#i think i've written this post before lol

[rey-jake-therapist]

I'm not a Dreamuse shipper by any means, but each time I read that Calliope and Morpheus are "totally unshippable" because "they're done and only bounded by Orpheus' death", or because if they got back together Dream would send her to Hell since, apparently, that's what he does to all the women he dates (I already expressed myself about this strange claim here.), I feel the urge to write a couple of Dreamuse short fics where it actually *works* out of spite.

Like... Sure, it's much easier to start a brand new whole story from scratch and use every available trope, than take an existing, broken relationship where the author left it and fix it with notions of (self-) forgiveness and mutual comfort. Hey look, I've written a Dream x OC fic myself so of course I totally understand this choice. But don't go and tell me that the potential of a post-fishbowl reconciliation isn't HUGE.

Do you know what upsets me with all these claims that Dream would do the same thing to Calliope (or any other female character he could potentially date) as he did to Nada? It's that it completely denies the fact that being trapped and isolated for 100 years changed Dream. It's like when Daniel is compared with Morpheus, with the claim that they're completely opposite: that Daniel is warm and kind while Morpheus is cold and nasty. It's another claim which, IMHO, also lacks nuance and denies Morpheus' post-fishbowl growth. Indeed, Daniel is warmer and kinder than Morpheus ever was, but he's this way because Morpheus himself was warmer and nicer at the end. Daniel is the result of a natural evolution, not a negative of Morpheus.

And in regards to Calliope, we don't know what kind of person she was before being captured and abused for decades, but she likely came out of it changed as well. They're obviously not the same people they were when they broke up, and if they wanted they would have much to learn from this experience and each other... I repeat: the potential is huge for anyone who wants to think about it. It's cool to not be interested, it's just as cool to prefer shipping another pair, but saying that there's no potential for shipping is just, sorry, wrong lol And I often even ponder if Morpheus had let Calliope visit and allowed himself to bond with her again, maybe the outcome would have been different for him. He wouldn't have been alone to face all... this.

Tagging @writing-for-life for... reasons ;)

[lady-harrowhark]

Would you mind. Explaining what the heck the locked tomb (is this the name?) is about. You post a lot of it and I know ✨ nothing ✨ but it sounds kinda interesting??? Into dumping is ok if you feel like lol

I would LOVE to explain what The Locked Tomb is and you DID get the name right and it IS interesting!

So, it's a book series written by Tamsyn Muir and three of the anticipated four books have been released so far. I say "anticipated four books" because it was originally a trilogy but then the last book was split up. I don't think any of us would mind if that happened again and it turned into a five book series. But I digress.

These books are notoriously hard to describe because they sort of encompass or transcend genres. It's a sci-fi fantasty horror murder mystery romcom situation. Plus, there's a LOT going on - I've often described them as an "intellectual escape room." There's so much happening that you don't realize is happening until it all comes together. Going back to the beginning after you've finished them is an entirely different experience than your first read because you can see how it was all laid out from the start - sometimes even in plain sight - and things take on completely different meanings. Also, each book is very different from the others. I adore all of these qualities.

So here's the gist of the premise for the first book:

Gideon Nav, orphan of mysterious origins, has been raised on the Ninth House as an indentured servant and trained as a swordswoman. The Ninth House has become isolated from the rest of the empire and its very existence is threatened by the dwindling population and lack of resources. Gideon is one of only two survivors of her generation, the other children having succumbed to a lethal illness when she was an infant. The other survivor is Harrowhark Nonagesimus, the Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, and the two have been at each other's throats their entire lives. Harrow's parents' deaths have been hidden from the rest of the Ninth (save for Gideon and a few of the Reverend Family's attendants) and Harrow has been secretly ruling in their stead for the past seven years, doing her best to keep the Ninth from falling into ruin. Harrow is a prodigious necromancer, specializing in working with bones. The Ninth receives a message from the Emperor requesting that each House send their heir and cavalier primary (a.k.a swordsman/bodyguard) to his home at the First House, where they are to attempt to piece together the process to becoming a Lyctor, one of his immortal Saints. Unfortunately, Harrow's cavalier has skipped town. Gideon begrudgingly accepts a deal meaning that she will pose as Harrow's cavalier in exchange for freedom from servitude. Upon arriving at the First House, the two meet the other Houses' heirs and their cavaliers and are informed that they will have to figure out the secret to Lyctorhood on their own, and that there will absolutely no communication with the outside empire. It's not long before someone turns up dead... and then another...

What immediately hooked me on the first book was the voice and tone; Gideon is a delightfully snarky narrator. Despite the humor, these books do not pull any punches with regard to emotional depth. Love and grief are at the center of everything these books do, circled by sacrifice and duty and gender and colonialism and religion.

This review is actually one of my favorite things to send to people to pitch them the books. It does a fantastic job of conveying both the premise and the tone of Gideon the Ninth. I also wrote a "pitch your fandom" piece that @wilfriede recorded and recently released. You can find both the audio and the transcript at this link.

I hope that gives you a sense of the series, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble about the series that permanently altered my brain chemistry! If you ever get around to reading them, I would love to hear your thoughts :)

[circuitparanoia]

akechi and manipulation

i'm very close to finishing p5r (my first time playing any persona game) but haven't actually finished it yet so take this post lightly and if i get anything wrong pls don't send me death threats

although i would definitely prefer if akechi were alive, i think death is a very satisfying conclusion to his main arc when 3rd semester is taken into account

from what i've concluded, akechi's main arc is about manipulation. not only the manipulation he faced from shido, but also the god of control and joker, as well as his own manipulation of various events and peoples. now, if we don't acknowledge 3rd semester, then yes i do believe his death was a badly written ending for him narrative wise.

but when joker, his rival, his friend, his foil, is given the chance to manipulate akechi's life, he doesn't. his wish is for akechi to be alive, yet he still respect's Akechi's Wish of gaining autonomy of his life, even if that means letting him go. loki evolves after joker makes this decision, which i think is supposed to show akechi's trust in him, as the first and last person who didn't manipulate his life, especially when it was handed to him on a silver platter

akechi chose the peace of death for himself when he could have very easily given into maruki's distorted reality, which is what solidifies my belief that manipulation is the main theme of akechi's character, in my opinion of course. him breaking free from someone else's manipulation, being able to decide for himself his life for the first and last right before his death is a very beautiful ending for him to me

and of course how could i not acknowledge the fact that he desires to play chess with joker after school. he just wants to be a regular teenager, hanging out with friends after school. but the only way he would be able to have that is if he let himself be a puppet once more, for maruki this time, to willingly let himself be manipulated when the golden opportunity to turn his life's purpose around is right in front of him

i have rambled for far too long i love akechi and his narrative and what he represents and i get so so sad when i think about the possibility of someone refusing to understand the nuances and complexities of him in favor of just blindly hating T_T i have more i brainrot about about akechi like his various masks, his bruised heart, his relation to joker and the PTs in general, but i'll save that thinking for when i actually finish playing the game LOL

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

♡Dear Diary♡

Hey, babessss!!! I have not made a weekly chornicals post in foreverrrr so I decided to bring them back and change the name to “Dear Diary” for more of a girlieeee vibe lol.

♡Education♡

The semester is officially over!!!! Finals almost took me outttt lol I was panicked when it came to my math final but thankfully I got that over with and I’m happy to be free. I did not do as well as I thought I would this semester. I pushed myself super hard and I tried and I know that pushing myself constantly helped me grow. I came out with a lot of knowledge but I’ll try harder in the fall semester. I plan on taking a summer class this summer just to get extra credits to meet my degree requirements<333

♡Mental♡

Now that the semester is over I have to reframe my life and habits to fit the next three months. This week was very hard for me mentally. I plan on pushing myself out of my comfort this summer. I want to cross off everything on my summer bucket list and that will require me to go outside lol. I will be outsideee this summer I have a lot of solo dates and meet-ups with friends planned this summer. I think all of this or the idea of all this made me overwhelmed I had to relax and breathe to get myself to realize this is supposed to be fun, not overwhelming. 

♡Physical♡

I started a weightlifting challenge that one of my favorite YouTubers created but I quickly realized I didn't like it as much and I might not be into weightlifting like I was before. I prefer weighted pilates I love the way it makes me feel. My relationship with exercise has had a major shift I want it to be fun. I want to be excited to work out every day and I realized when I was doing my weighted pilates challenge I was so excited to work out and enjoyed every workout. So I will be paying for my Daily Thrive membership today so I can continue the weight x pilates challenge. I had a binge episode but quickly caught myself because of the emotions I was going through I was using food to cope or to cover those emotions and I hated the way I felt. I got up and fixed the issues and stopped the cycle I'm proud of myself.

♡Hobbies♡

I've written down a list of hobbies I want to get into this summer and I'm so excited. One of those is content creation. I've said this many times on this blog I use to create content and I'm excited to start vlogging and posting content and showing you girliesss my day to day life and glow-up journey but on a deeper personal level. I'm deciding if I want to post all the content to YouTube or just create my vlogs and post them on Tumblr for my babes on here. But when I do get that together I’ll let you girls know<3333

I enjoyed the 30-day glow-up challenge I created so much I wanted to bring back these weekly posts where I update you girlies on my life and the ups and downs I go through as well during my glow up. I love chatting with you girlieeess have an amazing week<3333

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

There was something very poignant about her choosing to put both Marjorie and Invisible String on the original Eras setlist, both of which were deeper cuts on their respective albums and incredibly personal to her, like bringing two of the most important people in her life on tour with her. Just thinking about how touched she was about people celebrating Marjorie with the lights and how often she speaks about how special it is to her to have her grandmother's voice fill sold out stadiums every night -- evidence that she isn't just picking songs based on crowd favourites or radio hits, but songs that are meaningful to her and fill her cup night after night.

And the fact that Invisible String got axed immediately after The Thing happened is just another sign of how deeply difficult it must have been for her to go through that in real time, and not only that but having to process it in real time with thousands of people's eyes on her. 😵‍💫 Don't get me wrong, I know she's said it's comforting to know people out there understand how she feels and I think she absolutely used that. But I think I'm just trying to say that she chose to put Invisible String on the setlist for the same reason she put Marjorie on there -- it was bringing part of her family along for the ride -- and what should have been a great comfort when initially designing the show must have been so, so painful when things blew up by the time the tour started.

[lenievi]

this book

“If anything, [Kirk’s] problem finding his balance with you is that you’re too much like him. You don’t give him the counterbalance he’s used to.”

“Maybe [Kirk] just needs to find a new equilibrium. Once he gets used to you being the more regimented, unemotional one, maybe he’ll give himself the freedom to loosen up some. Maybe he’ll finally feel free to embrace the emotional instincts that are such an important part of his success as a commander—even if he doesn’t always realize it.”

(C. L. Bennett - The Captain’s Oath)

why is it that in my Trek fandom experience people always only talk about how Kirk and Spock are opposites??? 🙄 when this book gets it. Good first weeks of their acquaintance~ 

I’m also just gonna copy something I wrote a while ago, but never posted, since it’s related:

Kirk is very serious, no-nonsense, by the book, and in some ways cold, and holds everyone at an arm’s length.

Which is why at the beginning of the series, it’s actually Kirk who McCoy argues with directly. He’s trying to connect him to his humanity and melt some of his cold and logical demeanour. McCoy also approaches him "on the most intimate personal levels” (this is actually a quote from ST Writers’ Guide, not me lol), making sure that Kirk won’t get lost, that he won’t do something he would regret. As a human. As a person.

But obviously, McCoy knows nothing about command and command decisions. Spock does. And Spock’s thoughts and ideas are actually pretty similar to Kirk’s own. That’s why Kirk searches him out, that’s why he asks him for opinions even when he doesn’t have to because it gives him “emotional security” knowing that this logical Vulcan agrees with his chosen course of action. If Spock does, it means it’s right. Spock being his XO allows Kirk to take some things more lightly, to be more reckless, to open himself up more as a captain. (The idea that Spock calms Kirk down is so ??? to me.)

If Kirk goes too far he knows there will be two people who will stop him and catch him and bring him back to the correct path. Not just one. Both of them. That’s why every time he goes too far, it’s both Spock and McCoy who confront him. Not just one of them. (and when he dies neither is there, which is actually very poetic, and I love it worked that way, even though it wasn’t planned)

When McCoy sees that Spock’s logic has the ability to influence Kirk, and even allows him to become more open, he starts to argue with Spock and ceases to challenge Kirk, because next to the Vulcan XO, Kirk can be just a little bit more human (with a different XO, Kirk wouldn’t be able to do that. When Mitchell was still alive, Kirk had to keep his bravado and serious mask up, he wasn’t allowed to truly open up. Only the combination of McCoy and Spock at his side allowed him to do it, because McCoy, in contrast to Mitchell, also knows when to not rely on emotions because he is a surgeon and he needs to be able to turn them off in order to do his job well. And when he sees that Kirk gets too emotional, McCoy is able to bring him back. Mitchell would only encourage it.)

And today’s addition:

maybe this “I can be more human because of Spock” is also why Kirk focuses so much on “you seem quite human, we’ll make a human out of you yet, his soul was the most human” because he wants him to free himself, because he knows personally how hard it is to kill a part of himself... 

[franeridart]

Omg though have you posted your writing at all??? Would it be too embarrassing to ask for your ao3 👉👈🥺 what fandoms have you written for? Or do you do original work too?

Oh god I'd really prefer not to link my ao3 with this account 😂 but it's been eight years since I last posted anything over there so you're really not missing much 😂😂

[amugoffandoms]

DAY FIVE OF MILGRAMTOBER EVERYONE!!

really tried to get something out of this, really wasn't sure what to do today!

Devil's Advocate - idiom, a person who expresses an opinion that disagrees with others so that there will be an interesting discussion about some issue. Historical Context: The Devil's advocate opposed 'God's advocate' (advocatus Dei; also known as the 'Promoter of the Cause'), whose task was to make the argument in favor of canonization. During the investigation of a cause, this task is now performed by the 'Promoter of Justice' (promotor iustitiae), who is in charge of examining the accuracy of the inquiry on the saintliness of the candidate.

Fuuta exhales as he impatiently taps his foot against the floor while staring at the wall across from him.

It's funny. A couple days of days ago, he didn't expect to be in fucking prison. He didn't even... commit murder. But, anyways, what does that matter? There are innocent people here!

"What kind of human rights violation..." Fuuta huffs.

MILGRAM is confining and imprisoning innocent people here! What the fuck kind of… That's wrong! On multiple levels! And, they didn't even them smartphones or computers! What the hell?? They're practically sick in the head for depriving people from the internet.

Everyone's acting like this is a good thing, either to just hang out or be properly judged. How in the slightest is this a good thing???

He's brought this up multiple times just for someone to agree with him and say that this is wrong, but they all seem to just ignore what he says.

It doesn't even matter. He'll fucking scream at the Warden about how wrong this is. He'll be the representative that brings up everything wrong if no one else will. He'll be the one to bring up better treatment.

He needs to make sure everyone knows that they're a prisoner and they need to find a way out because everything here is wrong. He'll shout as loud as he can so everyone can understand that they need to get out of this violation of everyone's rights.

He rubs his eyes as he throws himself onto his bed and stares at the roof instead.

This is wrong! So, why is everyone denying it? Why would you deny the very truth staring in your eyes??

He may be aggressive, but he's at least bringing up good points.

Why would someone kidnap ten different people just to "judge" them?? How fucking stupid--

Fuuta wants to throw a pillow across the room, pissed off at this entire situation.

He'll fucking destroy this place. Show them true justice.

Exhaling, he shuts his eyes. He wants to just forget this place for a little while when he sleeps.

Eventually, he drifts off.

Fuuta stares at his phone, posts he apparently posted but doesn't remember posting on his timeline. He must have posted this in a fit of justice. He saw how wrong this was and knew that there was an injustice being occurred, so he called them out!

He was probably trying to prove her injustice, showing that she's wrong. She needs to understand that! She's in the wrong, so she shouldn't make excuses, right?

He was promoting justice by vanquishing evil and proving how people are in the wrong. When they find out they're wrong, they can hopefully change.

Even if she's young, she... she needs to understand what she's done. She's just another offender, right...?

Shaking his head, he continues to scroll on his phone, lying on his back. He keeps seeing random posts and they're all uninteresting, so he swipes to see any other posts until-

High school student found dead after backlash online

"What?" Fuuta whispers to no one and quickly sits upright. He wraps his blanket around him, just... to feel safe, or something stupid...

He clicks the article and starts reading.

...Girl was found... dead... earlier this morning...

Parents... mentioned backlash online for something... unsure what really happened... stated she was... paranoid days before she died

Police are still... figuring out if... this was a suicide.

"No-- No way... She didn't--" Fuuta mutters.

She wasn't supposed to die.

Fuuta jolts awake with a scream stuck in his lungs. He's fine. He's fine. He's fine.

And... for a moment, he almost thinks he hears someone call him a demon for attacking people and letting the girl die.

He shakes his head. He's just helping justice by vanquishing evil doers, right?

Right?

[collegeoflore]

7 snippets, 7 mutuals

tagged by the wonderful @rosieofcorona!!! thank you!!

i am. an awful and inattentive mutual and i don’t actually know who has any writing projects on the go right now who would want to share, but i know some of y’all do sooooooo consider yourself tagged :3c

i also have the memory of a goldfish so if you’ve already seen any of these snippets in my wip tag just pretend you haven’t

1. “rare and sweet” (subject to change lol) xarrai/astarion

This was supposed to be easy. He’s done this for two hundred years, lured lamb after lamb to the slaughter to save his own hide. It should be easy, natural, instinctive. But Astarion looks at Xarrai and he can feel the gravel under his knees, the resistance of their muscles under his fingers, their nails on his scalp.

The disgust is one thing – he knows that, knows how to work around it. The disgust has been his to have and to hold for centuries. The desire makes things complicated.

He wants them. He does not want to. Their wrist is still held inches from his face.

Astarion bites.

2. untitled xarrai/astarion piece

From anyone else, it would sound candid. But Xarrai, Shadowheart has noticed, seems far too guarded for candor. What may be candid from someone else’s lips is just as likely to be deceit from theirs; a layer peeled back only shows yet another layer beneath, opaque and inscrutable even as their lilting voice rings clear and true.

Then again, it might not be. That’s the trouble with liars – how does one know when they’ve stopped lying?

3. yet another untitled xarrai/astarion piece. i swear i write other things too sometimes

The problem, of course, is that he wasn't the only charlatan on that Mindflayer ship.

And so, Xarrai sees his deception plain. Why shouldn't they? It mirrors their own; careful misdirection and flippancy wielded like a knife up a sleeve. A liar sees a liar sees a lie. They are both wolves in patriars’ clothes, spiders spinning webs of cheerful deceit. And even if they hadn’t caught his lie when they first met, they watched him dip his fingers into a tiefling’s pocket on their way out of the grove not an hour prior. There are few magistrates with the balls to try that.

4. ALSO untitled xarrai/gale piece

Xarrai’s thumb is on his cheek, now. He can feel the callous where it brushes his stubble. Their voice almost shakes, but not quite. “Can I kiss you?”

Gale has scarcely dreamt of anything except hearing those words again since the last time they asked it. He breathes deep and closes his eyes. There it is, that hint of bergamot and rosemary and brandy. The smell of graveyard dirt and blood. They aren’t his. Anger and grief and love like a house fire tear through his chest. “You know the answer to that,” he says, softly. None of the anger, all of the grief. He won’t think about the love.

“I do,” they say. They linger, one last moment. “I’m sorry.”

5. untitled gale/ieriyn piece. as u can tell titles are like the last thing i do lol

“You must know,” says Gale, eyes half lidded, “that there is only one star in the sky brighter than Mystra’s.”

“Of course,” Ieriyn murmurs. Gale’s hand is in his hair, twining the strands between his fingers like silken flame. Ieriyn melts into it, into him; he presses his hand to Gale’s chest and feels the steady beat of his heart.

“Ieriyn. The Sailor’s Star.” It’s breathtaking, the way most anything can sound like a prayer on Gale’s tongue.

6. i bet u can guess what this one is. (xarrai/astarion. no title. lol)

For once, Xarrai doesn’t know what their face looks like. Their ears are ringing, their lungs filled with rage, their heart pounding in their chest. Astarion looks at them with that same fire in his gemstone eyes, wild and panting. Cornered. The Weave is alive on their tongue, a mouthful of electricity. They could show him exactly what they know of fucking tyranny. They could make him feel the pain he seems so certain meant nothing. They could peel apart the folds of his mind with a flick of their tongue. They could grab the knife in his ribs and twist, twist, twist. They want to. Their whole body screams at them to do it, to use the truth he’s given them like a weapon until he weeps before them like the frightened child they used to be.

7. i'm predictable. i'm sorry. LOL. this one is Very nsfw though be warned

Astarion doesn’t hesitate before he nods. “Of course I can.” He leans into their touch. “Honestly, dear, you’re more trouble than you’re—“

Lips on his and a sharp nail dragged lightly across the head of his cock and Astarion forgets entirely what he was trying to say. He shudders, nails finding purchase on the ridges in Xarrai’s back. He whines into their mouth and feels them laugh against his lips as their hand finally closes around him, the fingers of their other hand still pressing relentlessly into his prostate. He breaks the kiss to press his face into the crook of their neck again instead, breathing in the smell of the oiled leather of their collar where it mixes with the salt of their sweat and the warm musk of their cologne. His gasps and whines are muffled by the leather, and he digs his nails into their skin, fucking himself on their fingers and rutting desperately into their hand. “You are—“ he gasps softly, lips nearly brushing Xarrai’s ear, “fucking incredible.”

“Oh? And here I thought I was more trouble than I was worth.”

[theminecraftbee]

i am so excited for y’all to see my big bang fic i have done what is probably my meanest cliffhanger ever in it and it like, works, i didn’t do it JUST to be mean, but like, that’s a thing i definitely did,

[coquelicoq]

I don't know if it's rude to ask, so apologies in advance if I sound mean, but… how come you repeatedly bring up old posts of yours from three or more years ago? Do you remember each original post you make and intentionally bring them back? Like, I don't think there's anything wrong, your blog can be whatever you want, obviously, and your stuff is always funny or curious in some way, just… I'm kind of lost as of how it came to be, I guess? I don't think I remember my own posts after 6 months, much least if I have to go back to 2020!

ahaha no it's usually just because i'm going back through a tag looking for something else! i recently went back through my entire "my posts" tag (which contains...1468 posts, dear lord) and while i was doing that saw several posts that i felt like reblogging for whatever reason. so it's usually not that i remember them and go looking for them on purpose, it's that i come across them incidentally in the course of doing something else.

if you want to know why i reblog them after coming across them, 1) usually i don't! you are seeing the tip of the iceberg lol, and 2) it's mostly because it's hard to resist the "sooo true, bestie" urge, even when the bestie is just...yourself.

[sysig]

Special Counseling (Patreon)

[pa-pa-plasma]

I think I asked before, but I know fotpod is your crow/corvid Danny fic, but what’s the full name? Thanks. ❤️

honestly I'm so used to calling it FOtPoD I sometimes forget that's not an actual word & that. a lot of people probably have no idea what I'm talking about xD

it stands for Flying Over the Pit of Death & Danny's actually a black-billed magpie in it, though he does have crow friends (pics for birb reference)

one sec I wrote a whole thing on my DP side blog, daddyplasmius. okay it's here> [LINK] if you wanted to read my rambling about this project (& my FOtPoD memes)

[anthonyjlockwood]

"You shouldn't be here" "I had to make use you were ok" and tending wounds for juke 🥰

Kira my beloved 💕 Thank you for the prompt!!

here it is on ao3!

~

There’s broken glass on the floor. 

It crunches underneath Luke’s feet like the gravel that covered the alley he died in as he stands there, restlessly fidgeting, wondering stupidly if he’ll be able to sneak into the kitchen and get a broom without Ray seeing him.

Of course Ray won’t see him. He’s a ghost. He’s dead. 

The mirror he just shattered didn’t seem to get the memo on that, though. Luke remembers the day Willie sat with them, right here in this very garage, eyes shining with life that he no longer had, as he explained to them how to use intention to make themselves solid. To be able to interact with things from the living world that they’d otherwise phase through. 

And the clear shining glass fractured at his feet is proof that it worked. Because Luke’s intention, right from the moment his feet made contact with solid ground, was to break something. Anything. 

And that’s not usually how he reacts to anger – it would be strange, even concerning, if he could see around the thick red fog that’s swirling around in his head. It’s blinding him. Paralyzing him. It’s suffocating. Keeping his feet rooted to the ground while his mind is flying a thousand miles a minute, thinking of some way, any way, to undo what’s just happened. 

Except there is no way to undo it. There’s no glue that could put the pieces of his heart back together. No magical ghost song that could retrieve what’s been lost. No love powerful enough to summon what Luke needs most – because twenty-five years prior, he already carelessly threw it away. 

His parents are dead. 

Mitch and Emily Patterson, who once had to live day after day without their only son, have now swapped places with him. They’re somewhere Luke can’t follow. And Luke wants to believe that the bolt of lightning that struck through his chest all those hours ago, the one that sent him an urgent message in his head – go check on them, go poof to the house, there’s something wrong, you need to go now, for once, just be there when they need you, please – was a sign that his parents still loved him. That he would have had a place in their lives if he hadn’t lost his.  A sign that they could have moved past all their issues.  

They can’t move anywhere now. Luke can’t move – at least, that’s what it feels like; like his feet are slowly molding to the floor. The tingling sensation that says he’s been standing in one place for too long is his metamorphosis. He’ll turn to stone or dust or collapse into a puddle, and he won’t care at all. He’ll deserve it. 

Why should he have an afterlife if his parents can’t? His circumstances are rooted in unfinished business (and he almost wants to laugh, because what could his unfinished business really have been if it didn’t have to do with the biggest regret of his life? A regret that will now go unsolved?) 

Dying in a car accident, completely suddenly and unexpectedly, is a perfect example of a life cut too short – left unfinished. So, by all accounts, his parents should be ghosts now – it would only be fair. But they’re not in the garage with him, and his chest feels like an empty crater where his heart used to be, because his heart was still tied to earth by someone up until now. His parents still loved him and remembered him and missed him. But he can tell they aren’t here – they aren’t anywhere. It feels like he’s eaten a full meal but his stomach is hollow. He can tell there’s something missing from him; he feels empty, but the space can’t be filled.  

And things don’t feel solid. Real. Memorable. The haze is strange; it’s like he’s lost one of his guitar picks – maybe he left it on the couch, in the studio, maybe it fell to the floor… and the more time that passes by as he looks for it, the more he starts to doubt he ever even had it at all. The memories all morph inside his head, twist his reality into something that could be, might have been, but probably was… but they’re not certain. And the more Luke sits with that feeling the more he second guesses everything. 

Are they really dead? Are they ghosts now, but he just can’t find them? Do they not want to be found? Maybe they’re still alive, still in the hospital. Maybe the feeling he had was just wrong. 

Maybe they’re running away from him now, as some sort of sick revenge. Luke can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. 

No matter how it happened, his parents are gone. Before, when Luke was the one who was dead, and his parents dragged themselves through their lives while he watched undetected from the sidelines, Luke always carried the weight of them with him. He isn’t really great at the whole empathy thing, but he always figured it was kind of the same thing on their end. Going through life wearing the loss of their only son as an invisible hundred-pound backpack, constantly feeling that something was missing and wrong but being unable to get it back. 

And he always thought that it was kind of worse for him – because at least his mom and dad didn’t know he was there. They didn’t have to be so close yet so far from what they wanted most. He saw how the pain from his loss etched wrinkles into their still middle-aged faces, how it formed shadows under their eyes. 

But they didn’t see him. They never did – and having to watch his parents age with time and grief was Luke’s punishment, he understands that. It’s what he gets, what he deserves after how he ended their relationship. 

He wouldn’t blame them for becoming ghosts and still not wanting to see him.

But none of it matters. 

Because Luke died first. 

All he has left is his ghost band and the music his parents always hated. A girl, who’s way too good for him, but by some miracle loves him the way he loves her – until he goes and ruins it, at least. He has more than he deserves, and he’s almost glad that he was able to punch through the mirror – the one Julie just bought for the garage, to fill some empty wall space. (He supposes it will just have to remain empty. It won’t be the only one.)  

Now, it’s broken at his feet, and he’s staring down at it numbly. The shards of glass are glistening against the sunset, and Luke slowly bends down and picks one up. 

It’s about intention. And he doesn’t intend to slice a thin line into his palm, but that’s what happens. 

Huh, he thinks numbly. I guess ghosts can still bleed after all. 

It doesn’t make sense, really, but nothing about today has made sense. So he watches the droplets of blood pool at the edges of the cut and solidify, cooling as they make contact with the air. Eventually it starts trickling down his palm. He watches it for a moment, and just as it’s about to reach his wrist he hears a voice behind him. 

“Luke?”  

It’s Julie, of course. Alex and Reggie probably went and found her; they were with him during the lightning strike and in the right place at the right time to receive a terse, vague explanation afterwards. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“The guys told me what happened,” she says softly. “I had to make sure you were okay.” 

She takes a moment, eyes trailing around the room, stopping and widening at the mess on the floor. Luke sees her shoulders rise and fall as a sigh whistles through her lips. But her disappointment – with him, with the situation, Luke isn’t sure – doesn’t last long, because then she pulls something from behind her back with a tight smile. “Alex told me to maybe have these ready. Said you haven’t lost your temper like that since the cafeteria incident of 1993, but…” 

She trails off, holding out the first aid kit in front of her like a peace offering. Luke isn’t sure it’s  necessary – yeah, he’s a ghost and apparently he can get injured, but it’s not like he could die again from an infection – but, as usual, he gravitates towards Julie anyway, feet carrying him into her space where he stops mere inches from her, close enough to smell her perfume. Once he’s within her reach, she sets the first aid kit down on the table and pulls him into her arms. He lets his head fall into the warm, comforting space between her head and shoulder. Her hug envelopes him, and if it weren’t for the stinging in his hand and the stabbing pain in his heart, Luke would want to stay like this forever. 

But Julie’s all business; she pulls away from the hug after a few moments and sets her sights on his hand, pulling him over to sit on the couch and cracking open the first aid kit. Something cold sends a tingling jolt through his palm, which is then covered with some cool cream and a warm bandage. The time ticks by around him uncertainly as he watches Julie with a laser focus.

When she’s done, she takes both of his hands and squeezes them. His eyes dart up to hers at the sudden pressure, and he sees that she’s looking back at him sadly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks. 

“Not really.” “Well… is there a particular reason you took it out on the mirror?” She looks around the garage again, readjusting her position on the squeaky leather couch. “So much for filling the wall space, I guess.” 

“I’ll fingerpaint a picture for you,” he suggests. “We can have arts and crafts night, or something.” “That would be fun,” Julie agrees lightly. “I’m sure the guys would love that, too. But… it doesn’t really explain what happened here. With the mirror.” 

“I got mad.” He can feel his face fall in shame; the heat of it tingles behind his cheekbones and down his chin, but suddenly there’s a cool hand propping him back up. 

“One time, probably a month or so after my mom died, I got mad, too,” Julie says. “Trashed my room and everything. Dad had to hire an actual cleaning service to stumble through the wreckage once I was done with it.” “You did?” Luke never would’ve expected Julie, of all people, to go full-on hurricane on her bedroom – but, then again, he didn’t know her during those first few months. And loss does things to people that they never would’ve expected. 

“I just felt so… angry,” she explains. “Looking back now, it makes no sense – it almost feels like it happened to someone else. It doesn’t feel…” “Real.” “Yeah.” 

They fall into a still silence; it’s not awkward, or uncomfortable, but it’s heavy with the weight of expectation – it’s a glass vase on the edge of a table, and Luke has a feeling that it won’t be long before it breaks. Of course, he turns out to be right.

“I just felt so alone,” Julie explains. “Like – I was just thrown into the middle of the ocean and expected to swim back to shore. Not sure how I got there, not sure if it was real… but totally sure that no one else was drowning. That I had to just… move.” 

“You weren’t alone, though,” Luke says, shaking his head. “You had tons of people back then – even if I wasn’t around yet, Jules, you were never alone.” “But that’s what it felt like. Like I… had people, but I didn’t have the person who mattered most. Like I knew I was missing something permanent, a part of myself. And I felt so alone without it. Without her. Because I knew I was never getting it back.” “It’s weird,” Luke realizes. “Because you don’t – you don’t realize how alone you really are until you have no shot of getting the thing back again.” 

“Exactly.” 

The silence this time is more comfortable, more… fitting, but still incomplete. Luke still has the sense that Julie has something more to say. But he knows that he might not like her words. 

“Hey, Julie?” “Hmm?” “I, uh–” He cuts off with a nervous laugh; suddenly, the bandage on his hand feels much too tight and too itchy. He starts pulling off the loose strands and dropping them into a pile on the couch. 

“Hey.” He doesn’t know how long it’s been before Julie’s voice breaks his trance – the bandage is mostly intact, except for a half-inch or so on the very edge of his palm, the part that would’ve been first to peel off anyway with time and overexertion. He releases it with a sigh, looking back up at her once more. 

“You still have us, Luke,” her tone softens as she takes the hand she’s just bandaged – the very bandage that Luke is steadily demolishing – and runs her fingers over the sticky white tape. Then she flips it over and brings the back of his hand to her lips. Luke shivers as they make contact with his dry, callused skin. “You still have me.” 

But still, even though Julie is here now, and her presence is everything he wants, it’s also way more than he deserves. He tugs his hand out of hers and inches away from her, crossing his arms over his chest. “I shouldn’t, though. I should probably just be alone right now.” 

“To sit there and brood?” she asks. “To think about things you can’t change?”  She scoots towards him again, and her face falls as he jerks away from her again.  “You don’t deserve that.” 

“I do.” “I get that you don’t believe it right now,” she says. “But… it’s okay. I had really great friends to help me get through my grief – that still help me. And I know that no matter how much I think I want to be alone sometimes, it’s much less lonely to be sad with the people you love. You guys and Flynn have always given me that. And… I know that sometimes, when I’m missing Mom the most, all I want is to curl up in bed with you. And you’ve always done that for me. So now we’re just going to… take it one day at a time. And for today – tonight – that means laying on this couch with me, okay?”

Luke isn’t going to argue. He loves Julie with everything he still has – every part of his heart still intact, after twenty-five years of death and loss and who knows how many attempts at reconstruction. Redemption. 

He loves her, and he still has her. Hopefully, he always will.  

So for once, he’s content to sit on the edge of the table, like the vase, and hope that no sudden gust of wind comes to knock it over. And Julie must feel that, too, because she stays quiet at his side. They have all the time in the world to say whatever they need, anyway. 

Luke isn’t going anywhere.

[non-un-topo]

At the crossroads between wondering if it's worth it to basically completely rewrite all my WIPs or just take a break from writing for the rest of the summer

[liltaz-asatreat]

Welp, I didn’t finish that one scene I wanted to write for both Julia Burnsides vs Canon Lore and the taz November celebration thing last night

But I did finally finish chapter 2 alskghdslgkhdglkhg

Next up, either that scene or chapter 3 lol