! About anything!!!
“Magnus doesn’t like sunlight,” Alec rolls his eyes. “He is not a morning person.”
Boom!! In your face!!
🤬🤬🤬🤬 I want to puch her in her stupid face!!!
Stop playing mind games with my twin!!!!
“Write to Edom. Write to Asmodeus. Convince them to let him stay.”
Hoe! Don't do it!! I KNOW YOU!! DON'T!!
He turns on the computer.
Trun it back off!!!
Noooooooooooooo!!! Alec no! Dani make him stop 🙏🏼
His finger hovers over ‘Enter’.
Please don't 😭
He spent all but 20 minutes with her and she got into his head.
Is what she does, she is an evil one!
He stills.
“Magnus?”
Oh shit!! This is it, the end of the beginning 😭 he's leaving 😭😭
Why am I crying? I knew this was gonna happen
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THE MIDDLE
Now this is a crying part 😭
Oh shit!! 🥲 you know Dani I actually miss the time when I didn't know what was going on, when the timeline was a mystery to me 😭
The last four years have been the hardest in Alec’s life.
Mine too... I feel like I've been suffering for 30 years from TLND related pains
Max sometimes uses it to practice his TikTok dances.
Naturally, is there a better use for such a room? Sexy Mavid times maybe 😌
I miss Mavid but I also fear that the next time we see them would be about David leaving and I'm not ready for that 🥲
So much so that some people started spreading rumors that Alec married an Asian Man and adopted a Black baby and a Latino boy to win the minority votes.
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“You are losing votes, Alec,” Kadir speaks quietly. “It’s two weeks before the reelection and you are losing votes.”
I hate politics!!!
Rafael holds up his laptop. “I, uh, I need to send my college application tonight. I was wondering if you can read my essay.”
I swear Rafael mi bebé precioso not being able to enjoy the college experience is going to be my villain origin story
“Sir, it’s the swimming tournament,” Leslie points out. “The national championship.”
What???? My chaotic child 🥲 I'm very close to flipping tables 🙃
“David went too,” Tian provides.
Of course, mon prince charmant, je l'aime trop 🥰
Alec blinks away the sleep and reads through them both, using track changes to mark his edits.
Ok... so my plan is to go all inception on your brain and take my family to a nice vacation and because I'm in charge no one will bother them it'll be happiness all the way, then I'll return them to you 🤷🏻‍♀️ cause I do love how you torture them, but they need a break 😌🙌🏼
He needs to be strong to survive this.
Me too...!!!
He shuffles close to Magnus and turns around. He lifts the man’s arm and puts it over his waist, clutching it tightly.
Ok, is crying time, is fine, I sleep better when I cry 🥲
“Yes,” Max says with a mouthful of toast. “That’s bad bitch behavior.”
It is bad bitch behavior!!! Is so sad how my baby had plans and then 😭😭😭😭
Magnus smiling. Alec kissing his cheek. Rafael and Max being playful little shits as usual.
Is a beautiful picture, the context however is killing me 😭
Then Alec’s phone starts to ring.
Noooooooooooooo NO NO 😔  please no more, I'm already dead
“It’s under his pillow,” Max says. “He keeps it there so he can look at the pic of dad and talk-”
No Dani!!! It was sad/cute before and now is sad/SAD
“Luca,” Alec says in recognition.
“I would like to talk to Magnus if that’s alright,” the man says, his voice gentle.
Talk to all of them, every single human in that house needs help, I know that's not how therapists work but I'll take it!!
I don't wanna read the letter 😭😭
Alec's hands shake as he shoves the letter back inside the envelope.
Keep it there!!
Ok this part was horrible
THE END
I get a feeling this is going to be even worse, I bet that thing (you know the one 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨) that shall not be named is going to kill my twin
Aww... now THIS is a nice letter, I am love this letter 🥰
“Chocolate and coffee donuts,” Max grins.
I only see Mavid 😍
“Well,” Alec says. “Kinda?”
🤣🤣🤣
“Kind of. I left my inhaler at Edom when I was there to cover for your ass. So, I went to pick it up.”
WAIT!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO... IS THE SAME DAY... nooo Dani, don't you dare!!!!
Alec is going to stop by and see them kissing, isn’t he??
Noooooo... No... nah... NOPE!!! You wouldn't, I mean... no, nope... nah
“What was he doing there?” Alec asks his son.
😜😜😜
“Oh?” Alec says. “Why is he always coming over when I am not home?”
My sweet beloved twin... love is beautiful thing, my theory is that he'll figure it out when he sees Max crying because David is going to England 🙌🏼🙌🏼
He takes out his own phone and then frowns at it. “Ah. I have a free slot before doing jackshit and after finishing fuck-all. We’re good.”
You lying little shit, your calendar is David filled and now Edom sneaking I suppose 🤷🏻‍♀️
Wait... why is the staff on leave at the same time??? Dani... I don't like where this is going 😭
Izzy!!! My queen 🥰🙌🏼
How many donuts are in that box?? I want one 🤣
“Erm,” Alec clears his throat. “I’m off whiskey. For the moment.”
Good! And you better stay that way!!!
“None for me,” she shakes her head. “Thank you.”
OMG 😯 is she pregnant???? 😍
She doesn't want sea food, she is pregnant!!!
“No. No. Like emotionally. It was very emotionally sexy.”
What the fuck is emotionally sexy?? 🤣🤣
“Which is why your vibe detector is unreliable,” Izzy rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t know shit unless it hits you in the fucking face.”
True...!! I mean Mavid is pretty obvious and you haven't noticed Alec, I am loving this conversation 🙌🏼🙌🏼
“I think you are right,” Alec says in a small voice.
Of course she is!!! Is Izzy!!!
I'm so happy Alec finally had this conversation!!!
“Okay,” she says. “Then go.”
“What? Now?”
Nooooooo... not now!! Tomorrow do it tomorrow!!!
Ay noooo Danielaaaa!!!!
“Yeah, I am not the pregnant one though.”
He knows... good for you Alec!!! ⭐️
Izzy changed the group chat name to People Who are Not Pregnant + Izzy
Can't this people communicate normally??? 🤣
Not since Jace's retirement party.
This I need to see... I know it will hurt but I'm curious 😌
Alec scoffs at that and walks towards the building.
Pleaseeee!!!
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Alec’s heart screams at that.
Noooooooooooooo!!!!!
He is wearing that same t-shirt.
My twin I feel your pain!!!
He can feel himself burning. He wants it to stop.
Please tell me he isn't having a heart attack 🙏🏼
When he gets home, he jumps out of the car and runs upstairs.
He is going to see Max with David, isn’t he??
He throws the door open.
He stops.
He sees.
Soooo... it's let's kill Alec day I see!!!
“You’re not going to take him from me,” Max growls.
Oh Max... I don't like this, if Max leaves then Alec would definitely die 😭😭
Ok... this conversation isn't going as bad as I thought it would, I'll keep the hope!!
Ok I spoke too soon, is going terrible!!!
You will see how fucked up this life can get, and you will run away.
Oh Alec!!! 😭😭😭
Max runs after him and blocks his way. “Don’t.”
Please DON'T fight on the stairs, I've seen enough telenovelas to know it won't end well
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“No wonder bapak left you,” Max spits. “You make me want to kill myself too.”
MAXWELL!!! 🥺
“Dad?” he hears a voice. “Dad? Are you okay?”
No Max we're all dying right now or we're already dead I don't even know anymore 😭😭😭
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I will never talk to David again. I promise. Please. I’m so sorry. Dad. Please. Don’t cry.
Max you really should stop talking cause if David hears you and I loose my Mavid happiness I won't resuscitate this time 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
He hears Max gasp.
“David?”
Noooooooooooooo....!!!! There are not enough tables in this world for me to flip!!!!
Stumbling. Falling. Scrambling. 
Fuck my life!!! Is like every single thing I didn’t want happened at once!!!
It's the voice of a boy in unimaginable agony. 
It's his Max. 
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Wow Dani, you really outdid yourself with this one!!
Sorry for all the yelling 😬 I am LOVE you 💚💚
Thank youuuu Dani!!! You're the best!!!
💚💚💚💚💚
I KNOW I SAY THIS EVERY TIME BUT GIFS >>>>
I literally lost my shit at the Jorah screaming 'Khaleesi' one jhsdbfcjkbnskdncfsk.
ILYYYYYY SEE YOU FRIDAY BABY BOO.
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dreadfutures · 2 years
Text
my junior and senior year of college i had this mad crush on one of my grad student friends who also ended up TAing a bunch of my upper divs and we bonded over a ton of music and we matched on Bumble and everything and then it turned out he was into a friend of mine and he ghosted me and i was sad
and honestly it was probably the last time I had a really good stupid happy crush and I was just thinking this morning about how with so many emotions i intellectualize as a coping mechanism and distance myself and don’t allow myself to feel them fully because like. what am i going to do with those things? when I’m so angry i want to bite something because my dog shit on my floor even tho i took him out on two long walks because I KNEW he needed to poop, what am I supposed to do? bite something???? no. a what’s the point and b what could i do to express that emotion harmlessly and c it’s not proportionate to what’s really happening in life to warrant that feeling
but crushes? crushes? i can fully allow myself to be swept off my feet by affection and fondness and accept the irrationality of it and keep it to myself or express it as much as i want and who knows how it’ll go but it’s okay. and i miss that feeling and the only reason i haven’t felt that feeling is because of how isolated it is here.
i’ve felt that way about one other person since then but it was marred by this underlying grief and restraint i had to show, but it was the same deal.
anyway camden’s song is Agnes by Glass Animals and I was obsessed with them before he told me it as his favorite but now whenever i hear it i think about him and love even though it’s the saddest song in the world
and i had never watched the music video but:
dear friends…nervously excited to share with you the video for Agnes. it’s hard to explain exactly how it feels inside a human centrifuge. you sit in a small egg-like pod about the size of a horse which hangs off a 50 foot steel horizontal frame. It looks like something out of a bond villain’s lair. it’s claustrophobic and uncomfortable and also incredibly hot.
slowly the whole thing starts to rotate like a helicopter blade. Faster and faster until every part of you becomes crushed under the extreme gravity. its like being slowly sat on by an elephant, or like your whole body being punched in slow motion. you have to flex every muscle and use every ounce of strength you have to keep going. breathing requires serious effort. movement becomes incredibly strained and almost painful. everything that once weighed 5 kilograms now weighs 50. its difficult even to keep your eyes open. it hurts in places you really didn’t know existed. veins and capillaries burst under the pressure and bruising begins. its a rapid physical overdrive.
the blood rushes from your brain making it impossible to think rationally or focus. your eyes are also drained and you get tunnel vision…only able to see small circles of the world directly infront of you and your sight goes completely greyscale…no more colour. your balance and spatial awareness goes and the world begins to spin like you’ve had way too much to drink. but the most striking thing is the way that the machine pulls on your heart. you can actually feel it struggling to beat and changing shape…flattening inside of your chest. Its similar to that horrible sinking, tugging heartache that comes only with complete and overwhelming sadness. and then you pass out.
we ran the centrifuge 18 times while i tried to sing along to a song which i find difficult to listen to at the best of times.
this was probably the most intense video-making experience I’ll ever have. But its the only way that we could just about begin to simulate for a moment what happens within Agnes.
speak soon,
dave
I dunno there’s something about this expression of the centrifuge and that feeling that is so viscerally familiar to me and I get it man, I get it. and that’s another emotion that I have allowed myself to feel fully and completely and those are the extremes of life, you know? the whole range of human beatific revelation lies within those bounds.
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loml-day · 7 months
Text
Zedd would start wars and burn cities for that true smile.
“You're Spider-Man, and I love that. But I love Peter Parker more.”
— TASM 2.
“And sit together, now and forever. For it is plain, as anyone can see. We're simply meant to be.”
— The Nightmare Before Christmas.
“You set me free. Now I can do the same for you.”
— Corpse Bride.
“Being brave doesn't mean you aren't scared. Being brave means you are scared, really scared, badly scared, and you do the right thing anyway.”
— Coraline.
“You and me, we're all that's left. So, uh, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together.”
— Supernatural.
“You’re changing the world, and I want to be a part of it.”
— Supernatural.
“My life before him was so simple and decided, now after him... It's just... After.”
— After.
You aren’t my type, just the way that I am not yours. But that’s why we are good for each other—we are so different, yet we’re the same. You told me once that I bring out the worst in you. Well, you bring out the best in me. I know you feel it, too, Tessa. And yes, I didn’t date, until you. You make me want to date, you make me want to be better. I want you to think I am worthy of you; I want you to want me the way I do you. I want to fight with you, even scream at each other until one of us admits we are wrong. I want to make you laugh, and listen to you ramble about classic novels. I just . . . I need you. I know I am cruel at times . . . well, all the time, but that’s only because I don’t know how else to be.” His voice becomes a half whisper, his eyes wild. “This has been me for so long, I have never wanted to be any other way. Until now, until you.”
— After.
“Whatever the hell our souls are made of hers and mine are the same.”
— After.
“Do you remember when you asked me who I loved the most in the world? It's you. You're the person that I love most in the world.”
— After.
“That's the choice. I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose.”
— RW&RB.
“Take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.”
— RW&RB.
“I hate this so much. I know. But we’re gonna do it together. And we’re gonna make it work. You and me and history, remember? We’re just gonna fucking fight. Because you’re it, okay? I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you. So, I promise you, one day we’ll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.”
— RW&RB.
“Every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with, whom the American people will hold beside them in hearts and memories and history books. America: He is my choice.”
— RW&RB.
“Even when we're apart, we'll be looking at the same sky.”
— Daughters Of Darkness.
“We're not on different paths. You're my path. And you're always gonna be my path. And I know there's a million reasons why we shouldn't be together. I know that. But I'm tired of them. I'm tired of every single one of them. We've all gotta make a choice. Right? Well, I choose you. So, here's my thought.”
— TASM 2.
“You don’t need a mirror to look good. You’re beautiful on the inside.”
— Adventure Time.
“When I look at you, my brain goes all stupid, and I just wanna hug you, and sit on the couch and play BMO with you.”
— Adventure Time
“Bonnie, thank you for helping me grow up.”
— Adventure Time.
“And honestly, when I’m with her, I completely forget what I am.”
— The Vampire Diaries.
“You don’t know what it’s like being in love with you. You know, when you and I were together, every single atom in my body told me that it was the right thing, that we were a perfect fit. And that kind of love, it can change your whole life.”
— The Vampire Diaries.
“I don’t want to face my future without you.”
— The Vampire Diaries.
“I will always choose you.”
— The Vampire Diaries.
“Let's do things differently this time. So differently.”
— Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse.
“I could kiss you forever.”
— XO, Kitty.
“You’re my favorite person.”
— Heartstopper.
“I know people have hurt you. And you feel like I’d be better off without you, but I need you to know that my life is way better because I met you.”
— Heartstopper.
“I like you when you are yourself.”
— Young Royals.
0 notes
finsterhund · 1 year
Text
I just don't fucking know man.
I guess "respect for the source material" is what I wish more people had for Heart of Darkness? The more and more time progresses the more it feels like I'm the only person who actually loves this game for what it is and what it's trying to do. So many other people just clearly want it to be something else and because it's such an important thing to me that is absolutely infuriating.
In the past there used to be more fans who were in live with the game akin to the way I am. Lili, Shynox, who are long gone now and I miss them. Fishy too was a lot more actively writing. Life hits hard. I myself have not created anything constructive or transformative or artistic in fucking years. Miserable.
I think back about how somebody refered to me as a "fandom of one" and yeah. That's what it feels like. That I'm alone. Or almost alone. Insert "American chestnut tree root stump metaphor" or whatever stupid fucking shit here.
Thinking now with the clairvoyance and functionality of my brain at 2AM a big factor I think for my mental collapse and loss of passion for things was that I had the entire year I was grieving Cazza this one guy who would not stop bothering and pestering and annoying me with shitty HoD ideas and they went as far as to repeatedly violate my personal space and do things that were a potential danger to themselves and others even though I repeatedly told them not to. How that quickly sapped away the energy I have for my loves and my passions. How I'm trying to take time to grieve the greatest thing in my life being torn from me and I'm getting someone shitting on my favourite thing in the universe that I should have been able to fall back on for support.
I'm still always going to be the biggest fan of heart of darkness. Uncontested. The power of my extremely obsessive brain will see to that. Nobody will love this game as much as I do, or the way that I do. But I'm just a husk of how I used to be.
I miss being active online with my friends. But I struggle to be there and present. Our new TTRPG was put on indefinite hiatus and things are a struggle for much of them as well. Nobody can fucking win in this world it seems.
It's about a week until my birthday and then a little over a week after that it'll be the anniversary of Cazza's death. I don't think I'm going to be strong enough to make it.
My roommate's evidently had a serious mental break so for the past month just about I've been the only pillar in this household. Despite how I'm falling apart and deteriorating I'm forced to be the glue that's the only thing that keeps this whole operation together. I think maybe t reason I haven't just gone and killed myself is the pressure of knowing that nothing will sustain itself in my absense here. It's a weight and a burden. It is not a comfort. In the end my roommate wanting to sit and lie on my bed just to be close with me things like that chip away at my sense of space. I don't want to hurt him but you know how territorial I get. How much I need for my space to be mine. Stuff like this. Little things that over time wear down what walls I do have to support myself.
I'm not saying I'm going to kill myself or anything. But I'm really fucking struggling here.
I think ultimately I am lonely? I know I've regressed back into a lot of aspects of my toddler years. I've been yearning for my grandparents more blatantly again. It's like they say where when you're dying your life flashes before your eyes.
Idk. I know there's people who care about me in my life. That I should feel loved. But it's hard sometimes.
I just wish there were people who loved HoD like I do. That I had a community and a family. Not that we were all separated by distance, borders, financial constraints of capitalism.
Sometimes I just hate being alive.
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