#i cant even describe it in short shes that terrible

[ever-eilish]

Could you do Billie Eilish asking r out

A (not so) bad day

billie eilish x fem! reader

a day that is supposed to be horrible takes unexpected turns, after you accidentally bump into a certain singer

author's notes: thank you so much for requesting, I really appreciate it! sorry if this is not what you wanted, I really hope you like it though! once again, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy❤️

warnings: a bit of cursing, but mostly fluff

Chaotic. That was the only way to define today. You know that saying that 'nothing is so bad that it cant get worse'? So, that saying has proven true today.

I woke up 30 minutes late, spilled the coffee in my white clothes, missed the bus, and now I'm here, standing in front of the bland beige door, waiting for my boss to decide to call me to give me some more of his scolding.

Bad luck. That's the only word that can describe my day, or rather, my week.

Everything that could go wrong, did;

I'm in the midst of a series of catastrophic events ranging from the simplest, like knocking my butter breakfast bread to the floor — with the butter-covered part facing down, of course — to the more serious, like being threatened with losing my job by my annoying, weird boss.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I see the door in front of me open and the middle-aged man walk out of the room - which looks more like a chain saddle.

"Well, well, it looks like you've decided to be late again?" the wretch says.

As if I'd choose to miss my bus, spill coffee on my white blouse, and wake up late.

"That way I'll have no option but to fire you," he repeats the same words he's been saying to me for so long.

Son of a bitch.

"Sir, please! I promise it won't happen again, I love my job!" I lied.

"I'm sorry, but you're officially fired," he announces, as if announcing me as an Oscar winner. I take a deep breath, count to a thousand, take another deep breath and, with all the calmness in the world, say: "FUCK YOU!" I throw my badge on the floor, and walk towards the office door, ignoring all the crooked looks directed at me, and leave that musty-smelling place.

I didn't even like it there!

My God, how am I going to pay my bills? Fuck that old cuckold.

Fuck that old-man

Oh my God, I'm going to have to sell my computer.

I hated my. co-workers anyway.

My God, my computer.

All thoughts were running. through my head in a whirlwind when suddenly I bump into someone in front of me and fall to the ground.

THAT'S ALL I NEEDED!

Without even noticing who it was, I quickly stand up muttering something like, 'I'm sorry'; and I offer my hand to the stranger sitting on the floor.

And it is at that moment that, with my hand outstretched, I begin to notice the victim of my lack of attention.

The stranger wore a black blouse with white stripes — or white with black stripes - and black shorts. Her beautiful hair had the roots dyed red, while the rest was dark brown.

I could have sworn I knew her from somewhere.

It's very sudden when I feel her warm touch on my hand - which remained stretched - and I feel the girl partially throw her weight on me to get up.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should be more careful" she says, with an embarrassed smile.

"I'm the one who apologizes! I've been walking around thinking about nothing and ! ended up bumping into you" I say,

scratching the back of my neck.

"Are you okay? You hit it really hard against the floor" was only when the girl tells me that I notice my throbbing hip.

"I'm great!" I lied knowing full well that the last thing I was in right now was 'great'. "Hm, so, you live here?" the stranger says, acting as if she wants to continue a conversation.

I don't have anything better to do, after all, why not talk?

"No! I live in my house," say, internally cursing myself for the terrible attempt at a joke.

Anyway, she laughed, and I felt my. embarrassment soon go away when I heard the good sound of that laughter.

"Oh got it, you're the funny type, then?"

she asks me, clearly joking.

"That's what they say"

We stare at each other for a while when very quietly, I hear the click of a camera. The girl seems to hear the same thing as I do, when she suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me nto the convenience store next to us.

What the fuck is going on?

She pulls me further into the store and 'hides' behind a food rack.

Holy shit, is she being followed?

My God, could it be that she's a serial killer and I recognized her because of that?

Holy shit, I'm too young to die.

What if...

I am interrupted from my mental breakdown at the sound of his voice.

"Hm, I'm sorry about that. You know how it is, right? Paparazzi are everywhere."

My God, I was right.

She's a serial killer and I'm her next victim. "Are you going to kill me?" my eyes widen as I ask.

"What?" she says to me, visibly confused, "my. name is Billie! I'm a singer."

I let myself take a deep breath when I hear what Billie tells me. Well, at least I won't die today.

"Hey, I really enjoyed talking to you, and I wanted to meet you again" she says, looking deep into my eyes "what do you think about going to a coffee shop with me one of these days?"

Is she asking me out on a date?

"Like a date?"

"Yes!"

"I want to!" I reply promptly, and watch as she rummages through her purse for a pen.

"Here!" She finally finds a blue fine-tipped pen, pulls out my hand, and writes something.

Before I can process what was happening, I feel a small kiss being left on my cheek and watch her walk out of the store with her head down.

When I look into my hand, I read:

"Cafeteria 221B, Baker Street;

03/22, at 9:00 pm.

See ya<3"

Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all.

[mellonieee]

Mellonie does FOP + A New Wish Analysis: 1

This is what a week of AC and Antifairy brainrot has led to. After this I think I’m going to actually watch through the entire original series from the Oh Yeah! Shorts all the way to Season 10. (Hopefully I wont hate it too much.) And then rewatch ANW again once it hits streaming for the full FOP experience. And also so I could maybe do more of this analysis stuff, its fun.

Plans for later aside, this and any I do in the future, will only use episodes the character actually appears in, and not ones that they are merely mentioned in. Its also important to note that I likely wont use all the episodes the Character appears in.

That old black magic is the introduction to Anti-Cosmo, Anti-Wanda, and the Anti-Fairies as a whole. They’re described as “Regular Fairies, but anti.”

This episode establishes a few things:

1.Fairy magic cannot interfere with Anti-fairy magic.

2.On Friday the 13th, Antifairies escape from Fairyworld and cause bad luck. Antifairies are naturally drawn to anything that triggers bad luck to happen.

3.Antifairies can only be seen by humans with anti-fairy goggles.

4.Antifairies are opposites of their fairy counterpart in personality. AW is “incredibly stupid and eats with her feet.” AC is “not an idiot, in any matter once so ever.”

But what’s really interesting about this episode is what Jorgen and Anti-Cosmo have to say about the anti-fairies.

“No one is allowed in Anti-fairy world!”

“You see, we’ve been trapped behind that blasted barrier for centuries.”

Jorgen, you cant just imprison a whole group without expecting any problems. Its no wonder they wanted to escape so badly. Is causing bad luck something, well, bad, enough to warrant the imprisonment of an entire race? The anti-fairies arent good at all, obviously, but they are biologically made to thrive off of bad luck and negative energy. This really muddies the waters when it comes to seeing this as a solely ‘black and white’ situation. Most, but not all, of what AC does is for the antifairies. He’s evil and chaotic by nature, but he’s not evil evil, yknow.

There isnt really anything else noteworthy to say about that old black magic outside of this, but I did notice that AC knew Timmy’s name despite the fact he never met him before that point, somehow. I merely brush it off as a minor goof and just figure AC mustve made a lucky (haha) guess, but if you want a crazy theory to explain it, then maybe anti-fairies share vague recollections or memories with their fairy counterparts. I dont actually think thats true, but theres your food for thought.

The second appearance of the antifairies, The Gland Plan instantly ditches the entire ‘antifairy goggles’ thing, which is honestly for the better, even if I do think it made anti-fairies more unique. They are sadly never getting the invisibilty thing back.

This episode establishes that the faggigly gland is a special organ in a fairies body that allows the fairy to change shape, and that both fairies and anti-fairies have one. Fairy biology in general is really questionable, especially if you factor in the angel forms from A New Wish, but thats a topic for another day.

A few things to note:

1.This is the start of that “Hello, Clarice.” quote that AC and Foop/Irep use. Its a reference to Silence of the Lambs but its a misquote anyway because Lecter never even says hello to Clarice.

2.AC claims that he cant see a thing without his monocle. If he isnt lying about that and isnt using the monocle only as a symbol of prestige, then he has really terrible eyesight and is most likely completely blind in one eye.

3.Despite AC calling his wife a twit, he prefaces it by saying that he loves her very much. Most instances of AC talking to his wife does include him being typically annoyed when she messes with his plans, but outside of that he acts courteous towards her. (“Chin up, my beloved Anti-Wanda! Your savior, Anti-Cosmo, will have you all free presently!”)

4.The more questionable line is when Anti-Cosmo and Cosmo are having the operation and AC claims that if he does live, Cosmo should take his wife. Needless to say, AC words things very poorly at times, but this statement does have them acknowledging that an anti-fairy and a fairy could hypothetically be with one another’s counterpart.

“Cosmo, old friend, since we both carry a piece of each other inside of us, I see no reason for us to do battle. But I warn you, don't look for me.”

AC doesnt hold that much ill-will towards Cosmo like how I figure most would expect him to. He seems to be fed up and annoyed by his counterpart’s foolishness, but he does not despise him.

Right as the episode ends, Timmy brings up the idea that maybe more than the faggigly glands got transplanted. There isnt much evidence to support this outside of the brief voice change Anti-Cosmo and Cosmo had, but I’m starting to think Timmy was right considering how Anti-Cosmo acts in A New Wish.

I dont know if AC and AW retired like Wanda and Cosmo did, but I feel like AC’s very obvious decline in intelligence is a likely theory as to why Irep now seems to be in charge of the anti-fairies as shown in A New Wish.

I frankly can’t see the New Wish Version of AC leading the antifairies compared to how he acted in the old show. Not when he now thinks leaving a cage unattended is a “good idea.” That isnt something AC would say at all if we’re going off of his original characterization. It’s interesting to think of a reason in-universe as to how he went from “not an idiot, in any matter once so ever.” to someone who definitely is not as smart as he use to be.

[windowsmillennium2000]

lots of animal/pet death talk

our rottweiler, scarlett, is going to be put down today or tomorrow. she suddenly developed cancer in the spine that spread to her lungs and lost the ability to use her back legs. her pain patches ran out today so shes been crying a lot and panting so much her throat is soaking wet. its so awful i cant even describe

this would be the second rottweiler we will have lost to cancer, so it feels especially cruel. the first one, sasha, had bone cancer in one of her legs and while she was in a lot of pain she was at least able to get around with a limp, scarlett cant move at all outside of dragging herself short distances. it takes two grown adults to get her outside to use the bathroom, and even then its a massive struggle for everyone involved. and while sasha was in pain, i cant imagine how much pain scarlett is in when the cancer is in her spine. it must be excruciating and just sitting here knowing shes hurting so much is stressing me out to no end. my mom just had surgery and cant get to her easily while shes confined to the entryway of the house because we cant get her up the steps easily and i hate that all she can do is sit there alone.

i feel terrible because even though she was in my life for 7 years, i dont feel like i spent enough time with her. sometimes the family dog just becomes a part of the background yknow? and you never expect something like this might happen. and its just so crushing to watch her hurt like this, just a few days ago she was normal and happy as could be. she never really grew out of being a puppy.

im glad her suffering will be over soon but it doesnt feel good. i never want a large dog again, let alone any dog at all honestly...

[imaginespazzi]

Hi hi hi!

Reporting live and procrastinating responsibilities :). So heres my rundown, pretty much matchy matchy w yours, naturally: Generally the video vibes almost 💯 fit with the allegations 🙃. Please bear w the rambling thoughts in no particular order. Im not sure how one could possibly cohesively recap ALL THAT lol. Ok it blows my mind how much they personally had to catch up on w one another! God damn babes, you havent talked much if at all in nearly a month. Again it screams that there was more of a relationship (ending poorly).. Even friends moving apart prob wouldve had more contact over that time. Sometimes I wonder how they dont realize what they reveal by what they leave ~unsaid/not explained! Though G’s “really bad breakup” comment felt weighted given their situation. To me much of the injury discussion came across as carry over from the In The Mirror. With G making a point to say nice things (good memories of playing together;tearing up when Liz got hurt; not being wholly herself as a player w/out Kitley;the frustration at team reaction after the game following the injury; belief that Liz will recover/be drafted etc.). And G’s words still feel to me like a way of her dealing with some guilt which she cant quite yet express or process. Especially considering her adding stuff about being w the Kitley fam lately and helping move Liz’s stuff ha. If a person ever questioned something going down between L&G, I’ll say alarm bells went off when L described her night following the injury and staying over w Cayla. In such a low moment, poor girlie really couldnt manage being at her own place thats shared w one of her closest pals. Ooof. However, on the whole, they sounded more comfortable at times than I expected. In fact the convo sometimes got surprisingly open and loose - gals dont tell me that we had a bit of liquid courage before recording. ;) And it did stand out to me that L asked the “fans” on multiple occasions to just be decent and grateful for what they had + be understanding of decision making under the situation, but stopped short of telling people to leave G alone (which, given everything we’re led to believe, fair play hun). My big takeaway was that they seem to be taking this time of big adjustment as also a new beginning to possibly recover a friendship. Clearly theres still issues to work thru, but perhaps theyve reached a more settled/amicable place? Or at least were just able to deal w each other long enough to provide us all w a semi closure pod 😐. But heres hoping for more future content, as they hinted at! Oh and as someone who works w/in college athletics, I was very sympathetic to their comments throughout re change. Its a crazy industry, stuff happens in the blink of an eye and you do just have to deal with that ish. The harsh reality of the current state of things is that one rarely gets a neat, happy closure.

Happy Sunday to you bestie, hope its fantastic! -☕️

Reporting live and procrastinating is so real, like me asf fr fr.

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING. Like they seemed so out of the loop when it came to each other's life and that's just so weird to me? I mean I get it could just be regular friends drifting but that wasn't the ~vibe~ at all to me and maybe again it's the allegations bias but it was just very much giving exes.

Hardcore agree with the Georgia stuff because I thought some of what she was saying felt a bit like an overcompensation, an apology of sorts to make up in a way for anything else that *might* have happened. Honestly Georgia being so nice, no shade, doesn't really fit the dynamic from before where sometimes Georgia's snark was just mean to me really.

Every new bit of info/content, I just continue to feel terrible for Liz. And I think her staying at Cayla's really gave away the depth of how much has happened between her and Georgia. And again yeah it could be a friend breakup but it just feel a little too serious for that.

Obviously I don't know a timeline, if there even is one, but this podcast gave me the vibes that if they were together, it's actually been a decent while since they broke up and are now in a place where they can co-exist in an amicable manner. I don't know if we'll ever get another podcast or if they'll actually be able to be in a genuine friendship again but I think they're in a good enough place and I do love that for them.

[pesterloglog]

Rose Lalonde, Jade Harley

Act 4, page 1627

TT: I spoke with Jaspers.

TT: I didn't understand what he told me.

TT: He said I'll understand once I "wake up".

TT: For some reason this made me think of you.

GG: hehehe......

GG: yeah i bet hes right!

TT: We wouldn't happen to be talking about awakening in a sort of breezy, philosophical sense, would we?

TT: Is my dead cat concerned with my enlightenment? Should I prepare to shed this coil of ignorance and suffering?

GG: wow no i dont think so...

GG: hes being a bit more literal than that!

GG: what did he say?

TT: I doubt I could reproduce the statements with fidelity.

TT: It was like listening to a five year-old describe a dream.

TT: The content manages to take a back seat to the simple heartwarming spectacle of the moment.

GG: :)

GG: well what he meant was.....

GG: that you have a dream self

GG: who is supposed to wake up whenever your real self goes to sleep

GG: we all do! all four of us i mean

GG: but see your dream self still stays asleep when you go to sleep

GG: because you havent woken up yet!

TT: I think I get it.

TT: I take it your "dream self" is wide awake when you sleep?

GG: yes

TT: And would I be out of line in additionally presuming this has been the case for many years, at least as long as I've known you?

GG: no you would not be out of line!

GG: in fact im asleep now

TT: That was to be my next wild presumption.

GG: :p

TT: So when I wake up, can I look forward to being able to message people in my sleep too?

GG: no only i can do that!

GG: because of my robot

TT: Oh, right.

TT: I forgot about your robot.

TT: My short term recall seems to eschew the profoundly ridiculous.

GG: you guys can probably make your own i guess......

GG: but you need to wake up first for it to matter and maybe by the time that happens you might not even need them!!!

TT: I'm not sure if necessity is a concept I'd associate with such a contraption even under some of the more obscure scenarios imaginable.

TT: But good to know I guess.

TT: Here's another question, which I'm sure will look stupid once I've finished typing it.

TT: If my dream self is asleep, does that mean she's dreaming, and if she is, who's dreaming the dream, her or me?

GG: um.......

GG: ok well i dont really know how to answer the second part but yeah shes dreaming!

GG: shes most likely lying in your bed troubled and restless

GG: about things burdening her

GG: which is to say you!!!!!

GG: things about who you really are and what your purpose is

GG: but you cant start figuring those things out yet because youre not awake because youre not ready yet

GG: thats why you have such terrible dreams all the time rose!

TT: Ok. How do I wake up?

GG: im sure it would help to start piecing together the clues to nudge your subconscious

GG: or maybe face some things you havent faced yet?

GG: i dunno! its for you to find out

GG: maybe the stuff you wrote on your walls can give you a clue?

TT: What stuff?

GG: the....

GG: er

GG: didnt dave tell you?

TT: Tell me what?

GG: ._.

TT: Are you saying he said I defaced the walls of my room?

TT: While not appearing to be cognizant of the scrawlings?

TT: Like John?

TT: I really hope that's not what you're saying.

TT: It might freak me out.

GG: he said he was going to tell you <_<;

TT: Hold on.

[threenorth]

Sometimes it's nice to bounce ideas of a robot, but don't worry I'm not gonna fall of this hollow of a lie but good to know I do have feelings that are correct even if Alexithymia sometimes can be a fucking bitch.

I felt like the day you smiled at your fridge (March 21st 2012) us +1 day meeting (with nz Timezone) I just felt... You had to be my person... I wonder when you knew... But I guess I'll wait to find an answer to all my questions but I don't know them all because some come some go but I don't really care to be honest, the biggest one is getting to know you now and maybe once under the stars in the roof to get to know the you that shaped you the terrible experiences in life that shaped us and now push us to do whatever the fuck we're going to do next... There's whole adenvture (*tiktok meme* sound)

(could only find..not the colour version but)

I have no idea what am doing tommrow - well neropsych, cleaning my room(study / art space),living room, ice (incase of emergency) file and medical alert, voice dictation software, and make some art, reading, meditation...

And it's exciting....

I've been thinking high level...

The man you loved...

Was and still is;(at times..)

Loving.

Compassionate.

Patient.

Respectful.

Slow.

Daring.

Courteous.

Genorus.

educated.

But I have more words I'm looking for... But for you the girl I fell for, she's just one word.

Soul-flame.

It's a soul mate mixed with a twin flame the dash might be a muse.

I can't describe you, but I will say that when I look under the dictionary under Lauren it means

And maybe in French it means lover of a red hair, but soon I might have to shave for a breif few weeks or months, but I'm not sure because you aren't talking to me but I hope I'd have your blessings.

With my short term memory issues and my voids I had to relive I'm in a stage where I'd like some colour... The colour of blonde/yellow/white sunlight names you... But I guess much like you I'll wait till you being down your walls much as me, yet I must admit in my truma and trying to move forwards I'm sorry I left you... Per say. I did say I'd come back I'm sorry I didn't say when but as you'll hear it's been one battle after a next and I just want some rest, I want to cuddle up to you... I want everything again... But I don't know how to start but I'm doing something, hope it's the right thing because you said live your life... But again... I cant... Without... You.

P.S

In the voids of my mind I had to refeel... I felt her holding my hand, it was hard to feel that pain again, the pain I forgot, but she was telling me it's okay and some how when I opened my eyes once I saw pain, but this time I opened and she wasn't there I almost fell to my knees but instead I herd Paul (wellygtion psychologist) as much as her saying you have a beautiful mind and she said make some art... So I did. But when I went back to bed my heart rate didn't drop my asthma and axeity was at an all time high then I panicked I couldn't breathe... And that's when I called an ambulance.

In my pains, I see her maybe it's the flowers of stocitism or the flowers she planted to remind me of her, that she was in my brain keeping me alive maybe it was bpd, maybe it was dislouional, but she kept me alive in the hardest days of my life even if I lied to everyone I forgot my truths just my name... I told her once she's my type in blood type but she's my everything type,i wonder if she's my typeface or my letters or my words, maybe she's much me as I am her a black sheep who found each other at the right time, I don't think we have a place to go, we have nothing but time, I said in ED I'm scared to live my life, maybe because I don't know where I'm going but I know where I've been, I just want her to come along on my next adventure... Where're that is maybe she's getting a visa and coming here, because I don't think I can't risk another trip to the mountains without her until my lungs get better and my body isn't so axiety ridden currently...I miss her, the old same person my companion, my parnter in crime (eh) my heart, my mind and my other half my soulmate, she's currently in a spa pool waiting but I think that's a Metaphor for tranquility and peace of mind, in my fleeting moments of the day my feather I wear, may it flow and blow in the wind, guiding me to love and pains unknown, behide closed doors and open hearts.

(I don't know if saw my poem but I'm forgetting a few things lately I think it's the brain chemistry of this new med I hope so but it's not on the side effect list...but it's called closed doors (but bleeding hearts) or something... Still working on it.. I guess? )

Even my coffee still looks like her eyes,

And tastes of her lips, I haven't seen her wear her nose ring, but what the fuck do I care, I still love her, voids and all, hope she remembers that even if it doesn't seem like it, everything I did after that horrible beuiutful day... Was because of her, the good things... The bad things... And maybe the art I make, like the screenplay ode to her...everything to her, she is my missing pecie... Even if I thought so but now I now so..

May I mediate mentally, physically and enjoy my morning powerbutton... Tomorrow I start the night power button...

I'll see you soon dear, I'm thinking about sending you a post card, but I didn't know where to send it to, so I send it to the universe because I'm currently fighting my own heart and people who are stuck in my head from the time in my life I'd rather not remember... The bad truma times, maybe this is my good truma times because I'm getting to see the people who I've wanted to see for years, but couldn't.. Maybe it's fate but I think it's just part of the season... Turn turn turn, season of reason change and rearrange...waiting for the mail day, but you can't find me online metaphorically but you know where i am... (online not physically) I hope to see you on Skype ping me but I'll warn you that with my adhd at the moment I might not see it unless I'm in front of the computer, and printing sheets to help me do my daily routine whatever that means.

When the sunrises I look to my left hoping soon she'd be right there, I'd tell her to runaway with me but she has bills like we all do... Soon she will be able to I hope, but me too hoping I'll pay my bills and debts, my dear... I want my friend back... But we both know how this ends, I told you to set the speed or the tone but this is painful...sometimes I wonder how you survived so long but I'm glad to see your still here, because I almost wasn't... A few times but a promise... That kept me here, and without bleeding for better or worse, when I'm not able to meet the right criteria of crisis... *pushes her hair behind her ear*, I don't remember much of a few places, but my memory sometimes is my best worse freind, I'd tell you I'd like you to see these places soon before they might leave me forever... But maybe we're go in person... I hope if so... I'd be better mentally... Spiritually, and physically enough to protect myself in case something happens but there's many things I'm scared I'd never be able to do but... If your there by myside, I'd hope if the worse happened to me, you know it would be how I'd want it to be.... You said.. Fast and quick... I'd rather bleed... slowly and painfully to spend every last second with you... I'm 131 lbs/60kg it's not great... But capt tells me that's okay... And keep going...

I need to still work on a few things but even if I'm working away as best I can I'd hope I'd have a web camera on and if I needed to, I'd mute her(mic in see something happens) but she might see me work...because I work hard to try get back home to a log cabin made of words and a vision made of poems but soon it will be my place I call my own, I just want her to come on my new chapter as it starts I think called, trying to get back home, or finding wood.

PPS

Finding wood, lol, wood erghhh sleeping really good last few days feeling rather.. 'frustrated' but it's difficult... But don't worry about me, all I do is think about you, again I'd ask how's my son soup but I guess he's alive, missing your sheranakngains, xo

Have a good morning, but when do you sleep now?

Always

R

[deedoop]

Princess and the Freak

It was so easy falling in love with Chrissy.

She had that smile, a smile Eddie was pretty sure could honestly even make Oscar the Grouch smile. A smile that could woo and charm the hearts of men and burn them with ease. Somehow, Chrissy had chosen him, she could've had any man she wanted, but here she was, on his bed, listening to music with him.

Honestly? If you told Eddie he was dreaming? He'd believe it. He wouldn't blink twice. How does a freak like him get Chrissy Cunningham? How does a freak get the girl of his dreams over Jason Carter? These were questions best left to philosophers Eddie supposed.

He watched her chest rise and fall, her eyes drowsy, he watched her in the peace of his room, in the peace of quiet music, fall asleep. His heart panged softly, his mind full of impure thoughts. If Chrissy knew just how much of a freak he was? He didn't think she would stay.

He admired her, admired her for more than her smile, her laugh, though those were surely bonuses, he admired her for how beautiful a dress looked on her, how makeup could grace those lips, how easy and beautiful she was. He envied her. He wanted to be pretty, wanted to look in the mirror and smooth out a pleated skirt, to rub lip gloss against his chapped lips. Chrissy would leave him in a heartbeat if she knew. He knew it.

Eddie was conflicted, had been his whole life. Not quite feeling a boy nor a girl, he didn't have a word to describe it, he just knew somedays..he wished he could be as pretty as Chrissy Cunningham. Today was one of those days. He stared at her clothes, long since abandoned onto the messy floor of his bedroom, his heart panged with pure and utter guilt. He was such a freak.

He looked over, making sure one last time she was asleep before slowly getting out of the bed, grabbing her pink sweater and white skirt that laid intermixed with his own clothes. His heart pounded a little faster with nervousness and excitement. He looked over once more before staring into the mirror, slipping into the skirt. It was short on him, barely came to the middle of his thigh, it was tight too, but his breath was taken away as he stared at himself. Next came the sweater, looser and baggy.

Eddie stared at the mirror a long time, just breathing. Today she was pretty. She slowly took one of Chrissy's scrunchies, pulling her hair up into a pony tail. Eddie Munson felt like a barbie doll. Loved it. She couldn't help but smile, spinning around in her outfit. Some days, Eddie was he, other days Eddie was she, Eddie didn't have a word for it, but today Eddie was simply euphoric.

"Eddie?" Chrissy was sitting up, rubbing her eyes. "What are you doin?" Eddie's heart dropped, eyes wide with fear.

"I-I uhm..just wanted to prank you." She stuttered out, her heart beating out of her chest, pretty sure her face was burning red, pretty sure she was a terrible liar. Her voice squeaked, her legs were shaking. Chrissy was just staring. Eddie almost begged Jesus Christ Himself to strike her down right where she stood.

"Eddie? What's going on?" Chrissy wasnt stupid, could see that her boyfriend was practically having a nervous breakdown. The cheerleader, stretched a moment before moving towards Eddie, cupping the face of the one she loved dearly. She helped Eddie to sit on the bed, rubbing the back of the metalhead she loved dearly. "Eddie. Is this a fetish th-"

"No." Eddie said firmly, hair crowding her face, she couldnt look at Chrissy, deep shame ebbed at her and knew this was the last time Chrissy Cunningham would love Eddie Munson.

"Eddie? Baby? Talk to me. Please?" Her voice was soft like cotton and oh so patient. Her warm small hand was rubbing the small of Eddie's back in comforting circles, her lips gently kissing the flesh of Eddie's neck.

It helped. Even though Eddie knew she was going to leave, her comfort helped. "Somedays..I feel like a boy. Somedays I feel like a girl. I don't know..why or if im just broken? I cant help it and I saw your clothes and every part of me just ached to be pretty. Just once."

Chrissy nodded, she was so patient, "So today you're a girl?" She asked gently, "Like I call you she?" And Eddie nodded stiffly, her eyes full on confusion as Chrissy moved over her lap, sitting. "Eddie? Look at me?" She gently tilted Eddie's face up, pressing a small kiss to her lips. "I love you. Nothing's going to change that. Maybe we can go drive to the mall up in East Bend and we can go clothes shopping for when you..well are a girl."

Eddie couldn't help but cry, wrapping her arms around Chrissy tight, Eddie loved her, loved her more than words could bare. "Why are you so fucking perfect?" Eddie asked softly, Chrissy's soft thumb wiping away the tears from her face. "Why are you perfect?" Chrissy asked back with a smile. "Cmon, lets go to bed yeah?" Eddie nodded, holding the one she loved close. For once, Eddie didn't feel like a freak, she felt euphoric.

[daydreamersandkins]

hello, welcome to daydreamers and kins! this is a perspective sideblog of differences between MaDDers, systems & alters, kins, and irls.

my name mr cheese /srs ! i go by he/him pronouns. you are OK to call me cheese or ricotta and my neopronouns is cheese/cheez/cheeself. i am a stimthusiast (term is OK to use to describe you!) autistic and as of January 15th, 2022, I discovered to be a maladaptive daydreamer after 6 complex years of "self-rping"/chatrooming/storylining relentlessly (/lh).

please do use tone indicators as i fall for "sarcastic" jokes sometimes that turn out to be dark and depressing. one time a friend said "aww i have a dog on my lap :)" and i responded "awwww doggy cute!!" then they replied "the dog's dead" and i went "oh" and almost spiraled. "please use /neg next time..." i indirectly muttered. (it's okay with this friend now though. they weren't aware of tone indicators back then)

if you're wondering about the old posts and self-reblogs of the old posts further below, this sideblog was originally a... i cant say the diagnosis anymore- a*p3rg3rs userpage when my past cheesy teen self reblogged tons of questionable and informative posts about autism, functioning labels, adhd moods, and tips to stim more when understimulated. well, that's what i summarize!

i bravely self-diagnosed myself with DID to the doctors before i was diagnosed with the n*z! label (the term i triggerblocked above) when i was sent to the doctors for therapy back at 12/14/17. this sounds very wrong, because my misunderstanding of DID was when i saw the title roles of each alter. i thought these alters were the characters i been controlling. until i learned alters cannot be controlled nor forced so that's when i realized my self-guessing is terribly wrong. to systems out there, know that i don't have what you're going through aside from memory problems and wall staring, and i hope you're all managing through ongoing pressure and experiences with ease. i'm learning about systems as i go along.

even better during my first therapy (/s) the entire internet, net neutrality was going to get shut down by some apple shit pie. after discovering the signs i applied to all, what made me go into a endless spiral of questioning was when i found out adhd and autism have some of the same signs, but has more differences. when i look at my actions, it seemed mild and combined. so i thought reblogging those adhd moods and autism tips were helpful and funny. a discord friend even told me about the backstory of the n*z! label. felt like my life became a lie that i never came back. it was a safe undertale/deltarune infodump server too :(

i had help a few times. i tried to explain to my therapist this entire flowchart i did that describe what i think caused my life fantasizing habit. my therapist looked very confused like she wasn't paying attention. then she never helped me again.

today i claim that i don't have ADHD nor DID. bolding because i don't want anyone to cancel/fakeclaim me. i am done questioning about having ADHD because thanks to the signs of pacing and stimming while fantasizing plots, i discovered to have maladaptive daydreaming disorder. everyday i always feel like imagining scenarios of anything possible. they have to do with my special interests, comfort characters (CCs for short!), headcanons, character development ability-wise, and environmental settings combined.

in this blog you will see personal experiences of my MD, others' personal experiences of their lifelong problems, facts i learn/know about mental health and mental health disorders, and cope around in my MD blog whereas i play around with my daydreaming trying my VERY VERY BEST to write it down which is the most hardest thing to jot, @fandomlife1st3rdpov . basically subcategories of facts, knowledge, life stories under mental health.

posts may appear sensitive/offensive so i will put content|trigger warnings and a "Keep Reading" border for your health.

[galacticlamps]

im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room. 

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little “Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

[jennrypan]

I..despise fics that make Adrien the bad guy and its usually.. described as he become clingy??? Sorry the kid whos barely shown any real affection from his home life, and anyone else, finds someone he cares about and holds on to them?? Like...people constantly bitch and whine about how marinette has it sooo bad, when she has two loving parents, great talent, supportive friends [even though, salters like to..forget that] the only thing stressful is school and being ladybug which is understandable and Lila but..Lila is..just there.

Adrien on the other hand, gets neglected by his dad, his mom disappeared, his mother figure is only his dads assistant and cant get too close to him, and shes been shown to rat him out if given the chance, and his other adult figure doesnt really speak, he also gets forced to work a modeling job and he has to do all this extra shit and miss out on hanging with his friends cuz if he doesnt do this crap his dad takes him outta school, also.. HE HAS TO DEAL WITH LILA TOO, MARINETTE ISNT THE ONLY ONE.

Adrien made a deal with the bitch, just so marinette could be left alone!

He tried to speak up for Marinette but got cut off by their dumbass principal ! Also..yeah Adrien takes his flirting and joking too far but Marinette isnt perfect either, shes stalked him a few times, sabotaged Kagami, even stolen Adriens phone and cant even form two sentences around the guy and wonders why he doesnt like her back/ know she likes him. Also...this isnt relevant to my post but it is.

ALYA DESERVES BETTER. She says one(1) thing and shes suddenly seen as violent, a bully a terrible friend.. SHES ONLY KNOWN MARINETTE FOR MAYBE A YEAR NOW??? And considering, how marinette behaves its kinda understandable why she’d think that cuz what she knows is Lila is just some new student, and she seems nice, and oh she was around Adrien, Marinette has a crazy crush on Adrien and shes done some weird shit in the name of her crush ! Yes Alya shouldn’t just dismiss her friend but that doesnt make her a terrible bully, you people are just so..I dont even know. Y’all just weird.

Just Adrien and Alya constantly get the short end of the stick and Marinettes put on this pedal as if shes some uwu soft princess who can do no wrong when theyre all like 14 and they make mistakes also..

Believing some girls lies in middle school..wouldnt affect their futures?? At all?? They’re not stupid.. and Luka absolutely would be more on his sisters side than some girl he doesnt even know that long. THATS HIS SISTER. If you know anything about siblings, siblings are ride or die ..if theyre good siblings obviously. So Luka obviously wouldnt allow his sister to be fucked over my Lila and Juleka would believe her brother! Just- that whole class deserves so much love istg.

[mimosaeyes]

If things don’t work out and he loses Jon tomorrow, Martin wants to remember him happy.

Post-199. Jon and Martin reflect on what has and could have been. 1.4k

Thanks @emberidzae and @distortion-noodles for the quick beta!

As they emerge into the hallway, Georgie pokes her head out of what must be her and Melanie’s bedroom. “Blankets and such are down that way,” she says, pointing. “Help yourself, yeah?”

If Martin weren’t observing Jon so closely, he might have missed the way he jumps at the words. Jon recovers swiftly, though. “Right. Thanks, Georgie.”

Martin hasn’t yet closed the door behind them. He leans back into the room to relay the information to Basira, only to find her already nodding and waving him off without looking up. “I heard her.”

She’s leaning against the table they’d all stood around while arguing about the plan. In her hands are two flat metal discs on a chain. It takes Martin a moment to place where he’d last seen them: hanging around Daisy’s neck.

He was slipping too far into the Lonely at the time to really pay attention, but Martin did notice that the dog tags disappeared after Daisy swore to resist the Hunt. He’s always assumed she got rid of them, destroyed them in a bid to purge the memory of her work for Section 31 — and the less than legal things she did besides.

“Found them while tracking her,” Basira explains, clearly guessing his train of thought. “She stopped wearing them, but she still carried them around. As a reminder, you know? Until…”

Until she gave in to the Entity calling her name. Until she left her humanity behind to protect her friends.

Martin swallows past a sudden lump in his throat. “If you need to talk, Basira—”

“I’m good,” she cuts him off. “I’m managing.”

He knows it’s the truth; they’d had plenty of time to catch up at the base of the cliff while Jon was recording. So he nods and leaves it at that, saying only, “Come find us anyway, if you change your mind.”

Her expression softens even as her voice takes on a wry edge. “Go on,” she chivvies, “go be soppy with your boyfriend somewhere else.”

“Somewhere far away from you, you mean?”

Basira snaps her fingers. “Got it in one. Always knew you were the smart one.”

The bedding Georgie mentioned turns out to be a huge pile of unrolled sleeping bags and unfolded blankets. The sight is amusingly incongruous for the three seconds it takes Martin to realise that these used to belong to the cult members, who have since been dragged back to their domains.

Gingerly, he steps forward to take what they need. Jon helps, his face stony.

They duck into the first empty room they come across and lay down enough padding to save their backs from the hard floor. Martin fusses with the makeshift bed while Jon stands and starts pacing.

Everything in Martin is saying to go to him and wrap him up in another hug, make up for the one Jon had pulled out of while his hands were still shaking and his cheeks still wet with tears. But he watches the tense lines of his body and thinks that Jon would only flinch away from comfort if he offered it again. So he sits down, leaving some space for Jon to join him when he’s ready, and waits.

It takes several minutes for Jon to look up at him. When he does, he bites his lip and says, “I’m sorry. It’s already been decided, I know, and I’m sick of rehashing the same old arguments with you.”

Martin lets out a short exhale. “I know. If the plan doesn’t work — I don’t want to spend our last hours together fighting.”

Jon blanches a little. “Hours,” he repeats softly, starting to shake his head. “I wish we had more time.”

“You don’t mean, uh… put it off, do you?” Martin doesn’t think he does, but it’s worth clarifying.

“What? Oh, no. Of course not.”

The huff of laughter that accompanies Jon’s words is gratifying. Martin decides to lean into it. “Because that would be a truly record-breaking act of procrastination,” he points out.

Jon smiles lopsidedly. “Speak for yourself. You haven’t seen me try to start writing an essay in university.”

“Fair enough,” Martin concedes, smiling back at him.

After a moment, Jon sobers again. “I mean, maybe we wouldn’t have been together, if not for all this, but — if I had to do it all over again, I think I’d waste less time. I’d… I don’t know, I’d tell you I’d missed you while I was abroad. Maybe admit that there were a couple of times when I didn’t really need your help looking something up, but called you anyway, so I could hear your voice.”

Martin blinks, momentarily surprised. Then he crows, “I knew it! I knew there wasn’t really a place called Desert Bluffs. I looked for mentions of it in statements for days, and the whole time you were — ha, you were bluffing.”

Good-naturedly, Jon rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m terrible at coming up with fake names on the spot.”

“But that would mean…” Martin furrows his brow at Jon. “That was when you were in America. And you already…”

Jon has been gradually closing the distance between them as they’ve talked. Now he eases himself down next to Martin, as always favouring the leg Sasha had once dug a worm out of with a corkscrew, and says simply, “Yes. I already knew I loved you. Maybe I wasn’t in love with you, not yet, but… yes.”

Martin will never get used to hearing Jon say he loves him. He knows he does, and it still takes his breath away every time. But right now, with a handful of hours until the morning, it makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his chest.

“You’re right,” he says quietly. “I wish we’d gotten our act together sooner.”

Beside him, Jon pulls his knees up to his chest, wrapping one arm around his legs and extending his other hand in Martin’s direction. Martin holds onto his hand, and they stay like that for a spell.

They’ve made an unspoken compact to not only avoid fighting on this last night, but also to keep things light. They’ve had so few wholly good days together, Martin reflects. If things don’t work out and he loses Jon tomorrow, he wants to remember him happy. He wants to make the time they have count.

He nudges Jon, letting his voice grow teasing again. “Hey. If I got to do it all over again, I’d ask you out on a kayaking date.”

“That’s... pretty specific,” Jon remarks.

“Tim gave me the idea. Early, early on, when he would make fun of me for having a crush on the boss. I’d bring you some tea and come back to my desk to find he’d texted me a link to a nearby kayak rental service. It was a different one each time, too.”

“You have to admire the commitment.” Jon pauses. “Can two people even fit in the same kayak?”

“I thought of that. There are tandem kayaks. I was going to win you over with my superior rowing skills.”

Jon laughs. “I think it would’ve worked.”

From just outside the door comes a rustling noise. Basira, probably, holding an armful of sleeping bag and looking for a place to bed down for the night.

After she goes past, Jon says ruefully, “We should probably get some rest.”

He looks about as tired as Martin feels. But everything now seems tinged with an air of finality. If they go to sleep, it might be the last time they curl up together. And it’ll make the morning come sooner.

It’s irrational, but he blurts out, “Not yet. I… I’m not ready.”

To say goodnight. To say goodbye.

Jon cants his head at him, and Martin wonders how transparent his thoughts are, playing across his features.

“Me neither,” Jon murmurs. He leans in closer and presses a kiss to Martin’s forehead. “Me neither.”

They stay up and talk, facing each other in bed. Neither of them has ever had a sleepover at a friend’s place, they discover, and yet this feels like that. Jon tells him about the lake he and Basira traversed, making it sound absolutely dreadful without Martin there to help with rowing. Martin starts describing Life of Pi and other movies Jon may never get to watch. Several times, he asks if Jon is sleeping with his eyes open, then laughs as he denies it.

In the end, Martin doesn’t even remember falling asleep — only that Jon is there with him, and that’s almost enough.

[also available on AO3 here]

[my TMA fic on AO3]

[violetnotez]

Can I request a storyline where reader and Ms. Joke gives advice to each other to ask their crushes out. (Reader crushing on Bakugou and Ms. Joke likes Eraserhead). Also I love your Dabi fic it's so damn amazing.

Anon I know this took so long but I loved this idea ALOT. Like-literally GENIUSSSSSSSS!!!! And omg I’m so happy you liked my Dabi fics!!!🥺😭

Another fic for the @bnhabookclub event! If you wanna join in, heres the link!

Also pls ignore that Ms Jokes shoulder has disappeared I forgot to fix it 💀

Bakugo x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 2000+

⤷ Warnings: cursing

⤷ Synopsis: As your helping your hero aunt Ms. Joke concoct a plan to win over Eraserhead, the conversation somehow turns to your crush on Bakugo. Even though you feel comfortable talking about the hotheaded boy with your aunt over the phone, you don’t realize how bad that idea is until a certain someone decided to eavesdrop outside the door.

Song Recs: ⤷ Leave This Place-Lione ⤷All This Time-Deorro ⤷Start It Over-NOTD

“Okay okay, how about this one-

“Can you pass me my inhaler, because you just took my breath away!”

Ms. Joke made an over exaggerated attempt at swooning, her voice airy and theatrical. You couldn’t help but giggle at her antics, your nose scrunching at the terrible pick up line she just gave you.

“I don’t think that one will work Auntie,” you mused, your phone on speaker as you tidied up your UA dorm room.

Not many people were aware of it, but your aunt was Ms. Joke, the comedy hero. It was quite a shocker when you let that information out to your classmates, as they couldn’t understand why you had went to UA over her hero school. It was true you had entertained the idea of going, but as much as you loved your aunt-you could only tolerate her for so long. She was so fun and energetic to be around, but that energy quickly became draining after a few hours.

The thought of having to be around your aunt every day made you feel tired just thinking about it, so you had kindly opted to try UA instead. Your aunt was a little disappointed that you had picked UA over her school, but she was over the moon excited for you to finally follow her footsteps and become a hero.

It also didn’t hurt that you would be around Aizawa quite a lot-and she definitely used that to her advantage.

“Oh Cmon tho, Jitter Bug, he would love it!” She exclaimed through the phone. “That one is such a laugh riot!”

“I think you forget that Mr. Aizawa isn’t too big on jokes,” you gave her a short giggle as you began to fold the freshly cleaned clothes on your bed.

“Hm….” she hummed in thought.

“What about-I’m thirsty, and guess whose body is 75% water? I’d then give him a killer smile to go along with it-he can’t say no to me then!”

Your cheeks turned incredibly red-the thought of your aunt hitting on your teacher so openly like that? Revolting.

You made a gagging noise at the prospect, a nervous laugh spilling out.

“I swear if you do that, I will dig my own grave and lay in there from second hand embarrassment,”

A belly laugh erupted in the other end of the line, Ms. Joke’s chuckles high pitched and uncontrollable.

“You really are a hard one to impress, huh?” She said between laughter.

“That type of pick up line is a little too young though-you babies are the ones that say ‘thirsty’ all the time…”

You heard a little hum on the other side of the phone, signaling she was thinking deeply.

“Why don’t you use that one on that boy you like, what’s his name again?”

She asked good naturedly, a hint of sneakiness in her voice. “It’s-Bakugo, Katsuki Bakugo, right?”

Your eyes went wide like saucers, your body language going rigid.

“Auntie you cant say that so loud, I’m on speaker phone!” You hushed her.

Your cheeks went insanely red, your head swiveling to look at your door.

Damn you and not closing it properly-anybody walking by could have heard!

Your aunt only knew about your crush because she had noticed you staring quite intently at Bakugou at your provisional licensing exam, her questions hard to not answer truthfully. She had promised not to tell anyone, not even your parents, but she used it against you nevertheless.

You sighed a breath of relief once you were satisfied that no one had walked by, your head turning back to your phone call.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Unknowing to you, someone had walked by-Bakugo.

It was later in the day and getting close to his early bedtime, so he had come up to tell you to be quiet.

It felt strange walking up to your room-Bakugo knew he was beginning to like you, more than just a classmate or a friend, yet he didn’t quite want to believe it.

He shouldn’t have all these vulnerable feelings, he should be focusing on training and nothing more. But the more and more he tried to ignore it the more and more he realized how much he truly admired you-you were so damn pretty to him, your laugh and smile always making a blush rise to his cheeks, and the way you would look at him so innocently whenever he spoke to you made his whole world light up.

He liked how you respected him, but you would also put him in his place if needed.You were really one of the few only people he would listen to, which made it even worse-you had a power over him you didn’t even know about. It frustrated him, but he cared about your opinion too damn much to openly defy your wishes.

It sucked how easily he’d fallen for you, but he couldn't make it stop, no matter how hard he tried.

Just as he trudged up the stairs to your room, he noticed the door unlocked, a strange thing for him to see since he had prepared himself to knock. Whatever-less time waiting outside your door. He lightly leaned himself against the adjacent wall, ready to yell his warning at you quickly until he heard the familiar voice of Ms. Joke speak his name from a phone call.

The hell were you even talking about?

He couldn’t help it, he had to listen in, it was him you were talking about after all. As much as he didnt want to care, he hoped it was only good things you were speaking of, his heart fluttering when he heard your aunt say “you like him.”

Was it true? Did you really feel the same for him?

Bakugo instantly felt himself to sweat, his vermillion eyes wide as he prayed the news he was hearing wasn’t a lie-you had to like him back. You just had to.

Ms. Joke laughed at your distress, her voice lighthearted and loud.

“Oops, sorry!” She said, not a single ounce of remorse in her tone. “But really, y/n, what do you see in that boy! He’s so-well-“

“Harsh?” You finished her sentence, shuffling on your bed.

“Exactly! He’s always so mean and entitled too-you can’t find another boy in UA? What about Shoto-hes a pretty one!”

You gave a giggle, your hands fiddling nervously with your hair.

“Shoto is just a friend Auntie, and besides, he’s quite reserved-Bakugo isn’t,” you sighed, “Ive never meant anyone like him before.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Bakugo’s heart beat painfully in his chest from outside the door.

This was fucking wrong-he was being a total creepster eaves dropping in your private conversation.

He kept telling himself that this was all okay, because you were talking about him and it was your goddamn fault for speaking about him behind his back-

But he knew deep down it was because he wanted so badly to know. He just wanted to be reassured that there was a connection between you two and he could pursue it somehow.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

“He’s just so-different. He is really harsh and brutally honest-it makes him kinda unique in a way. He’s always so driven, trying to do his best to be the best-it’s infectious, ya know? I can't help but admire him for that.”

you admired him? god, hearing those words sent him over the moon. You sounded so sweet and so soft as you relayed all your inner feelings to Ms. Joke, his heart was practically swooning.

Your aunt gave a small nod at your words, her voice much more understanding.

“Have you talked to him? Tried to ask him out or do anything you little kiddies usually do when you have a crush?” She asked playfully.

You sighed, your hands combing through your hair.

“Oh I could never! He wouldn’t like me back-he’s too into his school work. And he is super harsh-god I don’t know what I’d do if he’d reject me….”

“I understand you full heartedly JitterBug,” she used your nickname again, a groan slipping out of your lips.

“Are you yiu ever going to stop calling me that!”

“Never!” She exclaimed, her voice loud and cheerful again. “Your my wonderful little JitterBug and I’m going to keep calling you that until I kick the bucket!

“But really,” she sighed, her tone much more serious. “You never know until you try! I got rejected myself many, many, MANY times-but Im still doing perfectly fine!”

You held back a small snicker-your aunt, the Jokester Hero, who can’t hold a conversation without cackling like a maniac, the one who wears the most ridiculous outfits, has a chaotic fighting style, and has been pinning over the same guy since her internship days as a rookie?

Yeah, perfectly fine isn’t the best way you would describe her.

You simply hummed a nod in order to satiate her a response, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Ugh, I just got a call-they need me to help out with some robbery,” you aunt huffed out, her tone clearly tired. You felt a little bad for the hero-she must have been having a pretty crazy day.

“I’m sorry we had to cut our call so short!”

“Oh no it’s no problem!” You reasuresed her happily, “stay safe out there!”

“You two Jitterbug! Byeeeee!” She practically yelled her goodbye into the phone, making you flinch.

You breathed a tranquil sigh, readying yourself to start studying for your tests when you heard a loud banging upon your door.

“Oi, dumbass, can I come in for a minute?” The gruff voice of Bakugo filled the room, making your blood shiver-

Bakugo?!? Wait-was he there the whole time?!?

You teeth were practically chattering from that overwhelming fear, your cheeks red and your eyes wide.

You seriously were going to crawl into a hole and never come out if he heard that whole conversation.

You crawled off your bed, your hand making their way to the door to peak it open slightly.

Bakugo’s heart was thumping violently in his chest-now he knew you felt the same for him, this was going to be extremely easy. But he still felt really nervous, especially when your hair was so perfectly messy like that and your cheeks were dusted with pink like you were already nervous yourself.

God damn, why did you have to be so attractive? It just messed everything up for him, making him feel like he couldn’t think straight.

“Hey Bakugo, I-Uh-what’s up? Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” he replied gruffly, his nerves making his hand sweat more than usual. “something like that,”

Damn quirk, he thought in annoyance, shoving his hands into his pants. “You gonna let me in?”

“Oh-uh,”you began to stutter, shifting away from the door and opening it up slightly, “sure, yeah!”

He grinned to himself at your adorableness-did you always act this nervous around him? How did he not notice you like him before-it was so obvious to see now when you were fidgeting like that.

He strutted into your room, a new found confidence in him as he shut the door of the room for you, practically trapping you in with him. A mischievous smirk graced his lips, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Don’t want anyone overhearing by accident cause you cant close a door right,”

You groaned in embarrassment.

Welp-he knew.

You gave him a small look, your eyes doe -like and scrunched up in uneasiness.

“How much of that did you hear?” You asked timidly.

Bakugo scoffed, that shit eating grin still plastered on his face.

“All of it, Jitterbug,”

You groaned yet again, plopping your body onto the bed in embarrassment.

How could this happen?! He was right-you should have closed the door! You covered your face with your hands, your fingers trailing against your forehead and your hair.

“God I’m so sorry, I probably sounded like a creep, I didn’t mean to-“ you tried to apologize and explain yourself, your cheeks a cherry red.

“Do you like me?” He interrupted you, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You looked up timidly-god, was he always this intimidating?

He was standing right in front you, his overwhelming stature making you feel so small and overpowered. He was wearing this strange smirk, as if he was enjoying interrogating you.

That usually wasn’t a Bakugo thing to do, to smirk like that, but damn, was it kinda-hot. You could really only focus on that, on the way his lips curled up so softly like he was happy about something but trying to repress it. It was warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but feel some of your awkwardness melt away.

“How would you feel if I said ‘yes’?” You tried your best to lighten the mood some what, a nervous smile slipping against your lips.

Bakugo knelt down, his body so much more closer to you. His hands went on each side of your legs, his thumbs just brushing your outer thigh. He caged you in to the bed with his arms, his face mere inches from yours.

Well shit.

You felt the blood rush to your face, your ears pounding-you never knew he felt this warm so close, and god-did he really smell like salted caramel? His vermillion eyes were boaring to yours, sending your senses into over drive.

“And how would it feel if I said ‘yes’?” He turned your words against you, his voice husky and deep form being so close.

You squirmed from nerves, your hands going to play with your hair. It was so strange being so close to him, and you didn’t know what to do.

You looked so cute flustered like this-Bakugo internally tried to remember this perfectly, mentally writing down your adorable mannerisms and facial expression to memory. As much as he loved this, you were taking too long for a reply, and he was getting a little annoyed.

“What was that? I’m still waiting,” he asked gruffly, his voice low and sultry.

You gulped, feeling a pang in your heart from hearing that type of voice come from him. Directed to you.

“I-Uh-yes, I-I do, I've liked you for a while now,” you revealed, your cheeks practically tomato red.

He smirked at your expression, slowly lifting his body with off the weight.

You looked up in confusion, already feeling cold without his warm body so close to yours.

“Good,” he replied, his voice prideful, “cause I feel the same way.”

“You do!” You practically shouted, your eyes wide with shock.

The Bakugo-“liked you” liked you? You could practically scream with happiness.

“Well yeah dumbass, why would I say that if I didn’t?” He chuckled slightly, his bright red eyes still drinking you in.

Now his nerves were coming out again, a heaviness feeling his stomach as he realized what he had to do now.

“I-I’m not good at this shit, but-

“Wanna go out tomorrow?”

You were practically screaming like a little girl internally. This was happening? Was this all just a cruel dream?

Only one way to figure out if this was real or not.

You stood up from the bed, bringing yourself close to the hot head.

Now it was Bakugo’s turn to be embarrased-he was getting too comfortable being the one to make you nervous. He forgot how you could make him so flustered, your warm smile and pretty eyes making his heart thump painfully and his mind go into a panicked standstill.

Your hands shakily wrapped around his neck, slow to see how he would react.

God, you had thought about touching his hair for so long now, it was even better than you imagined-soft and fluffy like a cloud, you ran your hands through the spiky locks. The faint smell of caramel wafted into your nose agaun, making you feel nervous and calm at the same time.

He was slightly rigid, staring at you with shocked eyes-but he seemed to not mind this. You smiled softly, your heart thumping-it was now or never.

You slowly got on your toes and leaned yourself into his lips, surprised how warm they felt. At first he didn’t move, which scared you-but he eventually began to move against your lips, a little rough but still pleasant. A flood of warmth filled your body, your hands relaxing against his body. You felt his arms wrap around your body, his lips now taking the lead and guiding you into him.

You couldn’t believe how good this felt, how perfect and surreal it was.

But you remembered-sadly- breathing was a thing, your lungs burning as you both reluctantly pulled away.

You thanked your aunt for her loud mouth in your blissful daze, because without her, you wouldn’t be kissing your crush now.

You smiled at the blonde, his cheeks dusted with red and his eyes drinking you in.

“Tomorrow sounds great.”

[lepertamar]

notes about the stalking and the glory of god short story taken a while back before i read the second book:

"Tamar tries—tries—to keep her eyes from overtly lighting up."

"But the experience of God still swirls in Safirah’s limp arm, the pulses of flame under it seeming almost bright enough as to *sear into Tamar’s eyes*…"

my favorite favorite FAVORITE part though was the thing where tamar tries to describe it to eliya and says ‘she did something sacred and she’s still burning?’

like!!!!!!

and tamar’s sort of.......idk, she can tell how much it means and matters, like, thinking, ‘that woman would have said one of g-d’s names....and after that she would never be able to say anything again....’

like she correctly interprets ‘someone doing that implies a BIG DEAL, that price means something’s REALLY important’ and it’s so........yes. the price-as-declaration....... declaration that you did something secret and terrible and irrevocable and worth it and are still burning......aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

safirah’s arm thing with the..... ‘tamar can almost feel the patterns are saying something’ or w/e the line was....!

and the ‘eyes hard like diamonds’

kind of reminds me a bit of....eliya and yenatru’s pov of tamar in stars.....the ‘there’s something of her that’s so Much....something important’

it’s so contagious and recursive and domino-effect

-

also tamar felt so much......less. less herself, less of a realized person, less true. and not in a bad-writing way but in a sort of....she hasn’t truly Become the way she had clearly Become even in the prologue of stars before she saw G-d, where the wanting and the truthfulness to herself of wanting had made her Be

(lurkfriend adds the following:

even if she cant say why she wants it... she just knows she wants it and she trusts her desire more than anything else...

trust in desire as in... not necessarily not caring about consequences but as in knowing the consequences will be worth it...

insert digression here about how its difficult to split the act from the consequences anyway, how the desires for an act can also be the desire for the consequence (even if the consequence is undesirable on its own...)

desire are matter-worthy and meaning-making in and of itself...)

....and not intended in a glorifying of suffering way but in a, let’s say wrestling way ~_* : almost sort of....the consequence is WHY it was worth it. as in: G-d being intense enough that seeing Them would matter like that, matter enough to burn her eyes out for it, IS being intense enough to burn her eyes out...act-consequence one-and-the-same.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

should i stay or should i go

Bad Decisions Masterlist

Pairing: Ezra x f!reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence

Word Count: 1.3k

Authors Note: Surprise! I made another au! This time with Ezra! I cant really describe it, but the best way is to call it a modern, road trip au, if that’s even a thing. Anyway, thank you @javisjeanjacket for being so amazing and spectacular and dealing with all my questions (love you!). Here it is, please let me know what y’all think!

“Stupid fucking piece of shit!” You kick against the front wheel of your car, which has yet again decided to stop working. You pop the hood, and almost start to cry when you realize that you have no idea how to fix whatever the issue is. Your car had been with you for over a decade, after saving up for it when you turned 16. And, apparently, it decided the best time to stop working was on your 20 hour drive back to Texas.

Tears of frustration are about to fall when you realize that you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, Texas, and you most certainly aren’t dressed to wander down a desolate Texas highway.

You mentally start cursing your attire, a knee length floral dress and the nicest pair of sandals you owned. It wasn’t terrible to drive in, but standing on the edge of the highway was a completely different story. You’d only been wearing it for about 6 hours, but now you wished you’d stayed in the comfortable shorts and baggy t-shirt you had been wearing while driving yesterday.

You were driving to see your mom, who’s been lonely ever since your dad had passed and you had moved away. You figured that as her only daughter it was your duty to come home and be with her, at least for a little while. And, at the time, it had seemed like a good idea to show up in one of the dresses she had sent to you, but now you were beating yourself up for that decision.

Texas had always been too stifling to you, with the heat and the barren land and the people who expected too much and too little of you. It was no place to live your dreams, no place to thrive. When you were younger, you had dreamed of going to Hollywood, and becoming an actress, just like the women in the old movies you grew up watching.

And when you realized that that dream was dead before it could live, you set your sights on poetry and drawing and writing. You needed to be known, to be loved, to be appreciated. And you couldn’t do that in your tiny Texas town.

You start cursing out loud when you realize that not only do you not have reception, your cell phone is completely dead. You’re in the middle of spewing out any curse word you can think of in any language you know when a red car pulls over.

Great, just fucking great, you think to yourself, my car breaks down and now I’m going to get murdered. You look over and see a man getting out of the car, so you instinctively wrap your arms around your middle. He starts to walk over to you, and you take in what he’s wearing.

He’s wearing an aggressively yellow t-shirt, with a garish floral patterned button down on top. You look back up to his face, and are met with a pair of aviator sunglasses, which he pushes up to his forehead as he approaches. This draws your attention to his hair, and the blonde patch right by his forehead. He speaks before you have time to look over him anymore.

“Ma’am?” He asks when he’s close enough to speak without yelling, and you take in his accent. He’s obviously from the south, though you’re not quite sure where he’s from, his smooth drawl relaxing you into dropping your arms.

“I’m fine.” You say harshly, wishing he would simply leave you be. You could figure this out by yourself. He raises his hands in surrender, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sure I can be of some assistance to you.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

There’s a few moments of silence where he simply looks you over, and you feel your heart rate speed up. You realize a second later that he’s looking at the car. If he wanted your dead it would have already happened, you think to yourself, in some strange form of reassurance.

He chuckles, before he says, “I realize just how absurd this situation is, but I can assure you, I wish for nothing but to be of some assistance to you. I’m sure that’s not exactly reassuring coming from a stranger, but if you would prefer, I can drive away and forget you and your plight on the side of the highway.”

“Do you have a phone I could use? Mine’s dead.” You decide to bite the bullet and take him up on his offer for help.

“Of course,” he pulls out his cellphone from his back pocket, and hands it to you. You return it, however, because it’s still locked. He quickly unlocks it and hands it back to you with a grin.

You quickly dial your mom’s number, wanting her to know why you haven’t arrived yet and for her to hopefully send someone to get you.

“Hey mom- of course it’s me, who else calls you mom? My car stopped working- well, I do take care of it, but it’s a piece of shit. Jesus Christ mom, let me finish. It broke down and I’m stranded on a highway, some guy pulled over to help me and let me use his phone. No, he’s not going to kill me.” You lower the phone from your ear and ask the man, “You gonna kill me?”

He chuckles again and shakes his head. “He said no. Anyway, mom- what do I want you to do? I don’t know, I don’t know what to do. Can you please help? Literally anything is better than what I’m doing now. No, mom, I just-“ you sigh as you lower the phone and hand it back to the man.

“She hung up. I’m sorry for troubling you, you can go now.” You see the look on his face, one that seems to be a mix of confusion and pity. “I’m fine,” you reassure him, “I’ll figure something out.”

“I would hate to leave you in such a vulnerable situation. You’re sure there’s absolutely nothing I could do for you? I could simply keep you company. I’ve been told I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

You laugh, before responding, “I’m sure you are,” you pause and furrow your brows, before adding, “but I don’t even know your name.”

“Ezra,” he grins and extends his hand, which you shake while giving him your name. “Ah, a magnificent name for a magnificent person.” You laugh before responding, “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

He simply winks at you, sending you laughing once again.

“I could always give you a ride, if you’d prefer that to standing out here in this desolate hellscape.”

“Thanks, but my town is super out of the way, you don’t need to do anything else for me.”

“How do you know it’s out of my way? Perhaps it’s my destination as well?”

“Alright, then where are you going?” You inquire with a grin and crossed arms.

“Absolutely nowhere. I’m simply letting life take me where it must. And, now, it’s going to take me to wherever your destination is.”

“Fine. Let me get my stuff first.” As weird as it seemed, you felt safe with Ezra. Sure, he was a stranger, and maybe you were just dumb and drawn to him in some weird way, but he had plenty of opportunities to hurt you or steal from you or do whatever his ulterior motive was.

But he had kept his distance from you, and was nothing but kind to you. And, you wanted to get to know this man with an extensive vocabulary and unplaceable accent. It wouldn’t be so bad to have him drive you the last few hours of your journey.

“Of course.” He takes a few steps back, giving you room to move around your car and take your things. You leave a note on the dashboard and stuff your keys into your pockets. You take your bags from the back, along with a few personal things scattered throughout your car. You have the feeling that you wouldn’t be returning to it anytime soon.

[kkintle]

The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch ; Quotes

One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats, and if some of these can me inexpensive and quickly procured so much the better.

There will be time and motive enough to prose on about my life when I shall have generated as it were a sufficient cloud of reflection. I am still almost shy of my emotions, shy of the terrible strength of certain memories.

I always felt that we were in the same boat, adventuring along together (…) We enjoyed and craved for each other’s company. What a test that is: more than devotion, admiration, passion. If you long and long for someone’s company you love them.

Is it true however? Well, it is not totally misleading, but it is far too short and ‘smart’. How can one describe real people?

Did I face it well? I think I did. Forgiveness and money were so ready as soon as I knew that she was doomed. That sounds cynical. I always loved her; and we were rewarded. At the very end we were both perfect. Poor Clement. That is a dreadful land, old age. I shall soon be entering it myself.

The image of Hartley changed in my mind from fiery pain to sadness, but never became blank. And in a way, I did keep searching for her, only it was a different and quite involuntary kind of search, a sort of dream-search.

Oh Hartley, Hartley, how timeless, how absolute love is. My love for you is unaware that I am old and you perhaps are dead.

‘I could have told you that country is the least peaceful and private place to live. The most peaceful and secluded place in the world is a flat in Kensington.’

I confess that I went to Peregrine not only for a drinking bout and a chat with and cold friend, but for male company, sheer complicit male company: the complicity of males which is like, indeed is, a kind of complicity in crime, in chauvinism, in getting away with things, in just gluttonously enjoying the present even if hell is all around.

‘We are such inward creatures, that inwardness is the most amazing thing about us, even more amazing than our reason. But we cannot just walk into the cavern and look around. Most of what we think we know are pseudo-knowledge. We are all such shocking poseurs, so good at inflating the importance of what we think we value. (…) People lie so, even we old men do. Though in aa way, if there is art enough it doesn’t matter, since there is another kind of truth in the art’.

‘And if there is art enough a lie can enlighten us as well as the truth. What is the truth anyway, that truth? As we know ourselves we are fake objects, fakes, bundles of illusions. Can you determine exactly what you felt or thought or did? We have to pretend in law courts that such things can be done, but that is just a matter of convenience. Well, well, it doesn’t signify. (…)’

‘(…) Do you know what marriage is like? You say she’s unhappy, most people are. A long marriage is very unifying, even if it’s not ideal, and those old structures must be respected. You may not think much of her husband, but he may suit her, however impressed she is by meeting you again. Has she said she wants to be rescued?

How very convenient these cliché phrases are, how soothing to the pained mind, and how misleading, how concealing.

It is an interesting fact about jealousy (…) that although it is in so many respects a totally irrational as well as totally irresistible emotion, it does show a certain limited reasonableness where temporal priority is concerned.

I love her, I thought, just as if I have been married to her all those years and have seen her gradually grow old and lose her beauty.

You’ve lived in a hedonistic dream all your life, and you’ve got away with behaving like a cad because you always picked on women who could look after themselves. And my God you told us the score, you never committed yourself, you never said you loved us even when you did! A cold fish with clear hands! But it was just luck really if the girls survived.

She summoned up my whole being, and I wanted to hold her and to overwhelm her an to lie with her forever, jusqu’a la fin du monde, and yes, to amaze her humility with the forces of my love, but also to be humble myself and to let her, in the end, console me and give me back my own best self.

After looking at the bright candles I could at first see nothing, and it struck me in an odd way that while I was talking to Hartley I had forgotten about the sea, forgotten it was there and now felt confounded and at a loss to find myself half blind among those terrible rocks.

The formation of my love for Clement, had been one of the main tasks and achievements of my life: that love which so often almost failed but never quite failed.

Being in love, that’s another slavery, stupid when you come to think of it, mad really. You make another person into God. That can’t be right (…) Real love, is free and sane. (…) Real love is like in a marriage when the glamour is gone. (…) Love. God, how often we uttered that word in the theatre and how little we even thought about it.

‘Yes, it’s strange, but in a way I do know you, and there isn’t anyone else who’s near me like that. I support it’s just because we were young, and later you cant know people, or I couldn’t.’

‘It’s happened fast because it’s right, it’s easy because it’s right.’

‘I wish I was dead, I think I’m going to die soon, I feel it. Sometimes I felt I would die by wishing it when I went to sleep but I always woke up again and found I was still there. Every morning finding I’m still me, that’s hell.’ ‘Well, get out of hell then! The gate’s open and I’m holding it!’ ‘I cant. I’m hell, myself.’

‘You just want someone to remember things with.’

It ceased at last, as everything dreadful has to cease, even if it ceases only by death. My presence, my cries, had no effect on her, I doubt if, in a sense, she knew I was there, although also, in a sense, the performance was for me, its violence directed at me.

I remembered, as I now did whenever I awoke, with a pang of anguish and love and fear, that Hartley was in the house.

(…) and although, with her disordered grey hair she looked old and mad, she seemed in that arrested moment like a queen.

‘And you are using this thing from the far past as a guide to important and irrevocable moves which you propose to make in the future. You are making a dangerous induction, and induction is shaky at the best of times, consider Russell’s chicken –‘ ‘Russell’s chicken?’ ‘The farmer’s wife comes out every day and feeds the chicken, but one day she comes out and wrings its neck.’

‘Not to worry. Sic biscuits disintegrat.’ ‘What?’ ‘That’s the way the cookie crumbles.’

We did not dare to say much to each other. By now I wanted the whole thing to be over. I could scarcely endure the idea that she might even now say ‘I don’t think I want to go after all.’; and the impulse to cry out ‘Stop!’ was a pain which I urgently wanted to be without. Perhaps she felt much the same.

James said, ‘I hope you don’t feel that I’ve influenced you in any way against your better judgement?’ ‘No.’ I was not going to argue that point. Of course he had influenced me. But what was my judgement, let alone better judgement?

‘Time can divorce us from the reality of people, it can separate us from people and turn them into ghosts. Or rather it is us who turn them into ghosts or demons. Some kinds of fruitless preoccupations with the past can create such simulacra, and they exercise power, like those heroes at Troy fighting for a phantom Helen.’

‘I’m not calling her a ghost. She is real, as human creatures are, but what reality she has is elsewhere. She does not coincide with your dream figure. You were not able to transform her. You must admit you tried and failed.’

‘(…) It is a mental charade, a necessary one perhaps, it has its own necessity, but not like what you think. Of course you can’t get over it at once. But in a few weeks or a few months you’ll have run through it all, looked at it all again and felt it all again and got rid of it. It’s not an eternal thing, nothing human is eternal. For us, eternity is an illusion. It’s like in a fairy tale. When the clock strikes twelve it will all crumble to pieces and vanish. And you’ll find you are free of her, free of her forever and you can let the poor ghost go. What will remain will be ordinary obligations and ordinary interests. And you’ll feel relief, you’ll feel free. At present, you’re just obsessed, hynotised.’

‘(…) When you’ve known someone from childhood, when you can’t remember when they weren’t there, that’s not an illusion. She’s woven into me. Don’t you understand how one can be so absolutely connected with somebody like that?’

‘(…) I gave her the meaning of my life long ago, I gave it to her and she still has it. Even if she doesn’t know she has it, she has it.’

‘Just like even if she’s ugly she’s beautiful and even if she doesn’t love you she loves you – ‘ ‘But she does –‘ ‘Charles, either this is very fine, very noble, or else you’re mad.’

‘(…) You mustn’t interfere in other people’s lives, especially married people. That’s in a way why marriage is so awful, I can’t think how anyone dares to do it. You’ve got to leave them alone. They’ve got their own way of hating each other and hurting each other, they enjoy it.’

‘”For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.”(…)’

Some kinds of obsession, of which being in love is one, paralyses the ordinary free-wheeling of the mind, its natural open interested curious mode of being, which is sometimes persuasively defined as rationality. I was sane enough to know that I was in a state of total obsession and that I could onlythink, over and over again, certain agonising thoughts, could only run continually along the same rat-paths of fantasy and intent. But I was not sane enough to interrupt this mechanical movement or even to desire to do so.

‘(…) And perhaps I was pleased to see you. We sometimes like to see people whom we hate and despise so that we can stir them up to further demonstrations of how odious they are.’

‘Jealousy is born with love, but does not always die with love.’

‘(…) Ordinary mediocre people think that if they confess one tenth of the truth they’re in the clear. You’ve made all your words into lies, you’ve devalued your speech and – in a moment you’ve spoiled the past – and there’s nothing to rely on any more.’

There were a few clouds, big lazy chryselephantine clouds that loafed around over the water exuding light. I gazed at them and wondered at myself for being too obsessed to be able to admire the marvels that surrounded me. But knowing how blind I was did not make me see.

(…) people can be light sources, without ever knowing, for years in the lives of others, while their own lives take different and hidden courses. Equally, one can be, and I recalled Peregrine’s words, a monster, a cancer, in the mind of someone whom one has half forgotten or even never met.

As James said, ‘If even a dog’s tooth is truly worshipped it glows with light.’

‘Can you hear the sea?’

‘I think you’re nearly through out of it. You’ve built a cage of needs and installed here in an empty space in the middle. The strong feelings are all around her – vanity, jealousy, revenge, your love for your youth – they aren’t focused on her, they don’t touch her. She seems to be their prisoner, but really you don’t harm her at all. You are using her image, a doll, a simulacrum, it’s an exorcism. Soon you will start seeing her as a wicked enchantress. Then you will have nothing to do except forgive here and that will be within your capacity.’

‘The sea is clean. The mountains are high. I think I am becoming drunk.’ ‘The sea is not all that clean,’ said James. ‘Did you know that dolphins sometimes commit suicide by leaping onto the land because they are so tormented by parasites?’ ‘I wish you hadn’t told me that. Dolphins are such good beasts. So even they have their attendant demons.’

‘What after all is superstition?’ said James, pouring some more wine into both glasses. ‘What is religion? Where does the one end and the other begin? How could one answer that question about Christianity?’

‘(…) But this power is dreadful stuff. Our lusts and attachments compose our god. And when one attachment is cast off another arrived by way of consolation. We never give up pleasure absolutely, we only barter it for another.’ (…)

What was my role in this play? I felt myself being relaxed and smiling like a man in a dream who cannot remember his lines but knows he can manage impromptu.

If there’s any fruitless mental torment which is greater than that of jealousy it is perhaps remorse. Even the pains of loss may be less searching; and often of course these agonies combine, as now they did for me. I say remorse not repentance. I doubt if I have ever experienced repentance in a pure form; perhaps it does not exist in a pure form. Remorse contains guilt, but helpless hopeless guilt which knows of no cure for the painful bite.

However life, unlike art, has an irritating way of bumping and limping on, undoing conversions, casting doubt on solutions, and generally illustrating the impossibility of living happily or virtuously even after (…)

Time, like the sea, unties all knots. Judgements on people are never final, they emerge from summing up which at once suggest the need of a reconsideration. Human arrangements are nothing but loose ends and hazy reckoning, whatever art may otherwise pretend in order to console us.

But am I so exceptional? We must live by the light of our self-satisfaction, through that secret vital busy inwardness which is even more remarkable than our reason. Thus we must live unless we are saints, and are there any? There are spiritual beings, perhaps James was one, but there are no saints.

There may be no saints, but there is at least one proof that the light of self-satisfaction can illuminate the whole world.

Of course this chattering diary is a façade, the literary equivalent of the everyday smiling face which hides the inward savages of jealousy, remorse, fear and the consciousness of irretrievable moral failure. Yet such pretences are not only consolations but may even be productive of a little ersatz courage.

That time of attentive mourning for her death was quite unlike the black blank horror of the thing itself. We had mourned together, trying to soothe each other’s pain. But that shared pain was so much less than the torment of her vanishing, the terrible lived time of her eternal absence. How different each death is, and yet it leads us into the self-same country, that country which we inhabit so rarely, where we see that worthlessness of what we have long pursued and will so soon return to pursuing.

There were no trains going where she was.

I cannot now remember the exact sequence of events in those prehistoric years. That we cannot remember such things, that our memory, which is ourself, is tiny, limited and fallible, is also one of the important things about us, like our inwardness and our reason. Indeed it is the very essence of both.

The only fault which I can at all measure is my own.

Anything can be tarnished by association, and if you have enough associations you can blacken the world. (…) In hell or in purgatory there would be no need of other or more elaborate tortures.

My love for you is quiet at last. I don’t want it to become a roaring furnace. If I could have suffered more I would have suffered more. Receive us now as if we were your children. Tenderness and absolute trust and communication and truth matter more and more as one grows older. Somehow let us not waste love, it is rare. Can we not love each other at last in freedom, without awful possessiveness and violence and fear? Love matters, not ‘in love’. Let there be no more partings now. Let there be peace between us now forever, we are no longer young. Love me, Charles, love me enough.

I suppose that is right, though there is a kind of impiety involved in letting any of James’s stuff go away. Do I then suppose he is likely to come back at any moment?

It is strange to think that when I went to the sea I imagined that I was giving up the world. But one surrenders power in one form, and grasps it in another.

[fishfem]

On the post about Spanish teachers wearing skirts to show support for a feminine boy student/GNC boy in the tags you said that would never happen to a GNC girl, can you explain? A lot of GNC girls expression is to adopt masculinity fashion expressions which now are very normalised (eg: wearing pants and having short hair). I’m actually curious and not trying to start shit.

no problem! i understand where this confusion comes from. women are allowed to wear neutral clothing like pants now (even though theyre often stylized and skinny cut with terrible pockets) while men cant wear dresses, and that feels unequal, no?

but the fact is, if a woman gets short hair— and not short hair like a pixie cut, but like a "normal masculine haircut" 1. its extremely hard to even convince someone to do it to you and 2. you get bullied and called a d*ke.

with short hair (and many slightly less feminized things as ill continue to explain) women are expected to trade a slight widening in what is considered feminine for even stricter rules and regulations of that expansion. it's never an approval of women being androgynous of masculine.

if a woman is gnc in most often 2 ways but it even happens with just one, theyre discarded as a lost cause, and often it can be hard for them to even be recognized as women because that has become so entertwined with femininity. man are human and women are feminine humans. when a woman breaks that, people will assume shes male despite all to the contrary, be homophobic, misogynistic, etc.

women may be able to have short hair, but often only feminized cuts. if they dare to have something you cant really feminize like a buzzcut, youre often pushed and pressured into overcompensating in a different method of femininity, like makeup, or dress. think girl with a shaved head wearing makeup and a summer dress. this combination is not a coincidence, that it is much more popular than "girl with buzzcut wearing no makeup, a unisex shirt, and pants".

this isnt a soft push. in school, bullying is rampant, and parents often wont even let young girls be gnc. they wont let them cut their hair, or if they do, it cant possibly be to a non-feminized cut.

this is a really small slice as im not sure how to describe the whole phenomenon, but the biggest point is, none of this is recognized.

there is a lot of recognization that men and boys are bullied and punished for engaging with femininity. as its become commodified, more and more places have started to allow and encourage it. on the opposite end, however, no one even acknowledges that women are not allowed any sort of neutral. nor the pressure to compensate for any "deficits" in femininity. nor how actually being gnc is practically unheard of, /especially/ in more than one way and without intense compensation for it.

additionally, this stretches into adulthood where women are literally less likely to get jobs not even for being gnc fully, but for just not wearing makeup. another thing completely ignored.

the push for male gnc acceptance is definitely tied to the fact that femininity makes money, so corps would love to encourage the development of a new market. on the other hand, female nonconformity is often just existing naturally, and makes no money. it loses them money. thats bad. thats why they popularize eyeliner so sharp it can kill a man, the idea that makeup and shaving are choices!!! but ofc our commercial shows the Right choice!!!! why theres no media push about accepting gnc girls.

this culminates into a word where if teachers see two gnc kids getting bullied. they will simply care more for the boy. theyll view it as more dangerous or more important. they may not even notice the girl, or theyll view it as just infighting. worse, they may just not care.

gncness is stamped out of women more and more. when i grew up, it wasnt until hs and i had already transitioned that i saw 1 genuinely not feminine woman or girl in real life. and she was still the only one. now in college, ive seen a few. theres me, too, but i pass as male often unintentionally, so they dont see me. what i have sesn is aside from the very few who divest all femininity, it has become more and more strict for those who try to follow it even a little. theyre able to get away with less and less.