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#e: indefinite
officialrovix · 1 year
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[#딩고라이브] HYUK(혁) – Stay For Me (feat.서인국)ㅣ딩고뮤직ㅣDingo Music | © 딩고 뮤직 / dingo music
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coldshrugs · 3 months
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pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau word count: 4.6k summary: [modern au] estinien meets io in a support group for grieving youths. set five years before this.
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Estinien is early—the first one in the room, as usual, even before Counselor Miounne arrives. It’s part of the ritual.
Hit the lights and dim them to three-quarters. Turn on the fancy instant coffeemaker, make sure there are enough of those little fucking pods for everyone. Sugar and powdered creamer too. Music on, some unobtrusive classical harp thing he doesn’t care for. Then he arranges nine chairs in a loose circle and, selfishly, puts the least squeaky one in his spot across from the window.
It helps, to do these tasks before their sessions. The work allows him to mentally prepare for this, because when is it easy to circle death’s drain for two hours?
With the space set up, he slings his backpack over his claimed chair and waits.
They stroll into the meeting in ones and twos. They make their coffee, ask about their weeks (in the casual way, where you’re supposed to answer “fine” even if it wasn’t; the real answers will come later). Eventually, Miounne enters and everyone finds a seat.
He isn’t great with names, but he knows a few by now. Lyse, the one with the sister and dad, and one of the youngest members. Leofard, the one with the mom. He knows all the faces though, and the one hovering by the door is new.
She’s tall, but slouching a little, crossing her arms like she’s scared to take up space or trying not to be seen. Inky blue hair is piled into a loose bun on top of her head, with long wavy strands hanging around her freckled face. Her eyes are bloodshot, almost too focused. She must be new.
As he watches her, her gaze cuts over to him—
“Estinien,” Miounne calls. His attention snaps from the girl at the door to his counselor. “Another chair, please?”
“Yeah, sure.” He quickly grabs one from the nearest stack, looking for a decent place to put it. Two kids slide their chairs apart so he can fit this one between them. Right in front of the window.
He sits again and Miounne claps softly, still standing in the center of the circle.
“Hi friends,” she says, more gently than usual. “It’s been a while since we’ve welcomed a new face, hasn’t it? I know we’re all capable of extending warmth and patience to those who need it, so let’s be mindful of that as we welcome Io to our group, okay?”
She gestures to the door, beckoning the new girl in. Io. He’ll try to remember that. He wonders who she lost and when, and tries not to wonder how. The how never matters anyway. Gone is gone.
“Welcome to Haven: Youth Grief Counseling, Io. Take a seat, just there, sweetie.”
Io sits down and Estinien regrets this seating arrangement; he’s lost the window view. She glances around the circle, her polite smile is a tight line. Her eyes flick to him once more, then back to the floor.
Miounne sits too. She claps one more time and they begin.
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Next week starts the same. His chin is in his hand, elbow propped on his bouncing knee as they arrive. Lyse. Leofard. New girl.
Leo takes his seat next to Estinien and leans over. Oh god.
“Estinien,” he whispers loud enough for almost everyone to hear. His eyes flash to the new girl making coffee by herself. “I found out what her deal is.”
“Happy for you,” Estinien says. That’s not his business. But he stupidly glances at Leo anyway.
“She’s like you. Total wipeout—we’re talking mom, dad, two younger siblings—about a year ago. Just now going back to school, apparently.” He looks at her again, taking a bold head-to-toe survey, and Estinien follows. She’s tall, willowy, and there’s something disciplined about her posture; the set of her shoulders feels intentional even in her depression slump. Her ears tilt, and he turns back around. Leofard is still staring. “Wonder what else she’s ready to get back into…” He winks at Estinien.
“Probably best to leave her alone. She’s not here to find a date,” he says.
Leo huffs in fake offense. “Well, neither am I but if it happens, it happens.”
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A month passes, one week bleeding into the next, and Estinien is always early to Haven. But someone is earlier today, of all days. The door is open, the light is on, and the chairs are in their circle.
Io is waiting.
He remembers her name now. It’s easy to remember the girl who hasn’t said anything in five sessions. It’s unusual, but understandable; they’re all strangers to her, and if what Leofard said is true, he’s impressed she’s showing up at all.
Estinien recalls what his loss was like a fresh wound—the anger throbbing in his chest, sobbing his voice raw for days, not eating or sleeping. He wouldn’t speak to Alberic at first, either. It feels so childish to him now. But looking at her… those feelings echo in his chest, and he is sharply reminded that grief doesn’t shrink.
He shoots her a courtesy smile as he starts the coffeemaker and CD player.
“Sorry about the shitty music,” he says as the sound of softly plucked strings fills the space. When he looks over, she’s staring at the floor again, eyes wide—that awkward “what the fuck” face—and his stomach flips. He said something wrong.
Cool.
He takes his seat across from her, trying to bury the urge to wait on the bench just outside the room when his chair squeaks. Great. He takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes. To deal or not to deal? He is, unfortunately, too big for the noise to keep from happening and he can’t be annoyed for the next two hours. What does he care if she thinks he looks crazy?
He stands up and jostles the next chair, which is better but not great. He tries the next. Even worse.
“What are you doing?”
The rasp of her voice is so quiet that he doesn’t fully catch the words.
He looks up from the red plastic in his hand. “What?”
She looks like she wishes she’d not asked at all, rubbing a hand anxiously over her arm. She sighs. “With the chairs. What are you doing with the chairs?”
“Trying to find one that doesn’t squeak. I usually—”
“I took that one.” She glances up at him, grimacing, but there’s a light in her eyes. It’s the least miserable he’s seen her so far. She thinks this is funny. “Sorry. You can have it back.”
He puts a hand up when she stands. He’s not taking the chair from the sad girl. “Uh… no. No, you can take it. There’s probably another one that isn’t annoying as fuck, I’ll find it.”
“Then let me help you. It’s only fair, since I disturbed your whole—” she gestures slowly around the meeting room— “process.” God, her voice is in shreds.
He can’t say no when this is the first sign of life she’s shown in over a month, at least here. He nods. “Sure, if you want.”
They go through the chairs in the circle, then the others neatly stacked in the corner. They don’t really talk, besides simple directions: “I tried that one already,” and “will you pass me another,” and “holy shit, that’s the worst one yet.” Estinien is keenly aware of her shifting around him, slowly at first, and then with less hesitation. Finally, they find a chair that doesn’t creak when he sits or moves. It goes in his spot and they clean up the rest.
“Hey,” Io says, and the word is conspiratorial. She catches his gaze, and something about hers makes him feel like glass, like they almost know each other. Like he’s seen her before, a blurry smile littering the backgrounds of photos in the album he managed to salvage, only viewed in profile or half out of frame, obscured by the barely remembered vacation or birthday party in the foreground. He swallows as she reaches into her bag and pulls out a black marker. “Should we make sure we never lose these again?”
“Vandalism? In our therapy group?” He squints, shoving down the fondness she’s conjured in just a few minutes. “Do you even need to ask?”
She laughs, or tries to. It comes out weak and cracked as she crosses to his side of the circle and kneels beside him. She pops the cap off the marker. “It’s Estinien, right?”
He nods, “Yeah.”
“I’m Io. The other total wipeout”—she air quotes Leo’s label—“but you already knew that.” She scribbles a small “E” on the side of the chair then heads back over to her own, where she writes an “I.”
It’s almost time for group to start.
“Are you gonna talk about it today?” Estinien asks. It’s just them sitting directly across from one another, surrounded by empty chairs.
Io shrugs, and her body seems to fold in on itself. Making herself small again. “I don’t know. It’s hard to talk about it at all. I’ll try?”
“You don’t have to. But it does help, in a weird way.”
The others drift in at the usual leisurely pace, Miounne claps, and they begin.
First question: “How are you feeling today?”
They go in a circle starting at Miounne’s left. Some answers are simple, like Leo’s.
“Pretty good. I started planning a trip for fall break, somewhere I think Mom would’ve liked to see. I’m looking forward to telling you guys about the trouble I got into when I’m back.”
Sometimes there’s a follow-up, sometimes Miounne will let it hang. Estinien has no idea how she gauges that, but it feels right.
He’s third to answer.
How does he feel today? He picks at the frayed edge of a hole in his jeans.
“I’m kind of anxious today. I declared my major this year so everything feels… more real, I guess. I’m trying to study for a couple of tests next week but I read the page and it may as well be blank. Nothing sticks. I keep worrying I might…” He pauses. This is normally when he’d look out the window; when something heavy rises to the surface, it’s easier to look outside, but for five weeks, Io has been sitting in front of him. The broken habit means he shares less. But how can he encourage her if he can’t bend a little himself?
He looks up, and there she is—dark, curious, and strangely calming, her eyes burn a hole right through him. Behind her, the trees in the courtyard are starting to take on shades of autumn, gold and bronze intensified by the sunlight filtering through the leaves. It’s a view he can deal with. Io gives him an almost imperceptible nod.
“I worry I might let them down. It feels stupid to say out loud,” he laughs with a short snorted breath. “It’s always in the back of my mind though: what would they think of me now? What does this action mean to them? I guess it doesn’t mean anything and I should just study for the damn test so I can actually be someone they’d be proud of. Anyway… yeah, I’m anxious today.”
Miounne reclines a little in her seat. “Have you tried anything to help you study, to shift that focus on what your family would think towards something more current?”
He nods, looking from Io to Miounne. “Yeah, uh, I’ve asked a friend to join me. We’re going to try that today. He’s been pretty supportive since learning about all of this, and his grades are better than mine anyway. And I try to think about Alberic, my former guardian, I guess. I think he’d be proud of me no matter how I end up, so that helps.”
“Excellent,” she says, looking around at the others before spelling out the lesson. “Leaning on others is a great way to remind ourselves how loved and valued we are, especially when lower moods may make you want to isolate. Re-establishing bonds of friendship, or building new ones, helps bring your focus to just how strong your current support system is, or where it’s lacking. I think you’re doing that beautifully, Estinien. Thank you.”
He exhales, shying away from the praise and returning his focus to his frayed hem. Maybe that’s enough sharing for this week.
They keep going. Io is second to last, and though everyone expects silence by now, Miounne asks anyway.
“How are you feeling today, Io? Anything you want to share?”
He looks up again—will she actually say something today?—and she’s focused on him now. The room is empty again, except for the two of them in the empty circle. Fresh sharpie smell rising from their initials on the chairs.
“Hey,” she says, raising her hand in a little wave. “Sorry for being weird. I’m trying.”
“No such thing as weird in this room,” Miounne offers.
Io doesn’t look away from Estinien. She brushes a stray lock of hair from her eyes, and the tiniest hint of a smile pulls at the corners of her lips.
“I’m feeling okay today. As okay as I think I can feel right now, anyway. I cleaned my apartment this morning. And I’ve been working really hard on a piece for my school’s symphony showcase before fall break. I even invited some friends I haven’t talked to in… too long.”
“That’s wonderful, Io!” Miounne leans forward, elbows on her knees. “I read you major in music at RSU? What do you play?”
Her eyes fall to her lap. “Pedal harp. Mostly classical, but sometimes I make arrangements of new music, for fun.”
Shit.
“Thank you for sharing today, Io. We appreciate the opportunity to get to know you.” Miounne moves on, and so does everyone else.
But Estinien is stuck on this one thing. His stomach ties itself in a knot. Without knowing, he insulted her, and then she helped him with the stupid chairs… And it doesn’t even matter, because she doesn’t know him. They don’t go to the same university, and the only things they have in common are their dead families and the two hours a week they spend in this room. He has no notions of being friends with her, and definitely nothing like what Leofard has in mind. Still, he can’t stop it gnawing at him.
The session wraps and he approaches Io before she leaves.
“Io?”
She turns to him, for once standing at her full height, and they’re almost eye to eye. The almost-smile is back, and that gnaws at him too. “Hey, thanks for the nudge earlier. You were right.”
“Yeah, well,” He fidgets with his keys. “I’m sorry for calling the music shitty. I didn’t know harp was, like, a thing for you.”
Her laugh is stronger than before. “Wait, are you serious? You had no way to know that, and I’m not the music police. You don’t have to like it.”
He shrugs. “Still not a cool thing to say. I mean, I only really know it from this place anyway.”
“Would you… want to come to my concert?” She asks slowly, then shakes her head. “That might be dumb. That’s all the way across town and we basically just met. I—”
A strand of hair falls into her eyes and his fingers twitch as she tucks it in with the rest. She’s still rambling when the words rush out of him before he considers them.
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
“—Oh.” Wide, surprised eyes blink up at him. “Okay, great! You can bring a friend, or a date, or whatever. I’ll bring tickets for you next week?”
Estinien pockets his keys. “Sure. I’ll see you then.” Despite his clumsy apology to someone who may as well be a stranger, as Io leaves, he feels the same wave of nostalgia from earlier. Some things are true no matter how you fight them.
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Estinien enters his dorm with two tickets in hand. Keys in the bowl by the door, backpack under his desk, shoes in the closet. He falls onto his bed with a little bounce, holding the shiny slips of paper up to the light.
“What took you so long?” Aymeric asks from his bed on the other side of the room. He’s reclined on a few pillows, and it looks like he’s alternating between two books. “I’m starving.”
Estinien shrugs. “Got caught up talking to someone after the session. She invited me to her concert in a couple of weeks. Wanna go?” He holds the tickets out for Aymeric’s inspection.
He looks them over, brows raising in slight surprise. “You actually want to go to this?”
“I don’t know, but I said I would.” Estinien sits up. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”
“Is she cute, whoever she is?” Aymeric lazily passes the tickets across the canyon between their beds. “Can’t see why you’d want to go otherwise. I mean, I definitely want to go, it sounds kind of fancy, but you… Hmm.”
“Shut up,” he laughs. There are other reasons, but the most important is making amends for being a dick, even by accident. “Her name is Io. She’s nice, seems cool now that she talks. She’s new to the group.”
“We can go, but you didn’t answer the question.”
“Look, it’s nothing like that. She even said I could bring a date.” Estinien places the tickets in his nightstand drawer, regretting the decision to ask for company.
Aymeric shakes his head and returns to his reading. “You poor, sad muppet. Order a pizza already.”
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They stand outside the theater in their untucked button-downs over jeans. Estinien hasn’t been on this campus before, but Aymeric has; thanks to an on-again-off-again thing with some miqo’te guy who goes here, they were able to find the place quickly.
“Are we meeting her before the show?” Ayms asks, scanning the crowd. He’s been eager to learn more about Io in the days leading up to this.
“Nah, she’s backstage, but said I could text her after. It’ll be quick. She has other friends coming, so I’ll just say hi.” It sounds simple enough, but anxiety prickles across his chest.
Inside, they find their seats in the front row of the balcony—a surprisingly nice view.
“Not bad,” Aymeric admires the architecture, comparing things to this venue to the one on their campus, but Estinien hasn’t been in that one either. He only catches half of what’s said, eyes focused on the stage. Aymeric nudges him with an elbow. “She’s the harpist, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, she has a solo at some point.” He rubs his hands on his jeans, sitting forward in the seat a little as the lights go down and the musicians file onto the stage.
“Relax,” Aymeric whispers. “You might enjoy it if you chill out. Look, there she is.”
He points through the dark as she approaches the harp in the back center, almost directly in front of him, and he’s reminded of how they sit during Haven. She’s wearing long black boots and a short dress of the same color, with loose sleeves he can see through. Her hair is down tonight, but pulled back from her face. She’s pretty, even from here.
“Whoa.” Aymeric sits forward too. “You couldn’t just say she’s cute, could you?”
“I told you, it’s not like that. She just lost her fami—”
“SHH!”
Aymeric’s smile is infuriating, cradling his chin in his hand. Estinien shoots him a dark look, then passes a hand over his face as anxiety twists into hot embarrassment, thankful for the darkness as the music starts.
And it’s the music he can’t look away from. There’s more movement in it than he expected, a rawness the CDs or digital streams just don’t portray. Everyone is working to build part of a whole, and each of them can be heard in the larger sound.
Then there is Io.
Admittedly, his experience is limited, but he’s never seen her like this. Every motion is fluid, yet deliberate, even while supporting such a heavy-looking instrument. She is focused, on her hands, on the sheet music in front of her, on the others playing around her. And she looks… serene. Happy.
The tempo slows during the fourth song and a godlight falls on her, a little spot of brightness that eclipses all else. Her solo. Estinien holds his breath.
She builds suspense with sound, then her hands move faster than he can make sense of. Sometimes she places a hand flat against the strings to still them, and that is what hollows out his chest. The elegant control in what he thought was so simple. This is nothing like the CD in their support group. He could listen to this forever.
The rest of the orchestra gradually rises around her until the lights on them lift once more. He might be disappointed if the whole thing didn’t work so well. They bring the song to a close, then stand to take their bows while the audience applauds.
Estinien pulls out his phone. He’s supposed to text her, but how does he follow that? Aymeric hovers over his shoulder, watching him type and delete the same sentence three times.
“What do I say?”
Aymeric rests his chin on Estinien’s shoulder, loudly um-ing and ah-ing, and he almost regrets asking. “How about this: ‘Loved the show. I’m still around if you want to meet up.’ Simple, right? And contextually open-ended, in the unlikely case you get a grip.”
He rolls his eyes but types and sends it while she’s still on stage. It’s several minutes after the musicians exit the stage that he gets a reply: “I’m so glad you came! Take the exit to the left and the door immediately to the right, and tell the attendant you’re with me, see you soon!”
They follow the instructions to a cramped backstage area. People are carrying flowers. Should he have brought flowers? Too late now.
They wander the crowd aimlessly, and his anxiety creeps in with each passing second. There’s a touch at his elbow, light but guiding.
“Estinien,” Io’s voice. Her quiet rasp is familiar to him now, and she sounds far more healthy than when she first spoke to him. He turns to her, and she beams. “Thank you for coming!”
He isn’t sure what to do, and he has no token of congratulations to give her. “Thanks for inviting me. Inviting us, I guess.”
“Us?” Io looks over his shoulder, where Aymeric is practically buzzing as he waits to be introduced.
Ayms extends a hand, “Io, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you—”
“He asked constantly. I didn’t want to tell him anything—”
“—and it’s nice being able to put a beautiful face to a beautiful name.”
Estinien covers his face with his hands. “A merciful god would’ve killed me by now.”
Io accepts the handshake, “And you are?”
“Aymeric. Estinien’s roommate and, because he won’t say it out loud, his best friend.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Aymeric. I’m glad you guys came; I know it’s a big ask and it’s not everyone’s taste but—”
“It was amazing,” Estinien’s mouth moves before his mind catches up, something that seems to be common in her presence. Io and Aymeric stare at him, brows lifting in unison. Her neck has flushed red. “I just… didn’t know what to expect, but it was impressive.”
Io’s half-smile, the one he’s learning she wears when she’s nervous, lifts the corner of her lips. “Thank you. I wasn’t trying to change your life or anything. I just thought it’d be cool to show you what I do, and maybe get to know you better too. You know, the “bonds” Miounne is always talking about.”
“Io!” A group of people call out from several feet behind them, waving her over.
She waves to them, then turns to him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, those are my friends. I’ll be right back.” He watches as she walks away and they sweep her into a noisy group hug.
“Dude,” Aymeric whispers, “Should I go? Do you want me to go?”
“Go where?”
“Go! Home!”
Estinien glances back at Io, and her friends are definitely looking over at them. “And leave me with them?”
Ayms grimaces, balling his hands into fists. “With her!”
Estinien shakes his head. “No, just give me a second and we can both go.” Aymeric silently fakes a scream.
Io returns, wringing her hands as she says, “We’re going to grab some dinner from a place nearby; you guys are welcome to join us.”
He hesitates. Maybe Aymeric is right and he should stay, or maybe assuming someone working through her grief wants anything more than a friendship with him is not in either of their best interests. “We should probably get back. We’ve both got to pack before break starts.”
Io’s expression dampens. “Oh, okay. Well, thanks again for coming out. I’ll see you at Haven in a couple of weeks?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “See you there.”
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Estinien turns on the light and adjusts the dimmer. It’s been a while since he’s been first, but Io shows up right after him.
“Hey,” she says quietly, heading to the CD player while he starts the coffee maker. The ritual is no longer just his.
“Hi.” He’s rummaging through the cabinet beneath the coffee station, gathering the supplies, when she starts the music. It’s not their usual instrumental album… “This is from your concert?”
She starts on the chairs. “I hope it’s okay. I emailed Miounne when I got the recording to ask if I could bring it in, to show everyone what I’ve been working on and that I’m kind of normal outside of all this. But I can switch it back, if you’d rather keep the routine.”
His eyes fall closed and he is back in the theater, watching her play in a beam of light, arms unfurling around the strings like flightless wings and he doesn’t think “normal” is a good description of her at all.
“Estinien?”
He opens his eyes.
“No, this is fine.” He stands and arranges the little coffee bar. “I meant it. I thought it was great.”
“That’s a relief,” she laughs a little. “I mean, I believed you, but…”
He frees the rest of the chairs from their neat stack. Their initials are on the last two. He passes her the “I.”
“But what?”
Io crosses her arms behind her chair, bites her lip. The early evening sun illuminates the courtyard, and as it streams through the window little specks of its light catch in her hair. “I don’t know, I always feel nervous trying to make friends.”
Ah.
It’s like he thought. He can tell Aymeric once and for all there’s nothing else going on here. Which is fine, of course. It’s fine. He wants to learn more about her, and let her get to know him too. He doesn’t have a ton, but he thinks he’s a decent friend. He could be a good friend to Io.
“Yeah,” he says, ignoring the heavy, unnameable thing settling in his stomach. “Me too. But it kind of feels like we’re already friends, right? So don’t worry about it too much.”
Io’s smile pokes through her bitten lip as she takes her seat across from him, the sun at her back. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
She is still smiling when everyone joins them, when the session begins, when Miounne asks how she’s feeling today, and when she bids him goodbye with the promise to text him this week. He knows because he can’t help but look at her.
Some things are true no matter how you fight them.
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alexis-mac-allstar · 2 months
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Every time I open a comment section on an Arsenal video or post, I’m guaranteed to find someone dissing Ødegaard and saying Rice should be captain instead and like. Maybe he’s not the best footballer in the world but he’s a really good one, *and* he’s a good captain! Everyone loves him on the team and the staff, he cares, he puts in the fucking work. It’s Rice’s first season with us, and while, yes, he’s been phenomenal for us, it’s still absolutely not enough to rob Martin of the captaincy. Honestly, I think you just don’t like him, and you and all the other haters can fuck off
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twotiime2 · 2 years
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Hi there! My name is Sin and I’m gonna do some e-begging.
I AM OFFERING $10 FULLY LINED AND COLORED (NOT SHADED) COMMISSIONS LIKE THOSE BELOW, so that I have any money while I am unemployed for the next month and my final paychecks are going toward COVID treatments.
Please consider commissioning! My asks are open but not for anons, let’s trade discord handles or DMs for details. (Pictures below include skeletons, alcohol, tricksters, clowns, shirtless AMAB individuals, eye strain.)
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homeinchaldea · 7 months
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Dragon family reunited ^_^
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owlf45 · 1 year
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Indefinite was me worrying that slug mom would eat momo for the first couple of chapters
Juni would never hurt a soul!!!!
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gunthermunch · 2 years
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if ulrike and maaike don't end up together im gonna unalive myself and then te voy a ir a tirar las patas me voy a convertir en el cuco
you want maaike to get DIVORCED?
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swagging-back-to · 1 year
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really, in this day in age if you refuse to release your movie for streaming youre actual shit and it tells me that your movie is ALSO shit.
#i was SO excited for quiet place 2 to come out.#i waited and had it on my calender#and then they indefinitely cancelled it until after the pandemic.#because 'you have to see this movie in theaters. it was made to be seen in theaters'#spoilers if you havent watched it yet... the movie was shit. it was a dumpsterfire. it crashed and burned in ways unimaginable#i dont think a single person liked that movie.#everything from the plot to the characters was senseless and infuriatingly annoying#soooo the fact that james cameron is refusing to release avatar 2 for streaming for at least another half year....#my expectations are in the dirt.#they already were after it took 13 fucking years to be made#13 years in development doesnt tell me 'this movie will be great'it tells me ' these people have no fuxking idea what theyre doing'#especially when the first one took 5 years to make and was released in 2009.#it took 5 years to make avatar one in 2000 FUCKING 4.#and yet he couldnt even have half the movie finished in the 2010s?#avatar 3 4 and 5 are all finished. they were finished (shooting and editing) YEARS before he even began avatar 2#that tells me theres GROUNDBREAKINGLY horrible time management going on behind the scenes#and honestly from the clips ive seen from the movie it really doesnt look that good#they copied almost all of the first movie right down to exact freezephrames that are the same.#they were so lazy they COULDNT EVEN COME UP WITH ORIGINAL PLOTPOINTS AND DIALOGUE IN O V E R A D E C A D E.
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gnostaire · 1 year
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orcelito · 1 year
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Tho ex assistant manager aka miss bitch, her boyfriend came in. Or ex boyfriend at the time, except he used her rewards account & I had to see her name (ughhh), so I'm like. Are they back together? Who fuckin knows
Anyways I had to make a drink today that possibly went towards the person that holds the #3 spot for most hated in my personal life. I was Slightly tempted to spit in it, but I did not.
#speculation nation#number 1 is my bad ex number 2 is my mom's shitty boyfriend. number 3 is my old assistant manager that id thought i was friendly with#but who was probably the primary reason for my general alienation amongst the workforce#causing misery to me. & then eventually coming clean about how much of a fucking BITCH she was#ok the times i have cried this year. 1 time in january that i dont remember aside from that it happened#THREE times in february bc of her. and then one Kind of cry in like. idfk. the summer. bc dorian was leaving critical role#i dont fucking cry. like. Most of the time. as a rule.#but this bitch had me full on bawling for like an hour the first time#then the 2nd was after she followed me around the store yelling at me and i just. had to go into the storage room to cry for half an hour#i n e v e r struggle to not cry as thoroughly as that#even when my fuckin grandma died i managed to get through my classes without crying. and then cried when i got home lol#but i just couldnt Not. she was so fucking awful to me.#and yes we 'made up' aka sent apology messages for shit. but imma b real im the type who never forgives and never forgets.#if you truly wrong me im gonna b YEARS down the line. remember u. and be momentarily filled with contempt b4 moving on#i dont care if youve apologized lol. my blood is made for malice.#not gonna let it rule my life but UGH anytime im reminded of her i just get so angry.#dont ask me what the other top rankings are bc i dont know lol#these r just the ppl that have personally slighted me. and so they are in my stink book indefinitely.
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officialrovix · 2 years
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220330 N’s Instagram Update | © achahakyeon
오늘의 기록_20220330 🎞 Today's Record_20220330 🎞
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bestbonnist · 2 years
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Chapter 162.2
First page:
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She's heard their "true identity".
Last page:
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Even though the shape of it has changed, their bond continues.
To be continued next time.
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wickedhawtwexler · 2 years
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i'm almost done with this take home assignment for one of the jobs i'm interviewing for fuck yeahhhh
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mxdotpng · 10 months
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i hate my fucking fatherrr im going INSANE here
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proteuus · 11 months
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had the weirdest realization and the worst idea at the same time
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mothpile · 1 year
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im  so distraguth theres another webcomic called going home  im so sad i remember looking up “going home webcomic” back when i ewas first naming mine and nothing came up so ithought iw as in th clear  this is so sad  please make goinghomecomic on tumblrthe most popular
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