#i'm too tired to articulate it better

[carveredlunds]

something about the way, in the first 5 seasons of “supernatural”, while chuck is in the picture as merely a prophet, “supernatural” is just an in-universe book series. sure, there are nods to real world fandom things, like sam girls and dean girls, notorious episodes like “bugs” (though they’re referenced as books, not episodes), etc.

but suddenly, from season 6 onwards (bless the spn wiki for this list), there are references to “supernatural” as a tv show. we have “the french mistake”. we have crowley saying things like ‘castiel, haven’t seen you all season’ (“caged heat”) and ‘exit stage crowley’ (“the man who knew too much”). we have castiel looking directly at the camera and addressing the audience when he says ‘let me tell you everything’ (“the man who would be king”). we have the alpha vampire saying to dean ‘see you next season’ and dean saying ‘look forward to it’ (“there will be blood”). we have dean asking castiel ‘what show you been watching?’ (“sacrifice”). we have “meta fiction”. we have dean referring to the ‘girl of the week’ (“somewhere between heaven and hell”). we have chuck saying sam and dean are ‘his favourite show’ (“moriah”). we have chuck watching tv screens with scenes we, the audience, have seen in episodes and referring to ‘cancelling shows’ (“galaxy brain”). we have chuck saying he’s ‘cancelling their show’ (“inherit the earth”).

there’s something in the fact that, as soon as chuck revealed himself as god to the audience at the end of “swan song”, while the book series “supernatural” still existed in-universe, it also became a self-aware tv show, breaking the fourth wall with dialogue, shots, references, and even episode titles. there’s something about the fact that, as soon as god went from being an invisible and incorporeal force to a physical character, “supernatural” went from making a few ‘wink wink nudge nudge’ references to its audience via the in-universe book series to a fourth-wall-breaking self-aware show. 

before the end of season 5, when chuck was still acting out the part of a prophet, there were meta episodes and references, but once chuck went from a prophet to god, the characters either showed moments of awareness that they were, in fact, fictional tv show characters, or there were whole episodes dedicated to the nature of the show itself. there’s just something in that.

[mamawasatesttube]

i like the name "supernova" for adult kon for a lot of reasons (stellar metaphors and imagery are just so good) but one of the chief ones is... something something the violently bright, explosive death of a star. the intent to die brilliantly. to go out with a bang. to never go gentle into that good night. ough kon you have issues <3

[ttaibhse]

it is sad that women who enjoy food are portrayed varying degrees of negatively just about everywhere and actually even men who enjoy food don't exactly enjoy a fantastic rep... why is it such a common idea that enjoying food too much is a moral failing

[anaalnathrakhs]

me taking radiation damage near my family, fully aware that they're despicable to be around because of traits and behaviors we share,

[toastsnaffler]

walking the tightrope of being honest abt smth that bothers me without making the other person feel too bad abt it and also without starting crying should be an olympic sport

[lavenderlyncis]

Join me in reviewing Olivia Rodrigo's album GUTS. I've waited years for this!!

all-american bitch - 9/10, big fan. I love it when she screams because the world is unfair. same girl, same

bad idea right? - 10/10. I know this one is controversial but I LOVE her more punky songs, I think that's when she's best

vampire - 10/10. I'm not always a fan of piano ballads, but the bridge and outro really make it for me. The hurt turning into anger and despair is just so cathartic. And the video is one of my faves of all time

lacy - 1000/10. What the hell. Did not expect to feel this much emotion from that title. Uhhh... yeah, same. I super relate to that. Whether or not lacy is supposed to be a real person or a manifestation of the beauty standard, this hits. Also, idk if I'm making this up but I dig the romantic undertones, they sell it

ballad of a homeschooled girl - "I made it weird, I made it worse"/10. OLIVIA HOW DID YOU KNOW that I lie awake thinking about all the weird things I did and said, Olivia, did you write this for me specifically??? Every day I am alive IS social suicide. I'm sorry, this is my song, actually. "Can't think of a third line", she's so real

making the bed - "I'm playing the victim so well in my head"/10. How. Does. She. Do. It? I could write an entire essay about this song. Maybe THIS is my song?? She's so good at saying exactly how I feel. I already know that this song will play a million times on my phone. Also I love the drivers license references. Big fan of the making the bed metaphor

logical - 9/10. favourite crime vibes. She's good with these songs about bad relationships. Used to be my favourite thing she did, but now I'm more invested in the songs that are about her/other experiences. That being said this song is really fucking good. This is the Olivia I fell in love with and she's still amazing at doing piano ballads

get him back! - 9/10. Olivia having ANOTHER song with speak-singing where she wants to get back with her ex?? Yes, PLEASE. Bad idea right 2.0. Fucking obsessed

love is embarrassing - 10/10. I said it before I'll say it again, angry Olivia is the best. And she's right, love IS embarrassing as hell

the grudges - 10/10. She does the paino ballads SO WELL. I think this is my favourite one on here. Because, wow, yeah, that is how it is

pretty isn't pretty - i can't rate this/10. GOD, I love it when she talks about insecurities. And don't think I don't see that skipping lunch line. It's sp hard to articulate how this song makes me feel. Especially since I've been low key comparing myself to her, even though we have entirely different bodies and faces. It's nice to know she also struggles with this. And she's right, you could do literally anything to change your appearance and you'd still be unhappy

teenage dream - 100000/10. "Is it recording? Of course it is.", the way I gasped. Okay, I love the interpretation of it ending with a child to be about growing up and childhood innocence. But the line she says?? Especially combined with the meaning of the song it feels a lot like it's about taking away youth by recording it and putting it out there just like she was supposed to be everyone's teenage dream as a child actor and young musician. This feels so personal to her while also being relatable to others. I'm 19 too, Olivia and I are born in the same year. And this is exactly how I feel about growing up. I hope it gets better, my teenage years were crap, I'm tired of being young, but it's also the only thing I can hold onto. I'm honestly terrified of turning 20. But hey, Olivia did it, so... it'll get better, right?

[murder-cookie-dust393]

Now, I would know better than anyone how a pianist works, so NO ONE can say I'm wrong. If you don't understand the following terms and concepts, that's fine because it's only there for detail and not the main events.

Birthday/Holiday fic of my latest obsession Crème brûlée

Ignored Duet

Synopsis: MC is a pianist on a train with a bunch of musician friends to go have a grand performance the day before the holidays. Yet MC shares a one-sided rivalry with Crème brûlée. But Crème brûlée doesn't like this rivalry, at all.

Words: 2.7K (rounded)

Tw: murder, poisoning, breaking into people's rooms, delusions, non-explicit violence, beheading, blood, Poison Mushroom is a hallucinogen dealer

You sighed and sat down on a chair in your suite. You were tired from settling down in your suite, after having to haul your luggage to the very back of the train. You really did love the interior of the train though, it was luxury. Even better, all your musician friends were on the train too! All of you headed towards the same destination for a big performance.

As a skilled pianist yourself, you were excited to have a special recital the Eve before the Christmas holiday. People were going to be cheering and complimenting you, it always boosted your mood. It made you feel worthy about yourself.

But of course, there was always someone who ruined everything. Someone who always stole the spotlight; someone who ruined your mood and self-esteem more than anyone else. That someone being none other than Crème brûlée cookie.

He was always the star of the show whenever he arrived. With his blank demeanour and introverted personality, he somehow, somehow got the admiring of others. What irked you the most was you yourself knew how perfect he got his technique to be. Every single articulation and note. You hated how he held the rigid, textbook-like principles to heart rather than the emotion itself.

You've eyed his sheet music before, dotted with neat handwriting and circles to perfection. It was as if his entire being was laughing at you for how perfect he could become at playing an instrument of keys.

Ever since you were young, you were praised for how emotional and artistic you could play. How dramatic the motions of your hands and tone were. How you could make people cry from the pure essence you carried.

But ever since you debuted, those compliments have grown fewer in numbers. Precisely because those praises were directed towards Crème brûlée. You knew the importance of technique and the technical parts of playing, but he was completely expressionless during his performances. He didn't shift himself to the sound of the melodies and harmonies, no, he didn't even move his hand like a feather to express lightheartedness. He was utterly rocky with his playing. Hardly any room for beauty.

And yet the people and the judges loved him for it. You hated him.

You sighed as you grabbed the blanket you brought along for the trip, snuggling underneath it. Your body absorbs all the warmth produced by the blanket.

For now, you aren't going to give a single fuck about this bastard.

——————————————————

Crème brûlée silently entered your suite, his eyes holding a look of swirling obsession. He approached the place where you lay, sleeping. He smiles and watches you, occasionally adjusting the blanket seated upon your body. You were more eye-catching to him than the girl with flaxen hair sir Claude composed dearly for.

But there was one thing he hated undeniably about you. It was the fact you mistook his obvious efforts. He wasn't trying to one-up you, no, he was trying to get close to you as much as possible. He didn't want to be enemies, he wanted to be the one glued to your side forever and ever. He craved the life his colleague Mint Choco had. A comfortable life with his other piece. Yet that damned one-sided rivalry you had for him divided him away from you.

He's tired of it. He's sick of it. He wants to yell at you, scream at you, rage at you that he's so sick of being seen as a villain. He knows better than to do that, of course. He simply needs to be more direct with his love it seems.

He leans in and pecks your cheek with the lightest of touches, his arms loosely resting on top of your body. His eyes lock onto your face for a solid moment before he stands up, taking out the note he had written for you. It was dotted with hearts and bunny stickers. Perhaps a bit childish for someone as sophisticated as he was, but he still thought it was cute.

He then left the suite with a little smile on his face, silently walking down the train hall with excitement bouncing within his mind. Fortunately, no one saw him, and no one noticed a single thing out of place.

——————————————————

You wake up after falling in and out of sleep for the last hour. You don't feel like getting out of bed, it's too comfy. But it's also boring just laying here, as you can't fall asleep anymore. You decide to grab the book you brought along with you. You sit up, reaching for the book titled, "How to Sell Poison Shroomies", until you see a note.

The note is dotted with hearts and bunny stickers, all the cutesy stuff you could imagine. But the contents of the note were odd. It was a treble clef, with some letters below it. In between the letters were a few blank spaces, and above those blank spaces were notes. It was very similar to the note-naming practice sheets you had to do as a kid.

Without decoding it, you tried to see what it said.

_ _ R L I N _ ! I T R _ _ L L Y T I R _ S M _ TO H _ V _ Y O U

I _ N O R _ M _ L I K _ T H I S. I W _ N T T O _ _ Y O U R O N _

_ N _ O N L Y L O V _ R!

You answered each blank, coordinating the note to its letter name. After decoding it, you read the message again.

DARLING! IT REALLY TIRES ME TO HAVE YOU IGNORE ME LIKE THIS. I WANT TO BE YOUR ONE AND ONLY LOVER!

You grimace, disgusted. A creep entered your suite and you don't even know who it is. What's worse is: that most of the cookies on this train were musicians of some sort. There was; Parfair, Black Lemonade, Mint Choco, Macaron, Carol, Rockstar, and that disgusting degenerate, Crème brûlée.

You sigh. Your life couldn't have gotten any more annoying.

——————————————————

Crème brûlée was excited as he went to the dining car for food. Even if he didn't change his avid poker face, he was still bouncing around inside. He decided to sit himself at the table next to yours, making sure to look nice and tidy. He can't be ruining himself after all! He needs to be perfect!

When he glanced himself over at you though, he felt a little discouraged. You look annoyed like something went completely wrong. He was a bit worried. Did someone make you feel bad about yourself?

He then spoke with a calm tone, "MC? What's wrong? You look a little out of it." He unmasked the poker face and made a little frown. He was trying his best to express his worry.

"Nothing. I just hit my leg earlier."

Your response was so harsh, so cold. He felt his heart drop and maybe break a little. Did you not see his note? He hoped you would finally change, but it seems you haven't! The horror! He turned back to his food, staring at it.

Was it the cutesy bunny stickers? Was it too much? He thought you wouldn't mind his little effort in trying to make it look nice. Unless...No, you possibly couldn't have, right?

He glanced over at Parfait and noticed the bunny charm in her hair. No, no, no! You must have mistaken his note as Parfait's! The gears in his mind whirl as he tries to think of another plan.

What if he gets rid of the possibility? If he gets rid of Parfait, then naturally you would think the bunny stickers were from him, right? It's just the process of elimination.

He smiles as he cooks up a way to terminate Parfait from your life. Permanently.

——————————————————

In the evening, everybody was having a little card party. A feisty round of Uno, with everybody screaming at each other in rage. A true act of comedy. That was until a blood-curdling scream came from Rockstar, who was on the way to grab something from Parfait.

"P-Parfait's been killed to crumbs!" Rockstar shouted as he pointed to the suite. Which was covered everywhere in blood, and her head rolled off to a corner of the room. A scene one too many levels gory.

Within moments cookies are surrounding Parfait's suite; disgusted, horrified, saddened, and all sorts of negative emotions. Even Crème brûlée looked scared. They all look at each other, trying to suspect a culprit. No one stood too close to each other, not even Carol, who was one of the nicest cookies ever.

Until you notice something odd about the crime scene. You notice the bunny charm that Parfait had worn in her hair earlier that day. It stared back at you, its cute smile plastered on its face. Surrounding the charm was a blood stain shaped into a heart.

Your heart freezes.

That bunny. That fucking bunny sticker on that note this morning.

The killer was awake and was prowling for you.

——————————————————

You couldn't sleep. You didn't know what to do. On one hand, you wanted to tell the others about your discovery, but the killer might come for you faster than before. Your only option was to wait it out until you arrived at your destination, playing a horrid game of survival. The biggest thing is that you need to find out who the killer is.

You take the note off the table, staring at it. You observe every line and curve of the sender's handwriting. It was neat, but messy on a few edges. You started to eliminate cookies in your head that you didn't think matched the handwriting. It couldn't be Carol or Macaron for sure, they had pretty and consistent writing.

Your only suspects remaining were Black Lemonade, Mint Choco, Rockstar, and Crème brûlée. You've seen Rockstar's handwriting before. It was god awful, literally a bunch of scribbles and lightning bolts. So it couldn't be him. Mint Choco wrote in cursive only, so you doubted it was him either.

You were left with two cookies now: Black Lemonade and Crème brûlée. You've seen Crème brûlée's handwriting before, on his sheet music. It was never consistent. Sometimes it was fabulous print and other times looked like a hurried cursive. But he was your enemy, and he would never spend time writing a cutesy love note. Although...you did remember hearing him get accused of murder last year's Christmas.

You don't think it's him. He's too much of a cocky bastard to care about such things. Then it could only mean...Black Lemonade.

It would make sense, considering they were at Summer Soda Fest together. Black Lemonade might of had a bad interaction with Parfait. But you need someone who was there to tell you if they knew anything about the event. Aha! Rockstar. He would know any tension between the two guitarists.

——————————————————

The next day, you discreetly knock on Rockstar's suite door. He opens the sliding door a minute later, managing to smile during these grim times. After seating yourself on a seat, you hold out the note to him, showing the offsetting love note you got.

"So yesterday morning, I got this note from someone. Do you see the bunny stickers? Well, Parfait had a bunny charm in her hair yesterday." You explain, emphasizing the shiny bunny stickers that were dotted all over the paper.

"Yeah, I noticed the bunny charm at the body last night. Do you have a suspect?" He answers, sipping on a can of soda.

"I do. But I don't know for sure yet. Was there any tension between Black Lemonade and Parfait?"

He hums for a moment, thinking. It takes a few seconds before he shakes his head, "Nah, not that I can remember. I don't think interacted a lot in the first place."

You freeze for a second. You stare at him before quiet mumbling, "No? Then that can only mean...No it can't be, I-" You blink, wondering if you should tell him, "Could it be Crème brûlée?"

He glances at the note again before shifting his eyes back to you. "I don't know him that well, but I doubt it. He's kind of...isolated. Plus, he never seemed malicious to Parfait."

"Then who could it be..." You grab onto the door handle, slowly opening it. "Well, thanks for helping. I need to find the killer soon."

As you leave his suite and head back to yours, your own intuition feels like something is off. The suspects and the handwriting weren't adding up right. Could it be someone not even a part of the passengers? That's a whole new gate of hell that you didn't want to enter quite just yet. You open the door and lay down on your makeshift bed. Letting the paper flutter to the ground.

You stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to suck out details from past interactions and your own knowledge. That is until you hear a creak. You look beneath your bed out of curiosity and see nothing. It was probably a squeak from the train.

"Do you like ignoring me?"

The voice made you flinch, you flip your head to see Crème brûlée standing there with a frown. How did he get in here? You had your door locked due to protocols.

"Crème brûlée? How did you get in here?"

"Stop ignoring me. I hate it." His voice is sharp, cutting through your question. He approaches you, picking up the note off the floor. He shoves it in front of your face. "I wrote this. Not Parfait, not Black Lemonade, not Mint Choco, not anyone but me."

Your body feels like it's encased in cement. You couldn't move as you stared at him with widened eyes. "You...killed Parfait?" Terror pounds through your veins. You back away from him, your back hitting against the wall. "Wha- Why would you do such a thing?" This was working out a lot worse than you had thought it would be.

"Because, you mistook my precious, my sweet and thoughtful note as Parfait's!" He suddenly exclaimed, a look of madness bouncing around his expression. "You were supposed to be loving me! I originally planned for us to nerd out on Brahms literature, but instead here you are trying to play detective for a worthless crime case."

For a period you couldn't respond, speechless from his words. What kind of delusional narcissist was he? Did he really believe you'll instantly fall in love with him after you realize the note was from him? Of course the fuck not! In a state of anger, you pounce on him. Hitting his face and shoulders as much as you could. But instead of pain or hurt, his face depicted laughter.

"Darling, darling, your hits won't work on me. My dough is a lot stiffer than you would think." He pushed you off of him, and before you could regain your footing he was hugging you tight, smiling. "No need to care now, they're all going to be dead soon."

In a state of rage and grief, you scream at him, "What do you mean them? Who? You heartless monster!" You struggle in his grasp, trying to wriggle away. He was right, he seemed to be much stronger than he looked.

"Oh, just a few poison shrooms in breakfast. A little kid told me to take some when I was rambling about my jealousy the other day." He caressed the hair on your head. This was the longest you've ever seen him smiling. "Don't worry, I calculated which plate would go to your suite so you aren't poisoned.

You've lost the energy to fight anymore. Your friends were all going to vanish soon. And you had no way to help them. On a train, in the stupid snow of the middle of nowhere. It was as if your own luck was laughing at you. The performance you were so excited about was just a mere side note.

"How could you? How fucking could you?" You mumble, feeling too drained to scream and shout at him. You didn't want to even look at this wretched murderer.

"Shh...I know you were so excited about the performance, I know. We can have our own little recital in the banquet car. Just you and me. I even brought a few duet books for us to sight read too." He giggled, kissing your cheek. "You know, bonding time."

You slumped down onto his shoulder, exhausted. Dead inside. What a merry holiday it was.

——————————————————

We're not gonna talk about the child with the mental capacity of a 9 year old driving the fucking train (Yes it's Poison Mushroom)

Dude writing this was literally digging a plot hole, and filling it. And repeat that 10 times. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

I have to wait 2 more hours before my birthday presents- shit fuck.

- Celina

[skyloftian-nutcase]

"Shouldn't he rest, though?"

"If he stays in bed too long, he'll only grow weaker."

Link turned his face away from the voices, eager to slip back into the peaceful inky black of slumber. His head was hurting too much for this.

"Wake up, little hero."

A hand shook him slightly, pushing his shoulder further into the comfortable mattress. The movement sent a spike of pain up his neck into his skull, further articulating the headache he was desperately trying to ignore. With an angry, sharp inhale, he opened his eyes.

When he turned to view the person in question, he remembered his situation.

Huffing, he rasped, "What do you want?"

"I don't need your attitude, kid," Nabooru quipped lightly. "This is for your own good. You need to get up, and you need to eat and drink."

Link came up with a few snarky responses but found he was too tired to argue the matter. He let her pull him into a seated position, and he shifted his feet to the edge of the bed hesitantly. The last time he'd tried this he'd nearly passed out. He wasn't even sure how long ago that had been at this point - the exhaustion finally seemed to have won out over his will to escape.

Did that make him pathetic or intelligent? Zelda had always pushed herself so hard and never seemed to stop. He should do better.

Gritting his teeth, the captain pushed himself to stand. Nabooru had steadying hands on him, helping him shakily take a few steps towards the door.

Alertness came to him an instant, alongside hope. He was moving! He could survey his situation better if he let her guide him outside, he could find a way to escape the Gerudo stronghold, perhaps even retrieve the Triforce that Ganondorf had stolen!

Air moved on his other side, the only hint he had of someone moving beside him before an unsettling face invaded his personal space.

"Oh, so the wretched Hero is up and about now?" Ghirahim purred, lips curling in an unsettling smile.

"You're in the way," Nabooru said flatly.

The demon lord huffed, straightening and crossing his arms. "Must you ruin the moment, woman? You don't understand how long I've waited for this."

"Your rivalry is with the spirit, not the child," Nabooru said firmly. "Leave him be."

Link blinked, confused. With the spirit?

Oh. The Spirit of the Hero. The same person Cia had fallen into an obsession with. The same person who Zelda looked to with hope and conviction and dedication. The person who was supposed to be him, the person he strove to be every day.

Why... why were they talking about it like it was someone else?

Link scoffed. "I'm not a child. I am the bearer of the Hero's Spirit. If it's a fight you want--"

The rest of the captain's statement was cut off with a yelp as Nabooru swatted at Ghirahim and dragged Link away. "That's enough of this nonsense. I took you out here to get fresh air, not pick a fight with the first idiot you find."

"Idiot?!" Ghirahim repeated, affronted, though he was left behind by the pair as Link was practically carried outside the compound.

It was evening outside, Link realized, making him feel all the more disoriented. How long had it been since his capture? How long had been asleep? It had certainly been brighter when he'd encountered Ganondorf.

As he was guided to sit in a pile of cushions, a waterskin placed into his hands, Link saw a group of Gerudo women dancing and laughing. Others were playing music, and a crowd was clapping along. On a raised platform sat their king, also enjoying the festivities, though much more solemnly than his warriors. Ganondorf's eyes flicked over to the captain a moment, studying him, and Link felt his skin crawl. He glared defiantly in return.

Ganondorf returned his attention elsewhere, and Link's brooding was interrupted when Nabooru snapped her fingers in his face.

"Drink," she ordered.

Reluctantly, Link complied. There was no point in not hydrating; he needed strength to find a way out of this place. After a few sips, his body suddenly registered just how utterly dehydrated he was, and he emptied it in a heartbeat.

Glancing to her left, Nabooru said, "Watch him."

Link looked to his right and saw another Gerudo warrior walk up beside him, sword drawn and held erect against the ground while her hands rested overtop the hilt.

"What do you people want from me?" he asked, his voice gaining some strength now that his throat wasn't quite so parched.

"I wanted to kill you," the woman grumbled, and Link recognized her as the last thing he saw before he was knocked out in battle. "But our king had other plans."

The captain once again glanced at the perpetrator of this entire mess, feeling himself shiver a little. What did such a monster want with him? He already had the Triforce, after all. Was Link needed for some kind of ritual?

Was he going to capture Zelda as well, then?

Wait... was Link bait?

He had to get out of here.

Nabooru returned quickly, a bowl of curry in her hands. She held it out to the captain, who hesitantly took it. The guard walked away silently.

"I don't suppose you can tell me why your king wants me alive," Link muttered, staring at the curry. He didn't really know how to feel about any of this at this point, except that he was most certainly on edge and wanted to get the hell away from here.

Nabooru watched him a moment, seeming to make a decision in her mind, and sat beside him to watch the dancers. The lively music didn't quite reach the cold atmosphere Link's dread generated, but the Gerudo woman at his side was a steady presence, somehow less intimidating than the others.

"You are the Hylian Hero," Nabooru said. "The Spirit of the Hero travels with you."

"I am the Hero," Link emphasized, feeling his ire rise. He had drawn the Master Sword, he had led troops into battle time and again, he bore the Triforce of Courage, and he was the one Zelda had chosen to wear the legendary garb.

"Our king is quite interested in you," Nabooru continued, ignoring his interruption. "I must confess, I didn't expect you to be so... young."

Rolling his eyes, Link looked away. "Many say that. Most don't live to regret it."

Nabooru laughed at that. "Spoken like a warrior filled with spirit and a thirst to prove himself. I admire your ability to fight, child. Don't doubt that. I started fighting around your age too. But don't forget your place. You are still young, and you know very little of the world outside of a battlefield."

"Am I going to learn about wartime strategy and politics here, then?" Link prodded, glancing back at her. "Am I being held hostage as a bartering chip?"

"My understanding of it is that you're being held to keep you safe," Nabooru answered unexpectedly, looking him in the eye with a seriousness he wasn't expecting. "But only the king knows his own plans. I just happen to be the leader of the Gerudo."

"I thought the king was?"

"He wasn't here until a few weeks ago," Nabooru replied, looking away. "Our people were mostly wiped out by Hyrule."

Link felt his throat go dry, and he had no words to say while simultaneously having so many in his mind.

What did she mean that Hyrule had wiped out the Gerudo? Had they attacked Hyrule in the past? A war between the Gerudo and Hyrule could explain why Link barely knew of their existence, and why that other guard wanted him dead. But what about the other statement, about keeping him safe? What kind of nonsense was that?

Ganondorf needed him for something, clearly. He needed him, and he knew Link was too powerful a soldier to keep in play in the war. He was crippling the Hyrulean army and preventing Link from dying so he could utilize him for something.

This had to do with the Triforce, didn't it? Link knew so little of the artifact, except for its origin story.

He wished Lana was here to explain the situation. He'd even take Impa.

Sighing, Link stared at his curry, his stomach growling but his appetite disappearing as his musings clouded his mind.

[cottoncandy-cult]

Babification Diasomnia 1

So because of limits I'm posting Diasomnia in 2 parts and Heartslabyul will probably be in 3. I'm not sure about Pomefiore, depending on how long the individual parts get I might have to give someone their own chapter though I'm not sure who it might be. I might conjoin Rook and Epel's, since after some research Epel doesn't have much experience with people his age or younger. So we'll see when I get there.

Lilia

Lilia hummed softly as he carried the little (Y/n) back to his room, it had been a few days since she had been turned into a child and Lilia was starting to enjoy it. He was gentle as he laid the sleeping baby on his bed and began to shift to his normal form. It made him feel nostalgic, caring for a child in such a form reminded him of when Silver and Malleus were young. Plus, he liked being so much larger than her, he felt like it was easier to handle her and carry her about in his older form as he could more easily balance her in one arm without worrying about dropping her. He sometimes wonders if it was that one time, he dropped Silver that made him so drowsy, if he didn't know any better, he'd believe it was the cost at least. "You know you really scared me baby bat, being so close to that accident. You spooked all your friends too, naughty girl." He spoke softly as he chuckled, moving to lift the little girl once more before he moved to sit in a chair by the window so he could read one of his many books. Once sat down and comfortable he cradled the little girl in one arm across his lap, opening up an old red bound book to read, his hand gently rubbing her back as he waited for her to wake from her nap so he could feed her some dinner and get her bathed before they played and got ready for bed. He was a bit nervous at first, humans were already so fragile compared to fae and his human was magicless on top of it. So, to be made into a baby made her quite fragile, he almost tried to convince Crewel to take her because he feared he may be too reckless with her. Of course, he came to his senses quickly, he was a general and a damn good one at that. He of all people understands restraint, and he's already raised a few babies so he could easily handle this.

"Lilly?" The soft voice called sleepily up at the male, the 2-year-old girl gazing at him groggily from where her cheek rested on his chest. "Hey there baby bat, I didn't wake you, did I?" Lilia set the book aside without hesitation, he had only been reading it to waste time. "No…wanna bubble bath." She would sometimes speak in short sentences; he wondered if maybe she was still in there and just couldn't articulate or act the way she wanted given her child like mind. He made sure to listen to her though, in case she was aware he wanted to keep her situation stress free. He chuckled, moving to stand as he brought his arm under her bum for her to sit on as she leaned against his chest. "Alright cutie, do you want to play in the bubbles tonight or are you to tired? You did have a big day today playing with the boys at lunch." He chuckled as he thought back to how Ace and Deuce played with the little girl; the duo having sought him out to see how things were going. Malleus often liked holding her for Lilia whenever he needed to fly around a bit when he got restless, it was honestly cute how her friends would interact with her in this state. He was starting to enjoy her state of being, of course he wanted her back to normal but having her like this feels almost like a bonding experience. A true show of trust and love as he took care of her while she was in such a helpless state, he'd ensure that she always knew she was safe with him around no matter the situation. "Don't know." She pouted as she tried to stay awake, she liked playing with Lilia after she bathes. "Alright, we'll see how you feel once we're done washing your hair." He smiled as he sat her on the carpet by the tub, setting a small basket of rubber animals in front of her to play with while he ran the water and got her Pjs. He lived for domestic moments like these, he really did. Humming softly as he removed his button up, leaving him in a sleeveless muscle top as he tied his hair back in a bun so it wouldn't get in the way.

Malleus

The dragon male had missed a few days of classes since little (Y/n) came into his care, he had been worried when he heard of the accident but had calmed down some when Lillia brought the girl to him and explained in full. But it didn't take long for his protective side to come out, he's sweet child of man was at her most vulnerable, she couldn't even properly communicate. He rarely left his room and never strayed from the dorm, he refused to bring her around people he didn't trust. So, he treated her like a treasure, having made a nest of silk sheets to keep the little girl tucked away in. He had Lillia pick her up some toys so she wouldn't get bored, much of his day was spent doing classwork at his desk in his room and playing with the sweet little girl. He'd often talk to her even though she couldn't respond, holding her in his lap as he'd read from a picture book about gargoyles. When it was time for bed, he'd remove his top so he could free his wings, preferring to sleep curled around her little nest with one of his wings draped over it. Lilia had taken several pictures that he loved to show off, the male was absolutely delighted to see how Malleus' instincts affected him and how Malleus had absolutely devoted himself to this little girl. Silver was often the one that brought him food for (Y/n), being one of the only ones in the little group that actually can cook. Though sometimes, times like tonight, he would bring the little girl to the kitchen so he could make something for her himself. Of course, he knew her list of solid foods she could handle wasn't very long, mostly fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, chopped veggies, etc.

Tonight, Malleus was making something special for her, a reward for behaving while in Sebek's care as Lilia and Malleus had to attend a meeting for house wardens and their vice wardens earlier in the day that had been considered mandatory. Due to (Y/n)'s accident, the house wardens and their vice wardens would be notified when members of their dorm are caught doing something dangerous in class. Of course, he was grateful for this, especially since he knew just who's dorm those boys belonged to. She had been a little pouty when he got back, clearly not understanding why he had to leave. But when she made grabby hands at him with glossy eyes, the big dragon absolutely melted into a giant golden retriever. He had been quick to scoop her up, rubbing his cheek on hers to soothe the little girl as he thanked the male for watching her and swiftly went back to his room so he could snuggle her. Now he stood near the stove, baby (Y/n) sat in her highchair and nibbling on some blueberries to keep her distracted while he put to use his cooking classes. He was making her some mashed potatoes and sauteed veggies, he knew she may not really understand the difference, but he wanted to make her something new as a reward for not being fussy while he was gone. He couldn't fight the smile that formed on his face when he turned to her with a small plate of food and her face lit up, his child of man loved to eat, and he loved when she enjoyed something he made her even more. "Let's get you fed, shall we?" He chuckled as he sat the plate on the kitchen island and tied his hair back into a ponytail before grabbing a spoon. He had done some reading when she slept so he understood he had to be careful when feeding her, not wanting to burn or choke her. So, each small spoonful he'd blow on for a moment, making sure it wasn't too hot before feeding it to the little girl. Each bite she gave a little clap, a cute little habit she had when she was enjoying her food. He had been so focused on feeding her that Malleus had completely missed the 3 pairs of eyes watching him from the doorway, the small group of his friends and protectors whispering amongst themselves about the sight of Malleus being so gentle and about how happy he seemed to be. Of course, Lilia was recording, he'd need something to show at the wedding when he was giving his speech about how he knew from this moment they would be together for eternity.

Silver Lillia would be lying if he said he wasn't a little worried about letting Silver take care of baby (Y/n) on his own, babies were a lot of work and Silver was pretty low energy. Though to his relief the young man was doing just fine, despite still dozing off at seemingly random he's never once done so without the little girl being somewhere safe. There have been times he falls asleep while holding her when in the Diasomnia common room, usually laid back on one of the couches, but whenever Lillia or one of the others try to go pick her up they don't get within a 6-foot radius before he is waking up and staring them down. He would let Lillia or the others in his close group interact with her, but he never liked leaving her alone with anyone. He trusts them for sure, but he felt guilty whenever he'd try to walk away and hear just the softest whimper from her as she reached for him. He gave in every time, which was why she went with him to all his classes, he had the ability to leave her with someone at the dorm but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. That was what lead him to this, Silver sat at the table in the lunchroom with his family from Diasomnia. Malleus had even joined them that day, the group in general just seemed interested whenever the baby human was involved. He found her interesting as well of course, but at this point Silver was starting to think Lillia might make a baby book for (Y/n) with the number of pictures his father takes. "You're doing well despite her being the first baby you've taken care of, much better than when I first found you in the woods."

Silver smiled some at his father's praise, wiping a bit of food from the corner of the little girl's mouth. "I had to do a bit of reading, but it's not as hard as I was expecting. It revolves around remembering she is little, she is fragile, and she doesn't know anything about anything right now. There is no such thing as malice when it comes to babies, so you have to be patient." He nodded his head as he remembered the words that his professor spoke to him that first day he brought her to class, of course Crewel insisted on holding her while he took part in making potions. But that also meant that Crewel would linger around his cauldron, giving him tips and tricks when it came to child rearing. Of course, he knew she'd turn back eventually, but he was still enjoying this virtually uninterrupted time with her. She was a cute and sweet baby, always wanting to interact with him and nap with him. He loved fixing bubble baths for her, he'd sit on the toilet in a tank top and shorts as he'd let her play with some little toy animals Sebek found at Sam's shop before he washed her hair and cleaned her up. He never took his eyes off her, the minimum amount to drown an adult is more than enough to drown an infant so he always made sure she wasn't near the faucet or anything she could hit her head on and would use a cup to pour the warm water over her head when rinsing out the shampoo and conditioner. Silver was patting the girl on the head when his thoughts were interrupted by Malleus's chuckle. "Very right, humans are fragile creatures to begin with. As are babies, I don't think I'd want to set her down either. Especially not in a school of magic, where accidents happen regularly." Lillia nodded his head, hovering his way over to the little girl as he hung upside down and poked at her cheeks. "The prefect is so charming, isn't she? Such a cute baby. Takes me back to when you lot had pudgy cheeks and chubby fingers." He smiled widely as (Y/n) giggled and cooed at him, gently grabbing onto his finger. She didn't know it yet, but she'd never be able to get away from them now. Even once she was back to normal, she'd be the center of their little world.

Sebek It had been a surprisingly normal day, exactly 48 hours after little (Y/n) was brought to them. Lillia and Silver had been somewhat worried about how the girl would do in the care of their loudest member, and though Sebek did his best he still had a few loud moments. But to their surprise the loud sounds never seemed to bother to little girl, only making her giggle and tug on his shirt in an attempt to get his attention. Lillia had kept an eye from afar, he knew Sebek would never neglect her or put her in harm's way but if anything happened and the boy became flustered the older man wanted to be able to step in and lend a hand. So far things went well though, very rarely did the girl become fussy and Sebek manages to be at least somewhat calm when narrowing down what she wants. He still gets a bit antsy when it happens in class, wanting to tend to her but not enjoying the curious looks he gets as he cycles through drinks, snacks and toys. Currently the two were out in the garden, Sebek had the little girl sat in his lap as he read from a children's book that Lillia had brought back from Briar Valley. The half fae male was quite attentive to the little girl, he kept her baby bag close at all times and kept it full of healthy snacks and plenty of water. She was around 3, and though she could talk she didn't do it often. When she did the girl could be quite quiet, often near whispering and leaving Sebek to be her proud translator who is just happy she is saying SOMETHING. "Bek?" The little (H/c) head looked up at the taller male, tilting her head before he started reading once more as if to not interrupt him later midsentence. "Yes? You need something (Y/n)?" The male looked down at the little one, her head was tilted back against his chest as she looked up at his face. Blushing slightly, one tiny hand held onto his sleeve as the other pointed to the basket. "Can we have a snack?" The little girl glanced at the basket before looking back up at the male, both missing the short bat fae hovering closer in an attempt hear her better.

"Of course, you wanna try the ham and cheese sandwiches I made first? Or do you want something else?" Sebek had sat the book aside and moved the basket in front of them, opening it up to show her its contents so that she could choose their first snack of the day. "Wanna sammich." Her small head nodded, confirming with him that she wanted to try his sandwiches. Granted the way she said it had him laughing, hugging her close but gently as he nodded. "Alright princess, we'll have our sandwiches first. But what about to drink? Do you want water or juice?" His hands reached into the basket, pulling out a sippy cup of water and an orange juice box. Holding them up to the little girl, watching her giggle and reach towards the brightly colored juice. He sat the water to the side for himself before removing 2 neatly wrapped sandwiches, watching her eyes widen as he handed her one half of a sandwich to start with as he got one of his own out. He was too busy fawning over how the girl was and praising her for being willing to try something "new" that he didn't notice Lillia hovering above them, recording the pair as they enjoyed their little picnic adventure together. He almost wished the prefect would stay like this, but he knew the young man would be a father eventually so there was no need to rush. He treated Sebek as one of his own, finding it helped with training the boy since there was a time and place for the active militant training the bat fae knew too well. As the two ate, talking about the story in the book Lillia took the moment to head back to his room. He was content that everything was ok, and he also wanted to go ahead and post the video to magicam to keep their friend group updated on the prefect's status and daily life in their dorm.

[honey-lavender-latte]

Sleep Tight

word count: 711

warnings: night terrors.

description: Plagued by nightmares, George seeks out your comfort in the middle of the night. Comfort/Fluff. George Karim x gn!reader.

notes: this is my first fic ever. it's actually so awful, but i have a plan that if i write enough bad fics, good writers will get tired and start vigorously writing.

***

He can still feel the effects of the bone glass.

George lays in the dark of his room, unable to sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees it all over again. The bone glass, Pamela Joplin. His own words echo in his head.

He longs for how you held him after the event. Sure, you were worried about Lockwood, but all of your focus was on George. You asked how he was feeling, kept a hand on him at all times, never let anyone else get too close.

And he loved it.

He wants to feel how you made him felt again, but he won't bother you in the middle of the night. He can't.

...well...

No. He won't do it. He's handled himself for this long, he can go on for longer.

...

George throws his sheets with a huff and swings his legs over the side of his bed. If he just splashes his face with a little cold water, he'll feel better.

As quietly as he can, he opens his bedroom door and walks to the bathroom. His hand rests on the doorknob, unable to go in. Your bedroom door is just a few steps away. He knows you won't mind, but he can't bring himself to knock.

He finally opens the bathroom door and turns on the sink, splashing his face with cool water. He quickly dries his face and walks out of the cold room...

And straight to your door.

Before George can stop himself, he knocks lightly on the wood. He waits and listens. He starts to believe he shouldn't have done this until he hears a small, "hm...?" on the other side of the door. He slowly twists the doorknob and opens your door, standing in his trouser-less glory.

You sit up in your bed a little, "George? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just," he wrings the edge of his shirt, "I just, um..." He can't seem to get the words out. It feels so silly to him now. Bothering you in the middle of the night just because he can't sleep? It's so ridiculous.

Now sitting on the edge of your bed, you pat the spot next to you, "come 'ere." George shuts the door and swiftly walks to you, eyes never leaving the floor. You watch him as he sits, waiting until he gets comfortable before asking any questions. You lift your hand to rub his shoulder but hesitate, "is it alright if I touch you?" He nods, melting into your light touch. "George, look at me," he lifts his head, "what's bothering you so much tonight?"

"I just...I keep feeling like that night. It feels like the bone glass still has me in a trance." He doesn't mean to just lay it out like that, you have that effect on him. You could ask him anything and he'd tell you everything about it. "I missed you."

You let out a little huff of laughter, "I'm right here, Georgie."

"No, I mean like," he pauses, looking for the right words to articulate how he feels. "I miss how you made me feel." He immediately feels embarrassed as he sees your eyes soften.

You lift both of your hands to his face, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. "How did I make you feel?"

"Like you cared about me a lot."

"I do care about you a lot." You frown a little, "do you think I don't care about you?"

"No, no, it's not that. I...I want you to hold me again. Like you did after I said all those things."

You react almost immediately, "oh, Georgie." You wrap your arms around him and lead him to lay down in your bed. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

He nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his arms around you, "I didn't want to bother you."

"There's nothing you can do to bother me, George. I always want you to come talk to me." You press a kiss to his forehead.

"Thanks, Y/N," he says as he feels his eyes getting droopy. He pulls you closer as you pull the covers over the both of you.

"Anything for you, Georgie." Smiling, you run your fingers through his curly hair. "Sleep tight."

[athingofvikings]

Hey I just wanted to thank you for eloquently pointing out the antisemitism in leftist spaces and the blatant nature of so much of it. I'm personally exhausted and disheartened; but thank you.

I've had friendships ended, groups I've had to abandon, and been called "too sensitive". It's heartening to actually see it all articulated, after beginning to wonder if I was actually jumping at shadows.

You're quite welcome, and yeah, I hear you. It's so frustrating and fatiguing in ramming your head against a wall that should be a door. They claim to want to be better, but as soon as you point out a way in which they can actually put in the effort to be better, suddenly they're aggressively disinterested. It's so tiring.

[shadowmaat]

Open Letter

Dear @photomatt,

I am depressed. I'm discouraged. I am exhausted and burned out and so dang tired all the time. And you really aren't helping.

Look, I know tumblr is deeply in the hole and needs to make money. I know the upcoming Crabageddon isn't going to help as much as people hope it will. But watching tumblr cannibalize itself as it tries so hard to produce a blank, homogenized experience with a blank, homogenized interface just makes me want to cry.

Tumblr has been a refuge for me since 2011. It has changed a lot over the years (like, a LOT), but one thing it has always been- and one thing that has kept me coming back- is how unique it is. Sure, some things are clunky and if you kick the tires too hard they might fall off; or shower you with tubby custard; or start blasting Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley, but it was still a fun hellsite (affectionate) and I was glad to call it home.

These changes you're making? The ones you claim are necessary for the future of the site? You're killing everything that makes tumblr a fun and unique experience. You may be making it "easier" for everyone else to use (¹citation needed), but at the cost of the comfort of the long-time userbase. We are here because we like tumblr. Not tiktok, not twitter, but tumblr.

I know tumblrites have traditionally screamed about every little change since the site was founded, but there's a difference between making cosmetic tweaks and trying to change the fundamental nature of the site.

This isn't about a misplaced concern regarding the reverse-chrono feed, it's about having to manually go in and turn off "tumblr live" every seven days or risk seeing random tits at the top of my screen with every refresh. It's about making the dash look like twitter. It's about disregarding folks who've expressed issues with the lack of accessibility features. And trying to force sign-ups in order to view posts. It's about taking away a safe space and turning a hellsite (affectionate) into a hellsite (despairing).

You knew tumblr was a money pit when you bought it. The site has a reputation for being a money pit that sucks in investors and spits them out again poorer than they were. Now you're using that debt as an excuse to make sweeping changes without caring about feedback from the folks who actually use the site.

So many people have articulated the problems better than I could. People who know about social media and web infrastructure and all the other elements that go into managing a site like this- and the people that come along with it. They've pointed out the flaws, the misinformation, the corporate doublespeak. Some have even suggested alternatives that would maintain the integrity of what tumblr is while still offering a chance to make up the debt. But I get the sense that no one in the upper echelons is listening. That no one cares.

A few weeks ago I was sure we'd be able to outlast you and survive, but now I'm wondering if you're going to pull an Elon and make this place so uninhabitable (at least to long-term users) that we'll feel forced out. And that breaks my heart. I've been here for so long. I don't want to leave. But if you keep pressing forward with your efforts to make tumblr into metatwit-tok, I'll leave. And I'm sure I won't be the only one.

But I guess if all you care about is money then it doesn't matter; we'll be easily replaced by kids and influencers who want everything to be the same everywhere they go.

May your choices reap the dividends you deserve.

shadowmaat

[dilatorywriting]

Cannot help but think of how Leona's going to look when he finally apologizes. I love a grumpy lion man so please dont mind me gushing about just the idea of it TvT

One of my favorite things about him is how his ears go back like cat ears, because they are cat ears. I love it. So I'm picturing him all grumpy, staring at the ground, with his ears flat. He's crossing his arms, jaw clenched, tail swishing.

But he's not angry. Oh no. He's apologizing because he does actually mean it, because he's had enough of seeing Rook and Ace and whoever else waltz inside so easily, and the more time that passes the more the apology seems like a small trivial thing and maybe, just maybe, he feels a little guilty about it after how (begrudgingly) nice you've been to him over the past couple of days.

But his pride's wounded, so the first attempt comes out like a hiss from behind his teeth. You turn to him, part surprise and part confusion, having barely caught what he said. He's staring really hard at the ground and it's silent a moment. Then he looks up at you, huffs through his nose, and says it again. Louder, with better articulation. Two words, and two words only.

You don't get an elaboration on "I'm sorry" and two or three days ago you would've pressed for one, would've made him say the whole "I'm sorry for [insert specific transgression here]" speech. But you have a better read on him now, closed off as he is, and you can immediately tell that this is genuinely difficult for him, for reasons that are beyond you at the moment. So you smile, thank him, and invite him inside, just like you promised you would. You think you see something like relief sink into him, like his whole frame loosens for a brief instant, but he's brushing past you in the next moment with an inarticulate grunt and stepping across the threshold of your house.

Of course, once he does he's sleeping in your bed. Hope you like sharing (good news: you do. and/or you're too tired to care otherwise. Leona makes a nice heater, in any case.).

[historia-vitae-magistras]

24 and 25 for Arthur?

I feel like the answer to 24 might be "nothing, he thinks he's perfect," but I'm very curious. And if there is an answer, I'd be curious to see how it compares to 25.

(Also, if you ever want to expand on the "Francis responds to pain with rage" thing I would be DESPERATELY INTERESTED. I would never have thought of it but somehow it makes perfect sense.)

(Also also, I still have to send you a thing for the latest chapter of the Danegeld Axe!!!! It was amazing and nearly killed me, I've just been very tired and when I'm tired my brain doesn't like articulating things. But I have this next week off so I will do it soon!!!)

24) What they wish they could change about themselves

I feel like this is giving him way too much credit for how self-reflective he is, but christ he wishes he was better at the tender things in life. Save for kneeling beside a death bed, he's hardly ever expressed emotion in a way that wasn't traumatizing for all those involved without using a quote from Shakespeare. And his best moments as a man and father, friend or partner are either exceedingly dual purpose, ungodly awkward or... human. He has this wonderful, sublime language with more words than most and hardly ever uses it to its full potential in a kind way. He's so sharp-tongued that when his passions are up, someone will get cut down. Whether that be by speech or by sword is the only variability. He's an expert at cutting people down to size and much less so at doing anything to build them back up.

25) What other people wish they could change about them

The first word that came to mind was 'everything.' But the big one is just how... realistic the man is. He is one shitty third of an island at the edge of the world's largest continent who then went and conquered a quarter of the known world and controlled far more of it. Everything is a resource to him. His children are incredibly dear but they are also projections of his power and reserve battery packs of it. There's a part of him that is genuinely deluded by his own arrogance but he's also much less morally befuddled than say, Alfred, who genuinely believes the shit that comes out of his mouth. Arthur's bloodtype may as well be realpolitik. Jack especially liked to dress things up when he's little, and kind of disdains Arthur and too a far lesser extent Matt for how little they actually believe in things like democracy and liberty and equality. Well at least until he came back from Gallipoli. But man its the repression. It all boils down to the repression.

[throttlegainwell]

Okay, here's what really gets me about As You Are. Like, obviously there are a lot of things that I'm moved or fascinated by. There's a lot there to think over. I could talk for a truly unreasonable amount of time about it--I am, of course, holding most of it back in a heroic effort of restraint. (You're welcome.)

But, anyway, this is the one fucking me up right now: Mark, who in many other movies would be kind of a tough guy but really just isn't, spends the whole movie offering or providing comfort. Not protection, necessarily--just comfort, just love. He's trying to help people. He wants them to feel better when they're down. He lets Jack and Sarah lie all over him, rest their head on him, draw comfort from him. When Jack is distraught over Kurt Cobain, Mark holds him and hugs him close. When he's touching Jack's face, a lot of that is indulging his own fascination, just because he wants to, because he's high, because Jack is there--but he's also clearly offering something to Jack, even in that moment. When he offers to teach Jack how to kiss, obviously he's not just doing that for Jack, but it's for Jack, you know? He wants it, but he wouldn't have suggested it just because it was something he wanted. When Jack kisses him later, Mark wants it, but that's something that Jack initiates and something during which Mark gives as much as he takes.

He spends the whole movie offering but not really receiving comfort. (I'm not counting the handjob or the hug at the gas station. I think those are 1: a handjob and 2: a greeting.) I'm not saying his friends did wrong by him or weren't loving with him. Just that there was an established dynamic, established habits, and Mark is just... like that.

When Jack checks on him after his head injury, and he asks if he can rest his head in Jack's lap? That's, like... that's the first time he's asked for comfort. The first time he hasn't been the one providing that body to lean on, those arms in which to be held and those hands stroking tenderly. Because who the fuck has ever comforted this kid? Who has ever made him feel entitled to protection and comfort and love focused anywhere near him, let alone right at him?

And it leads directly to what happens next. One soft moment in which all he has to do is let himself take--where he's allowed to take. And then... you know. And afterward, by that point, he's curled inward, locked down, and can no longer allow himself to accept comfort when it's finally offered to him. When he doesn't have to ask for it. Jack tries to comfort him, and it hurts. Because like... that comfort, before--that should have been easy, that felt easy and good--wasn't free. He paid a price for it. And he'll keep paying for it, and it hurts too much, and Jack is young and lives a very different life so he can't see it, and Mark can't explain that. He can't articulate this thing inside of him, his world surrounding and suffocating him. He just knows what he wants and can't have and why he can't have it. All he can really try to get across is to please stop trying to help him, please stop dangling this comfort in front of him that will never be his unless he's willing to suffer for it. And he is so, so tired of suffering.

Having that taste of comfort yanked away is worse than none at all.

[onlyoneofyouu]

My very professional review of Things I Can't Say I LOve by OnlyOneOf

bare with me, i had a long day working and studying and all my two braincells left can do is singing "addict to you- addict-" and thinking about that very specific frame of yoojung from the dOpamine mv (more on this later).

not a single bad song in this album i fear.

things i can't say i lOve (instrumental)

went straight into my sci-fi dystopian cyberpunk playlist. the sound is sooo cool to me!! it's giving ateez ngl (affectionate). love the fact that it's not too rough on the ears and has that airy (?) ending. i've replayed it an embarrassing amount of times already... watch it being one of my most played songs this month 💀

dOpamine

since the preview i suspected i was going to enjoy this title track a lot and more than seOul drift, and i was right! i really like the contrast between the industrial sounds and percussions of the verses reminiscing of chrOme hearts and the guitar in the pre-chorus and bridge (that made me levitate btw). the build-up is nice 😌👌 it's on the ooo chillier side aka perfect for me yay

give me the lOve, bitxx

the sound is giving alternative rnb (too tired to know for sure), so i was sold already 😋 she's the brighter sister of "mirage", the toxic one of "suit dance", and the chiller one of "gaslighting". she sits at the same table of "time machine", "desert" and "heartbreak terminal", and i love this for me because i love all these songs 😎

i might be completely wrong about all the associations above though ... my mind is playing a mashup remix of all of them at this point lol

O

nothing better than a slow sexy rnb-ish sound with percussions to make me happy 🤌 the sound production is so cool again, idk how to articulate words more than this rn, but all the various sounds work perfectly together and with ooo's voices 😌👌 talking of voices... kb's deep register esp in the beginning!! more of this in the future please and thank u 🙌 mill mini-rap followed by junji higher note!! can't seem to hear enough of yoojung tho 🧐👂 and that's a crime also because this is my fav track of the album 😠 i'm gonna look for a color-coded lyrics vid to check 🤨

gravity

this song is sooooo gooooddd ahhhhhhhh really my vibe once again 🤭 the chorus is so cute <3 and nine and junji in the bridge 😮💨 i am levitating 🕴 tbh i see it as a perfect chiller title track too, if ooo had made a bright, cute concept, the genre of vibes that love 119 by riize and inbloom by zerobaseone are for example, but chiller 🤔 also, I CAN HEAR MY MAN YOOJUNG CLEARLY HERE THANK U

time for my current ranking:

O

gravity

dOpamine

give me the lOve, bitxx

in conclusion, i really missed my boys ☹ more than i thought i did tbh! i'm so happy we finally have new music from them 🫶🏻 there's no better way to start the new year~

this is all for now because i am too tired to write anything more 😴

let me know your thoughts!! 🫶🏻