#but like just in a mental way. physically i am just sitting here bc my migraine is exhausting md.

[floral-hex]

I’m fucking disabled

[dilfian]

im so mad and upset again

[toastsnaffler]

okaaaayyy finally watched I saw the tv glow :^)

[c1oud999]

hi

i just wanted to come on here and talk about my experience with spirituality. warning: longggg post ahead.

basically ive been in the spiritual community for YEARS now. ive had existential crisis since the age of 11 and ive gone through many phases of many different spiritual trends. from law of attraction, to witchcraft, to religious devotion, to law of assumption and now finally non dualism. i read books, meditated for hours and hours, talked to spiritual ppl from all walks of life and watched all the episodes of ganga upanishad (a show i still highly recommend, you can watch on youtube). all this childhood trauma and mental illness made me crave for sweet relief. but nothing really made sense until law of assumption. i thought that that would be it yk. i thought i was done searching but i think that was when i was searching for things the most. i do know i have it in my 4d, when will i see it? i thought i would get all my desires but did not meet success. and then the non dualism trend began and i hopped onto it like pretty much everyone else. i was bewildered at the stuff teachers kept saying. what do you mean everything's an illusion? there's no way that's true. my very real surroundings are causing me VERY real pain and suffering. oh no no there must be a deeper meaning behind all this. and so i read all the books in 4dbarbies drive, but nothing clicked. yes it made sense intellectually, but i didnt want to believe it bc where is the materialisation satisfaction here? also i felt none of the euphoria that was supposed to come with self realisation. which means i must not be a realised being. and then i cried and cried and cried, isolated myself, literally stopped going to school and just lay in bed all day. but ofc, i continued to read the tumblr posts like i had been doing for the past several years. and yesterday i read 4dkelly's post about giving up. it made sense. by the time i had finished reading the post i had truly given up on everything. on wanting, hoping, fearing, striving etc etc. i was SO tired. so i gave up. fell asleep. i woke up really late as usual and missed the school bus. i ate breakfast in silence, switched the tv on and lied down on the couch like always. and like always out of compulsion and force of habit i reached for my phone and looked up non dualism on twitter. and then i came across a tweet that said a simple sentence only- "nothing is ever actually happening." woah. that kinda drove me to the edge of the cliff i desperately wanted to jump off. i turned on some dnb background music and turned the shower on. i stood under the boiling hot water like some dramatic bitch and started piecing together the "puzzle". it all made so much sense now. i got out of the shower and left the house for the first time in months with a cute outfit and makeup on and everything. i went to the mall, bought candles, stickers, eye masks, coffee, and a doughnut with absolutely no social anxiety at all. i sat by window, read some poetry on my e-reader, cried, peered down at the floor below me and cried some more at the sight of little kids sitting on santa's lap and taking pictures and marveled at all the christmas decorations around me. it was insane. i decided i was going to be neutral towards everything but im in love. maddeningly so. in love with this dream that i thought did not love me back. but love is all there is. I AM ALL THERE IS. and i need you to take this literally. there is nothing happening. there is nothing here except you. nothing to fear, nothing to desire. ik a lot of people are going to dismiss this post because it's not a "materialisation success story" but i honestly dont think i can ever want anything physically bc in all its true essence, what is there to materialise? i am already whole and complete. i am lying on this cold hard floor, but i have never felt warmer. also ik there may be a lot of things ive written you might not agree with but again, this is NOT REAL. I AM. i hope this post helps you.

thank you to all the blogs ive come across and all the pointers they have shared: @se1f @realisophie @itgomyway @4dkellysworld @4dbarbie-backup @infiniteko @iamthat-iam and many more i cannot thank enough.

lots and lots of love (more than you can ever imagine), and good luck.

[inconsistent-kuroshitsuji-blog]

Can I request Sebastian with a gender neutral s/o (or master) who had a mental breakdown bcs of math and acted like nothing happened infront of him? (I'm gonna lose my mind over math)

My dearie, of course. I know, it has been a while, but now I am here. (That sounded like I'm some sort god-figure.) I'm about 90% sure that I have completely lost my mind over math and have no way of getting it back.

Sebastian comforting you after you lose your mind over your math homework

When the fuck did math get letters? Why does math need letters? Why must it make a problem out of everything? Who cares at what degree a certain angle of a roof of a weird art exhibition is. Why should you care at what height a discoball is located if a laser hits it at a certain angle? And who even thinks of such ridiculous problems?

Advanced education? More like an advanced headache. You've sat here at your desk for about three hours, longer than you planned to. You were just trying to do your homework, but nothing was working out. The numbers didn't add up, you don't even know where to start at. It is all too much, too much at once, you just can't handle it anymore.

Throwing away your pencil, you start sobbing over that darned piece of paper. What is this supposed to teach you? Well, nothing that matters to you, of course, yet you're still forced to keep up with algebra and geometry and analysis, totally useless in your daily life. If only these problems were solvable with tears. The only thing they do for you right now is smudge your already hastily written tasks and solutions. Oh, how you hate this. You can only hate this. How could you ever do anything else-?

Your door opens. What now? Who has come to bother you at your lowest point of the day?

"Is everything alright, my dear?", you hear, yet you don't look up. You don't have to do so to know who is there. You'd recognise his gentle voice in a crowded room full of people who don't know how to properly adjust their voice volume. You also want to save yourself from the embarrassment of him seeing your puffy red eyes. So you only mumble something into your arm, something along the lines of "Maybe, I don't know, leave me alone.".

But he didn't. Of course he didn't leave, he never really does what you tell him to. Just like his beloved cats, Sebastian does what he feels like doing at any given point. So if he wants to physically see your tears for his amusement, he will watch them slowly run down your cheeks. You hear how he places something infront of you.

"If everything truly was alright, you'd show me your beautifull face. So, look up for me.". That snarky bastard. You'd hate him for that if you didn't love him more. So you slowly look up to him, eyes all puffy and swollen. "See? I'm fine.". You finally realised he placed a batch of biscuits infront of you, freshly made of course. Sebastian looks down at you with that smirk he always seems to have on his face. "Well, I don't believe you. You're a bad liar, kitten. What is troubling you?". He doesn't even wait for your answer, he just looks down and responds with a little "Ah.". He saw everything he needed to see.

"Is your scholarship too hard on you again? Or is it you being too hard on yourself?", he asked while sitting down next to you. He seemingly tries to make out what you wrote, but it is simply incomprehensible thanks to your tears. "I told you already, it's nothing. Just some stupid problems. As if I would've brought them to class anyway..."

"Frustrated, are we?". "Shut it...", you deliberately look away, yet he pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your head. "Now, no need to cry over silly made up numbers and problems. Rest your head for now.". Sebastian slightly nudges your head onto his chest. Maybe he's right. You should take a little break, just for now.

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

Phew, finally something fresh on my paige. As you can guess, I'm well and alive, more alive than well but alive nonetheless. I'll see how I can get back on track. But until then, I will fulfill the meaning of my name by disappearing suddenly and reappearing again. Like a little ghost.

Until then~

Your Inconsistent Kuroshitsuji Blog~

[javierpena-inatacvest]

She's Alive?!? (Alive may be a stretch LMAO)

HEY FRIENDS, IT'S ME 🥹 (Madeline fills y'all in below the cut)

Safe to say from the absolute radio silence on here for the past month and a half, life has been absolutely kicking me right in the tits. As of today (after telling my principal), I am officially done with teaching at the end of this school year. It's been the strangest feeling ever- while it is such a huge relief to know the tremendous amount of physical and mental stress that teaching has been for me is only 15 days away from coming to an end, it also hurts to think that the thing I once had so much passion and love for has burned out so quickly. I've been having such a hard time coming to terms with the fact that teaching isn't where I want to be anymore, and the teacher guilt in me about it is still eating me alive.

This school year has been so draining for me that the past month I have done the same routine every single day as followed: Wake up, cry going into work, try to make it through the day without having a mental breakdown from kids screaming/ridiculous parent emails/insane requests from the district/one of my kids threatening to bring a gun to school (yes, this did happen, and yes, it's the 3rd grade!!! 🙂), cry on my way home from school, look for jobs and change my resume for the thousandth time and cry again bc no one will hire me, and then go to sleep and do it the next day!! On top of that, I've just been dealing with a lot of other big life things that have taken up so much time/mental energy, I am legit crawling to the finish line that is the last day before summer break.

I will be completely honest with you when I say that I legit have not opened a Google Doc for NTL in a month and a half, and truth be told, I don't know the next time that I will. I truly do miss being on here and all of the wonderful people, and I feel terrible that I have been no where to be found. Thank you to everyone who's sent me a DM or an ask to ask if ya girl is okay, I really appreciate you more than you know 🥺💛

I'm really hoping the summer brings some new peace/inspiration to start writing again, but please know if you don't hear anything from me in the near future, either know 1. I didn't make it out of the school year alive or 2. I am sitting in the sun like a lizard on a hot rock letting all of the stress dissolve from my body until I start to feel like a normal human again 🥴

I love all of you so much, I hope that everything in all of your lives are going well and that I am giving each one of you a big kiss on the forehead and sending you all of my love 🥺💕

ALSO Y'ALL BEST BELIEVE I AM CELEBRATING MY LAST DAY OF SCHOOL WITH A CORONA BC PEDRO WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKK 😩

[jinkoh]

If I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to?

my centerfold

eric x fem!reader

“Is there ever going to be a right time for us?” Eric sounded bitter. He didn’t mean to, but he just didn't know how to hide his feelings about all of this. You tensed up, your fingers almost desperately intertwining themselves with his. “There has to be.”

tags: slow burn, childhood friends to ? to lovers, hurt/comfort, time skips, y/n is 2 yrs older, kinda rlly bad communication but they figure it out, one (1) suggestive scene

warnings: alcohol consumption, implied mental health issues, eric is lowkey not having a good time in this (but things turn out okay!! it will be fine!!)

i tried to stay away from physical descriptions but it does say y/n has smaller hands than eric

wordcount: ~6,7k

a/n: i think i started writing this when hurt me less came out bc it got me in the mood for something angsty and then it somehow turned into a songfic for 'coney island' instead. and ofc it's still angsty bc there is nothing i love more than writing pain :)) anyway i hope you enjoy~

Masterlist

17

Being seventeen sucked. Because seventeen had Eric sitting in his tree house, by himself, picking apart the old bleached out rug. Seventeen had him eating lunch with his friends, except you'd decided not to be a part of them anymore, sitting with Hyunjae and Juyeon instead. Which, to be fair, made sense because they were in the same grade and Eric wasn’t but that hadn’t stopped you before so why did it now?

Seventeen had him going to the arcade, trying over and over to win that silly plastic ring from the claw machine, as if it could fix anything, as if he still had anyone to give it to. Seventeen had him watching you graduate and it was stupid how pretty you looked in that black robe, as you left him and all your shared memories behind. He wanted to take a picture with you, he'd always naturally assumed you would, but you hadn't spoken in weeks and Eric was too much of a coward to start now. So he watched you from afar, radiant smile on your face as you stood with your family that he knew so well it felt like it was his own. And yet he didn't belong there anymore. And yet, you didn’t want him there anymore.

He rode his bike home after the ceremony, mindlessly throwing it onto the lawn before he climbed up the wooden steps to his tree house. He'd spent so much time here with you that sometimes he forgot it was his and not yours. He remembered you sitting on the patchwork of rugs and carpet squares with him, laughing bright as the sun at some silly joke of  his. You're funny, you'd said, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes, and he'd never liked himself more than in that moment, with you giggling about his antics. Eric wondered if maybe you'd changed your mind and the parts of him you'd thought of as funny before had become annoying and childish. He wasn't that much younger but maybe the age difference had become all you could see, Eric just a kid that wouldn't be able to relate to the things ahead of you. He thought about the way you'd looked at him the last time you'd been up here together. There'd been something in your eyes that Eric had interpreted as love, but then your expression had shifted and you'd left and you hadn’t come back since.

Sitting all alone in the tree house, pointlessly overthinking all your possible reasons, he sort of regretted ever taking you up the brittle ladder. This tree house was supposed to be his safe space, but it felt looming and empty now. Where was he supposed to find comfort, if every possible source of comfort that he knew somehow tied back to you? Maybe he'd shared too much with you, given too much of himself, because now that you were leaving, what was there that you wouldn't take with you? What would be left behind with him, of him, once you were gone? He didn’t want to find out but it wasn’t looking like he had much of a choice.

19

Nineteen had Eric on top of the world. He’d surprised everyone by staying in town for college while most of his friends—including his best friend Sunwoo—didn’t, but it’d felt like the right thing to do. Of course, his plans used to be different, but the reason behind those plans, being together with you, had disappeared. Maybe it looked sad or pathetic from the outside, staying behind while everyone was leaving, but it didn’t feel that way to Eric. Because for once this had been a decision he’d made just for himself. And it'd proved to be the right one. Eric loved college, he loved his classes and he wasn’t lonely either. He'd never struggled to make new friends, so he’d found his people right on the first day, clicking with them so easily as if he’d known them forever. He’d met his girlfriend that way too and they’d been going strong for three months now. She was bold and bubbly and the type of person who made life feel good and easy. He liked her. 

He liked her enough not to think about you anymore, except for the brief moments when he did. But even then it didn’t come with the same burst of emotion as it used to. He’d been so heartbroken back then, and then after the heartbreak there'd been this burning anger about the way you’d never told him why you cut him off. But now all that was left was a sense of bittersweet nostalgia.

The nostalgia overcame him again, when he entered the arcade with his friends. None of them came from this town, so they didn't have any memories about this place. It was just an arcade to them, so it would have been weird to decline when they'd asked Eric if he was up for going. And why would he decline either way? Sure, he hadn’t gone to the arcade in a long time, eventually leaving it behind like so many places he'd associated with you. But he was okay now. 

Or maybe he wasn’t, because once inside he naturally found himself in front of the claw machine again. After all this time the silly little plastic ring was still the same, taunting him from the display of prices to be won. He threw in a coin and then another and another.

"What are you trying to win so desperately?" His girlfriend asked with a giggle, as she came up to him from behind. 

"Uh, nothing really."

"Nothing?" She tilted her head.

"It's a little stupid," he admitted, "but I've always wanted to get that ring. I never managed, so I can't help but try when I see it."

"That's cute though. I’m rooting for you," she said, giving him a little peck on the cheek. Eric felt guilty, as if he was keeping a secret from her.

"Will you give it to me, if you do win it?" 

He hesitated for a moment too long before replying. "Of course. But I doubt I will."

She didn’t take much notice of his faltering and just gave him another peck before she disappeared elsewhere to play a racing game.

Eric got a bunch of key charms that day. Until, suddenly, when he popped open another plastic ball, there wasn’t a key charm inside. He stared at the ring with something akin to confusion. He'd tried so often back then and never succeeded, so a part of him had started to believe it wasn’t actually possible. But here it was, right there in his palm, two years late and looking cheaper up close. In the end it was just a piece of plastic, he supposed. He slipped it into his pocket. When his girlfriend asked later, he told her about the key charms and let her choose one of them before dividing the rest among his friends. The ring stayed hidden in his pocket, a secret heavier than the colorful plastic it was made of. 

He turned the ring between his fingers later that night, lying awake with useless thoughts. That day in the arcade, when he’d failed to get the ring for you was when it’d all gone down the drain. You’d hung out at the arcade a lot back then, you and Eric and Sunwoo and Haknyeon and Hyunjae and whoever else had been in the mood. There hadn’t been anything special about that day; you’d joked around like always, teasing him about not winning anything. “Just watch me,” he’d shot back, trying to defend his pride. “Tell me what you want and I’ll win it for you.” “The ring. From the claw machine," you'd replied and to this day Eric didn’t understand why you’d chosen that of all things. He’d agreed though, telling you it was easy; only to get nothing but a bunch of key charms and a necklace. He’d wasted a ton of coins trying to get it for you, even after that day, even after you were no longer speaking. But now that he finally had it, it felt underwhelming. It was tiny, probably meant for children with the way it didn’t even fit his pinky. Then again, your hands were smaller than his. Not that he’d ever gotten to hold them, but he remembered from the way you’d grabbed the front of his T-shirt the very same day. It was stupid that he could still recall such a silly detail. He should be remembering other things instead, like how it’d felt when your lips crashed into his, but the touch had been so brief and so surprising, he had barely registered it had happened at all when you were already pushing him away again. It’d been his first kiss, so he thought he should be remembering it better, but what came to mind was always the moment right before, when you’d looked at him with fondness, and then the moment right after when there’d been terror in your eyes, a look of reproach. As if he’d been the one to cross that line, when really, it was you. You had grabbed his shirt and you had kissed him first. So why was he treated like he'd been the one who’d made the mistake? 

And why was it a mistake anyway? 

17

“This is pretty cute too,” you said when you were sitting in his tree house together, holding up the necklace that was sparkling in the light of the evening sun that came in through the window. “Of course it’s not a ring, but yanno, can’t have it all.”

Everyone had gone home, but you’d naturally gone back with Eric. He hadn’t questioned it because you always did that, treating his home like your own. And it wasn’t like he wanted you to leave.

“If you don’t like it, give it back,” he complained with a pout, trying to snatch the necklace from you, but you quickly held it out of reach.

“Nope, never. You already gave it to me, so it’s mine now.” You turned your back to him, pushing your hair to the side and holding the necklace around your neck for him to close. “Help me put it on?”

There shouldn’t have been anything weird or special about this, but Eric’s hands trembled and it took him three attempts to finally get it right.

“Maybe a necklace is better,” you’d said as you turned back around to him, brushing over the little pendant, cheap metal against the skin between your collarbones. “I’m too young to get married and I’m sure there are other people you’d prefer giving rings to anyway.”

He should have made a silly comment now, agreeing that just the thought of marrying you was grossing him out. But it didn’t. It actually sounded pretty good to him. 

“No,” he mumbled without making eye contact. “I wouldn’t have minded giving it to you.”

You didn’t reply, and it made him realize that he’d probably fucked up. He shouldn’t have said that. He looked up, searching his brain for a stupid joke to lighten up the mood, but when he met your gaze you looked flustered.

“Really?” your voice was quiet.

“Yeah.”

“Win it for me next time then.”

Eric felt his skin tingle at your words, helplessly trying to figure out if you were fucking with him right now or if all of this meant what he thought it did. “Okay,” he pressed out, because what else was he going to say if the girl he liked asked him for a ring?

For a moment you just looked at him, but then you grabbed his shirt, your fingers wrapping around the fabric to pull him in, and Eric in his surprise almost toppled forward. Except he didn’t because then there were your lips on his that stopped him from falling.

The fall only came after, when you dashed out and completely stopped talking to him.

21

Twenty-one wasn't what Eric thought it would be. That feeling of being undefeatable that had empowered him at nineteen seemed to be completely used up now. Instead  the teenage angst had come back with full force, making him feel more miserable and anxious than ever. Of course he wasn’t actually a teenager anymore, but calling it teenage angst was less frightening than calling it depression and it wasn't like he was seeing anyone about it anyway. As long as he didn’t have a diagnosis he didn’t have an actual problem. It was just a little losing streak, but he'd be back on his game in a bit. He just had a lot to deal with right now, like how college was harder than it'd felt at the beginning. Or how his girlfriend had broken up with him a few months ago and he hadn’t dated since. It was fine though, it was better that way. She deserved better. After all, even now he wasn’t sure if he missed her or if he just missed being with someone. But simply knowing it'd been the right choice didn't take away that looming feeling of loneliness in his bones. 

Of course he had friends that cared about him, but they were her friends too and even though they'd separated amicably, he felt awkward and detached. He didn’t know how to open up to them anymore, or maybe he'd never really opened up to them from the start. More often than not he wished that he'd gone to the same college as Sunwoo after all. Surely, he'd be feeling better then. Because despite his teasing and feigned annoyance, Sunwoo was his best friend and the person he relied on the most. Except that felt so much harder to do with distance between them and Eric couldn’t shake off the fear of becoming a burden if he told Sunwoo just how miserable he was feeling. So, he was somehow dealing with it by himself, mostly relying on the hope that it would eventually pass and that maybe he would wake up some day and feel okay again.

Today wasn’t the day though, he realized as he stood at the grocery store without his shopping list and only fragmentary memories of what he’d been meaning to buy. He was ruffling his hair in frustration in the dairy section, trying to remember if milk was needed or not, when he suddenly got pulled out of his thoughts.

“Eric, right?”

When he turned around he found Hyunjae standing in front of him, four years older than the last time he’d seen him and yet unmistakably the same. 

“It’s Hyunjae,” he unnecessarily explained with a bright smile when Eric didn’t respond immediately.

“Yeah, of course, I remember.” Eric tried to return his smile, but he felt too conscious of himself, too uncomfortable in his own skin and the hoodie that he hadn’t washed in too long.

“Are you also back for spring break?”

There was no reason to feel embarrassed about it, but somehow Eric felt small when he admitted that he had never left town. He'd never felt ashamed of that a year or two ago. 

“Really?” Hyunjae looked surprised, but there was no judgment there at all. “I always thought you’d go to the same school as y/n. The two of you were attached at the hip back then.” He chuckled. “But I guess you had your own plans. Good for you though! Hope life’s been treating you well?”

“Oh, totally,” Eric lied with a smile. “It’s going great. What about you?”

“Yeah, same, but I’m glad it’s spring break now. I’m actually buying some stuff for the weekend,” he nodded towards his cart, loaded with beer and liquor and meat. “Throwing a party since a lot of the guys from school are back right now—,” he interrupted himself for a second. “Actually, you should come. If you’re free on Friday."

“Sure,” Eric nodded, “I’ll stop by if I find the time.” There was no reason to think he wouldn’t, there were no other plans to speak of, but he wanted to keep himself the option of showing up.

“Nice,” Hyunjae grinned. He seemed genuinely pleased about the prospect of Eric coming, but maybe that had more to do with Hyunjae being a nice, sociable guy, rather than how he felt about Eric specifically. Still, it was nice to be invited somewhere. 

“I’ll see you on Friday then,” he added, lightly patting Eric on the back before getting back to his cart.

“Yeah,” Eric gave him a small wave. “See you then.”

Eric was convinced he wouldn’t go to the party. He still thought so until Friday evening, when he was chilling on the couch fumbling with a rubix cube and came to the depressing realization that he hadn’t done anything all week and wasn’t going to do anything on the weekend either.  The thought of that made him feel miserable and like a stranger to himself. He wasn’t the type of person to stay at home by himself all week, letting spring break pass by without any memories to speak of. He had to think of Hyunjae’s invitation then and he decided to go. After all, if he wanted things to be different, he’d have to do something about it. And he liked going to parties, didn’t he? Maybe he hadn’t been to one in a while but he assumed it was like riding a bicycle, surely he’d be back in his element once he arrived. So, he slipped on some fresh clothes, did his hair, and made his way over to Hyunjae’s, fashionably late of course.

Rather than ringing the bell, he headed straight for the garden, where he heard the sound of music and laughter. The party was in full swing already, the atmosphere light and happy, making it easy to blend in and make small talk here and there. Eric didn’t remember everyone’s names, but he did recognize a bunch of faces and it seemed like almost everyone remembered him to some extent. It was a nice feeling to know he’d left enough of an impression on all these people from school for them to still have positive memories about him. Of course, none of the conversations he had were all that deep and meaningful, but after distancing himself from people for weeks now and constantly worrying about being a burden to those around him, it was a relief to see that people did seem to like having him around. 

He was starting to loosen up, feeling lighter and happier than he’d been in weeks. Surely the alcohol was doing its part too, but Eric was convinced it was more than that. The evening felt like a turning point, like the kick of motivation he’d needed to work on getting better again. Maybe he was being a little delusional.

Just when he was about to open another bottle of beer, a voice made him stop in his tracks.

“Eric?”

You hadn’t even been all that loud, but he felt like the noise of the party—the music, the chatter, the laughter—all of it had suddenly diminished to a faint background noise at the call of your voice. 

He hadn’t heard it in years, but there was no doubt in his mind it was yours. The time apart could never erase all the time spent together, your voice ingrained in his memory like a melody from his youth. 

Eric didn’t turn around immediately. Instead he resumed opening the bottle first, using the brief moment to try and collect himself. It wasn’t really working. He hadn’t expected to meet you here. In hindsight that’d been pretty stupid, but hindsight wasn’t really helping him now.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat before finally turning around to face you. “Y/n.” He didn’t know what face he was making. Was he smiling? He wanted to smile.

“It’s been a while.” You were smiling. It was a little timid, as if you weren’t sure if Eric would want you to talk to him, but it was a smile nevertheless. He was glad somehow, that there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings on your side. A part of him had always feared that you’d come to hate him.

“Yeah.”

“Do you maybe—,” you were fumbling with the pendant of your necklace. It looked expensive, or at least more expensive than the one he’d gotten you from the arcade. He pointlessly wondered if you still had it. “Do you wanna go for a walk? Or something?”

“Sure.” It was an automatic response that came out before he had the chance to consider if he actually wanted to. But when you both set foot onto the pavement and slowly distanced yourselves from Hyunjaes house, Eric thought that he did want to.

It was quiet for a bit so Eric said “Hyunjae invited me,” both to fill the silence and because he thought you could be confused about his attendance at the party.

“Yeah, he told me.”

Somehow Eric felt weird about that. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that the two of them had talked about him, or the fact that they’d talked at all. “Are you still close?” It was a stupid question. Eric could already guess the answer and he didn’t actually want to hear it. A very uncalled for jealousy crept up in his stomach.

“Yes. I mean, not to that extent—we’re not living in the same city—but we’ve kept in touch.”

“That’s nice,” Eric replied and he wanted to mean it but all he could think was ‘why didn’t you keep in touch with me?’

You turned a corner, entering a playground that was deserted at this hour and Eric followed along, taking the other one when you sat down on one of the swings. He watched as you slowly swayed back and forth, your gaze fixed onto your feet that never left the sand.

“I know it’s late,” you eventually started without looking up, “but I always wanted to apologize.”

It felt weird to hear you apologize. Maybe because in his head Eric has assumed you had moved on from everything quickly, starting your new life in a new place and forgetting all about the boy you’d left behind. It’d made sense to him, because while he’d never gotten the luxury of actual closure, always stuck wondering what he’d done wrong for things to go the way they did, you had known. There were no open ends to take care of, not for you. Or so he’d made himself believe, but here you were, apologizing because apparently you too hadn’t just forgotten everything.

“I was a dick back then,” you added and Eric found himself agreeing. “Yeah.” He thought he saw you flinch at his honesty. 

“I’m sorry. I really am. I know it’s not an excuse but I just—I was really scared back then.”

“Scared of what?”

“Everything. Graduation. Change. It all felt so scary to me. And I know it’s scary to everyone, I get that, but back then I felt like I was the only one struggling. Everyone around me seemed all happy and excited and I just felt so scared.”

“I could have been there for you.”  

“I know. I knew. But maybe you were one of the reasons I was so scared and I didn’t know how to tell you that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eric turned to you with a frown, but you didn’t look up.

“I was just so scared of losing you.”

“We would have been fine even with the distance. You wouldn’t have lost me.”

“Maybe not.”

“Definitely not,” he insisted.

You stopped swinging, your heels digging into the sand. “It wasn’t just the distance—I mean, of course I was scared of being apart. But at the time even being together felt like I was going to lose you. I just felt different, and I knew I was ruining our friendship but I didn’t know how not to. Or, I don’t know—maybe I thought boycotting things myself would be easier to stomach. It was a mistake, I know that now, but I was stupid back then.” 

Eric knew how hard it was for you to tell him all this, he heard it in the way your voice trembled and he saw it in the way your hands clung onto the chains of the swing like your life depended on them. But hearing it wasn’t easy either. You were confirming what he’d somehow already known: kissing him was a mistake to you. It’d been something to boycott your friendship without any deeper meaning, and that stung because it had meant so much to him. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” you continued when Eric didn’t say anything, “but I at least wanted to say sorry. I was an idiot.”

A moment went by in silence, and then another. There was nothing aside from the wind rustling in the trees and the slight squeaking of the swings’ hinges. Eric felt tears welling up in his eyes and that sucked because he’d so badly wanted to be okay when he saw you again; he’d wanted to be over it, but now that you were here it all came back to him. He looked up to the dark sky, trying to blink away the tears. It was pathetic that he was crying like this, still hung up on his first love after four years.

“Did you ever actually—,” He started but then interrupted himself. —like me?, was what he wanted to ask but he couldn’t get the words out. It seemed you understood him anyway.

“I did. I liked you, Eric. I know I didn’t act like it, but I really liked you.”

He turned to meet your gaze and he was surprised to see tears in your eyes too. You seemed earnest. “But did you like me like that?” His voice was hoarse and quiet and barely came out at all, but he needed to ask, he needed to finally know. 

You looked confused, as if you’d already given all the answers Eric was looking for and he was just too stupid to see. And maybe he was, maybe you’d already said it all, but he had to make sure. 

“That’s what scared me so much, Eric,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to destroy our friendship with my silly feelings, but at the same time I wanted—”

“They weren’t silly. If your feelings were silly then mine were silly too.”

Your breathing hitched. “What do you mean?”

“I liked you too,” he admitted because there wasn’t a reason not to, “I always, always liked you.”

With a long sigh you pushed yourself up from the swing, taking a few steps ahead, maybe just to do something. “I really fucked things up, huh?” You turned to look at him, as if you wanted to ask more, but it took you another two turns and a few more uneasy steps to gather the courage. “What about now? Do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” Eric got up too, reaching out for your hand to stop your pacing. Your fingers felt cold, maybe from the iron chains of the swings, and he wished he could put them in his pocket to warm them up. “I never once hated you.”

When you looked up now, eyes almost a little teary, he realized how close you were. If he just leaned in a little he could have kissed you. He didn’t get to though, because you leaned in first, your lips brushing his in a careful, feather light touch before you pulled away again, a question in your eyes. His gaze followed your lips, chasing the kiss, and that was enough for you to lean in again. This time I need to remember, he thought to himself as he reached up to cup your jaw and pull you in. This time I have to remember every little thing about it. 

Having you back in his room after all this time felt strange and having you in his bed felt even stranger. Eric remembered the days spent sitting on his race car sheets that he would have been too embarrassed to show anyone else, but it was fine if it was you, because you wouldn’t tell anyone. He remembered the laughing and the play fighting and all the dreams and plans you’d talked about while staring at his ceiling with the little sky of glow-in-the-dark stars looking back at you. The stars weren’t there anymore, nor were the race cars. But most importantly, rather than sitting next to him, you were straddling his hips, your eyes dark and beautiful in the halflight of the room. You leaned down to kiss him and your hair felt ticklish where it brushed his skin. It was a slow and sweet kiss, your fingers gently carding through his locks. But you steadily became more greedy, slipping your tongue into his mouth as you drew him in. He didn’t mind at all, feeling that same sense of hunger burning under his skin. When you ground your hips into him, he let out a groan, muffled only by your lips on his own. Almost automatically he grabbed onto your waist, pulling your body even closer to his own because it never felt close enough. He broke away from your lips, his mouth moving to your neck instead, leaving a trail of bites and kisses in its wake. You tilted your head to give him more access as you continuously rolled your hips into his, chasing that sweet sweet friction. His hands slipped beneath your shirt and he loved the feeling of your warm skin right beneath his fingertips as he explored your body. When his hands traveled down to the waistband of your jeans, tugging at the fabric in a question, he felt you jolt in his lap, stopping your movements as if you’d woken up from a trance.

“Wait,” you whispered with a breathy voice, your hand coming to rest on his.

“You don’t want to?” He asked, searching your eyes for answers. Of course he wanted to, but it wasn’t like he’d be upset if you didn’t. Anything was fine with him, really, as long as you didn’t disappear from his side again.

“It’s not that.” You took a deep breath and Eric immediately felt a sense of dread bubble up in his stomach. 

“But?”

“Eric, I’m flying back in three days.”

His grip on you instinctively tightened, as if that could somehow make you stay. Of course he’d somehow known that you would have to go back to your life that very clearly wasn’t taking place in this town, or room, or bed. But he’d chosen to ignore that knowledge, pushing it to the far back of his mind because he didn’t want to think about it. What use was there thinking about it anyway? He couldn’t change it.

“Yeah,” he whispered, letting his head drop onto your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.. “But can’t we have this? At least for now?”

“If we indulge ourselves now, won’t it hurt more to part ways?”

“I don’t know. I think it hurt plenty last time.” He didn’t want to sound bitter or like he was holding a grudge, because he wasn’t. But it almost seemed like history was repeating itself. Why did you always kiss and run? What was it about him that you didn’t want to stay?

He felt your arms coming around his back, your hands drawing slow patterns. “You’re right, it hurt plenty,” you admitted and your voice seemed to tremble, “I just don’t know what to do. It’s like we’ll always get hurt, no matter which route we take.”

Eric raised his head to look at you and he felt his heart ache when he saw tears running down your cheeks. “Maybe. But if we get hurt anyway, shouldn’t we at least make the most of being together now?” 

“Okay,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his.

He smiled, reaching up to wipe away your tears. “Okay,” he repeated. And then you kissed, again and again, until the sweet comfort of your touch drowned out the heartache that was haunting both of you.

For two days, you lived in your own little world, shut away from the reality that waited outside of Eric’s room and just indulging in the way it felt to be together. Of course you both knew it wasn’t going to last, it was a mock reality, a simulation of what could be under different circumstances. But Eric had given that enough thought already. At least for a bit he didn’t want to worry about that and just get a taste of that happiness, even if he had to return it eventually. You seemed to feel the same or at least that’s what Eric wanted to believe when you let him snuggle closer in the morning, giggling at the way he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath ticklish on your bare skin. He smiled to himself, his chest brimming with happiness as he mindlessly started playing with your hand. You had pretty hands, he thought. He traced your fingers, one by one until he reached your ring finger. His delusional mind wondered, what it’d look like if you wore a ring. Preferably one that he’d gotten for you. Which reminded him—he did get one for you. It was way late, but it was neatly sitting in his nightstand.

“Y/n,” he started in a soft voice because the morning was too quiet to speak any louder, “Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring back then.” 

“You still remember that?”

“Of course I do. You know, I sometimes thought maybe things would have been different if I had won that ring for you.” It was supposed to be an introduction, leading up to the big reveal that he’d finally gotten that ring. That was romantic wasn’t it? But when he was about to sit up to reach for the drawer of his nightstand, you shot him down with your words.

“We would have gone down in flames either way. A plastic ring couldn’t have made a difference.”

“Right,” he whispered and his voice sounded choked up.

“Eric—”

“No, you’re right. It’s just a stupid ring. Who would be hung up on it all this time?” Who, aside from him, of course.

“It’s not that, Eric. It wasn’t stupid—but what I’m trying to say is it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong and it wasn’t because you didn’t win the ring for me. It just wasn’t the right time for us.”

“Is there ever going to be a right time for us?” Eric sounded bitter. He didn’t mean to, but he just didn't know how to hide his feelings about all of this. You tensed up, your fingers almost desperately intertwining themselves with his.

“There has to be,” you whispered and he heard the tears in your voice. He squeezed your hand, a silent comfort because he didn’t know what else to do or say. Nothing could stop you from leaving tomorrow. Nothing could change the circumstances you found yourselves in. 

You’d told him that he didn’t have to drive you to the airport, but he’d insisted. If he already couldn’t keep you he at least wanted to be with you for as long as possible. You arrived early, so you sat in one of the waiting areas for a bit, hands intertwined and a heavy silence hanging above you. It was hard to make conversation, because everything either of you could possibly say seemed so meaningless in the face of having to part. When it was finally time for you to head to the gate, Eric accompanied you as far as he could. You hugged for an eternity before reluctantly pulling away and it still seemed to be too short. Both of you had been crying on and off ever since you’d arrived at the airport, and there shouldn’t be any tears left at this point, but somehow there still were new ones coming anyway.

“I should really go now.”

“Yeah,” Eric nodded, but his fingers still held onto yours for a second longer, the thought of letting go painful, “I know.”

“It will be okay,” you whispered as you turned to leave and Eric wondered if you were telling him or yourself, “there will be a time for us.”

What bullshit, he thought to himself, watching you walk off. Why should you have to wait for a right time, after you’d already waited so long? The small plastic ball that he’d taken out of his nightstand and slipped into his pocket for god knows what reason felt impossibly heavy. He didn’t want to wait anymore.

“There won’t be,” he blurted out without thinking, “There won’t be a right time.”

You halted in your movements, slowly turning back around looking utterly heartbroken. “But can’t we hope?”

With a few steps he closed the distance between you again. “There will never be a right time for us. Because there is no such thing. Aren’t we the ones who should decide what time is right? I am tired of all this uncertainty. I don’t want to see you go without knowing if we’ll talk again. I know it isn’t easy to make things work long distance, but shouldn’t we at least try? Didn’t we spend enough time with regrets?”

“But how—how could I possibly ask that of you? After everything I’ve done, shouldn’t I make things easy for you now? How can I ask you to try something that seems to be doomed to fall apart?”

“Then what if I’m the one who’s asking you?” He pulled out the plastic capsule from his pocket, holding it out to you with shaking hands. “What if I’m the one who’s asking to try?”

You stared at it for a moment, clearly flabbergasted. “Is that—?”

“Yeah,” he opened it to show you the tiny little arcade ring, and it made a new wave of tears roll down your cheeks. 

“You got it? For me?”

“A while ago. I know you said it wouldn’t change anything, it’s just plastic after all but—”

“You really went back to win it for me?” You were straight up sobbing now, but there was a smile in your eyes.

“Well, I said I would.”

“I love it,” you pressed out through tears, “I love you.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled back, trying his best and failing not to cry too. He’d wondered many times if he should just throw the ring away and move on. And maybe he should have, but right now, at this moment, he was glad he didn’t. “I love you too.”

23

Twenty-three was fine, he supposed. And for the most part it was. He felt too young to be finishing college and there was all that fear about what was to come after; the prospect of job interviews scary, the prospect of maybe not even getting invited infinitely scarier. But it wasn’t as frightening as it could have been, maybe because he'd been seeing a therapist for a while now. Or maybe because he wasn’t feeling so alone now. Despite not living in the same town anymore he had a lot of contact with his friends these days, both from college and high school. Actually Sunwoo had even come over to help with his move. Your move, to be more precise. You’d moved in together just a few weeks ago, after his classes had ended for good. It was a cozy little flat close to your workplace that you'd picked together, and Eric had never loved coming home more than he did now. There was nothing better than knowing you’d be there and even at the times you weren’t, he still found you in every inch of your shared apartment, from the potted plant in the kitchen that you insisted wasn’t dead yet, to your forgotten sock between the sofa cushions.

You also actually wore that tiny little arcade ring (on your pinky, because it didn't fit anywhere else). He’d told you a zillion times you didn’t have to wear it, but it gave him butterflies that you did. He promised himself that once he’d found a job he would save up for a proper ring, one that you wouldn’t have to wear on your pinky. The thought made him giddy and excited for the future, overshadowing all the scary parts. Yeah, twenty-three was definitely fine.

Masterlist

[kit4strophe]

I have absolutely no clue what to call this but I was urged to write it, so take some very slight Grayson angst (bc i hate hurting him).

enjoy lovebugs!! <3

I roll my neck. God, two nights in a row. I must be sleeping terribly wrong, I think to myself.

Stretching my arms over my head, I look across the bed to find the left side empty. I grab my phone from the table beside the bed.

5:30 AM.

I groan as I widen my eyes to keep them open. Time to play find the Hawthorne again.

I make my way down the halls, my slippers keeping my steps quiet. I’m almost downstairs when I pass Oren.

“Why are you up so early?” I mumble, my voice not ready to be used yet.

“I could ask you the same thing.” His voice has clearly already been in use.

I yawn. “Finding the second eldest, you?”

He nods. “Finding the second youngest.”

Crossing my arms, I snort. “Oh good luck with that one.”

Oren gives me an empty look. “I appreciate the confidence.”

I shrug and continue my descent down the stairs. “You’ve got the worst end of the deal here, Oren.” I say over my shoulder.

He lets out a scoff and mumbles a “Yeah” as we go our separate ways.

I end up in front of the sliding glass doors that go outside. Squinting, I can see a figure in the pool, the sun rising behind them. My heart drops. I slide the door open and make my way over to the pool.

Grayson is swimming from deep to shallow end and back again. I cross my arms as I watch him move like a fish in the water. Eventually, he finally stops and I can see his shoulders move up and down as he breathes hard.

“Grayson.” My voice does little to spook him as he turns slowly.

“It’s considered impolite to stare.” His voice is weaker than usual, the swimming taking an obvious toll on his breathing.

“It’s considered impolite to leave someone in bed alone too, if we want to go down that road.”

His eyes find mine and I falter. The look of an old, raw pain swims in his gaze.

“Gray.” I breathe.

He turns away from me. I kick off my slippers and move to sit at the poolside. My sleep shorts allow me to put my legs in the heated water.

“Come here.”

He keeps his back to me.

“Please?”

His shoulders sink as he sighs, turning to swim towards me. He comes above water again and slicks his wet hair back. I open my legs a bit, giving him room to stand between them. My hands find his cheeks.

“What’s going on in this head of yours?” I stroke my thumbs along his cheekbones.

He shuts his eyes and I can feel him lean into my touch slightly. “Too much.” He murmurs.

Frowning, I tilt his head up towards me. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He opens his eyes and searches my face, as if he doesn’t really believe that I care.

My eyes soften. “Grayson, you can talk about whatever you’d like with me. I’m always here to listen.”

An emotion that I can’t place washes over him as he clears his throat. “There’s a lot going on and I’m handling it.”

My brow furrows. “Not very well, it seems.”

He rears back as if I’ve wounded him. “Excuse me?” He challenges.

“You may be handling the physical problems but you’re ignoring the mental problems.” I lean my head to the right, examining him.

Dark circles lay under his tired eyes. He looks away from me but I pull his head back so that he’s forced to look me in the eyes.

“You can’t keep everything to yourself, Grayson. It’s not healthy and no one, not even you, can hold all that in.”

He frowns. “I’ve done this for years and I turned out just fine.”

My face falls and I give him a blank stare. “Really? We’re doing this, now?” He blinks back at me so I nod, deciding to play.

“Jameson must’ve been handling things really well, getting drunk every night for months. Oh and Nash, breaking off his engagement to Alisa like that? He definitely handled everything just right.” Sarcasm bleeds through my words.

“I’m not my brothers,” Grayson counters.

“Oh you are absolutely right, I’m so sorry. You staying up late at the foundation most nights and going out to swim at the crack of dawn every morning when we first met was you handling things perfectly.” I throw my arms in the air.

Grayson rolls his eyes. “That’s enough.”

“How can I forget when you went deep into the maze to use your sword every chance you had? Practicing until you were dripping sweat. Again. And again. And again. Over and over.” I stare deep into his eyes.

“I said, enough.” His tone is harsher, clearly affected by my words.

I shrug. “I’m just listing where you’re handling things so well, Grayson. I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

Grayson shuts his eyes and drops his forehead against my stomach. “I know. I can’t just stop. I have to keep going.”

I wrap my arms around his head, my right hand rubbing his upper back. “You can stop, Gray. You have to take breaks, it’ll kill you if you keep going like this.”

He sighs against my shirt, turning his head so he can speak clearly. “I know.”

The corners of my mouth turn down and I drag my fingernails up and down his back lightly.

He shakes his head against me.

“I know.” He repeats.

[crazybiaatch]

Silco and Jinx were never weird

I saw yet another tik tok calling Silco a pdf file for his interactions with Jinx, so I need to rant and defend my favourite mentally ill daddy/daughter duo, so spoilers ahead

END OF ACT 1

At the end of act 1 we see Silco and Powder in very similar postions. They have both just lost a sibling in the worst ways imaginable (to them, at the time). They obviously feel very differently about these losses, it was always in Silco's plans for Vander to die, but all the emotions from when Vander turned his back on their dreams had resurfaced while he was talking to Vander, whereas Powder had just tried to prove herself to her big sister and instead of being proud, Vi was angry, and told her that Milo was right, that she was a Jinx. So, when Silco accepts Powder's hug and even reciprocates, it does make some sort of sense. Not to us, and not to the people around them, but Powder and Silco are feeling very similar emotions, anger, confusion, betrayal, ect. Silco sees these emotions in Powder, and takes her in. We don't get to see much of their relationship here since this is the very beginning of the relationship, but I felt like pointing out the basis of their bond was important.

ACT 2

This is where some people start thinking their relationship is more sexual than it is. This is because of how touchy they are with each other. I'm talking about the scene where Jinx sits on Silco's lap.

Now, two points to get out of the way. 1, plenty of people show physical affection to their fathers this way and similarly, there is nothing wrong with this as long as it never crosses boundaries, and I cannot and will not speak on actual relationships I have no knowledge of, everything I am about to say is within the context of this fictional relationship within this fictional world. 2, Jinx is both Silco's adopted daughter (no blood relation, both of her blood parents are dead) and around 18-19 years old during acts 2 and 3, she is also severely mentally ill. Not in a silly, joking way, she at least has paranoid schizophrenia.

Silco and Jinx's relationship is not a normal father/daughter relationship. It literally never could be. Silco has been extremely traumatised by what happened with Vander and Jinx has devolped severe mental health issues while in Silco's care, while also being traumatised by what happened with Vi. So, instead of the breakdown I did above, I'm just going to point out things to contextualise how touchy Jinx an Silco are to each other, and I'm just going to go as chronologically as I can (I've rewatched this show 3 times, and I am rewatching all Silco and Jinx interactions as I write this)

1x04:

Silco defends Jinx, in the conversation with Sevika after the Firelights fight. Sevika was 100% right, and a cold-hearted leader like Silco would usually agree with what she was saying and punish Jinx accordingly. Instead, he tells Sevika to "not dissapoint him" (do better) and sends her away, before asking for Jinx's side of the story. Not to sound like I have daddy issues, but my dad woudn't even do that for me. (quick little aside bc its on my screen right now - that monkey thing on Silco's desk? Adorable, anyone who claims to not know that Silco was Jinx's dad is clearly not paying enough attention)

Now, the infamous moment. Silco hands his eye-needle-thing to Jinx, and she moves to sit on his lap and wraps a hand around his neck as he leans back (pictures below).

These pictures show just how physically close they are (literally touching) and yes, I can see how this looks weird, trust me, I've seen the fanart (i wish i didn't) BUT that doesn't mean I think that reading is right! For starters, physical closeness doesn't immediately mean sexual or even romantic tension, if this was true, that would ALSO mean that Vi and Jinx have a weird relationship (pictures below)

Woah! Look! Physical closeness! They're even closer than Jinx and Silco! So, it's not the closeness that makes it weird. Maybe it's the actual actions! Vi is just hugging Jinx, whereas Jinx is sitting half on top of Silco. To inject 'medicine' into his eye. I would like to see you do something like that standing away from someone. The two times we see Silco get his injections, Jinx has to lean over him to get it done correctly, and when she rushes it the second time, it hurts him. (another thing this scene is showing us is how much Silco trusts Jinx, who would you let stab you in the eye? Probably someone you consider family, right?) But okay, it could be the dialogue that's got tension right? They're talking about Vi. And then they're talking about Zaun. And then Silco gets stabbed. And then Jinx goes straight back to sitting away from him. They only touch for a matter of SECONDS (about 10ish seconds, give or take since we don't actually see when Jinx moves away again) though in word it could be longer because of the glitch effect we get when Jinx talks about Vi, but it's not like Jinx was sat on Silco's lap for half an hour. She only moved to touch him a) when he asked (by offering the needle) and b) to help him, and moved away as soon as she was finished helping him. The rest of the interaction could either be read as fatherly or condescending, both are true enough ("Take some time" "I don't need it" "Take it anyhow") so this interaction? No tension. None. If you do see sexual tension, you are reaching. All I see is a father/boss trying to comfort his daughter, and then moving on to reprimanding her for her mistakes and essentially grounding her.

Their next interaction, after the bombing. Silco storms in and starts yelling at Jinx until she gives him the hextech crystal and hugs him. I wouldn't even call this interaction very 'fatherly' since Silco barely even hugs Jinx back and just stares at the crystal. This is more Silco the Boss than Silco the Dad. I guess you could say the way Jinx walked before hugging him was a little flirtatious? But that's pretty much how she always moves. I don't have much to say about this one, it's fairly straightforward, at least to me.

1x05

Silco defends Jinx, yet again, this time from Marcus who is trying to demand Jinx getting arrested. Silco is tense and turns down Marcus's idea immeadtly.

Not much happens, they're seperate for the rest of the episode until...

"You're the only one I can trust with this, Jinx."

This honestly is my main point. Jinx is one of three people Silco trusts. (the other two are Sevika and the Doctor, and he moreso trusts that they will listen to him, and he doesn't trust them anywhere as much as he trusts Jinx) Jinx is the one that is trusted with his medicine, and through the show, no one else really touches Silco. What I'm saying is, the man was drowned by his brother and hates the idea of other people touching him, except for Jinx. He obviously sees her as family of some kind, his every action and word screams it. (tiny aside, the look on his face at the end of that scene? my heart shattered. No one could make me hate him after that, he looked so scared and heartbroken.)

The next weird scene also happens this episode. The lake scene, or as I call it, the baptising scene. Silco dips Jinx below the water of the lake he was nearly drowned in, and to do that he holds her hand and holds the back of her head, and leans with her to dip her under water. They get very very close, and without the previous context I could 100% see how people would think this scene is romantic. But with the context of both their relationship and the actual action he's doing? He's baptising his daughter. (pictures below)

I'm not sure if any of you guys have seen an adult baptism, but I have thanks to my religion class, and let me tell you, those priests get REAL close. Not to mention, this is the same lake he nearly died in. Of course he's going to want to be close to make sure she's alright. He doesn't get any closer, the only reason they're that close is because its when Silco is starting to tip her backwards, but while Jinx is still holding herself upright.

(honourable mention moment - Silco in the last scene of this ep is amazing and I commend the animators for being able to show his emotions so clearly.)

1x06

This first scene with Jinx doesn't add anything to the relationship with Silco BUT it does contextualise how touchy she is. She hugs this random guy. Sure, it's to plant a glitter bomb to his back and scare him, but still, she doesn't even know his name. Same with the Sevika scene, she's practically on top of Sevika, and then once Sevika tells her about Vi, she pulls Sevika so close that I just know they could smell each other's breaths. Their foreheads are literally touching.

So much happens this episode thanks to Silco and Jinx both finding out about Vi, but there are 2 things I want to note, 1, Silco praises Jinx to Vi, just. I wish MY dad did that. 2, this is the big shift away from Powder (Vi) to Jinx (Silco).

ACT 3

1x07

(sorry just - the ash tray covered in crayons? I did that to my parents ash tray once)

This is where the show stops going for subtext. Sevika compares her relationship with her dad to Jinx and Silco. THAT IS TEXT.

Anyways, the next big scene. The second injection.

"We are family."

I saw someone seriously try to say they never thought Silco and Jinx were family. Did you just, not watch the show? "Oh she's sitting on his lap again." Yeah she's also stabbed him in the face twice and in the neck once. Does that scream sexual tension to you?

1x08

Okay, so, Silco kisses Jinx this episode. On the forehead, while she's on her deathbed. He kissed her the same way I kiss my nephew goodnight. I cannot stress enough, I am a Jegulus shipper and even I am not seeing romantic or sexual tension and he actually just kissed her.

"I, too, once had a daughter" again. A character comparing their father/daughter relationship to Silco and Jinx.

1x09

(quick note - the way Silco acts when Renni's son dies is iconic)

Circling back to the trust thing, he is literally putting his life in Sevika's hands, she can chose to be loyal to him or to join Finn, and he knows that the choice is hers. Look at how he acts after she swings her sword. He is hyperventilating. He sat still and patient while Jinx literally stabbed him with that needle thing, but when Sevika had the choice between a gutsy kid or her longtime boss he feared for his life. Sure, he pulls himself together, but that was pure PANIC

Anyways, big moment here.

"You're my daughter." Silco to Jinx, moments before disaster. If you manage to watch that and still look back and think "The writers were trying to communicate that there was a sexual relationship between them." you are a child left behind.

To sum my points up + stuff that doesn't really have a nice spot to put it:

Silco and Jinx are the only people they truly trust. Silco hates being touched and Jinx is a very tactile person, she is also consistently the only person that touches Silco.

This relationship isn't normal or healthy, it's co-dependent asf but it's also 100% platonic and never once moves towards sexual or romantic

This is dedicated to the people that think their relationship is gross, not to the shippers. The shippers are already too far gone.

Watching the whole show through only Jinx and/or Silco scenes is still cohesive and you don't see Jayce until the very end, 10/10 for the writers

[neopuppy]

i follow both your nct and enha blogs, so i saw your reply to an ask on your enha blog which also mentioned renjun and it felt wrong messaging you abt him there so i will just message you abt him here haha. hope you don’t mind!!!

have you seen renjun’s message on bbl where he exposed a sasaeng’s twt account? that was bravery right there. i hope that’ll serve as an example to idols and warning to crazy fans

I was going THROUGH it last night bc of this jcjejcjdjd I genuinely dont know if I’d be as concerned if it was anyone other than Renjun only given the circumstances(SM ent. and their long history of torturing idols- plus what was also happening with cbx/exo yesterday)

going to say this as someone who is on my 3rd SM group that I’m watching fall apart in real time once again, this is likely Dreams last run(the irony) as a properly promoted group. the only reason they even still get so much is because they are huge in Asia and have always been(PROBABLY BC SM HAS NEVER ONCE TRIED TO BREAK THEM INTO THE WESTERN MARKET THE WAY THEY DID WITH 127 BUT THATS BC 127 WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR US FANS- we know how that went). its so hard to watch your favs literally cry for help and you cant do anything when its their own company working against them.

sasaengs are kept alive by INTERNAL staff that have access to information such as private schedule locations, hotels, flights, etc. why else would the SAME people always conveniently ‘show up’ to unannounced events that were never for ‘fans’ to begin with?

Renjun is one of the handful of actual talented idols we have in the age of 2024 where all kpop idols need to do is buy an entirely new face to debut and be deemed “it boy/girl”, makes me sick to my stomach that he cant do his job peacefully bc of people who relentlessly stalk him, purposely sit by him on planes, call his phone day and night.

I’m fr just a normal person, not famous just living my life and my anxiety is BAD. way worse when I was younger and would have physical panic attacks to the point of throwing up. I got help(therapy, meds, etc) fortunately and learned how to calm my anxiety but I always think abt how idols have to deal with this especially when I’m at the airport. like INTL travel is so fucking stressful and taxing on the body, I cannot imagine camera shooting at me the second I step off a 16 hr flight where weird ass ssngs followed me to the bathroom and took pictures of me SLEEPING the entire time! only to run after me in mobs after going through customs.

like idfk why anyone would defend this animalistic behavior. if an idol feels desperate enough to share their mental health issues with us as fans- coming from a place and industry where this is very stigmatized- WE NEED TO LISTEN, AS FANS WHO RESPECT AND TRUST HIM. I wish I could do something, but I cant, and I would beat up every ssng to exists if it held no repercussion bc famous or not these are HUMAN BEINGS, and they dont deserve this.

I really worry given the kpop track record of idols choosing their exit instead of finding help. I am so proud of Renjun for putting himself first and taking this time off to heal himself. like there is just so many things and I am worried abt all of Dream, they debuted so young and have some of the worst ssngs out of all of kpop with a company who wont lift a finger to protect them. in this case they truly only have us(the actual fans)and Renjun going public with this proves that.

I hope anyone who has invaded their privacy feels ashamed, and this goes for ‘fans’ that follow them around the world/are constantly in fan calls/fan signs etc- you are weird. period. nothing normal about that one-sided parasocial relationship that you brag abt online, and instead of spending $1000’s upon $1000’s on bothering an idol who will never fuck you, maybe consider investing in a much needed grippy sock vacation.

I think these people are beyond help, and unfortunately they have the funds or limitless credit to endorse their madness. I need more idols to see this and start calling out these weirdos. NO ONE SHOULD ALLOW THIS BEHAVIOR TO BE NORMALIZED, end of story.

[lainalit]

hey, about your sjm's abelism against lucien, i'd just like to say i 100% agree!! i'd like to point at other abelist things in sjm's writing and i apologize in advance bc this might be long.

as a disabled person, yeah sjm is pretty fuckin abelist, unintentional or not. tower of dawn's disability storyline starts out as ehh to downright awful as it employs the abelist fantasy trope of *~magical healing*~. although chaol comes to accept disability and others who are disabled by the end (which is good!), he gets fully healed :/ also yrene's treatment of him in the beginning was atrocious. telling him to stand up even though he couldn't?? it read like an abusive medical care worker

on acotar-related things, i disliked how feyre's father is depicted as useless until his death, where he "finally does something" buuut it ends with him dying. if someone is ill enough that they cannot do anything, calling them useless and then killing them when they save the day gives me the ICK.

finally, the way nesta's mental health was handled was abelist (same could be said with feyre and tamlin in their own ways) sjm cannot depict PTSD/trauma consistently or, hell, equally between her characters. her knowledge of this disorder seems so misinformed, either that or she purposefully cherry picked qualities, which is an awful way to portray any disorder. nesta's """healing""" in acosf was absolutely miserable. sorry not sorry but i don't think getting dicked down, chocolate, and meditation will help anyone get better from literal Post Traumatic Stress Disorder!! it's giving a middle aged white woman telling my disabled ass "have you tried yoga?"

anyway, sorry about my rant 😭 as someone who liked sjm as teen during early tog and acotar book 1, i am. very bitter sometimes.

Hi,

It is definitely good to get a perspective from someone who has a disability rather than from someone like me who is ablebodied and only has family members who are disabled, so my perspective is limited in that regard, so thanks for your views on the matter.

I hadn't read ToG yet, so I can't judge if it's ableist or not, but if it's true, like you said with the whole magic healing, then that's pretty bad, especially if she has no knowledge or even personal relations with topics like paralysis. The thing is magic healing in itself; I don't hate so much. It makes sense in a fantasy setting to maybe have advanced healing abilities, but to outright make a character who is disabled to completely heal and have no side effects or struggles later on is such bullshit, and this trope should die out as it is right now.

The problem with Papa Archeron I have is that he is a nonexistent character till the end. I don't know why sarah even bothered to write him in the story; he hasn't even gotten a name.

Also, his health problems are so vaguely described that I often forgot that he had any, and the fact that he is a deadbeat makes it even more atrocious that she portrays a man with physical and mental health problems as such an unlikeable throwaway character.

Don't get me started on Nesta. I hated every second of Acosf; everybody was constantly dogpilling on her, and for what?

Did she have problems and made mistakes? absolutly, but why is the inner circle (besides elain and feyre) in nestas business? Like,  nobody besides her sisters truly cared for her and wanted her to get better; they just wanted her powers and making her amiable so she could sit with them on their stupid dinner table and fondle rhysass ballsack.

The fact that they know to some extent that mental health problems existed in the night court since we got the library with the sa survivors, but the ic couldn't fathom to maybe just ask some healer what the best course of action for nesta is since she obviously struggles, is so baffling to me.

But since SJM thinks hiking/ training= therapy, I'm not surprised by anything anymore.

Don't worry, rants here are always welcome💙

[mattraeax]

Stitched

Zoro x Reader [1/?]

WC - 1164

Warnings ↔ mentions abuse (work + additional notes), alcohol (work + additional notes), zoro kinda really sucks ass in this, OOC Luffy (? idk he's serious so to me that counts)

Notes ↔ i debated making this third or first pov but I said fuck it and did second bc it irritates my friend so badly AND bc it helps feedback putting yourself in a situation, excuse the shittiness of it im so out of touch w/ writing anything not genuinely disturbing LMFAO; additional notes/vent at the end I REALLY really need some advice 😭

IF YOU SEE THEY/THEIR WHERE YOU/YOUR IS SUPPOSED TO BE NO YOU DON'T 😁

story under "keep reading as to not clog/give you carpal tunnel <3

It was a cool night out in the Alabasta desert and Ace decided to make up games around the campfire to ease tensions about the war. Everyone was sitting around talking and enjoying themselves, occasionally breaking the peace was Ussop yelling at Luffy to "leave the fire to the fire man please" when he started to “cook his food over here so you all won't take it”. 

You were enjoying the chaos, speaking with Nami when they felt a hand on their shoulder. "hey I need to talk to you" Zoro said, practically dragging you behind a pair of boulders some ways away from, the crew. "Why don't you treat me like a priority?" Before you could even look up at the man, he began rapid-firing questions like an interrogation. The two of you had been together for what seemed like forever and he felt you didn't value them. "Why don't you talk to me as much as you talk to Nami or Ace or Ussop? How come you don't ask personal questions about me?" he continued on and on, pouring his heart out. You grabbed Zoro’s hand, leading him to sit on smaller rocks. 

"Zoro are you drunk? What's going on?" you asked, but you already knew. Zoro wasn’t a man of face to face confrontation if it didn’t involve violence unless he was at least buzzed. He knew you were concerned and somewhat appreciated it, but he was upset. He continued to stare, waiting for a response. You looked him in the eyes and squeezed his hands gently. "Zoro. My love, I am sincerely sorry I treat you the way I do to where you don't feel like a priority in my life. As you know I’m sick and am almost always asleep or on the verge of it, and barely have the energy to get out of bed, let alone come to find and spend time with you but that’s no excuse. You are truly the most important person in my life and I'm sorry I'm not making you feel as special to me as I know you are.” You sighed, leaning their elbows on their knees, and spoke as softly as possible to avoid further emotional strain. “I don't ask you questions because you tell me everything before I can even think of what to ask. I told you how I feel about you drinking so much. I know you have a lot going on in your head but I’d rather you just talk to me. I hate it when you drink so much Zoro." 

He squinted, seemingly trying to make sense of your words. “Y/N I get you're tired all the time but that's no excuse. I always still find time for you when I'm busy and I can't figure out why you won't do the same. I’m not saying all of this to make you feel bad but it's been for months now. I feel like I'm a side piece to you. I don't feel like this relationship is working, sometimes it feels like its all one sided because we barely interact. The way you treat me makes me feel abused by you. Emotionally physically and mentally I am being abused by you and your actions I feel like you just don't care.” Zoro continued on and on, repeating everything in different ways. You, however, were stunned. The love of your life has lost his mind. You blinked once, twice, and stood up. “Zoro. Im going to bed. Please keep your distance from me I need to think some things over.” At the mention of space, he stood up and raised his voice just enough to draw the crew's attention. “You will stay here while we finish our conversation Y/N L/N.” 

You turned around in shock at being shouted at, trying to calm yourself before making this any more painful. “Roronoa Zoro, it’s not much of a conversation when all you do is drone on and interrupt me when I answer whatever question you've asked for the nth time in a row. I hate when you don't listen yet demand I change my actions. It’s not my fault you choose to ignore me when I try to speak to you or go to bed not 10 minutes into our alone time everytime. I tell you every time when I don’t feel well enough to hold a regular conversation or when I’m exhausted beyond belief but you’re so dense you think I’m lying. You can’t figure out why I don’t communicate before you only think of yourself Zoro! You do not dictate what I do or when I speak with you. Leave me alone for now Zoro.” Everyone could have sworn the desert had never been quieter. Y/N was high on adrenaline, remembering why you loathe alcohol. In a heartbeat, Zoro was in their face, bent down at eye level. “You need to do better Y/N. I lov- well maybe not that word, that's too strong but I do like you a lot. I want to make this work with you. Get it together.” he gritted through his teeth. That was your last straw. Eerily calm, you backed up, muttered a very soft “okay” and walked back to the temporary base. Everyone looked extremely uncomfortable and sympathetic for them, as they had nosely listened to  overheard everything. You picked up your sleeping bag and a spare piece of wood, walking up to Ace. “Hey I'm sorry to bother you but can you light this? Don't wanna ruin your lovely blaze here.” you weakly chuckled, gesturing to the fire.

 He nodded, trying to make eye contact but failing as they looked away quickly. As they walked away from the group, Luffy approached them, slightly startling you. “Sorry didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he asked rather seriously, a rare but much-appreciated sight for them. You turned to your captain and the crew. “Please keep your swordsman away from me for a while. I may actually end up killing him if he’s anywhere around me.” Your tone set everyone on edge. Seeing everyone nod and affirm the favor, you slouched, finally relieved to be away from him. Between the flashbacks and the headrush of shouting, you finally felt safe. You felt your body grow weak and hit the sand. Luffy reached out to you but he was waved off. “I’m alright Luffy. Goodnight everyone, I'll be 56 paces this way when yall are ready to get going in the morning.” pointing over your shoulder, diagonal to where your “conversation” with Zoro took place for as much distance as possible. As you walked and set up for the night you couldn’t help but cry, remembering that any and every time alcohol was involved it was a disappointment. You wondered if you were the catalyst for everyone’s drinking habits as you finally got to sleep, absolutely dreading the morning.

↪

BASED ON A TRUE STORY (◎﹏◎) oh my god my partner (idek what to call him now I ain't spoke to him in bout a week n a half dog) called me drunk and called me all types of manipulative n abusive for not communicating enough (im chronically ill and the heat is NOT helping, he knows this) and called our relationship a situationship so that's always wonderful to hear. every line from zoro is either exactly or summed up what this mf said to me and oh my god I really just don't know what to do, I'm not sure if i wanna make it work or not

close friend said its manipulative as fuck n i need to get out bc every fight we've been in has been bc he forgot I said/told him something and he flipped it to me not communicating, I can see it but FUCK why is leaving so hard

[fr-wiwiw]

I have no art to post— actually I do. It's my studies and sketches, sfw & nsfw, things like that. But I haven't been deliberately drawing something. Mainly I've just been focusing on sharpening my art skills to gain commissions as I'm a freelance human artist, in the midst of AI chaos, I'm trying my very best to keep up while not draining myself.

So I just want to give you some updates of my life, idk if this is important or not. I'm still a bit constipatedly (is this even a fucking word lol) awkward with communicating with my followers or advertising myself. Ironic, really, bcs I majored in design & advertisement.

Hi there, my lovelies—I hope you don't mind me calling you all that. I've been trying to do healthy habits and diligently fulfill my needs in 3 aspects. Mentally, spiritually and physically. For the past 7± years, I was not really in a great place mentally. I will not expose it in this post, don't worry it doesn't have anything to do with drugs or whatnot. Just that I've been constantly working and working, controlled by fear and my anxieties and I got depressed I think.

I didn't really understand how to actually 'heal' back then. But now I do now. Starting from January I've been trying to bounce back to have a healthy mindset again— trust me when I say I'm an overthinker & problem solver, it's such a nightmare to live in this body sometimes. Fellow overthinker, problem-solver & feeler type will relate to this perhaps hahah.. I'm a turbulence type too, fucking yay. Luckily, my prayers are answered. I can't write it down one by one here, you would be reading a 10k+ fanfiction and I'm sure you'd rather have me draw or write a real fanfic, smut would be preferable won't it? lol

I have many things change, become my better self (bcs I was, still am obsessed becoming better than my past self and I'm tired of living in such dark headspace). I do feel the changes, it helps that I have better friends, filtered out some that affects me negatively. This journey going into my 30s really is such a roller coaster, I never liked my 20s bcs of all the trauma and pain. But I wouldn't be able to reach this point if it wasn't for it.

So.. I'm grateful. Trying to always be grateful too, no matter how hard my circumstances are. I have faith that I will get what I've always envisioned and dream of

I'm also grateful that in 2022, a friend encouraged me to post my Gahan fanart. Now this may seem like biased and dedicated post for my Gahan moots & followers, in some way yes, I cannot deny that. But mostly this is too all of you, who come here and follow me bcs you like my arts & fanfics, supports me however you can despite having our own hardships that we may or may not share here. Your responses to my creations really feeds me and help me boost my confidence to keep drawing & keep creating, keep hoping. I always read your hashtags here, a lot of you are really such a hilarious individuals. I'm grateful my art can find you or you find my art and take delight in it. Because I do take delight in your reactions. In some ways, I never realized it, but you guys feel like penpals. It still feel one-way communication most of the time, idk if it's because of my awkwardness to respond to such responses. Feeling like, ah this too will pass or just bask in the reactions and sit then do nothing productive. I'm kinda scared I will be satisfied with one post and then not post anymore. You get it.. Yea you can probably tell by now I'm up in my head thinking too much. Posting that first Gahan fanart on twitter really was the best decision. It feels like I gained a special community, that's surprisingly still active and alive till this very day, I'm always waiting for new fics to drop gosh. I get to see tweets & tumblr posts that are deranged, detailed analysis, fan edits, those gifs, aus, fellow artists & authors! I get to know little bits of your daily lives too and what kind of person you are online haha, just so fun.

And then my freelancing journey.. My decision to become a freelancer has always been one of my dreams but boy oh boy isn't it fucking hard to start from 0 and exist in confusion haha. Money doesn't come easy too bcs I help feed my family along with my siblings. I've been swallowing all my jealousy seeing ppl my age can go out and watch concerts (even tho I don't like crowded & noisy places like that). Going on vacation, be in a romantic relationship, marry, so on and so forth. Idk if this is tmi posting my feelings like this out in the world, but it is what it is.

So.. TLDR:

Hi, I'm alive. I haven't post or updated much bcs I've been focusing on my well being. Honing my art skills, trying to get art commissions to put food on my table and simultaneously enjoying life as much as I could wisely. Thankyou to all of you who are still following me and keep supporting me, I will have to say, If you follow me for only Gahan posts, I have to disappoint you bcs I won't always post Gahan bcs I draw other things too. For my enjoyment, yours, others and mostly for me to gain market for commission too. This is norm, I'm sure most of you realized that too. But I still want to address things to you, I like interacting with all of you. I won't be surprised if one day you leave/unfollow, but let me be grateful to you while you're still here supporting me ^^

That's all for my update. I try my best to make this post as short but effective as possible so I don't bore you with my long ass writing, per usual lol. I cannot seem to write in shorts, I have accepted my faith lmao.

I wish you all well, wherever you are. I hope we can all be happy and well in this dark and uncertain place. Don't hesitate to give comments or drop questions here, I'm cooking my skills and art taste so I can give more to you and be satisfied with what I will achieve along with the progress.

See you in the next post!🌟

[nickolox]

((( long ramble post)))

trying to figure wtf is going on with your own mental health without the help of a professional + having a mental illness that already fucks with the way you perceive things (ocd) is genuine hell

like, I HAVE a psychiatrist, but he's fucking. awful and always puts medications first over like, figuring out what the fuck is going on

and everything about this whole procedure just feels like, off???

tldr: local man questions if he has The Dissociative Disorder™ whilst being simultaneously given red herrings and blatantly obvious eye opening signals at the same time, and has the same realizations 30 times over because i am in a constant cycle of denial, forgetting and then rediscovering this bullshit

so to put it in a nutshell most of my psychiatrist discussions about the big disorderly things go like this:

psych: so what are you experiencing me: i keep like, having these massive gaps in my memory, where i have no idea what happened or what i did or anythign for hours and hours at a time, and i looked up what that means and its apparently called dissociating? what does that mean? psych: right, that's a stress response. me: yeah, That makes sense. But I've also been unable to remember major events like my sister's wedding or my graduation... psych: well... obviously you were just anxious lol me: *remembers the photos i have as the only proof i have that those events happened, and im smiling in all of them* maybe?? i mean, it didn't seem like that was the case. psych: (completely ignores that) hmmm. okay. anyways- me: also I've been hearing voices??? psych: where? externally or internally? me: internally psych: (visible relief) oh thank god i was concerned it was schizophrenia for a moment, having an internal dialogue is normal :) me: i can't control the voices though, and they don't sound like my own voice in my mind. they're distinct, and it's not like my OCD either. psych: that's normal, sometimes people just imagine things ^_^

so, it was "anxiety" the first time, came back. told him this shit is still happening, and then he blamed it on my medications, and now i'm on a new set, which i suppose needed to happen anyways?

But like, he told me that brain fog and memory loss are a thing with prozac (what i was taking before) and i was like "huh no one told me that" to which he said "well no one says the full list of side effects because no one would want to take the meds otherwise"

i get home, i look up the fucking manual that comes with prozac when you go on it for the first time, and no where. NOWHERE. is this shit on that list of side effects. i look up a list of the side effects, dozens of sites, NOTHING!!!!

I speak with my bestie and he reminds me that,

I dealt with these problems prior to going on medication (something i didnt even remember, lol)

it has literally nothing to do with anxiety bc he himself has crippling anxiety and deals with none of the shit i do

i'm going to shit bricks dude what the fuck is wrong with my stupid brain, it feels like such a wild challenge compared to when i found out about my OCD, like, dude at least with that bitch it was consistent, it was 24/7. as shit as that was at least I knew it was always there, always there to be a bitch, but undeniable none the less.

This current mystery disorder is like, oooOOOooo i'm going to be here SOME OF THE TIME!!! to make you DOUBT it exists!!! and im sitting here like, is this a symptom or is this my ocd fucking with me bro

i feel like i might have some kind of dissociative disorder, but the problem I'm having is that it's not CONSISTENT??? like, some days I'll be like yeah this is the dream and then other days I cannot physically do anything, remember jack shit, feel like my soul is leaving my fucking body all god damn day?

why do people always talk about alters too, it's like, the one thing I don't experience, or at least, the one thing that's rare enough to not hinder me like the actual dissociation problems.

I feel like I can't be certain, and that sets my OCD off, because my brain goes "what if we're faking- what if you're overreacting" which in turn makes me go. insane. I am going insane.

there is sooo much more i could say, but i just realized it;s half past midnight. I should um. probably go to bed.

Goodnight.

[suguru-getos]

(Omg I almost forgot the 2k event shame on me-)

I'm here for a matchup ! I'm an INFP-T 6w5 and a Capricorn. I'm also a depressed bitch relying on humor and bad jokes to survive the hazards of life (and music too. Lots of music. Looots of music. I can't go through a day without music.)

I'm a hypersensitive individual, meaning I can take things very seriously, emotionally speaking (I'm not saying I'm crying over everything but oof I sure get depressed.) I also have a poor physical constitution, so no stamina, no strength, and I overall struggle a lot to keep up the rhythm because of it. In short, I am w e a k both mentally and physically

My love languages are physical touch, gift-giving, and quality time ! (And bantering haha) I love giving hugs and headpats to my loved ones and I melt when I receive some (I'm actually very touch-starved...) Nothing makes me happier than seeing them smile so I often go to great lengths to do so, whether it's finding the perfect gift, helping them when they're into trouble, or just finding time for them in my overbooked schedule.

Finally, I exude the energy of a cat. I like to lay around, I'm easily scared/surprised/panicked and I like to mess around my loved ones. I would spend my day sleeping in my bed to wake up at night and bullshit around and spam my friends.

Hope this will do, have a nice day En <3

thanks for participating 🤍

I SHALL GRANT YOU ALHAITHAM AS A MATCHUP

this man has no interest in music and other things. he feels they are distracting in a way. but then when he fell for you? he HAS to know all ur favs, he wants to be a part of all the things you do <3 behold him, sitting beside you and listening to songs. sometimes he thinks deep and thinks of any deeper meanings within those songs. then, scoffs at himself, saying it’s pointless anyways. its not to him anymore

he sometimes takes the mum role and asks you to take care of urself. no he will not stop, he will make sure you eat well, sometimes even goes on walks with you w the assurance that he will carry you later on. and how much physical movement is necessary.

in the beginning yall had arguments bc this man as no filter 😭 but upon understanding more about you, knowing which things would be okay as banter versus which could actually hurt you. man’s now stored w knowledge about you better than any knowledge capsule 😤

alhaitham has all your gifts stored, the cards you gave laminated, everything is kept like a precious monument to be treasured for generations grr! also, he is also very meticulous at gift giving. so expect the same from him

man titties good for hugging. headpats always whenever u finish the soup he made for u? headpat, whenever u worked out a little? good job w a headpat.

IT COUPLE VIBEZZZ

[dissociacrip]

i wanna punch anyone who says "just stay home" to people irt anything about disability or otherwise frames staying home most or all of the time as an easy, consequence-less existence in the throat. this includes mental disability, but i'm especially talking about physical disability here.

i am ambulatory and not bedbound or housebound and i won't claim that experience. i'm also (mostly) capable of living independently. but part of the reason i didn't understand i was physically disabled for so long is because i have, up until this point, spent most of my life at home and in bed unless i was in school. i didn't go out with friends on a regular basis and most of the long outings i've been on were when i was less sick (even though i was born disabled) or when i was too young to understand that what i was experiencing was - in fact - not normal and not how "healthy" and "functioning" bodies work. having to work, having to be much more physically active, is what has really highlighted that my body doesn't work properly to me.

so like, the only way that i can avoid pain and suffering is by being at home. in bed. doing nothing. i get physically worn out just from sitting up and folding my clothes.

and i'm fed up with it because now that i'm in a situation where i can actually go out and do things with people, where getting to go out and do these things is bringing to my attention that i am in fact a cripple with limited physical capacity, i'm realizing how fucking miserable it is to be home all the time. because before i didn't really have a point of comparison. when i don't get to see people and socialize for a while my mental problems start jacking up too. my boyfriend tells me that working from home is probably the most accessible option for me once i graduate, but i don't want to because being home all the time. fucking sucks. and while my current jobs are manual labor that makes me miserable in other ways due to my body not working correctly, at least it's an excuse to get out of the house and be around other people.

not being able to participate in society to the same extent as others, barring the fact that said participation does open up some more avenues to ableist violence in my experience (sometimes i ask myself what is even the point if society evidently doesn't WANT me participating in it), is miserable. being home all the time and not getting to experience what is conventionally framed as "real life" is miserable. being isolated and cut off from the world fucking sucks.

not to mention isolation makes some of us so much more vulnerable to certain forms of violence - e.g. being stuck with abusive family and caregivers. just look at how abuse/domestic violence spiked during the height of the pandemic.

and if it sucks for someone like me, imagine how it is for people who are housebound or bedbound. or who are avoiding being in public nowadays because COVID could kill them and most people and institutions have thrown all precautions for that to the wind. this isn't even going into the ways in which society physically bars us from the public thanks to inaccessibility.

i remember when the lockdown first happened and a bunch of abled people were talking about how miserable it was to be stuck inside all the time and 1. my immediate thought was "welcome to the fucking club, this has been my life for ages" bc i'm a bitter asshole and 2. i wonder how many of those people make any kind of active effort to make the public safer and more accommodating to disabled people, including masking, whether they know them personally or not, because while maybe they can return to a "normal" life, some of us have never gotten that chance in the first place, do not have that chance right now, and those things are inextricably linked to the way society is structured and the oftentimes the decisions abled people make in their everyday lives.

so stop telling immunocompromised and high-risk people that they should "just stay home" and also stop pretending people who spend most or all of their time at home due to disability reasons are lucky or privileged.