#someone please end this pandemic being alone has fucked with my mind so much

[twilightofthe]

writing patterns tag game

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

tagged by @loosingmoreletters thank youuuu but i feel bad i haven’t star warsed on main really since the depression diagnosis which has been a few years so the first 4 fics aren’t even SW ;_; Also i put some of my parts from our collab fics to make me feel better about only having published/updated two (2) solo things within the last couple of years xD

Ok but here goes:

1. It’s just after midnight and Wei Ying is mournfully attempting to wash away his blue balls under the tepid-instead-of-cold shower head.

2. Blacking out after summoning however many the fuck demons who live in your head into the living realm does not always last for long, because blacking out means means you’re retreating inside your head where the demons run amok and they really make shitty company for any extended period of time, so sooner rather than later you end up dragging yourself back to consciousness just to avoid them.

3. The thing about being dead is that it’s a very distinct sensation, putting things if not lightly then the only possible way to put them because how does one explain the feeling of death to someone who has never experienced it before?

4. “Hmm…”

5. After two weeks of traveling at sublight with only the distant, unforgiving stars and his own dwindling sanity for comfort, the far-off, twinkling gem of a planet through the viewport would almost be enough to make Obi-Wan cry if crying didn’t take energy.

6. The first time it happens can be blamed on Anakin’s love of questionable quality holofilms.

7. Whenever Anakin thought about maybe changing his mind on his shift-form, he always reminded himself of the massive amounts of hair over the furniture shed from Obi Wan and Ahsoka alone, and how he was more than happy to not add to it.

8. Considering what had happened the last time he was there, Din Djarin hadn’t planned to set foot in the same star system as Tatooine anytime soon, let alone on the planet itself.

9. Anakin was having a shitty day.

10. Trace doesn’t know how long it had been exactly since Ahsoka left them when the galaxy fell apart.

.

Ok, that’s the past 10! What i realize from them is that firstly, I’m an absolute run-on sentence whore and proud of it lol. Secondly, I internalized WAY too much paranoia about what constitutes a good hook because all of these read like “omg please be drawn in PLEASE be drawn in”. Like they’re not bad, but I can recognize myself and my intentions in my words and I see my eagerness. It’s kind of sweet.

Secondly, I realize that I do really miss Star Wars, but i think a combination of pandemic, a sudden depression diagnosis, and some unpleasant interactions ended up like. Tainting my memories of writing from that era and making it really hard to come back. Plus now I’ve got a newer hyperfixation and i keep reading a bunch of fic for it and stalking people’s tumblr blogs but also doing zero creation of anything to participate. I’ve gotten into some other fandoms in the past two years that make up the first four fics on the list, but even then it’s been hard to publish things that haven’t just been gift fics for my friends, jokes i can take a little less seriously, and collabs that make me less anxious as there’s numbers involved. I really do miss writing though. Like I’m a p decent writer I think, of course I’ve got much to improve, but reading through this and it is NOT as bad as I thought it would be, it’s good! But I wish I hadn’t abandoned so many sw fics, people have been so NICE, and it just feels like I’ve let them down. But I can’t even remember my original ending plans for so much of it and Disney continuing to leech all the joy and energy out of the series hasn’t helped either. But I am still insisting that I’ll be back one day. I will.

#i’ve got like 5/6 unfinished mdzs fics squirreled away on my laptop a few tolkien fics and even a few star wars fics left

[markleebee]

Just saw a TikTok talking about how mark believes in soulmates and is willing to wait however long for that one person

#pain. all i know is pain #I don't know if that's true but it's mark so I wouldn't be surprised at all #they don't make men like that anymore sigh #gonna cry myself to sleep thinking of this #someone please end this pandemic being alone has fucked with my mind so much #I'm usually not this crazy #han spam #watermelon boy 🍉

[ticketstomydaydreams]

HOME

(All We Have: Part One)

Part Two

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson are close friends and he invites you to move in to his house while you work on his record together

Word count: 1,580

Feels: Friendship Fluff for now

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of feeling depressed

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - Home

Sia - Dressed in Black 

The Beatles - With a Little Help from My Friends

A/N: Throughout the series there will be changes to the timing of real life events like the pandemic, the release of certain songs etc. There's certain things I want to incorporate into the series, like particular events in MGKs life and lyrics from songs, so some stuff will get moved around to fit in to the story ✌️

______

It had been a long evening working in Colson’s home studio, The Boulevard, with him and the gang on the upcoming Tickets to my Downfall album. To say your schedule was busy was an understatement, but Colson had insisted you get involved with the new material after the success of your work together on Hotel Diablo.

Composing music was your main gig, you had an ear for melody and your passion for writing meant you always had lyrics swirling around your head. You had a penchant for dark and melancholy lyrics, finding music to be a source of therapy for you. It was something you and Colson had instantly bonded over. He'd bugged you to list some of the stuff you'd written that he'd know and you had gained his professional respect immediately.

He always kept a close eye on your work, ever the supportive friend and had laid claim to your piece ‘Glass House’ as soon as he'd heard it.

______

2019

You were sitting crossed legged on the sofa in your lounge, gently strumming your guitar and gazing off into space and mumbling to yourself, as you worked out some lyrics in your head. Colson was lying on the floor by your feet, scrolling through his phone with earphones in, a blunt in his hand that he occasionally passed up to you. This was a common set up, you found it easier to write in the peace and quiet and Colson has gradually started hanging out at your place more when he needed to focus on his own writing.

"All alone in the glass house, lie awake til the sun's out, pink sky when you come down…"

"Throw me in the damn flames, Bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames…"

You'd started singing out loud, occasionally stopping to scribble down lyrics and make adjustments, not noticing that Colson had removed his earbuds to listen to you

" Dude, that's hard, like, beautiful… " His comment made you jump slightly, you hadn't seen him propping himself up on his elbows, watching you intently "Sing that last bit again"

You blushed slightly, his opinion was always important to you, and started singing. He muttered to himself as you did, then pointed at you "Again!"

Letting out a little laugh and rolling your eyes, you sang again

"Throw me in the damn flames, bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames"

Colson's voice met yours at the end of the line, rapping softly "I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away"

You locked eyes, smiling and he sat upright. "Dude, Im'a need that hook! That spoke to me right there, I've think got something for it that I've been stuck on"

He looked so excited, your heart did a little flip. You'd seen that writing this album had taken it out of him, he'd been digging deep and really going through it emotionally. You could tell it was going to be raw and special from what you'd heard already.

He sat forward and moved the guitar from your lap so he could lean his arms on your knees and looked up at you shooting you puppy dog eyes with those baby blues "Pretty please Y/N"

You laughed and ruffled his hair, "Anything for you Col" Honestly, it'd be an honour to be part of such a personal project, you thought

He wrapped his arms round you and squeezed,

"You're a legend, kid. Get a sample recorded and send it to me!" He grabbed your guitar off the sofa and whipped back around, strumming a few chords as he carried on talking with his back to you, leaning against the sofa "This is gonna be fire, you always just hit the nail on the head, I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes"

You smiled, seeing the wave of motivation that had struck your friend. You felt so lucky to have a friend who was not only so inspiring, but one who 'got it', who understood that music was a form of release. Someone who recognised that it was important to feel these things, rather than encourage you to push dark thoughts away with toxic positivity.

He’d pushed to use your original samples on his record, but as much as you loved writing and singing, you were a behind the scenes kind of gal which had always suited you just fine. Naomi, a mutual friend of you both, came onboard to record them with him. A decision that turned out to be golden… 'Death in my Pocket' would be born not long after, with Naomi doing your lyrics such beautiful justice yet again, perfectly pairing with Colson's emotional rapping.

______

From then on Colson had kept you close to his recording. You'd been helping here and there with composition and notation, but your production skills were what was taking centre stage during the most recent sessions. You had a long list of projects you were working through, leaving you chained to your equipment most days and nights anyway so throwing more music into your workload didn't seem like much of a big deal. In all honesty, the chaos of Colson’s studio and the revolving door of personalities that were in and out constantly, made it one of the most fun places to be. You loved what you did for a living and it never really felt like work Even though the guys were a real handful at times, you kind of enjoyed being the studio 'Mami' as they often affectionately referred to you

Everything had wrapped up for the evening and the guys had migrated back into the house. You could hear from the raucous that the drinks must have started flowing freely. You were saving your work and packing up your stuff when Colson bursts back into the studio and throws himself in a chair, spinning it around with his arms in the air.

"You staying for drinks Y/N?" he grins at you, clearly hyper and in party mode

You let out a big sigh "Urgh, I'd love to but I have an early start tomorrow. I finally managed to get an apartment viewing. I swear I've looked at a hundred places now, they get snapped up so quickly.. I've only got a few weeks left on my lease as well"

“Ah, that sucks kid” Colson empathises, spinning his chair again before an idea strikes him “Wait! Why don’t you move in here for a bit until you find a place? The guest room is pretty much your room anyway, the amount you crash here”

You laugh “This is true, that mattress is so much better than mine! Aw Col, that would honestly be so helpful, the stress of finding a place when I’m this busy is killing me. I don't know… You sure the guys won’t mind?”

Colson scoffs “Why would they mind? You practically live here anyway” he teases “I’m sure they’ll be just as stoked as I am at the thought of you joining the madhouse for a while”

Before you have a chance to respond, he stands up and throws his arms around you, squashing you into him tightly “That’s it decided Roomie. Another song in the bag and a new housemate, plenty to celebrate tonight!”

Wriggling out of his tight grasp, you laugh and in a deep voice shout “let’s goooooo” mocking his signature catchphrase. He flips you his middle finger and says “Kitchen, now”

Once you’re in the kitchen, Colson heads to get you a drink and grabs one himself. Appearing back at your side, he passes you your beer and then shouts out to the rest of the group,

“YO, meet our latest housemate, Y/N is moving in. LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO”

Everyone in the kitchen lets out a big cheer, clearly pleased as he said they would be. Colson bends down and picks you up, swinging you around in a circle, spilling your drinks all over the both of you as you shout his name in mock annoyance, between giggles.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for” Rook laughs, clinking his drink against your now empty beer bottle once your feet are back on the floor

“It’ll be good to have another pair of hands around here, looking after you lot” Ashleigh chimes in, laughing and slapping Slim away as he pulls her hood up over her head, covering her eyes

It had been 5 years since you'd made the decision to move to LA, barely knowing a soul. You'd worked several jobs, jumped from place to place, worked your ass off to catch your break in the music business, sometimes feeling like the grind would never get you anywhere.

There had been times where you felt like you couldn't carry on, aching from trying to keep pace. The dream had felt like it was turning into a nightmare, as you tried to make ends meet, feeling so lonely in this enormous city.. but eventually you'd made these amazing friends who made you feel so safe and loved.

Now, there were times you had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was all real.

As you shake off some of the beer that's dripping from your hands, you look around the kitchen. Taking in the crazy, loveable bunch before you, your new housemates, you are filled with gratitude. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be…

Home.

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❌❌ Lace up!

#mgk fluff #colson baker x reader #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson x reader #mgk fic #machine gun kelly #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #mgk fanfiction #colson baker

[creatingnikki]

What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out. 

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices. 

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make. 

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it! 

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up. 

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday. 

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same. 

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people. 

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful. 

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away. 

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you. 

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs. 

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight. 

#what i learned in 2020 #poeticstories #writerscreed #poetryportal #inkstay #writtenconsiderations #flowerais #wnq writers #shareaquote #note to self #things to learn #things to remember #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #words to live by #books and libraries #self realisation #self reflection #year end reflection #year end review #end of the year #new year new me #New Year Resolutions #Career choices #vincent van gogh #sylvia plath #2020 #creatingnikki

[neonnoir-ao3]

Some Words of Comfort.

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of people (especially those who have read spoilers/are actively searching for leaked content) lament about their future reactions to the deaths of our beloved characters in-game.

We all knew this was inevitable, and that them living was not an option for the plot of the game, but the time has finally come to face it head-on.

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I understand that someone outside this community might be like “it’s just a game”, but I know it’s way more than that to many: the concept of a female villain that, to many, can be seen as sympathizable and even endearing, is a bit of a new concept— especially on such a large scale as this instance.

In addition, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters have become a bit of a comfort item for some (with an emphasis on sapphics/wlw, from what I’ve seen personally) in the form of a large, protective, and caring hypothetical partner, or even just a maternal character one can appreciate simply because of her love for her children. Regardless, most of us are here due to some desire for comfort.

Take my own story with this community, for example:

(tws for death, covid, suicide, and general medical emergencies)

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Frankly, 2020 and the beginning of 2021 have ruined me. I lost two men who were the only two positive father figures I’ve ever had. The last of the two tested positive for covid and deteriorated within days, to the point where less than a week after testing positive, my family was making the choice to pull the plug. This all occurred days before Christmas and my birthday. On the first day of the spring semester, having not had the time to properly mourn my grandfather, my mother is in the ER for multiple days with an internal infection that doctors said likely would have turned septic if she had waited to come in any longer. This led to three surgeries throughout the next few months. (Oh, and one of my relatives quite literally dropped dead on that first day of class, too). I am also estranged from one of my parents, and they have been trying to contact my family: they have multiple untreated mental illnesses (severe NPD, bipolar, and more) and they are extremely aggressive in that state of mind and they are agitated extremely easily. That only brings more stress, along with resurfacing trauma and related emotions. Every moment of every day has been a struggle. So much so that I failed half of my classes voluntarily simply because I couldn't do them anymore.

To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t expect to be here right now. I expected that the pain of simply moving forward would have finally overridden my fears of death and that I would have already ended my suffering by now.

Then, in late January, I saw something trending on Twitter. About a new female villain in an upcoming horror game. And it went from there.

As cheesy as it sounds, this fandom and its content seriously saved my life. In the darkest of days, I’ve come to this tag for comfort. The oddest way I found said comfort was through those who were attracted to Alcina aesthetically. I have extremely long-term trauma related to being bullied and being the victim of a hybrid catfishing/'Oreo Game' on early social media by peers in middle school to the point where I do not think of myself as being able to be loved, let alone being worthy of it. Finding this community not only provided a great form of escapism (and opened a door into a fantasy world where I could imagine my own person vampire milf gf), but also gained a little bit of self-esteem (as many of you know, I share a lot of visual qualities with Alcina. -yes, I'm still kinda freaked out about it-) via seeing people where features/attributes like mine were actively praised and desired rather than insulted and pushed away like they have been until now.

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(okay sorry that kinda turned into a trauma dump but I needed to emphasize the fact that this community has seriously helped me during a really dark point in my life, and I know I can't be the only one with that sort of experience)

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What I’m trying to get across here is that, like many others, this community and its content have been comforting and therapeutic, and it really is more than just a game to us. It’s entertaining and even a form of escapism in these extremely trying times. We all have some degree of PTSD from surviving a literal mass plague— and this is something we're using as a method of coping. a distraction. a coping mechanism.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With that being said, here are some ways to hopefully assist in lessening the emotional stress:

(please note that I am not a mental health professional and these may not be healthy coping mechanisms for everyone.)

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Understand that it’s just a game.

I know, this sounds completely counterintuitive, but it’s more or less about keeping your level of immersion down. Personally, I can’t do scary shit in general: I have to listen to music on low volume while watching dark ARG vids at night or when I’m alone because I get too into it, and then my paranoia kicks in. Sometimes just pausing for a moment and grounding yourself/reminding yourself that this is a video game: a jumble of code and 3D rendering that doesn’t have to affect your views/headcanons if you don’t want it to. Did your favorite character just get slaughtered? Nope, that 3D rendering of them just got un-alived, that’s all.

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Ignorance is Bliss/We are the Captain Now

Simple: Capcom can’t even pronounce Dimitrescu right, or even acknowledge the way it’s correctly said in Romanian culture itself. How can you trust them to give you a perfect canon? That’s the thing: with that logic, you can’t. What they say is true means little (if anything, for that matter) to your headcanons and preexisting ideas of the Dimitrescus. In short: fuck ‘em.

I’m currently seeking a double major in pop culture, and one of the cool things I’ve learned so far is affirmational vs transformational fandom. Affirmational is where official canon is seen as the law of the land, and followed to a T. Transformational is seen as much more inviting for audiences, allowing them to bend canon as they wish to fit their own creations. This fandom is obviously transformational, so take that game canon, rip it up, and get back to whatever you were doing.

Capcom’s canon is not the end-all, be-all. Far from it, actually.

Want to still acknowledge canon? Godmod your way out of it.

Character A died? It’d be a shame if they emerged from the rubble they 'died in' a few hours later, very beaten but alive nonetheless... how awful would it be if they sulked away, nursed their wounds, and continued to live... (/s)

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Ignore it completely.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there w be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the in any way. Stay with the version in your head that makes you happy.

Get Creative!

If you're into creating fanart, writing fics, or even just posting a list of headcanons, take some advice from the late Carrie Fisher: "Take your broken heart, and make it into art". Make the fluff oneshot of your dreams! Draw the fanart you've been wanting to! dump lighthearted headcanons into the tags! Not only will it cheer you up, but sharing it with the community will spread the love!

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I know a lot of people are struggling with this emotionally (especially with the pandemic making entertainment like this even more important sources of escapism and coping mechanisms) and I hope that, at the very least, I was able to help comfort one person who reads this.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there will be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the flowers that bloom after major wildfires: after a period of loss, some beautiful can still come of it.

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#tall vampire lady #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #castle dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #dimitrescu daughters #dimitrescu family #dimitrescu sisters #cassandra dimitrescu #countess dimitrescu #house dimitrescu #resident evil #re: village #resident evil village #resident evil: village

[theonewiththefanfics]

Please Don’t Leave (one-shot)

Synopsis: After a night spent together, the Reader wakes up wrapped in the arms of the man she loves. Only problem is - they live two different lives, and she barely has a place in it as a best friend. 

Paring: Harry Styles x f!Reader

Genre: angst, but with a fluffy ending (also kind of an AU since being at a party is mentioned, but if you’re out there and partying (aka not following YOUR LOCAL HEALTH GUIDELINES) wear a damn mask!) - please keep up with what the health professionals are saying, and stay safe. If you’re at a place where you can safely go out and have fun in large crowds - please do so, but with caution. If not - WEAR A DAMN MASK AND WASH YOUR HANDS.

Warnings: anxiety, angsty, think that’s about it. if there’s anything, please let me know :)

Word count: 2283

Waking up in the arms of the person you love should be the most blissful thing in the world. It should quell your racing heart after a nightmare, and speed it up as you open your eyes to see the one who's holding you so tight. But when that person is your best friend, the best friend you’ve had for the past half-decade, the best friend whom you’ve had unsaid feelings for the past three years – that will set your heart racing and not in a good way.

        As Y/N blinked her Y/E/C eyes open, she felt safe. Probably the safest she’d ever felt and all thanks to the man lying next to her. The tattoos covering his chest she’d memorised by heart, had traced their black outlines more times than she could count, and at the start of the pandemic, when the first wave of emotional exhaustion had hit, he’d allowed her to colour them in, to bring some sort of vibrance in the gloomy-looking life. Now, however, seeing the gorgeous butterfly right in her eye-line made Y/N want to disappear into the ground.

A shuddering breath escaped Y/N as she realised more and more of the situation. They were spooned together, chest to chest, without a single inch left between them, and without any clothes to separate them either. 

        She’d never been the friends-with-benefits kind of a person. Sure, she’d had her fair share of one-night-stands, where both parties enjoyed themselves and then amicably split to never see one another again. But with Harry, leaving and basically ghosting him wasn’t an option. 

        Harry shifted a bit, and the arm he had under her bare waist tightened, pulling her in, and his lips pressed against her forehead. For a moment, she thought it was just him stirring in his sleep, but when she felt pressure against her skin, when she felt his mouth start to skim down to her temple, a small grin accompanying the kisses, Y/N knew he was awake. And unfortunately, she’d have to face the music, rather than what she’d hoped of untangling herself from Harry, grabbing her things and running for the hills.

        “ ‘G morning, lovie,” he muttered, his voice gruff from the sleep, and as Y/N recalled, moans of her name. “How ya feelin’?”

        Y/N had to clear her throat, and she nodded. “Good.” The word was quiet. “A bit sore, but I uh, slept well. Uh, you?”

        “ ‘M good.” Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “ ‘M great actually.”

        “Yeah?”

        “Yeah.” Y/N could feel the grin slowly expand across his face while she gulped.

        “Well, uh,” she started. “I uh, I guess I’ll get going.”

        That made him pull back, and she took it as her opportunity to flip around and slip out of Harry’s hold and the bed. 

        The bedsheet revealed her naked back to him where two large bruises in the shape of his palms had started to make themselves present. Much like on his own back, Y/N had nail marks all across it from when she’d been on top of him, and Harry had needed her closer, had been desperate to have her pressed to him and to keep her there as he fell apart. 

        “You don’t have to, you know.” He let out a nervous chuckle, as Y/N leaned down and grabbed her discarded black thong. Most of the night was a blur for him, but he hadn’t been that inebriated that he had no control over himself and couldn’t understand what consent was. And well, neither had Y/N. 

        The alcohol had most definitely loosened them up, but it had also wiped away the fear of rejection. She’d been the one to make the first move. Standing alone on a penthouse balcony, cold winds sweeping past her frame was when she’d decided hiding her true feelings would only bring more pain.

        And then he’d walked out, covered in a glitter suit with a ruffled white blouse underneath, almost like the disco ball they'd been dancing under a few minutes before. He'd pulled Y/N to him. They’d looked at one another, and she was the one who pressed her lips against his. Without even waiting for a second, he'd responded with the same passion.

        It’d taken them barely a minute to get out of the party and make their way to Harry’s place. Five more minutes and both of them were naked and on top of one another, underneath one another and in every imaginable position. 

But as much as the alcohol had taken away every fear she’d had about being with Harry, the dawn had brought a clarity to the situation. And as painful of a clarity it was for Y/N, it was undeniable. 

        “I think I do, Haz. I – this –...” She gulped. “This was a mistake. We should’ve never slept together.”

        She could feel the cold creep over them. “What do you mean?” His voice was small. She'd never heard him like that.

        “I mean, we were drunk, Harry.” Y/N didn’t dare look back at the man as she stood up, arm over her chest, as her eyes scanned the beige carpet for her bra and the dress, she’d worn the night before. “We were drunk and made a mistake. This shouldn’t have happened. So, I think I’ll be the one to bite the bullet, and not have us have an awkward breakfast, and go.”

        When there was no response from Harry, Y/N took it as confirmation that she was right, that what had happened the night before was just an alcohol-induced mistake, so on wobbly legs, she grabbed the black lace bra, clasped it behind her, the navy dress a messy pile on the floor as she pretty much b-lined for it. 

        She was right by the door, one of the nine-inch heels that had been killing her feet throughout the party in hand when a suppressed sob made her stop.

        “Please don’t,” he practically choked out, and that made Y/N whip around, seeing his chest rattle as he attempted to take in a breath. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t – I – I”

        “Fuck, Harry,” she dropped her dress and the shoe and climbed into his lap, hands against his cheeks, and eyes never leaving his frantic green ones. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me.”

        There’d been a couple of times she’d have to help him through an anxiety attack, so Y/N was aware of what helped him – pressing his palm to her chest and her own against his. “Focus on me,” she said in a firm voice. “Focus on my heartbeat and how I’m breathing.”

        “I can’t –.” He was still heaving, but with every second she was there with him, it evened out. “Please don’t leave me.”

        “I’m not leaving. I could never leave you.” She shushed him, feeling hot tears splash against her collarbone, as Harry hid face against her neck, and gripped onto her sides with such vigour, she was sure if she had a shirt on, it would rip. “I’m still here, I’ll always be here when you need me. But this was a mistake. Harry, we should’ve never slept together. Not like that.”

        “Why?” His hands were gentle as he cupped her cheeks and brought their gaze to meet. “Why was it so wrong for us to do that? Why shouldn’t it have happened? Give me one solid, one good reason why.”

        “Because we’re best friends.” Y/N leaned into his touch. “And best friends don’t do that.”

        “They do if they have feelings that are more than friendly.”

        Y/N sighed. “Harry…”

        “I love you… and I know you love me too. I’m not blind, Y/N. I can see the way you look at me, and I know what it means because I look at you the same way."

        “I know... but the thing is, I don’t fit in your world. Not like that.”

        When she chuckled and spoke, there was no malice behind those words. She was just stating facts, but Harry couldn’t help how his heart clenched in guilt and pain. “You’ve been hiding me as your friend for years now, and I understand why, and I love you for it. So much. You’ve always cared about me, and how your lifestyle affects the people around you… but if I’m with someone… I don’t wanna hide. I don’t wanna be a secret or our love to be a secret. I want to hold their hand.” Y/N took his right hand and weaved their fingers together. “And I don’t wanna be afraid of what people might say about it. I wanna be able to love the person freely… I’d wanna love you freely…”

        “Then I’ll quit,” he immediately announced, making Y/N’s eyes widen as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, an almost manic smile on his face. “I’ll quit. Fuck all of it, if it gives us a chan-“

        “No.” She vehemently shook her head pulling away and pressing her palm against his chest. “Harry are you completely out of your mind? You can’t just quit ev – everything!”

        He scoffed. “Of course, I can. It’s my job, innit? I can choose when to do it and when not.”

        “But – no – Harry, hold on a bit. That’s a bit rash. Besides, I’m not letting you just up and throw away everything you’ve worked for.”

        “I’m not though.” His smile was so wide, Y/N couldn’t comprehend how this talk could be making him happy. “I’ve been reaping the fruits of all that hard work for years now, lovie. I have enough to keep me going, Mum and Gems and whatever future family I have for decades to come.”

        “Yes, but have you done everything you’ve wanted?”

        “Well, no bu – “

        “But nothing,” Y/N interrupted him. “Harry, you’re in the middle of shooting a movie, your music career is at an all-time high, and who knows how high it could go. You have a Disney, a fucking Disney movie lined up. And don’t get me started on Marvel. You can’t just quit all that now because you’ve got a crush or something.”

        “It’s not a crush.”

        Y/N smiled a bit. “Give it time, and it’ll go away.”

        “Hasn’t left me for the past two years, and now, especially now, I don’t think it’ll disappear that easily. Has it for you?”

        Fuck. She hated when Harry was right. “No.” She shook her head. “It hasn’t.”

        “Then where does this leave us?”

        “I don’t know,” Y/N whispered, eyes on her fingers as she skimmed his collarbones and the two swallows below them. “I really don’t know.”

        “I can’t stay friends with you,” Harry murmured, “because every time I’ll look at you, I’ll know we could’ve been so much more.”

        “But we can’t be together either. Not the way we should be.”

        “What if we…” Harry gulped, straightening out a bit, but never letting the soothing motions against Y/N’s back end as he allowed his free hand to explore her back. “What if we set up some rules?”

        Her brows furrowed as she pulled back and tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

        “Like… what if we didn’t have to hide? If we went out on dates, or with friends, we didn’t have to keep us a secret? We could kiss, and hold our hands, and be a normal couple, but in interviews, in all of the publicity shit I’d have to do, I don’t talk about you. I – I let them know, that I have an amazing girlfriend, the most beautiful and supporting girlfriend a person could have.” He chuckled, and Y/N couldn’t help herself but mimic it. “But I don’t talk about anything you don’t want me to.”

        “Meaning?”

        “Meaning you set whatever boundaries you want for me. Tell me what you’d want them to know, if anything at all, and I’ll only mention those things. We go at your pace and however far you want. The rest is just for us and no one else.”

        “ ‘N what about the paps? The gossip magazines and rumours and hate that’ll come?”

        “I – I can’t control that, I swear if I could, I would, and I hate it’s out of my control –“

        “Harry.” Y/N interrupted him before he could start spiralling again. “I’m not blaming you for any of it, I’m just saying what would happen. We’ve both seen it too many times. I’m just not sure I can handle it.”

        “You shouldn’t, fuck, you shouldn’t even be saying that – thinking that – but I promise, I’ll try, I swear I’ll try and make it as easy as possible for you. And I know if we try this it’s going to be the furthest from normal, you have no idea, how badly I want to make it as normal as possible for you, but please just… just give us a chance. I know we could be so happy, so fucking happy together… just give us a chance… give me a chance.”

It was electric, the way his hands skimmed over her sides. Not the painful kind of electricity you sometimes get zapped by a car door or when you touch a balloon, but a buzzing kind, that set each and every nerve alive, brought it out of the terrifying numbness that was rejection and fear, and pulled them into the loving light of acceptance.

“I mean, it’s always been us, hasn’t it?” Y/N muttered letting her lips flutter over his. 

“Yeah,” Harry whispered back. “It has.”

“Then let’s be us forever?”

Harry’s smile was more blinding than the golden light which erupted into the room, bathing them in liquid flames and warming up not only their bodies but their souls. 

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: hey! so I know I’ve been gone for a while, and most likely will be for quite a bit and will be only posting og stuff sporadically. I’m dealing with a death in the family, so I’m only writing when I’m inspired. right now music is what’s inspiring me, so if you’re here for someone else, please message me and I’ll put you on a specific tag list. I won’t take it personally, I promise :D 

Not saying that to gain sympathy, it’s just how it is rn. I still have plans to finish all the series I’ve started (even Hawkins’ Charm), it’s just that I needed to write something else for a bit.

This is definitely not my best work, but I still wanted to share it, as I hope this will make me get back into the groove of things. 

Hope everyone is staying safe :)

P.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list message me :) tags are always open. 

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry :(

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #one direction #one direction imagine #1d #1d fan fiction #golden #fine line #watermelon sugar #harry styles vogue #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic

[barzzal]

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night. 

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve. 

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay. 

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin. 

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath? 

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you. 

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila. 

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along. 

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

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It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays. 

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended. 

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth. 

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time. 

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way. 

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city. 

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for. 

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar. 

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her. 

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug. 

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with. 

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second. 

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone? 

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation. 

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl. 

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line. 

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat. 

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.” 

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” 

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.” 

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?” 

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.” 

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?” 

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well. 

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.” 

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin. 

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.” 

“Exactly.” 

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers. 

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.” 

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you. 

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.” 

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind. 

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.” 

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone. 

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?” 

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys. 

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly. 

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him. 

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him. 

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you. 

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin. 

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab. 

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.” 

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make. 

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?” 

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers. 

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at. 

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach. 

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window. 

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.” 

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind. 

“Come on, I know where we should go.” 

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career. 

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night. 

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point. 

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm. 

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze. 

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.” 

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him. 

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble. 

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.” 

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence. 

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did. 

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago. 

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds. 

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.” 

“A crappy one, of course.” You add. 

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.” 

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays. 

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was. 

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year. 

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play. 

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly. 

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.” 

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment. 

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. 

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion. 

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured. 

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years. 

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so. 

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat. 

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard. 

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause. 

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night. 

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice. 

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

[namixart]

So. Sorry for vagueposting but rant under read more because I'm livid.

So. You may have seen my awesome new tattoo. It's great, I love it and it makes me super happy. If you haven't seen it, it's a tattoo of Cloud's Buster Sword covered in Aerith's flowers. The reasoning behind it, as I mentioned in my original post, is that 2020 wasn't really a fun year for anyone. Me? I got through it relatively unscathed, and a lot of it I credit to FFVIIR coming out and working on Wildflowers. I genuinely love it and I'm always excited to share more and more with you guys! I also spent most of the year gushing about the game and the characters to anyone who'd listen, and I don't feel like it's a stretch to say that if not for FFVIIR and Wildflowers I'd be in a much worse place right now, mental health wise. More specifically than just FFVII, it's been thanks to Cloud and Aerith. They're my favourite characters in the game (together AND separately) and honestly probably my favourite characters ever. Period. They're both absolutely comfort characters for me and I break out in a huge smile whenever they're so much as brought up. So, I decided to get a tattoo representing them. Because I wouldn't be doing as well as I am now if not for them. Again, both together and separately. As I mentioned in the caption of the photo I posted of my tattoo.

Now, tonight I got a notification: "[username] reblogged your post!" So, obviously, I went to check it out! Everyone has been absolutely lovely on that post--a lot of compliments and excitement RE: the tattoo--and I wanted to see if there was more of that. There was not. No, what I found in the reblog was [username] very smugly asking me what I would tell people "when C/T end up together again in remake" and I look like an idiot for getting a C/A tattoo. Would I tell them the remake retconned canon? Or would I lie and say it's a Z/A tattoo?

So, they obviously got blocked faster than the speed of light and they deserve none of my or anyone else's attention, but I just kinda need to rant, because hey, none of this is okay! First of all, there was nothing in that post or the tags talking about C/T or just T (don't want this showing up in their tags, I'm not an animal). The tattoo has nothing to do with C/T (or Z/A for that matter), and I did not feel the need to be snippy or talk about the LTD at all. For that matter, even if I did tag it as C/A, it's not really even just a shipping tattoo. First and foremost, it's about Cloud and Aerith in their capacity as my favourite FFVII characters, my comfort characters and the fact that they helped me get through 2020 and the first half of 2021. Do I ship C/A? Yes, obviously. But I'm not yet so deranged that that would be enough to get a tattoo. No, this was about the game and the characters. At any rate, the fact that I didn't tag it as C/T and that they still found the post means that they went snooping through the C/A tag to find it, presumably to get mad and be mean at strangers on the internet just trying to exist in peace. Which is bad enough. [username], if you're out there (and you're not, because blocked), please do all of us a favour and get a life.

Secondly, and most importantly, [username] missed something that's very obvious to somebody with basic reading comprehension skills (I know this is Tumblr but come on). The mental health thing. Now, I don't know where I would be if FFVIIR and Wildflowers hadn't happened at the time that they did, but I'd be in much worse shape. This story and these characters were consistently a huge comfort and escape for me for over a year and a half, and that's the reason I got a tattoo. So, [username] looked at a post of me being happy about my tattoo because it brings me joy and represents characters who bring me joy and got me through a goddamn global pandemic and went "That's nice," and proceeded to spit out whatever verbal garbage came to mind. This is the part that infuriates me. I'm not hurt, I'm not heartbroken, I don't care. But this sort of behaviour is disgusting. I'd be equally livid if I saw it happen to somebody else. Guess what you don't get to do? Shit on people's happiness and intrude like this. For all they know, I could've been in a much worse state than I was--did they ever think about that? That's the part that gets me. Like, who are you to come onto my post, take it way too seriously and be mean about something that represents my coping mechanism? Disgusting. I hope they know that every single character they mentioned, especially their beloved T, would be disgusted with them.

And even if none of this was the case, even if I did go off the deep end and get a tattoo because ooohh cute ship, even if I didn't have any mental health issues associated with it--even if all of that. They still thought it was appropriate to take a post of someone just trying to share a tattoo that they loved and be rude and mean-spirited and smug on it. While specifically looking through the C/A tags too, let's not forget that sad cherry on this pathetic sundae. What kind of person do you have to be, to act like this and think you're in the right? This is the most sincere "Get a life" I've ever said, Jesus Christ. Guess what? Shipping isn't that big of a deal! I know, radical. You know what is a big deal? Assholes like this trying to make everyone else's lives worse for... reasons? Kicks? I genuinely can't fathom the thought process you'd have to go through to end up at "I'll be mean to this person I've never met who's just having fun and being happy. Serves them right." I just... I'm upset. Not for myself (I truly do not care about one internet troll), but just in general that this kind of people exist. Vile. Get a life, and I'll go show my tattoo to people whose opinion I actually care about.

And, for the record, if FFVIIR does end with canon C/T (which, honestly, I really don't think it will resolve the LTD at all), I'd just still tell people that the tattoo was never meant to be, like, some deranged "I SUPPORT THIS SHIP AND I WANT IT CANON OR I'LL LIGHT MYSELF ON FIRE" thing. It is, and always was, meant to represent two of my favourite characters who helped me through a really rough spot. Simple as that.

Also they got an ask from someone congratulating them on "putting toxic C/As in their places" I'm gonna fucking piss myself. Go eat a bag of dicks, fuckhead, and leave me alone.

#woof sorry this got long #i just needed to vent #in conclusion: fuck the ltd and all the idiots coming out of the woodwork to be assholes #i'm just trying to have fun with my tattoo my dude i do not care about your smug self important meanness #negative #personal #long post #rant #untagged because of course

[dizexplainstheuniverse]

Give up hope.

If the past 2 years have taught me anything, it’s the art of giving up hope.

It’s about a human as it gets to dream, to wish, to imagine, to long for, to crave, to seek after something or someone to fulfil our wants, needs and desires.

Now, I fully believe in following the path of desire. I have absolutely no interest in sitting here and telling you I’m a desire-less puritan – quite the opposite. I’m full of unmet needs and aching yearnings.

However, I am going to try and communicate with you the importance of giving up hope...

Giving up hope doesn’t mean becoming hopeless, or admitting defeat, or becoming a lost cause.

Not at all.

What I’m talking about is giving up hope as an act of surrender.

So long as we hope, we project outwards onto the world, onto others, and unknowingly give our power away to ideas, concepts, and people. We make them, the other, something or someone outside of ourselves and outside of our control responsible for our individual happiness...

Let’s take a look at one very relatable example:

So, like many of us, I spent much of my time at the beginning of 2020 ‘hoping’ that the pandemic would all be over in a few weeks. I begged and bargained with the powers that be to make my lockdown misery end and clung desperately to hope. We all know this story too well…

Did it end?

Did it fuck.

Every few weeks ‘they’ would announce yet another indeterminable amount of time stuck in the prisons we called home.

My dreams of freedom were crushed, over and over again, until eventually – I gave up hope.

I remember thinking, “alright, I get it, screw this, I give up…” and I surrendered to the now. I stopped trying to fight reality with the idea of freedom I had constructed inside my mind in order to try and cope with the current situation.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve done this in my relationships (I’m the fucking Queen of projection - such a powerful imagination… ).

I was either too busy clinging to a version of a person I was hoping they’d turn out to be – or clinging to a situation, scenario or concept of what I hoped relationships could be like – to see what was right in front of me all along.

The grass was ALWAYS greener, or at least I hoped it would be…

The trouble with perpetual un-fulfilment, AKA addiction, AKA the human condition, is that we’re so damn distracted looking for the cure to our pain, hoping it’ll be in the next dopamine hit, that we are literally blind to the abundant nature of reality screaming out for our attention.

There’s a saying, right: “you wouldn’t know it, even if it hit you the face…”

When it comes to love, this has certainly been true for me.

Not only are we blinded by our past conditioning and traumas, but even when we begin to see the love, joy, pleasure, freedom, safety or belonging that’s right in front of us, we’re so fucking terrified to receive it and let it in that we subconsciously sabotage, resist, deny, reject and continue to fulfil the age-old narrative that “we’re just not good enough” or “we don’t deserve it” … or, if you’ve got an extra sneaky-smart psyche “it’s just not good enough for me!” … and off we go again, demanding more, more, more…

Of all the things, situations, and people, I’ve hoped for in my life, the moment I gave up hope and surrendered to the pain of my reality, that’s where true liberation was found.

The trouble is, we aren’t all well equipped or ready to fully feel the depths of the pain that giving up hope brings. It’s scary AF. Especially if we can’t yet see what’s right in front of us. So instead, we fight, we run, we freeze, we appease. We spend every waking moment of our lives looking for the next get-out of feeling the pain from our past.

There’s that other saying: “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone” - classic. I bet you can relate to that one as well.

It was painful for me to give up on my hopes in relationships. So painful, that I’ve often stayed in alternatively slightly less painful relationships, substituting one pain for another, because facing the pain underneath of the thing I was masking was deeply terrifying – like, chilled-me-to-the-core kind of terrifying. So much so, my mind had created all sorts of elaborate tales about my unworthiness and lack of deservingness to protect me from experiencing that kind of pain ever again. And the masochist in me was indeed thriving.

It was too painful to give up hope, I needed it. I dug my claws in and I refused to let go. Because giving up hope, surrendering to what is real and present right now, meant having to acknowledge and grieve what I was never given but rightfully deserved. We’re talking, of course, about childhood wounds. The pain of that betrayal, the loss of love, care and nurturing from the adults in my life that were ‘supposed’ to care about me was truly heart breaking. Not only this, I felt just as terrified to receive it. I could not trust it that it would not come at a cost of more pain and suffering – just in another form – so why risk it?

I didn’t want to be alone - I couldn’t bare re-experiencing the pain of my loneliness and isolation. I didn’t want to be close - I couldn’t bare re-experiencing the pain of risking abandonment, rejection and neglect.

Oh, my sweet, agonising, disorganised attachment injury. Forever caught in a double-bind. “Can’t live with it, can’t live without it” – there’s another one for ya.

Truly, the only invitation I have for you here if you relate at all to these experiences, is please – give up hope.

Gently, slowly, with compassion and acceptance, feel your pain.

Hold yourself tenderly, allow your heart to break open. Soften your breath, your body, feel your feet on the ground. Release your tears, cry, scream, wail, rage, punch, roar – drop deep into the depths of your pain with such loving awareness for the universal experience of how painful it is to be a human being on this tortured planet.

You are not alone.

For I assure you, what awaits the other side is a freedom, a bliss, an ecstasy more real than any hope.

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#hope #trauma #pain #unfelt #feeling #emotions #feeling the unfelt #healing #self development #personal development #personal growth #carl jung #recovery #trauma healing #attachement theory #childhood wounds #bliss #ecstasy #freedom #liberation #disorganised attachment #ptsd #ptsd recovery #heartbreak #relationships #love #loving awareness #emotion embodiment #embodiment #empowerment

[inkykeiji]

hi clari!

this is my first ask/message here basically a new reader , i started reading your works about a week or 2 ago i have no clue i literally have no sense of time now i barely even go out ( social anxiety oof ) and this pandemic  gave me more reasons to sleep in :>

ive read way too many fics from other fandoms basically 800+ fics and with all of them being normal ones and only a hand full were fantasy like omegaverse magic au royal au etc. after coming to tumblr and figuring out and accepting  my twisted and dark desires i guess now i cant stop cause everything else has become way too boring

i literally binged reading all your touya nii works that i never knew i neede and now thats all in my mind along with your other works tbh i guess now it has become so comforting its just... unexplainable. personally im a person who feels emotions way too strongly and your works? god they throw me off my feet and literally give me a whiplash and i love that

you made me feel emotions so quickly the way they switched god..

OKAY THIS HAS BECOME WAY TOO LONG SO I WOUL LIKE TO END IT SAYING YOU ARE DOING SO AMAZING YOUR WORKS AND YOU HAVE A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART I HOPE EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT AND WILL GO BEAUTIFULLY FOR YOU♡

🌙 anon♡

(or if thats taken then ❄)

AH HELLO <333 omg welcome!!!! i’m so glad to have you here!! <333

i feel you with the whole social anxiety + barely going out thing ._. it fucking sucks. i barely went out BEFORE the pandemic lmao now i don’t even know how to be in a group of like,, more than three people :/ it’s awful.

AW ANON BB <33333 oh thank you so much for your kind words, they mean a lot to me and i genuinely appreciate them <33 no no i totally understand you, touya-nii is very comforting for me and many others as well!!! for me he’s become a serious trauma outlet, so writing him just makes me feel better and further helps me work though all of that, but you’re absolutely not alone in feeling that way!! <333

THROW YOU OFF YOUR FEET MY GOODNESS AHAHAHA omg please please be safe (emotionally) while reading my work, okay??? i don’t want anything to hit you too hard!!! at the same time, i am so flattered to hear that you feel the emotion throughout my work so strongly, and that it pulls such a reaction from you!! <3 i, too, am someone who feels things way way waaaay too strongly, so i understand where you’re coming from!

aaaah thank you so so much sweetpea!!!! you are absolutely lovely and i am so lucky and happy to have you here with me!! <333 i hope my works will continue to bring you entertainment or joy (but again pls be safe omg) <3

also!!! all of those emojis are free!! out of those five, is there a particular one you’re fond of, or would you like me to pick??? <3

#YOU'RE SO SWEET HEHEHE WELCOME WELCOME <333 #ILY #this was such a lovely message aaaah thank you bb thank you so much 🥺🥺 #but also!!!! welcome to the anon club!! 🥳🥳 #let me know which one u wanna snatch up and i'll add you to the list!!! #genuinely so happy to have u here <3 #have a fantastic weekend and be safe!!!! #inky.bb #clari gets mail

[norcalbruja]

Things are not ideal for me right now

What’s up, so I had yet another argument with my mom today. I had to go lie down and vent about it to the spirits. I ended up begging them to find SOME way to get my writing off the ground, so I could move into my own place by the end of the year. Then I can finally be alone and not get constantly reminded by people that I'm bad at housework, and remembering stuff, and all those “regular people” things that my mom and sister are just fine with.

Because LUCKY ME, I live in California where a regular fucking 1-to-2-bedroom house can cost a million dollars or MORE now. And while writing and theater has never been easy, it’s been especially bad with the pandemic.

I wore myself out a couple years ago by trying to get my writing noticed the regular way with social-media, and eventually I quit posting much about my work because I barely got any readers AT ALL, let alone people who give me feedback like I kept begging them to. (GUESS HOW MAD I WAS when I found out that literally all of the “standard” marketing advice is bullshit. I spammed Tumblr and Twitter and Facebook for nothing, isn’t that great???)

So yeah, while I vastly advocate trying mundane options before asking the spirits for help, I don’t know how I can get a writing career or earn a million dollars the “mundane” way, especially not in these times.

Which led me, in my “desperate / enraged” double-whammy of a bad mindset, to go and ask Laho the moon-eater for help.

This is not the first time. I asked him in February because I was just fucking TIRED of being stuck at home and having my writing going nowhere, and how asking the other spirits just doesn’t seem to be working.

---

So for context: Laho the Moon-Eater is a dragon in Filipino / Tagalog mythology. He causes eclipses by coming out of the deep ocean and trying to eat the sun/moon. He actively dislikes when I call him a “god” because he insists that the anito/gods have to CARE ABOUT PEOPLE, regardless of power-level, and he is a DRAGON.

He acknowledges that dragons frequently overlap WITH gods, especially in Asian / Filipino mythology, but he told me that it’s a case-by-case thing and sometimes dragons just identify as Level 10 Nature-Spirits. Which is kind of trippy when Laho constantly takes human form and looks/acts almost like Dark Bakura, what with his long white hair, his deathly pale skin, and his dickish and blunt personality. He also has a glowing “aura” that none of the other anito seem to have, even the actual sun and moon deities. I think it's either “deep-sea bio-luminescence” or “side-effects from constantly trying to eat the sun/moon.”

And uh. That comparison to DARK Bakura is not an idle one, because for me, Laho is almost on Loki levels of "Engage With Heavy Caution.” Loki and I barely get along after several years of not being able to stand each other, and after one piece of advice from Loki that went So Damn Badly, he told me we can have a do-over later on. Laho is just damn unpredictable because sometimes he comes over to tell me about stuff, but sometimes he drags me out of my meditation without even asking “hey are you busy??? I found something cool!” first.

On the other hand, Laho is not a proper “Trickster” like Loki is, so he’s not trying to curse me or anything. That involves caring enough about one random, half-trained spirit-worker to like... intentionally damage her, and Laho Does Not Care About People.

Keep in mind that while I am NOT doing formal “magic / spellwork,” thank the gods, general consensus from the other spirits is “Do Not Try This At Home.” Fuck, now that I've calmed down, *I* don’t even like asking Laho for basic goals, but... I don’t know who else I can ask.

The rest of it is behind the “Read More” heading for heavy desperation, depression, and Not Safe For Work subjects.

---

So today after my latest argument with Mom, I went to my room to lie down and get a grip on my Seething Rage And Desperation, but as mentioned before, I just ended up begging the spirits, “GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE. I JUST WANT A HOUSE AND AN ART CAREER. GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU.”

And my attempts to calm down didn’t work so much that Spirit-Me’s heart just... split open from the stress, apparently. The last time that happened was when I was high as hell on a whole weed cookie, and I started thinking the world was going to end. (Long story short, that was Loki’s Extremely Bad Advice. Yes, the spirits remembered that. No, they were not happy that I was sober this time.)

So there’s Spirit-Me, screaming and bleeding all over the damn place while Odin and the other spirits are trying to 1) stitch me back up and 2) assure me that I’m not a TOTAL failure, but I was not in the space to listen, so once I was mostly-not-bleeding, I just ran off to the spirit-ocean and found Laho.

Generally when I’m desperate enough to ask Laho for help, I end up having sex with him as a trade.

Because, at risk of repeating myself, I’m broke. In a lot more ways than “money.” I’m say I’m a half-trained spirit-worker, but if you count FILIPINO spirit-work, it’s even less. I barely even speak Tagalog, so I wouldn’t know any spells or high-end offerings to give the spirits. I don’t know what the fuck else I can trade for help, besides having sex.

I don’t even have an altar to put offerings ON, because my mom’s place has a Catholic altar and I sure as hell won’t leave food meant for pagan spirits there. I share my regular food with the spirits, and then I eat it after a few minutes.

But like... remember how Spirit-Me’s heart just split open from stress, and how I was about to have sex, which is generally Very Strenuous in both worlds? Yeah, not only did my heart split back open, I’m pretty sure me and Laho didn’t do anything resembling “spiritual foreplay” either, because Spirit-Me started bleeding down there, too.

And it’s like, Laho is not a good role model for the MORAL side of “a crying woman is asking me for help and trying to have sex,” but the Filipino spirits are extremely open about sex by itself. Even Laho prides himself on having REALLY good sex if someone comes up to him for it, because humans and involved spirits are the ones who mess shit up with “feelings” and “consent” and “maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

But he knows that humans shouldn’t be leaking gallons of blood, so once that started, he stopped. And then he assured the extremely angry anito that he only knows why I’m bleeding from ONE place, but he didn’t expect that much, and the chest wound is not from him.

Spirit-Me was now slightly WORSE than when I started—my chest hurt and my downstairs half hurt, and while I was flailing in a pool of my own blood, and begging the spirits for a steady income and a basic house, my mouth started bleeding, so now Orifice #3 Is Leaking Too Much Red Stuff.

So, I needed Freyja AND Brighid to come fix it. Brighid says that my issues are manifesting as “spiritual ulcers.” Freyja has gently advised me that given the shit that happened today, I should avoid spirit-intercourse for the next few days and seriously take it easy for other types of sex.

And weirdly enough, once everyone cleared out to give me a break from the events, the Morrigan came up and told me that she loved me, and I could ask her for help if I wasn’t too tired. She also told me that she is the goddess of sovereignty, and I don’t ask her for nearly enough things. So... yeah, I asked her for help with getting an art career and buying my own house, so I could help fix the damn planet by the end of this year, 2021.

See, the Morrigan is my patron goddess and she has been extremely hands-off in the past few years. While she DOES relegate herself to “spiritual bodyguard for the squishy writer,” sometimes she comes up and tells me she loves me, unprompted. Especially when I’m... not in a good space AT ALL, like today.

I wonder if my soul is dying, or in a LOT of trouble. Honestly, I’m not surprised. I told the spirits a while back that my soul will die if I’m stuck in this rut for much longer, where I’m not a successful artist, and so I have to live with my family, who I can’t really get along with.

I'm not good at anything besides art. Either my head just doesn’t fucking work properly for most jobs, or random shit goes wrong with basic tasks, or I end up hating the job and wishing that I could just DO ART FOR A LIVING.

The only way I can see to fix things is get an art career and move into my own place, so I don’t bother anyone and they don’t have to deal with my weirdness. But HOW THE FUCK am I gonna find a million dollars for a basic house, when I can’t even get enough people to read my stuff???

And that, followers, is why I'm up at midnight after exhausting Spirit-World shenanigans.

#spirit-work #Filipino mythology #long post #personal gnosis #unverified personal gnosis #paganism #irish paganism #anito

[fuck-customers]

BEAUTY SUPPLIES ARE NOT ESSENTIAL

The week of March 15th was the absolute week from hell at my job. I work at that one beauty supply store, ya’know the one with a lady’s name? First off the higher ups treat store level employees like fucking shit and I seriously feel like they screw us so far as pay and hours go, but that’s for another time. Anyways that was the week here in my home state (CT) that things with Covid-19 really got bad. It was also the week my boss happened to take off just so she could use some time before my 6 month pregnant coworker went out on leave. Mind you she took this week off months ago, not knowing the hell that was about to break loose.

Some background ,besides my boss and myself (only other full time besides my boss), I have 3 coworkers. A new girl who’s very nice, but a complete idiot, that my other coworkers and I agree my boss under trained before she put her with us. My coworker who’s pregnant, and has some mental health issues of her own. We can call her P. And my other coworker who’s been there a few years herself. I’ll call her H because she’s a hairdresser. I’ve been at my job nearly 7 years, and pretty much run the show when my boss isn’t around. Not like ordering my coworkers around, but paperwork and other tasks become my problem if the boss isn’t around. However I have really bad anxiety. It makes my skin condition flair up when my anxiety is bad. (And let’s face it this pandemic has got my anxiety through the roof) Oh and not to mention I was dealing with a freshly healed hand that I cut at work that required stitches, and this crazy whitehead I got on my forehead that kept my eye swollen half shut for half the week.

Sunday- it’s me and the new girl, who’s over confident but cannot keep up. Sundays are either busy or slow as all get out. It was super busy. I couldn’t get any of my normal Sunday stuff done. Customers looked at me funny because of my eye. Come to find out my boss later says she thought she put P on. Which would of been better because she’s more competent.

Monday- I walk into H telling me it’s been super busy, it continues that way. H and I try to keep the store somewhat sorted. We’re surprised with orders to close 30 mins before they wanted us close. We do what we have to do. I tell my manager who has me take a work iPad home so she or I can keep an eye on stuff if need be. I do not do the important tasks I had to do that day, there was just no time. Thankfully it saved me from having to close alone and be there 3 hours alone at night.

Tuesday- I’m off, but I drop the iPad off to my boss at her home. I hear it was crazy busy at work from P. They’ve cut our hours being open from 9-9 to 10-6.

Wednesday- I’m now working open to close the rest of the week. Wednesday our shipments come in and this is no different. It’s only the new girl and I today. It ends up being chaos. Everyone’s coming in exclaiming how happy they are we’re open. People apparently really can’t live without their hair dye. We’ve been told to disinfect every 2 hours. I try to keep up with that along with new directives from corporate. We get so many each day.

Thursday- shipment wasn’t finished yesterday. It still doesn’t get finished today. The store is small. A woman with a lung condition calls about 3 times to say she’s coming in and will be wearing a a mask so don’t think she’s contagious (amongst other things I don’t have the patience to type out) No one understands the concept of keeping 6 feet away. Corporate decides today we’re no longer going to take returns or exchanges. Nor will we take cash or checks. Customers continue to be rude and meaner. Everyone acts like having roots is going to kill them. I continue to try and keep order. When we finally close, P goes in back and cries. She can’t take the customers anymore. Neither could I. It was getting to be too much. In the mean time we’ve tried to tell our boss how stressful this whole thing is. She brushes it off. She’s not there so she just doesn’t get it. A customer asked if my skin condition was ringworm. Which was just rude. I end up going home and having a full blown panic attack.

Friday- my last day of work for however long this goes on. People are coming in like we’re having a massive sale. This whole week sales have been through the roof. We’re running out of things. I’ve heard every conspiracy in the book. I’ve been yelled at. I must of answered at least 100 “are you open” phone calls by this point. We finally get our shipment finished. I have to work with new girl again. She doesn’t seem to get the concept of no cash. I didn’t even put money in the drawers so even if someone had cash there would be no change to give, but she still attempts to take cash at least twice. Also had a customer ask for my name and when the manager would be in. Coworker and friend who was in couldn’t figure out why the fuck she’d do that. I only said I couldn’t remember what color she bought last time and that I was sorry. (It’s hard to remember everyone’s)Thankfully it was the last day for me.

Saturday- my boss finally decided to go into work herself. Corporate decided that would be the last day we’d be open till at least mid April. I move back into my own house after 4 months (another long stupid totally unrelated story) and silently thank whoever blessed me with not having to go in on Sunday.

All I can say is customers are fucking assholes. Hair dye isn’t essential. And everyone should learn some fucking manners. Oh and my boss is an asshole for making us deal with this shit without her. Everyone please fucking stay home unless it’s an absolute necessity. You’ll live without your makeup and nail polish remover. Fuck customers and fuck corporate. You all suck!

Anyways sorry if this is too long, I just had a lot to get off my chest. Thank you to the actual essential workers out there doing their job so we can stay safe and healthy!

#fuck retail #fuck co-workers #fuck managers #fuck coworkers #fuck customers #submission

[yyxgin]

i think what bugged me the most is i could say ‘they’re literal depression pills/they made me depressed’ and could reel off the side effect word for word (1/10 will experience mood swings (sometimes in the form of depression)) which was literally the first fricking side effect listed and the most common and she would still refer to it as me being sad literally seconds later in a convo. okay i never went to the doctor but when it occurred to me that, hey, something isn’t right, we were in the middle of a fucking pandemic!! i mean, we still are, but you get the point. this was right at the beginning when they basically closed everything as well so even if i wanted to i wouldn’t have been able to go see someone about it. but it’s whatever now, i don’t take them and i don’t have to give her any advice about them ✌️ i completely get the lack of validity about your emotions. that’s exactly how i felt.

i work so im not bothered about seeing people as i see them enough by my standards already but there is a helpful little voice in the back of my head reminding me that i still need to see my friends!! from before i got a job lol. i worked like 55 hours? my first proper week when i wasn’t on reduced hours and now i work maybe 30? which annoys me so i’m gonna ask for more bc i wanna buy a car and insurance. you still go to school, right? i feel like you’re more stressed about work considering you’re studying too. or were. have you just broken up from school? i don’t study, thank fuck, anymore, so i can do full time but i always get put on evenings so i’m thinking of getting a 9 to 5 bc then i can get the money i need.

a woman was rude to me bc her takeaway wasn’t ready bang on the clock when she turned up to pick it up. man it took literally every fibre in my being not to tell her to fucking leave me alone bc i’m a waitress?? what does she expect me to do??? i found out after but apparently our website tells you to allow a 15 minute slot when you order takeaway to pick up. i checked on this woman’s takeaway and told her it’d be ready in 10 minutes and she said sumn along the lines of ‘so 10 past 8?’. imma tell you straight i wasn’t looking at my phone so i assumed that meant the time was 8pm! (it wasn’t) she said to me ‘and i assume you’ll be knocking money off of the bill for that?’ and i politely replied ‘i can’t do that.’ bc i literally cannot. has to be a managerial figure. bearing in mind she’s already paid in full online???????? n she replies ‘do you wanna go suggest that?’ and nods towards the kitchen and i said no and walked off. the AUDACITY??? anyway i told my manager and she rolled her eyes and was like we don’t do partial refunds and said she’d talk to the woman when her order was ready. this woman was all up in my face saying ‘do you think that’s a reasonable time?’ asking if she should come back at 8:10 and im like idfk?? i have things to be doing can you fuck off?? no i didn’t say that but she says ‘i’ve got kids in the car with the engine running’ and i deadpanned ‘i didn’t tell you to leave your kids in the car with the engine running’ bc it was the first thing my brain thought of that wasn’t ‘sounds like a you problem to me’. in the end she left and came back but when she came back she was properly shouting at another waitress i work with and the girl was like 😄 your food was ready 20 minutes ago but you didn’t leave your details to be able to ring you to tell you it’s ready. she even re-mentioned the kids in the car saying they were starving and it was all our fault and the girl was like hmm okay. and then the woman said she was gonna leave a bad review on trip advisor!! and the waitress was like 😃 you do that bestie!! another great day on the grind :D (i forgot to say we were swamped on saturday so that’s why everything was so busy but she was literally the only one complaining that bad, like literally everyone could see we were struggling but they also were saying to wait staff things like ‘i know you can’t make things go quicker back there’ while we were apologising for the phat delay on their food).

another funny one (that made the barman laugh when i told it to him) was a grandma and a grandson in my section. the grandma was dictating his life jesus 😭 (not important but made me go 😳) but one of the girls cleared the table partially when i was doing sumn else so i finished it off and when we get back to kp she tells me the grandma complained the food was cold and without hesitation i said ‘well she fucking ate it all so tell her to fuck off and talk to someone who gives a shit’. she went quiet and i was like,, man i hope i didn’t scare her. but like. they cleared their plates. there was no food left. she didn’t call someone over. she didn’t say anything to anyone when they ask if it was okay. why wait until the end?? anyway i told thé barman and he giggled (he’s got a lovely laugh in my opinion bc it sounds like he’s snickering at everything). i was NOT going to tell my manager bc there’s literally no point. same day, later on, a man said his mussels were cold, i took them back and the kitchen cooked them again. i’d barely put the food down before he called me over (this one is a good one bc he hasn’t eaten EVERYTHING before complaining and therefore we can do something about the problem‼️) respect to that guy.

one of the girls gave me a lift home last night n the barman directed her right to my house without ever having been to my house before (his cousin used to live in the flats down the other end, he says) and when i messaged her later on thanking her and saying it was a bit sus that he directed her perfectly to mine n she said ‘hmm ben seems to go to yours more than he does his own home 🤔🤔🤔🤔’ bc apparently he was absolute shite at giving directions to his flat 😭 n e way he’s a sweetheart n he says he doesn’t like christmas anymore n he made me sad after he said that n i said i’d post coal through his letter box n he said i might as well n i was like okay this is an actual problem n now i’m gone be super nice to him at christmas bc he deserves so much more that the hand he’s been dealt. this convo happened after i let him try this herbal tea he said smelt nice n i said it tasted like christmas to me. he’s such a good person (despite literally everything he tells me about his past) n i cannot have him being a little humbug. god i think this crush i joked to you about is becoming a soft core friendship. like every fucking wattpad story out there. me n the girls agreed someone has to love him 🥺

okay im signing off now ily ~ 🌻

 i am glad you are feeling better though, nobody deserves to suffer. and nobody deserves to have their emotions invalidated. remember that your emotions matter at all times. <3

yesyes i am still in school !! altough my summer break started on july 1st so i am not that stressed about managing many things at once anymore hh,, also you are working so much ??? damn ?? please remember to take some breaks and relax !! and meet your friends !!! have fun. i know you are saving up money but please dont overwork yourself !

wHY ARE PEOPLE SO RUDE OH MY GOD I SWEAR,,, i learned that while working with people. i just,, it feels like they are all looking down on me just because i am young and work there part-time. like bro,,chill. also i feel kind of bad when they ask me where stuff is and i cant tell them bc i have no idea but at the same time if people were all introverts like me i wouldnt have this problem. :) dfjk jk jk i should improve on that. i wish people were more nice to you !!! who do they think they are ?? like,,,,,why are you rude. this is clearly not your problem.

i like it when people tell you respectfully. like the guy you mentioned. because clearly what are you going to do about the cold food when they’ve eaten it all. where’s the logic. 

IT SOUNDS LIKE HE IS OVER AT YOURS EVERY OTHER DAY DFJAKL that’s so funny. also i am bad at giving directions to my flat as well lmaoo poor ladies that drive me home from work sometimes. also i hate christmas as well lmaoo i feel that boy. its a little hard for me and i hope he doesn’t feel as bad during christmas this year when he has you around hihi,,, i fully stan this friendship. altough i am a big fan of friends to lovers if you know what i mean. in the energy of wattpad :))

ily !!!

#you can guess my mental stability by how quick i respond to asks #anyways #💌ask #🌻 anon

[rebel-in-white]

The Perfect Ending for Dean and Sam? - Supernatural 15x20

As I read reviews about the Supernatural series, nothing disturbs me more than reading things like the title of this essay, “This was the Perfect Ending for Sam and Dean.” It’s disturbing because as fans of this 15-year show, we are accepting mediocrity. Far from being a perfect ending, this was one of the worst television show endings that I have ever seen because the characters weren’t allowed to change and grow. 

When I watched the Supernatural series finale, I was struck by the realization that this could have easily been the finale of season 1. In season 1, we were dealing with Dean’s feelings of being second best, Sam wanting a “normal” life, Dean choosing the dangerous world of hunting, and the value of saving the innocent despite the dangers. In episode 15x20, the episode implies that we are still dealing with the same themes from episode 1, even though SO many events have passed, and Sam and Dean dealt with their own issues in varying ways. Dean’s death during a mundane hunt harks back to season 1’s warnings and omens about the dangerous life of a hunter. Meanwhile in season 15, the Winchesters are fighting God and survived that battle. Sam’s “happy” ending harks back to his desire to be with Jessica and find a happy, “apple pie” (normal) life. Meanwhile in season 15, Sam has lost everything… again. He lost his adopted son, his good friend, his mother for the second time, his surrogate father, his girlfriend (what happened to Eileen?), and his brother. Also, let’s not forget that Adam died and was a Winchester. Season 15 does not agree with, and contradicts, its final episode. 

Everything that has happened after season 1 and right before the series finale doesn’t matter. That is the message the series finale communicated with fans. Some fans might be alright with this message because it’s such a long series, too much has happened, but there are many fans who have avidly watched these characters grow and change. They themselves have grown and changed with these characters! Watching the finale felt like a slap in the face, a surreal dream, because the writers and the show-runner shut the door on any type of meaningful change that has occurred throughout the series. Throughout the years, Sam and Dean were able to create meaningful connections outside of their partnership, noticeably with Jack and Cas. Both were only mentioned. That merits repeating again. Castiel, who had become a fan favorite in the series, only gets a few mentions. Dean, the one with whom he shares a profound bond, shrugs off his death and continues enjoying his pie. Like the last 12 years of developing that friendship, emphasizing their bond, and teasing fans with their deep connection meant nothing. Because ultimately, the show sent a clear message to its viewers: it doesn’t matter what these characters have gone through, it doesn’t matter the people who have come and enriched their lives, but what matters is where they started. The journey, and the accompanying life experiences, don’t matter.

I read a really hurtful review about the series finale that implied that Sam could only be happy on Earth because his brother had died. He was no longer his brother’s keeper, so now he could have everything he wanted- a family and normalcy. That was the Sam of season 1 - before his brother died for him, before he died for his brother, before his demon blood addiction, before he saved the world numerous times, before he adopted a half angel kid into his family, before meeting his Mom again. All of those experiences profoundly change a person. His idea of normal and happiness changed, became vastly different. The show hinted at this when we saw the names carved on the table in episode 15x19. Sam stopped running away from hunting, his duties, struggled with his destiny, and fought for his freedom and seemed content with what he had. The show even implied a budding romance with a fellow hunter, Eileen. Sam from season 1 would have turned away from all this because it interfered with his desire to be normal. However, this was shoved at Sam in the most confusing, contrived, and sickening manner. After Dean dies during the series finale, Sam mopes for a bit, then he goes on a hunt, and reverts back to Sam of season 1 with ease. He gets everything he’d wanted- an unnamed, unseen wife and a child who he names Dean. If Sam from episode 15x19, 15x18, from any episode after season 1, saw this ending for himself, he would have run away screaming. He wouldn’t be able to accept it. Why? Because that’s not what he wanted for himself anymore. He wanted to be with his loved ones, which included Dean plus his extended family. 

If Sam’s ending was problematic, Dean’s is inconceivable. This is a character who has struggled with so many issues and low self-esteem and has gone through so many ups and downs that to see him die, impaled on a nail by clowns, devastated and confused many fans. I actually laughed out loud when he died because it was so ridiculous. It hurt to see a beloved character treated like trash, then proceed to accept his death with arms wide open. Where was Dean’s desire to live? This is the man who survived hell, saved the world several times, sacrificed himself for Sam, and had to fight daily to survive. And I don’t mean in a I’m-a-hunter-and-life-is-dangerous way, but in a real, this-world-is-fucked-up-and-I-can’t-do-it anymore way. 

That was what always attracted me to Dean. His fight to survive in a world that didn’t make sense to him, and his ability to cling to life despite feeling too broken and inadequate. For many of the fans, they resonated with that and admired him for his grit and his humanity. In the series finale, Dean gives up. He accepts death, accepts this strange looking heaven, even though he was weirded out by heaven when he first encountered it. He rides around in his car- alone and waiting for Sam. That’s what Dean boils down to- alone and living for Sam. The show sends a message that Dean doesn’t deserve anything else. Despite everything he’s done throughout the 15 years of this series, Dean can’t escape his destiny to die on a mundane hunt.  The same death that had been foreshadowed in season 1. With only his brother with him to see him go. Dean fought so hard to be free from Chuck’s stories and from his own demons that to see him reduced to drinking beer and riding around in the Impala felt like he’s regressed 15 years. And some fans think he deserved this? What has Dean done to you?

Dean had potential to show growth and to show true change and progress through a possible relationship with Castiel, but the show metaphorically gave its queer fans, their allies, and narrowed minded viewers a big middle finger. Yes, even people who hated the idea of Destiel, you should be angry. Instead of the show stretching your thinking and challenging you to accept something different and progressive, the show decided to pat you on the head and feed you some metaphorical shit. Please don’t eat it. Throughout the show, there had been signs that Dean and Castiel shared a profound bond that extended into a romantic subtext. It started with the angel’s entrance and charisma, and Dean’s acceptance of him into his life (very rare for Dean to form lasting relationships), and it ended with a confirmed love confession. Now, imagine that you’ve been hoping for years that all these hints, looks, and jokes would go somewhere. That maybe someone will validate your views and make you feel like you’ve brought progressive change to television. Well, that’s what it felt like to be a Destiel fan after episode 15x18. Destiel became half canon! Castiel declared his romantic feelings to Dean, which Misha Collins confirmed to be of a homosexual nature, but he knew that he couldn’t have what he wanted. He died to save a shell-shocked Dean Winchester. Not only did the show kill Castiel, but they sent him to hell (granted, he didn’t stay long), and they sent Dean Winchester, the man who stayed “straight,” to heaven. 

This was problematic in many ways. One, the message is homophobic, heinous, but subtle. If you’re gay or queer, you are thrown away, never to be seen again because your feelings will upset the masses. It’s what happened to Castiel, a confirmed queer character. When episode 15x20 finished and Dean hadn’t even mentioned Castiel out of his own freewill, I was upset. Here comes the second problem. This show had used queer-baiting for the past 12 years or so to keep its numbers up and to keep itself on the air. It used queer-baiting to a most hurtful and insidious way to attract viewers to the series finale. Then, they shut it down after teasing something that several, enthusiastic fans had wanted for years. Why open this pandora box if you aren’t going to do anything with it? What is the point? Leading people to create false assumptions, playing with people’s emotions in a negative way, reinforcing negative heteronomative stereotypes- this is what the show has accomplished. This is its legacy.

I wrote this essay to free myself from this show. After this, I am not a Supernatural fan anymore. This show has left a bad taste in my mouth, and I want nothing to do with it or anyone associated with it. I urge you to free yourselves as well and also to not accept this mediocrity that Supernatural gave us. Stop other shows and networks from manipulating and leading on its fans. Stop them from ignoring years of growth in order to feed you the same story and keep you mediocre and small. I know the pandemic of 2020 made things difficult, but that’s no excuse to create the subpar work the Supernatural writers/show-runner/staff did. With just a little bit of creativity and intelligence, they could have produced something great, no matter the obstacles. I used to believe in that.

Supernatural, thank you for the years of enjoyment, but I never want to see you again.

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