#it's very real y'all

[guardian-angle22]

Tarlos Wedding Celebration Event [Week 14] -> favorite kiss(es)-> Comfort Kisses

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 3

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The third time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — the one that hurts the most.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.4k

Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer

Author’s Note: It's part 3! The tension is heating up, the emotional stakes are rising, and my obsession is only getting worse / better. Let me know what you think! :)

Part 1 // Part 2

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

You step into the darkened club at the height of the company’s weekend party, colorful lights flashing over the dozens of people dancing and chatting across the crowded room, but your eyes are sharpened on the lookout for just one person. Colt Seavers.

You can’t get him out of your head. You’ve spent the last three days doing everything in your power to avoid him on set, from locking yourself in the art trailer to conveniently arranging to work on the still-in-progress train station set. You had entertained the idea that if you could just keep from seeing him for a few days, you could stop replaying every moment of that night in your head.

But even when you’re knee-deep in epoxy or hyper-focused on scoring holes in iron beams, you’re envisioning the way the lamplight accentuated Colt’s features and reflected in his dark blue eyes that night. Try as you may, you can’t forget how absorbed he was in studying your face, or the way he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to escort you to your hotel, or the way he lingered at the doorway as if he wanted to say something.

And you especially can’t forget the way you thought he was going to kiss you.

But then, of course, you had to ruin it. You obviously came on too strong. You physically cringe every time you remember some of the things you said to Colt that night while you were so delirious you couldn’t even stand up straight.

“I bet the desk clerk thought I was drunk and bringing you home with me.”

“I couldn’t have made it without you.”

The fact that Colt has been avoiding you just as hard as you’ve been avoiding him only confirms your anxieties. In the past three days, you’ve only seen him twice, and both times he’s ducked away before you had to have a conversation. It’s not like anything shameful or immodest happened between you — it’s just that you made your crush on him so painfully obvious that you’re sure he’s trying to spare your feelings. The thought makes your heart ache, but it’s ultimately for the best. You’re not about to make a move when it’s so obvious that he’s not interested in anything serious with you.

However, the fact that you’ve been sleeping curled up with his jacket — the one that has his musky smell embedded into its very essence — has not helped matters in the slightest.

You shake your head as you glance around the dark room and wave at your friend Holly across the bar. You’re honestly an embarrassment to yourself. All your life, you’ve had an iron will that bends to your intelligence, not your emotions. Why does that have to change now, all of a sudden?

Holly makes her way around the bar, a drink in her hand and the evidence of more on her breath. You reach out a hand to steady her before she spills her drink all over herself, and she giggles uncontrollably. She’s a talented cinematographer and a dedicated weekend partier.

“Where have you been the last few days?” Holly asks dramatically, as if you’ve committed an atrocity against your friendship. “I haven’t seen you anywhere.”

“Just working on getting the sets perfect,” you shrug, trying not to give anything away. “Besides, I’ve never been one to hang around the cameras too much anyway. That’s your department.”

Holly gives you a mischievous smile and takes another sip of her drink, peering over the edge of the glass at you knowingly. “You certainly seemed to find ways to be near the cameras when a certain stuntman was on set.”

You stiffen immediately, doing your best to paint an unaffected smile on your face and failing miserably. “That’s all over, Hol. Not a thing anymore.”

Holly raises her eyebrows skeptically, and you know she sees right through you. “What a shame,” she grins. “He certainly only had eyes for you.”

That comment sends a stab of pain through your heart, but you ignore it. “It’s fine. Nothing weird, I’m just keeping my distance. Just trying to avoid a heartbreak, that’s all.” The words are technically true.

“Got it,” Holly nods conspiratorially. She takes another sip of her drink and glances around the room. “Well, he didn’t show up here tonight, so you don’t have to worry about him. You can just have fun!”

The words have barely left Holly’s mouth before her eyes widen to a comical size at something behind you. Somehow, you already know who just walked in the door, and your heart gives another spectacular lurch.

Knowing you need to get this over with, you turn to face him, your heart in your throat. Sure enough, Colt slips through the club door, glancing around the room intently, as if he’s looking for something. Or someone, you can’t help thinking.

His eyes land on you, and he freezes in his tracks. A mixture of emotions — nervousness, embarrassment, surprise — crosses his face. You know it’s going to be awkward after all that’s happened, so you try to break the ice. “Hey, fall guy,” you greet him, instantly regretting it. Too flirtatious, stop it right now.

Colt smiles, something like relief crossing his tense features. “Hey, da Vinci,” he responds over the boom of the club’s music, closing the door behind him and taking a single step in your direction. He shoves his hands in his jeans pockets, and you suddenly notice that he’s not dressed for a company party.

“What brings you here?” you ask, trying to ignore the way Holly is pressing into your side and doing a horrible job of hiding her elbowing. “I thought you weren’t a fan of these company parties.”

Colt shrugs, looking past you into the crowd. “Yeah, not really. Just came to drop some stuff off with George for tomorrow’s session.” He swallows hard, as if he’s pondering something, then lets his eyes fall back on you. “What about you? I thought you didn’t like the company parties either.”

I don’t. I came to try to forget about you.

“Oh,” you say casually, “just dropping by. Holly asked me to come.” You squeeze Holly’s hand to signal her for backup, and, intoxicated as she is, she immediately jumps in to help.

“I did!” she exclaims, a little too enthusiastic. “We were actually just talking about — ah, we were just talking about…” Holly hesitates way too long, and you cringe inwardly. “Your stunt!” she recovers. “Your transfer truck stunt!”

“Your what?” Your curiosity is instantly piqued, along with your worry. “I don’t remember a transfer truck stunt in the script.”

Colt smiles a little, the first one you’ve seen since he walked in. “Gordon decided to try it out today. He thought it would spice up the car chase scene.”

Holly jumps in with gusto, clearly excited to have turned you onto a better topic. “Yeah! Gordon came up with it at the last minute. The stunt was originally supposed to just be VFX, but Colt said he could do it.”

“Do what?” you ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Colt shrugs. “Just a jump. One transfer truck to another.”

“The top of one transfer truck to another!” Holly adds for emphasis, sloshing a bit of drink over the edge of her cup. “At top speed, while the trucks are rounding a hairpin turn in the canyon!”

Your eyes widen, and you turn your shocked expression on Colt. “Tell me you’re joking,” you manage.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he amends, obviously embarrassed by Holly’s dramatic retelling. “It’s not like Gordon forced me to do anything. I volunteered and said I could do it.”

“You could have gotten killed!” You’re not sure why you feel so passionately about this; he is a stuntman, after all. But something about knowing that you’ve been avoiding him for three days while he’s been performing death-defying stunts rattles you in a way you can’t ignore. While you’re gathering fire for a rant, Holly backs away into the crowd, an impish smile on her face.

Colt’s smile comes more easily this time, and he takes another step closer to you, ducking his head to look more squarely into your eyes. “Hey, calm down,” he reassures you. “No major injuries. No brushes with death. Just a cool shot.”

You press your lips together, still bubbling over with an emotion you can’t name. “Risking your life for a cool shot isn’t something to laugh about,” you tell him, though there’s no real edge to your voice. You glance down at his hand that’s resting on the bar beside you. “What happened to your hands?” you demand.

Both Colt’s hands are wrapped in bandages that you hadn’t even noticed until he pulled them out of his pockets. His expression shifts again, this time to a kind of bemused concern. “Just a little friction burn, that’s all,” he assures you. He brings one of his hands up to rest on your right shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze that makes your stomach flip in response. “Don’t waste your worries on me, Picasso. I’m a stuntman, remember? Taking risks is what I do.”

Colt’s laid-back tone does calm you a little, and you fight the urge to shake your head at yourself again. What are you thinking? Why are you getting so emotional about this in front of him? Play it cool, explain it logically, don’t make the same mistake you did before.

“Yeah, I know,” you admit, shrugging. “It just seems like Gordon is pushing you harder than he was before. It’s like he’s getting too comfortable putting you in more and more danger for the sake of impressive shots.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Colt tells you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he cocks his head as his gaze flits over your face. “And it’s no different than you going without sleep for three days to finish a setpiece.”

“It is not the same thing,” you begin, but he shakes his head, leaning one elbow on the bar to tilt his head closer to you. You despise yourself for weakening your resolve, but you can’t resist leaning closer to him, too — so close you can feel yourself getting lost in the dark blue of his eyes.

“Sure it is,” he said softly, his husky voice carrying over the short space between you even with the loud music playing in the background. “I do stunts because it’s what I love to do, even if they’re dangerous. You make the sets look amazing because it’s your passion, even when it means you have to go without sleep. I guess we’re both just too dedicated to our crafts, huh?”

You’re finding it difficult to think of a response, your eyes locked on his. All the resolve you’ve been building for the last three days melts under the heat of his gaze. Something like a magnet is pulling you even closer to him. Your mind unhelpfully flashes back to the night you were wrapped under his arm while walking to your hotel room, his warmth enveloping you.

“Well,” you murmur, trying desperately not to look at his lips, “my dedication won’t result in a broken neck.”

Colt lifts one eyebrow in response, leaning a hairsbreadth forward. “Neither will mine,” he whispers.

You mirror his quirked eyebrow, lowering your voice to match his. “How do you know?”

Colt keeps his eyes locked on yours, but one of his hands reaches up to the side of your face unnoticed. His palms are bandaged, but he uses his fingertips to twirl a strand of your hair. Your breath catches when he tucks the strand behind your ear, his touch searing your skin even in the brief contact, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m the best in the business,” he tells you as he finally pulls his hand away from your temple.

You smile at his teasing tone. The distance between you keeps closing, a quarter of an inch at a time, and you can feel the burning heat of his skin the closer you get. His eyes don’t drift from yours, but the tension is so potent that you can barely take a breath.

“The best in the business,” you repeat, a coy smile edging the corners of your lips. “Haven’t you heard that pride comes before the fall?”

“Mmm hmm,” Colt hums, and you feel the sound reverberate in your very bones. Your faces are only a few inches apart now. Everything — the music, the crowd, the flashing lights — is forgotten, consumed by the fire blazing in his eyes. His gaze finally tears off your eyes and slowly, so slowly, steals down to your lips. His own lips part slightly, as if he’s finally about to lean forward and close the tantalizing distance between you.

Suddenly you couldn’t care less about all the reasons why you shouldn’t.

But then, your heart still hammering against your ribs, your skin prickling, your lungs strangled into stillness, Colt pulls away from you.

The abrupt distance feels like a cold bucket of water on your head after the heat of what you just shared. Colt seems to feel the shock too, rubbing both hands over his face and letting out a shaky breath before his casual smirk returns.

“Wow,” he half laughs, shaking out his arms and shoulders dramatically. “Nothing like a club’s vibe to muddy the waters, right?”

His careless comment stuns you even more than his quick withdrawal did. You suddenly realize how much every moment with him means to you, and the stinging pain of rejection is amplified a thousand times by his casual attitude.

He doesn’t care. He seriously doesn’t care at all.

You try to recover some dignity, but you know you’ve already blown that more times than you can count. All you can choke out is, “Yeah,” and then a listless, “See you around,” before you slip past his shoulder and head for the door. You can already feel the hot tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, and you’re not going to embarrass yourself further by letting him see you cry. You throw up a hand at Holly as you hurry out the club door into the chilly evening air, barely registering her questioning look.

What you don’t notice is the way Colt clenches his hands into fists against the pain of his burns, or the way he squeezes his eyes shut to block out the memory of your devastated expression.

All you know is the pain of the rejection, the bitterness of your tears, and the smell of his jacket as you fall asleep that night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Part 4

[willczek-art]

Decided to give Dragon Age another try and the first character I meet COMPLETELY wins me over in a matter of seconds-

[mxfrodo]

y'all for fucking real. don't fucking write slave fics or x reader fics of aventurine's slavery??? are you guys out of your goddamn minds???

[shiftythrifting]

Some things from a giant flea market in Packwood, wa

1. Coca cola brand yoyo string

2. A giant bellows for a blacksmith forge

3. What I found out later after googling is Rat Fink, a mascot for an old hot rod club

4. A license of prostitution, which I didn't know was a thing (my partner bought it)

5. Old gas station bathroom condom dispensers.

6. A miniature hand powered sewing machine. Only about 5-6 in length.

[whatisamildopinion]

god help me I've finally found a wing design I like. it only took me months. anyway y'all have some aasimar Riz because my au is eating my brain whole!

[sailing-through-hawkins]

steve as a mothman cryptid that robin and dustin try to protect (well, robin does most of the protecting, dustin usually gets distracted trying to experiment on him)

and eddie as a cryptid-enthusiast who's just so curious about dustin's very bad lying about where he's going every weekend

obviously he follows him and is tackled by 7ft of fluffy moth-steve, who ends up getting distracted by all of eddie's sparkly jewellery

robin threatens bodily harm, dustin asks for help as a lab assistant and steve keeps trying to bite through his leather jacket

(yes eddie wants to kiss the mothman, yes robin gives him shit for it, no he doesn't think using neon glow-in-the-dark lipstick is a good flirting technique)

[hiseyeisonthesparrow]

[gxthiqlxlita]

ooo changing it up these are mostly single character interactions woah

actually used leona this time (savanaclaw is my least fav dorm, no hate to savanaclaw enjoyers tho love y'all 🫶)

[astralstarlight]

“You love me, right?” 

He watches your movements stop. 

Ran doesn’t do this. The eldest Haitani brother always shows up self-assured; every bone in his body reminding him that he’s right and if he’s not right, then he’ll simply make it right. And yet, he can’t help but swallow past the dryness in his throat as he asks you the question. He’s Ran Haitani. The same Ran who’s bleary eyed and still in his suit, sitting with his elbows on your shared kitchen countertop on a Tuesday night, but for some reason, he can’t seem to meet your eyes. 

This is what he’s always done – shown up late and let you care for him, breathing life back into his tired bones. It’s a cycle that never seemed to end, even now that you were both adults. He cares for you too, obviously. He’d burn the world down for you or run away with you and never look back, if you asked him to. His fingers twitch. Maybe not the second option. But you were something else to care for now, another worry added to his list that used to only consist of Rindou Haitani. 

You turn from your chopping board to face him warily. Maybe he’s asking this to tease you. Maybe he’s worried. Ran’s shaking his foot, head pointedly turned away to face the windows instead of you. 

Do you know that if you deny him or brush him aside, he’ll fall apart? Do you know that he’s absolutely ready to spend the rest of his life coming home to you? 

“Yeah, I love you.” You’ve neglected your dinner preparations now, choosing to lean over the countertop to look at him. The water simmers steadily behind you in the pot. “What’s this all about then?” 

There’s a smile in your voice, he knows it before he even meets your gaze. He turns his head and there it is: your lips curving upwards in amusement. It’s your eyes that betray a flicker of worry. Ran sighs in relief. 

“It’s nothing.” He says quickly, pushing off from his seat and wandering around your form to check on the now boiling water. To his dismay, you follow him, peeking over his shoulder as well. You’re close enough that he can feel your warmth just behind him. Maybe he should kiss you. 

“Are you jealous again?” Your question leaves him stunned, a tilt of your head lets him know you're teasing him.

“No.” A pause. “Should I be?” 

You do it first, kissing his cheek and nudging him out of the way with your hip. You’re braver than him. It’s something he realised a long time ago, but something that keeps appearing in his thoughts everyday. He wants to be brave too. But what he really does is instead is stand next to you in a frozen position, waiting for your answer. 

“Never.” There’s that smile on your face again, a cheeky one, even as you’re looking up at him to make sure he’s really listening. “I’d choose you every day.” 

“Good.” Although his heart stutters at the comment, he’s glad that his words stay calm. “There’s no one better than me.” 

Ran acts on his thoughts this time, wrapping his arms around your middle loosely. Another pause, and then he’s resting his chin on top of your head, a satisfied huff leaving him as you don’t push him away. 

This type of lifestyle has always been a pipe dream really. But it’s real now, and you’re still here after all these years so he must be doing something right. His hand reaches into his pocket, running his fingers over a small, velvet box. 

One day, much later, he’ll be brave and maybe even surprise you. But for now, he’s contented with coming home to you. 

[as8bakwthesage]

Considering that in the Iliad and in the Odyssey, a lot of Odysseus' faults aren't even discussed like they are in the "Epic" musical, how different stories paint the sacking of Troy with more or less detail (the Iliad versus the Aeneid, for example), and who murdered Astyanax also depends on the story (Astyanax isn't even mentioned in the Iliad, Odyssey, or Aeneid, but in other lesser known books/stories), it's very interesting how Jorge Rivera-Herrans chooses to paint Odysseus' character.

You can only assume that "Epic the Musical" really is just a very specific character study about this one dude that Jorge hyperfixated on, huh?

[yangjeongin]

i’m having problems

[theepitomeofamess]

was thinking about fabian & riz at lunch again & needed to get thoughts out about my darling boy

Fabian thinking he's so much like his father. Fabian seeing Aelwyn & recognizing his mother--beautiful, mean, inebriated, guaranteed to outlive him, maybe kill him--and immediately telling her he loves her. after all, his father proposed to his mother before he knew her name. Fabian wondering why his infatuation faded after she domesticated, after he'd seen the wilds of Leviathan, after he realized how much he was not his father.

Fabian meeting Mazey & Ivy, recognizing his patterns, & deciding to try the soft option. he's not so much like his father, why shouldn't he have something soft, a simple, easy waltz compared to the tango he thought he'd enjoy. He doesn't need to recreate his parent's love story.

Fabian not recognizing for years that he already has. Fabian not recognizing there's already someone who's thrown themself at Fabian's feet in spite of his previous injury to them. Fabian not recognizing the creature of chaos that would rather burn down the world themself than lose him. Fabian not recognizing his anchor to reality, the one who most consistently leads him into what's important, that, between disparate lifespans and their collective pension for barreling head-first into life-threatening situations, he will one day have to learn to live without. Fabian not recognizing that he categorically refuses to think about that.

Fabian not recognizing that he gets the same feeling in his gut from the first time he saw Aelwyn when The Ball starts eating Kalvaxus. Fabian not recognizing that the feral look Riz gets when his eyes slit feels the same as when he watches his Papa take a turn toward violence. Fabian not recognizing how much better it might have been if his parents were best friends before Bill proposed. Fabian not recognizing how much he's like his mother.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I think for all the discussions we have of "everyone hears the jokes and the piano; after that, they stop listening" surrounding Louis, we tend to still simplify his connection to the piano.

Yes, it's very cute that he sings Clementine a little song when they first meet, and it's very cute that he plays a little prank on her while "tuning" the piano. It's super cute that they carve their initials into the piano and Clementine carves a heart around them. It's mega cute that he names his song he wrote after her when she confesses her feelings. Louis playing Don't Be Afraid at the party is, in my opinion, one of the best moments in all of TFS.

But here's the thing: That piano is Louis' heart.

I don't mean to go all metaphorical on you, but I'm dead serious—the piano is Louis' heart, and when you think about his arc and his romance route with that in mind...?

That piano is his one comfort in a world where the dead walk. It's been with him from the beginning of the outbreak. We know from his backstory that Louis wanted to take singing lessons so he could be a real musician, and his father denying him of that was what set him off to be a "vindictive fuckhead." Louis never got those singing lessons, and it's a very real possibility that Louis taught himself how to play.

Sure, others could've taught him; we know Minerva was musically talented, perhaps she showed him a thing or two. But learning piano, or any instrument, is brutal even with professional guidance. It takes hours of practice until numbness wears fingertips raw; dedication to memorize every key and finger placement to make music pleasing to the ear; self-discipline to keep going through every fumble, every failure, every single cruel thought of self-doubt; intelligence and a creative ear to write his own songs.

And yet, it's severely under-appreciated by everyone. It's annoying. It's distracting. It's unimportant. It's an excuse for Louis to mess around and not do any real work. He doesn't have any actual talent. The music and the piano are brushed off, unheard.

Yet, Louis keeps playing. He keeps singing. He keeps making jokes.

Creating music, the one thing he wanted so badly as a kid that he destroyed his parents marriage, was possibly the greatest comfort he had... a welcome distraction to disassociate from the horror and death happening around him.

It's bittersweet, like a purpling bruise that you can't stop pressing on; it hurts, but there's something else below the pain. The piano is out of tune and it's something that brings him joy... but will always act as a constant reminder of who he was and what he did, why he's at Ericson to begin with.

We first meet him while he's playing; Louis' heart is exposed, but is it really? Is he playing to his true potential? Louis hides behind the mask of a charming, charismatic goof. It's what is expected of him, so he plays a silly song intended to poke and prod at Clementine, to gauge a reaction. That's something we see him do at multiple points in episode one. In fact, we can consider a majority of episode one to be like the song he's playing when we meet him; it's mostly cheery or fast-paced.

Louis is able to soothe AJ with his "alluring" music after the kid bit Ruby is an indication that the two of them will share a bond. Louis is a natural at communicating and bonding with the younger kids [another talent that's overlooked] so it's interesting that he praises AJ for being a natural at piano, as well.

But the song stutters just a bit when Louis and Clementine are in the woods together, though; "There's only one guarantee: this moment. That's the only you got, only thing any of us got. Might as well enjoy it." ...Only for Louis to compose himself and send her away.

It's only when Clementine has a gun in her face, held by Marlon, that the music isn't fun anymore; it's rainfall and thunder and the words "I thought you were more than that" sung through the wind in a melody only Louis can hear.

Then Marlon's dead. The song is over, and reality has arrived.

I've talked at length about Louis in ep2 and his vote in the past. It's one of the most compelling things about Louis' arc and romantic route. It's a tragic mistake driven by trauma and guilt. It's people simultaneously telling him to shut up and telling him to be angrier than he is. Telling him to stop burying his head in the sand when he's never been more aware of everything happening. It's AJ peering up at him with pleading eyes that Louis can't stand to look at. It's Clementine wrapping his heartstrings around her fingers and tugging just enough to hurt, but not break.

Louis missed Clementine. He says as much when Clementine admits she missed him first. I don't even know where to begin with that! I can think of no other way to describe it other than they are half agony, half hope over this... and if you get that reference, you get a gold star. I just- the ache, the tension, the conflicting feelings of finally having a quiet moment to talk but Louis not being ready yet.

Y'know how someone carved "you suck at playing" in the side of the piano? It's something you might not initially notice while playing the game, just as Louis' insecurities aren't apparent at first.. but they're carved in him; never fully healed, still scabbed and bleeding... Until Clementine offers him a bandage.

She won't clean the wound for him, but she'll be there. She'll help him figure out how to do it himself so he can heal. She'll listen to him, not belittle his feelings or pain. She'll make an effort to know his keys and notes and practice playing his song until she understands.

When Clementine chooses him to spend time with him, it's a mirror of their first time meeting... but this time, Louis plays something real: a song he wrote, one that I believe he crafted during the two week time skip... a song he wrote with Clementine on his mind, for better or worse.

If the piano is Louis' heart, he literally asks her to sit there and try to tune it, which ends up being a joke but I say she's already tuned your heart, my guy. It's there before them, changed in the warm candlelight. He plays for her and opens up about how no one actually listens, but Clementine did.

And remember, this is the night of the raid. They don't know it's coming, but they know it'll be soon. Louis understands that he could very well die, so what does he do? He carves his initial into the one thing he's always had, and he asks Clementine to do the same.

I'm sorry, how are we NOT more feral about this? Prior to this scene, the only thing we see carved into the piano, into Louis' heart, is an insult. This thing that Louis cares so deeply about, this instrument that's become so intertwined with who he is... he wants to leave his mark on it just in case he dies. A reminder that it was his and he belonged to it just as much. Something so important, and he asks Clementine to carve herself into his heart where no matter what, they will be immortalized together in this moment.

And when Clementine carves a heart around their initials? Yes, his reaction is very cute and that's great... but she's not ashamed of him, or her feelings for him. She wants everyone who looks upon his heart to know that. She tells him how she feels and Louis is so giddy, and warm, and he names the song after her and I am going to start biting anything that moves, I can't-

Oh, and let's discuss the party scene in episode three, shall we? Y'know, where the heart covered initials are on full display? Where Louis tells the story of why he was sent to Ericson to everyone?

Louis is so... vulnerable. Sincere. Ashamed of what he did. This is the exposed nerve, the one he was so afraid of showing Clementine but there it is... and she doesn't reject him. Sure, she can say it's fucked up if you choose to, but she doesn't break up with him over it.

Also the fact that everyone sitting around him finally listens when he's at his most unshielded only for Tenn to ask him to play Don't Be Afraid for them after...? How do you not see the connection? Are you trying to make me cry? In that moment, Louis' heart was heard and appreciated and beautiful and strong and-

Listen. I am fine. I'm so normal about this. And fine. I'm fine.

But I also have to add that during the walk in episode four, if you let Louis choose what to add to the imaginary house, he picks a brand new piano because he wants a new heart to reflect the confidence and growth Clementine helped him achieve and because he loves her and AJ so much that wants the new heart to not just be his but also theirs and I am so fine with this, okay.

[punkeropercyjackson]

'We need to get weirder about gender!!!'You guys can't even handle femme transmascs who don't wanna be called f*mboys,binary feminine trans women or fucking afab she/theys

[hadesoftheladies]

went on the twitter radfem space and it was full of the most obscene racism and violent language. tiktok is absurd, too. and now radblr is just near constant in-fighting and bullying. there's just no room for black radical feminists on the internet. i think i've gotten all i was ever going to get from this place. i think it's time i just move out of here and focus on reading theory and building irl community and maybe focus on the youtube channel. any mutuals that want to keep in touch, y'all can message me and we can figure out how to stay in touch elsewhere! (like discord maybe!) those who want to follow the channel can subscribe and stay subscribed until i upload. i may just create a website specifically for blogging and my thoughts after compiling the posts i've kept on this account. not deactivating immediately, since i still have loads to figure out and arrange, but i don't think i'm helping anyone on here and i'm tired of the hostility. i don't need anymore in my life. i'd rather just curate in my own space and accumulate a volume of work that i can use for other things and not have my blog polluted by racism, homophobia and anti intellectualism. i'm tired of trying to convince the unwilling. i'd rather just be a proper essayist and have people fight about me rather than with me XD.