#ezra's journal entries

[ezraxmp]

The Weight of Darkness | Self-para + poem

As the days got darker, so did Ezra's thoughts. The nights were cold, their heart colder.

The poet had tried. Really tried to be a functioning member of society. For months, they've gone to university. They even have a job. Suppressing the demons' whispers of doubt and distress. They have tried.

The whispers became shouts, unable to be drawn out. Panic attacks were almost a daily occurrence, and the demigod was tired; the voices won.

As Halloween approached, the demigod had ultimately stopped leaving their apartment. They were excited for the holiday; they even had their costume ready. Halloween was the only night the Egyptian demigod was allowed to dress without expectation. They were allowed to be. But their mind had grown too heavy for the young enby to get out of bed. So they didn't.

Why be, if you could simply not.

Ezra's room had become one with the shadows. The curtains drawn, shutting out the world. They lay there, wrapped in their thoughts, haunted by the relentless parade of despair that seemed to march endlessly through their mind.

Their heart felt like a lead weight in their chest, the world outside growing dimmer with each passing day. It was as if the demons had built thick walls around them, cutting them off from the world.

The outside world beckoned, offering a chance to be free, to celebrate the holiday in all its vibrant, chaotic glory. But Ezra couldn't muster the strength to answer the call. Instead, they lay in the quiet darkness of their room, waiting for the whispers to subside, for the storm to pass.

In the stillness of the room, the demigod fought with their own thoughts, trying to find a glimmer of hope, a reason to step out of the shadows and back into the world. But for now, they simply existed, in the fragile space between being and not being, waiting for the weight to lift, even if just for a moment.

Death would've been easier then whatever life this is For in death I won't feel the agony of existence the suffering of the soul the heartbreak, the trauma, the regret Death would've been easier for in death I will not feel

[edgeoftheeclipse]

Ezra's Journal, Entry 1

My uncle Ezra kept many journals as a child. His very last one spanned nearly 56 years (almost 3/4 of his life) and yet has very few entries for that entire period. This is the first entry in that final journal. October 7th, 1967

Our hunting trip has gone surprisingly well! Two deer, a pair of rabbits, and a goose that was unlucky enough to wander in front of a stray bullet. Grandpa was shocked to the point of laughter. He says the game is never usually good in this part of Maryland this early in the fall. We roasted the goose and had it for supper. Afterwards, Grandpa tried to scare me with ghost stories, especially the one from the old country about Domnule Slab, but I just laughed. I'm seventeen, not a little kid. He seemed disappointed that I wasn't scared. I'm nearly a full grown man; set to graduate next year and work at the grocers. I simply don't get scared by things like that anymore. We sat under the starlight and talked about the future for a few hours. Grandpa Nikolai and I argued. He thinks I should go to college and make something of myself. I tell him "No, Grandpa. I have an offer to work at the grocer's. If I go to college, who's going to take care of Mom and baby Julia?" He says Julia's not a baby. She's twelve, she can look after Mom. I say that Julia has to go to school. She can't stay home alone with Mom. Especially considering Mom's illness, which is why she can't work.

He said something about how his father didn't emigrate to America with nothing but the clothes on his back and spend three years confined to Ellis Island just for me to waste my life working at a grocery store. I got angry and told him that if he'd actually helped Mom with her medical bills instead of bickering with her constantly, I wouldn't HAVE to work at the grocery store, and we wouldn't have had to sell the house either. I think I was unfair. I mean, it's not his fault Dad left. We got by just fine for twelve years without Grandpa's money, and my job at the grocer's will be enough to pay for Mom's medicine. It will be fine.

I do love Grandpa Nikolai. Honestly. I'll apologize in the morning, we both need time to cool off. October 8th, 1:37 AM

Something just moved outside my tent. I thought it was a bear, but it wasn't. It was Grandpa He got out of his tent and went over to the campfire. Then he took the bones of the goose and put them in his bag. He was crying. I've never seen Grandpa cry before. He was mumbling things under his breath, then he grabbed one of the deer and dragged it away. I've never seen him act like this before. I'm going to follow him. I have to make sure he's okay. October 8th, 2:19 AM

Where is he going? We've been walking for almost and hour. Twice he's sat down. Both times he sat on a rock and cried. Just sat there and bawled like a baby. It was so... unnerving. Now he's standing by a river, just staring into the water, I really don't know what to think. He's acting like Mom does when she has one of her fits. Wait... He's gone. October 8th, 2:49 AM

I can't find Grandpa Nikolai, or the camp. I'm irritated, confused, and worried. If I could just find the camp, I could hike back to the main road and catch a ride to the police station. But my compass is screwed up. Its keeps spinning in a circle. I'm surprised my watch is even working. I keep hearing things. It's probably just the wind, and my nerves, but I could have sworn I heard someone calling "Help me, I'm lost." I need to calm down and look for Grandpa. October 8th, 3:00 AM I FOUND HIM MEUM FATUM OBSIGNATUM October 9th, 11:00 AM

I didn't sleep last night. I may never sleep again. They found Grandpa Nikolai. He's comatose. That may be for the best. Mom had a fit last night. Scared Julia pretty badly. She had some kind of hallucination. Screaming, throwing plates. I'm done journaling. I'm never touching this thing again. I haven't slept all night. I may never sleep again. Yesterday upon the stair I met a man who wasn't there He wasn't there again today I wish I wish he'd go away

If Grandpa Nikolai never wakes up, it'll be too soon by half. I told the police that he wandered off and I got lost looking for him. It's half the truth. I'm going to lock this journal in a box and bury it. Then I'm going to forget about all of this. I'm never journaling again. I'm never going near the woods again. Goodbye- Ezra Vrajal Melchior My Thoughts Ezra never told me about this camping trip. I've never heard about it, before. I've never heard about this Julia person, either- as far as I knew, Grandma Donna's only children were my mother, Judy and Uncle Ezra. Mom died giving birth to me, so I can't ask her about any of this. As far as I know, Great-grandpa Nikolai died after experiencing a stroke that left him in a coma for years. Grandma Donna had schizophrenia, or something very like it, and ended up being put in a psychiatric hospital (they weren't big on mental health back in the 70's D:) where she later committed suicide. I'm surprised about how afraid he seems at the end of this entry. Uncle Ezra never seemed scared of the forest when he, me, Wyatt, and Jace went camping. I wonder why?

The crossed out poem lines are from Antigonish by Hughes Mearnes, and the Latin roughly translates to "My fate is sealed." Very ominous.

I also can't help but wonder about the reference to "Domnule Slab" in the earlier part of the entry. It's a Romanian name, and my family has both Romanian and Russian ancestry, so that's nothing weird. The strange part is how peculiar the phrase is: Domnule Slab roughly translates to "Mister Skinny." Or... Or Mister Lean.

[wannab-urs]

Outtakes - Gin's Faves

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Here's a list I never thought I'd draw attention to: my favorite fics. I don't like leaving people out, so I never intended to make this an outtake. I'm posting this to show you all why I love this fandom. I've read well over 600 fics now, and sometimes they stick with me. I have no rhyme or reason for why a fic makes this list, but these are fics that drew me deeper into the fandom or reminded me why I love fic so much. I hope this has the intended effect. I'm not trying to hurt anyone's feelings by leaving them off, I'm trying to highlight some fics that altered my brain chemistry. Anyway, I'm rambling so... without further ado, here are my favorite fics.

Seams Joel Series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Consent Dieter Series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Grays Frankie Series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Palomino Jack Series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

starstruck Dieter series by @ezrasbirdie

I Think of You Din Series by @prolix-yuy

Sex Worker!Frankie AU Frankie Series by @prolix-yuy

Stay on the Screenplay Dieter series by jazzelsaur (AO3)

Psychomanteum Dieter Series by @whatsnewalycat

In an Instant Joel one shot by @mishasminion360

In the Dark Ezra Series by @frannyzooey

Celestial Navigation Dieter Series by @write-and-buried

All our candles are burned out Dieter/Frankie one shot by @psychedelic-ink

I Only See Daylight Din Series by @millersdjarin

A Little Lipstick Never Hurts Max P/Dieter series spacegayofficial (AO3)

Losing My Religion Din Series by @oonajaeadira

Between the Raindrops Frankie Series by Jazzelsaur (AO3)

A Girl Walks Into A Bookshop Ezra Series by @oonajaeadira

Step Dad!Joel Joel series by @toxicanonymity

Cognitave Dissonance Jack Series by @prolix-yuy

Good. Things. Take. Time. Pedro ATS Series by @oonajaeadira

Hokaanir Riduurok Din one shot by @proxima-writes

buried Jack series by @something-tofightfor

Pretend Alleyways Dieter/Marcus M series by @radiowallet

Of Gorgons and Gardens Din/Ezra series by @concussed-to-pieces

Beskar Doll Din series by @justagalwhowrites

A Savage Place Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Feral Woman Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Mr. Miller joel series by @tremendum

I know it when I see it Joel series by @bageldaddy

Be-All and Endor Din series by @djarins-cyare

Sundown Joel one shot by @bageldaddy

Notes on Tutoring Dave York series by @honestly-shite

Deliver Me From Nowhere Joel series by @atinylittlepain

When My Time Comes Around Joel series by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Cosmic Oddities Din/Joel series by fromthewhales (AO3)

I'll Leave a Light On For You Max Phillips one shot by @oonajaeadira

The Infinity Cube Marcus P/Various series by @littlemisspascal

Somewhere Beautiful Din series by @peetiespetals

the dress Dave York series by @janaispunk

Ezra's Journal Entries Ezra series by @littlemisspascal

Cabuorir Oberyn/Din series by ToricTailor (AO3)

[icarusalchemist]

i’m re-reading illuminae again and i always get smacked in the face by just how brutal it is. by page five, you’ve already got ezra saying he was walking over the dead bodies of his classmates during the evacuation of his high school.

and one of the things i love is the ways grief is dealt with. ezra deals with his dad dying by acting like he’s still alive, just not present. one of the substitute therapists mentions how he still refers to his dad in the present tense.

then kady deals with her mom’s death by.. not talking about it. her mom dies on the copernicus when it’s nuked, and her name is buried amidst the list of copernicus casualties, but unless you know, there’s no reason to think to look for her name. but kady alludes to her mom’s death in her journal entries, when she says “there’s nothing around me that’s known anymore.” in the same entry she talks about a group counseling member who broke down with the weight of all of her family’s deaths, and kady doesn’t mention her mom. she wonders how she’ll break if the weight gets too much, mentions her cousin that died on kerenza, but not her mom, who she knew was aboard the copernicus. her mom was there, then she wasn’t. and now there’s nothing known to kady. but she still doesn’t talk about it.

[incorrectpizza]

Hah. So. The one-shot I posted the first day of @sabezraweek? It's uh. Not a one-shot anymore. Behold, the sequel, in which Sabine discovers a record of Ezra's time on Peridea:

Story also down below for anyone who wants to read here.

Ezra’s pod is small, but as Sabine explores it, it almost feels cavernous. There’s things everywhere.

A stockpile of dried and cured foods that the Noti taught him to preserve. Weapons he made from whatever he could salvage: stormtrooper blasters and rifles, wood, a strange metal that the Noti used that never grew cold , even on the rare days when the weather grew sour. And there are books. Made from some sort of animal skin, if her hunch is correct. Stitched together with thin, sinewy thread, pages surprisingly sturdy. 

The first one she finds, sitting on a ledge next to the pod’s tiny, Noti-sized second bed, is  a book of Noti bedtime stories. 

“Youongling’s Fables, A Collection of Noti stories as transcribed by Ezra Bridger.”

There’s a total of three charming little tales, each one accompanied by a symbol - some small splash of color signaling the beginning of a new story. Sabine studies them carefully. One is a simple  green circle with uneven splotches throughout - a planet? Another, a silhouette of a Howler, deep navy blue, just a hint brighter and more saturated than Ezra’s hair. The third, though, catches her breath. It’s a Jedi symbol. She reads this story first. 

It’s about the first Jedi to meet the Noti - not Ezra, but some old man in the distant past. The man died protecting the Noti from The Great Mother, a corrupted Force being the Jedi sentenced to ten thousand years of captivity in the mountains. Did this have anything to do with Baylan’s search? His quest for power? Sabine wonders, setting aside the book. She’ll show it to Ahsoka when she gets back from the hunt.

On Ezra’s little workbench, she finds three more books: all blank, waiting for words to fill them. Near the hatch, alongside a few odd “pots” and “pans,” she finds a “cookbook.” It has a dozen recipes, from “Noti Stew DO NOT EAT” to “Peridean Loth-Pie” to “Actually Edible Noti Soup.” She chuckles a bit and makes a mental note to show Ahsoka this one, too. Maybe they can find something that they can stomach once their ration bars are finished. 

And then, as she’s straightening up the other side of the sleeping quarters, she finds two books sitting by Ezra’s bed. The first one she picks up is a “journal.” Each entry is printed in small Aurebesh - so small Sabine puts on her helmet to magnify the words. Ezra must’ve learned quickly that books are harder to make than they look, Sabine muses.

The first page proclaims the book “Jedi Padawan Ezra Bridger’s Journal of A Galaxy Far, Far Away, Volume Five. Noti Nomadic Village, Peridea. Approximately 10 years after the Liberation of Lothal.”

Each page has multiple entries, almost but not quite daily. Most are mundane, ordinary. Sabine reads every single word of every single entry.

“Day 3,547. Jynt and I came up with a new way to attach the ropes to the pods today. Moving them is going to be a lot easier now.” Always ingenious.

“Day 3,574. I discovered a new species today. A little purple and orange caterpillar. I hereby dub it Sabineus Wrennius .” Sabine laughs and flips the page. 

“Day 3,631. I got to scare two night troopers today.” Still a prankster.

“Day 3,650. I really want to go home.” Sabine closes her eyes and sighs. He’s home now, she knows. She should be happy. And yet-

She wishes he were with her. Here. Or home. She misses him deeply, and it’s only been seventeen cycles. She finishes the book, which breaks off mid-entry. 

“Day 3,674. Nothing excitin-”

Was that when he heard my Howler in the distance? Sensed me in the Force? Or was he interrupted on another day and just never bothered to finish?

She closes the book, vowing to ask him one day about that last entry.

Then she opens the second book, the one tucked underneath. It’s tied shut with a thick cord.

She unties it and flips it open. The first page declares in bold orange letters “PROPERTY OF EZRA BRIDGER.”

“Do not look unless you are Ezra.”

Then, underneath, in small scrawl she can hardly read: “Or Sabine.”

Or Sabine? She furrows her brow, wondering what could be so important that Ezra didn’t want anyone reading it, and why she was the exception. Gently, her fingers grasp the edge of the page. 

It’s full of… starbirds?

A dozen of her symbols lie in front of her. Some sketches, others paintings. Their colors vary brilliantly, from blue to purple to green to (yes, of course ) orange. She flips the page again. More starbirds. But not just starbirds. This page also has a Jedi symbol, more crude than the one Sabine had found earlier, and an Imperial crest - crossed out with red, of course. 

As the pages go on, there’s less and less starbirds and more other symbols. Kanan’s Jaig-eyed mask. The patterns from Hera’s lekku. Zeb’s Bo-Rifle. Her helmet.

His drawings grow more detailed, more artistic as the book goes on until, by the middle, he’s got a definite, recognizable style. In the second half, he grows brave enough to try sketching them, their little family, as he remembered them. Hera and Kanan holding hands. Zeb scowling. Sabine flying around Mandalore, broad smile as she shows off her jetpack. Chopper arguing with AP-5. There are a few details off here and there - in one group sketch, her hair is too long and Ezra himself is not wearing orange, an unforgivable creative liberty, especially considering just how shockingly accurate and real the painting looks. 

It’s the very last image of the book, though, that nearly takes Sabine’s breath away. It’s them, hugging, foreheads pressed together in a keldabe kiss. The background - he painted a background? - has some vague, abstract Noti pods. The Ghost hangs in the sky, and Sabine thinks she might even spot Ahsoka’s ship on the ground. In the distance, a white Loth-Wolf looks on. Her fingers hover, desperate to trace the lines, but not wanting to risk damaging the precious painting. Underneath, there’s a title.

Someday Soon .

The next page has no art. Just words. 

Sabine, I hope you never have to read this. I hope I’m here when you come. But just in case, I want to thank you. For always being there for me. For teaching me about life, and art, and how to be a good friend. I couldn’t have made it this long without you. Even more than I ever realized, I love you.

Sabine hurriedly shuts the book before her tears can mar the pages. 

[eternallovestudios]

Here's a closer look at some of our Digital Tier Rewards!

The Chronicles of Us

An interactive journal where you can learn the inner thoughts of your fated while experiencing his route. Learn his thoughts, worries, emotions, and desires throughout the route. After each entry, you'll have the option to add your own thoughts and feelings about that same moment!

The Library of Love-Baking Cookbook

Learn the secrets to your fated and your Remoire friends' favorite dishes! In this cookbook, you'll also have adorable (and some spicy) company on the various recipe pages!

Marris loves to bake! Lance love to cook! Ezra has a few signature dishes up his sleeve. Shiro... Well.... He tries! There's also a whole host of other characters that you haven't yet met that will be happy to share their secret recipes (with just you).

Shattered Souls Official Artbook

Lose yourself in the beautiful Shattered Souls universe with this beautifully illustrated artbook. Learn about the development process that goes into bringing your fated to you! See concept art, initial drafts, sketches, and the inspirations behind your favorite characters and illustrated moments!

Starlight Whispers

Are you a fan of 18+ content? Do you like delving into the spicy side with your fated? If so, this journal is for you! Starlight Whispers is filled with sweet intimate moments that vary in intimacy. From sweet, almost pure encounters to very sensual nights of bliss! You'll learn all the secrets of your fated!

You can check out these digital rewards and more on our Kickstarter page!

[bigstupid69]

Heya! I read your cryptid Jane fic and I have some questions cause I already love it so far

1 are any of the choir members going to die?

2 is Jane more like a windigo?

3 are we ever going to hear from Tammy?

4 I know you said no ships but is there any implied ones in the choir? Like Nischa?

5 are the journal entries from Ezra going to be out of order? Or more coherent

6 Who's the one in the most danger at the moment (don't have to answer this if it spoils things)

7 is karnak and Virgil mentioned at all?

that's all!! You can answer in a yes or no format for most of these

1. Yes

2. Kinda, don't want to appropriate anything since that's another native spirit that was whitewashed

3. Yes

4. You are not going to like the answer about Nischa

5. Definitely not out of order but I am going to change some of the timeline to be a week instead of a month to make more logical seane

6. Ocean

7. Probably not

[prolix-yuy]

For the ask thing:

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Three?! ONLY THREE?! There are so many! Okay, I'm going to list three of the writer mutuals I've followed the longest, with the stipulation that there are so many excellent writers out there that I swoon over daily:

@brandyllyn: I have been in love with many of her stories, but it's the way she writes quietly devastating characters that draws me in. I know if I want to read something hauntingly beautiful, heart-wrenching and sharply unique, I just need to peruse her masterlist. Some of my favorites: Innocence need not tremble, Dreams are sweet until they’re not, To perish twice.

@mandosmistress: I fell in love with so many of her Din stories, and she was one of the first people to ever comment on one of mine! Her prose is clean and tight without being rushed, her smut is immaculate, and I am in awe of how many nuanced emotions she can make me feel while also making me incredibly horny for whoever she's writing for. Some of my favorites: Tattoo My Heart, First Class to Tatooine, The Afterlife of Javier Peña

@littlemisspascal: What can I say that hasn't been said before? A true treasure to this fandom! The most amazing curator of the Pedro Library aside, her stories fill me with so much wonder and joy. Half the time I feel like I'm in a fairytale and the other half I'm giddy with excitement over where she's leading me. Some of my favorites: Ezra's Journal Entries, The Fox, The Mage, and The Cupboard, Love Triangles

Can I tell you a little secret too nonnie? One of my favorite things is to talk about the other writers I adore in this fandom. I've actually had a little project on the backburner that's about just that, and since I'm on hiatus this month I might dip back into planning...thank you for the inspiration!

[gemmahale]

Talk Shop Tuesday: Have you ever considered writing a fic in a different format? Like not in a novel (I think that's what it's called) format. Some examples: - texts between characters - emails between characters - an AlTA post - a screenplay - letters between two characters If you have written a fic in a non-novel format, what was the hardest part about it? What was the most fun part?

Hi! Gemma! Hope you're doing great!

Hi Tats! 💚💚

I actually have a chapter/section of a chapter (designation depends on where I cut it for publciation) of Call of the Wild where Shannon and Kyle are sexting each other.

Shannon's at her uncle and uncle's house, Kyle's on base. It alternates between text messages and image descriptions they send to each other. And it's STEAMY. Probably one of my favorite smutty scenes I've written in a while.

Journal Exchange is also meant to be a story told via journal entries/letters sent between Ezra and Geena as they settle into their careers across the universe. But that's more just a concept than tangible than anything at this point. (And if you haven't seen the film Prospect, I highly recommend doing so.)

[ezraxmp]

Happy Death Day | Selfpara

The one year anniversary of the death of Ezra’s soul. Nov. 6 2023; 2:22am

TW// Sleep paralysis

In the deep silence of the night, Ezra's room was cloaked in shadows. The dim glow of the moon outside barely penetrated the thick curtains, casting patterns on the walls. Ezra had struggled to sleep for hours, their mind a labyrinth of memories and worries.

Finally, exhaustion had claimed them, and they drifted into an uneasy slumber.

2:22 am

Ezra’s eyes flickered open to be immediately met with a dark figure looming over them, pinning them down. The presence was faceless, but Ezra knew exactly who he was. One of the demons that took their life a year ago. Here to finish the job.

Panic began to rise within them as the room seemed to close in. Voices echoed through the room. Deafening, demonic whispers; loud, yet no words were recognizable. They could imagine, though.

Ezra's mind raced, trying to call out for help, but no words escaped their lips. They tried to scream, but their voice was nothing more than a whisper inside their mind. A whimper. A wheeze. They were trapped, alone with their thoughts, their fears, and the haunting images that flickered in the dim room. It was as if their vocal cords had deserted them, leaving them in a state of silent desperation.

The minutes dragged on like hours and the shadows in the room seemed to dance with an eerie life of their own. The poet’s breath go heavier each passing moment. Ezra's heart continued to hammer in their chest as they struggled against the invisible restraints that held them in place.

It was a torment that seemed to last forever, until finally, as suddenly as it had begun, sleep's grip loosened, and they slowly regained control of their body. With a gasp, they jolted upright, drenched in sweat, their heart still pounding.

Then, they cried. They cried, until dawn broke.

[ezrauriah]

hello. im ezra and i made a blog cause i want to store all my journal entries here? or at least the more notable or well-written ones... as well as thought pieces.

im 21 and i'm a writer :]] i think i am

[wannab-urs]

March Fic Madness 24 Masterlist

The goal was to read and reblog 63 fics in the month of March. I messed with the rules a bit and, instead of adding each chapter I read or any masterlists I reblogged, I only included fics I've read most if not all of.

Thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for organizing this challenge!

Current count: 63/63

Fics I read in their entirety + reblogged

Dave York

Constellations in his eyes by @janaispunk

The Mess of Us and What Love Means by @ravensmadreads

Dieter Bravo

Fare Well, A Poor Plan to Confess, and Brick House by @nerdieforpedro

Stay Sexy and Don't Get Murdered and Vampire!Dieter by @chronically-ghosted 

Conversation Pit by @thosewickedlovelies

Working Title by @rhoorl

The One and Purple Haze by @schnarfer

House Arrest by @rulexofxnines

The Howler Monkey by @covetyou

On the Verge of a Usual Mistake and The Blossoms We Wear by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Din Djarin

A Shade That's New by FallenFern (AO3)

Repent your sins, Punish me, Officer Djarin, Immortal By Design, Enchanted to Meet You, and His Living Fleshlight, by @beskarandblasters 

I Don't Mind Bleeding by @quicksilvermad

Cabuorir by ToricTailor (AO3)

Lush by @the-scandalorian

Ezra

Ezra's Journal Entries by @littlemisspascal

Hello to the Green by @the-blind-assassin-12

To Tell You the Truth - by @concussed-to-pieces

Sanguine by @marisferasiop

Frankie Morales

Tick and Right on Cue by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

midnight strikes, where is my prince by @undercoverpena

Routine by @endlessthxxghts

Paint With Me by @bitchesuntitled

Jack Daniels

Cherry Wine by @julesonrecord

Joel Miller

Angsty Joel Drabble by @ozarkthedog

Inhale, Exhale by @sp00kymulderr

Tear You Apart by @mermaidgirl30

Does Your Mother Know and I want it, I got it by @beskarandblasters

The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To by @freelancearsonist

amateur by @ezrasbirdie

Run Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites

you're mine, little dove by @mountainsandmayhem

Dress Up Joel by @covetyou

He Knows by @psychedelic-ink

Linger On by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Mine by gasolinerainbowpuddles

Javi Gutierrez

Door Number Three by @morallyinept

Javier Peña

Relájate, hermosa by @beskarandblasters

gonna make you sweat by @mypoisonedvine

Go Your Own Way by @schnarfer

Some fools fool themselves by @freelancearsonist

Dámelo by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Lucien Flores

On the Verge of a Usual Mistake and The Blossoms We Wear by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Marcus Moreno

12:32 PM by @dancingtotuyo

Marcus Pike

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by @whataperfectwasteoftime

In shades of gray and candlelight by @freelancearsonist

headshots by @secretelephanttattoo

The Infinity Cube by @littlemisspascal

Oberyn Martell

Given a Name by @missredherring

Cabuorir by ToricTailor (AO3)

Pero Tovar

Innocence Need Not Tremble by @brandyllyn

Tim Rockford

some good friend by @covetyou

Various (but not at the same time)

A Baker's Dozen by @avastrasposts

[pickledpascal]

Love Through the Years

Relationship: Benoit Blanc x Ezra Wayne

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Ezra recounts his past lovers and what they meant to him. Think of it as something he would write in a journal or something like that.

Lucas was the first boy I’ve ever kissed. He had spikey blond hair with blue eyes, fair skin, and was much taller than me at the time. His expression was usually neutral around me, if not, a bit weary. I never found out why. He was probably the best at hiding his emotions and we were only thirteen. He kissed me while we were in 8th grade and I’m sure it was out of pity. I was hopelessly pining after him since 6th grade, it felt like an eternity even though it was really only a few years. 

“What do you even write in there?” I had a journal I used to bring to school, almost every day. I’d written way too many entries about Lucas in there. Embarrassing, really, but I was also a child so that’s expected. Although, it was idiotic of me to show it in front of Lucas.

With a flush on my cheeks, I quickly averted my eyes from his. “Things.” I kept it vague but I think he knew. I was pretty easy to read.

Now, I realize it might’ve been his first kiss too. We were both so unsure of what to do. How to start, how to continue, how to end–it was awkward. I think I just walked away with a bright flush on my cheeks. The kiss itself might’ve been horrible but first kisses weren’t really meant to be good or particularly life-changing. Just a way to get someone started.

Afterwards, Lucas barely looked at me. Less than he did before. He was one of those popular kids and I was that dorky, quiet girl who only talked to a select group of people. Usually like me. I wonder what little Elizabeth, who liked order and believed every word her parents said, would think of Ezra. She probably wouldn’t believe what she’d turn into, but I know she’d look at me with a bit of envy among all that confusion. 

I met Will in my Freshman year of college. He was sweet and would have made a great long-term partner but I knew he wasn’t looking for that. Me neither. Not purposefully anyway. He was fun and his exterior reflected that. Will had brown curls, a septum piercing, and a wide smile that seemed to never leave his lips. He was shorter than me but he didn’t seem to care. With the light dusting of stubble on his chin, he seemed more dog than human. 

He was the first to offer me a joint, which I accepted. The first to offer me alcohol too. Oh, I was such a rebel for an eighteen year old.

He’s also the first I’ve ever had sex with.

It wasn’t the best, mainly on my part I think. It was my first time. I’m sure I was confused, mostly in my own head. This was around the same time I started to realize things about myself that I haven’t ever thought about before. Nothing I would do anything about until later.

“Do you always have to take my clothes?” Will walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His shirt was missing because I stole it.

I shrugged, trying to seem innocent. I was wearing the shirt he was searching for. “I’d say they’re mine now.” I wore them a lot more than he did. His closet was starting to get bare with all the tops I stole from him. 

I’m sure he knew the real reason but our relationship didn’t last long enough for him to bring it up. He probably wouldn’t have cared anyway. He was the “free love” type. 

Then there was Jason. He had jet black hair and deep brown eyes that seemed maroon in some lighting. Should’ve been my first warning against him. We were about the same height, he might’ve been a few inches shorter than me. When we started dating, I had just graduated college and he was a few years older than me. We met through work. I had an internship at a newspaper room and he was one of the journalists there. Eventually, I’d be hired there. 

“Hi, I’m Jason. I’ll be showing you around.” He’d stuck out his hand for me to shake, eyes raking up and down my body. 

I was naive and didn’t notice. I thought maybe he was just sizing me up or something, seeing if I was what he was expecting. “Hi.” I gave him a warm smile, “My name’s Lizzie. Nice to meet you.” And it was. In the moment.

He was sweet at first, taking me out almost every Friday and bringing me flowers. As time went on, I became more and more aware of what he wanted from me. He liked me all dolled up but that wasn’t truly me. Maybe he could tell, maybe he couldn’t. I can’t say for sure. With each date we went on, he’d push himself onto me more comfortably than the last. With Will, it was different. At least he was honest about it. 

Jason was a manipulative little whore. 

I broke it off when I knew he wouldn’t change. It was hard, but worth it. I got a job at a different news room because I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone unless I did. Shortly after we broke up, I took a pregnancy test. It came back positive. 

Well, fuck. I was going to be a single mom. 

Since Jason, I took a small break from having any sort of romantic relationships. I needed to create a support system, for both me and my newborn child. My friend from college, Andi, had become something like a second mother for Elle. As the years went by and Elle’s brain became more developed enough to form a coherent thought, I was less worried about her and was able to see potential matches a bit clearer. 

That’s how I started dating Sam. He was the quiet, shy type that reminded me a lot of myself when I was younger. He had a lean form with straight, ginger hair and was a few years younger than me. 

Most of the time, he let me take the lead in the relationship. Probably because he was too shy to even attempt to try to take the lead. Or maybe he was too intimidated by me. But I was grateful for it as my last relationship ended with my partner having more power over me. 

“Do you want to go out this Saturday? I know I’m free, what about you?” It was later in the evening with Elle in her room, asleep, while me and Sam sat a little too closely on the couch together. 

Sam shrugged, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Whatever you want.” So that was a yes.

I think it says something about me that the last relationship I had before even accepting the fact that I was a man was with a naturally feminine man. It seemed right then and there, I decided I would never date a twink again.

Perhaps Sam helped me see the light. 

After I transitioned fully, Elle was about fifteen and my career as an actor was blossoming far better than I could have ever imagined. 

Through my job, I met Qrow. He was a “bad boy” actor with a reputation for being a womanizer. I couldn’t blame him. If I looked like him, I would want to take it to my advantage too. He had dark hair with a few grays at his temples, his eyes were a deep brown that almost looked black. He had a deep, gravelly voice and, paired with his stubble, made him look gruff. 

The public were a bit wrong in one area. Qrow always left his options open. 

He was smoking a cigarette while he watched me put on a shirt. He remained in just a pair of boxers, perched at the edge of his bed. “Y’know, I think I preferred you with it off.” Yeah, I loved his voice. One of the only things I missed about him.

“You prefer me with nothing on.” A teasing smile formed on my face as I straightened up the shirt on my new chest. Qrow was the first lover to ever see it. Perhaps that’s why he stuck in my mind the most. 

Qrow and I didn’t last too long. I didn’t expect it to. We didn’t end with an argument which was refreshing after Jason. It was mutual. No hard feelings. I have to say, for the first relationship I’ve ever had as a man, I’m glad it was Qrow. He was a good boyfriend. When he wasn’t drinking his life away.

Jasper had moved to the US from Spain, he told me as such when we met. He was a fan of mine and was probably quite a few years younger than me. He never told me but he looked young with no wrinkles around his eyes and hardly any grays in his hair. I couldn’t say the same for myself. He had black waves that framed his face nicely with a pair of hazel eyes and tanned skin. He looked like the season he came in. 

Our relationship was meant to be fleeting. It was meant to last one summer but it surprised me when it lasted two. I became comfortable with him. Too comfortable.

Big mistake.

He broke up with me with a text. The one time I was not only so incredibly affected by the fact that someone broke up with me, but the way he did it. A text message. Such a coward's way out. I sulked for weeks. 

At nineteen, Elle let out a laugh when I told her. “You’re emotional about a young man? I always thought you liked men your age, dad.” I knew she’d tease me. She had a special… interest in making fun of me. Which I couldn’t complain about, I did the same to her. 

“I usually do.” A huff escaped my nose as I prepared the breakfast we would eat that morning. 

I took quite the break with relationships. Won a few accolades for my acting and, honestly, hadn’t thought about dating in a while. I was focused on being a father to my child and my work. 

Until Benoit came along. 

Elle and I met him at the same time. She almost immediately gave me her blessing to date him and perhaps give her another father. Benoit had light brown hair–almost blond–with grays at his temples and vibrant blue eyes framed by orange glasses. He was quite a bit shorter than me but it didn’t seem to bother him. He had all the traits of a typical southern gentleman: the way he dressed, his choice of words–it’s cute how he curses without ever really saying a curse word–and, of course, the accent.

Elle did always say I had a thing for accents. I like to think it’s because I grew up in the suburbs of the midwest and there wasn’t much variety in how people said things. 

Benoit came crashing into my world. It was safe to say I wasn’t letting this one go now that I’d found him. He’d practically already adopted my child as his own, I couldn’t have asked for more. Each “darlin’” just made me fall harder and harder. 

“It’s okay, darlin’. You’re alright.”

“Well, hello there, darlin’.”

“It’s four in the afternoon, darlin’.”

“I have no clue as to what you’re talkin’ about, darlin’.”

Yeah, something about it… Something about him… I know he’s it for me. Elle knows it too. She always has this smug look in her eyes after Benoit and I say something even mildly flirtatious to one another. I think she knew way before I even asked him to live with us. Elle probably knew as soon as we arrived in Greece. Some sort of spidey-sense or something. 

Benoit is the only one out of all my lovers that I could ever imagine living the rest of my life with and we met when I was well into my forties. He’s everything I could have ever asked for. Kind, compassionate, attractive, a nice father figure for Elle, affectionate, great in bed, blond, shorter than me, hopelessly in love with me, and hilarious. I’m sure I’m forgetting things but I’m not the best at making lists. 

It seems like every day I realize I’m in love with him. Not the fleeting type of love I might be used to. Something constant and immovable. Something that’s not meant to be rushed. As each day passes, Benoit is still with me. And I think he might never leave. I want to make it permanent. More permanent than it is. In the eyes of others, I’m still fair game without a ring. And so’s he. Perhaps I should make some arrangements.

I hear wedding bells sound the best in Spring.

[icarusalchemist]

kady journal entries about her mom part however many: “part of me wants to crawl under the covers and stay there. wait for someone to tell me what to do. wait for a grown-up. but nobody’s coming.” ft the prior: “without my north, how do i know what to do?”

on this reread i finally wonder how much of kady’s return to ezra actually included feelings for him and how much was seeking what little she could have from home, knowing her mom is dead?

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries Masterlist

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine.

---

Ezra recovers after the events of the film with the aid of a journal and the love of his life.

Entries

Ezra x F!Reader

#1-3 : Once More Into the Starry Sea // Dandelions // Written for Him

You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe.

#4-6 : Little Golden Child // Another Me Another You // Forgive Me

Somewhere, there is another me who never escapes the ruthlessness of the Green and breathes my last with Inumon’s knife in my lungs. Another me who will never know the emotional and physical anguish that accompanies the loss of a limb. Another me who pulls the thrower’s trigger without hesitation, firing a shot between the wide eyes of an innocent girl. Another me who ignores the temptation of harvesting aurelac in hopes of making a reputable name for myself.

Somewhere, there is another me who ran away from another you.

#7-9 : Painless // Our Story // A Stupid Question

That’s the most terrifying thing about you, I think. You know every jagged piece of my story, and yet every morning I wake up to discover you’re still clinging onto me, skin to skin, soul to soul.

#10-12 : People We Never Talk About // Drift Away // Lullaby

I remember during the first few nights after I came home from the Green the way you fussed over the foam-patched stab wound on my stomach, worrying yourself to near-tears about the wet rattling sound in my lungs with every heaving breath. You developed the endearing habit of sleeping with your head on my chest, counting my heartbeats in favor of counting sheep.

Fanart/edits: 1

[razorsadness]

There we were, stoned, and I decided I had to play “Hour of Deepest Need” for her. We don’t love all the same music, but we do have enough of an overlap in our tastes that we turn each other onto new stuff quite often, and I knew she’d at least somewhat like that song because she’s a huge Bob Dylan fan and that song has a definite Dylan vibe to it. I played her the album version and she had the same reaction I’d had in the car. Oh, fuck. So after that, we found a live video of the song, and then we found another live video of it and we sat there watching it and sighing and swooning and getting teary-eyed and J. rolled his eyes at us. This is how she gets with music she loves, he said, as though that’s a bad thing. This is how I get with music I love, too, I said. You’d think, being a musician, he’d understand that kind of visceral reaction to music; truth be told I think he’s maybe a little jealous because she doesn’t react to his music that way. But we didn’t let his scorn bother us; we just kept listening to the song, talking about how sad and beautiful it is, how much longing is in it. I feel like I’m always longing for someone or something, she said, and I said Me too, lady, me too. It’s true, I am always longing. But, as my horoscope for September said: Luckily, you’ve reached that certain age when nothing needs to make sense anymore, and longing is itself a form of pleasure. Something is always far away.

[from a journal entry, 9/22/16]