#CHS 100 II

[davetada]

Pulled off of PCH to take a quick snap

Malibu?, CA

[vladsbride]

how do you need to be touched?

── gently .

you need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

tagged by: @troubleah 🖤

tagging: @toapaixonar @ofvalor @withliight @luposcainus @tricursed and you !

[funwithcameras]

September Flours by Bill Smith

[dark-fics-4-you]

Sophie’s World

⋆ 18+ Only ⋆

All of my works contain dark themes, including dubcon, noncon (aka rape), abusive relationships, forced pregnancy, incest, and possibly more (each fanfic will have individual content warnings)

DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE ABOVE THEMES

Recent Fics

Power Trip - corrupted!peacekeeper!Sejanus can’t hold himself back when he finds district!Reader drunk in a back alley

In the Night - ghostface!stepbro!Rafe doesn’t like how close you’ve been getting with JJ

Old Grudges Die Hard - Rafe Cameron had made your life hell ever since you first met him in elementary school. When you moved away for college, you thought you were finally done with your bully, but your life changes when you come face to face with him at his party a year later.

Crying in the Country Club ch. IV

Crying in the Country Club ch. III

Crying in the Country Club ch. II

Crying in the Country Club ch. I

Softcore - Dilf!Rafe retaliates when younger!Reader jokes that he needs viagra

Number One Fan ch. V - Rafe tightens his control over you, continuing to shut you out from the rest of the world

Number One Fan ch. IV - your step brother can’t stand to watch you flirt with JJ Maybank, and he finally decides to take what he believes he’s owed.

After Hours Lesson - After class dinner, your professor, Coriolanus Snow, offers you a ride home

Faking It - Rafe gets pissed off after he realized you faked an orgasm

Love Plus One - After you get pregnant with your boyfriend of 3 years, you start to notice him becoming much more controlling of you

Equal Exchange - After accepting help from a stranger on a back road in the dead of night, you realize Rafe Cameron expects you to pay him back, one way or another

About Me

I go by Sophie! I’m 23 years old and I use she/her pronouns.

I have been writing fanfiction since I was 14 (yes there is an incredibly cursed blog full of kpop fanfic that I wrote in middle school still floating around on tumblr to this day). I first got into reading dark fanfics when I was 19 or 20 and I’ve been writing and posting my own dark fanfics for about 2 years.

Who I Write For

Sophie’s Masterlist

I mostly write for Rafe Cameron and Coriolanus Snow, but I have written for Sejanus Plinth, Loki, and Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) in the past.

In addition to my Rafe Cameron fics, I have also featured Topper Thorton as a character in a smut.

Requests

Requests are allowed and encouraged but I can give no guarantee that I will get around to writing all of them. I currently have over 100 messages in my inbox, so if I don't end up taking your request, it's nothing personal, I just have a lot of them :)

Here is a list of what I will not write about

Recs!!!!!

Recommends tag is #recrecrec

I reblog many fics written by other authors onto this blog but here are just a couple of my favorite authors on tumblr that I have to rec

@cherienymphe

@rvfecamerons

@bunnyrafe

@perlelune

@quin-ns

@proactivetypaperson

@spideyhexx

@youaremyhome

[kakuzatos]

kobeni’s devil

!! spoilers for chainsaw man !!

so, episode 9 came out and i watched it with vigor. as expected, kobeni slayed this episode and didn’t disappoint me with her moves. damn, she was quick. you really can’t have a pure hatred for kobeni, it will always have love in the mix. 

and while i was thinking about her, i got curious about her devil again. really, what is this big secret... why was she the only one who got out alive after 100 chapters while other characters like aki and power were ultimately killed off? she surely has relevance in the plot and there is a reason why her devil is concealed as a secret. a devil like that would be thought of as a dangerous one because kobeni can’t even say its name. 

naturally, i go to a full-on zoning out session thinking of the many possibilities of kobeni’s devil. 

i. well, first, i thought of the possibility of her being a devil that has a human-like appearance like makima, yoru and fami. that is a good theory, but her having a family and a brother denounces it a bit. i’m not saying that devils don’t have families and aren’t capable of being raised by one (makima was raised by the government, that’s why she’s like the way she is, if that ever counts as a family). i’m not particularly fond with this one, though, since kobeni is pretty much the most human person in the whole cast. i mean, look at her. 

scared shitless. if she was a devil, she would’ve been happy. devils thrive on fear, they don’t live with it. that would be pretty fun, though. 

ii. moving on. she could have a contract with the death devil. it’s probably the most overstated theory and for good reason. first of all, i’ve read this comment in a reddit post about a totally unrelated, regardless interesting, observation on chapter 113.

the comment reads: 

Getting back to my tangent about the Four Horsemen: the Four Horsemen are unique because, unlike normal devils, who only use fear, the Horsemen are each able to use one of the four emotions unique to humans, listed by the Doll Devil in ch 63:

Conquest uses Worship (aka reverence). So long as humans revere her, they hold her in a "higher place", allowing her to control them. Put from her POV, that means that, so long as the human is "lower" than her, she can control them.

Conquest bends the "rules" around devil contracts in two ways. The first way is obvious - she can force "lesser" humans to submit to her contracts. The second way is by being able to claim ownership over other devils. This means that, unlike a normal devil, Conquest can use other devils like as though they were part of her own body. This gave her the ability to use Angel's powers as though they were her own. This also means she could offer the bodies of other devils in her contracts, as we saw with Aki and the Gun Devil.

War uses Guilt. The greater the guilt she feels, the stronger the weapon she creates. The irony here is that War is so selfish and so absent of the understanding of right and wrong that she's unable to feel much guilt over anything she does. She blames Pochita for her current weakness, but really, she's inherently pretty weak compared to the other Horsemen, just because of this anti-synergy with her own power.

War bends the "rules" by forming completely lopsided "contracts". Like Makima, Yoru removes the human's consent from the equation - if she claims ownership, so long as it's something she can touch, she can weaponize it. But the person turned into a weapon gains nothing from it, the only benefactor is Yoru. Completely one-sided "contracts".

Famine uses Adoration/Respect. We'll see what this means exactly later, but I think I kind of touched on it in my other comment. War and Famine are a yin and yang duo - Yoru is "night", while the heart of Justice "shines with light". And while Yoru is completely selfish and devoid of the understanding of good and evil, Famine seems stuck doing things for others (in other words, is "selfless"), all while being very concerned with the understanding of good and evil. Yoru's power is based on guilt, aka, being able to sense the evil in yourself. So hence, I suspect Famine's "Respect"-based powers are based on being able to sense the good in other people.

Famine bends the "rules" by also forming completely lopsided contracts. The difference is, while Yoru only takes... as Yuko pointed out, Justice only gives. My guess is that, if Famine senses that a human is "good", she can form zero-cost contracts.

Death uses Pity. Pity is the feeling you get when you watch other living things suffer. The idea that Death gets stronger from feelings of pity sends shivers down my spine...

This is especially the case if it's true that every Horseman is trying to cancel out the source of their own power. Conquest's dream is to form equal, nonhierarchical, relationships, which flies in the face of a being whose power is based on hierarchy. So if Death wants to be rid of the "source of its power", too, then wouldn't it have to get rid of all suffering?

notice something about death. death is also powered by pity. kobeni is pretty damn pitiful in almost all her screentime, manga or anime, except her fabulous show in episode 9. but she did experience a lot of torment and she is generally seen as pitiful. maybe, just maybe, that pity she gets from other people is what feeds the death devil. and having to survive all what happened in the past arcs, i wouldn’t be surprised if she ever was involved with such a mortifying devil like the death devil. she dodged death in multiple occasions, it’s like death sided with her. another thing, in hell or chapter 63-64, the darkness devil didn’t even try to kill her. maybe it’s scared?

it’s also such a fun concept to think about. this traumatized girl who is about to shit herself has a contract with the death devil. fucking metal. the thought alone deserves its own book. 

iii. kobeni has a contract with the luck devil! a lot of people agree with this one! i don’t know if it’s good luck or bad luck, though. she seems to somehow have both, so i’m not sure. many people do lean into the idea of a “chance devil”, but i’m pretty certain, if that was the case, it would be the “bad luck” or “misfortune” devil. if there was a luck devil, why would anyone fear good luck? it would’ve been extremely weak because, in retrospect, no one would fear good luck. 

so, bad luck. in this article, it stated that kobeni somehow feeds the bad luck devil with her own bad luck and fear, explaining why she doesn’t sacrifice her body parts. 

although this is good, personally i don’t favor it too much. fujimoto is known for his chaotic direction of his manga and always being spontaneous that you can’t predict it, but it’s done so, in a way, that it’s orchestrated. hints are left, foreshadowing is present; it’s chaotic but makes sure to make sense to us too. a good story should make sense while maintaining its unpredictability. so, a death devil is already hinted. a bad luck devil is not. (yet) 

well, this theory will just have to wait for a while. maybe, there will be a time when a bad luck devil will appear or get mentioned. 

iv. in this post, kobeni is theorized to be contracted with a devil connected to survival. for one, if that devil were to be connected to survival, it could either mean: a fear of death or a fear of getting hurt. 

a fear of death relates to the death devil. 

a fear of getting hurt relates to a pain devil of some sorts. a pain devil would be cool because it will be powerful. almost all humans are scared of being hurt and will make a bit more sense in the storyline, considering that her line of work is potentially getting hurt and seeing others getting hurt because of her. pretty neat theory! 

v. same post in iv, there’s a comment where she might be have a contract with the knife devil. although, there is no evidence to back this up, her main weapon of choice is a knife. in a way, it makes sense.  

v. car devil. no questions. in fact, according to u/LeynaSepKim, it was even foreshadowed in chapter 5, in their post.

all are only speculation! feel free to correct me or add some other theories. the only thing we can do to form more theories and solidify existing ones is to wait. we have yet to see her full potential. she is shown to be athletic in the anime and the manga, but not her power in its entirety. 

[slexenskee]

Ru-kun’s Excessive Guitar Collection

Fell down a rabbit hole debating what guitar Ru-kun plays and decided there was no reason to narrow it down to one lol. Also he’s totally the type to just have way more guitars (and shoes) then he could possibly ever use and should totally have one of those epic guitar walls whenever he gets around to making that recording room.

Squier Contemporary Jaguar HH ST Electric Guitar (Sky Burst Metallic): His first guitar. He bought it as a teenager living in Endeavor’s house to a) make noise and piss his father off and b) because he really liked the color. It’s still his favorite. He played it in his junior-high garage band Band Aids. Fans saw a bit of it during the first few years of No Scrubs’ live shows, back when they still played in tiny dive bars and Ru-kun was so close you could touch him 😭. It makes fans very nostalgic whenever they catch sight of it. 

Fender American Ultra Stratocaster Electric Guitar (Arctic Pearl): Another guitar he bought because it was very pretty (let’s be real, that’s the reason he bought all of them). Achieved critical acclaim as a fan favorite when Ken-chan grabbed it out of his hands on stage and threatened to beat a belligerent drunk out of the venue with it. She was talked out of it after Ru-kun said she’d have to pay for a new one if she busted it over some guy’s head. 

Gibson Les Paul Traditional Pro V Flame Top Electric Guitar (Blueberry Burst): Super glossy beautiful guitar with a great sound. Recorded the albums Thanks I Hate it Here and Good News for People Who Love Bad News with this guitar. He also gives it away in MDNSY Ch 39 to Shouto, who treasures this beauty as it deserves, even if he really doesn’t know how to play it all that well. 

Gretsch “Stump-O-Matic” Electromatic Electric Guitar (White): He really likes to play this one during live shows, very versatile and unfussy. Played it all throughout the ‘Scrubs Unite’ tour and eventually gives it away to Izuku in MDNSY Ch 38(?) and reclaims it briefly in FLW Ch 29 to play Say It Ain’t So. 

Gibson Lzzy Hale Signature Explorerbird Electric Guitar (Cardinal Red): His guitar for the “I’m never going to Hosu again” show Makoto dragged them all to during their hiatus in MDNSY Ch 15, aka the guitar he serenaded Tensei with 🤣 Also recorded Glass Onion Heart on this guitar, bc I love the idea of him playing Misery Business on this baby. He also posed for his magazine cover for Sound & Sundry in FLW Ch 20 with this guitar. 

D’Angelico Premier Series Gramercy LS Acoustic Guitar (Matte Sky Burst): I call this the Limitless guitar cause it’s just the perfect color to match his eyes lol. He went out and bought this just to record the acoustic album Tensei guilt-tripped him into making, Don’t You Know Who I (Think) I Am. Also serenaded Hawks with it during the No Scrubs radio interview with Present Mic in FLW Chapter 23. 

Fender American Pro II Stratocaster Electric Guitar (Miami Blue): Very cool vintage blue guitar he recorded Death Before Decaf on, bc I love the very neon 90′s era look and I love the idea of him playing Nirvana/Weezer/3EB tributes (even if no one knows they’re tributes) on it even more. It’s also Yui’s favorite guitar, for obvious reasons. Did he buy it because he knows it’s her favorite color? Probably. He already promised he’d never sell off his collection (gifting them is another story) but he especially promised not to part with this one. It’s a legacy guitar that’s going to end up in the hands of someone special someday (aka Eri lol)

Fender H.E.R Stratocaster (Chrome Glow): I have been told rather reliably by the mysteriously large amount of friends I have in indie bands that there’s no such thing as too many guitars, and on a related note, no such thing as too many Stratocasters. I am obsessed with H.E.R’s stratocaster and I can 100% envision it being custom made by Fender for Ru-Kun once No Scrubs reaches the international critical acclaim they deserve. He names it Infinity, and records the album Infinity on High with it. In recorded performances for the album he alternates between this one and the Gibson Explorerbird. 

Duesenberg USA Starplayer Electric Guitar (Crimson Red): Yet another stunning guitar with a very vintage vibe. I was so torn on whether I liked the black one or the red one more bc both are so beautiful. Let’s be real he probably buys both but plays the red one live just because it’s pretty and shiny and red always reminds him of Hawks’s wings ♡ Records the May Death Never Stop You album on this baby, and plays the tour of the same name. Also the guitar 

Taylor 614ce Special-Edition Grand Auditorium Acoustic-Electric Guitar: Has a lot of Feelings™ and goes out and drops 3k on this baby just because it reminds him of Hawks and that’s got him feeling a way and records his second acoustic album with it. He absolutely plays a lot of Anti-Hero on it, just bc the brand name lol 

[life-on-35mm]

2 cameras - 2 film stocks - 1 subject

Kodak Gold 200 vs Adox CHS 100 II

[songmingisthighs]

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

<< previous | m.list | next >>

ch. viii - if you phrase it like that

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

San readjusted his bucket hat and made sure the collar of his zipped up track jacket covered his lower face well. He angrily shoved his phone into the pocket of his track pants, the article he just read lingering in his brain, the words floating and penetrating into his brain so damn annoyingly. As much as he wanted to tell his friends that he wasn't affected by the words he just read, he know he couldn't do that. He couldn't even convince himself.

At this point, San didn't even knew where he was going. As an heir, the bus isn't something he rode often and the stops seemed unfamiliar. But he can't deny the nostalgia it brought.

With a hand holding onto a metal pole, he closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly. His mind traveled to the time when he was still in high school, having fun with you. Since you both were technically still children, your parents wouldn't let either of you drive a car and he can only cash in so much favours from his older sister. San's parents aren't like most rich parents (i.e. most of his uncles and aunts), they're humble, loving, and considerate, something that they had always hoped San would inherit. Luckily, he did because of their parenting. So he loved doing what his other cousins would call "slumming it"; taking the bus, eating at roadside stands, having fast food, going to a public academy, it was fun for him. Maybe mostly because he got you by his side.

He reminisced about the days before he even found out that he wasn't 100% human. It was such a shit predicament he found himself in. It wasn't like he had been adamantly covering up the fact that he's actually a hybrid and not a human like how his parents have always advertised him to be, he didn't even know that he still had some wolf hybrid attributes. Heck, not even his parents or his paediatrician knew. Eighteen years of not showing symptoms and it took sex to unlock his animalistic side. It was... A nasty shock to him.

So for the life of him, he couldn't understand why he found himself in your old neighbourhood. San only needed to go straight, then take two right turns, and a left, walk three buildings down, and he'll arrive at your old apartment.

The last time he was in the building, he was frantically calling his parents, coming clean to them that he had managed to accidentally almost make you lose your life whilst simultaneously losing his virginity. Who knew sex could be so gory?

Ever since then, he would sometimes secretly visit the area, feeling bad for leaving you without saying anything. But he was mortified. He had been mortified ever since. If he were to meet up with you again, what would he say? "Sorry I almost killed you, I couldn't live with myself after knowing what I did. My parents had to pump me full of meds so that I wouldn't lash out more and even hurt myself. I'm not making excuses, I just want you to know that I've been punishing myself and suffering to the point that as of today, I can't feel my feelings or even understand my emotions." That would be pathetic.

"Move," someone gruffly said as he walked past San, bumping his into his shoulder harshly.

San met eyes with the guy who was glaring at him with much disdain, "Stupid loser, standing in the middle of the way like he owns the whole damn world," he grumbled. San didn't like the way he was described by the guy. That obnoxious, rude bastard doesn't even know him yet he can comfortably say that he's a loser. How dare he?

Without thinking much, San shoved the guy, not minding how hard he did it. But it was hard enough that the guy stumbled back a couple steps. San said nothing but stare at the guy as if challenging him, an aura of arrogance surrounding him. With a growl, the other guy stepped forward and smack San's hat off of his head, "Dickhead," he spat at San.

Hearing that, San's fists balled and he was so close to punching the guy when a hand reached forward and held his wrist.

San was about to tell the person off as he turned to look at the side but his eyes widened when he was met with your worried face. His balled-up fist almost immediately loosen up once he processed that you were touching him. "San, stop it," you said in a hushed tone, "You can't afford another headline," you reminded him.

Blinking a couple of times, San seemed to regain his senses and realized that you were indeed correct, he can't afford to be careless. As San calm down, you reached down to grab his hat and turned to look at the pissed-off dude who was still glaring at San and now at you as well. You scowled at him, "Do you really wanna feel this guy's punch? Trust me, he was barely trying when he sent you 10 steps back."

Luckily enough, the guy only scoffed before walking away somewhere as he muttered something about people being rude.

Ironic.

"Thanks,"

Your head snapped to San who was looking at you with... no expression? A neutral expression? "I... Thanks..." he trailed, seemingly not knowing what to say. You don't know what exactly is the expression on his face, but it was nothing you've ever seen on him. When you both were still dating, San was probably one of the most expressive people you've ever had the pleasure of knowing. He liked telling you just how he was feeling and sometimes he doesn't even have to, you'd be able to read his feelings clearly by simply looking at him. That's San. That was YOUR San. You don't know this person in front of you with the facade, but maybe San has changed that much over the past several years.

Slowly, you nodded at his admission of gratitude, not knowing how to react yourself. "Yeah... You said thanks already," you pointed out. When you planned your day, you hadn't planned on meeting your ex again so soon after the party just the day before. Heck, you can still count the hours from when you saw him last. Isn't it funny how someone can just disappear from your life with no trace and without saying anything and before you know it, you meet him twice in a span of less than 24 hours? It was definitely not ha-ha funny but it was something along the lines of a man getting kicked in the balls by a steel boot-wearing gorilla.

You both just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do. There were a lot of things San wanted to tell you but he doesn't know where to begin. You were also waiting for him to say something. After all, it was he who did all the damage and all the leaving. You couldn't even get a simple text back and after months of trying, you have kind of given up the idea of conversing with him again. Maybe, without you realizing it, you had given up on the idea of being with him again.

You waited but he still wouldn't say anything. Now you both were simply staring dumbly at each other.

Seeing that wasting more time is pointless, you simply rolled your eyes and walked away without saying anything.

This surprised San, however. "Wait!" He called out, trailing after you, "Why'd you just walk away like that?" he asked. He didn't even realize that he was asking the wrong question because he was just basically baiting you. A smirk broke on your face as you cockily answered his question, "I've been wanting to ask you that question myself these past five years." That seemed to effectively caught San off guard but at the same time, it triggered the memory of how witty you are and how because of that, your relationship with him was genuinely fun and interesting, because he got to go toe-to-toe with you and someone was finally able to answer him back with something other than 'bitch', 'asshole', 'pussy', or 'dickwad'.

Remind him to buy a book of fresh insults to give his friends.

San furrowed his eyebrows as the corners of his lips dropped to a pout, "Look, I'm here, aren't I? I saw you last night at the party and I would have approached you to talk but you were with Jongho and my cousin Seungcheol of all people," he hissed. You stopped in your tracks to turn and glare at him, "Yeah, I was at the party and I was talking to someone who showed interest in me. And of course, I attended the party with my BEST FRIEND who stuck by my side after some rich asshole took my virginity and then hurt me physically and never even bothered to explain himself," you spat out, voice getting louder with each word. San winced at the volume of your voice and also in addition to the stares people were giving the both of you from what they accidentally heard.

Thinking that you both might need to talk in a more private place, San reached to gently take your arm in his grip, "Why don't we talk somewhere private, huh? I don't think it's a good idea to be talking about this in such a public space," he said, his eyes drooping to give you a sad look. Unfortunately for him, the look no longer worked on you as you immediately pulled your arm away from his grip and took a step back. San stared at you, confused, but truthfully, he was more focused on the fact that he had managed to feel your skin on his once again even for a brief second. He hadn't thought of how much he missed feeling you until you pulled away from him. "I don't know about you, San, but I planned on getting some things from my old storage unit in the apartment and even then, I don't plan on having you sticking by me the whole time. In fact, I don't plan on having you in my life anymore so please, for your sake and mine, do what you do best, and leave without saying anything. You've been so good and so consistent at that, that's literally the only good thing you did," you spat out.

You weren't sure whether or not you meant your words, but just as how San was affected by you, you were also affected by him. Maybe not in the same sense, but it doesn't matter anymore. You hated that even after all these years he was still affecting you without having to do much. Because no matter what kind of pain he had inflicted on you in the past, that was only one time and you know damn well that it was not in San's nature to hurt anyone no matter how he feels about them. No matter how hurt you were that he left so suddenly, it could never replace the fact that he provided you with some of the best memories you have ever had.

Once again, you found yourself staring at San, waiting for him to do something, say something. But he didn't. "You've changed too much," you said with a shook of your head as a sign of disapproval. That struck San deeply because while he realized that he had changed a lot and most of it was because he was under heavy medication, he couldn't help but feel his heart breaking when you looked at him with a look of disapproval.

He could only watch as you turn your back on him and walk away, not being able to move after the encounter he just had.

Yes, it hurt him to hear you say such things about him right to his face, especially the part about you planning on not having him in your life anymore, but he couldn't help but look at the silver lining. At least he got to see you again, he got to hear your voice, heck he even got you to defend and prevent him from doing something stupid in public. It felt bittersweet but the pain was good he guess. After all, he never thought that he could feel his heart clenching again after so long of being void of emotions and not having control over them when they do show up.

taglist :

@rdiamond2727 @90s-belladonna @kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @miaatiny @shinotani @jayb17 @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @bbymatz @yunhorights @tinybinnie @blaaiissee @yunhobug @kwanisms @yoongiigolden @kpopnightingale @maddiebabyxoxo @dea-nimus @meowmeowminnie @x-bluee @itsbeeble @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @starjoongie1117 @x-woozi @jwnghyuns @marvelous-imagines-for-all @baguette-atiny @jessi-outdated @dogsongy @kirooz @ateezourstars @memorymonster @yoonguurt @atinytinaa @naiify

@justbaozi25 @idjitscentral @angelicyeo @jackinmyarea @cutie-wooyo

@glitterystarlightmeow

[prettyiwa]

ダイヤのA Act II | Ch. 100

[the-babbering-dabber]

Tagged by @goodpointsandbadpoints !!! omg HI and Thank you! teeheeheeeee!!🌻🌻

you 🤝 me single handedly creating a knacknics re encyclopedia

Last song I listened to: Tracy Chapman's Fast Car. luke combs butchered version was playing and I decided that wasn't acceptable so I quickly connected my phone and played the original version. our Lord, Savior and queen Tracy Chapman. this song helped me survive my art class. I was in that room for so long, even longer after I took an electric nail file to my charcoal portrait while feverish and delusional.

Vergil's Aeneid, Book 1, II. 441-468 is also such a good song, 100/10 recommend. it feels like ur literally standing in ancient troy

Currently Watching: ive been in a funk lately for watching things but I've been watching Black Sails with my roommate and bestie. unfortunately it's at a pause until the semester starts up again but it's really giving me the gay pirates I crave. I spotted that bisexual a mile away. I really went 'i know what u are👁️👁️🫵' and was right.

I also just saw horizon ch. 1 and that was a cool western. the costumes and settings were stunning

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: god I'm always down for a SWEET TREEAAAT but I also enjoy savory stuff, fuck me Up with a lovely steak or some Mediterranean cuisine

Current Obsession: I've been playing re4 lately and am In Love. Luis and Leon should kiss as a treat and the Luis lives aus are giving me the disabled rep I crave and deserve. I'm also falling back into my red dead redemption 2 phase and am always enjoying the witcher. I've also been in a soapghost hyperfixation for about 1.5 yrs which is a record. serennedy is distracting me tho rn

I'm tagging: hm ok I don't really interact with people a lot so I'll go with my recentish mutuals: @highball66 @colesabi @cheshire18cat @silvercap @tirsynni @sparkie96 @thebrandywine

and literally anyone else who sees this and wants to do it! no pressure if you don't want to/already have/whatever

[afterhours-system]

omg transbipolar tips please? (if that's ok ofc!) if u do ty sooooo much (and no worries if not! ty anyway 4 being on tumblr :3)

hiii hello :33 heres some transbipolar tips from a cisBP II guything :D

general tips!!

track 👏 your👏 mood 👏!! i'd suggest one mood tracker for the moods/emotions you're actually experiencing (to track progress for example) (i use Daylio, it's great!) & one for the moods/episodes you want to experience! for BP specific moods (mainly depression/mania) i use Bipolar UK!

exaggerate your regular daily moods! if you've been in a good mood all day but suddenly feel a bit down play it up! i've gone from cruising in a very high mood (perhaps even bordering on hypomanic) to absolutely crashing for days because of one bad mood swing :P

hypomania & mania tips!!! (note: ive yet to experience a 100% manic episode, so i dont have as much personal experience there!)

hypomania: hypomania is characterized, for me, by very very high energy, high productivity (but never finishing anything), lots of inspiration & creative drive and feeling wayyy more social than usual!

also, completely losing track of my finances, needing less sleep (like. 2-3hrs & i feel well rested where i usually need 8-9,,), less need for food, almost no actual feelings of hunger (once in a month long ep i only ate One Piece Of Bread per day with the occasional (once a week max) pizza & was "fine") & being more open to drinking (and/or considering trying to get my hands on 'harder' stuff like psychedelics) where i usually straight up dont like alcohol!

i'd recommend going off of what's alr there for you; so if you notice you've been in a pretty good mood recently, say that's a hypomanic episode now! go out a lot (clubbing if you want to/can!), make efforts to meet new ppl & make friends, be very motivated & high energy and do everything (and i mean everything!) in excess (talk fast af & never stop talking, be restless and pace around, constanty occupy yourself w/ smth bcs otherwise you'll be understimulated af)

for mania: crank up everything about hypomania by about 300%. it's like there's a million bees inside your bones, you feel restless cant be still do a thousand things in a day, lose all sense of responsibility & become extremely reckless, either due to your extremely elevated mood or because of delusions or other psychotic symptoms.

oh yeah, psychosis! in a mixed ep i spent a day convinced i had somehow accidentally ingested alcohol (i hadnt)! intrusive thoughts, extreme anxiety around it, physical, olfactory & taste-based hallucinations around it, the whole package.

other BP based psychosis ive experienced: visual hallucinations (insects & spiders for me), jumbled & rapid thoughts (it felt different to adhd fast thoughts it was so weird lol)

see this article (link) for other psychotic symptoms during manic (or depressive!) episodes in pwBP!

i'd probably recommend "picking a theme" for delusions & halluciantions & the like, to make it easier to focus on them? tho i havent experienced psychosis enough to know if i have a 'theme' :P

depressive episodes!!

my least favorite (also, i feel like more things are known abt depression) (ALSO- i have seasonal affective disorder too which influences my BP episodes)

depressive episodes mean extreme lethargy for me. im tired 24/7 no matter how much sleep i get (& i'll be getting way more than usual. 10-12 hrs on average with the occasional 13 hrs 🥶).

very little movement. physical, mental, emotional, metaphyical. i often get stuck in bed, if not physically then mentally. spending my day anywhere but in my bed will feel weird & wrong. i will feel pretty numb/wont have access to my emotions anymore & often compltely stop thinking abt & processing my day-to-day life

^ this usually results in strong amnesia around depressive episodes but that might be a plural thing so. take it w a grain of salt lol

depressive episodes also make me self isolate as fuck. im talking forgoing my physical needs if theres a Chance i'll run into my roommate.

oh, yeah, also i just stop taking care of my basic physical as well as i do when balanced. i need to be starving to be able to get up & eat smth, & god forbid i want to actually cook smth rather than eating frozen pizza or eating out/ordering in

i also usually stop doing anything more creative than daydreaming (hashtag immersive daydreaming gang/silly) but even those are less immersive and less frequent. i'll be artblocked 24/7, have no inspiration or motivation and probably wont even miss drawing :P

& thats it! i hope you can find smth usefull in my rambling :3c /gen

and good luck & have fun with your transition!! you have my full support :D /gen

[davetada]

Gabe and his leica iiic

Pacific Palisades, CA

[yanny-77]

Sweet Waters of Spring Part II

SJM Romance Week Day 7+1: Sorry it’s late, please forgive me

Summary: Azriel takes care of a problem while Gwyn sleeps. The next morning, Azriel comes face to face with his feelings.

Friends to Lovers

Only One Tent

Everyone Knows but Them

Fated Mates

SJM Series: ACOTAR

Primary Ship: Gwynriel

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 2/2

Word Count: 5,554

Notes: Technically, this is a complete work, but if I get 100 Kudos, I’ll write a third chapter

I’ll be honest, the is one of my favorite works I’ve written. It’s got smut and tenderness all rolled into one. 🥰

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Excerpt:

Gwyn was nearly senseless as he demanded pleasure from her body. The sound of her begging him to let her come had release racing down his spine. He imagined her head tipping back, exposing her long, elegant neck as he sucked a bruise. The purple mark was beautiful on her pale skin because it meant that she was his and his alone. Mine. Mine. Mine, his heart seemed to chant.

Read Ch 2 Now on AO3

Thanks to @poisonivy206 for your help with this!!

@sjmromanceweek

[funwithcameras]

Behind NOTL Retail Sept 2022 by Bill Smith

[karikarasuno]

sonder ch. iii

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Smith

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Only), Oral Sex (m!receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Regret after Sex, Alcohol Consumption, Awkward Tension, Arguing, References to COVID Lockdown

Word Count: 10k

song(s) for the chapter: pretend by eloise, jaded by miley cyrus, breaking point by leon thomas

a/n: this chapter took me what feels like forever to write. i had writers block almost 100% of this chapter lol but it’s done at last. it’s pretty angsty though so strap in.

chapter ii | chapter iii | chapter iv

“What are you doing here?” You were positive you were having some kind of hallucination. A delusion brought upon by your temporary forgotten loneliness. To remind you of the guilty conscience that was never far away from you. But he was here, you knew in the crease between his eyebrows that manifested after years of concentration. And in the hopeful laced defeat in his dark eyes. It was real and you couldn’t wrap your head around it because it seemed unfathomable. Because, “how did you find me?”

The only person who knew where you were was, “your mom gave me your address.” He tightened his grip on the strap of his duffel bag as you didn’t make any move to let him in. Still confused. Still partially convinced he was conjured up by your deluded imagination. 

“Why?” was all you could manage. You were still tipsy from the wine tasting. Your heels still strapped around your ankles and the balls of your feet ached as you applied all your weight to them. You were woefully unprepared for this. Slightly terrified of the universe’s ability to shock and punish you as soon as you felt some semblance of contentment. 

“Not too sure why she gave it to me. Probably because she wanted us to talk as much as I do.” He shifted uncomfortably. And while there was a pleasant breeze this evening, it was still warm. Too warm to be out in his hoodie and jeans. 

“No,” you said, before you could think of saying anything else. “I meant why are you here?” 

There was judgment in your tone that you hadn’t meant to apply. And he flinched which caused your body to soften with sympathy. “Can I come in?”

Your hand tightened around the doorknob, but you moved to the side. And now he had a clear shot into your home. It was in slight disarray. Your work bag was thrown on your sofa and a blanket was bunched up in the corner. You left your coffee mug from this morning on the table and mail that remained unopened littered your island. 

He took it all in. Remnants of only you to be found. Which left a pitiful feeling in your stomach at the realization that your house together back home was probably littered with reminders of you. You left almost everything behind. Including him. And a shattering that you had poorly taped together beneath your sternum was beginning to unravel. 

He dropped his bag on the floor by the dining table. You bought it from a thrift store a few weeks back. It was small and round, worn with age but charming with the designs etched into the wood around it. You centered it in front of your bay window, perfectly snug by your bookcase. 

He glanced over half filled shelves, new books and old ones were placed haphazardly there until you decided how you would organize them. So far that was left on the back burner. He grabbed a novel you recently published. A mystery novel by a young author who you spent weeks trying to convince to take your publishing deal. Annie Leonhart was talented and you knew if you didn’t nab her someone else would, but she was particular about many things. She made Nile’s life hell for months, but it was worth it seeing the rave reviews as she slid onto the bestselling list with ease. 

“I read this on the plane,” he said, thumbing through the paperback. “Really good. I didn’t see the ending coming, even though all the signs were there.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, locking the door behind you but not moving towards him. Distance was your only safety net at the moment. “I was a little mad that I didn't put it together sooner.”

“So was I,” he said, finally looking at you. And you sensed something deeper. His roundabout way of saying he was angry with you too. Which you couldn’t blame him for. You didn’t exactly leave with a warning after your fight about your job. 

“I miss you,” he added, tossing the book onto the dining table. Two steps towards you. You locked your knees though, blocking your ability to meet him halfway. Tired of always having to meet him halfway. But you didn’t have to this time. Because his hand was on your cheek soon enough. Warmth radiated from his palm. Your heart skipped and then slowed, a familiar sense of relaxation numbing your limbs because you missed him too. You thoughtlessly pressed your cheek into his hand, eyes fluttering closed and you were smacked with a wave of emotion. Tears built in your throat, but you swallowed around them, blinking them away from your lash line when they stung there for a brief moment. 

“Onyank–”

“No,” he placed his other hand on your other cheek and forced you to look at him, “I miss you. Just say you miss me too.”

Your lips parted but nothing came out, your mind awfully blank and you couldn’t bring yourself to say it back. Your throat was closing around nothing and his eyes pleaded with you. But you couldn’t do it.

“Please.” You’ve never heard him sound so small, like a child. Suddenly the six years you had together were lost and the only version of him was when you first met. Youthful, hopeful, and tired. Your hands rose to grab his wrists, securing him against your skin and squeezing. “I missed you too.”

There was a long moment of just the two of you staring at one another, neither of you knowing what to do or where to go. For so long, things between the two of you were natural and seamless. You never had to worry about overstepping or crossing boundaries. But with the familiarity running so deeply between the two of you, it felt strange to be so hesitant in a moment like this. To be afraid of how the other might react.

“Why did you leave?” His hands moved down to cradle your neck, his fingers sifting through the hair at your nape. 

“Not right now.” You closed your eyes again, incapable of gathering the words to even explain to him the emotional turmoil you’ve been going through for the last two years. “I can’t.”

“Okay,” he said, grip tightening as if he were trying to make sure you were real. That he actually found you after you virtually ghosted him for months. You never answered his calls or texts. Just cut him off completely as if you never existed to each other. “Fine, we won’t. Not right now.”

You could only nod, stepping towards him, suddenly needing to feel him against your body. He was always so warm. You never understood how someone could run so hot, but he was perfect since you always seemed to be nothing short of freezing. He pulled you against him at the same time as you shifted into his arms. He tilted your face upwards, thumb pressing beneath your chin. You knew what he wanted. What he was silently asking for. And the alcohol that riddled your body stopped you from thinking rationally. That paired with your heightening emotions had you leaning upwards, so that your noses brushed one another. This wasn’t a good choice, a sane one, given everything that has happened. But you needed him in that moment. Needed to remember one of the reasons you fell so deeply in love with him in the first place. 

The distance closed between the two of you, but it felt like time was halting as soon as your lips barely touched his. They were just as full and soft as you remembered. He always kissed you like he knew exactly what he was doing and how to have your knees faltering and your lungs devoid of your own air. And suddenly, everything was rushed and hurried. You clung to him with desperation, your hands twisted in the thick fabric of his hoodie and you glued yourself to him. He wasn’t expecting your sudden need, so he stumbled and caught himself on the wall behind you with a hand as your back fell against it. 

“Wait,” he breathed, breaking the kiss before you could deepen it. Just breathing against your lips in gentle puffs of air. Your head rested against the wall, his hand slipping from where it was tangling in your hair to rest at the base of your throat as he tried to keep you at a somewhat safe distance. “We shouldn’t.”

“No,” you agreed, regaining some of your breath, “but I want to. I want you.”

Your hands drifted down his abdomen, bunching up his hoodie where it stopped above his waistband. There was a peek of his underwear. Calvin Klein. After he started making more money, it was all he bought for ages. You traced the elastic with a fingertip, outlining each letter until you stopped at the button of his jeans. 

“Tell me to stop,” you said, pinching the denim and waiting for him to stop you. But he dropped his forehead onto your shoulder instead, using his lips to guide his way up the curve of your neck to your ear. 

“I won’t.” He kissed the space below your ear, his hand finding your waist and tugging the fabric of your dress into his fist. You took that green light without hesitation. You fumbled with it at first, hands suddenly shaking with anticipation. But he kept leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder as you unzipped his jeans. He was hard, his erection pressed into your palm as you slid your hand beneath his boxer briefs. He groaned against your skin, the sound so guttural and deep that it made your knees weak. 

You dropped to them as soon as you felt your weight give. The wood dug into your skin sharply, but you didn’t seem to care or notice. Not when you tugged down his clothes and exposed him. He was thick and long, and it was always difficult for you to take all of him into your mouth. But your mouth immediately watered with the memory of him. It’s been a while since you’ve been touched, even by yourself, and so your thighs clenched at the idea of being full again. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm. Your lips wrapped around his head, using the spit that gathered beneath your tongue to make the glide easier. His breath was falling from his lips in stuttered gasps, and when you glanced up at him he held his hoodie beneath his chest. Allowing you the perfect view of the flex of his abs whenever his breath got caught in his lungs. 

You hollowed out your cheeks, eyes closing again to focus on not choking when you fit more of him into your mouth. There was a gentle guiding hand on the back of your head resting there but heavy. When he pinched at the base of your neck you knew he was close, and he wanted you to pause. To give him a second. But you ignored it, pressing down further until your nose hit the base of his cock and he made a choking sound in the back of his throat when you swallowed around him. 

Instead of giving you another warning, he just pulled you off of him, using his grip on your neck to tug you backwards and you breathed out a relieved sigh you hadn’t realized was stuck in your chest. 

“Where’s your room?” It was a weird question to ask. Because you forgot he had never been here before. Momentarily forgotten that this wasn’t like any other night between the two of you. And that he was a visitor in your home and not a permanent resident. Where he shared a bed with you and half of a closet. You didn’t have his toothbrush in your medicine cabinet, or the wave brush he used every morning beside your perfume. It felt strange, this gap in time that you couldn’t account for accurately. 

But still, you rose to your feet, hand finding his wrist and telling him, “it’s this way.”

Your bed was unmade with your pajamas thrown at the end when you got dressed this morning. That seemed like years ago when you were debating between one shoe and another. When you paused at the side of your mattress, Onyankopon was behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips found your ear, his voice nothing but a rasp when he said, “sit down.”

He helped you turn around to face him, fingers at the hem of your dress and dragging the fabric up your body and over your head. He threw the dress to the floor, splaying a big hand across your abdomen as he pushed you onto the bed. You bounced carefully from the impact, your hands keeping you from falling straight onto your back. He placed a knee between your open legs forcing you to scoot backwards. And he started at your feet. His fingers skillfully unclasped your heels from each ankle, letting them drop to the floor with dull thuds against the fluffy rug you had there. 

His fingers danced up your thighs, massaging the fat of your hips in his hands before discarding your underwear easily. He took little time undressing himself. Eyes trained on the contours of your body the entire time which had your skin heating up under his scrutiny. When you moved up the bed to allow him more room he followed after you, crawling between your spread legs and grabbing your ankle to drag you towards him. Your head fell flat against the mattress, eyes focusing on your fan overhead before he used two fingers to press at your slit and dragged them upwards until he found your clit. 

“Shit,” you hissed between your teeth when he rubbed gentle circles against you. You felt yourself dripping and he played you effortlessly until you were writhing and pleading for more. 

“You always got so wet for me,” he groaned as he inserted one finger and you clenched around it. “God, I missed this.”

He pumped his finger in and out, taking his time before he inserted a second. He directed his focus to your g spot, using the angle to bully the sensitive tissue there until your heartbeat was in your throat. You immediately reached between your thighs and gripped his forearm. You pushed at him, but he was stronger than you and he wanted you to come on his fingers. You could tell he was determined to make you finish like this first. “Just fuck me, please.” There were tears springing from your tear ducts and you whined when he pressed his thumb to your clit. 

“Just gimme one, baby, and I’ll fuck you just how you like it.” The thought was dizzying, and the pressure from his fingers toying with you had your legs shaking. Over and over and over until you were drooling into his hand and the sloppy sounds of your pussy were the only thing accompanying your increased pitch in moans. 

“Fuck yes, that’s it. So pretty,” he groaned when you finally came with a gasp. Your hands scrambled to fist the comforter. You were drifting, his rambling was distant as you attempted to control the rush of endorphins flooding your system. He worked you through it, slowing down his motions until you melted into the bed and you could only blink up at him tearfully. 

He licked his fingers clean after he retracted them from your spasming cunt. Your sweat was cooling on your skin and the fan circling above your head sent goosebumps down your body. But you didn’t have much longer to regain your senses. Not when he took both of your thighs in his hands and folded you easily. His face was right above you, gorgeous as ever with his pupils dilated and his bottom lip secured between his teeth. It was always so insane to you how stunning he was. How effortless his beauty always seemed to be. And he somehow chose you. Until he didn’t.

You were sore as hell when you awoke the next morning. Your thighs tightened whenever you turned and your muscles screamed every time you tried to stretch beneath your covers. The sun slipped between your blinds, which only reminded you of how you needed to invest in blackout curtains. Your internal clock always woke you up with the sunrise, regardless of how much – or how little – you slept the night before. 

Last night felt like some vivid dream. You would’ve sworn that it didn’t happen and it was just a product of all the wine and exhaustion you were experiencing if it weren’t for the arm draped over your waist and the soft snores filling up your usually silent bedroom. You froze, suddenly wide awake. 

That was a mistake. A really big one. And he warned you too. To stop before you got too ahead of yourselves, but you had so little self control. You just wanted him so badly, your brain clouded with yearning and lust. It was hard to say no, not when he looked at you the way he did. Or touched you so tenderly. It brought back all the things you used to feel when you were with him. Before he proposed, and before he started to choose his career over you. 

He was a heavy sleeper. So slipping from out of his grasp was easy enough. Your thighs burned when you stepped into the shower. Muscles so tight and achy. But it was a good ache, the satisfying kind that if you weren’t so caught up in the implications of it all, you would be basking in it. But instead you were all too aware of the questions he would have when he officially woke up. 

Why did you leave? Why haven’t you answered any of my calls or texts? Where do we go from here?

You didn’t know. But that wasn’t a sufficient enough answer, especially given the circumstances of everything. You didn’t know how to tell him that you drifted apart. That your dreams were no longer in line with his and that the paths that life was stitching out for the two of you were just heading in vastly different directions. It seemed like not enough reason to get up and leave from one day to the next. And that you would sound crazy for it. You already felt crazy enough on the inside, but voicing that out loud would make you feel certifiable. You weren’t sure he would even understand. Because he seemed so happy with the little life you created so far. Without even realizing that he was the one leaving you behind. 

The water was lukewarm by the time you stepped onto your bath mat. There was movement from the other side of the door that you could hear now that the water was no longer running. You were very much aware of the predicament you made for yourself. But you wondered, if under a different set of circumstances, you wouldn’t have let him stay. Or slept with him again. You believe it would’ve turned out this way anyway. Because as much as you tried to avoid it, you still loved him. And you missed him so desperately, that even if you hadn’t drank for most of the day before you would have still let him in and led him to your bed. 

You slipped into something casual. Fitting over your head an oversized t-shirt and some slightly ripped jeans. He wasn’t in bed by the time you came out. Instead, you found him in the living room looking through the duffel bag he left there the night before. There was palpable tension circulating the two of you. Neither of you knew where to start or what to say. You knew that he wanted to talk about it. And all that it encompassed, but that’s not how you wanted to start off your morning. 

“Breakfast?” You asked, stuffing your hands into your front pockets and waiting.

“Hm?” He was still groggy with sleep, eyes blinking at you almost confused and a little glazed over from having just woken up.

“Do you wanna go out for breakfast? There’s this little diner not too far from here. They serve chilaquiles,” you said hopefully. You dangled the idea of his favorite breakfast right below his nose. He hardly ever passed up the opportunity for it whenever you suggested going to the Mexican restaurant back home, especially after a late night. And you were also hoping he didn’t see completely through your attempt at steering the day away from why he actually came here. Away from feelings and questions and difficult conversations. So you were grateful when he said, “yeah, that sounds good. Let me go get ready.”

You waited curled up and tense on a corner of your couch. You couldn’t stop fidgeting with your hand, primarily with your empty ring finger – massaging the knuckle right below it. There were texts on your phone. One from Moblit, a link to an article this author you and him particularly enjoyed shitting on. You weren’t surprised that some old tweets of her were dug up that only confirmed your previous suspicions of her being controversial.

You sent a quick: I knew I hated her for a reason, just didn’t think it would be this bad

And he quickly responded: Can’t say that I’m surprised though

You left it at that, hearing Onyankopon turn off the shower and move around the bathroom. You opened the groupchat with Erwin and Levi next. There was a singular text from Erwin about twenty-five minutes ago asking if you were up to get breakfast. A part of you wanted to ignore the text and pretend you were still asleep. Using sleeping in as an excuse to avoid them. Another part of you despised the fact that you even wanted to lie in the first place. They didn’t really deserve that when they have been nothing but friendly and honest with you. 

You settled on: Something came up, rain check?

Before you could wait for a response to come through, Onyankopon stepped into the living room smelling just like he always has. For some reason, you would’ve expected that part of him to change. The part that always wore that rich, musky cologne. With a hint of vanilla. 

“Ready?” You asked, legs still folded beneath your body, hesitant to move.  

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You slipped on your sneakers where they had been left by the door from the other day and grabbed your tote bag from where it was laying on the opposite end of the sofa. 

The morning walk to the diner was done in silence. It didn’t take torturously long to get there but with the tension as thick as it was it felt like a millennia before the green door of the restaurant came into view. It wasn’t as full as you expected it to be and you were seated as soon as you greeted the hostess. A little table for two right by the window. The sun was on the opposite side of the restaurant so it wasn’t unbearably warm where the two of you were sitting. You ordered a cappuccino when your waiter came around. And Onyankopon ordered a regular coffee. Black with two sugars. 

“How’s your new job been going?” He asked it through a tight jaw and he wasn’t looking at you. Just at the way his spoon spun in his mug after he mixed in some half n half from the container by the ketchup. 

“Good,” you said, shifting in your seat and fidgeting with your hands in your lap. “Really good, actually.”

“You like it so far?”

You nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek and saying, “It’s exactly what I wanted. It’s been…satisfying.”

“That’s good to hear.” 

The waiter took your orders. He ordered the chilaquiles like you knew he would’ve and you got the smoked salmon omelet. Afterwards, sticky silence was what you were left in. The two of you were being cordial. Very much unlike who you were as a couple. The genuine fluidity between you was gone. 

“I’ve been writing a lot since you left,” he said, staring out the window. “A few things here and there, but nothing complete.”

“You writing for anyone in particular?” He usually wrote for artists, and helped produce a lot of music in general. He was seemingly a genius when it came down to it. 

“No,” he shrugged, finishing off his coffee and sliding it towards the center of the table. You shifted awkwardly in your seat, nerves sliding up into your chest and filling you with discomfort. Words were trudging like mud up your throat. Thick and difficult to wade through. He seemed to be just as uncomfortable, with both of you knowing what you should be talking about but neither wanting to be the one to broach the topic first. 

Last time you were together you threw your engagement ring at him. The tinkly clattering of it still resonated around your skull when you thought back to it. He was just about to leave for another business trip. The argument started when you made an offhand comment about how he was never home because he must have a secret family on the other coast. His reaction was unexpected, the sudden outburst accusing you of being inconsiderate of his job and all the time and energy it takes to be successful. That one in particular stung because it felt like he was insinuating you weren’t successful. But it didn’t hurt as much as when he said, “the reason we have this house is because of me. Your ring, that you love so much, is because of my work and what I do. So maybe don’t throw around shitty accusations like that when you know better.” 

You could reason that he was having a particularly bad day that day. Long hours spent in the studio because one of the artists he worked with was known to be quite difficult. And maybe you weren’t enthusiastic at the idea of spending another week alone. Because what good was a house when you were the only one in it. Not when it was meant to be shared. 

So when he boarded his plane the next day– after you told him he could keep the ring– you boarded yours two days later. The entire time he was away neither of you reached out to the other. It was radio silence on both ends, so you could only imagine his surprise when he returned and you were gone. Besides the ring. That sat on the dresser in your bedroom with a note tucked beneath it. 

The server slid the food in front of you, warning you that “the plate is hot, so be careful.”

Conversation was stiff and uncoordinated the entire time you ate. You danced between topics, and stumbled into abrupt lulls when you weren’t sure how to respond. But at least the meal was good, delicious even. You cleaned off your plates, sliding them to the side of the table and stacking them to indicate you were finished. When the server came back with the check, neither of you having asked him to split it, you both reached for it. Just three hands extended towards each other in a very awkward moment. But you dropped yours first, if only to stop the moment from continuing. 

Onyankopon paid. Much like he always did. You didn’t argue it either, fearing that if you mentioned anything remotely close to the fragility of your relationship that it would devolve into a depressing confession of feelings– the ugly ones. And you would rather not begin to cry in a restaurant or in the middle of the sidewalk surrounded by way too many people. That was too mortifying to even think about. 

The afternoon had warmed considerably by the time you walked out, but there was still enough wind cutting around the corners of the buildings for it to be bearable. You were reluctant to go back home, though. Despite the creeping heat, you wanted to stay as far away from home as possible. Because you knew what would happen as soon as the two of you were alone behind closed doors. And you weren’t ready to ‘talk things out.’ 

“The pier isn’t too far from here,” you offered, tugging your bag further up your shoulder. “We can hop on the train or even walk if you want.”

His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets, muscles tense and flexing in his arms which gave away his discomfort– even though his expression remained neutral. You stood beside one another in stiff silence as he contemplated your suggestion. He knew you better than anyone else, so he could tell all you were doing was deflecting and avoiding. It was your default when it came to situations that were tricky or overwhelming. But instead of confronting it, like he usually did, he just said, “that works.”

Work was at the forefront of your mind as you fell into step with each other, and whether it was worth it. This torturous process of falling out of love with someone and choosing to leave rather than fighting to stay. You loved your job. There was a purpose in it that sparked an ambition in you that you lost a while ago. But it was still there; the flame that you thought was blown out only dimmed in comparison to what it used to be. 

“How long is this walk?” He grunted as he stepped around a stroller that’s wheel nearly sent him to his knees. The mother pushing it sent an apology over her shoulder, but it was caught in the wind. You assumed she was in a hurry, as was almost everyone in the city. 

You scoffed out a small laugh. It was humorless when you added, “about 40 minutes.”

“You’re kidding?” He caught your elbow and stopped you in the middle of the sidewalk, earning a disgruntled swear from the person walking behind the two of you briskly. His eyes were wide when you met them and there was genuine surprise written blatantly across his features. Shock looked funny on him. And when you smiled in response it was sincere. 

“I’m not.” You shook your head, stepping towards him to allow a person walking their dog to get around you. “The pier is like 40 minutes walking and maybe a little less than 20 by train.”

“Why would you think I’d want to walk? It's hot as hell today.” There was a small smile tugging at his lips, probably in response to the one you were wearing. And it was strange, the warmth that skidded down your spine, centralizing right where he held onto your bare elbow. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you teased, turning on your heels to the direction of your desired location. “It’s not that bad. We can take the train back to the house if you’re so against it later.”

He seemed to internalize your teasing tone as a challenge, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. “Fine,” punctuated with a dazzling grin. 

Sometimes it was hard to even look at him. A flickering of last night danced across your mind and the warmth returned, but you ignored it. Instead nodding before guiding him once again to your destination. 

You couldn’t describe what being with Onyankopon felt like. There was really no way to explain how or why he made you feel the way he did. Other than that it always felt like summer. You appreciated when the winter started to melt away, the chill being cut to nothing by the endless beams of sunshine. But there was always the rain that accompanied it. And somehow, even when you saw it in the forecast, you never brought an umbrella. With him the unexpected storms never seemed to bother you, the fat drops of water sometimes were enough to blind you but as long as you had him there was nothing to worry about. 

In the beginning you were grateful for the heat. For the opportunity to pull out your shorts and summer dresses. For the ability to shed all of your layers in favor of a select few. It was freeing, like taking off your bra after an exceptionally long day. But sooner rather than later the heat began to become nauseating. And every time you planned on leaving the house felt like a chore. A groan about it being too hot or too humid. And you found yourself wishing for autumn and on some days even the snow. You craved the layers you once longed to shed, so summer became something you despised. When at the start it was all you ever wanted. 

You wondered when Onyankopon became the person you wanted to the person you resented. When being with him began to feel like more of a chore rather than a breath of relief or a presence of comfort. It was painful, trying to walk backwards in the dark to figure out where everything went wrong. But it was unavoidable. There were roots lifting from beneath the ground that were ready for you to trip over along the way. But it needed to be done. 

For now though, the earthy smell of the lake was seeping into the air. The skyscrapers were getting more sparse, and the ferris wheel was peeking through the skyline. Forty minutes, while seeming excruciatingly long, passed by relatively quickly. Only accompanied with small talk here and there, mainly initiated by you when the silence began to feel like too much. 

When you arrived at the enormous wheel, you paid $20 each to ride it. Which you felt immediate regret about. The enclosed pods were smaller than you imagined them to be. And with the two of you sitting on opposite sides, his knees bracketed yours and every small swing had them tightening around your thighs. You were starting to believe that you were claustrophobic. The air that surrounded the two of you was thin and not enough. Because every time you breathed in, it was shallow and left your lungs more deflated with each exhale. 

“The city is nice,” Onyankopon said, eyes locked on the skyline. The sun was at its peak at the moment, the star burning its way down to earth and reflecting off of the water’s surface. There were people out on their boats and many more hanging around the shore to enjoy the weather while it lasted. Especially with autumn so near and the weather dipping into cooler temperatures in the late evening. 

“It’s been good to me,” you said, eyes still stuck on the water even when you could feel his gaze on you as the wheel descended the opposite side. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, knee shifting to intentionally press into your thigh. It forced you to look at him, his eyes boring into you with unidentified emotion. “It looks good on you.” 

By the time you left the pier, the tension between you had reduced itself from being awkward and off-putting to strangely calm. You took the train back home, sitting side by side in familiar comfortable silence. He offered you an earbud and the song that played was unfamiliar to you. You wondered if it was one of his. The lyrics were vaguely ringing a bell in your head. Maybe the one he was tinkering with all day the week before you parted. 

You tried to maintain some distance, but every time the train lurched to a stop or rounded a corner your bodies would press together – knees to shoulders. Neither of you made a move or even an effort to add a few inches between you. It was as if that distance would leave enough room for reality to come crashing in and that you wouldn’t allow. Not when reality would burn through the little progress you had made. At least what you had convinced yourself you had made. 

When you stood up for your stop he reached his hand behind his back in search of you. And, initially, you were going to pretend you didn’t see him because that would be weird. Too much like a past version of yourselves that has been too edited and revised to go back to. But those around you had other plans. An elderly man shouldered into your back unexpectedly, his cane caught between your ankles forcing you forward and grabbing Onyankopon’s hand in order to stabilize yourself. 

Instinctively, he squeezed. His hand was warm and sent a jolt of yearning up your arm that sparked and fizzled around your heart. Awakening a slumbering beast that only visited you on your loneliest nights. You swallowed around nothing and allowed him to guide you off the train and onto the platform. There was an almost numbness settling in your chest as you walked hand in hand back to your house. The awkwardness was starting to trickle in again. But you were probably the only one noticing it. Especially with the way his hand remained steady against your palm.

The garden outside of Levi and Erwin’s home came into view first. The flowers were still as stunning and vividly colorful as they were at the beginning of spring all those months ago. When you asked how Levi kept the garden so healthy, he managed a half-attentioned shrug. Which irked you to no end, except the next day on your way home you found him outside of your residence pulling out weeds and digging into the dirt. That was when you knew he hadn’t told you because he was keeping some well kept secret, but because he was going to do it himself. Much like he always did. 

You led Onyankopon up your steps, but paused at your door when you heard the familiar living sounds of your neighbors. Guilt tugged at you at the realization that you had been ignoring them. For people you have only known a few months, you spoke with them every day and falling out of sync with your routine was doing a number on you. When you unlocked the door and set your things aside you checked the notifications on your phone first. There were two texts. Both from Erwin. 

The first one read as: what came up? 

Quickly followed by: Just let us know if you need anything

Before you could think of a response though, you were reminded of the company you had. Onyankopon had stepped around you to the bathroom, forcing your eyes away from the screen in your hand and following his back until it was hidden behind a closed door. Your palms were beginning to clam up, an antsy energy trailing up your spine. You grabbed two glasses from the wine cart that were hanging from the hooks. With your hands busy it was easier to ignore the sounds of the toilet flushing and the sink’s water running. You over-poured one glass, almost over three-quarters of the way. So you claimed that one, offering the half-full glass to Onyankopon when he exited the bathroom and met you on the other side of the island.

“What’s this?” He spun the red wine around the glass by its stem, bringing the lip to his nose to smell it.

“Cabernet,” you said with your lips around the rim and taking a rather large sip. “Your favorite.”

He hummed in agreement after he tasted it. Actually savoring the flavor while you just chugged down another unattractive gulp. The alcohol was working quickly though with the lack of food you’d eaten today. Aside from your practically digested breakfast the only thing left in your stomach was an unsettling queasiness.

“What year?” He asked after another sip.

“2020,” you responded.

“Our best year to date.” Which made you laugh into your drink. It was peak lockdown and most couples despised spending every second of every day together. But not you two. It somehow brought you closer with every hour spent writing, reading, catching up on tv shows, or fucking. 

“We were stuck inside our house for a year,” you countered, leaning your elbows against the marble. 

“And I loved every second of it.” He smiled, even though there was a sadness lingering in his eyes. One that you could hardly swallow and thudded into your stomach, uncomfortable and heavy. 

“Oh is that right?” You took another sip. 

“Mm, wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t.” His glass was nearly finished, so you offered him the bottle. 

“Of course,” you muttered, staring at him over your glass without knowing much else to say. 

“You know Munchies misses you,” he said over the glug of wine falling from the bottle. 

Munchies was your shared cat. You’d found him four years ago as a kitten. He was so tiny he fit in the palm of your hand. Just a tiny ball of orange fluff that wouldn’t stop screaming. Only issue was when you found him the both of you were high off your asses and on your way back from ordering way too much food. Onyankopon ended up carrying him back to your home in his jacket pocket while you lugged around bags and drink containers. 

“I miss him too,” you said sadly, head falling into your palm as you gazed at the red liquid moving languidly around your glass. 

“He ruined the puzzle you finished before you left,” he shrugged, smiling a little at the memory. “I think he was pissed at you for leaving, and probably pissed at me for ignoring him.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your heart aching even though he said it as if it didn’t affect him. You know the truth though, you could see the cracks in his resolve so vividly. Because they mirrored yours. 

“It’s whatever.” He gave you another shrug, offering nothing but a blank stare. 

“But it's not.”

He managed a hum under his breath in response, leaning over and filling your glass for you. Words were hard and neither of you knew what to say. It was a very strange push and pull, ebb and flow. Nostalgia and suffering. Years of history, but it only took a few months to become strangers. Written out of each other’s lives just as quickly and sincerely as you drunkenly stumbled into them. Just years of growth and development, all for a flight to rip it out right at its root. 

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You asked while grabbing the wine by its neck and heading over to the couch. He followed, taking your movements as an answer enough. Not that he had much of a choice because you were running out of things to say that steered you clear of talking about you leaving. 

There was a cushion of space between you. But the distance could’ve been filled with a mountain range. The both of you ignored it, though. And you scrolled through Netflix until you picked some tacky romcom that was just released. 

You had zero clue what the movie was even about thirty minutes in. Onyankopon kept shifting his weight beside you—legs extending and spreading while his hand moved from his thigh to rest on the cushion between you. 

The wall of the living room was shared with Levi and Erwin’s bedroom, so you could hear that they were home. And usually at this time you’d be prepping for dinner either taking up residence in their kitchen or them in yours. You fear that you’ve used them to replace the void and emptiness in your chest that Onyankopon left. Now that he was back though, you expected some of that painful yearning to subside. Especially now that you could actually get some sort of closure. But now the pain only deepened, so much so it felt like your bones were breaking or your organs were beginning to fail. All you wanted was for him to leave so you could slip back into the routine you’ve become so accustomed to. But that would be impossible if all you did was avoid your past instead of confronting it. 

When the credits rolled and the entire bottle had been drained, instead of feeling comfortably tipsy there was a curdling sensation like spoiled milk rolling around your stomach. Steady breaths were hard to come by, especially since the silence was no longer filled with a poorly written script and subpar acting. 

“That movie was fucking awful,” he exhaled, stretching his long legs out in front of him and groaning when his knees popped. 

“But you love rom coms,” you said sarcastically, humor seeping into your tone despite the emotional turmoil settling somewhere between your heart and stomach. 

“Yeah, pre-2010,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a tiny smile. “And only because they remind me of you.”

“Onyankopon,” you sighed, wanting to desperately curl into yourself. There was a hopefulness in his eyes that you couldn’t return. Six years of loving him and it should be easy to fall again. Even for the sake of familiarity, but you didn’t have it in you. Not after falling so gracelessly out of love with him.

“We should get something to eat,” you deflected. And it was scary how easy it was becoming for you. “Do you have any cravings?”

“Not really,” he said, but you knew it was only for your sake. Everything he wanted to say was so visible on the tip of his tongue. 

“There’s a bunch of good places around here.” You stood to take the bottle to the kitchen along with the red stained glasses. “Italian, Chinese, Indian…”

“What would you want?” He followed.

“Any one of those work,” you shrugged. 

“But what do you want?” You hesitated for a moment. Unsure. “You’ve always been like this.”

“Like what?” Your tone was defensive as you filled the empty glasses with water in the sink. Your fight instinct triggered after years of the same argument.

“Indecisive,” he stated coldly, clearly agitated. 

“Right because you’re known for always choosing what we have for dinner. If you even bothered showing up,” you said bitterly, irrational anger building in your gut. 

“Don’t do that.” His jaw tightened when you faced him, your palms bracing you against the edge of the sink. 

“Do what exactly?” You were baiting him, immaturity in your response was evident, but it always seemed to be your default in moments like these. 

“The thing where you make it all out to be my fault.” His nose scrunched with frustration. “I’m never home. I work too much. I never spend time with you…” 

He rattled off months worth of your constant complaints, making them seem like you were delusional for feeling that way. 

“And none of that was true? I’m just crazy for feeling that way because I’m the one who canceled our vacation last minute because I got called into work.”

That memory in particular stung. It had been months since the two of you had a moment alone and you went out of your way to plan the perfect weekend trip to the mountains. You hated hiking, but he loved it. And you’d do anything to keep him happy and to get him to stay. He didn’t have to lift a finger for it, just agree. Which he did. You rented the car and the cabin. Even going as far as buying him new hiking books since the pair he had were from college. But a week before he had to fly out to the studio’s headquarters and wouldn’t be back in time. There were adjustments that needed to be made to one of the artists’ albums. And you tried so hard to be understanding and accommodating. But sickening resentment started to make its home in your chest.

“I had to work.” He was exasperated. This conversation was old and tired and played out. 

“Exactly. You had to work. But you never had to spend time with me.” The words were accompanied with the souring taste of alcohol on your tongue.

“That’s not fair,” he said through gritted teeth, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“You’re right. It’s not fair that I waited around for you all those nights you said you’d be home for dinner. It’s not fair that my presence became so low on your list of priorities, I was just an afterthought to you.”

“That’s never what you were and you know that!” He shook his head and shut his eyes. Tension pulsed in his neck and shoulders and the haphazard bandages you stuck over your broken heart were peeling away agonizingly slow. 

“Then what was I?”

“I love you,” he pleaded. Pain etched into his facial expressions and it hurt to look at him. Maybe it was a last ditch effort for him, but you couldn’t keep doing this. 

“Love isn’t everything when it feels like you stopped caring.” Your voice cracked, a sudden wave of exhaustion weighing down your body. 

“I stopped caring but you’re the one who left? Without so much as a warning or goodbye. I deserved more than that.”

“You did and that’s on me, but you never tried to understand what I was going through. For fucks sake you laughed when I told you about this job,” you shouted, and your heart started beating rapidly against your chest. 

“No.” It came out more as a question than anything. His brows pinched in confusion and nausea settled in your stomach when you recognized that he really didn’t see the signs at all. He didn’t even remember. 

“You were on your way to the airport,” you started, head hanging a little lower at the memory. “I called you when I found it because I got excited. For a while I felt like everything was stagnant in my career, especially after watching yours be so great. So when I told you I was hoping to apply, all you did was chuckle and say ‘go ahead, but it's not like we’ll relocate.’

Like it wasn’t even up for discussion. Like my dreams weren’t even worth a conversation. So, no I didn’t tell you when I applied or left for the interview. I planned on it after they offered me the job but after that argument on our last night together, I made my decision. I felt like it wasn’t up for debate at that point.”

His hands gripped your marble counter. The tension in his shoulders remained and you could see the gears turning in his head. The rewind of events until he reached that moment. And the sudden realization. 

“Why didn’t you just talk to me? Why did you have to do something so drastic to get my attention?”

“I wasn’t looking for your attention! All I ever wanted was for you to listen and every time I tried, I was brushed off and the conversation was tabled for later and later and later. I wasn’t going to wait around forever for you!”

He walked around the island in three easy strides, anger bubbling behind his gaze as he seemed to corner you. “If you had told me I would’ve tried. I would’ve changed something to make it work.”

“Would you have put your career on hold for me? Would you have moved with me? Would you have even tried to split your time?” 

Tears of frustration were building behind your eyes and they burned so badly it was as if a fire was lit behind them. Your throat threatened to shut with how violently you were swallowing away the tears. Because you didn’t want to cry. You were over crying. 

“I…” he stopped himself, considering all of your questions, but his silence was your answer. His hesitation said it all. He wouldn’t do that for you and you knew and accepted that. But seeing it was different. Knowing that your assumption was true tore you apart in a way you didn’t fully understand. Like a knife digging deep into your chest and puncturing your heart. 

“I was tired of making sacrifices for you that went unnoticed. You just started to expect me to be there even when I was losing myself.”

“But what you did wasn’t something you’d do to someone you love,” his voice broke with sadness and anger. Bitterness coated each word and he could hardly even look at you. 

“This was never about loving you. I never stopped loving you. And yes, maybe what I did was selfish and cruel, but I was unhappy and you didn’t even care to ask. It was like I wasn’t even there. Did you really expect me to live the rest of our lives like that?”

“No, but I expected more from you. More from the woman I asked to be my wife.” He stressed the word, making it sound more like an insult that cut you straight open rather than a promise of being together forever. 

“We both know I’m not the one for you,” you shook your head to force the tears away. “Regardless of everything that we’ve been through, you have to admit that I was never the one. No matter how hard I tried to be, no matter how much I wished to be that for you. I'm not.” 

It took months for you to come to terms with that. And it was even harder to admit out loud, evidenced by the betrayal of water gathering at your lash line. If life were easy, simple, you could’ve been the wife he wanted. The person he craved and desired. But that fizzled out quicker than either of you craved to admit. It was just the truth. As ugly as it was. 

He stepped away from you, reaching a hand into his pocket until he pulled something out that you didn’t see. Not until he grabbed your wrist and held your palm up for him. He closed your engagement ring in your own hand. Stepping away from you completely, while taking whatever oxygen was left for you to breathe. 

“I do-,” you choked around the words because of the thickness gathering in your throat. “I don’t want this.”

You tried to hand it back, but he stepped further away from you until his back met the edge of your island. “Sell it, pawn it, give it away. I don’t care,” he threw his hands up in defeat. 

“But I can’t keep looking at it everyday. You left everything behind, and that I can deal with. But not the ring.” 

There was a desperation in his voice that clawed at you. One that you couldn’t argue because he was right. You left it all for him to clean up and dispose of. Especially the ring. You opened your fist to look at it, a fresh wave of agony resonated through you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, this time looking at him. Watching his face fall and his emotions displayed plainly for you to witness. 

“I want to forgive you,” he said, his shoulders dropping and his eyes watering. “I really do. But I can’t. Not right now.” 

“And I can’t ask that of you,” your lips trembled, chest full of regret and guilt and pity. For him and for you. Because it shouldn’t have ended this way. “I know what I did and we both have to live with that.”

A stray tear fell down your cheek. It left a hot, wet track behind as it slid down your face and dropped off of your chin. This was the closure you wanted. The one you needed. But it didn’t make anything easier. Instead it carved open a fresh wound that was deeper than the last one. And for a second you wish you could take it all back. Just told him that you were sorry and that you would marry him. But that was just the regret talking. It should pass eventually. Hopefully.

“I should probably go.” He was retreating slowly, his eyes downcast, but you didn’t miss the tear that stained his own face. It was a direct reflection of your own. A cracked mirror with a distorted image of yourself. One you didn’t recognize. Not anymore. 

You stood in the kitchen as you heard him gather his things. Your back stuck against the sink’s edge as your palm grew sweaty where it was tightly secured around your ring. You were afraid to move. Afraid that it would make the situation real and honest. And then you’d have to deal with the consequences of that. The consequences of loving and losing. 

He refused to look your way as he exited your bedroom and headed towards the front door with his duffel secured over his chest. You tracked his every movement. From the squaring of his shoulders to the hollow breathing of his chest. 

“I hope she’s out there,” you called out to him and he stiffened. His back still to you, but you continued, “the love of your life. I hope you find her someday.” 

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes taking you in for seemingly the last time. For what very well might be the most tragic you’ve ever looked in your years together. 

“I hope you do too,” he said solemnly, “find whatever happiness you’re looking for.” 

Another wave of tears threatened to spill over. His dejected voice was devastating enough to haunt you even in your dreams. You swallowed and looked away, breaking eye contact and concentrating on a spot on your counter. You heard the door click shut after a few seconds of strained silence. The ring, now slick from your sweat, was dropped onto the counter as your vision blurred and your mind clouded over. 

You should clean up. Your legs moving before you could stop them. You turned and washed the glasses in the sink and hung them upside down to dry. You folded the blanket on your couch next. And then put the book Onyankopon left on your dining table back on your bookshelf. A pang of something familiar and painful made its way through you and you nearly dropped the book. Your fingers trembled and shook. 

You walked back to the kitchen, shaky fingers wrapping around the wine bottle left on the island. They traced over the label, over the tiny clean numbers of 2020.

Our best year to date. 

Your hand tightened around the thick glass, and you were so angry. So pissed at where life has led you. And all you wanted was to lash out, to blame the universe or God or some other being that you couldn’t see for the mess you brought upon yourself. When the image of him walking away from you slammed back into your mind, the bottle that was secured in your grasp was flung against the wall. Remnants of red liquid splattered against the white paint, staining it so aggressively but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when your heart dropped into your stomach, the shards of broken glass scattered across your floor irreparably. 

You knelt as tears fell from your eyes— inevitable as they dripped down your neck and into your shirt. You were blind with them. Sobs wracked through your body as you tried to control your breathing but couldn’t. You gasped for air like each breath would be your last. All sense of control gone and lost, and you didn’t know when you’d ever get it back. 

You gathered the huge chunks of glass into shaking hands, attempting to clean up whatever you could, even while it felt like everything else was slipping through your fingers. You tossed whatever you could pick up into the trash, and as a jagged piece slipped from your grasp, it sliced open your fingertip. You hissed from the sudden pain, but you only stared as blood began to pool at the opening and drip down your finger. That was the least of your worries though. The stinging pain was nothing in comparison to the gaping hole residing where your heart used to be. 

And you weren’t sure when or if you would ever recover. 

[will-ruadh]

okay, too much unfinished stuff, even for me, this is the "we finish things here" autumn season!!

Manga:

One Piece 1st saga (82/100) 🟥

Games:

Undertale (0/1) 🟥

Deltarune (0/1) 🟥

Rusty Lake all games replay (0/17) 🟥

Fran Bow replay (0/1) 🟥

Genshin Act 5 maybe??? 🟥

Books:

Dracula (ch. 4/27) 🟥

Percy Jackson at least the first one dear God when will I finish it 🟥

the rest of the pjo series (optional) 🟥

What if Loki was worthy (ch. 3/??) 🟥

The book of Bill 🟥

LOTR (optional) 🟥

Movies:

The Hobbit movies (1/3) 🟥

The Whale (2022) 🟥

Any horror movie I haven't watched yet 🟥

Shows:

HotD s2 (7/8) 🟥

Doctor Who s14 (1/8) 🟥

the x-files s8 (5/21) 🟥

Spatort (1/5) 🟥

literally any star trek i have on hold (TAS, TOS movies, TNG, disco, SNW) 🟥

Gilmore Girls if i like it 🟥

White Collar s1 (8/14) 🟥

Leverage s1 (3/14) 🟥

the A-Team s2 (4/23) 🟥

Hotel Portofino (3/18) 🟥

It's always sunny in Philadelphia s2 (2/10) 🟥

Mob Psycho 100 II (10/13) 🟥

otgw rewatch 🟥

gravity falls rewatch 🟥

Musicals:

Beetlejuice 🟥

maybe movie!Cabaret or Chicago idk 🟥

Last priority:

Hilda

MLP

Pushing Daisies

The Boys

Stranger Things

The Magnificent Seven

Hustle

Lupin

okay i think that's all