#Whoops tumblr fucked up the formatting let's try again

[blackholefriends]

Nothing is stationary.

A collage zine I made this summer and never posted whoops. It's an actual zine too - full 8.5x11 scan below!

[ahockeywrites]

Better in Hoboken - Quinn Hughes

Authors note: let’s try this a second time because tumblr has decided to take a shit and fuck my formatting up 🙄. Thank you so much to @antoineroussel for organising the fic exchange I’ve had so much fun writing this story and I hope you enjoy it. I was matched with @torontoflames and I hope I’ve created a little story that you enjoy!

Warnings: underage alcohol consumption, swearing

Word count: 3.5k

Jack watched as Quinn scowled at his phone once again, clearly receiving another negative response from his friends about coming to the lake house over summer. Luke had invited his friends over from Michigan and Jack already had some friends over from when he was in the US National Team Development Program. Jack knew that Josh Norris was coming for a week slightly later in the summer but that was it.

“Probably not gonna make you feel much better, but I’ve got a friend coming over next week who’s your age,” Jack explained.

“Jack,” Quinn groaned, “you think inviting one of your hookups from Jersey is gonna make me feel any better?” It was as if Jack wasn’t even thinking about how his brother would understand his comment. From Quinn’s perspective, the only person he knew at the lake house was Nick Blankenburg from their time at Michigan together but it felt like he was imposing on Luke’s group of friends.

“Woah woah,” Jack started to recoil back, “Y/N is not a hookup. She went out on a few sort of dates with Nico because she’s friends with Ty’s girlfriend but nothing ever came of it and she just stuck around and joined our friendship group. She’s sound, an engineering student at Rutgers, but can’t go home as she’s international so I invited her here for a week, maybe longer if she wants to.”

Quinn showed the slightest hint of a smile, thinking that maybe he might not be the only one who barely knows anyone. “Okay,” he conceded, well, conceded might not be the right word. He was excited to have someone his own age hanging around not just Michigan freshman.

A few days had passed, and aside from having a few beers on a boat, wakeboarding, and going to the gym, Quinn really didn’t do much. Yes, he enjoyed cooking dinner for everyone on the barbecue and occasionally baking with his mother. But he felt isolated, that was until Jack announced to everyone that he was going to the airport to pick Y/N up.

All of Jack’s friends started whooping and Quinn could specifically hear Cole asking if she was Jack’s girlfriend, which he denied once again. “Just a friend who would be alone all summer if she didn’t come here.”

Just a friend. Those words rung around in Quinn’s head. He really hoped that his brother and Y/N really hadn’t done anything together because he had gone and found her Instagram profile and although it was on private, he sent a request. Within a few hours the words requested turned into following and he had gained himself a new follower too.

The feed contained photos of her studying, one at a Devils game where she was hanging out with some of the girlfriends and another from a night out with some of Jack’s teammates. The pair of them may not have been dating but they certainly were good friends.

Quinn couldn’t help but look at her Instagram feed and think that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Beautiful and smart was a winning combination in his eyes. All could hope was that she was funny to, or at least funny to him.

He had completely zoned out thinking about her, thinking what she could be like. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of keys jingling and Jack shouting that he was home, he came back to reality. Alex and Cole seemed to be sprinting back into the family room, dripping with chlorinated water from the pool. Nick was following closely behind, trying to get them to at least wrap a towel around themselves so they didn’t stain the carpets of the house.

“Boys, Y/N,” Jack introduced her. “Y/N, the boys.”

“Can’t wait for me to be the only girl once again,” she spoke whilst rolling her eyes. Y/N was used to hanging around with just guys, she thought it was just easier to hang around with them. Yes, she hung around with the WAGs occasionally and was also the go to person for events. It started with Nico after their failed tinder dates, then when the captain started dating Abbie, she was Jack’s go to.

Y/N had become like an older sister to Jack, helping him to cook and do basic house tasks which he struggled with. But he was always there when she needed him, like after her boyfriend had cheated on her, Jack was there as a friend with a pint of ice cream in the freezer and her favourite wine on the wine rack.

Jack did have the feeling that Sebastian was up to something behind Y/N’s back, however he didn’t feel it was his place to mention anything. She thought that something wasn’t right when Sebastian kept cancelling their lunch plans and found out when she turned up at his place with a bottle of wine, hoping for a cute evening date but ended up being greeted by an absolutely stunning, model-esque looking woman asking if she had turned up to the wrong house with a food delivery order. It took all of Y/N’s strength to not shout at the woman, knowing that she was unlikely to know that Sebastian was seeing another woman. All Y/N did was introduce herself as Sebastian’s girlfriend to which the other woman was confused. They were both of the impression that Sebastian was dating them, and only them. The pair of them then confronted him and Y/N invited Abbie back to her flat to share wine and rant about shitty men. Y/N and Abbie then became friends and to celebrate their singleness, Jack organised a night out for both of them, cementing Abbie into the group.

“Y/N!” Luke shouted, after running down the stairs to figure out what the commotion in the living room was.

“Baby Hughes!” Y/N replied, taking the younger boy into a playful headlock. Quinn watched as his youngest brother almost melted into the grasp of the woman. “If Jack had told me someone who can cook would be here, I would have been out weeks earlier.”

“Hey,” Alex looked shocked, “I can use the barbecue.” Y/N rolled her eyes, not trusting the words coming out of his mouth.

“Better than Jack, he struggles with everything,” Y/N joked before releasing Luke from the headlock and messing up Jack’s hair.

“And on that note, your room is upstairs,” Jack spoke before pretty much dragging Y/N up to the top floor where her room was allocated.

Quinn was fucked.

~~

Being the oldest there, Quinn was trusted by his mother to drive the boat out onto Lake Huron and he had to make sure that the boat was docked when he got back. Ellen Hughes didn’t spend too much time at the lake house when it was packed with young adults but she did make sure that everyone felt welcome. Quinn tried to extend his mother’s hospitality by offering to take Y/N to the store and to grab whatever alcohol and food she wanted. Her list wasn’t extensive but she offered to tag along with Quinn and help pick up the ever extending list made by Luke’s friends. The pair engaged in friendly conversation throughout the drive and in Target but it was limited to questions about their time at college and how difficult Jack can be at times. If Quinn was feeling awkward, Y/N didn’t notice it as she grew fonder of his presence, even if it was barely an hour they had spent together.

The pair stocked the fridge on the boat up with beers, White Claws and soft drinks before seamlessly moving on to preparing some food to eat on the boat too. Y/N chopped fruit up and made it look pretty before wrapping it in plastic wrap and setting it on the portable cooler and Quinn moved to prepare some pita bread, vegetable sticks and hummus. It was the first sense of calm that either of them had felt since arriving at the lake house.

Until Jack came tumbling down the stairs claiming that the girl he had been talking to back in Jersey was going to be coming out to the lake house for a few days. Y/N rolled her eyes, now it wasn’t that her and Faith didn’t get along. Faith seemed to be jumping from one famous person’s bed to another and that lifestyle wasn’t one that Y/N could see herself living. But she did her best to get along with Faith when she was around.

“There’s a girl?” Quinn questioned his younger brother, realising that there were more things that Jack was keeping hidden from him.

Y/N hummed in answer to Quinn’s question, whilst rolling her eyes giving the Canuck player all the information he needed about this girl.

“She’s getting here in a week,” he gasped, rereading the texts. Jack’s golden retriever behaviour didn’t just stop there as he almost sprinted over to his older brother to show him Faith’s Instagram profile. Quinn took Jack’s phone off him and scrolled through her account. It was bikini picture after bikini picture, with a few lingerie shoots dotted around. He noticed that, compared to Y/N’s account at least, Faith didn’t seem to show much personality. Y/N had her at brunches, in the electronics labs and at hockey games, Faith’s had none of that.

“She looks lovely,” Quinn managed to get out before shooing his brother off to get everyone else up for the day out on the lake.

The water was calm as Quinn drove the boat out onto the lake. The stillness calmed him as he concentrated on taking everyone to the small island in the centre of the lake safety. Quinn watched the branches of the trees on the shoreline move with the gentle winds and the waves crashed softly on the sandy beach, slowly bringing him to a state of relaxation he hadn’t felt in some time.

Quinn was brought out of his calm state by his youngest brother shouting the unfortunate nickname given to him by his teammates. He rolled his eyes before turning around to see what the commotion was.

“Alex wanted to know where the White Claws were,” Jack told him.

“And you had to ask me, whilst I’m driving the boat?” Quinn replied, annoyed with the middle Hughes brother.

“Well you packed the boat full of stuff,” Jack said nonchalantly, “why would anyone else know where the stuff is.” Jack shrugged his shoulders, stocking the boat up with alcohol generally fell to Quinn because he was the oldest and usually the only one who could legally be seen with the alcohol.

“Y/N,” Quinn replied, “you know, the other 22 year old who can drink. Plus she helped me set up the food so you know it won’t kill you.” Quinn rolled his eyes at Jack, he really was clueless the majority of the time.

“Oh,” Jack sighed. He would have tried to make some connections between Y/N and Quinn heading out to the shops together and them getting the boat ready, but he was too occupied with his phone and replying to Faith with snapchats of himself on the lake.

Alex didn’t need Jack to ask his older brother where the alcohol was as it was obvious, where else would it be but the fridge. He swiped himself a pineapple White Claw and a Cherry one for Y/N. She hadn’t asked, but he assumed that she wouldn’t turn down a drink. “So,” Alex started, wrapping his arm around Y/N, “you deal with Jack all season long, and you choose to come here and hang out with him more?”

“Let me make this clear”, she replied, cracking open the can and taking a sip, “I did not come here to hang out with Jack any longer.”

“So why come to Michigan,” Alex asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t know how someone could put up with Jack on an almost daily basis, but to come and hang out with him and his friends during her summer break, it seemed crazy to him.

“Needed a break from Jersey City, couldn’t go home, here was the next best thing,” she smiled before flicking her head down so the sunglasses that were resting on the top of her head sat on the bridge of her nose. “Even if it means dealing with Jack pining over a woman once again.”

Quinn looked back to see Alex pissing himself with laughter at something Y/N had said as she sipped on the drink he hoped she had got for herself. The pair seemed to be in a conversation, ignoring the antics of the other boys on the boat and it made Quinn hate himself for being the responsible one. He wanted to be sat at the back of the boat, with his arm wrapped around Y/N, forgetting everyone else even existed. But he didn’t let his emotions show, he couldn’t.

The boat didn’t stay on the lake for too long as Quinn knew that Jack wanted to get a barbecue going so after everyone had jumped into the lake and got enough pictures for their first Instagram post of the summer, he turned the boat around and drove slowly back to the shore. Y/N steadied herself before attempting to get off the boat but she could feel her feet slipping on the inside of the boat. Before she could fall down, a pair of strong arms caught her, keeping her from losing her balance.

“I’ve got you,” Quinn spoke calmly, “one foot in front of the other, you’ve got this.” Quinn’s voice soothed Y/N as she held his hand to get off the boat.

This action went unnoticed by most, except for Jack.

~~

Y/N was woken up to the sound of ceramic breaking and pans being smashed together and she had to admit that it wasn’t her preferred way to wake up. She grabbed one of her oversized Devils shirts given to her by one of the team and found her slippers before swinging open the door to the room which she was staying in. Standing directly opposite her was Quinn, his hair disheveled and bags under his eyes very apparent. All he was wearing was a pair of team issued shorts and his thighs were on full display and Y/N had to stop herself from staring at him.

“I think we get coffee, some fruit and head outside to ignore whatever they’re doing,” Quinn suggested. All Y/N could do was agree because the sound was causing her to develop a headache.

“I’m just gonna grab some Advil before we head out,” she explained to Quinn before running back up the stairs to find the medication.

Quinn started to collect some fruit out of the fridge before setting the coffee machine up to make Y/N’s favourite. There was also a jug of chilled water which he brought out to the decking along with some glasses. Next was the plates and bowls and he thought he would go without anyone noticing him until Jack shouted directly at him.

“Yo Quinner,” he exclaimed, “whatcha doing?” Jack questioned as he dodged some pancake mix being thrown through the air by Alex.

“I am getting some breakfast, then going to sit outside and eat it,” Quinn groaned, really wishing he could have just not been spotted.

“Alone?” His younger brother questioned, knowing that it was likely that he wouldn’t be alone.

“For gods sake Jack,” Quinn replied, “Y/N isn��t feeling too good so I’m hoping some fresh air and food helps her, okay?” All Jack could do was nod, he was pretty preoccupied with all of his hockey friends so didn’t really have much time to spend with Y/N but was glad she was being friendly with his older brother.

The cool wind hit Y/N as soon as she stepped outside and Quinn noticed immediately. He excused himself quickly before speeding into the laundry room to find one of his mums spare blankets. A large fluffy blanket engulfed Y/N, immediately warming her up. She thanked Quinn profusely but his only response was a blush.

“Eat some food then have some Advil,” Quinn instructed. “We can always take the boat out later because sea air is the best air.”

“Just the two of us?” Y/N asked, really hoping that it would be a chill day.

“If that’s what you want, yeah, just the two of us,” Quinn confirmed. “Let’s eat then we can get the boat ready.” She nodded, looking forward to another day out on the water.

~~

The cool breeze floated over Y/N’s skin as she drank out of the travel mug Quinn had prepared for her with some peppermint tea. She sat next to Quinn as he aimlessly directed the boat along the lake. Sometimes she even steered the boat, reaching over over Quinn’s lap. That was until he had enough and pulled her onto his lap.

His hand found presence on her thigh, thumb rubbing semi circles on the jeans she wore. Y/N settled into his touch, slowly sipping on her tea, which had cooled down sufficiently for her to drink.

There were only two more days until she left to return to Jersey, back to a job where she ground coffee beans and made the most ridiculous caffeine concoctions for those doing summer school in Jersey. The occasional banker or lawyer would pop in because the queue was usually shorter than ones in the centre of town.

“You’ll come visit when you’re playing in Jersey right?” Y/N asked meekly, not too sure if Quinn would want to keep the friendship they had going.

“Of course,” he replied, shifting slightly so that his whole hand was now sitting on her thigh. “I can’t deal with Jack and Luke on my own.”

Y/N replied with an awkward smile and nod of her head. She knew she wouldn’t be the only reason he was in Jersey and that was okay.

“It’ll be great to see you too,” Quinn finally got out. He felt a tug towards Y/N whenever she was around, he wanted to be around her, he wanted to talk to her. He enjoyed the time they had spent together even if it was Jack who introduced them.

“I’d like to see Vancouver too,” she spoke, trying to convince herself that she could do this. “I’ve never been to the West Coast.” A small smile graced Quinn’s face, hoping he had read the signals right.

“Vancouver is nice,” he said, “not as nice as here though. I’d pick being back home over Vancouver any day. I’m back end of August if you want to come visit, get away from Jack at the start of training camp.”

“I’d like that,” she replied, turning her head around to look at Quinn. He moved the thumb that was resting on her thigh to slowly draw around her bottom lip, eyes flicking between her lips and her eyes. “Kiss me Quinn.”

He didn’t need any more convincing as he pressed his hips to hers in a sweet kiss. The pair shared a few more kisses before Y/N pointed out a small island where they could dock the boat and sit on the beach for a few hours.

Quinn opened out the picnic blanket on the sandy ground, before quickly popping back onto the boat to grab a few drinks. Y/N and Quinn both cracked open a can of soda before digging a small hole to rest the can in when they weren’t holding it.

She kicked her sandals off, encouraging Quinn to do the same. He complied, not realising that Y/N was going to drag him into the water. Looking back to the blanket, Quinn thought he would be able to throw his shirt over to it so he could give it to Y/N if she got too many of her clothes wet.

It didn’t go as he planned as the wind caught his shirt, blowing it back into the water. Quinn watched as she started laughing at him, not with malice.

She was beautiful.

~~

“Quinn,” Y/N giggled as she rounded the corner. Quinn was trying to lift her up and place her into a fireman’s hold over his shoulder but she wasn’t having any of it. She darted out of his grasp as soon as she noticed what he was thinking. They looked like two young lovers spending a summer holiday on the lake.

Jack looked out of the window to see who was causing the noise, thinking it was one of their neighbours but was pleasantly surprised when he saw his brother and best friend. Inviting Y/N out to Michigan was one of the best things he had ever done. Jack hoped that the pair would end up hitting it off, but going back to Jersey with a potential sister-in-law was certainly not on his mind.

Life might be better in Hoboken, but holidays are better in Michigan.

[crystalirises]

Even Gods Bleed

Hello! So this is a prompt given to me by chaoticbandito in ao3 and I have their permission to post it on Tumblr :)

Also, slight explanation Quackity still has some beef with Techno here but Fundy is not part of the Butcher Gang and instead lives with the SBI (why? Because I said so.).

Tommy is rescued from exile instead because Phil can be a good dad in this prompt XD. Lastly, the differently formatted one lines (bold or italics) are meant to be the voices.

Did I forget Ranboo? No. He's sleeping, I swear!

Yes, I forgot about Ranboo because I am a fool ;-;

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Techno let out a tired breath of air, glancing down at his younger brother who was busy tending to their sheep companion. Ghostbur glanced over at him, a toothy grin on his face as he gave Techno a little wave. A trail of blood was left in their wake as they stumbled towards the cabin they're entire family lived in. Techno wondered when Quackity would finally realize that attacking him was fruitless… and to think the duck hybrid had tried to drag Ghostbur into it. Techno growled under his breath, wishing that Quackity would just get the message and leave them all alone.

"Are you sure Quackity will be alright? I think you killed him with too much force this time." Techno grunted at the question, slightly irritated that Ghostbur had completely forgotten what had just occurred a moment prior. He casted his blood red eyes at his transparent younger brother, feeling all sense of annoyance disappear as he looked into those warm brown eyes. Ghostbur needed to forget, best not let him remember Quackity threatening to kill Friend in front of them. Techno would give up a life if it meant Ghostbur could never remember his trauma. "Friend says thank you, by the way. I don't know what for but I'm so glad you two are getting along. You and Sally used to fight a lot when she…"

Ghostbur stuttered to a pause, an eerie silence following, only interrupted by the occasional loud gust of wind. A blizzard was in the air, he could sense it. Techno simply sighed, knowing what came next. "Oh. Hi, Techno!"

"Hello, Ghostbur." Techno winced, gritting his teeth as though speaking took too much of an effort. He shrugged it off, too focused on getting his younger brother home before any other nuisance decided to show their face. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, the harsh chill of snow biting at the tips of his ears as he took in another deep breath. He'd never thought he'd hate the cold as much as he did right then. "We're headed home."

"Oh? Where did we go before?" Ghostbur's airy voice barely registered, his mind stuttering to a stop as he strained to remember what his brother just said. Ghostbur floated into his view, his eyebrows drawn together. "Techno?"

'Uh oh…'

'Do we tell him?'

'Duck's fault'

'TechnoPain'

'awwww concerned Ghostbur…'

'snow is cold'

'DO WE TELL HIM???'

'no, you nerd'

'Blood…'

'let him find out—'

"Techno?" The voices ceased their chatter, their whispers disappearing into the back of his mind as he simply gave Ghostbur a small nod. Ghostbur placed a hand on his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he searched for something. Techno patted the ghost's hand before trekking back towards the cabin. The sooner they get home, the sooner Techno could retire to sleep. Although why he felt the need to sleep was beyond him. After a few minutes, the pair stopped a few paces near the entrance. Ghostbur still hovered behind him, gaze strangely fixated on Techno's side. Techno gave him a short glance before reaching out towards the nearly frozen doorknob. Darkness had begun to seep into their surroundings, the brutal tundra air beating at his exposed skin. Techno shivered, clutching his blue coat with his free hand. "Techno, why didn't you—"

He threw the door open, cutting off the ghost's sentence as he stumbled his way into their warm home. He waited as Ghostbur and Friend made their way inside, closing the door with a soft thump behind them. Techno didn't stay behind to listen to whatever it was Ghostbur had wanted to say. Quickly draping his coat on the coat hanger, Techno walked deeper into the cabin, intent on making his way to bed. He wanted to sleep. His body ached for it.

"Hold on a second, mate." A familiar chuckle reached his ears as a pair of injured white wings blocked his path. Phil emerged from one of the rooms, a soft smile on his face. "Dinner should be ready soon, would you like—"

'potato soup again?'

'hmmmm no dinner tonight…'

'this should be fun'

'oh whoops'

'potatoes have ruined our lives'

'Phil'

'Tell Phil'

'Philza'

'Dadza'

'DADZA—'

Phil was not a man who was scared easily, having spent nearly half of his waking days nursing his one remaining life. No, he was not a faint hearted man. Once, he was a king. An angel whose very presence struck fear into all those who heard the flap of his wings. He was Philza Minecraft, after all. Yet, as he watched his eldest son topple to the ground, his breathe stuttered to a stop. He stood there frozen for a moment, heart beating madly in his chest until he finally found it in himself to move. He crouched down beside Techno, his hands hovering above his son's all too still form. A metallic scent reached his nose, his eyes flickering about until he saw crimson seeping out of Techno's side. He heard the crack of feathers, his wings morphing into sharp steel at the thought of anyone daring to even hurt one of his sons. Phil tried to keep himself calm, revenge could wait. He had a son to take care of, "Fundy! Tommy! I require a bit of assistance here, please!"

He hears the rush of footsteps from above as he tried to press his shaking hands against the wound. Ghostbur floated into view, his pale ghostly face turning nearly transparent as he took in his brother's unmoving form. Phil wished he could comfort his son but he couldn't, not when he himself was too busy trying to bite down the panic and rage that threatened to spill from his chest. How dare… how dare they try to take away another one of his sons? Phil bit down the bottom of his lip, forcing his mind to concentrate on Techno. His poor son who looked too peaceful, felt too cold to the touch. Phil was going to rip into whoever had the fucking gall to come to their territory and attack one of his sons. He gritted his teeth, nearly cracking them as he tried to quell his fury and horror.

'Killza…'

'Killza…'

'Killza…'

His blood was wet with blood, reminding him of a time where he had been in this situation, where had to watch one of his sons die by his blade. Phil held back his sorrow. Techno wasn't going to die. Phil won't be losing another son anytime soon. It was a deep cut on the side, but Techno will survive it. He will survive it. Techno wasn't going to lose one of his lives like this. Not if Phil had anything to say about it.

Tommy and Fundy finally reached him, their faces stricken with surprise as they saw the limp form of Technoblade. Phil bit back his dry chuckle. Of course they were surprised, no one had ever seen Techno so vulnerable before, but Phil had… once. They quickly snapped out of it, reaching out to help Phil as they all made their way towards Techno's room. They struggled to place the pig hybrid onto the bed, but after a while, they finally did it.

"Tommy, can you get me some bandages and a healing potion." Phil's voice was but a whisper, yet he heard Tommy leave the room anyway. Phil placed a hand on top of Techno's head, petting his son's soft pink hair.

"He'll be okay, right? He isn't…"

"He'll be fine, Fundy."

"... Technoblade never dies…?"

"That's right." Phil smiled at his grandson's words, that old phrase bringing a bit of comfort to him as he glanced over at Fundy. He placed a hand over Techno's, his fingers cold to the touch. Fundy didn't need to wait before grabbing the folded blanket, placing it over Techno to keep him warm as they waited for Tommy to come back. Fundy twitched, picking at the sleeve of his shirt, his gaze never leaving his uncle's form. Phil knew how sensitive Fundy could be at the sight of… probable death. "Thank you. You should probably go check on Ghostbur, I'll handle it from here."

Fundy gave him a small nod before rushing out of the room, nearly bumping into Tommy who had brought more bandages and healing potions than necessary. The blonde tried to mask his fear, but Phil knew his sons, knew their small gestures and what they meant. Tommy's bright blue eyes were blown wide open, his fingers twitching as he made his way to Phil's side. Phil gently took everything from his son's hands, holding onto one of the healing potions as reached out towards Techno. As he slowly helped Techno drink the potion, he could hear Tommy pacing behind him, his sneakers scuffing against the wooden floor. "I'm going to kill the son of a bitch who did this. Ohhhh, when I get my fucking hands on them— I mean, h-how dare they come in here and hurt Techno? What fucking—"

"Tommy, I'm going to need you to calm down. We'll talk to Techno in the morning and strategize, but for now you can help Fundy with Ghostbur." Phil slowly sat back down, empty bottle in hand as he turned to face his youngest son. Tommy looked like he wanted to argue, his hands curled into fists as he glared at the wall. If there wasn't an impending blizzard, he had no doubt Tommy would be rushing to fight whoever had done this. "Tommy, please."

"Is Techie going to be okay?" Tommy turned to him, the shine of tears in his eyes as he rubbed a hand at his mouth. His poor son… they'd recently just saved him from exile. "He's going to be okay, right dad? He's Technoblade!"

"He'll be fine, Tommy."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now, go ahead. I'll stay here."

Tommy hesitated for a minute, his brows creasing together before he finally stomped off into the hallway, screaming profanity at an invisible enemy. Phil shook his head, taking one of the bandages as he focused his entire attention to Techno. The wound was beginning to heal, the potion's effects fixing the damage done against his son. A scar would remain but he knew Techno wouldn't mind it, scars already littered most of the piglin hybrid's skin, what was one more to him? Phil began to dress the wound, knowing that Techno would still feel sore tomorrow regardless of the potion. He nearly cursed as he dropped the bandage, his hands still shaking from the sudden scare he had just gotten.

New L'Manburg was dangerous, far too risky and too paranoid than any nation he's visited. To come to their home under the pretense of hurting one of their own was an unofficial declaration of war. Phil reached for another roll of bandages, wrapping up the wound the best way he knew how. A part of him thought of how he shouldn't be so well-practiced in dressing wounds, thoughts of the times where he's had to help his own sons flashing through his head. Though he knew quite well that at least two of his son's were grown adults, he couldn't stop the undeniable guilt of knowing that they'd been exposed so badly to the cruelties of the world. He'd lost one son to death, and yet it felt as though he'd lost all three.

Techno was plagued by voices.

Wilbur was dead . His poor son is gone .

Tommy was haunted by his exile.

Phil laid his head against the mattress, a hand still holding on to Techno's. He was going to keep his family safe. He'd let them heal here… in their cabin. Phil wasn't going to let them break. Never again. He was here, and he'll die before anyone dared try to hurt them.

He stayed and fell asleep by Techno's side, his hand's hold never wavering even as he woke the next day. As he glanced up, a pair of warm, blood red eyes greeted him. A smile found its way to Phil's lips.

"Good morning, Techno."

"Good morning, dad."

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;-; I've never even written Phil or Techno ;-;

[thiswasinevitableid]

Okay well then!!!! I am very glad and excited to share my most recent idea I had while rereading Yeti Hunting again!! And the new Incubus one too!! They're almost exactly the same idea, just different flavors I suppose. Also Joe is trans in both the ideas but that's less to do with the ideas themself and more to do with just me projecting on him sgfjgsjfhsjdh

Okay so it's like a reverse au so Stern is some kind of cryptid, but as far as Barclay knows they're just two good human friends (but maybe they wanna be a little more than friends...). And then one day Joseph goes into heat and tells Barclay he's sick to try to keep him away, but Barclay being the sweetest man alive goes to his house with fresh soup to take care of him and Joe seems really panicked about Bar being there and tries to make him leave but he is CLEARLY unwell and Barclay is very stubborn when it comes to helping people he cares about and so he plants himself down on the couch and says he's not leaving until Joe tells him what's wrong and Stern tries to hold onto his human form but it's taking too much focus and energy and whoops Barclay finds out his friend not human and currently in distress and so horny it hurts and if he can help his friend and fuck him at the same time, well then that's just a win all around (bonus points if at the end Barclay is kinda sad because he thinks Joe just needed somone to fuck him, not nessacarry Barclay, but Joe frantically assures him that he is SUPER into him and if it were anyone else he would have kicked them the hell out and probably skipped town bc he couldn't trust anyone else with a secret like this).

Or!! (This is where the incubus part comes in) Joe is an incubus and currently hiding out in his human disguise at the Amnesty lodge and it's going fine for a while, but then he starts talking to and getting to know the really hot chef. And they slowly start growing closer and closer. And maybe in this world, the power an Incubus gets from sex depends just as much on their desires as it does the human's. And this has never been an issue for Stern before, but now he's falling for Barclay and wants him and no one else so he's getting less and less energy from his encounters and Barclay is worried about him because he doesn't seem like himself anymore. Almost as if he's... dulled? When Barclay looks at him the blue of his eyes seem muted and his general aura seems... gray. And it all comes to ahead when Joe finally stops insisting he's fine and after dinner one night he asks if he can speak to Barclay privately, and he comes clean about everything and Barclay, while a little shocked, rolls with it very well and cups Joe's face in his hands and kisses him softly and it like,,, you should have come to me sooner, I'd do anything for you,,, and yeah it's really tender,,,,

Okay that's it I'm sorry it's so long and probably incoherent. I tried to use at least little formatting to make it better but it's a tumblr mobile ask, I'm not sure even the new paragraphs will translate over. The general idea is that they're close friends and Stern is Not Human and Barclay finds out under less than ideal circumstances :3 I know these are far from original or unique but I just wanted to share my ideas with you bc you're the inspiration for a good 70% of my private writings, but if you like them enough and ever feel like doing something with them that'd be cool ;3

Here you go! I went with scenario one. Content Note: some “mating” talk and mild subdrop at the end (which is, of course, taken care of)

The two canvas bags are ready to burst. Barclay peers into them, contemplating the addition of another box of tea, in case Joseph doesn’t like the other two. Mama was cagey when he asked, he doesn’t know what’s ailing the other man, only that he’s sick. 

Joseph manages Amnesty Lodge, where Barclays’ been a cook for the last six months. Barclay was initially wary of him; his cosmopolitan bearing and clean-cut appearance is so out of place in the rustic mountain town of Kepler that the logical explanation is he’s one of those city types who fell on hard times and got stuck here. 

It took less than forty-eight hours for him to prove Barclay wrong. Polite and polished, efficient and stunningly good in a crisis, Joseph handles the day to day chaos of the lodge while Mama, the owner, took care of the big picture stuff. His friendly greetings and consistent compliments about Barclays cooking gradually turned to afternoons spent at a table with his work so they could talk during lulls in business. 

When Joseph leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he helped Barclay tidy the kitchen, the cook rushed headlong into his crush and never looked back. He regularly dreams of blue eyes and a movie-star face, finds his day doesn’t really start until Joseph pokes his head in to say good morning. 

He’s been without that greeting for two days now. Joseph never misses work, and his sudden absence worried Barclay enough that he checked with Mama to be sure the manager was okay.

“Joe’s fine big fella, just under the weather is all.”

The one time Barclay got sick, Joseph brought him tea and soup himself, checked in on him every hour, and--if Barclay’s fever addled brain is to be trusted--fluffed his pillows. It’s the least Barclay can do to drop off snacks and be sure his friend is okay. 

It’s a short drive to cabin Joseph calls home; he used to live at the Lodge, but as it got more crowded, he moved to his own space so those who needed a cheap, safe place to stay could have one. 

His knock on the door is answered by a brisk, “Who is it?”

“Barclay. I, uh, I brought you a get-well gift.”

Joseph opens the door to the cabin and to an entire new universe of fantasies. His normally slicked-back hair falls, relaxed, across his forehead, his loosely tied blue robe shows a tantalizing V of skin, and the dreamy-sleepy expression makes his face even more kissable. 

“Hi.” Joseph takes a step forward, taking the bags and bringing his face achingly close to Barclays’. Then he freezes, reversing into the house, “I, um, it was very sweet of you to bring all this. But you need to go.” He takes another step back, then doubles over with a groan. 

Barclay hurries across the threshold, setting the bags on the floor and steadying him over to the couch.

“Fuck, do you need me to get you like a heat pack, or a puke bucket?”

“No, no I just need to lay down, and for you to g-” he shudders, curling in on himself and tipping sideways. 

“Joseph, you’re really sick, I’m not gonna just leave you here. I mean, fuck, what if it’s your appendix or something?” He sits down next to the shaking man, rubbing his back comfortingly. 

“It’s not, I promise. Oh lord” he whines, looks at Barclay with frantic eyes, “I hope you can keep a secret.”

“Of course I can. Whatever I can do to help, I want to.” 

“Careful with those promises, big guy.” The nickname comes out in a growl as Joseph stands, undoing his wristwatch. 

“Oh FUCK!” Barclay scrambles back, almost falling over the arm of the couch.

There’s a monster where Joseph just was. Years ago Barclay saw a Maned Wolf in a zoo, and he’d swear that’s what he’s looking at now were it not for several glaring issues. First, it’s standing comfortably on two legs. It’s paws are more like hands, able to hold the watch and adjust the collar of its shirt. And he’s never seen a wolf, maned or otherwise, with spines down its back and a whip-like tail.

The creature runs a clawed hand through the fur at the top of it’s head, the way Joseph does when he’s nervous,  “So. I can’t tell you everything, at least not right now. What I can tell you is that this is the form I was born into, somewhere far away from earth.”

“Okay.” Barclays brain grinds like a broken ice machine as a familiar voice speaks to him from a fanged mouth. 

“I, um, I’m what humans call a Chupacabra. To answer the usual questions: no, I’ve never been to Puerto Rico. No, I don’t eat goats. And no, I’m not going to eat you.”

“Okay.” His heart is still racing, but not from fear, which is the most confusing was this could have gone.

Pointed ears flick, worried, “Are you in shock?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He nods as Joseph sits next to him with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I took the next few days off to avoid this exact scenario. I figured I wouldn’t see you, but forgot how thoughtful and caring you are.” Claws gently stroke Barclays hair, “my wonderful Barclay.”

He’s about to bring his hand up, cup those strange fingers to his cheek and whisper “always”, when Joseph pulls away. 

“I, I’m sorry. Again. I always get too handsy when I’m in heat. That’s the second worst side-effect, after the fact that being in my disguise is untenable when I’m in the thick of it. It’s like wearing a wet, wool sweater made of nausea.”

“....Hold on, you had to take time off work because you’re horny?” 

“Almost. Heat doesn’t come that often for me, which means whenever it happens, it’s intense. I have a hard time eating or sleeping, I can’t focus, and I spend most of the week masturbating. Which is not as fun as it sounds; I’m not even at the height of the damn thing and last night I humped a pillow on the kitchen floor while dinner reheated.”

Barclay groans, tries to hide it when the ears swivel his way, “Uh, guess I’m glad I brought you lots of food so you remember to eat. Shoulda, uh, put some lube or something in there as well, huh?” 

Joseph chuckles, “My nose tells me you put molasses cookies in there, so I’ll let it slide.”

“There anything else I can do to help?”

“Well…” he shakes his head, “never mind, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Do what?”

“My heat is more manageable when I have a partner. Fucking someone relieves things more effectively than masturbation does. But I can’t-”

“I can help with that.” The offer is out before his brain catches up with his mouth. 

“Barclay, my kind have a very, um, involved mode of, um, well, I guess you foreplay. As, as much as I’d love for you to be my mate” he winces, “see, that’s what I mean. I say things like that, most of them not even possible given the fact you and I can’t reproduce.” 

“Uh, does it help if I say hearing you call me that is really hot?”

Blue eyes widen, and a tail traces up Barclays leg, “Only if you mean it.”

“I do.”

A narrow, long tongue flicks into the air, “In that case, big guy, how about we have a little planning session over dinner?”

-------------------------------------------------

Barclay parks in the driveway, next to Josephs’ sedan. He heads past the house and down a short slope to a creek, the twilight sky casting the forest in eerie grey-blue. There’s a tire swing leftover from a previous resident, and he idly pushes it back and forth as he waits for the game to start. 

“It’s like hide and seek” Joseph wipes his mouth, cleans cookie crumbs from the table, “We start outside, move inside, and you go as long as you can without me catching you. After all, I want a mate who can hold his own.”

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket to warm them. A yip bounces out from the trees behind him. When he turns, he quickly spots glinting eyes and bared fangs hidden in the undergrowth. 

Sprinting towards the cabin, he realizes Joseph laid a trap for him from the start; by asking him to begin at the creek, he’s forcing him to run uphill to safety, slowing him down. He lets his lizard-brain, concerned only with the fact that something dangerous is chasing him, take over and drive his legs as fast as they’ll go. The back door is locked, he double-checked that on the way down, so he doesn’t waste his time trying it, races to the front of the cabin and slams the door shut just as something huge rounds the corner after him. 

The nob jiggles, his pursuer testing the lock and discovering the thrown deadbolt. Barclay uses those few seconds to secure the windows on the first floor, throws his jacket down into the cellar as a failsafe, and bolts up to the bedroom. His hammering heart insists that locking that door is not enough, so he crawls into the closet and shuts himself up among the meticulously organized shirts and slacks. It’s not enough space for him to stand, so he tucks his knees to his chest and waits. 

“What happens if I, like, completely outsmart you.”

A toothy smile, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Each of the downstairs windows rattle in turn. Then the scratching starts, claws on wood coming closer with each breath. Joseph is climbing the wall up to the bedroom window that Barclay knows for a motherfucking fact he did not secure. 

A shuff as the window slides open, the cryptid landing with remarkable stealth on the bedroom floor. Barclay tracks him by the light coming under the closet door, his mouth covered so his breathing won’t give him away. The shadow pauses, sniffs, and then the bedroom door opens and shuts. Barclay’s not moving until he hears the front door do the same. 

Just as his legs start to protest being smushed up against his chest, the door reopens. Snuffling signals Joseph closing in, and an instant later the only light coming in is from the far ends of the door. Slowly, his last line of defense rolls to the right, revealing the creature crouching on the other side.

“Not a bad effort, big guy. You actually confused me for a minute with the scent trail of your coat downstairs.” Joseph reaches for him and Barclay, remembering that he’s not supposed to give up until he’s pinned, leans away. 

“That’s how my mate wants to play?”

“J-just following your instructions, babe.”

An intrigued purr, “I guess you are. All the more reason you’re the perfect partner for me.”

The words Barclays dreamed of hearing for months distract from the claws closing around his ankles. He lets out an undignified yelp when Joseph pulls his legs straight out and drags him out of the closet. Once he’s free of the forest of clothing, the cryptid picks him up and drops him on the bed. He moans and Joseph snickers, joining him on the bedspread. 

“Fuck, Joseph, no one’s ever been able to do that before and it’s so, so fucking hot.” He arches his back and shifts his limbs to help Joseph undress him.

“It’s because you’re the perfect size; big and strong, large enough to give me a decent cuddle when I’m human, but still small enough to be an easily subdued mate.” He gets the humans’ jeans and boxers off, hesitates, and then tosses them on the floor with a pained expression, “I’ll fold those later.”

“Gonna hold you to that. Also, wanna point out that it wasn’t that easy to subdue me.”

Joseph nuzzles his cheek, claws caressing his thighs, “Barclay, I was jogging while you were sprinting.”

“You coulda caught me right awaAAy ohwhatthefuck.” Tingling heat glides down his throat as Joseph licks a stripe along the skin, “fuck, it, it feels like the time I tried hot wax.”

The cryptid sits up slightly to look at him, “Is that a...good thing?”

“Fuck yeah. I really fucking liked it but it was fucking murder with the chest hair.”

Joseph runs his claws through the hair in question, “I like it.”

“I know, I saw you eyeing me that one time I used the springs at the lodge.”

“You can’t prove anything.” Joseph leans back down, curling his tongue around Barclays left nipple. The sensation makes him buck his hips, which Joseph correctly takes as a signal for more. He moves to the other side, takes his time teasing it and licking down the sensitive center of Barclays chest. Noses his stomach, nips his sides, and slides the alien heat of his tongue into the crease of his thighs. 

“Y’know I, ohfuck, I assumed from all that talk yesterday you’d get right to fucking me.”

Joseph kisses the inside of one thigh, “I, um, I thought about it, almost ripped your jeans to shreds and took you on the floor. But I wanted to be sure you were turned on. You’re not just a warm body, Barclay. You’re my mate. That means your pleasure matters as much as mine.” He licks up Barclays’ cock, hardened from rubbing against the soft fur of his belly, and sighs, “and what a mate.”

“Fuck” he squeezes his eyes closed because if we watches that mouth saying everything he wants to hear in between sucking his dick, he’ll cum in ten seconds flat. 

A final lick to the tip and then Joseph hops off the bed, “Did you prep the way I told you?”

“Uhhuh.” 

“Good.” Joseph returns, sets several items he can’t see by his feet, “that’ll make things easier. First things first” he produces a cock cage, sliding it into place, “these are a few things I smuggled over from my original home. This is enchanted, so it can go on an erect cock but still prevent the wearer from cumming until it’s removed.”

“That’s just cruel, babe.” He sits up on his elbows to kiss Josephs snout, earning him a pleased yip. 

“If you cum too fast, I won’t be able to properly breed you.” He winces again, “sorry, I sound like one of Indrids romance novels.”

“Again, gorgeous, I find it really fucking hot.”

The spines on Joseph’s back ripple, “You think I’m gorgeous? Like this?”

“I do. Also kinda scary, but in a hot way.” Now it’s his turn to cringe, “see? I sound like cheap porn written by an eighth grader when I’m horny. The way you sound is fine.”

Joseph lovebites his ear, then retrieves the other two items from the end of the bed. 

“And how does this look, big guy?”

“Like it’s either going to kill me or make me cum like a dozen times.” He furrows his brow at the strap-on. It’s narrower than the average human dick, with a pointed, slightly up-curved tip. What’s worrying him are the spikes. 

The entire shaft is coated in short protrusions. They don’t end in points, thank god, but if they’re at all stiff this is going to be miserable. 

“Here” Joseph waves him over, “touch it.” He guides his fingers along one side and the spines bend fluidly under his touch, and now all he wants to know is how they feel inside him. Joseph also moans, bucking his hips so the toy slides along Barclays palm.

“It’s, ohlord, also enchanted so that the wearer feels it as an extension of their body and can cum with it. Also, please decide in the next thirty seconds whether you want to be on your back or your stomach.” Amber pre-cum drips down Barclay’s fingers. 

“Stomach is better for meWHOAH, ohfuck, okay we’re doing this.” Now flipped on his belly, he raises his ass. The cryptid kneads it appreciatively before holding it open and sliding his cock in with once, graceful thrust. 

He bottoms out with a groan, which is more articulate than Barclay is managing to be as the spines rub and glide inside him, finding every patch of nerves, every angle to drag against in just the right way. Joseph hauls him onto his knees and then he’s off, growls and yips filling the as he fucks him. Barclay only just registers the bed banging into the wall so forcefully the headboard is cracking when claws sink into his hips and Joseph pulls him all the way onto his cock and pulses into him. 

“Holy fuck that was fast.”

“I, I didn’t jack off once today. Didn’t want to waste it, wanted to save it all for my perfect mate.” He’s thrusting again, not as hard but twice as fast, “shit, you feel so good, big guy, please tell me Mama okayed your time off for tomorrow.”

“Wh-why are we talkingAHnnn, about this now?”

Hot breath tickles his ear, “Because now that I know what’s like to cum in you, I don’t plan on cumming anywhere else for the next day and a half.”

“Ohfuckme” Barclay groans happily into the pillows as Joseph empties into him, cries out when his tail whips across his calf.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no it felt good, fucking-A babe every fucking part of you is amazing.”

The cryptid whines, pleased, and wiggles his hips, giving Barclay an idea. 

“That’s, uh, that’s why I want you for my mate, because you’re so fucking goo-mmph” his face presses harder into the pillows as Joseph pins his shoulders down and fucks into him, snarling “yes” over and over again. When he finishes this time he hunches over, nipping Barclay’ shoulders and neck. 

“You catch on quick, big guy.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, are we gonna switch it up at any point or am I staying like this until tomorrow night?”

“No, we can fuck however we want. After” a fuzzy hand rubs circles on Barclay’s abdomen, “I’ve cum in you enough times that I can feel it from out here.”

Barclay moans, tightening around him as his hips snap once more, already imagining being full and fucked out. Maybe it’ll take all night. He’ll be limp if it does, but right now nothing sounds better than melting into the bed while Joseph fucks his ass like it belongs to him. 

After forty-five minutes, his cock is aching, his mind holds only thoughts of how good it feels to do as Joseph tells him, and he’s been cum in so many times that wet, obscene sounds accompany the cryptids thrusts. Said sounds pale in comparison to Josephs’ voice, which is spinning increasingly impossible scenarios the longer they’re in bed. 

“I hope they take after you.” Joseph murmurs. 

Barclay just manages to turn his head, “Who?”

A muzzle playfully nudges his cheek, “Our kids.”

His heart seizes and shakes at the words; they both know that’s not what will happen. Joseph warned him he might say things like this, said he could tell him to knock it off if need be. 

“Maybe they’ll, ahnn, they’ll have big, beautiful brown eyes and bigger hearts, just like you.”

He doesn’t want him to stop. Every thrust hits deeper, every point where their skin meets buzzes brighter when he talks like this.

“H-hope at least one looks like you, blue eyes.”

A guttural whine, tingling heat as Joseph laps tenderly at the back of his neck, “We’ll just have to see, usually we’re born in threes so, soOH, oh I’m close, shitshit” 

“That’s it babe, fill me up, c’mon, c’mon I want it so bad, Joseph, baby, please.” 

There’s a howltrill as cum spurts into him, Joseph panting as he smooths his hand around Barclays side.

“There, that’s done it.”

Barclay whimpers as he pulls out, his mind and body pulled tight, certain that if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll propose marriage instead and that’ll be a fucking disaster. 

Joseph carefully rolls him over and unlocks the cage, “Do you want to cum?”

“More than anything. Oh!” he’s unprepared for Joseph to sink down on his cock, “oh fuck, yeah, wanna cum so bad babe please, I’ll be so good, be such a good mate if you just let me cum in y-fuuuck” A trio of sensations levels him as he climaxes; his vision whites out, his hips jerk more violently than they ever have before, and a line of cum drips down his leg. 

Somewhere far away, Joseph says, “I think we’ve earned a break.”

He nods, body limp as the cryptid climbs off him. Then he’s falling, spinning helplessly down in a pit of realizations. 

Joseph didn’t mean any of those things he said. His friend needed a mate and Barclay, lovesick fool he is, was eager for a chance to play pretend that he didn’t think about what would happen when the game ended. Even if Joseph keeps him here through tomorrow, the next time they meet at the Lodge he’ll act like nothing happened. 

Fuck, Barclay didn’t even get to kiss him during all this, and now he’ll never get the chance, never, nevernever-

“Shit, I should have put a towel or a spare blanket down. Now I’ll have to strip the bed before I can--Barclay? Oh, oh baby, what’s wrong?” A hand pets his face and he turns away from it, refusing to open his eyes. Joseph takes his hand instead, “it’s okay, I’m here, whatever you need I’ll-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t give me what I need, it isn’t your fault I, I know I’m not really your partner and I, I…” he sniffles, wipes his palm under his eye. 

“Barclay, look at me please.”

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes just in time to see Joseph dip down and kiss him. It’s awkward, their mouths not made to fit together, but he savors it all the same because it’s Joseph, his Joseph, kissing him like he hoped he would. 

“My heat can make me say some ridiculous things. What it can’t do is make me feel affection where none exists. In fact, the reason I wasn’t able to keep my disguise on yesterday is because being near you meant being near the mate I wanted most in the world. I, um, suspected you might share my feelings, but I didn’t want our first interaction as boyfriend to be me asking if you wanted to spend a day or so with me while I was in a sex haze. But then you offered to help, and I wanted it so badly that I barreled ahead without making sure you understood that this was me declaring my feelings. I’m sorry.”

Barclay climbs into his lap, not caring about the mess he makes in the process. The cryptid laughs, hugs him close.

“I, I shoulda said something sooner too. Not that I regret how we spent our first date.” He kisses Josephs chin.

“Me neither, though I don’t think it quite counts.” He rubs their foreheads together, “can your boyfriend take you out to dinner on Friday?”

Barclay grins, looks into loving, blue eyes, “Yeah, he can.”

[amphtaminedreams]

Spring/Summer & Haute Couture Week 2021: Whoops, I’ve Missed a Loooot (Part 2)

Hey to anyone reading,

I’m so sorry for the gap between the last fashion week review post and this one! Argh. I had no idea I posted it as long ago as the beginning of March but I think we can all agree that lockdown has fucked with our perceptions of time completely. I wish I could say the delay in posting was as simple as me being busy but I’ve also started to reflect on whether or not I want to carry on this format of posts for the time being; on the scale of problems, this one is wayyy down there in the very lower quartile of the first world region, but my motivation to carry on this kind of content in the form of long-winded text posts is...meh...not so much there anymore. At first I was thinking the issue was that working on these was my last priority on my daily to-do lists but as I’ve got back into writing fiction, it’s kind of occurred to me that the fact I was putting these posts on my to-do lists in the first place along with things like doing the ironing and contacting student finance speaks volumes. When I’m back from work or winding down, opening up Tumblr and coming back to this draft isn’t something that I think of as a fun stress reliever in the way drafting stories is. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my imagination or my creativity or expressing myself in any way and it’s not much of an escape from day to day life in the way that writing dialogue or exploring characters is. Maybe it’s because I’ve done quite a few of these posts now but I just tend to feel like I’m repeating myself, you know kinda like when you’re writing an essay and trying to fill up a word count; of course there are collections that I do have a lot of opinions on but by and large, sometimes it boils down to THESE CLOTHES ARE JUST FUCKING PRETTY, OKAY?! There’s only so many things you can say about a tulle skirt or an exaggerated collar before you want to strangle yourself with said tulle. I used to think iF VoGUe RuNwaY wRitErs CaN dO iT WhAT's MY exCusE until I realised that 1). Vogue Runway writers actually get paid and 2). for the most part all they do is explain the designer's intentions behind the collections verbatim without giving a critical opinion anyway.

I think a lot of the pressure I feel to justify what are in reality quite simple observations and opinions goes back to some of the feelings I explained in my first ever fashion week review where people who know more about fashion and have a formal education in the subject tend to be kind of gatekeep-y and elitist. It can never be that you appreciate different things about a collection but rather than one of you has taste and the other doesn’t and if it wasn’t obvious, the taste level assigned to you by the powers that be tend to positively correlate with the amount of money you have available to spend on a degree that has a reputation for failing to provide a steady income, which for most makes it an unrealistic avenue to pursue. I know, I know, the pressure is totally self-inflicted and wholly imagined seeing as I have under 500 followers on here and those who do interact with these posts most likely do so for the pictures but I still feel it, and given that I’m going to have enough external pressure to write essays when I return to uni in September, why on earth am I wasting time putting it on myself? When just posting photosets of my favourite looks is not only actually enjoyable for me but is also what other people WANT to see too? Nobody wants to read a self-indulgent paragraph like this when they’re here for the clothes and to be honest, for the most part I don’t want to write them anyway unless it’s something I have strong feelings about or if a collection can only be properly appreciated with analysis. I think I’ve made pretty clear which designers I’m a fan of, do you really need to hear me raving about Gucci or Zimmerman or Miu Miu or Balenciaga again? Is there gonna be anything revolutionary in yet another rant about Maria Grazia? Course not. I mean, if you are reading, you might have to witness those things one last time because I do intend to finish off this season’s review in this format for consistency purposes and because I’ve already got all the notes now but on the whole, I doubt anyone will miss my rambles.

So, with all that in mind, I think after I finish my S/S21 posts I am gonna start just uploading these posts without the written part. I mean, for one, the simplicity of doing this means I’m much less likely to procrastinate making them which in turn means I’ll be able to get them out right after the shows as a kind of summary as opposed to months later when they’re no longer as relevant. This will also give me more time to work on the writing I actually enjoy. Right now I’m going through and editing my 17 year old self’s “grown-up” take on the Pretty Little Liars blackmail murder mystery style plot line which I wrote back when I was completely and utterly obsessed with the show and bitterly disappointed by the last couple of seasons. The writing is pretty mediocre and often hugely cringey to read back now but I am still a fan of the basic plot and I’m genuinely motivated to see if I can make it something actually worth reading, and to get onto that ASAP; this feels especially important right now given that the HBO version of the series’ apparent upcoming release has sent that ever-present writer’s fear of seeing-your-same-storyline-done-better-by-somebody-else-thus-forever-relegating-your-version-to-being-the-poor-imitation-so-you-gotta-get-there-first into overdrive (or maybe that’s just me and my neuroses). Again, it’s a totally unfounded fear based on the fact that the HBO show will probs get millions of viewers whilst I will be doing little more than shouting into the void but anybody who’s used Turnitin to submit an essay that ultimately counts for little more than like 1% of your grade or degree will know that no matter how irrelevant your work is, the concept of failing a plagiarism check, be it via a computer algorithm or one random stranger on the internet’s assessment, is enough to conjure visions of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse galloping towards you screaming “START THE WHOLE THING AGAIN” before releasing a hoarde of 2015 Chanel vs. Walmart style comparison memes.

Now, speaking of Chanel, I should probably get back into the reviewing. 

So for the last time for a little while, here’s Christian Siriano:

Siriano’s designs are a great example of work I feel guilty enjoying. I know that when it comes to quality, the high fashion community have a lot of (negative) things to say and I really can’t speak to that because quite honestly, I know very little about textile manufacturing. Solely from my own point of view though, I do like his work a lot. I wouldn’t claim for a minute that he’s a pioneer in terms of his creations but I would 100% love to wear them and I DO hugely admire his commitment to putting women of all sizes on the runway and designing pieces that don’t simply cater to straight up and down types which is more than can be said for most brands. I get that his collections are pretty formulaic, taking what has worked for the likes of Chanel and Alessandra Rich, De La Renta and Carolina Herrera, Michael Kors too (who is kind of guilty of the same thing himself), but that’s not to say his work is bad. Let’s be real, we’ve been on this planet thousands of years, we’re all taking inspiration from someone, and maybe figures like Kors and Siriano could wait a *little* longer before taking said inspiration but their aim at the end of the day is to sell clothes, not break barriers, a task which although often left to the big name brands, they too often fail at. I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling this whimsical mid-century tea party vibe, it’s elegant and it’s cutesy and My Fair Lady-esque, and you bet your arse I would be absolutely thrilled to wear one of these looks on a summer red carpet. I just can’t say no to anything tulle-maybe it’s that I was on Toddlers & Tiaras in a past life or maybe it’s that I watched too many Barbie Princess films growing up, but I like pretty much everything going on here, especially Siriano is giving us matching fedoras too. Plus, can we take a moment to praise Siriano for his COVID relief efforts? Near the beginning of the pandemic, he turned his studio into a mask manufacturing factory in order to send them out as donations, and I think that is very cool.

Then there’s Christopher Kane who once again came through with the most insanely gorgeous prints:

I mean, paint splattering is hardly a new technique but I haven’t seen it done as a print so tastefully before-it eats the Moschino biro scribble print (which apparently was copied too speaking of the tendencies of designers to “borrow” inspiration) for breakfast. It’s shit because there weren’t many looks in this collection and they weren’t really shot in a way that does them any justice but I thought I’d include the few I saved.

Comme Des Garcons is a fave of the high fashion community and one I look forward to seeing at fashion week but can never quite get behind. I appreciate the what-the-fuckery of it all with this show totally being able to pass as a run-through of some kind of nuclear waste themed scare house at one of Thorpe Park’s fright nights. I assume given that and the plastic Mickey Mouse print it’s supposed to be some kind of reference to the part late-stage capitalism has played in the hellish landscape we find ourselves in today? Or something all intellectual? In which case I made my interpretation with farrrr too much confidence. But Anyway! Who knows! I’ll leave the analysis to the fashion students, and give it one word: trippy.

Onto Dion Lee, a brand I truly do get excited to talk about because it’s rare that I don’t LOVE his work.

Without fail, Lee manages to be confidently ahead of the curve without going out of his way to announce it and his genius to everyone with flamboyant shows and exaggerated designs and extortionate prices. He is very much an underdog in the fashion world in terms of big names but you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t love his collections. His S/S21 collection is one of my favourites of the bunch. I love seeing something I’ve never seen before and the palm leaf breast plate is so odd but so cool and so perfectly Dion Lee at the same time; we’ve seen jungle/tropical inspired collections sooo many times *cough cough D&G cough cough* and THIS is how you make them fresh and unique. I mean, never in a million years did I think I’d get behind the resurgence of the gladiator sandal trend but Lee has me changing my mind. This is one of the very rare times you will ever see me using this meme to praise a man but:

I mean, he has Fernanda Ly modelling for him, that the man has taste goes without saying.

Now for a bit of a full circle moment, given that I did actually praise Dior’s haute couture collection in my first ever post; Maria Grazia did GOOD. Well, with haute couture at least.

She’s always pretty hamfisted with her references, there’s no denying, with that Grecian Goddess style RTW collection typifying that statement completely, but luckily she struck gold this time round; as someone who studied the Tudors for A-level history, seeing a modern take on the exaggeratedly feminine renaissance silhouettes with the baroque prints and the deep jewell tones got me super excited especially when you throw in the dreamy tarot theming and the nods to the mystical and arcane. Seeing as the Heavenly Bodies Met Gala (I know, I know, I need to move on) was some time ago now and Cersei Lannister’s *SPOILER* been crushed by a rock (could also be seen as a metaphor for the irrelevancy David Benioff and D.B Wise condemned GoT to when they aired that shitty ending tehe) and so probably won’t be getting a collection based on her costumes any time soon, this is the only fashion take on this kind of period dress I’m going to get…and you know what? I’m okay with that. Thanks Maria, I guess?

Her RTW collection wasn’t absolutely awful either, and slightly better than the past few collections at least. Put a monkey in a room with a typewriter (or show it enough similar well-received collections) and it will eventually write something that makes sense, don’t they say? I like the nomadic feel of a lot of the looks and there’s beautiful layering going on but the aura of exotic opulence unsurprisingly didn’t stick around for long and I found that there was a decline in quality in the midsection of the show that landed a lot of the outfits in either awkward mother of the bride at a beach wedding or The Only Way is Essex Ocean Beach PLT sponsored poolside party territory. The looks picked back up a bit towards the end stretch of the show but I wasn’t a fan of the Gucci style oversized glasses which were so out of place with the rest of the theming that if anything they seemed like a cheap grab at relevancy. So yeah, a middling, subpar Etro-esque collection which is better than usual for Dior I suppose.

Next, Elie Saab, whose S/S21 collection was kinda disappointing, tbh. Oh how the turns have tabled given that positive Dior review and my usual love of Saab’s collections.

I know his dresses lose some of their appeal when we can’t see them in motion but even ON the runway I can’t see myself being dazzled by any of these pieces the way I usually am. They’re lacking the level of detail and craftsmanship I associate with the brand seemingly in favour of block colours and suits and the issue is that the whole Disney Princess fantasy has always been the appeal for me because the silhouettes aren’t interesting enough on their own. They’re not ugly pieces, they’re nice, but does nice really have a place in high fashion when the pieces are so basic in both their design and presentation that the shots could pass as ripped from a catalogue? The strongest parts of the collection were when it did go down the more delicate route with the muted blue suits and the white feather trimmed dresses, the small, ornamental gold details reminding me of a very toned down nod to Schiaparelli’s hardware, but with regards to the bright coloured pieces, I can’t lie-they did look like something you could find in the M&S Per Una holiday section. Then you’ve got the weakest parts, which were just flat out ugly: sheer giraffe print, sweat band style elasticated waits, and long chiffon shirts that I hate to admit read as frumpy. There are times where I’ve not been particularly excited by an Elie Saab collection in the past, but I do think this is the first time I’ve actively disliked parts of it.

Conversely, Erdem’s S/S21 collection was super strong, and solidified the brand’s place in my mind as a dependable source of kooky maximalism, this time round giving us  Anya Taylor Joy’s Emma wardrobe on speed. You could tell me Erdem Moralıoğlu had just raided the Bridgerton set’s fitting rooms and put it on a runway and I would 100% believe you and I mean that in a positive way because to give my unpopular opinion, the clothes were the only good thing about that show. The endearingly florid details of exaggerated bows and clashing florals were still there but this time in a way that felt more subtle and self-assured, as if the calming influence of the wooded set’d had a direct hand in the designs, giving the rugged, ethereal feel to the collection I associate with brands like Brock and Simone Rocha, all whilst keeping the parts of Erdem I’m so fond of.

Is it really much of a shock that I included pretty much every look from the Etro S/S21 show?  Like, you know that Christian idea of God, like, (the voice in my head is very much taking on the dumb valley girl voice that anybody who reads this is most probably getting too) knowing our souls? I think Veronica Etro knows mine. So no, no surprise. Though there were a few unconventional touches thrown into these looks (the campier prints and nautical theming we see with the 80s beach towel print, for example, reminded me a bit of Versace) the mystical bohemian it girl that Etro designs for would still be highly satisfied. Sure, it might be a wardrobe fit for a holiday less adventurous than backpacking but if she wanted a tropical poolside holiday, this collection is the one, the paisley print chiffon mini and maxi dresses especially. I’m just gonna pretend I don’t see the monstrosity that is leggings worn as trousers-it’s a fashion rule I refuse to abandon-because they are the only stain on an otherwise expectedly gorgeous collection.

Next, an unusually reserved RTW collection from Fendi:

More in line with the wardrobe of a European fashion editor than the glamorous trophy wife (who let’s say uses that facade as a guise to ruthlessly run her husband’s whole business empire from behind the scenes because in this house we do complex female characters only), these pieces are lot “smarter” and more professional looking than Fendi’s typical offerings; where I feel Fendi usually designs for the society girl who wouldn’t mind a front page scandal, these are the kind of outfits a young member of Monaco’s royal family would wear for a positively received but business-as-usual press tour. I know, Fendi is an Italian brand, but this is more Southern France to me. We’re talking some 2nd page shots of a Kate Middleton type on a yacht on the Riviera smiling and waving as her PR team’s ideal scenario. Still, whilst fewer exaggerated silhouettes, animal prints and overtly luxurious fabrics (real leathers, silks and furs for example) mean that the drama’s a little toned down, it’s all still very expensive looking and combines the classically feminine glamour of the past and the minimalism of modernity in the artful manner that we’re used to. Maybe it’s me being a basic bitch but I always love seeing Ashley Graham on the runway too, even if brands to tend to use her as their single token plus size model.

Kim Jones’ debut haute couture collection for Fendi, however, wasn’t a very well received one. I don’t hate it personally but I can see where the criticisms are coming from. Whilst it’s closer to the version of Fendi I’ve come to expect and there were some stunning pieces which completely encapsulated that distinctive aura of luxe and glamour, there were quite a few lazy pieces which could’ve been from any designer. I also felt the collection was a bit upstaged by what seemed to be a who’s who of the modelling world; having Bella, Cara, Kate and Naomi ALL walk in one show was a bit distracting and took the focus off the clothes completely.

Giambattista Valli’s RTW collection was gorgeous as ever; the man has undeniably mastered the art of delivering classic, objective elegance, the kind of designs I feel would make you light on your feet and smell like strawberries and cream the minute you put one on. Whilst as a brand his RTW shows are rarely trendsetting, they reliably produce a plethora of unfailingly graceful and demure pieces, as appealing to your mum and your grandma as they are to young women and little girls, and this collection is another victory lap for Valli when it comes to upholding his signature tea party and artisan cupcake making and rose garden strolling and bottomless rosé brunch appropriate aesthetic. There were a lot of outfits that were bordering on overly juvenile, with structures a little too basic to justify the amount of sequins thrown on, but when it’s good, it’s so sweet that regardless of how to formula it is, I can’t help but fall in love.

Valli’s haute couture collection was stunning too and for sure a more exciting offering than the RTW. There was of course a lot of the signature tulle but it was head-turning, over the top in a way that leant far more towards the experimental than I expected. The photos themselves are 100% believable as a some kind of Vogue behind the scenes editorial shoot on the set of live action Disney princess movie (in between takes of the climactic ball scene if you wanna get specific with the vision); if you are looking for a prettier alternative to the primary colours and disruptive shapes of a Molly Goddard collection, this is the one. It’s giving the themes of excess and abundance I associate with that of the Hunger Games Capitol but through the softer lens of a Sofia Coppola movie, and being the typical cinema loving white girl I am, I’m obviously on board with that vibe.

I did SUCH a 180 on Givency’s S/S21 collection from when I first saw it to writing a review. My initial reaction was one of disappointment, I guess simply because Givenchy has given us so many bold pieces and presentations over the last few years whereas this is more low-key. After properly considering it though as I would any other brand, I came to the conclusion that I do actually really like it. It’s still got the strange, androgynous silhouettes popping up throughout and the futuristic space-age details but with a more down-to-earth, streetwear feel, albeit a very slick, glossy spin on the trends of the rabble (that’s us guys) of course before we go believing it’s achievable. On the one hand, the devil horn accents are a touch Claire’s accessories halloween range but at the same time, done with confidence they’re kind of cool and bring something new and fun to the table in line with the dark theatre of Givenchy’s last few shows.

Now for Gucci, which for the first time I have to say, if I'm attempting objectivity, is not a standout. 

Like, can I just start by saying though the format it’s presented in is cute, it’s not ideal as a way of actually showing the collection. I get that the vintage shop bin vibe is a huge part of Gucci’s brand but polaroids make it SO hard to actually see the clothes, and that’s what we’re here for right? I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t like what I see here-the clothes are gorgeous, an idyllic ode to the off-duty wardrobes of Studio 54-ers, bohemian style icons like Charlotte Rampling and young Olivia Newton-John, psychedelic rock guitarists and the inhabitants of San Fransisco’s Haight during the late 60s and early 70s, Alessandro Michele’s favourite period of reference. I can’t pretend otherwise, or act like I wouldn’t want to wear the shit out of this collection. Buut, for Gucci? It’s a little underwhelming. These are the kind of filler looks we get in a typical Gucci show to go alongside the more statement pieces, which this collection is lacking. It’s just that these are designs which usually gets people talking and these pieces don’t do that. It sucks because for most other brands this would be a stand out collection, an immersive, luscious vignette of what people tend to think of as a cultural golden era, but when you’ve had a show that involved models carrying replicas of their own decapitated heads down the runway in the last 5 years, of course something more toned down like this is gonna generate a lot of “is that it?”s.

I owe Hermes an apology. Looking back, I have disliked all their previous collections for the same reason that I now really like this one; maybe it’s in part down to the frustration of still having to whack out the winter coat on occasion in May (fuck British weather and climate change), but suddenly I really appreciate the value of some good quality, versatile outerwear. Hermes is giving us that in spades here and for that, I bow down to them. The pieces on offer are clearly well-made and genuinely practical, and through the minimalist approach manage to retain both an air of timeless sophistication whilst also being youthful and on trend. The leather tactical vest co-ord I can easily see edged up and taking centre stage on one of those insane Seoul street style slow-mo TikToks that were big a couple of months ago and there are several pieces that could tie together a grunge influenced k-style look just as well as they could exist for years on end as the wardrobe staple of a high-powered businesswoman. Designer Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski’s strengths really come through with the simpler looks and it’s the patterned pieces that drag down an otherwise flawless collection; I guess because the aesthetic is very minimalist, the patterns can’t be anything overly decorative but unfortunately this has a bit of a dowdy effect when you pair it with such modest silhouettes. Disregarding those elements of the collection though, it was super good.

It goes without saying that Iris Van Herpen’s haute couture collection was breathtaking; if the fashion community can agree on anything, it’s that this woman’s work is consistently awe-inspiring. She captures the wonder of the universe, the biological structures and kaleidoscopic colours we don’t even register, through fashion in a way that others can only imitate, to mesmerising, truly transcendent effect; I can only assume Van Herpen has mother nature whispering into her ear because how the hell else do you explain her ability to take the kind of microscopic organisms they show you images of in an outdated GCSE science powerpoint and make a dress that resembles one so stunning? Care to explain, Iris? Because if there is some kind of line of communication between the two of you can you please tell the bitch I’m over this weather and that I have cute summer outfits I’m waiting to wear so can she pack this torrential rain shit in? K, thanks xoxo

See it seems shady as fuck to go from IVH to Isabel Marant like this because we are talking 2 designers with totallyyyy different approaches to fashion; Iris Van Herpen is haute couture for starters whereas Marant is commercial, and that’s her thing, but unfair comparisons aside this collection is still a bit of a let down. This is considering I do usually really like Isabel Marant collections based on whether or not I’d wear the pieces, which seems a more appropriate barometer to use to come to a quality verdict. Whilst there were a few of the elegant bohemian pieces my mind goes to when it comes to her brand, the steps outside of that comfort zone didn’t pay off; graffiti print (can be cool if done with some subtlety which apart from a few exceptions was not the case here), cheap looking reflective fabric, and MC Hammer style dungarees, it seems to be an attempt to merge 80s trends with modern urban culture, and an attempt that at times verged on the disastrous. It’s good for a brand to experiment, of course, and appeal to a wider client base than usual, but when it’s bad the unfortunate take away is that the design team don’t have the chops to pull off straying from familiar territory; designers wouldn’t be showing at fashion week if this was truly the case because disregarding the influence of nepotism, fashion is an area you need real talent, perseverance and business smarts to excel in, and so it doesn’t do a team justice when they do fail.

J.W Anderson, on the other hand, really put his best foot forward this season and presented this work in a really cool way too which only added to the positives; whilst the way the shots were edited was funky af, it didn’t detract from the actual outfits, and if we are to see the same limitations when it comes to the F/W collections being released, this is something a lot of designers and editing teams should take note of. The idiosyncratic exaggerated shapes that we see as a recurring feature of Anderon’s collections were still on show but this time round with added femininity, billowing skirts and trailing jewellery that channel the stage looks of Stevie Nicks in a way that’s modern and functional and maybe even fit for the office if you were to work in a more creative industry with a chill boss. Could also work for a coven of witches who practice meditation by bonfires in the moonlight and burn the letters of men who wronged them in some Arizonian desert, so like I said, functional! Who doesn’t like versatility? The only thing I’m not too keen on is the shoes but they’re not so bad that it affects my opinion of the collection and they look comfy I guess.

Lastly, we’ve got to talk about Jacquemus, one of the most influential names in fashion at the moment. And yes, this time round, I’m doing it: I’m buying into the hype.

This collection is gorgeousss! I can see already that a lot of the recurring elements of the show are going to be big summer trends for this year (the cut outs and strappy details on the blouses are everywhere already) even though it isn’t hot enough to have collectively decided the time to start dressing for heat is upon us yet, and that’s always a good indicator of how successful the designer was in their vision and attempts to assess the needs and wants of fashion enthusiasts; whether I’m as big a fan of his work as everyone else seems to be, there’s no denying Simon Porte Jacquemus has always excelled at this practice if the buzz around him is anything to go by. It makes sense given the last year of us all being stuck in and suppressed that a lot of us are already romanticising the summer ahead, anticipating picnics and beach days and general Theresa May running through wheat fields type shenanigans galore, in spite of how dubious an assumption it is to make that British weather will allow for this; Porte Jacquemus has very much catered to this wishful thinking and the popularity of the whole escapist “cottage core” aesthetic, sexing it up a little bit with pieces that hug the body in ways only Mugler knows how whilst being lightweight and relaxed enough to look good with windswept, sandy hair and a little dose of sunburn. I’m talking enough to give you some cutesy freckles and rosy cheeks not PSA on the importance of suncream territory, guys, what is it with those of us on the gen Z/millennial cusp not taking sun damage seriously!? Why do I have to beg so many of my friends to wear it!? Does nobody else remember those photos they’d show you in PSHE in English primary schools of burnt people’s skin under UV lights? Or is that just me being weird and only having such a vivid memory of the images because teachers told us we had to wait until year 6 to see them due they to their “graphic” nature only for my gore-loving self to be extremely underwhelmed when we finally did get that lesson? They showed us a woman giving birth in year 4 for fuck’s sake. THAT was traumatising.

Back to the actual point anyway, with just a couple of negatives, the first of which being that the pieces are very similar to those feminine looks we saw dotted about the Jacquemus menswear collection from last year that were all over fashion Twitter. In Simon Porte Jacquemus’ defence though, it makes sense that those tones and silhouettes would be revisited in a full womenswear collection for that very reason; considering they went down so well and that lockdown gave us a bit of a half-baked summer in 2020, expanding on those elements enough for a whole new collection makes good business sense. We did get some cool additions too, mainly in the form of accessories, with the hardware details on the belts similar to those included in the Givenchy collection and the abstract hair slides being standouts for me. It was all exquisite-the shoes, the jewellery, the styling, everything 10/10. My other nitpick, and I say nitpick not because it’s not important but because it’s an issue that’s hardly restricted to Jacquemus (this casting team are far from the worst offenders, Saint Laurent I’m looking at you), is that I WISH we’d see more diversity with the models. Despite what my body dysmorphia yells at me, I am small, and yet seeing all those fucking minuscule waists made me die a little inside; it’s crazy to me that in 2020 the lack of variety in body types on the runway is still such a problem.

I must have said this a million times but I don’t want to end on a negative note so let me reiterate: this collection was STUN. NING. Plus there were some others I’ve talked about in this post that I’m sure will make it into my top 20 in the final part, Jacquemus, Dion Lee and Etro for sure; we even got some gorgeous pieces from Maria Grazia which I thought was a sentence I’d never type out. Have I said enough to not leave a bad taste in the mouth of anyone who read to the end of this post? I hope so, lol! TBH, it’s impressive given everything that’s going on that the majority of designers did roll out collections in September as usual so serious respect to them and their design teams for that.

In the next post, I’ll fingers crossed be able to include everything from Kim Shui (exciting!) through to at least Off-White (actually pretty good this time?!) and make this whole thing a 4 parter before getting straight on top of the photo posts I’m thinking about doing for the time being for the F/W21 shows. So as usual, if you did read to the end thank you so much and I respect the perseverance you must have to get through all my rambling, lmao. Hope everyone is well and coping okay and again, my inbox is always open for any post suggestions, constructive criticism, or just a chat for anyone who needs a listening ear.

Big love and thank you again!

Lauren x

[mrsren]

Could you do a Tom+Hermione fic rec please? I’m just starting to get into it and I’ve read some good ones but I’d always love more (can never have too many fics you know?)

Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger is my OTP, and I haven’t read all the fics that are about them, but I’ve read a healthy amount. After writing out this rec list, I realized that I didn’t organize the categories very well, but I hope you find something you enjoy! I included the summaries as well. 

I tried to tag the users I know, but tumblr was not working with me. If the links are formatted incorrectly, I’ll fix them after work. 

If you’re looking for more organized asks, check out tomionefinds! They’re fantastic.

If you’re looking for fics over 100k that are currently completed:

Somewhere In Time by Serpent In Red

Sent back in time by a mysterious person and trapped in the past with a missing Dumbledore and an overbearing, charismatic Dark Lord, they had no idea how much they could dabble with before the world they had known shattered into pieces.

All the Wrong Choices by Queen of Dreamers 

Hermione is kidnapped by Severus Snape and taken to Lord Voldemort, who behaves in a bizarrely familiar manner with Hermione. When she's rocketed back in time by Voldemort, she realises just why he knew her so well in the 1990s - it was because he'd known her very well indeed, as Tom Riddle, in an entirely different time. She had to go back because she'd been there. Re-upload.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12803416/1/All-the-Wrong-Choices

Serpentine Moves by betagyre 

Medieval Norman Conquest AU.

Fourteen years after eloping with a Muggle, Merope Riddle, of an English wizarding noble family, discovers that she and her son are the last of the line, so she petitions for her title and fiefdom back. Meanwhile Lord and Lady Granger are minor nobility who want their daughter taught magic, but Lord Malfoy, appointed by William the Conqueror to rule English wizards, won’t allow an unattached Muggle-born to study alongside young purebloods at Hogwarts. Merope and the Grangers make common cause and betroth their children, thwarting him for now. But war is coming, and a long, dark path lies ahead.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078427

Nightmare by provocative_envy

A broken time turner shouldn't have sent me back so far. It was unprecedented. Stepping on it--smashing it--nothing should have happened. At most, I should have lost a week. At worst, I should have disappeared altogether. I shouldn't have traveled back fifty-two years; half a bloody century.

This should not have happened.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/805856/chapters/1520166

School Days by meowmers 

They meet on the playground. Ron told her that if she doesn't fight for herself no one will ever leave her alone so she's just trying to follow his advice. "Are you crying?" He asks. She musters all the fury in her 7-year-old body and channels it into her voice when she speaks through the tears. "So what? I'll still kick your arse." Tomione. AU. Rated M for future chapters.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12020392/1/School-Days

unsphere the stars by cocoartist

When you can't change time, but you can't go forward, what is left? Hermione learns how to be the protagonist of her own story. [Tomione] COMPLETE!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7728303/1/unsphere-the-stars

Pygmalion by colubrina

When Tom Riddle walked through a doorway one fall afternoon everything changed and he found himself in a world wholly unprepared for him. "Something about you makes my brain itch," Hermione Granger said. "As if an earthquake had shifted everything sharply two feet to the left and then back again and it didn't all fit back quite right." Tomione. AU. COMPLETE.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11248015/1/Pygmalion

Choosing Grey by betagyre 

Hermione has always been a warrior for the Light. But when an attempt to salvage more than a Pyrrhic victory lands her in 1944, she quickly realizes that sometimes it is best to allow a lesser evil to flourish, because defeating it only creates the conditions for a greater one to rise. With conspiracies, schemes, and difficult choices in every corner, and a charismatic young Tom Riddle who is increasingly interested in her, she will eventually have to answer the question: How much darkness and grey in him can she accept?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121731/chapters/11782721

And the sequel, A Marked Deck by betagyre 

Minister for Magic Tom Riddle has a family and a position of immense political power, and he must adapt to the responsibility that comes with both. But Hermione has much to adjust to as well, married to someone who is still very much a power-hungry Dark wizard. Follows Choosing Grey.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638233/chapters/15186799

If you are looking for fics less than 100k. (After making this list, I realized this wasn’t the best way to break it up. Whoops.) 

Blitz by crochetaway 

Tom Riddle charms everyone, but he hates Hermione Granger because she's a bossy, know-it-all; until she does something impossible and Tom is desperate to know how she did it... because he can do impossible things too. As a Muggle war rages outside of Britains' borders, Tom and Hermione attend Hogwarts and navigate the wizarding world and it's xenophobic politics the best way they know how. When Grindelwald's rise threatens to overshadow them all, what will Tom and Hermione do to survive? And will they change the fabric of the wizarding world while they do it? Complete!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19845391/chapters/46993501

The Experiment by thekarmapolice 

She entered his shop one rainy afternoon.

A Tomione story. AU.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013591/chapters/24540165#workskin

Besotted by Sharkdiver1980

A story in which Lord Voldemort is accidentally given a love potion meant for Bellatrix Lestrange, by none other than his faithful servant, Wormtail. When said love potion is ingested while interrogating a prisoner, all hell breaks loose. HG/LV

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7368442/chapters/16736299

Dark Seduction by crochetaway 

As Tom Riddle is hunting for the diadem in Albania, he stumbles across a strange artifact he's never seen before. Hermione Granger is a lowly Ministry employee on vacation in the mountains of Albania. She's found the perfect cabin for a week of relaxing, hiking and reading. Until a stranger shows up in her living room. Wearing a time-turner. Complete!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949214/chapters/37193711

Linen Rope by Brightki 

Hermione is an upper sixth student at the highly elite Hogwarts School, and she needs extra hours working in the school’s science labs for her pre-admission to Oxford the next year. However, she has to get the approval from the chemistry teacher, Dr. Snape, as well as the support of the man in charge of the science department - Dr. Tom Riddle. *NOW COMPLETE*

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108204/chapters/9257791#workskin

A Big Ball is Wibbly-Wobbly by Colubrina

The war is over, the good guys have won, and Hermione Granger goes to sleep in her lovely flat only to wake up in 1953 in the bed of someone she'd really much rather were dead. "I'm working on the 'kill Lord Voldemort now, work out the temporal paradox issues later' plan," she tells him. He laughs. Tomione. COMPLETE. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11508846/1/A-Big-Ball-of-Wibbly-Wobbly

Anamoran by crochetaway 

Tom Riddle finds a mysterious girl on the steps of Hogwarts. When he finds out she's from the future, he decides he can't live without her. Written for the very first Tomione Fest hosted by Tomione Fanfics on FB!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091940/chapters/29951430

Tempora Abducto by Flaignhan

Inconveniently it's the things that need fixing the most which are often irreparable.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5500156/1/Tempora-Abducto

Just Another Girl Alone at the Bar by elbowless-rubber-duck

“Oh Ron-Ron, you're too funny," a feminine voice says, giggling. Hermione thinks she might vomit. In which Hermione pretends Tom is her boyfriend until he actually is.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11871950/1/Just-Another-Girl-Alone-at-the-Bar

If you’re looking for oneshots, these are my favorites. 

Not Friends, Some Benefits by devdevlin 

She hated the way he never asked for his coffee, instead outstretching a wide palm as he passed her desk in the morning as if getting it for him was her first priority of the day.

She hated the way his overpriced shoes would click obnoxiously against the floors whenever he passed.

She absolutely loathed the way the others in the firm would hang onto his every word, vying for his attention as if he were some sort of celebrity, as if they would better themselves by merely being seen to associate with him.

But what she hated the very most about Tom Riddle, was that he was an unbelievable fuck.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657055

The Summoning by Lovely Villain 

Hermione never meant for this to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt. She was summoning an Angel after all...

She forgot to read the fine print.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843480

Tainted by nekositting 

“I’ve been curious.”

“Oh?” Hermione inquired with a lift of a brow, a spark of adrenaline bolting through her at the heat in his eyes. He was aroused even if she couldn’t tell apart his pupils from the rest of his irises. His cheeks had taken on a flushed hue, and his mouth—

His teeth caught his bottom lip before letting it go.

Hermione’s insides warmed, anticipating what it was he was about to say.

“What is the most sexually deviant thing you’ve ever done?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114545

Shattered Glass by betagyre 

As Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Tom has been up to no good, and Hermione is irritated about it. She decides to try an experiment with him involving a different outlet for power… and he is delighted at the idea.

Occurs during early events of A Marked Deck. Part of the same AU but a separate fic for tag reasons.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7018264

Ringing Satan’s Doorbell by PenelopeGrace 

Instead of designing weapons for humanity, Satan keeps hearing a persistent call from the girl-next-door.

Demons AU + Tomione

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692209

Youth In Retrospect by provocative_envy

She’s buying a box of condoms when she meets him.

“Those are shit, you know,” he says, jerking his chin at the pale purple box in her hand. “Can’t feel anything.”

She stares at him for a moment too long. The bell above the door jingles merrily as a rowdy group of schoolboys enters the store.

“Excuse you,” she replies, cheeks turning pink.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889506

The Graduates by Orphicus [triad + Draco]

Hermione is having a difficult time controlling her raging libido around her two hot roommates/best friends-Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle. But it soon turns out she isn't the only one who wants a good shag. Threesome. DMHGTR. Smut. AU.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11659126/1/The-Graduates

Peeping Tom by Nekositting 

“Tom.”

Hermione blinked through the haze, confusion and something like annoyance replacing it.

What did that even mean?

“My name. It’s best you become familiar with it now because you will be screaming it rather shortly.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733037

Be My Blood by LadyKenz347 

Hermione travels back in time to change the course of history.

An AU for MrsRen's day of birth!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786201

Mr. Riddle by dreamsofdramione

Girls like Hermione Granger don’t belong in places like Felix Felicius. 

Girls like Hermione belong in posh tea houses with their ankles primly crossed and their pinkies extended as they took delicate sips of tasteless teas, feigning interest in whatever society gossip the gaggle of her peers were circulating that day.

Girls like Hermione were raised to be prim and proper, to lay napkins across their lips at their meals, and make polite conversation with strangers even if it bored them to tears. 

Yet, despite her social status as a wellborn English girl, Hermione craved the daring edge of ruffling feathers, of uncrossing those tired ankles and spreading her legs wide in the dim light of clubs well past any semblance of a decent hour.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617293

Philophobia by weestarmeggie 

Or five times it was just sex and the one time it wasn't.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16041974

She Noticed Him In First Year by weestarmeggie

Hermione noticed Tom in first year, not when he started playing quidditch, which is when everyone else seemed to notice him too.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431633

This is my TBR list. Some have been started, some have not, but I’m looking forward to all of them! 

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement by devdevlin

What if Voldemort survived the Battle of Hogwarts? Flight instead of fight? Seven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione is appointed to the team given the task of tracking him down. But when an attractive young man, who Harry is strangely suspicious of, is appointed as her boss, things quickly get out of hand…

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162611

peccatophilia by LovelyVillain 

Hermione has a terrible secret, the past won’t let her go. Neither will her brother. A tale of obsession told in three parts.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881256/chapters/37004997

Madam Umbridge Home for Wayward Girls by LovelyVillain 

Hermione’s life takes a dark turn after the death of her parents, leaving her at the mercy of a tyrannical Matron. Her new home is more prison than sanctuary, haunted by ghosts bearing terrible, bloody secrets. And though she's surrounded by troubled young women, it’s the men in her life who teach her freedom comes at the greatest price of all.

Victorian AU, Tomione, Dramione, no triad

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176684/chapters/35195090

Stepbrother by cherry-cup 

AU. The Grangers adopt a young Tom Riddle, and seal their daughter's fate forever. Set in the 30s-40s.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11185107/1/Stepbrother

Fostering A Nightmare by Ninja Fairy 

A ten-year-old foster child named Tom Riddle showed up on the Granger's front doorstep with his social worker in the summer of 1990. Hermione spent the following years adjusting to life with her new foster brother; so, she never realized how often he kept an eye on her. "I've always watched you, Hermione; and you've always been mine." [Magical AU]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12169509/chapters/27621588#workskin

Two Steps From Hell by ssserpenssotia

The road to hell is often paved with good intentions. LV/HG, Complete

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10946650/1/Two-Steps-From-Hell

Daddy Dearest by ImmortalObsession 

It is 1895 in England. Purebloods are the supremacy. Dumbledore rules them all. Lord Malfoy, one of his many devout followers, has a daughter no one has ever seen. The daughter herself, Hermione Malfoy, never questions the strict rules standing between her and everyone else – that is, until Master Riddle arrives and makes her think twice. AU/OOC/Rated M for dark themes.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9219929/1/Daddy-Dearest

Renatus by frozenbeans

“His name is Professor Riddle, and at least for now, no matter who you ask, nobody knows anything more. Professor Riddle, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher.”

[Golden Trio Era Professor Riddle AU]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655447/chapters/33857754

His Persephone by Reneehart 

Hermione Granger is in a losing war, one causing the world to fall apart at the seams. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, things have only grown more dim, with Voldemort creating even more horcruxes and his army growing larger still. The order has been disbanded and those she loved are either dead or soon to be dead. But even when the world is at its darkest, light will find a way to break free, and she may be the key to turning the war around- long before it took a turn for the worst.

"1943? And you'd like me to...kill Tom Riddle?" Dumbledore shook his head, that annoying twinkle glowing thrice as bright as before. "No, my dear. I'd like you to join him."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286116/chapters/12202283#workskin

Please, Save Me by winterblume

AU Tomione. No time travel no time turners. - 'Are you not scared of him? Tom Riddle has got a rather peculiar reputation. But I'm sure it's all stupid talk. He's Head Boy after all.' - 'What kind of a reputation' - 'Er… he's… well, he seems kinda dark.'

https://archiveofourown.org/works/420241/chapters/700341

[survivor-mesopotamia]

Ep. #1 - “hail santa that is all.” (Chrissa)

Nothing much really so far. We got into tribes so far everyone seems cool ans all so can't wait to see what happens from here.

Opening thoughts: I'm very much downplaying my knowledge, making it seem like I care most about challenges, know nothing about how online Survivor works (I played and hosted one) and not a massive amount about the actual show either, asking a lot of questions. Trying to find people with the most similar personalities and let others propose any alliances.

boy am i overwhelmed

Day 1; So I'm sitting here, eating dinner, a salad with garlic bread and a mike's hard pineapple strawberry lemonade, and I decide to do a confessional! Lets talk about my tribe, first and foremost. We're the "Second Chances" tribe. Fitting, we're all FLOPS. Imma do this in the order we were REVEALED to the world. Because that's cute, right? We're basically the beauty tribe bc everyone is lowkey real scrumptious lookin. Eric; Before this game, Eric and I bonded in the Ahkmim VL about how we never get cast for tumblr survivor, and how we're waiting for redemption, and I'd feel bad leaving him as the first boot. So hopefully he'd also feel bad, and wanna talk to me. I don't think the two of us have much in common yet, he's into anime, and reading, which is like, two things I'm not really down for, but I'm definitely gonna give Spirited Away a try sometime soon so I can talk to him about it. I kinda wanna ask if the red in his hair is naturally like.. blood red. But maybe that's the lighting in the room, or maybe he died it even MORE ginger, because I often hear to him referred to as GINGER Eric, but also i don't wanna have an awkward "No, this is just like.. normal ginger" conversation. Megan; Ohhhh Megan.. my girl Megan. We've had a rocky road in our friendship, and I wish I was just talking about ice cream. Something about her though just makes me have infinite patience for the things the two of us deal with, I can't help but just want to be with her all the time. I scouted her out from FaceBook to play my Whodunnit, and we've been extremely close ever since, our game relationship has been rocky enough for me to worry slightly about her, but all I can do is trust her, and build good enough relationships with other people that if she tried to fuck me over, I would know, and strike first. Its still unclear to this day whether she had a hand in my elimination in a Big Brother game we played, 1984. What is crystal clear, is that we cried together while she cast her vote to evict me. I love her, won't never stop lovin her. I'm hoping this can be OUR season to dominate, because I feel like we're almost evenly matched when it comes to a jury vote. Will; "Whoop-de-do" iconic king of not getting his haircut. Uhh.. idk what all to say, because before the game, I knew nothing of this man. However, Monty said something about him being alive and on Skype, and my mind immediately goes to "Is he hot?" and I check his profile, and publicly announce that he's hot. Which isn't FALSE, but then we both get revealed for the game, and put on the same tribe. So now we're vibing, and relating on the fact that tumblr players hate us, and we've deemed each other, "Heather". He's currently petitioning to call our tribe "The Heathers" instead of Enlil. We get on really well, and he's pretty damn cute. Also, he goes to bed SO early, I hope we get enough time to talk and get close on this tribe. Julian; Well. This is a lot to unpack, but I found out he was playing about 3 days before the game, and since that point. He's gotten unnecessarily aggressive with me, and a couple others over non-tumblr related matters. Julian and I have a rocky history, between me being recruited, and auto-casted for his ORG, Trinity Survivor, his ex-co-host/current-best friend berating me, and deleting messages to make me look bad. To Julian throwing passive aggressive low-blows about my social ineptitude in my face if I'm angry about something, to us making final 3 together in minis. Overall, I'm constantly at odds about how I perceive our relationship, I want to be able to assume the best of him, and say that I'm good in his book, no matter what happens. I think a lot of the time, our friend group isn't the most mature, and it is really difficult to have an adult conversation with someone from within that friend group, without someone else having an opinion to share on it, so I've heard things that he's said about me, that I'm not necessarily sure if its true or not, but I try my best to hold a strong, level head and smile whenever I see him, but sometimes its difficult wanting to approach a conversation with someone head on, but knowing that you can't do that with him is definitely a struggle of mine. We have very different communication styles, and its difficult to see past it sometimes. For now, I'm going to be working with him, but I'm not sure how long that can last, as he admits it himself, he can only handle my personality for short periods of time. Jack; Well, Jack hasn't said a single word for the last three hours, since the game has begun. I don't WANT to have to stay up till 5-6 in the morning to try to have a conversation with him, but if that's what I gotta do, then that's what I gotta do. Chrissa; Chrissa, Todd. My LOVE. Chrissa is someone that I owe something to, she's amazing, beautiful, talented, show stopping, never before seen, etc. Our game relationship is not great, because I organized her first boot in Ascendance Season 4; Back to the Future. However, it was because she was attached to someone that kept accusing me of having powers behind my back. So, hopefully Chrissa forgives me, and gives me another chance, because I'd love to work with her. I feel like Chrissa is someone who is extremely intelligent, and loyal, and that's someone I want on my side. I love my tribe, lets win every challenge until the merge!!

Well... I’m back again... not going inactive this time! Let’s just do a quick roundup for now: JJ seems to think we’re in a showmance already which is either great or bad for my game, Megan’s a sweetheart and I could see us aligning, Eric is definitely a gamer and I have a feeling he’ll be a loyal, jack and Julian are both pretty straightforward and seem on the quieter side, and Chrissa straight up vanished already so we’ll see how that goes! Basically somebody thinks I’m their husband but I don’t know if I ever signed the prenup, but if it means JJ is gonna spill on how he feels about everyone then that’s some good insight. Nobody really wants to talk game yet but that’ll change soon!! Kk bye for now

Night 1/Morning 2: Everyone on my tribe seems extremely cool and I'm loving the way the tribes are divided. The only name I recognized on the cast was Monty's and he's on my tribe! I don't know him personally but I think he first played around when I was hosting a season. I have hit it off with Johnny the best so far I think, and definitely Isabelle as well. I seem to have a lot in common with both of them on a personal level. Strategically, I haven't locked anything down yet. I don't want to come right out and blurt "ALLIANCE?" with anyone; for right now I'm just trying to play it cool, get to know people as well as I can, and be a likeable presence in the tribe so people just wanna have me around.

I just asked Collin to talk to Adam about forming a four person alliance, which Collin will "bring" me into while Adam suggests someone. This might secure me in a four person alliance which would be ideal, but if it backfires, it will backfire on Collin, not on me. I'm trying to get myself into a majority while insulating myself from being seen as the strategic threat

First confessional before first IC

I was thrust on a good tribe we have JJ and Eric and hopefully this group of people won't make us last in competitions atleast lol maybe if we lose though hopefully i can argue why jack needs to go with his timezone but hopefully i don't have too. 

im ngl idk why i decided to play tumblr survivor again and the instant paranoia of just caring about my PLACEMENT is going to keep me up at night *shivers*

It's been a day in and so far I really like our tribe! I'm vibing with a few of them and it looks like there's been alliance formed between myself, Julian and JJ. JJ has said that he owes it to Chrissa not to vote her out if we lose, and I think he has something with Megan on the side based off what Julian has told me. That leaves Will and Jack, and I've talked with Will a ton. Tomorrow I'm gonna try and see if he wants to work with me too because I feel like to win this season, you will need to keep all your options open. 

Day 2: I got to talk to Jack last night, he was talkin about how he did some funky fresh survivor statistics on how tribe swaps affect tribe line loyalties, which I found super interesting. Then I decided to share a statistics thingy I did on how the Final 3 format doesn't produce an even ratio of male / female winners, but the Final 2 format does, and how potentially something about the final 3 format in survivor could be a factor in why we haven't had enough female winners in the last few generations of survivor. But he didn't even believe there was a female bias in survivor.. which kinda threw me off. Oh well, we ended the conversation on a good note before I went to bed. Well, the tribe seems to be getting along well, I tried to get a tribe call going, but it ended up just being me and Megan helping Chrissa with strategies to get higher scores in the challenge. She can't seem to break 100, and I feel really bad for her, I hope the rest of us can carry this competition, because I would feel like the worst human being in the world if I gave someone first boot twice in a row. Not to mention I'd consider Chrissa a friend of mine. Maybe I'm playing this game a bit too emotionally, before we even have our first tribal. What a concept.. Will and I are only getting closer and closer, we continuously refer to each other, affectionately, as "Heather". But he really lied to me today, pretty hard core. He said he was gonna order his weight in mexican food when he got off work... but he ate Thai instead...? How dare he ??? Rude. Anyways, if he's lying about that, what else could he lie to me about? Smh. Fuckboys amirite? I think that if we lose this challenge, Jack would be an easy vote off. He's in a different timezone, and his age unfortunately would make it really difficult to have a decent social game. If we lose more than once, there's one of two things that could happen.. 1.) There's a standoff between Julian, Megan and I, trying to maneuver this tribe to remove each other. Which is exactly why a friendship / showmance / whatever with Will is so important. Will would likely be the swing vote they try to get, I don't see Chrissa voting me out if I prove my loyalty at the first tribal our tribe faces. 2.) The three of us dominate the premerge portion of the game, and it becomes an impossible to maneuver situation for me at the merge, because all the connections I have outside of my own tribe, both Julian or Megan also have a hand in, with the exception of Jay, who I don't find myself falling that closely to. I feel like I might be thinking too much, too fast. I guess I just can't show the rest of my tribe that. I'm hoping my reads on the tribe are at least somewhat correct this time around. :/

Collin never ended up messaging Adam, and I was worried about falling behind the 8-ball, so I took alliance building measures into my own hands. I messaged Zach about joining up by stating that Collin had told me he also had a good conversation with Zach, and I made sure Zach didn't just feel "brought in" by asking him which person he would want to be 4 in our alliance. He suggested Cameron, which is fine by me. He hasn't officially reached out to Cameron yet, but our plan is to bring Cameron in if we end up losing, and I will probably want to vote Kyle or Grace in that scenario. Hope we don't lose though!

I don't really (or at least usually) stress about challenges and definitely not this early in the game, but some of these people are so stressed and panicky. Will (who I talked to about aligning earlier today like I had said I would in my last confessional) is stressed about not being able to beat his current high score of 199 and feels like he's on the lower end and might be eliminated. I was telling him though that this isn't necessarily about your score, but your ranking. You can get 209 or 189 and still get the same ranking. Chrissa on the other hand is totally panicking. She has an admittedly low score of 89 which she forgot to screenshot which is really rough. She same flash games aren't her thing (and I believe her) but when I tried to calm her down and say there's lots of time to improve and that we can win this, she continued to panic. There's not much I can do for her. I'm not aligned with her right now and she's just really scared to get first boot, which I don't even think will happen. JJ feels obliged not to make her first boot should the scenario present itself, and I'm aligned with him and Julian. If anyone's going home right now, it's probably Jack unless he has connections I am unaware of. I would really like to win though because I love our beauty tribe xoxo 

I managed to find the idol clue, and in telling my formed trio of Collin and Zach, Zach accidentally revealed that he had found it too. I don't think he intended to tell me, so now I am not sure if I fully trust him. I'll work with him for now, but he is going to be a big move player and I'll have to watch out for that

Forgive me father for i have sinned it's been a day since my last confession I've made some progress me and grace knowing each other well pregame means i have an instant ally coming in to help not be first.....or second out and me and Collin seem to be kinda working together I guess?? I hope not fully sure but I feel confident I'm not going if we go to tribal.

hiiii so glad to be back in the game!!!! So thankful I have the opportunity to redeem myself after my huge flop in 94, but lowkey worried about being on the An tribe? Only because it is filled with people who have done well in the past I’m not sure how to measure where I fall within them, but everyone has been very nice and seems to get along with me so far! Also it seems like there is no suspicion from them about Zach and I being siblings which is STELLAR. From looking at the cast I think the only person who knows for sure is JJ, and perhaps Megan? But thankfully they aren’t on a tribe with either of us so that might work in our favor. I’m a little nervous about this first challenge but I have one of the highest scores on my tribe atm, so I feel like if we go to tribal it might be okay. Fingers crossed hehe ;))

FUCK entanglement! FUCK IT IT IS THE WORK OF THE DEVIL hail santa that is all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBoZlL8ZWzY

Zach is playing super hard out in the open. That is good for me, he can make connections to help our alliance, and if there is ever a moment where our alliance gets exposed, he will probably be out in the forefront as a target. The flip side of that is that I might not be able to go to the end with him if he could be perceived as the leader of my alliance, so I'll need to see how the game develops

We came in second in the immunity challenge by ONE POINT. Thank the lord because our group seems very cohesive at the moment, and going to tribal would have put everyone into scramble mode. I've been bonding the closest over the first 4 days with Isabelle, and I am hoping it can lead to a strong game relationship. Right now, we seem to be very social with one another and we have gone as far as to say we wouldn't vote for one another, but I'm still sort of waiting for that defining confirmation (as much as you can get that in Survivor). After that, I'd say I've been pretty chatty with Johnny and Monty equally (but I think I have a slightly tighter personal bond so far with Johnny). Abrielle I talked to more so over the first couple of days but I would say between her, Jay and Madison those are the ones I've made the least connection with. They all seem like good people, just haven't had as much traction chatting with them. I don't want us to go to tribal for as long as we can help it, because for me the best case scenario heading into a swap would be if our tribe had the numbers advantage and some sort of tribe-wide unity going into it. I feel like that way I could be in a good spot but also not in the forefront of the tribe alliance (I'd hope that would sort of fall on Monty or Johnny maybe because of their Tumblr Survivor experience). For now though, just continuing to get to know everyone as best I can and try and make sure people want me around, and have me in their plans moving forward.

https://youtu.be/2ix-llpzUOQ

----

https://youtu.be/bwCjV8my_Zc ok my mom walked in so i didn't get to finish my thought, but i guess the full thought is just: what the fuck? like i'm really gonna be watching this vid on repeat while y'all are just trolling us. this will end up in my nightmares. know that. also my paranoia is once again setting in. as i mentioned in previous confessional, i feel like ben and i have bonded the most, and we've both pointed it out to each other, but now i feel like he's pointing it out... almost too much? he's basically comparing our convos to his with the rest of the tribe and that they're much better (which i lowkey agree), but something feels fishy because again IM PARANOID. AM I BEING PLAYED?? like literally the scenario in my mind is that everyone's aligned except me and ben has been chosen as the bug to make me feel comfortable. okay yes im crazy. and it's only day 2 whew! im going to bed goodnight.

---

ok now ive found a video about spectograms the channel has liked. this hunt is getting me anxious bc slowly but surely the amount of views on the immunity idol vid is increasing. AHHHH

---

ok i found the spectogram and it literally spells out "SINK." (also this shit is scary so again, my nightmare comment holds.) so there are 5 other followers, which makes me know for sure that at least 5 other ppl have found this vid. also i have no idea what to do with the word. i assume that it'll come in handy eventually (maybe a password? send in a chat? comment on the vid? something?) and i really really hope im the only person to find this. i know that's unlikely tho.

---

oh my god. oh my fucking god. the clue is at survivor-mesopotamia.tumblr.com/sink . im screaming. proud of myself. BUT of course it says... "clue Though you have found it, No clue has emerged. UNDER CONSTRUCTION, Come back when you’ve merged." i- i have to wait until i've merged. HA. we'll see if bitches get that far. and im bitches. anyways sorry for the spam, now back to your regularly scheduled programming

Day 3: I almost forgot to do this confessional. But here I am, in bed, watching Avatar, and drinking butterscotch milk with Irish cream, which is surprisingly good? Anyways, here we go! First, you’re telling me that we LOST the challenge.. what the hell :( I thought I did so well having 188, but apparently even 256 wasn’t going to cut it. The fact that if Jack could improve his score by 30 points, means we’d be safe from tribal, it annoys me that it felt like he didn’t try as hard as Chrissa in the flash game? Julian, he says we can beast through this game and make final three. This is something I’d really love to be able to trust that he has in mind, but I just am unsure at this moment. He gave me information towards the idol search that I appreciate, and probably wouldn’t have figured it out myself. That felt good, but I feel like he wasn’t giving me everything he knew, just enough to make me feel comfortable. I’ll have to continue to keep my eye on him.. Next, Heather, or Will, my potential showmance. We’ve finally got the opportunity to call each other, we talked about the idol search, and our potential moves in the future. He told me he likes the idea of not playing with Julian, but right after he told me this, Julian asked if we were good? Which was kinda sketch. But I’ll do my best to trust Will, and call it a weird coincidence. Megan hasn’t talked to me much today, but she was a room moderator for sequester, and was visiting a friend today, so I can’t blame her. Chrissa is hopefully safe, I can’t give her first boot in back to back games together, I refuse to be that heartless. She’s so good I can’t do it. Eric hasn’t talked to me much either. For someone who should probably know that his name is on the block, I’m surprised Jack isn’t talking too much to me? Maybe it’s because I’m on the chopping block and I don’t know it. I’d be really heartbroken if I were the first boot.

So we lost the challenge by ONE FREAKING POINT, which sucks ass. But not me doing the best in my tribe on the challenge. We stan improvement. Anyway, it looks like the discussion for the vote is between Jack and Chrissa, namely Jack. Though Chrissa performed worse in the challenge, she's done a better job connecting with the rest of us than Jack has. As of now, that's what the general concensus is. I talked to Julian and he agreed, and we are aligned with JJ. Chrissa would vote our way to make sure it isn't her. Another thing that's happening is the idol search. The video made literally no freaking sense, but when the channel liked this video about spectograms, Julian put the video into it and it spelled sink. It turned out that by putting the word sink into the blog link, it says a clue will be there but at the merge. I guess this means for now there will be no idols, so as long as the people im with are truthful, the person who is planned to go home at tribal will go home without a shadow of a doubt.

https://youtu.be/ury1fLaZQec

Right now everyone on the tribe is at peace and getting along, but we all know that’s gonna change when we go to tribal council.

I'm sad we lost the first challenge. I came back to do better than i did the first time, so the idea of being the first boot would suck. I'm not that close with Chrissa so 100% she's my vote. She has played more seasons than all of us & the second chancers deserve their time. Also, Chrissa did the worst out of us in the challenge so it makes it easier to convince everyone to vote for her, but i also dont want to be the one who targets her first because that could come back round to me, and i would hate that as i've waited over a year for a 2nd shot at this. At the moment i'm closest with JJ & Will F, they are 100% my final 3 right now. I like Megan & Eric as well. I've only had 1 comversation with Julian and we did get on well but we havent talked about anything since then. I've tried to talk to Chrissa but she's never really tried to talk to me.

Hi!! Megan for my first confessional!! Yall are gonna have to remind me throughout my time in this game to do these because I'm SO bad at remembering to do confessionals lmaooo. So this first round there's been a lot going on. There are three tribes- newbies, flops, and a tribe of vets who have played well. Clearly I am on the flop tribe, because I was a SAD pre-merge boot in Svalbard. I was feeling really excited about my tribe and definitely thought we could do well and at least not lose the first challenge - we don't want to be flops again!! But alas, after a long day of doing that stupid entanglement flash game, we have proven our labels and FLOPPED yet again, getting last. SO. now we have to go to tribal council tonight. I am out of town this weekend so I haven't been able to talk to many people but I hope I can make it through this first vote. All I've heard so far is that people want to keep the tribe strong so we don't lose another challenge, and based on the first challenge scores, the two bottom challenge players would be Chrissa and Jack. So far I have heard that people want to do Jack instead of Chrissa, which I am fine with. I haven't talked to him that much and I think the time zone difference unfortunately puts him at a disadvantage, so honestly, we should probably vote him out first. I am nervous of course though because people have been fairly quiet and that's never a good thing, but I am hoping and praying that nothing crazy happens and Jack is the first boot and all is good and fine with that. Okay now I'll talk a little about the players on the tribe and how I feel about them- Okay so obviously I know JJ and Julian fairly well from previous games & also being in various group chats together. So far we are planning on working together as a trio and I am GOOD with that so far. Chrissa I have played with once before but she's not very social or talkative, and tbh, I haven't had a DM with her in this game yet, but she seems sweet. Eric I like a lot, he is funny and outgoing and a little chaotic and I love that in him. I think I know him from something previously but quite honestly I don't remember him, but he remembers me LOL. I hope they're good memories. Jack, again, I haven't talked to him much because of the time difference I think. Also isn't he like a minor? Oof that's weird. Anyway onto the final member of my tribe - the king, the legend, the literal love of my life - WILL!!!! I had never met Will before this game but we vibed IMMEDIATELY. We get along so well and we have a lot of things in common and we like the same kinda things. We've had a lot of really good conversations already and I feel the closest to him in this game by far, even though I have known other people on my tribe longer. I adore Will and I will do everything in my power to make sure we both get as far in this game as we can. Okay I think that's enough for a first confessional, bye!!!

Things have been pleasant and slow so far. Everyone on the tribe seems nice and at this point I’m still just hoping that we’ll all get as far in the game as possible at the expense of the more experienced players. I’m a little concerned because I haven’t really been party to any strategy talk yet; I think that’s just because no one has thought it necessary while we don’t have to go to tribal, but I’m still worried I might just be on the outs and not know it.

hiiii so glad to be back in the game!!!! So thankful I have the opportunity to redeem myself after my huge flop in 94, but lowkey worried about being on the An tribe? Only because it is filled with people who have done well in the past I’m not sure how to measure where I fall within them, but everyone has been very nice and seems to get along with me so far! Also it seems like there is no suspicion from them about Zach and I being siblings which is STELLAR. From looking at the cast I think the only person who knows for sure is JJ, and perhaps Megan? But thankfully they aren’t on a tribe with either of us so that might work in our favor. I’m a little nervous about this first challenge but I have one of the highest scores on my tribe atm, so I feel like if we go to tribal it might be okay. Fingers crossed hehe ;))

I’m SCARED I’ve been out of the loop for TOO LONG. 

from what I've heard i am safe i won't be comfortable until i heard the votes not being all me. 

https://youtu.be/oX4-_QPoqNk

https://youtu.be/YviOufmjmps

My brand is having 4 minute confessionals

from episode 1 https://youtu.be/VqDkCGLTARU

---

from episode 1 also https://youtu.be/mklfEHtGp04

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9UqNr3fbiE

Jack voted out 6-1

[sad-panda-dib-blog]

Just gonna drop this here and run. ;;; v ;;;

Okay, so like, some of you guys have been asking for me to upload some of my works here, so here I go at last. Please don't hurt me. ; v ;

My name is Pat and I'm one of the original authors for that god-awful ZADR fanfic, "ZADR Orange." It's likely one of the cringiest fanfics I've ever written in my life, but like, also the thing that has been feeding my soul for the past 10 years of working on it. The beginning is rushed and terrible, the characters are OOC, and my writing from back then is just...blah. HOWEVER it's become something I can't let go of and so I continue to plague the fandom with its continued existence even after all these years of posting. Some people have come to love it, others hate it to its core, but for me, it's that thing that has given my life purpose (as stupid as that may sound). It's pushed me to make improvements in my writing, even if you can't necessarily see those improvements in the earliest chapters of the work (and by earliest chapters, I mean like the first 150 of them. Yep, that's how long it took me to not suck as much as I did back then). To this day, I continue to upload new content and VERY SLOWLY make revisions to its beginning. Perhaps someday it will be a halfway decent work of fiction in the fandom and not a target for criticism as mentioned in this hate Wiki:  https://toxicfandomsandhatedoms.miraheze.org/wiki/Invader_Zim_Fandom (which I really can't argue with. XD It is pretty cringe-worthy).

There are like a million other fics posted in this fandom that far surpass anything that I could ever hope to write, but still, I strive to improve my works constantly. I know I've gotten a lot of love and support from some fans over the years, but my inner critic is always there to remind me that if I hadn't been the one to write it myself, I likely would have passed it up as a reader simply for its rushed formatting, dialogue, and word flow. Also for the copious amounts of pointless filler word vomit I tend to get into because I think it's interesting at the time only to realize later that I was simply rambling. But ah well. That's just how it goes sometimes, especially when writing an RP (Oh, did I mention that this story was originally a role play with another person? Yeah, there's that too. Since I was the one writing our parts into narrative though, I feel solely responsible for butchering what could have been a decent story if I just hadn't rushed the beginning bits so much). Umm...But yeah, anyways, moving on.

As I mentioned above, this story has also been accused of portraying the characters as WAY OOC from the show. Once again, my fault because I have a tendency towards writing Dib as a whiny little overemotional bitch most of the time. Sorry about that. ; v ; It's a preference in most of my writing with him though. To me personally, what makes ZADR so appealing in the long run, is exploring the emotional torment of somebody who has been called crazy all his life. Dib is just the saddest little stubborn panda bear in all of my writing and I heavily prefer works in which he is the submissive to Zim. Like, Zim is adorable in his own right, but I can't imagine him simply surrendering his dominance to Dib, regardless of how much taller Dib might ever grow. Plus, in my head, Dib will always be that hopeless virgin type of character (even if Zim IS fucking his brains out half the time in my works). Zim's not as clueless as he may seem sometimes either. Like, he's lived a whole other life long before he came to Earth. I imagine he's seen some things and experienced more in his life than Dib has, even if one of the main consensus is that Irken's mature more slowly than humans. Irken society is very different from human society in my mind so I imagine some things are more normal for Irkens than other things (but I won't get into that here. That's a post for a different point in time.)

Whoo boy, this is getting long, and I haven't even posted a link to the actual story yet. ; v ; I guess what I'm trying to say though is that I have a very personal way of viewing and portraying the characters in my work. Perhaps that's why it gets both positive and negative feedback from people. I don't expect everybody to agree with or even like my work, but I simply ask that it not be crushed into the ground for its flaws. Above all else, I write my stories for fun and to see my own improvement. And yes, I know it may seem weird that I'm so paranoid about advertising a work that's been present in this fandom for YEARS now (especially as it used to be advertised quite a lot back when I was still writing it with my co-writer), but let's just say this fandom has left me with some pretty nasty battle scars in the past. I know the haters will always exist and they're better off ignored, but I've had to see close friends come and go from this fandom as a result of that hate. I don't understand the fixation some people have with drama in this fandom. Yes, you're entitled to an opinion, but please don't shove it in other people's faces. It's like some people enjoy intentionally being assholes online and trying to ruin other people's fun. I've tried to distance myself from that sort of hatred because I don't need that sort of stress in my life any longer. But in doing so, it DOES make it harder to interact with the nicer fans out there/continue posting my works, regardless of how long I've been in the fandom. Also, I was kind of an attack dog back in the day when it came to defending some of my friends, which kind of put me in a bad light to some people in the fandom for a while. Whoops. My bad. As much as I hated that sort of drama, I was always the first to jump in and make an ass of myself when it came to defending my friend. Hahaha. <XD

Gah! I'm stalling now. Here's my shit for those of you who were asking: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5995185/1/ZADR-Orange

(This links to the PG-13 version uploaded on Fanfiction.net. An adult version is also available for 18 + viewers over on DeviantART).

https://www.deviantart.com/dib-the-hybrid/art/ZADR-Orange-Chapter-001-277634496

And for those of you who weren't asking for it, sorry to spam the ZADR tag with my bullshit. ; v ;

Oh, and while I'm at it, since this Tumblr account IS a joint account with another one of my co-writers, Sass (Sassafrass002 over DeviantART. Go check her out! Her art is amazing and she deserves all the love in the world for it. <3  https://www.deviantart.com/sassafrass002), here's another set of links to yet another ZADR roleplay we've been writing together for years now (almost as long as ZO, actually). :> We just recently posted chapter 100 of our story and have so much more to add onto it. Once again though, we do lean towards a softer side of ZADR so it'll likely be OOC to many. I feel this work to be at least a little less cringe worthy though. :> Plus she does amazing preview images to go along with the chapters.

(PG-13 FanFiction.net Version: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7311546/1/Dib-Is-Sick )

(18+ DeviantArt Version: https://www.deviantart.com/sassafrass002/art/Dib-is-Sick-Chapter-1-254253924 )

I might advertise some other stories of mine at a later point in time, but for right now, these two are the ones that I've invested the most time into. They've kept my mind occupied with ideas for them for years, and I doubt I'll ever be able to move on from them until they're actually complete. (Technically DIS IS complete. Just not all posted yet. But we have a sequel in the works currently that I hope we eventually get to posting also! :>)

Enjoy! :> ...Or not. ; v ; I think I'm going to run away and hide now.

[terriblelifechoices]

A few people have mentioned wanting to see the conversation Hunter has with Graves in eight years, re: raising precocious little hellions.  So, @st00pz​, @female-overlord-3​, Kkmonkey, LostGryphin, and jennipea, this one’s for you.

The original timestamp that this references can be found on tumblr here or on AO3 here.

December, 1938

Graves hated MACUSA’s annual employee evaluations.  He hated writing them, he hated reviewing them, he hated the whole damn process.  His employees were damn good at what they did and he knew it -- more than that, he made sure that everyone else knew it, too.  Why was that not good enough?

Worse yet, as Head of MLE, it was his job to remind everyone else to turn the fucking things in.

Graves stared at the small mountain of paperwork on his desk and cursed MACUSA’s bureaucracy.

Someone knocked on the door to his office.

“Did I come at a bad time?” Silas Hunter inquired.

Graves blinked.  Hunter was rarely in the Woolworth Building these days; his tenure as president had ended in 1936.  He served at President Shellstrop’s pleasure, these days.  The last Graves had heard of him, Hunter had decided to take up beekeeping, of all the damn things.

“No, sir,” he said.  “Please, come in.”

Hunter smiled.  The expression -- and the lack of stress -- took years off of his face.  “Thank you,” he said.  He held up the bottle in his left hand.  “I brought refreshments.”

Graves raised his eyebrows.  “Twenty year old Roanoke,” he said.  “What’s the occasion?”

Hunter settled himself in one of the chairs across from Graves’ desk.  “What are you -- Ah.  Employee evaluations?”

Graves suppressed a snarl.  “Employee evaluations,” he agreed grimly.

“I always hated those.”

“I still do.”

“You can’t deny they’re useful, though,” Hunter said, heading for Graves’ liquor cabinet and producing two glasses.  “They let our employees know that we recognize their strengths and their weaknesses, and format plans for improvement.  They also help justify your department budget.”

“I’m filling out the fucking forms, Silas.  You don’t need to sell me on them.”

“Is that any way to speak to the former president?”

“I’m filling out the fucking forms, Mr. President,” Graves amended.

Hunter smirked at him.  He set both glasses down on Graves’ desk and generously filled both of them.

“You never said what the occasion was,” Graves said, when Hunter passed him a glass.

“I did,” Hunter told him.  “Eight years ago.”

Graves frowned.  What the hell was Hunter getting at?

“You and Seraphina were being -- well.  You and Seraphina.  And I told you I was just glad that one of you was finally having children, so you could experience first hand what trying to mind precocious little shits was like,” Hunter prompted.

Graves vaguely remembered that conversation.  It had something to do with that dust up between his team and FBCVNMO.

“Wait,” he said.  “Are you gloating?”  He looked at the glass in his hand.  “Is this smug bastard whiskey?”

“It’s expensive whiskey, now drink it and fess up.”  Hunter grinned at him.  “How has Galahad’s first year at Ilvermorny gone?  And do keep in mind that Evan Jauncey and I are old friends.”

Graves looked at his whiskey in betrayal.  Smug bastard whiskey would have been bad enough, but this was the whiskey of betrayal.

“Oh, what the hell,” he said.  He was going to need alcohol to get through the evaluations anyway, and Hunter’s bottle was a finer pour than the one in his liquor cabinet.  “If you’re old friends with Evan Jauncey, you already know how Galahad’s first year at Ilvermorny is going.”

“We haven’t discussed it,” Hunter said primly.  “I just wanted you to know I have resources if you lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t lie,” Graves said.

“Graves.”

“Oh, fine,” said Graves.  “I probably would have.”

It wasn’t that Galahad wasn’t doing well at Ilvermorny, because he was.  His grades were fantastic.  It was just that Galahad had a bit of an anti-authoritarian streak if he didn’t think the authoritarian involved deserved his respect.

Graves pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I think he’s taken over the dueling club.  Actually, no, I think he wants to takeover the dueling club, he just hasn’t figured out how to do it yet.”

Hunter made a noise of exasperated amusement.  “He’s eleven.  How much can he possibly know about dueling?”

“He’s a Graves.  He knows plenty.”

Hunter sipped from his glass and waited.

“He’s been teaching the other students behind Professor Branagh’s back,” Graves sighed.  “He’s smart enough not to humiliate his opponents, so they’re listening to him.  The other parents have expressed some … concerns.”  Concerns sounded better than complaints.  He was just lucky Credence found most of them amusing, or he’d be sleeping on the couch for the rest of his very short life.

Hunter took another drink.  Then he giggled.

Graves eyed him suspiciously.  “Did you put gigglewater in this?”  He hadn’t seen Hunter add gigglewater to it -- that would have been a terrible thing to do to good whiskey -- and he’d heard the seal on the bottle break.

Hunter set his glass down on Graves’ desk and whooped with laughter.  “You raised a mini version of you!” he said.

“This is not my fault!” Graves protested.

“You raised a miniature version of yourself,” Hunter said, still laughing.

“Galahad has two parents.  This is not entirely on me!”

“Graves,” Hunter said seriously.  “Don’t try and blame your poor sweet husband for your sins.  This is absolutely on you.”

Discretion was the better part of valor.  Graves sipped his drink and said nothing.

“Fuckdamn, that’s the good stuff,” he said, impressed.

“It’s twenty year old Roanoke.  It had better be the good stuff.”

“True,” Graves agreed, feeling a bit more at peace with the universe.

“Taking over the dueling club is pretty mild,” Hunter said eventually.  “Compared to some of your antics.  And Seraphina’s.”

Graves gave him a withering look.  “We weren’t that bad.”

“Yes you were!  You have no idea how grateful I was that I only had to put up with you two for one year.  Tituba’s Bones, you’d have driven me to drink.  You did drive me to drink.”

“Really?”

“Just the once,” Hunter admitted.  “And Harmony Carson got drunk with me.  That was fun.”

Harmony Carson had been head prefect for Wampus when Graves had been a first year.  Her younger sister Melody had once cast an Emperor’s New Clothes charm on Graves after dueling practice, resulting in public nudity and some admittedly poorly thought out decisions on Graves’ part.

Graves would have regretted nothing, except Seraphina delighted in telling Credence scandalous stories from their Ilvermorny days, and Credence was still, to this day, under the impression that Graves was some sort of nude exhibitionist.

“You, I understand,” Graves said.  “You’re a Horned Serpent, and you lot are all a bit high strung.”

“Hey!”

“But what the hell did we do that drove Harmony to drink?” he wondered.  Harmony Carson had always struck him as being a model Wampus, and Wampuses were made of sterner stuff than that.

“It was after the thing with the statues,” Hunter said.

“Oh,” said Graves.  “That.”

“Yes,” said Hunter.  “That.”

Graves tried to remember if anyone had told Credence that story.  Or worse -- if they’d told Credence that story while any of the children could hear them.  Galahad probably wouldn’t try activating the security statues, but Gawain -- who had a knack for spellwork and cursebreaking -- would likely see it as a challenge.

“What?” Hunter asked.

“I was just thinking that I hope no one ever tells that story where the children can hear them,” Graves said.  “Because Gawain would take it as a challenge.”

Hunter started laughing again.  “This is your comeuppance, you know,” he said.  “Having children that are just like you.”

Graves vanished the chair from beneath him, which did very little to stifle Hunter’s laughter.  “Shut up, Mr. President,” he said.

[faejilly]

Ella & Joker / Shadowhunters AU, Cinders AU

Oh, everything is Shadowhunters right now darling, you know that [au otp meme here] (Also this kinda turned into fic instead of not!fic? Kinda? Whoops. Sorry not sorry.) edit: WTF tumblr, you ate a chunk of my post/formatting! ANYWAYS! This would have a terribly terribly cheesy title like, idk, where angels fear to tread or something because I am a horrible dork.

But wouldn’t Ella be such a good Shadowhunter? Rules and regulation and duty, family honor and way too much black leather… she’s home. She’s home where there are clear expectations, and if everyone follows the rules than everyone’s safe, and if they’re not safe she will make them safe, because they’re the good guys they fight demons of course they’re heroes.

(It’s okay to like fighting when it’s demons, it’s okay to like killing when it’s demons, it’s okay if the only time you feel alive is when the adamas flares and there’s the taste of sulphur in the back of your throat and ichor burns right before you wash it off your skin, it’s okay, it’s okay, she’s okay, she’s a fucking Shadowhunter everything is fine.)

Downworlders hiss and snarl at her when she smiles, but if they didn’t do anything wrong there would be nothing to be afraid of, just follow the rules, if you follow the rules you’re safe, I’ll keep you safe, so of course she knows that the Downworlders are always up to something. 

Demon blood will out. 

Everyone knows that.

Until the day she catches an injured shax demon trying to grab a child, and the child is so brave, brave as a Shadowhunter, snarling as she ducks away and Ella grins as she steps up to slide her blade between its scales and she turns to the girl, to congratulate, to check if she’s injured, to help, and the girl’s tail lashes and she flinches back and she’s afraid, so much more afraid of Ella than she was of being killed by a demon, of being dragged away by a shax to get eggs laid inside her. It’s a horrible death, and she could face it with teeth bared and eyes wide open; a Shadowhunter saving her life is too much to face.

Ella’s blade slips from her hand and she feels like that one clean slice between the shax’s scales had been between her own ribs, and it burns, and she can’t, she can’t, she makes herself step back, once, twice, and the girl darts away too quickly to be followed.

She stands there for ages, it feels like hours, days, before she can make herself pick her blade back up again. She doesn’t know what to do next.

She can’t go back to the Institute, not back to where everyone thinks the same way she did; was it only half an hour ago?

So she finds a bar. The bar. The Hunter’s Moon. 

This is a terrible coping mechanism self, Shadowhunters do not go get wasted in Downworlder bars.

But she can’t very well go to a mundane bar, not tonight, not when she’s this on edge, not when she can feel the edges of her runes against her skin, not when she keeps having to count her breath to stop herself from gripping the hilt of her seraph blade. 

She’d probably stab some poor slob for trying to flirt with her.

And Shadowhunters would never admit that they need to relax; no bars on Institute grounds. No wonder so many of her people end up fucking Seelies to feel better. Aren’t a lot of other options they’re allowed, are there? For the first time she wonders what the Seelies think of Shadowhunters and that particular… proclivity.

But she doesn’t want to feel better.

She kinda doesn’t want to feel anything at all.

Thus, booze.

But she walks in and almost turns around in the doorway because Joker’s there. Everyone knows Joker. Nephilim born, but even with layers of runes his body’s too fragile to train, to fight, too human to be a Shadowhunter, too deep into the Downworld to be mundane. 

But he’s at The Hunter’s Moon a lot, isn’t he? He spends more time with the werewolves and warlocks and vampires than his own kind, and she used to think that with a sneer on her face, but now she feels a glimmer of hope, a hint of her faith returning, because if he can do it? If the Downworld doesn’t hate him despite his blood, maybe, maybe? She doesn’t even know what she’s hoping for, but she walks up to him anyways, asks if the stool beside him is free. He makes such a face at her, lifted brows and a tight twist to his mouth, but when she doesn’t say anything else, no insults, no laugh, he tilts his head, and his expression eases, and he shrugs. And she still has no fucking clue what she’s doing but thank the fucking Angel and she sighs as she sits, and she lets her head fall, forehead landing on arms crossed on the bar and her breath clouding the fake wood in front of her face, and she just listens, listens to werewolf jokes and Seelie songs and the click of the balls at the pool table and relaxes to the distinctive shiver of warlock magic in the air.

[oldmyths]

hiya drew, what are a couple bands/songs you'd recommend for someone interested in getting into classic rock? I hope you're having a great day

hey anon! this is an extremely loaded question! sdfjdfkgjd (and i’m really flattered you’re askin me, because, omg, it’s an honor)

(under a read more bc i talk too god damn much)

okay. lemme preface this by saying i barely scratch the surface when it comes to classic rock. in fact i just like the “popular” classic rock bands, because i’m a hipster loser (and i grew up on some of this stuff and don’t really have much of an interest venturing further but hey, who knows, maybe i’ll expand my spotify library in due time)

there are people on this website in the CR fandom who are so much better equipped to answer this, but u asked me, and i never really bothered to integrate into the cr fandom anyway because i feel like theyre all cooler than me and i just wanna sit down and listen to like, the same two albums on repeat, but anyway. to answer your question…

it really just depends on what genre you like. what kind of music you want to get into; i can sit here and tell you to listen to pink floyd and go on about their significance but i can’t make you Like them yknow?

so…..i’m just gonna list a few of my favorite songs by the most well-known classic rock bands because, like i said i just kind of barely scratch the surface on the classic rock format as a whole

as some of you may be aware, i am drew “beatlefucker” angelshane (thanks ana) and to get these bug boys out of the way, i’ll give u some song recs from the beatles! (early 1960s to 1970) (genres: rock, pop, psychedelia)

surely you’ve heard of them; if not, they caused a huge uproar across the world called beatlemania. think of like…tumblr, as a planet, and the beatles is the newest, hottest anime of the season, and everybody’s got a huge heart boner for them. because that’s basically what it was.

here are some of their songs that have been in my head for the past few days: drive my car (rubber soul, 1965); eleanor rigby (revolver, 1966); and if i fell (a hard day’s night, 1964)

revolver is the most recent album i’ve listened to, they have more but the next proper Album is sgt. pepper and that feels…like. so much. it’s a Huge Album, both content-wise and…history-wise? anyway, it’s very intimidating for me and i think i want to take my time with it before i rush in

i’m just gonna get led zeppelin (late 1960s to 1980, some reunions sprinkled here and there,) out of the way, now, too. (genres: hard rock, blues rock, folk rock, heavy metal)

let me just say right here: i hate jimmy page. as a person. and i honestly think most of his solos aren’t…that great. but for real, i won’t tolerate any of that ugly shithead on my blog and just because i like LZ doesn’t mean i condone any of the shit he did.

(you’ll notice a trend, especially in the older bands, that controversy is super common. u can’t..really get into classic rock without having to see the darker side of your faves. it sucks, nobody’s perfect, and i don’t agree with separating the artist from the art, but it does get hard to like certain music when you know the shit that happened with certain artists.)

Anyway! that being said, i truthfully only really listen to led zeppelin and led zeppelin ii. some physical graffiti but, eh. So, if you wanted to get into lz, you’re askin the wrong person, is what i’m saying jfkgsdj

here’s my song recs: good times bad times and dazed and confused (led zeppelin, 1968); whole lotta love and ramble on (led zeppelin ii, 1969); kashmir (physical graffiti, 1975)

and honestly the JP thing is why i don’t really listen to LZ much outside of their self titled and lz2. cos like. i just can’t.

QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN (1970s to…now? personally, if freddie mercury isn’t involved then..is it really queen) (genre: rock)

if you don’t know who queen is, you know who queen is. bohemian rhapsody? of course you know that song. everyone does.

but if you don’t then that’s perfectly ok too. it’s a good song imo. not their Best, but it’s good

i gotta be honest, i listen to singles mostly. i’ve got a lot on my proverbial plate and while i Love freddie mercury (bi king) sometimes i’m just. not in the headspace for queen. they’re good but a certain specific set of circumstances need to happen where i feel aligned with queen music enough to listen to it. also, freddie’s death makes me really sad and if i think about it too hard i’ll get depressed.

here’s my favorite queen songs!!!

brighton rock and killer queen (sheer heart attack, 1974); you’re my best friend (a night at the opera, 1975); somebody to love and GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY (a day at the races, 1976); TOO MUCH LOVE WILL KILL YOU (made in heaven, 1996)

honestly..queen is so influential and inspiring and i fucking love freddie mercury so like. those are just a few of my favorites. i could honestly go on forever about it but let’s stop there

now let’s get away from the boys and talk about stevie nicks because she is my mother and i would die in her place given the chance. i love her. I Love Her.

but i mean you’d probably better begin at fleetwood mac (late 1960s to the mid 1990s; late 1990s to …now?) (genres: pop rock, soft rock, blues rock, art pop, british blues)

this is a band i don’t know much about. because there’s apparently so much to know about them, so much inter-band dynamic drama. from what i’ve skimmed. So Much Drama.

i…can’t provide any songs for you, because i dont listen to fleetwood mac and i need to fix this ASAP but i feel like the time isn’t right yet. is that dumb of me to think? probably, but i’m gonna stick by my guns.

you should listen to fleetwood mac and tell me what you think!!!

(yes i included a portion on stevie nicks without giving song recs because i’m awful: listen to edge of seventeen, bella donna, 1981)

okay back to smelly dudes cos that’s all the world fuckin cares about i guess

pink floyd!!! (mid 1960s to mid 1990s, mid 2000s, and early/mid 2010s) (genres: progrock, art rock, psychedelic rock)

i mean i love them but i’m just dipping my toes in the water here. i’ve barely listened to them, but from what i’ve heard they’re very good. VERY politically driven. i cannot stress this enough. they’re the good kind of politics i think though

you’ve most definitely seen the album art for the dark side of the moon. like, you just have. there’s probably no way you couldn’t have. (but if u haven’t thats fine)

here’s some tunes: money (tdsotm, 1973); the wall. just. the wall. if you love concept albums, here you go. listen to the wall.

that’s all i got. pathetic, i know, but i’m workin my way up i promise

here’s where we get into more familiar territory. ..having said that, i don’t really know much about the history of the rolling stones, but a good friend of mine Does and maybe i can pry info out of her. but i won’t bc she’s too cool 4 school and she’s really great

anyway, the rolling stones!!! (early 1960s to like. now i guess) (genres: rock, blues, blues rock, rock and roll)

woof. what can be said about them really. there’s…..almost too much to say. i love them a lot.

Okay when i get into bands, its in my DNA to listen from the very earliest recording i can find (usually on spotify nowadays) so i’ve been sslowly working my way past the baby pebbles albums (mostly covers) to their original work (fun fact did you know john and paul of beatles fame wrote their own music, and when mick and keith of stones fame found out it was In Fact That Easy they began to write their own music too? fascinating.)

ANYWAY here’s some stones songs: gimme shelter and you can’t always get what you want (let it bleed, 1969); angie (goats head soup, 1973); sympathy for the devil (beggars banquet, 1968)

again i am….Slowly inching my way up their discography. snails pace. i’ll get there. (u can ask glimmerkeith on tumblr for stones song recs, bc shes great and knows much more than i do and i would die for jenn)

now here’s a band…….that i’ve rediscovered pretty recently. try, last week.

AC/DC!!!!!!!! (early 1970s to now) (genres: hard rock, blues rock, rock and roll)

this is Very Much Your Dads™ Music. probably. most likely, anyway. but listen: i saw them in concert once and (while it probably…wasnt the best experience for me) i had a fucking Blast. very sad things happened in this band in the last few months.

not recent, but very important, in 1980 their lead singer bon scott died and everyone was sad. then brian johnson came out with his fuckin voice and everyone was like “ok sweet lets get back to rock n’ roll”

so this will be split by scott’s era and the johnson era (heh heh) And, because i’m familiar with this band, i’ll list the album in question and name a few songs off it instead of just naming songs. because yes.

scott:

T.N.T (1975); it’s a long way to the top (if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll); T.N.T; high voltage

dirty deeds done dirt cheap (1976); dirty deeds done dirt cheap (edit: i just realized how much i actually hate this album and only like that song so WHOOPS but i wanna keep the formatting so, yknow)

let there be rock (1977); let there be rock; whole lotta rosie

highway to hell (1979); highway to hell (it just felt really weird, making a reclist of songs by ac/dc and Not including this one)

johnson:

back in black (1980); HELLS BELLS; shoot to thrill; given the dog a bone; back in black; you shook me all night long

for those about to rock we salute you (1981); for those about to rock (we salute you)

the razors edge (1990); thunderstruck

making this list, it hit me how much of bon scott i actually Listen to when i listen to ac/dc dfkjghjdfksdsfj but uh yeah those. are good

AND NOW…FOR THE FUCKIN MOMENT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR

GUNS! AND! ROSES! (mid 1980s to NOW MOTHERFUCKERS!!! THEYRE BACK!!! well, touring at least) (genres: hard rock, heavy metal

arguably my favorite band. subjectively, my favorite classic rock band. objectively? they own a huuuge portion of my heart, and my ass.

so listen up: these two kids from indiana run away to california to get out of fucking indiana, because who wants to stay in indiana, (it’s more like, one gets out, and like a year later the other kid tries to find him in the big mean streets of L.A) and along the way they get shuffled in and out of bands together. they start bands, break up bands, the whole fuckin shebang.

and then a few chance miracles happen and suddenly guns n’ roses is formed in like 1985. my boys? those are my boys.

i’m gonna do what i did w ac/dc and bullet the albums and then i’m gonna talk about the albums because i got SHIT to SAY

appetite for destruction (1987); welcome to the jungle, out ta get me, paradise city, sweet child o’ mine, ROCKET QUEEN

all right so here’s the deal, it was very hard not picking every single song on the album because every single song on the album is fucking perfection. actual gold. there’s no flaws in this album. Nothing. everything is good and perfect and i’m not biased at all

did you know axl rose (one of the boys from indiana) recorded each line individually? so, he sang a line, and then stopped recording, and then started recording the next line because he wanted it to be perfect?

did you know appetite was originally a flop album but after this dude got the guys at MTV to play the music video for Jungle at like 5am, guns n’ roses BLEW THE FUCK UP. Everybody know about them practically overnight. it was surreal and really cool, apparently.

and did you know axl played the synthesizer in paradise city? that’s adorable. i fucking love him.

gn’r lies (1988); patience; used to love her

the first four tracks in this EP are from their very first EP ever recorded - it Sounds like it’s taken from a live show but they dubbed in the audience in post, to make it seem like they had huge crowds attending their shows when in reality that wasn’t the case. (their first ep was released in december 1986, they had loyal fans but the crowd wasn’t that rowdy until after appetite came out)

believe me when i tell you. don’t listen to one in a million. or like, do. but i’m not gonna fight anyone about this. it’s fucked up. i’m not defending axl at all and i actually struggled with liking guns after i listened to it.

but unfortunately here we are and i saw them in concert and i had to deal with some fuckhead in the row behind me and his friend who kept Shouting that they play the song, when nobody on stage could her them, and like. of course they wouldn’t play it today. fuck off man

use your illusion i (1991); right next door to hell; dust n’ bones; perfect crime; november rain; BAD APPLES; COMA

i tried to limit these to five songs an album but i fuckin can’t, anon. illusion1 is just so fucking perfect. i can’t choose between my children. pls forgive me

on dust n’ bones and double talkin’ jive is izzy stradlin doing vocals (the second indiana boy, the one who left indiana first) and he’s regarded as the most unnderrated member in gnr by like everybody. so much so that it’s almost…too much. but like basically he was addicted to drugs and everything and then he sobered up when everyone else in the band was still hooked and he was like “wtf i’m out” and axl was like noooo :(

use your illusion ii (1991); civil war; 14 years; GET IN THE RING; locomotive; estranged; you could be mine

UYI1 and 2 were released on the same day. can you imagine how fuckin wild that day was? gnr fans scrambled to their record stores by the hordes probably.

izzy does vocal work in 14 years and this album was his last contribution to the band

uhhhh this album is also fucking perfect but i get sad listening to it sometimes so i try not to? very emotionally driven work. but like, where UYI1 was mostly passionate and angry-ish based, UYI2 is much more contemplative and uhh. sad. i guess.

“the spaghetti incident?” (1993)

this is a cover album and also the last album to feature my love, my soul, my light, my heart, slash. also duff. i mean i love him probably almost just as much but, yeah. duff actually looks like my cousin’s dad so i can’t really…. um. i feel weird about talking about him kjdfgd

but SLASH my god what a perfect man. i love him more than almost everything.

hey fun fact in between UYI and TSI, guns n’ roses toured with metallica and that tour is when slash, In His Autobiography, said he “lost” axl. his word. he Lost axl.

axl rose is a whole fuckin…..topic for another time, and i’m not gonna get into my own bullshit here, but that’s basically the situation when you listen to TSI. the band is fractured and barely holding together. after TSI, slash and duff leave GNR and axl is the only original member from the band still in it

(of course that opens up a conversation of who was originally in guns n’ roses but that’s another discourse for another time)

CHINESE DEMOCRACY (2008); CHINESE DEMOCRACY; BETTER; THERE WAS A TIME; SORRY; MADAGASCAR; PROSTITUTE

I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS. ALBUM. MORE THAN I COULD EVER EXPRESS. everyone says it’s “not gnr” of COURSE it isn’t gnr, when YOU think of GNR, you see slash. and like, i love slash? but he didn’t make the band. EVERYONE - axl, izzy, steven, duff, And slash made the band. after steven was kicked, gnr lost a huge part of what made them stand out, what made the band unique.

and like, fuck, i love dizzy. i love all of the new additions. but you cannot. fucking look me in the eyes and tell me you love UYI But you hate CD because it’s “not gnr”. like. fuck you man.

ugh anyway. i just gotta let y’all know my Stance on this. i love chinese democracy. i’ll defend this album with my fucking life. i was really…disappointed when, at my concert, i didn’t hear more CD but like i also saw slash in person (albeit, from far away, but we shared the same arena and that’s. more than i can handle)

i wanna get lyrics from prostitute tattooed on my body.

also like you can’t tell me better and sorry aren’t about slash sorry but that’s just the fuckin tea

Now, listen, this ask got away from me. i didn’t include…SO many bands because, like i said, i just scratch the surface of what classic rock is. my word isn’t law, ok? that bein said, i am always, ALWAYS down to talk about any of the bands here, and others!!! if i know of them. i’m always taking music/song recs, too.

thanks..for reading this stupid answer to your innocent ask sdfkjghsdf

[zeiscomplex]

I dug up some of my ztd liveblogging I did on my private blog back when the game first came out, it’s great stuff

diana: look at these robots :) sigma why are you so quiet sigma: *internally screaming abt luna, his robot he made to look like diana*

me: I just want Q team to live and escape happily together,,,, eric and mira can take care of Q and everything will be okay spoilers: *whisper the sin in my precious spoiler free ears* me: n o

brain: hey remember that one scene in vlr. the one w/ sigmas arm getting crushed and the absolutely disgusting crunching noise me: 👀👀👀👀👀 *slams fists on table* ztd where’s sigmas arms getting chopped off like promised

me: sigma get ur arms cut off sigma: gets them blown off in an explosion instead me: fUCK #damn I didn't see this coming #at least I know he'll be fine? #bc he's survived this before lol

me: so phi1 died and phi2 raised phi3 and phi3 met her own parents the year before she was even born me: nice #me: when will I stop making posts in this format #me: idk lol

past me: the dream is dead, q team won’t have the domestic life :( me now: tHE DREAM IS ALIVE ERIC AND MIRA WILL RAISE THE SMALL SEAN #I'M SCREAMING #I LOVE THIS GAME

me: haha yeah let me just go through junpei’s tumblr tag it’ll be fun *starts crying over ztd and how happy i am that junpei and akane are finally happy* #oh my god i just #he was so moody and upset but he still cared about her so much #and randomly they'd start joking around with each other like the good old days of 999 #and he got her a ring im crying #'you always said you wanted a ring on your left hand' *puts it on her hand* #'oh junpei....... im so happy but that's my right hand u know' #'....... oh. whoops. it uh looked left from my pov' #im crying so much i love them #stop them please #it's been a week almost and im not ok i need more #also my paraphrasing is almost exactly what they said ok #hhhhhhhhh #im gonna fight them both #*meanwhile carlos is in the background being the 3rd wheel giving them a thumbs up* #(my ot3)

*still crying* ok im gonna finally pull up the scene *finds it on the flow chart first try* destiny,,, #i hate junpei wtf #why does he exist

i love how her crying gradually changes into laughter like damn jumpy u never change u dork #his awkwardness is my favorite part though #the whole right hand thing was golden #also 'you're right' vs 'your right' joke lol

[insert phone recording of the boy and the ring scene] I’d like to title this particular scene as “after 3 games and 20 different deaths and a shit ton of flirting we finally move past friendship straight into engaged” #ft carlos one of many that ship them #and their relationship counselor for the game

#i just love them #i don't know where all this love came from but #rn i'm super affected by their dumb relationship #and the ring #hhhhhhhh #ok i'm done #maybe (spoiler: he wasn't done)

#AND I'M CRYING AGAIN #i hate akane so much #why do she and junpei exist #i'm gonna fight them so much #SHE TOLD HIM HER LEFT HAND WAS ON RESERVE #SHE KEPT IT ON HER RIGHT HAND FOR 45 YEARS #gdi akane #i'm so happy they both got a happy ending this time

junpei: I’m done playing hero!!!! stop expecting me to be like I was last year!!!!! akane: *in danger* junpei: (ง'̀-'́)ง  don’t touch my girl

zero time dilemma fucked me up so much more than i expected tbh #it was so good

[ouijasurfboard-blog]

a very first-drafty sample chapter from the middle of EACAG

Chapter 39: A Blanket Fort of Nonsense

(because of tumblr formatting, things previously in italics may no longer appear as such. gee, that sucks. hopes it still reads okay thanks for reading

)

Cody burst from the shadows and into the streetlight, clothes sodden and dripping, thinning hair pinned to his face. His left eye was squinted by a swelling purple bruise and his lip had been torn open. His hands were bloody, half of them clutching his ribs. Furthermore, and most importantly, he’d lost his glasses. “The hell happened to you?” He stumbled forward, gathered himself, and put a hand on the streetlight to keep steady. “Ellie—have you been following me?” There was stagger in his voice as well as his balance. “Dude, no, I—” “Stop following me! God! I’m never alone! Why is everyone obsessed with me? It’s like, ew, I can feel you staring. Sorry. We were having a good time, and then I threw up on you with words. I’m so sorry.” He hunched over and vomited off the curb. “Ew. Anyway. It’s cool that you were following me. I get it. Sorry for freaking out. You’re like… my cool, wacky mom who’s younger than me.” My idiot son wasn’t done vomiting. I moved closer. “Cody, buddy, baby, your glasses—” “Sooo, here’s what happened. Did I interrupt you? Sorry. Don’t care. I mean, I do care, but, like, oh right, so, my glasses. So here’s what happened to my glasses. I was out with the boys.” Cody definitely met all of these boys no more than eight hours ago. “And we were at this club, then the song comes on, you know the one, and then I sing along, and everyone’s like ‘woah Cody we didn’t know you were bleeblerhblerhwhatever’ because I don’t, anyway, so this girl is like, ‘blerhblerh hey youuuerrr good singer me and the ladies going to a karaoke bar’ and I was like, ‘hell YEAH’ so I get in this van, and they’ve got like beads and shit and erm-ermpheta-amphetamines and at first I’m like, ‘naaaw dude’ but then they’re like, ‘yaaaw, dude’ and so I’m gonna, but they, so like, my badge, my fake badge, ‘aaagh oh shit a cop’ so I get the SHIT kicked out of me by this old guy and these three girls and this HUGE guy, and I’m coughing up blood but THEN the BOYS show up, drag me back to the first club, and then I’m like, to uh, the bartender, ‘hey can I a doubleblerhblerhblerh’ and she’s like ‘duude yourr fuckin face go to a mirror’ so I go to the bathroom and my face is straight fucked to shit, Ellen, and, uh, like, my glasses, where are they, not on my face, that’s where, but it’s party time let’s go beast mode so I pound a few with the boys and then they’ve got this shit that’s on fire but the fire’s purple but so like what the fuck and I get something called a curb stomp and that might be where I went wrong but anyway so me and Ian are outside wrestling and I’m punching him and he’s punching me and I punch him in the face and I hear this crack and I’m like oh shit I just fucked up his face forever bye so I’m running and the boys are chasing me and I think I lost them a few blocks ago? Who knows anyway I missed you.” His whole body began titling forward, and I put a hand on him to keep the pavement from flying upwards into his already sufficiently fucked face. “So, how many boys are there, total?” He counted on his fingers, muttering names to himself, lost count, swore, started again, and answered, “uhh… six?” Whilst contemplating my ability to somehow arrange the inconspicuous deaths of six people, what I had previously disregarded as over-vigorous rainfall turned to be foot steps fast encroaching. A man came into view from behind Cody, looking only half as frazzled but thrice as bloodthirsty. “HEY YOU! DEPRESSING HAIR GUY!” Cody’s eyes went wide as insert tired simile. He grabbed me by the shoulders. “I AM GOING TO DIE.” I took his wrist and bolted. I made it about five steps dragging him as a sack of half-blind whining meat before realizing we wouldn’t get anywhere. That he had managed to evade anyone at all was a miracle. The man tore Cody away from me and forced him against a wall by his neck. It all happened at once: I went for his eyes with my fingernails, he booted me in the shin, I took his ear in my teeth, he dropped Cody and kicked me in the ribs, I fell away with a bloody ear in my mouth, air having departed my lungs entirely. I thought sadly to myself, whoops Cody was right on this one. I clutched my ribs and curled up on the pavement. This massive pug-looking guy raised his foot to stomp the life from me when Cody’s fist emerged from the shadows like a hairy angel and, at the very least, distracted him momentarily. He recoiled his fist in pain, probably having shattered something if his agh! was any indicator. “I’m sorry. I’m very drunk and nerdy and skinny,” he said, wincing with every breath. Cody got himself socked in the gut. “Why are you doing this? I thought you didn’t like Ian.” “Your face annoys me. It’s a real punchable face.” Cody sighed. “Okay. I get it. So—” He stopped mid-sentence to vomit. The man raised his fist. “Nononowait! Just… thirty seconds. Oh my god. So, yeah, sorry about your shoes, and sorry about my face. It just came this way. And… you can punch it until it isn’t annoying, but please don’t hurt my dumb friend Ellen.” “Dude! She bit my ear off!” “Yeah, she’s really, really dumb. She’s so dumb that I bet she learned her lesson just from those ribs you broke. You don’t even need to break her legs or kill her. Also, she, like, only has one hand and stuff, and she’s like, super super short, so it wouldn’t really be a fair fight.” “You think I care?” Cody glanced down at me. “Ellen. Bernie. You gotta—” He was interrupted by another blow, but I took his meaning well enough. There was a scared little kid in danger out there, and this jowly cunt wasn’t going to stop me from finding him and then subsequently hugging him and never letting go again. I forced myself off the ground, drawing attention away from Cody long enough for him to just kick this dude right in the balls. He recoiled only just very briefly, which was nearly enough time to evade him, but not quite. He kneed Cody in the groin. I was on my feet and this point, and with a stroke of luck, managed to once again kick this dude in the balls before he plunged his fist into my gut. Everyone involved, at this point, was very angry and in pain. Unfortunately, drunk Cody lacked the manic superhuman strength of heroin Cody and even the admittedly subpar coordination of sober Cody, so our combined force didn’t amount to much. Fortunately, pug-boy’s testicles seemed to be in a pretty hefty state of distress, and I saw his determination begin to falter. Unfortunately, the pain only made him angrier, and the anger only made him punchier. “I’LL KILL YOU!” he screamed. I tugged Cody away. “You gotta run, dude,” I told him, as though it would persuade his balance to be more compliant. He tried his best. He really did. The large and shouting man was ever on our heels. I dug my fingers into Cody’s ridiculous flannel shirt and held on for (his) dear life. He stumbled on every slight abnormality in the sidewalk. Every bump, every crack, every shred of litter was a hurdle. In the seven years that we’d known each other, Cody had lost his glasses twice. Once after passing out at an otherwise underwhelming party to find them two days later sunk in a half-eaten nutrient slab, and the second time after accidentally leaving them at his then-girlfriend’s cell to retrieve them the following week when she finally found them behind her desk (one of many small unfortunate happenings that ultimately culminated in their breakup). Both times, their absence had put his life on halt. I swerved around a corner, dragging Cody, who’d become a tearful limping disaster. This wasn’t really the place to admit that I’d forgotten where I was. The hotel was definitely on the same plane of time and space as us, and if we were lucky, within the same ten mile radius, too. Finding it again was a matter of endurance and favour with our respective personal deities. Cody and I scrambled wildly from street to street, looping around familiar sign posts sometimes deliberately but sometimes definitely not deliberately and ultimately just getting ourselves more lost in an effort to lose slobbery hulking pug-boy. Cody was panting and heaving like he was in labour. I expected him to collapse at any moment, and I wasn’t entirely confident in my ability to lug around one hundred and twenty-four pounds of bored astigmatic stoner over my shoulders whilst also running for my life. As was to be expected at this point, a dumb idea occurred to me. I swerved into an alley, optimistically refusing to check over my shoulder, and flipped up the unfortunately crusty lid of a dumpster. “Hop over,” I said to a barely lucid Cody. His immediate reaction was to take advantage of the sudden interlude in our running to throw up. He had the good sense to wipe his mouth afterwards, at least. “What?” I slapped my hand against the dumpster in frustration. “The dumpster! Get it the dumpster!” He nodded slowly. “Dumpster… yeah… good thinking, Helen.” His eyes fluttered closed. I shook him by the shoulder. “I’m gonna boost you up, okay?” He nodded vigorously. “Boost me up, Scotty,” he said, drooling and struggling to keep awake. I clumsily took his foot with the one hand and propelled him upwards with all the strength of five determined meerkats. He tumbled into the dumpster like a sad domino made out of jelly. I followed after him and let the lid clatter shut over our heads, pinching my fingertips as it closed. “It’s dark and smelly in here,” whispered Cody. It was reassuring to hear that he hadn’t passed out. “It sure is, buddy.” “We have to find Bernie.” I took this matter very seriously. “Or die trying.” He patted his hand around until it landed on my shoulder. “Don’t die for a goat, Ella.” I shrugged. “Gotta die somehow.” He withdrew his hand. Time crawled by at a drugging pace. There wasn’t a comfortable way to sit in a dumpster. I waited, distracting myself with memories and hypotheticals, occasionally nudging Cody to make sure he wasn’t dead. After my awkwardly-positioned legs and the odd metal shape jutting into them became completely unbearable, I decided it was as good a time as any to leave. “Time to sneak out, huh?” It was hard to draw a coherent image of what his non-verbal cues might’ve been in the dark, but I assumed he was shrugging. “I guess,” he said. I slowly raised the dumpster lid. Cody’s arms flailed over the side and he dragged himself out, limbs moving in a fashion more akin to an octopus than a think-piece writer. “Oof,” he muttered, tailbone hitting the pavement. I followed after him, stopping to help him to his feet. “We’re good, right? Yeah. We’re good.” I glanced around, scanning every detail of our surroundings that wasn’t obscured by darkness. Maybe we weren’t good. There wasn’t really an effective metric by which to tell. “We’re so good,” I reassured him, making the mistake of patting him on the back. He shrunk away. “Agh! My ribs,” he whelped. “I’m so sorry. Oh my god. Are you okay?” He seemed stunned that I cared. “Uh… I guess I’m good.” He evidently was not good. “Like I said! We’re good! Totally good!” Cody pouted, lip trembling. He folded his arms and stared down at his feet. “I wanna go to bed,” he said, voice straining as is its wont before one breaks down into sobs. “I really just wanna go to bed. Where are we?” He sniffled and wiped his nose. “Everything hurts.” He kicked his toes into the side of the dumpster, biting back a sharp gasp of pain as the joints in his foot staggered and crunched. The dumpster didn’t seem to mind, much, at least. “I got beat up by so many different people. Is my face really that punchable?” Cody fixed his eyes on mine, waiting for an answer. His features were crusted with blood and tightened in just, like, the saddest frown. His already prominent eyebrows were spiked in odd directions by the fray and beaded with raindrops and sweat and blood. His busted lip had stopped bleeding but promised a scar that wouldn’t be, I don’t know, pleasant. The rainfall and the brawling had done nothing for an already unfortunate hair situation. The spots above his temples and on the back of his head where his hair had begun to abandon him entirely weren’t quite as obscured by the eccentric volume of the rest of his hair, having been flattened and soaked. The real essence of his punchability, I decided, came from his facial hair, which crawled all the way up his cheeks and down his neck and always looked vaguely unkempt in a flippant I don’t even care, I’m just so cool and aloof and stuff kind of way that really miffed some people. He just looked smug. And as long as we’re bashing Cody’s appearance, his ears were a little on the big side. On top of it all, he was naked without his glasses. Truly, the man who always resembled a sad, hipstery less-hairy ewok had become the saddest, hipsteriest less-hairy ewok ever to ewok sadly. He didn’t really need to hear all that. “Not at all.” Not to me, at least. “You’ve got a super normal face.” You’ve got weird eyebrows. I mean, I like ‘em, but, buddy… And your eyes are kinda sunken. “Don’t worry. You’re cute.” “I’m cute?” “Yes. Absolutely.” He sniffled. “But, like, just nerdy cute, right?” “Yeah. It’s the glasses.” “But I lost my glasses…” “That’s okay. You’re still stoner cute.” “Stoner cute isn’t a thing.” “Uh, yeah it is.” “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Just, like, take a finger and fix your eyebrows.” He nodded and tried to smooth them into place. “Cool. Better.” I mean, his face was still bloody and swollen in places, but, eh. “Cool.” “Cool.” He sighed. “But, I’m not, like, hot, right?” “Eh.” He straightened his shirt. “Cool.” He swallowed another heavy breath to stop his quivering. “Cool cool.” Still unsure about his balance, I walked carefully and close so I needn’t reach far should he just, fuckin, like, fall right the fuck over. The buildings weren’t so unfamiliar now that they were more than just a blur in my periphery. We had made it more than a few blocks away from the hotel, but we hadn’t gotten ourselves as hopelessly lost as I had feared. We were just normal lost. “How bad’s your vision?” I asked. He looked down at me, face pale and still a little shell-shocked. “Like, bad.” “’Kay, but, like, bad bad or just straight fuckin blind.” “Uhh… I can’t read, can’t do details or things that are far away or things with small parts or operate machinery or coordinate well or grab things or write… uh… Actually, I probably could read if the letters were really big, but, uh, yeah. That’s it.” He would periodically reach to adjust glasses that weren’t there, dropping his hand sadly upon being reminded. Finding them became more immediately imperative than whatever other bullshit we were up to. Something to do with an organ harvester? Who knows. Bottom line was that Cody was, while not useless and still better company than no company (sixty percent of the time, at least), in very desperate need of his dumb thick-rimmed trendy-ten-years-ago glasses. “Can you still contact your optometrist guy?” “Optometrist? Dude, no, okay, shut up, it’s a good story, though, listen. So, I was walking… this was like, twelve years ago? Oh shit, I’m old… so, uh, I was walking… I already had glasses at this point, by the way. The school counsellor got me these shitty ones… anyway… So, I’m fourteen, walking on the docks, and there’s this bucket, and I’m like, oh a bucket, but then I got closer, and I was like, oh shit, this bucket is full of glasses. Mostly broken ones, right? So I’m trying them on, ‘cause, why not, and this guy starts yelling, ‘hey kid uuhhh so, like, that’s my bucket’ and he’s a scavenger, right? Because there’s like, also a bucket of shoes lying around and a bucket of tea strainers and whatever… So, I’m just grabbin a handful of not-broken glasses and running away because, like, I’ve just been coasting by at this point by cheating in school and I hold papers really close to my face… anyway… So, one of the pairs, like, work, I know, what the fuck, ayy, Mazel Tov, Cody can see. And, uh, yeah. I kept ‘em. Duh. The end. How have you not heard this story?” “I don’t ask you about—” “You don’t ask me about myself as much as you should,” he finished for me. He scoffed. “I dunno why, I’m preettyy interesting.” This wasn’t entirely true. The uh, me not asking him about himself part, not the him being interesting part. Actually, never mind, neither were entirely true. I felt like I knew more about Cody than anyone should know or care to know about Cody. There was a filing cabinet inside of my brain labeled ‘bullshit nonsense about Cody’s life’ take took up a vacancy once occupied by, who knows, how to negotiate a pay raise or how to budget properly instead of just hoarding money like a sad(der) Smaug. “You sure are, Cody.” “I bet that’s why I got beat up.” “Because you’re interesting?” “Because I’m interesting.” I nodded in agreement. That put a dumb short-lived smile on his face. He must’ve had some faith that I knew where I was going, since he didn’t seem to question it much. I was confident, perhaps (probably) over-confident in my sense of direction. It’s a finite space, I reasoned, and we can’t possible be getting further away. We could. In large, square-ish letters, the sign read INTERIM GARDEN HYPOTHESIS WAREHOUSE HOLE, flashing pink and accented with gold baubles. The door below was an archway woven with flowering vines and patterned ribbons, among them a smattering of just the most pretentious butterflies. The building itself was robed in an elaborate mural depicting a panel of dapperly-clothed animals seated at some sort of senate, all gathered below a three-eyed goat. The goat was crowned and sat upon a throne at the head of the senate floor. I felt viscerally unnerved. Cody squinted at the sign. “Yeah, don’t worry, it’s some Noam Chomsky magic realism boho nonsense,” I assured him. We’d arrived in some sort of strange hellish Halsey-esque plaza where the stores were either barren and abandoned à la zombie apocalypse or teeming with aesthetically-bohemian taken-back-by-the-earth-and-also-Portland life. Roses crept down from windows and thistles jutted upwards from cracks in the pavilion. Entrances were attended by delphiniums and hibiscus sprouting beneath fern umbrellas. Ventilation shafts sighed baby’s breath into the corridors and blew nettles amongst the ghosts and husks of furniture. Christmas bells hung from streetlights and lilacs pooled amidst a collapsed fountain. Geraniums and lavender and ominous oleander waved us towards the Warehouse Hole. It was all very eco-chic. Cody ventured further into the flowery nonsense strip mall. “The colourful stuff is flowers, right,” he said, unimpressed. Pink light glittered against the blood and rain that painted him. “This is dumb. Like…” He gestured wildly at everything. “This is dumb. Are we lost?” Yes. “Pfft. No.” “We’re gonna find my glasses, right?” he said, talking to a mannequin. “It’s our number one priority.” He stumbled trying to follow my voice. “Okay. Cool. Good.” “Are you gonna be okay?” “Who knows? Maybe.” I brushed my hand along a white bouquet of Star-of-Bethlehem. “You know what? Not a fan.” The flowers looked to be watching me leave, which was the opposite of an appropriate flower activity. “It’s bright, it’s spooky… not a fan. Uh, not on board with this one.” Cody lost his balance on a root curving up from the pavement, catching himself on a wayward clothing rack. “Haha. Walking: hard mode.” He puked into a corner of unsuspecting irises and daisies. Regaining his footing was a matter of crunching a broken window beneath his sneakers and nearly becoming impaled upon an unfortunately-positioned upturned signpost. “Ellen, uh, seriously, where are we?” Interim Garden Hypothesis Warehouse Hole. “A blanket fort of nonsense.” He staggered away from the broken glass. “Oh. I hate blanket forts.” Drawn by the flashing lights, he veered towards the entrance to the Hole. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ve been here. We’re lost, aren’t we? Uugggghhh, Elleeennn…” “We’re not lost! You can only get lost in the desert and in the ocean because everything looks the same. Everywhere else you can just backtrack.” “WE DON’T KNOW WHERE WE ARE!” “YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE!” “I’M LEGALLY BLIND!” I filled my lungs with pollen-dusted air, raising my hands in a calming arc, and sighed, ultimately doing nothing to lessen the tension. “Let’s just… go back the way we came, and figure it out from there.” “We’re going to the hotel, right?” “Hotel. Yes. Sleep. Then glasses.” I turned by back to the flowers, not without a pinch of regret that I wouldn’t sate my curiosity as to what the hell, I mean, just, like, what the hell, right? What’s going on here? The mural? What? Cody and I fumbled our way free of the Warehouse Hole pavilion. There seemed to be more flowers surrounding the exit than there’d been when it was our entrance. Watchful irises eyed our escape. The feeling of being spied upon lingered on the back of my neck. “Spooky, right?” “I don’t know, Ellen, my vision is shit right now, call back at a less shitty date, thanks.” The sign read ‘Zlotys St.’ but there was nothing zloty about it. A strange mingling of sprawling weeds and rain-freckled trash bags and masonry stained by a dazzling selection of mystery fluids coagulated, as it were, to form the district before us. Confused seagulls squawked overhead from the buzzing heads of streetlights. The first establishment past the plaza was a barber shop called Snippy’s which was attached to a laundromat called Swishy’s that itself was followed by a family-owned deli shop called Slicey’s. What humour! While the quirky fixtures of the city were as delightful as they were smelly, they remained unfamiliar and were of no help when it came to finding our way back. “You know, I should’ve bought a map,” I said, padding along, ducking beneath the odd awning to evade the rain. “You’re an idiot,” said Cody, who had had enough of life. “Nothing idiotic about being reflective of one’s past failings, amigo.” “You just never turn it off, do you?” “It’s called a coping mechanism, Cody. Look into one some time.” He sighed and picked up his pace, hand clutching his ribs as to, I assume, keep them from falling out of some open wound whose existence I wasn’t yet privy to. I caught up to him. “Are you good?” I asked. He remained visibly in pain. “I don’t know. No? Probably not. I just, ugh, I want to sleep it off, okay?” I frowned in pity at him. Whenever something adverse befell him on our dumb stupid completely necessary endeavour, I couldn’t escape my share of the blame. I was most worried in this moment that he’d finally gotten himself into a truly lethal pickle with those fisticuffs. Obviously, whatever happened, it was the boys’ fault, but obviously, it was really Cody’s own fault, but obviously, it was more than a little bit my fault for dragging him out here in the first place. “I know you’re gonna die no matter what and whatever, but I’d be pretty bummed if you died… soon…” “Thanks, I guess.” “So, please don’t die as a result of your injuries. The guilt would eat me alive, and it’s hard to effectively find a small, defenceless goat after you’ve been eaten alive.” “If you say don’t die or I’ll kill you, I will actually punch you.” Through the darkness and the downpour, it was hard to discern anything glaringly off about his appearance from the bored and tired norm. It was similarly hard to discern buildings we’d passed from ones we hadn’t. You could see the source of my predicament. I toyed with the prospect of returning to the Interim Garden Hypothesis Warehouse Hole for little reason beyond that it remained nearby and intriguing. “So, those flowers, huh?” I brought up out of nowhere. Cody scowled. “Hippies.” “But it was kinda neat, right? It was stupid—” “It was dumb as hell.” “…but kinda neat, though, right?” “I WANT TO GO TO BED.” I sighed and tugged my lips in a sympathetic smile. “Bed it is, Codes. Maybe tomorrow—” “Uugggghhhh, tomorrow suuucks.” “… after we find your glasses, we’ll, uh, we’ll pop by the warehouse.” The three-eyed-goat from the mural lingered on the back of my eyelids. Anything goat-related, at this point, seemed worth investigating. We turned a corner and Zlotys Street became a vaguely familiar cobbled road marked by a signpost that read Hellspring Rampart. To the right of us were brick-and-mortal buildings that stood as one long, undivided stretch of masonry, separated by interior walls rather than alleys. To the left was nothing but ocean. The sidewalk metamorphosed into the halfhearted suggestion of a pier underfoot. The black sky had waned into a dim grey and dawn loomed far off upon the waters. I knew Hellspring as the rickety cousin to the main docks where we’d arrived. I was confident that we were closer, now. “So, Codes…” “Ugh.” “What was the name of the club where you, uh… where you went?” “Uugghh… Uh… Okay. It’s called Boys Only Club, but it’s liiike, just the name. It’s not actually boys-only, right.” The whole situation was ruthlessly atypical of Cody. It was beyond strange for him to go out partying with strangers, let alone strangers of overbearing and loud masculinity. That was, until now, strictly my dominion. Of course, it was more than probable that the night’s unfortunate happenings had extinguished whatever curious appetite he might’ve had for the sort of debauchery he’d found. “How’d you end up there?” He scratched his head. “I probably walked.” “Yuh-huh. How’d you find, uh, the boys?” He made a sound that might’ve been a laugh, in a past life. “I have no idea!” His foot took a wrong turn and he nearly swerved into the ocean. I pulled him by his sleeve to my other side so I might act as a buffer between his shit balance and the sharks. “And what about, uh, those karaoke girls? What bar did you go to with them?” He gave me a long, condescending stare. “You think I know?” His glasses were lost as fuck. The brick buildings parted into the first alley we’d encountered for an irresponsibly long distance. It appeared as a long blue gash in the red walls. Banners and triangle flags and paper lanterns dangled on sagging strings overhead. A sign bolted in the bricks read LONG ALLEY. If you squinted, smaller letter inscribed below read *Beware rats; they’re not more afraid of you than you are of them. Quite the opposite, actually*. I shrugged at the warning. The end of the alley was bright and bustling, and the pier reached a dead end not far from where we stood. I decided on chancing the rats. Long Alley carried a thick, sickly, cinnamonny flavour in its breeze. Pipes coursed as veins along the walls, rusted and dripping. Cody trailed a hand on the bricks as he walked to keep from tripping again. The bricks soon gave way to doors and beaded archways into shops and things categorically near enough to shops to make no difference. Freckles of orange began to tinge the grey sky. “Hey Ellie,” said Cody with awkward, slow syllables. “What?” “You know what’s dumb?” “Probably.” “Well… I’ll tell you anyway…” He stopped, took hold of a low-hanging pipe, and threw it an accusing finger. “I can’t see or stand so good, but that is definitely a rat, and it is definitely following me.” The good and bad news was that he hadn’t been hallucinating from blood loss and exhaustion. The rat, a grotesque snow-white red-eyed creature of unusual size, glowered hungrily at Cody. It stood hunched on the rusted pipe, undaunted entirely by our presence per the foretelling of the sign. “Ohh, that’s a creepy baby right there,” I said, twiddling what few fingers I had in its direction. The rat stood still and stoic as a Buckingham Palace guard. “I don’t like you, pal. Don’t like those eyes,” Cody told the rat. “Go eat a cheese, ugly.” The rat wasn’t moved by his insults. “This is a nasty boy, Ellen. Let’s leave.” Cody shot the rat a venomous, knowing squint before shuffling along. The rat scurried across the pipes, following like a magnet. As we drew nearer to the end of the alley, more rats began to spring from the pipes and cracks in the mortar. Cody kept to the middlemost point between the walls, arms crossed crossly. Soon flowers began to wind down from the cracks as well, one for every new rat that bounded into view. My skin crawled. The alley spat us out into an overgrown pavilion bathed in the flashing pink light of INTERIM GARDEN HYPOTHESIS WAREHOUSE HOLE.

[imnottrulyjust-blog]

What depression is like

I wake up from a stupor fully remembering the nightmare was experiencing. The demons haunting me in my sleep. Her voice so clear near my ears just to have it muted by her mocking laughter.

♪I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed ♪

I reach or my phone to answer, but it’s not ringing. “Am I awake or still dreaming?” I could’ve sworn I heard her ringtone. I wonder if she went to sleep okay last night. I hope she wakes up well today. If I pray to an apparently non-existent deity, will she have a nice day today? Wait, what day is it today?

My body feels the net force of a neutron star acting on it while trying to will my ass out of bed each morning. Almost all light sources damage me; I say almost, because the light displayed by my smartphone while verifying if she still has me blocked on social media gives me a few seconds of hope while the apps load; almost, because the same light displayed by my phone while browsing my collection of pictures of her bring you a smile that is shattered by a scream of agony mixed with an endless stream of tears flowing from my dead eyes. Then again, she hated seeing me cry.

My pets, my loyal guardians and companions, whimper at my feet due to the lack of affection from their master. How long until they turn feral? Doesn’t matter. They’d be doing me a favour if they ate away at my body while I sleep. Then again, she wasn’t a huge fan of pets and would’ve taken them to a shelter to find a new home.

Oh, shower time. Some say the water running down your body washes away your pains. Fools! You’re just making space for new miseries. The only solace of being inside your shower is not having to be worried about flushing the toilet after taking a piss. So what if you pee on your feet? She’s gone anyhow; you don’t matter. A bit of body wash and nobody will even know you also stepped on a bit of shit after cleaning your anus. Then again, she was always a clean freak.

Well, I guess there’s also a benefit in being able to clean up fast after masturbating inside the shower. Oh, that sweet mixture of serotonin and oxytocin. What peaceful 60 seconds after cumming! You work at it for 60 minutes while trying to think of anything other than her and you get a full minute of relaxation. Whoop dee fucking do! Then again, she would get upset if I was moody.

Medical experts say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Well, fuck you. I wasn’t even supposed to wake up today, or ever again, and now you want me to cook something for myself? Then again, she would get worried if I didn’t take care of myself.

Need to get dressed for work. How bloody stupid is it that we can’t go to work wearing sweat pants and a comfortable t-shirt? Who the fucking hell cares if I don’t wear a suit every day I need to have a meeting with the higher ups? What does it matter if I don’t wear a button-up shirt every other day? Let me wear my Rick & Morty shirt or my witty engineering shirt every now and then. I know my boss wears his when he’s out with his family. Then again, what if I see her on my way to work? She liked when I dressed up nice.

“You’re a great manager! Keep up the good work! You saved the company millions with that study, so we hope you stick around for many years to come!” What does it matter? Any jackass with half a brain and respect for the job can achieve good result, until a student trained by me shows up asking for a job and takes mine away. Then again, on special occasions, she’d tell me how proud she was.

♪ I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed. Get along with the voices inside of my head ♪

Did my phone get hacked? I swear I keep hearing her damn ringtone.

Lunch time. I remember a time when friends would make fun of how much I would eat and envy the fact that I would stay in shape. That seems like ages ago, back when I still felt joy from doing physical activity. Back when I tried my damnedest to look good for her. Why should I care if I look good for myself? It’s not as if I’m a narcissist. Then again, she was always fond of looking her best. She always did, even when wearing sweat pants, a Star Wars shirt, and no makeup.

I look at the time, and somehow it’s already time for me to go to the university to help students with their final projects. What the fuck? Can I travel through time? I was eating lunch just a few minutes ago and it’s suddenly 4:30pm. I hope she was able to have lunch.

I dread going to the university. She’s still taking classes there and our times coincide. However, the students need me. They’re all missing titles for each figure, table, and chart; figures are not properly aligned; the data is poorly explained; the table of contents is manually formatted; no APA-style references; lackluster conclusions. Honestly, these reports are almost as mediocre and worthless as I am. I can’t let them hand in that shit. Just the way I helped her out polish her own work until the Sun rose in the morning.

“Since you’re too busy helping others, I can go fend for myself. I can take care of myself just fine. I have my own resources.” Is that all I am to her? A resource? No. I’m beneath that. KNOW YOUR PLACE, FOOL!

It’s late. I can finally go home, but why should I? My pets are there, but if anything happened to me, my closest friends would make sure that my furry pals get new, proper homes. I can easily build up enough speed on the highway to smash into a fully loaded semi-truck. Although, what if I survive? What if I only get badly injured? How am I going to explain what happened? “Sorry officer, I just really wanted to end it all and thought that ignoring my knowledge of physics and probabilities was a fantastic idea!”

What if my mother tries to keep me alive as a vegetable? What about my friends?

What about her? Would she care? Yeah, what about her?! Somebody, please, tell me! Would she care?! IS SHE EVEN AWARE OF HOW I FEEL?! GOD, ZEUS, BUDDHA, ANYBODY, PLEASE!!!! DOES SHE EVEN REALLY GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT HOW I FEEL?!?!?!?!

My chest hurts. I can’t breathe. Stop yelling at me! My chest fucking hurts! Am I having a heart attack? I can’t be having a heart attack I’m too young for a heart attack whatthehellisgoingon STOP YELLING what is this amIgoingcrazypleasestopyelling AM I GOING INSANE PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!

♪ I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed. Get along with the voices inside of my head. You’re trying to save me, stop holding your breath. ♪

My phone’s battery is dead. I must be hallucinating her ringtone. More importantly, how the hell did I get home? I know I was getting into my car just a minute ago. Maybe I should have dinner, albeit a late one. How about a banan… where did this box of fried chicken come from? When did I stop for food?

I eat about a third of the fried chicken.

And a banana.

With chocolate milk.

…because I can.

She’d probably scold me for eating poorly.

Time flies when you’re correcting written reports, browsing memes on social media, watching Netflix on your smart TV, and absentmindedly looking at all types of porn on Pornhub, Gelbooru, and Tumblr. How the hell did I reblog 100 images, gifs, and videos?

5:00 AM. Must’ve dozed off at some point. I can finish correcting tomorrow along with the 3 reports that are due in the afternoon, 2 meetings, e-mails, phone calls… I hope she’s okay.

♪ I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed. Get along with the voices inside of my head. You’re trying to save me, stop holding your breath. And you think I’m crazy, yeah, you think I’m crazy. ♪

Yeah, I think you’re crazy, but I know you’re amazing.

Good night and sweet dreams. If anything is to happen to you, may the universe instead direct it towards me. I love you.

♪I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed ♪

I reach or my phone to answer, but it’s not ringing. “Am I awake or still dreaming?” I could’ve sworn I heard her ringtone. I wonder if she went to sleep okay last night. I hope she wakes up well today. If I pray to an apparently non-existent deity, will she have a nice day today?

Wait, what day is it today?