#how am i typing these words out again

[didhewinkback]

ii most wanted

a post engagement road trip for the something old kids aka i cannot stop listening to this song and ended up writing 2k words of smut about it

word count: see above, warnings: see above

---

The wind was whipping through your hair, the sun streaming in through the windshield, old 70s rock on the radio. The leather of the car seat felt like it was sticking to every inch of your skin but you didn’t mind. The weed you smoked made everything move in slow motion, all your senses heightened. Everything feeling loose, easy, free. Your hand making waves out the window through the wind, up and down in an addictive pattern. 

A warm palm slides on your thigh, his thumb moving up and down before squeezing and you all but melt into the seat, turning to look at him. He smiles over at you before looking back at the wide, empty road. 

“Y’ good?” he asks, lips twitching up into a smile.

“So good,” you say back, laughter bubbling over your words, heart skipping when he laughs with you. You can’t pinpoint what’s funny and maybe nothing is. It’s just… everything feels so warm and right and real. You turn back to look out the window, marveling at the open roads, the way it's just you and him for miles.

“Look good like this.” he mumbles, voice barely audible over the wind.

“What, stoned?”

“Nooo,” he laughs, shaking his head, wide grin on his face as he looks you over once more. “Meant y’ look happy. Relaxed. Look nice with that ring on your finger.”

You hum, holding up your hand with said ring on it, thumb twisting over the band, back and forth, taking a moment to admire it in the light.

“It’s a good one, innit?” you say and you can see the way his eyes roll even behind his sunglasses but he still grabs your hand and pulls it towards his mouth, thumb brushing over the ring once before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Your man did good, huh?” he says, releasing your hand to slide his back on your thigh. You slide your hand into his hair and he preens, leaning into the touch. 

“Yeah, my man did.” you say and he squeezes your thigh, a soft smile on his lips as you rake your hand through his curls, taking your time to study his profile. The cut of his jaw, the line of the beard he’s been growing out. God, he’s nice to look at. He looks good behind the wheel, too,  the flex of his arm as he casually holds the steering wheel, legs splayed wide, his lips moving as he softly sings along to the radio.

You’re struck for a moment at the view, at this man you’ve loved for most of your life, at the ring he proposed to you with gleaming against his hair and you think you want to have this view for the rest of your life. To get to be by his side till the day you die. You can feel it wash over you, almost bowling you over. Knowing he wants the same.

Your hand slides down his hair, playing with the curls at the nape before resting on the back of his neck, his muscles jumping at the touch before you squeeze once and he hums in appreciation. A deep sound from the back of his throat and - oh. 

It’s been warm all day but you suddenly feel a rush of heat from the inside out. Your eye catches on a bead of sweat falling down the side of his neck, tracing along the tendons until it pools into the collar of his t-shirt and you’re suddenly parched, desperation flooding your veins, overwhelmed by the need to taste, to touch and be touched. You could blame the high but you know it’s him, it’s always him. 

You dig your thumb into the muscle where his shoulder meets his neck, the spot that’s always bothering him. His hand tightens on your thigh for a second before he groans when the muscle starts to give way under your touch. 

“Harry,” you choke out, your voice reedy and he hums in response. “Pull over.” 

He snaps his head to look at you, confused, before he does a double take, brows shooting up behind his sunnies as he reads what must be obvious need all over your face.

“Y’ serious?” he asks incredulously and you nod fervently, shifting in the seat. “Baby, we’re in –”

“The middle of nowhere, we haven’t seen anyone for miles.” you cut him off, quickly undoing your seatbelt and sliding over on the bench seat, ignoring his muttered “jesus” as you press so against his side, his arm going across your lap as a makeshift belt, hand gripping your outer thigh. His eyes flicking between the road and you and you can see the swallow he takes before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his neck, taking your time to kiss along the skin. 

You keep one hand on the back of his neck, the other sliding down the front of his shirt, twisting in the hem before teasing at the waistband of his jeans, sliding down to palm him, biting down on his neck when he inhales sharply.

“Please,” you mumble against his neck, squeezing him once more, his hips twitching up to chase the touch. “Unless you want to keep driving and I can just -” 

You go to duck your head down but he stops you, hand tight on your thigh as he sputters out a “crash the bloody car if you do that” that has you laughing into his neck.

“Jus’ hang on a mo’ - let me -” he can barely string a sentence together as he drives for a bit longer before pulling off the road onto where there’s a dip in the tall grass, in between two cypress trees. You watch as his shaky hands throw the car into park, waiting until he pulls the keys out of the ignition before you’re turning his head towards yours to capture his lips in a kiss that has him moaning into your mouth. 

You kiss him once, twice, three times before he’s pulling back, mumbling a “let me get these -” and pulling his sunglasses off and throwing them on the dash before his hand wraps around your neck to pull you back in. Your tongue darts out to lick at the seam of his lips before he’s opening up, the first touch of his tongue against yours wrenches a moan from the back of your throat. His hands move up and down your sides, squeezing occasionally before they slide to your hips, shifting you both until he’s in the middle of the seat as he pulls you into his lap.

You slide your hand up into his hair, getting a steady grip as you kiss him with everything you have. His hands feel like they’re everywhere, all at once, sliding up and down your sides before they slide around your back and down, grabbing a handful of your bum as his tongue glides over yours. Everything is warm, perfect heat as arousal pools in your stomach, slowly losing your mind with every drag of his lips.

He wrenches away from your mouth, panting as he catches his breath, his blown out eyes darting all over your face. 

“Want me so bad y’ made me stop the car, hm?” he teases and you’re not even thinking of a comeback before you’re nodding and leaning back in. 

You kiss him slowly, taking your time to lick into his mouth, goosebumps erupting at his soft moan, the way his hands grip you tighter, the high making you feel everything ten times deeper. He knows just where to touch you to make you sigh into his mouth, his hands sliding up and down your thighs before resting back on your arse, the other sliding up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s gentle until he’s not, squeezing hard and laughing against your lips when you bite down on his in retaliation. 

You lose yourselves in each other, each taking turns to take over, mouths and hands exploring as you please. It’s when he’s got his hand on the back of your neck, controlling the kiss with an expert flick of his tongue that you can’t help yourself and grind down against him. 

“That’s it,” he says when he pulls away, one hand falling to your hips to encourage their roll as he kisses along your jaw. “Go after it, baby.”

“Need you naked,” you whisper, pulling his head back up towards you to kiss him again. “Need you - backseat.” 

He nods, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before pulling away. You climb off him and gracelessly climb over the backseat, breathless with laughter when you watch him do the same. He cups your jaw, kissing you deeply before pulling away.

“Get naked,” he murmurs and you both pull your clothes off as quickly as possible, hands banging against the roof and sides of the car, grunts from when you accidentally kick each other as you’re pulling your jeans off. He makes to hover over you before you shake your head, pushing him back against the seat so he’s sitting up as you straddle him, feeling his hard length right against your core, his eyes wide as he looks up at you, his hand coming up you cup your cheek. 

“Baby - someone could see you.” he mumbles and you simply respond with a roll of your hips, making him bite down on his swollen lips, his hands sliding up your thighs and resting on your hips.

“Want them to,” you say, reaching down to curl your hand around him, pumping a few times to watch his neck go taut as you line him up with your center. “Want them to know I’m yours.”

“Jesus- fuck ,” he grunts out, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, his head tipping back to rest on the top of the seat as you sink down on him in one fell swoop, his grip like a vice on your hips. 

You’re not so sex stupid to actually risk getting caught - you’re on an abandoned road in the middle of Tuscany - but there’s something about the idea of someone seeing you that’s clearly working for the both of you. You move your hips forward and back, getting used to the stretch as he leans forward to press a line of kisses down your sternum towards your chest, hands sliding up your back as he sucks a nipple into his mouth and gropes the other, soft hands and tongue making you melt.

“How’s it feel?” he mumbles against your chest, switching sides to your other breast as you roll your hips, both of you moaning at the sensation. 

“Good. Full.” you mumble, almost delirious in your pleasure, sparks shooting up your spine each time you roll your hips just right. “So full.”

You pull his head off your chest and back up to your mouth to capture his lips in a kiss as you start to find your rhythm, what was once rolls of the hips become full bounces up and down, making him groan against your tongue.  He pulls back, one hand falling to grip at your ass as he rests his head against the seat, brow furrowed as he watches you fuck him.

“Y’ so beautiful,” he says, eyes dropping down to where you’re connected. “Fucking - drenching me. In the backseat - shit.”

Your head grazes the roof with every bounce but you can’t be arsed to care, not when he’s looking at you like that, pure want and desire in his eyes, beads of sweat dripping down his chest, his butterfly glistening in the sun. He’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and he’s looking at you like you’re everything and nothing, nothing has ever felt better than this. 

“Y’ so good to me,” he grunts out, eyes following your every move. “Love you like this. So fucking hot.” 

Fire licks up your spine, your rhythm getting sloppier as his words hurtle you towards your finish. You can barely catch your breath as you dig your nails into his shoulders, grabbing his wrist and pulling it up to your face, sucking two of his fingers into your mouth. 

“Fuck. Y’ close, huh?” he asks and you nod around his fingers. “Let’s get you there, baby. Want you to come first, want y’ to come around me.” 

He pulls his hand from your mouth, leaning up to kiss you deep, his hand dropping to your clit, drawing mind-numbing circles that have you crying out against his mouth, your hips driving against his more aggressive than ever. 

“That’s it. Go after it for me. Want y’ to come, my gorgeous girl.” he mumbles against your lips, pulling back to watch your face with brows furrowed in concentration as he flicks your clit just so and you explode around him, feeling like you’re burning from the inside out as you come, moaning out his name as he doesn’t let up until you stop fluttering around him. 

You don’t stop your hips, continuing to grind against him despite the overstimulation, your hand latching on to the back of his hair to kiss along his jaw.

“Need you to come,” you gasp out against his jaw, moaning when he groans and grips you tighter. “Want you to fill me up. Want to feel it.”

“Shit - baby. Fuck. I’m -” He bites down on your shoulder, hands falling to your hips as he rocks his hips up to meet yours, thrusting once, twice, and coming, moaning against your skin as you feel his release coat your walls, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you against his chest.

The two of you breathing deep, panting as you try to catch your breath. He kisses against your collarbone, his hand coming up to brush your hair back behind your shoulder as he leans in to kiss along your neck before leaning back against the seat, looking well-fucked with rosy cheeks, a soft smile on his face as his chest heaves. 

“Got my balls all over the upholstery,” he says and you bark out a laugh as he laughs with you, both of you shaking with it. You lean back to ease him out of you, his hands helping guide you as you slide off his lap and sit next to him, your hands immediately reaching for each other, fingers interlocking as you roll your head along the top of the seat to look over at him.

“Just fucked you within an inch of your life and that’s the first thing you say?” you ask and he huffs out a laugh. 

“Y’ did, didn’t you?” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Can’t believe you just fucked me in the backseat. That was the hottest thing to ever happen to me.”

“Shut up,” you laugh.

“‘M serious. You’ve got no idea what you look like when you’re looking at me like that. Like ‘m the only thing that matters.” he shakes his head, taking a deep inhale before rolling his head to look over at you, deadly serious, his voice rumbling out like gravel. “Makes me feel like I’m on fire.”

He leans over to capture your lips with his, kissing you so slowly, so carefully, you can feel the fire burning in you once more, the fire that never quite goes away with him.

“I love you so much,” you murmur against his lips and he inhales sharply before kissing you harder, letting go of your hand to bring both hands up to cup your face, holding you in place while he drags his lips against yours. 

“Love you too, baby.” he mumbles, kissing you once before pulling back. “Lay back for me. Gonna make you feel how you make me feel.” 

“H, you already - oh” you cut yourself off with moan as he sucks a kiss behind your ear, at the spot on your neck that always drives you crazy as he gently pushes you back against the seat.

“Then we can smoke some more, make some sandwiches and take a nap.” he says, lips dragging against your skin.  “No rush, yeah? We’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” you say, melting against the seat as his lips find yours once more, his hand sliding down your body until it falls between your thighs, making you gasp against his mouth. “We’ve got - we’ve got time.”

You lay back, eyes drawn to the way the sun reflects off his naked back, the pattern his lips draw against your skin making your eyes flutter shut as he presses his fingers into you. Your mind is still hazy but nothing has been more clear. This is all you want. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him. Till the day you die.

---

a/n: no ones dying btw its the song lyrics just wanted to make that clear. havent been able to finish writing someting in literal months, have requests in my inbox for not this, but here we are. my blog, my rules. not sure anyones still interested in reading this but i wrote it so im posting !

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[crescentfool]

i love ryomina

no but seriously. even when i’m thinking about other things that captivate my interest, i find myself coming back to them and feeling like i fell down three whole flights of staircases every time i do. they are one of my favorite pairs in media and are very special to me.

it’s the way that ryoji and minato’s lives are inevitably intertwined with each other due to the circumstances 10 years ago on the moonlight bridge. without no minato, there is no ryoji. minato as he is today is because of ryoji. they have irreparably affected each other’s lives that you cannot discuss one without bringing up the other one.

ryoji mochizuki, who is death, pharos, thanatos, nyx avatar, the man of many names and identities, is the perfect summation of p3′s messages and themes.

minato arisato, the wildcard and protagonist, who has boundless kindness in his actions despite the unfortunate cards handed to him.

the two of them complement each other and tell a beautiful story from start to finish.

minato’s personas capture this perfectly. he awakens to orpheus, who’s flames burns bright, is snuffed out by thanatos during the encounter against the arcana magician. a visual precursor of the idea that ryoji stole from the life that minato could have had.

it’s the way that over the course of the game as minato interacts with pharos, talking throughout the dark hour, forging a bond that cannot be broken, that allows ryoji to exist. minato humanizes death.

november. the bells toll, calling the appriser. and yet, it’s peaceful... quiet, and full of life. ryoji, who breaks free from death’s chains, refusing his role, is given the chance to live for a month. to make the most of the humanity that minato has given him over those ten years. and what a life he lived. ryoji’s life is a reflection of what minato’s life could have been like in another universe.

it is the way the two of them are reflections of each other. ryoji with his hair down is just like minato. they are both stubbornly committed to choosing to be kind, to love life, yet are chained down by the cards the narrative dealt them with. they finish each other’s sentences, knowing each other intimately in a way no one else does.

how is that, a boy who lived for only one month, profoundly changes the course of the narrative? he is simultaneously relevant and irrelevant. blink, and you miss it, the beautiful life that he led.

ryoji is horrified at the revelations of being the appriser. he who so desperately wished to forget that his existence was meant to bring the end to all life, was unable to escape the inevitability of death. in a non-human way, of course. he becomes remorseful. a shadow of his brief time as a human who was enamored by the small beautiful things that life had to offer.

he is swallowed by grief. grief knowing that his very existence will take away not only minato’s life, but everyone else’s. the very thing that ryoji loved- life, fundamentally went against the role he was born for- to be the harbinger of death. and unable to grapple with this sadness he believes that the best thing for minato to do is to kill him, so that SEES can live in bliss not knowing about their inevitable end.

SEES is left rattled, calling into question what the meaning of life is and what they do when faced against the inevitability of death.

and!!! minato chooses!! for ryoji to live!! even in spite of what ryoji is MEANT to embody, minato still stubbornly chooses to defy death itself! and if that’s not cool i don’t know what is!! minato wants everyone to have the chance to live!!

so he climbs. he ascends tartarus, to meet ryoji, again, who is now the nyx avatar. and i just think there’s something so so beautiful about being able to use messiah, minato’s ultimate persona, against nyx avatar.

messiah, being the fusion of orpheus and thanatos is peak ryomina to me. because ryoji and minato have established an unbreakable bond from having been entwined for 10 years, minato still has a piece of death with him, and by proxy!! ryoji is able to defy and rebel against nyx trying to bring the fall! and i think that’s fucking cool shit if you ask me!

even when all of the arcanas have been gone through, it’s still not enough to stop the fall. and yet. minato knows. in the way that ryoji was sealed in minato 10 years ago by aigis... minato becomes the great seal so that everyone can live. it comes full circle.

march rolls around. he fulfills his promise to SEES on graduation day. minato dies from exhaustion. but goddamn does his sacrifice make me weep- he’s had such, such a tiring journey. he’s been through so many things because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. but at the end of it all, he’s reunited with ryoji in death.

and i think this is why ryomina continues to evoke so much emotions for me, to this day. the relationship that they have embodies so much of persona 3′s messages and themes that it makes me feel like a microwave with nothing running in it.

p3′s message is very hopeful, for me. my favorite takeaway from it is that even if death is inevitable, appreciating the life that we were given and choosing to live as best as we can with kindness (even if we can’t feasibly do everything), is just? really nice? and you see this manifest in both ryoji and minato’s personalities and what they do for the other characters.

ryomina just feels so distinct to me, the flavor that their relationship ties back to my favorite takeaways from this game and im just!!  god!! i love you minato arisato! i love you ryoji mochizuki! im so glad that i could meet them! i’m happy that they changed my life! they made me want to appreciate the connections in life even if they were fleeting! they made me!! want to pay attention to the good moments in life and cherish them!

i love ryomina so much!!! i’m so glad that these two could bring so much joy into my life! and i hope that others can have this joy too! 💛💙

[storm-of-feathers]

cant sleep gonna say my thoughts.

I think what a lot of people miss about tumblr (and especially unfocused blogs that, say, aren't fandom oriented) is that it's essentially an open journal. it's a microblogging website, and all blogging micro or macro is fundamentally a web log (where the term comes from!). if it seems like I'm not talking ab something enough, it's not because I don't care at all.

It's because first and foremost, this blog is a piece of my soul that I am choosing to share. I'm not trying to be an activist on the internet, I'm not trying to sway anyone to my opinions. I'm saying the things I think and feel. If I talk ab american politics too much, that's because im american. if I'm writing frustrated posts about performative internet activism, that's because it feels exhausting to be out there doing the work (because that's what it is. Its work. Its boring and taxing and it feels like youre getting nowhere. Until you see how far youve come) and having to come to tumblr and seeing people say I didn't talk about [disaster 30000 of the past ten years] enough.

if I seem angry and upset and scared and irrational, its because i am those things. you have to understand. in spite of my rather large follower number, this blog is, first and foremost, for me. I am writing things down and allowing strangers and friends and wanderers to read it. I won't call it a privilege that can be taken away, bc its not like some of my thoughts are exactly a treat, but it is something to keep in mind.

if you ask me why I'm talking about the supreme courts recent decisions but not similar decisions in other countries, the answer comes down to "one of those directly affects me, and therefore i can fight back."

but I shouldn't have to announce where and how I'm fighting back. if for no other reason, my own fucking safety. but also bc this blog isn't any sort of guide to activism, it's not any type instruction. it is, at best, my diary that I published.

and that isn't a bad thing!! and it shouldn't be!!! that's why I harped so hard on the carrd post. that's why I'm vaguely annoyed with my reddit posts. that's why I shared my marital status and sexuality for a long time. that's why i have a rwby icon. that's why my blog title which hasn't changed since 2018 is what it is.

I understand that sometimes I have opinions people don't like. oceangate in particular has proven to be a fantastic example of that. But i am, at the most basic terminology, venting my thoughts and feelings.

that's why I'm talking ab the supreme court and their awful decisions. why I may not be talking about issues that don't directly affect me, but might affect some of you. it's not because i don't care. It's never because I don't care.

It's because my target audience is a mirror.

[tethered-heartstrings]

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us? Weird Questions for Writers

I have been told it is a red flag and that i am very strange for writing in complete silence. no music, background noise, nothing. I struggle focusing otherwise. I have occasionally put on white noise but only to drown out other sounds, it is not my preference. just me, the tippy tap of my fingers on my keyboard, and occasionally a little mrrp or meow from my cat if she is in the room with me. I used to not think it was weird but the more people that tell me it is the more i am inclined to also find it strange lol

maybe that i keep my writing documents (often porn lol) on the same computer/screen as my school work, but my documents are well organized

[loser-jpg]

hate teacher.

so angry.

he told me my 6 months worth of work has to be scrapped and entirely redone in 2 weeks. thats literally impossible. i am the tiniest inconvenience away from having an entire meeting with him to read him a 5 page essay on how he has been of no help this entire semester and last and how he has done nothing but inconvenience me all year.

hes seen the work many times before but only brought up the issue now. 2 weeks before a progress report. He told me the thing hes been having me work on for an entire month cant be part of my progress report because its not specific enough.

IF THIS WAS GOING TO BE A PROBLEM HE WOULD HAVE ALREADY KNOWN AND HE SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME BEFORE I WAS 6 MONTHS IN.

he blatantly holds favoritism as every other student (they all happen to be cis men) get all the help in the world yet i get no help at all and when he tells me i have to scrap all my work he doesnt even point me in the right direction just says redo it you have 2 weeks.

this is a group project but every other group is doing one project with all people working together yet mine is doing one project each person meaning i cant even get assistance. two of the people in my group HAVE NOT SPOKEN A WORD TO ME SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR.

he is also needlessly rude. instead of just politely saying there might be an issue he feels the need to make me feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. I am half convinced this man finds joy in publicly humiliating and shaming me in any way possible. You are a grown ass man what the actual fuck. You are in your god damn 50s.

[revalito]

hi I'm a little obsessed with your Anastasia au! how did Wei Ying get into the business of trying to find a LWJ impersonator, and how did he convince Wen Ning and Wen Qing to go along with his plans? xoxo thanks

omg thank you so much for asking! believe me, im just as obsessed as u are 😩 the wangxian syndrome... nothing in the brain but wangxian....

but to answer your question!

@mitchmotch and i decided its not that wwx was in the business exactly, but more that he spent those 13 years trying to Find actual lwj because he loves and misses him, before getting involved with the wens distracted him until he completely lost all traces he had of lwj. so he eventually gave up the active search, but always hoped to one day hear news about him

it wasnt until things got incredibly difficult for the wens that they resolved to more desperate measures. in this au, wwx never lost his golden core, BUT he still developed mo dao as a necessity after he moved the wens to the burial mounds as the first safe place he could think of. he tries not to use mo dao too much, as he's not yet 100% sure how to ensure it doesn't fuck with his golden core OR send him into a qi deviation lol. so staying in the burial mounds is. Not The Best

this all means: he and the wens Need food and money to move somewhere far far away, Somehow. theyve got little a-yuan to take care of, after all!

so when they run into zhen yazhu(amnesiac lwj) and wwx sees the similarities and the reward, he knows what he has to do. it takes about a day and a half to convince wen qing, but she knows perfectly well they won't last much without some form of help, so she gives in. wwx tries to reassure her by saying thats totally lwj, trust me jie, if anyone knows him, its me, dont worry about it. but even he has trouble believing himself fully at first (even though it really is lwj!)

[toruq]

[astrxealis]

me rn having the biggest hots for leon kennedy and astarion sorry LMFAOOO <3

[flatstarcarcosa]

yeah yeah you’ve all heard of reelix common law married for a decade without knowing but have you heard of

lester dying caused a few hiccups in the money situation and when he comes back two years later he finds a few accounts empty and cards maxed out because the lack of activity on the back end for new blood money to launder caused off shore accounts to get locked down for security so he ends up having to fix it and fix things on the public facing end that way in the future even if he dies a second time the scenario will always be ‘reese has card, reese has access to money’ and the simplest way to do this involves us being legally married so he just says ‘hey sign this i’m fucking with the bank’ one day and i go ‘okie dokie’ and i do it

and then i never find out we’re legally married.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Okay so this is gonna sound very unhinged

But the screenshot you posted of the doc for Omega Yamo had text

And I may have zoomed in and been able to decipher the words

And I’m obsessed with there being more than one Alpha in that scenario

And I think you’re a genius and I love your writing even though I probably wasn’t supposed to be able to read it

Again I’m sorry for being so insane but I couldn’t help it 🙃

SCREAMINGGGG anon i am in love with you. i appreciate the level of unhinged sooo much, the only thing you have to be sorry for is inflating my ego to an enormous size

howmstever!!! i may have tricked you!!! there are actually two omega yamo fics in the works 🤐🤫 they just happen to exist in the same document right now because ??? why not

[myname-isnia]

I think the ghost of Tolstoy had possessed me for the past three hours because there is no other explanation for THIS

[katyspersonal]

There is something both sad and liberating to be sure that all my suspicions were right and my friend did, in fact, only need me as 'the only friend' they had. Like... I suspected, but there still was something liberating in seeing how they've stopped having any struggle and doubts with getting rid of me as soon as they've found a new friend - and an outlet elsewhere.

It is, like... a bittersweet feeling, when I realise that as much as I miss this person, I nonetheless do not have to worry anymore. When a person leaves that did not actually like me and considered me nothing but a burden, a punishment for their sins in the past life and, I quote, a "woke f3minist r3tard and just another terminally online woman"... well, truth can't possibly be something to resent. It is always good to know the truth... I always thought that having no closure would've been the worst thing imaginable, but there was just... something liberating, to just return to being blocked everywhere, without a chance to ask, without ever knowing final words or a reason. For some reason, it feels more like a completion than like an actual verbal goodbye. Like if not knowing what actually happened means knowing more.

Nobody ever listens to this advice, but, once again: do NOT stick with a person you deeply resent and dislike and find 0 good traits in just because you've convinced yourself that you "do not deserve anyone decent anyway" and that "no one else will tolerate you anyway". Despite the common misconception, not all people are compatible. Some people are just such a terrible match that they WILL destroy each other, and there is no way to make this "friendship" work. It is never a punishment or a burden you're obligated to endure, but the only limits to how great friends you can have are often the limits you put on yourself.

[semercury]

Screaming along to songs in my car can unfortunately only do so much

[tgirljoker]

arven is the best of the trio in pokescarvio like penny and nemona barely even classify as characters

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

Nothing is funnier to me than being incredibly self aware and still acting a fool. Taking an L across the board

[iloveyouitisruiningmylife]

im so tough when im alone and i make you feel so guilty and i fantasize about the time you're a little fucking sorry do you think i deserved it all your flowers filled with vitriol you have everything but you still want more and