kassadidi

[kassadidi]

After the gunshots, the smashed radio, and relieved hugs in the empty hospital, Liam had said, “Let’s go,” and Theo followed wordlessly.

The wetness in his eyes stuck around. He didn’t care to wipe them; the dam could crumble if he did. There was some kind of fragility to Theo in that moment despite his strength, endurance, history, and everything else. Despite, despite, despite. He couldn’t even be frustrated at himself because of it. Something heavy covered his mind, threads of sorrow and grief sewn into a blanket of numbness. It almost scared him, feeling like that. Distress tied a knot against his sternum. Instinctual masking—a skill ingrained too strongly to abandon now—kept his hands from shaking, kept his heart from racing, but it didn’t feel like enough. Echoes of phantom pain crept up his forearms as if the black veins were still there. They weren’t. He kept glancing at the skin anyway, following the stretch down from his hands which somehow sat relaxed against his steering wheel.

Theo didn’t remember the drive to the school; he parked his truck mechanically, auto-pilot keeping his body moving when his mind wasn’t following along. It was concerning. There was safety in awareness, and yet he started missing everything.

He didn’t notice Liam’s gaze until a moment too late for it to seem natural. A foot already over the blacktop, Liam paused halfway in his attempt to climb out.

“Let’s go,” he repeated, and Theo didn’t follow. Instead, his eyes flicked away.

When he found his voice, it still sounded as stilted as it had when he spoke to Gabe. “You go ahead.” Liam’s pack—Scott’s pack—were surely waiting inside, and Theo had enough sense to know that the pardon they’d briefly granted him for the sake of a war wouldn’t last. It would be a pack reunion, a celebration, and Theo already felt disconnected enough without standing on the sidelines for their touching moment.

Liam stayed silent for a few beats. In the quiet, Theo glanced over to be met with an unreadable expression. Maybe he could’ve figured it out if he tried harder. He didn’t, instead waiting until Liam spoke. Almost abrasive, almost cold, but not quite there: “Are you leaving?”

Whether he meant the parking lot or Beacon Hills in general, Theo wasn’t sure. Either way, he answered honestly. “I don’t know.” Why would he stay, yet where would he go? The internal back-and-forth wasn’t unfamiliar.

Liam pressed his lips into a line then, looking at the school before turning to him again. After seeming to debate himself for a moment, he asked, “Are you okay?”

It caught Theo a little off-guard. Before he could try to think of any real answer to give, though, a response came out automatically. “I’m fine.” His steady heart concealed the lie, of course, but his low tone betrayed it. Still, he vaguely remembered digging the bullet out of his own shoulder at the hospital; physically, he was fine. That was what really mattered anyway. “Are you?”

Liam nodded dismissively, eyes somewhere else. “Fine.” Then, “Tired.”

With a slow nod back—even though Liam didn’t see it—Theo said, “Makes sense. You went through a lot.” Too soft. There was a hum in response. “…you should get in there before they think something bad happened.”

That seemed to wake Liam up, as if he’d forgotten where he was. “Right—“ He finished climbing out of the passenger’s seat, holding onto the edge of the door instead of closing it. A moment of hesitation followed before, “I need a ride home.”

A family full of people able to drive Liam home stood in that building and they both knew that. Part of Theo didn’t want to see any of them, including Liam, ever again. Another part couldn’t say no to their requests, as if that would ever mean anything. The same part always won out. “Yeah, I’ll drive you, Liam,” he said, quiet and knowing.

Letting out a breath, Liam nodded. “Okay.”

[kassadidi]

Someone at an old job asked why I wanted to write up the meeting minutes for our team and I said 'i wanna control the narrative' and they were like 'what' and I pointed out that no one was gonna remember what we said in six months and so my interpretation of the meeting would dictate the assumed reality of what happened

"none of you ever send corrections when I offer the draft so y'all have consented to my version"

"we don't read that shit"

"you must trust me implicitly to create our shared reality that's so sweet"

That's how several coworkers decided I was a supervillain and how I learned several coworkers didn't understand record keeping as like a CONCEPT

[kassadidi]

You know those photos of little birds sleeping together on a branch, all cuddled up in a line? This, but its the Order of the Robins from Dark Knights of Steel, high up on some precarious ledge:

(The photos in question:)

[kassadidi]

Urgent care is a very funny name for it because they do not treat you with any urgency nor do they care

[kassadidi]

hate when I see the comment "big news for unemployed people" on internet drama. really discounting the dedication of us chronically online employed people. does my 15 minutes in a public restroom at work scrolling online mean nothing to you...

[kassadidi]

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

“On a white shirt, you're a small stain. The tiny thing that's bothersome. A cuckoo's egg in the nest that doesn't belong here. You don't fit in the picture.”

“A drop of rust inhibitor, in a glass of milk.”

“And so alone, no one here to share this feeling with you. It's easier to not give a shit about anything, when you're with someone.”

“As long as someone keeps shouting "Fuck you all," nothing is lost. I'm still up for a fight, I'll sing out of tune in any choir.”

“As long as someone keeps shouting "Fuck you all," nothing is lost. I'm always up for a fight, I'll sing out of tune in any choir.”

“Oh my God, look at that! The entire horizon is lit up in orange, the suburb is on fire.”

“Oh my God, look at that! Only two small weeds in the flowerbed aren't burned.”

“You're not alone. One person is enough to share this feeling with you. It's easier to not give a shit about anything when you're with someone.”

“As long as someone keeps shouting "Fuck you all," nothing is lost. I'm still up for a fight, I'll sing out of tune in any choir.”

“As long as someone keeps shouting "Fuck you all," nothing is lost. I'm always up for a fight, I'll sing out of tune in any choir.”

“I'll sing out of tune in any choir.”

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

If you like the song, maybe check out my Thiam playlist? :D ♡

[kassadidi]

when I was a kid I wished I had nosebleeds. I had some friends who had them and I was like. that looks so fucking cool. you're just sitting there and suddenly you're covered in blood. it looks so dramatic. it looks so... and here my language failed me. at such a humble age I did not have the vocabulary to describe the sublime. I just sat in incomprehensible jealousy. I turned out totally normal by the way

[kassadidi]

Man, Scott's murder just gets to me. It's the cruelty of it. Theo tears away all his friends and manipulates him and betrays him and humiliates him and poisons him and leaves him to bang on the bars of his cage for hours, knowing his murder is coming. He makes one of Scott's best friends try to kill him, makes Scott pick between dying and killing this kid. And Scott takes a violent beating and the only reprieve comes from another loss--that someone else has died, someone Scott has tried so hard to save, someone else he's failed. And Mason is so scared and needs answers Scott doesn't have, help he can't give. And all of that's over in seconds because Theo's gonna kill him even when it gets him nothing.

It's the smallness of it. Scott dies for nothing except Theo's desire to kill him! He won't get any power out of it, the Doctors don't care. Theo wants to kill him because he's "perfect," something that has to be so bitterly laughable to Scott right now. He's gonna kill Scott because he's a werewolf--because he was attacked in the woods one night and has been a target ever since. He's gonna die for that! He's gonna die because Theo is so obsessed with things that don't matter, being a real werewolf doesn't matter. It's so small and Theo's killing him so violently over it.

It's how desperately Scott clings to whatever little he has left. He's ground down so relentlessly into his own powerlessness. He can't save anyone, he can't escape, he can't fight, he can't breathe. By the time Theo kills him, he can't even stand--Theo is holding him up by the claws he's got buried inside him. Mason's lying unconscious beside him and Theo could kill him so easily if he wanted and Scott can't stop him and he's got to spend his final moments facing that. He's fought so desperately to have any control over his body and his life and to make things better for others, to make meaning of the violence that was done to him, and this is where it's gotten him and everyone he cares about. He's got a few final breaths before this person he thought was his friend--whom he tried to help--silences him forever and the only thing he's got is man, at least I know what matters. And does it really matter when all it gets him is those final tortured breaths before he dies alone and in pain.

[kassadidi]

The concept of Jonathan and Mike arguing over Will's safety and Jonathan is like: "Dude he's my brother!" And Mike is like: "Well he's my-" --awkward pause-- "my f-friend..." And then Jonathan gives him THE LOOK.

[kassadidi]

[kassadidi]

han jisung isnt my bias but hes who i aspire to be in life 😔✋️ writing songs for himself and scream them on stage at the top of his emo lungs while dressing up like his fav iconic anime char

bro has what i want fr

[kassadidi]

if only dog had a bigger bed available, or perhaps two. maybe even a human bed. alas, he must make do with a measly little pillow.

[kassadidi]

Liam and Mason, your friendship means so much to me

[kassadidi]

a middle aged woman just stared at me like i killed her entire fam on the tram earlier bro that tiny bit of black eyeliner in my waterline doesnt mean im a bad person 🥹 woman i wouldve given u my seat if i HAD ONE brjsjjejd what have i ever done to her

[kassadidi]

it was so bad that "do it for the plot" wasnt even convincing. every cell in my body knew that it was not the plot development we need despite the lack of content over the past decade

[kassadidi]

The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.

Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.

So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.

Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.