#literally felt like I was on the verge of death the entire time I was in high school. like stress wise.

[loveharlow]

LOVE SICK

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Ex!Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [3.1k] Who knew being sick could be grounds for rekindling a flame with your ex...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of being sick/throwing up, mentions of a failed relationship, Y/n’s a little mean but it’s warranted (for the most part), hurt/comfort (?), mild angst, fluff at the end 

A/N‧₊˚ My first post got a lot more attention than I anticipated, ty all sm. I was literally smiling from ear to ear like a fucking kid but here’s something new! I’m trying to make my way through all the basic genres (like fluff to hurt/comfort to angst, etc…) to get into the hang of it so bare with me please.

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

I FELT LIKE SHIT. Absolute shit. 

I woke up with a sore throat and decided to pour up a glass of tea, hoping it would ease the dry aching of my throat, even if only temporary. 

I didn’t have work today. In fact, I was due to hangout with the Pogues in a couple of hours. It was nothing special. We were just planning to hangout at John B’s, probably drink beers around a fire and pass out.

But now, as I sat up from my nap hours after I gulped down my mug of hot tea—throat feeling ten-times worse, a spontaneous and incessant headache pounding in my skull, and my entire body covered in a thin sheen of sweat despite feeling cold to the point where I was lightly shivering, I didn’t think going out was in my best interest.

Even swinging my legs over the edge of my bed was a struggle. They felt too heavy to maneuver. 

Just then, my bedroom door was cracking open—my mother peeking in, dressed in her waitress uniform. “Hey, hun. I’m off to work. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.” I insisted, voice raspy. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stepped further into my bedroom, coming to stand next to me with a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you sure- Jesus, Y/n, you’re burning up.” She hissed, quickly removing her palm from shoulder and moving it to my forehead, flipping it back and forth to assess my body temperature. “Hold on.”

Then she was stepping back out into the hall where I could hear her rifling through the hallway closet. She re-entered the room seconds later with a thermometer, prompting me to open my mouth as she turned it on and planted it underneath my tongue and I clamped my lips around it.

I felt like a child but I couldn’t care less. 

A few moments pass and the device sticking out of my mouth was beeping and I take it out. 102.4. Damn.

“Well, you’re sick alright.” My mother proclaims, taking the small device from my hands. She sighs and runs her hands down her face. “I could call in and stay here if you want? I’m sure-”

“Mom, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to call out of work just because I have a fever, or whatever.” I assured her. 

“Are you absolutely positive? I know you haven’t had the best past few weeks lately and-”

“Mom.”

I knew what she getting at. And I’d be lying if I said she was anywhere near wrong. First, JJ breaks up with me out of nowhere after being together for over 2 years—I’m talking no explanation or anything. Having to be around him and act like we were just friends, which I guess now we were, sucked. So, in truth, being sick wasn’t too bad right now.

Then, I get a rejection letter in the mail from one of the colleges I applied to—one of my top choices, at that. Now, I feel like someone ran me over then threw me into an incinerator. I appreciated her concern but I wasn’t on the verge of death, no matter how much I felt like I was. I’d be fine. We needed the money.

“Go to work. I’ll be okay. If I need something, I can call Kie or someone.” I told her with the best smile I could offer. She was still hesitant but she nodded, exiting the room with a ‘love you’. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I let out a soft sigh. Closing my eyes for a few moments to let the pounding in my head subside for a few moments before I had to face the inevitable and get out of bed. 

Standing up on shaky legs, the room spun for a moment until it steadied and I was walking—more like dragging myself—out of my bedroom and to the bathroom across the narrow hall.

I opened the mirror cabinet above the sink looking for pain medication until I found it, barely full with maybe a small handful left. Trudging my heavy frame through the hall once again, this time to the kitchen, I poured myself a generous glass of water—with ice because I hated the taste of room temperature water, sick or not. 

Taking a sip beforehand for good measure before throwing the tiny tablet back and washing it down. Now, there was nothing I could really do but wait for it to kick in.

A shower could probably help to ease some of the pain, though.

A shower definitely helped. My muscles didn’t feel as sore, either. However, I’m sure that was thanks the medication finally kicking in. I still felt chilly and my throat was definitely still struggling. There was nothing more I could think to do. 

So, walking out of the bathroom, steam curling out behind me, I made my way to the living room, grabbing the throw blanket that was slung over the edge of the small couch and plopping down. I just wanted to lay down and get comfy but staying in my room wouldn’t help at all. Plus, I was closer to the kitchen if I got hungry and fairly close to the bathroom if I felt the need to throw up.

Sifting through Netflix, I settled on some show I had passed a few times.

THE third episode of whatever I was watching was starting and so far, I had gotten up to drink some more water—the mere thought of food making my stomach cave in on itself—and took another ibuprofen when I felt my headache making a return. I was reaching for the remote to turn the volume up when the door bell rang.

I groaned, not in the mood to get up. Pausing the show and wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, I rose from the couch and drug myself to the front door.

Upon opening it my eyes went wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“What are you doing here?” I asked the boy standing in my doorway. I truly didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh but I guess the bitterness I’d been hiding since our breakup was crawling to the surface. 

I didn’t even notice how dark it had gotten outside, the sun had completely gone down.

“We-uh. You were supposed to meet us at The Chateau but you never showed so…” JJ said nervously, a hand on the back of his neck as he avoided looking me in the eyes. 

I had completely disregarded my plans with the Pogues, meaning to tell Kie that I wasn’t feeling well and hoping she’d pass the message along.

However, this was the first time JJ and I had been alone—truly alone since he broke things off. Anytime we saw each other was around the Pogues or at school. We didn’t even text each other separately anymore. 

“Guess I just wanted to make sure you were alright…” He trailed off. A gust of cool air swept through my house and it was then that I realized I had him standing outside.

Stepping to the side, I motioned my head for him to come in, an action of which took him by surprise but he accepted the invite nonetheless.

“You could’ve just texted, y’know.” I spoke, closing the door behind him and locking it. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here...” I couldn’t help the judgmental tone of my voice.

Yes, we broke up but I still couldn’t help the dissatisfied feeling in my stomach behind it. JJ never gave me a reason as to why he decided to end our relationship. We were together for a long time and we went through a lot. So for him to break things off on the simple premise of things “not working out” was off-putting for me. Even Kie said that it was kind of a dick move and didn't make sense.

I moved past him to plop back down on the couch, my legs beginning to feel weak the longer I stood. JJ stood awkwardly behind me and though I couldn’t see him, he was practically radiating nervousness. I sighed and turned on the sofa to face him.

“JJ.”

“Hm?”

“Please, sit down somewhere.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He apologized, moving across the screen in front of me to plant himself on the couch, on the other end—as far away from me as possible.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know why I just didn’t unpause the TV or ask him why he felt the need to come all the way down here but he was the one who came here so I just let him work out whatever he was going to say, if he was going to say anything at all.

“Are you sick?” Was the first thing he said after a couple minutes of radio silence. 

“Huh?” I turned my head to the right to face him only to find him already looking at me—the first time he’s actually looked at me since we ended things. I forgot just how it felt to look in his eyes, the way my heart would speed up.

“You look sick. I-I mean, not like you look bad, you just look tired and your nose is kind of red.”

“Uh, yeah. I meant to tell you guys I wasn’t gonna show up. Just slipped my mind, I guess.” I muttered, the raspiness of my voice now accompanied by shakiness from how it felt to actually talk to JJ after weeks of not doing so. It was extremely awkward but I'd be lying if I said I wanted him to leave.

“Did you eat anything?” He inquired hesitantly, genuine concern laced in his tone. I could still feel his gaze on the side of my face since I tore my own away. I shook my head ‘no’ and within seconds he was standing from the couch and disappearing towards the kitchen.

I knitted my eyebrows at the sound of his heavy shoes hitting the floor, a sound I missed dearly when he would come over or stay the night. However, my confusion didn’t subside as I followed after him, finding him opening the cabinet where we kept the canned foods, pulling out a can of soup. “Oh, absolutely not.” I started, shaking my head and walking over to him, blanket still on my shoulders.

I stood in front of him, reaching for the can until he held it above his head and out of my reach. I huffed and leaned against the counter beside me as he raised a brow. "Do you not like this flavor or...?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“It’s just soup.”

“No, it’s not. It’s some kind of…gesture, or something.” I countered weakly.

“I don’t think it is.” He shrugged.

“Well, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re just mad at me.”

My jaw dropped slightly, trying to find a response. But he was right. I had no reason to stop him from heating me up a can of fucking soup. I was just pissed. I’m still in love with him and whether he knows it or not, I’m still hurt.

“I have a right to be.” I murmured under my breath, sliding down against the cabinets until I was sitting on floor, legs out in front of me. JJ pulled out a pot and poured the soup in, adding a bit of water since it was condensed and turning on the stove. Once he got it all together, he was sliding down too, except on the opposite side with his feet next my hip. 

“I know. I don’t blame you.” He faltered. He sounded sad.

“You never told me why.” I whispered, trying not to strain my voice but also slightly nervous about the conversation that was stirring. JJ sighed a placed a hand on my calf, waiting a moment to see if I’d pull away or brush him off. I didn’t.

“I got scared.” He admitted. His words sent me into a mental spiral—we were together for 2 years, I thought we were way passed the stage of being scared of commitment or whatever. “Stop thinking about it.” He said firmly, seeing the tell-tale signs of my confusion written all over my face. “Just- I know we talked about it before. Commitment, loyalty and all that stuff but when I was talking to John B a while ago, he was saying stuff that just made my head spin.”

“Like?”

“It was nothing bad. Just stuff like, he could see us getting married and having a family and that he didn’t think I had it in me until he saw how I was with you.”

“And that scared you?” I questioned. I couldn’t hide the hurt in my eyes. “The thought of a future with me…scared you?”

“No, no, God no-”

“You’re confusing me, JJ.” I hated how weak I sounded, as if the thought of him not wanting to be with me would be the death of me. But JJ was a huge part of my life whether I liked it or not. He had seen every part of me.

“I’m saying-” He took a deep breath, lifting the hat off of his head to run his fingers through his hair before putting it back down and letting his head fall against the cabinet, looking up at the ceiling. “It was me. I want all of that with you but I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it, y’know? And I know you told me you wanted all of that somewhere down the line but I never thought about it so deeply before. We’re graduating soon and I just never really took the time to think about what would happen once we actually grew up. I probably won’t leave here and lord knows I’m not cut out to be a father-

“Don’t. Don’t even go there. You’re nothing like him, you know that.”

“It’s not that.” He chuckled humorlessly under his breath, head falling back down to look at me. “I ate a moldy sandwich for fucks sake, Y/n.”

That elicited a laugh from me that I couldn’t stop. “Yeah, I was there. I still think about it sometimes. You can be so gross.” I spoke through laughs. When I came down, my eyes met his once again. “But seriously,” I started, my smile dropping slightly. “You could’ve told me. You should have. JJ, if I wasn’t sure that you were what I wanted, I wouldn’t have roped you in with me.”

“You say that I’m what you want but, am I what you deserve?” He questioned, defeated. I could see the tears brimming in his waterline, threatening to spill with one blink. 

I don’t know what confidence washed over me but I was suddenly crawling over to him to straddle his waist, making sure to take the blanket around my shoulders with me—the fleece falling over both of us as I cupped his face with both hands and looked him in the eyes. I was mad when he broke up with me and none of that bitterness had dissipated until now, as this beautiful and loving boy sat here and poured out, what I hoped was, the last of his insecurities to me.

A boy who had loved me regardless and only did what he thought would be better for me in the long run. A man who barely received love in his life but was able to give every ounce he had to me. And he was asking if he deserved me?

“JJ, I love you. If anything, I don’t deserve you. With the life you’ve had, you could’ve easily become the biggest asshole this world has ever seen.” He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But you haven't. And so what if you don’t make it out of here? I don’t care. And who says you have to? JJ, you will do something with your life. You didn't even think you'd be graduating but you look at you. You're gonna walk across that stage with all of us. I don’t care whether it’s in the Outer Banks or thousands of miles away from here, you will be amazing. And whenever we get to that point, because we will, you will be an amazing father and husband and whatever else. You’re it for me.”

He stared into my eyes, a lone tear falling down his cheek. And I could see his full expression now, he was so vulnerable. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” I spoke softly, my own eyes beginning to water.

“I still love you, Y/n. And I’m an idiot-”

“No, you’re not. You’re just a big ass softie who sucks at communicating.” I laughed, him joining. Once we quieted down, my hands dropped from his face as one of his came up to cradle my cheek, he was leaning in to kiss me and at the last second I turned so his lips met my cheek.

He pulled back with a look of puzzlement. I shrugged with a shy smile on my face, “I don’t want to get you sick.” JJ rolled his eyes and the hand cradling my cheek moved to grab my jaw, holding it in place as he placed a long and sweet kiss to my lips. God, I missed this feeling. Once, he released my face, he was smiling and his cheeks were pink. “You’re going to get sick.”

“Then I’ll have an excuse for you to take care of me.” He said as he stood up, not moving me from his lap, just holding me close so I wouldn’t fall as he rose from the floor, me wrapping my legs around his waist. He turned to the side so my frame wasn’t blocking his view as he looked at the boiling pot of soup and turned the fire off, my arms around his neck and head leaning towards him. “Who’s the big softie now, huh? You’re clinging to me like a Koala.”

I just shrugged, not bothering to pick my head up from his shoulder to look at him. “You picked me up. It's not like I wasn’t going to stop you.” Just as I said this, he sat me down on the counter to retrieve two bowls to pour the soup into. Pouring it equally and putting spoons into the bowls, he turned around, handing me my bowl with a napkin underneath as barrier between the hot porcelain and my hands and placed his on the counter as he stood next to me.

“Does this mean we’re back together? Because I missed you way too much for this to not mean anything.” I asked timidly, swishing the soup around with the spoon, still not entirely keen on the idea of eating.

JJ paused, letting his spoon fall into the bowl as he stood to his full height once more. He cradled the back of my neck and went in to place a kiss on my forehead. “Wouldn’t dream of it being any other way.”

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow.

[sadslay]

- ANGELS ⋆☆ 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

literally just fluff… maybe very light nsfw content

this has also been sitting in my drafts for like two months ps not proof read :/

you were her idea of an angel. ellie could never really pin point the moment she had fallen for you but she knew she fell hard. you had been friends for years so it could have been any number of things. she did always love that you found any excuse to be around her. weather that was offering to take over jessie’s patrols or always asking for lessons on how to play the guitar, but she also loved that when she spoke to you, she was the only person in the world. even if it was just to acknowledge something simple, your entire focus turned to her and she just about died every time you looked at her. maybe it was a series of these little moments that made ellie fall. but until she figured that out, ellie had to focus on not fucking up the friendship the pair of you had. if she messed this up, she’d be losing her best friend.

“els?” you whispered quietly, gently resting your hand on her knee causing ellie to pull her attention back to you, her eyes darting down to your hands as they rubbed her knee before running back up to your eyes. “you alright?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to be heard over the conversation being had around the room.

“yeah.” ellie breathed, giving you a reassuring smile as her shoulders relaxed before listening to the conversation, trying to pick up on the key points.

you pulled your hand away from her knee, leaving her wishing you hadn’t as you leant back into the couch beside her, your shoulder brushing up against hers as you rejoined the conversation.

“no! no way!” dina insisted, sitting on the edge of her chair. “i can’t believe you don’t remember!” she frowned, a smile still stuck on her face.

“i just thought she came in like everyone else!” he exclaimed, slumped in an arm chair as he let out a breathy laugh. “did you not?” he asked, turning his attention to you.

“no.” you grinned, holding back a laugh as jessie scoffed at your response. “tommy found me out by a creek maybe twenty miles from here.” you reminded him. “i was on the verge of death, tommy said.” you smiled, momentarily mocking tommy’s accent.

“thats right!” he almost shouted, the memory suddenly reappearing in his mind.

“see!” dina teased, finally relaxing as he sat back in her seat. “she came in a few weeks before ellie did.” she added.

you looked over to ellie to find a smile ghosting over her lips as she simply observed the conversation. you weren’t entirely sure how the story of your arrival had come into conversation, but you smiled at the memories of when you had first arrived in jackson, quickly being reminded of how you met ellie.

“thats right,” jessie repeated, the memories all becoming crystal clear. “you didn’t speak for like two weeks.” he bellowed.

“calm down, it was only the first few days.” you corrected, a laugh escaping your lips as you watched jessie relish in the memory of your arrival to jackson.

“you never told me that.” ellie noted, looking across to you as your laugh faded to a soft smile.

“yeah.” you shrugged. “i think you were the first person i talked to.”

there it is again. that warm feeling ellie always got after you did the simplest things. your comment made her smile before chatter filled the room again, a few of the other kids your age joining in on the conversation. ellie’s eyes didn’t pull away from yours as you watched the conversation, she was just so mesmerised by you. you were always so sweet and kind to everyone, always making people laugh and smile but out on patrols you could take down a clicker with nothing but your knife in the blink of an eye. the sudden touch of your hand on her thigh made ellie tense as her eye darted down to the contact. she felt like she had to pinch herself as she watched your hand rest on her thigh, your thumb gently running back and forth or creating small circles.

“you sure your alright?” you whispered into ellie’s ear, the warm breath against her ear sending goosebumps over her skin.

ellie looked up from your hand to meet your eyes, both of you slumped into the couch, your lips mere inches away from each other.

“yeah.” ellie repeated, her voice soft and gentle as she spoke to you. “just a little tired.”

“want me to walk you home?” you asked, your eyebrows slightly pinching together as you looked into ellie’s eyes. “this things kinda lame anyways.” you joked, a downturned smile creeping onto your lips.

ellie let out a breathy laugh, causing you to give the meat of her thigh quick squeeze before jumping up to your feet. “we’re headin’ off.” you announced, holding your hand in front of ellie.

“it’s barely even eight.” dina laughed, pulling away from a conversation she was having with another girl her age.

ellie took your hand, pulling herself up from the comfort of the couch to stand by your side.

“we’ve got patrols in the morning and i’m tired.” you explained, that sweet signature smile of yours never leaving your lips. “see you guys tomorrow.”

“bye!” dina smiled.

“see ya.” ellie spoke quietly, walking just a foot or two behind you as you began to pull her towards the front door. “you know i can walk myself home.” ellie teased as you pushed open the front door, reminding you both of the cool winter air.

“m’sure you could.” you smiled, skipping down the porch steps, never letting go of ellies hand. “but in all honesty i wanted to get outta there anyways. i am not having a repeat of what happened last time.” you giggled, soft white clouds escaping from your lips.

ellie laughed at the memory. in fact that was almost one of her favourite memories that she had of you. there had been a small get together similar to this one, taking place after one of the town’s parties, with just a few people your own age. after a few too many drinks, ellie found herself with your hands holding onto hers as you danced along to the music. it almost happened that night. ellie was going to tell you how she felt, she really was, but instead she ended up spending the night at your place, both of you exchanging your favourite stories, almost running out of breath from the uncontrollable laughter spewing from your lips.

“what was wrong with last time?” ellie asked, a little disappointed you wouldn’t want to repeat a night like that.

“nothing!” you exclaimed, squeezing ellie hand to reassure her that it wasn’t her that was the problem. “i’d happily relive that night a thousand times if i didn’t have to wake up with that hangover again.” you explained, letting out a soft laugh as you saw ellie’s shoulders relax.

“really?” she asked, scrunching up her face, almost not believing what she had heard.

“yeah, i guess.” you shrugged. “i wish life was like that all the time.” you scoffed as if it were obvious to ellie, the comment giving ellie that warm fuzzy feeling again. “don’t you?”

ellie hummed along in response as you promptly arrived at the door to the shed that had been converted into her home. without needing to ask, you joined ellie by walking inside watching her as she kicked off her boots. you pushed yourself up onto the kitchen bench as ellie got the pair of you another drink.

“hey, i was thinkin’ for patrols tomorrow, i might switch with jessie again.” you noted, taking the glass of water from ellies hand before taking a small sip before placing the glass down on the counter beside you.

“sure.” ellie nodded, finishing her glass of water before moving to stand next to you, leant up against the kitchen counter. “maybe we should just asked to get you and jessie permanently switched.” ellie teased.

“you’d get sick of me.” you giggled, looking down at her as she played with the tips of her fingers.

“i don’t think i’d ever get sick of you.” ellie laughed weakly, the remark catching your attention.

as the room fell silent ellie felt like an idiot for even saying that. but as you slightly turned your body towards her she reluctantly looked up at you, nervous as to how you might react. you had to admit in that very moment you had realised how you felt about ellie. how you had gotten jealous when she first started dating cat was always a little bit if a mystery towards you until dina had pointed it out. you liked your best friend. you had been denying it ever since dina brought it up but now, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

you inched yourself closer to ellie, your lips barely connecting with her in fear you might over step a boundary but when she kissed you back the kiss almost immediately deepened. without pulling away from your lips, ellie parted from the counter before planting herself between your legs, her hands gently resting on your knees as your hands cupped her cheeks. wanting her closer, your hands slid from her cheeks to around her neck, pulling her closer to you as her hands worked their way up to the tops of your thigh.

completely breathless you pulled away from ellie’s lips, resting your forehead against hers as you began to catch your breath. ellie could feel herself smiling as she tried to regulate her breathing.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long.” ellie breathed. a laugh erupted from your stomach causing ellie’s smile to widen. “shut up.” she groaned, her lips reconnecting with yours seconds laters.

you continued to let out soft giggles as ellie’s lips parted with yours before working their way down to your neck, peppering kisses the entire way down. your finger tips began to play with the shorter hairs on the back of her neck as your head tilted backwards making it a little easier for ellie to leave ticklish kisses along your jawline. after you were able to control your laughter you unwrapped your arms from ellies neck before your hands connected with her cheeks to pull her back up to your lips.

[uglypastels]

Ok ok gotta quickly talk about my fav bits from these 2 episodes

SPOILERS

LOOK, I DIDN'T WANT TO BE A HALFBLOOOOOD

Percy and Grover giving each other the ham/cheese from their sandwiches

The mrs Dodds gaslighting. Idk why i needed this to be included (more on this later)

Gabe. Why was Gabe so fucking funny in this 😭😭 like man is just a loser.

"Do you know why we come to this cabin every year" "because its next to the septic tanks' so its cheap" stop he's so unserious 😭

"Please" and the entirety of Sally talking to Gabe

I'm sure it will all get so much worse, but just the quips that were written and the pacing through the conversation of all 3 of them was really well written

Percy thinking that Sally was an atheist until she saw Jesus in her living room. (To paraphrase it)

"The important thing is not to panic" while being on the verge of a breakdown

"YOU DIDNT TELL HIM ABOUT X"

Sally making Grover swear to protect perce😭😭

YOU DROOL IN YOUR SLEEP

Basically, any time there was book accurate dialogue. It healed parts of me that I didn't even know were broken.

Mr D. I'm obsessed. The whole interaction between him and Percy. And then Mr D and Chiron 💖💖💖 (the poker later on. I love it)

The cabins and entire vibe of the camp. It feels so real i wanna go there so bad.

I could basically just list every single scene of this episode.

Luke 💖 that's it.

Mr D and Chiron forbidding Grover to tell Percy about his mom. So we got the Gaslight, now we jave Gatekeep. Where's the girlboss? Literally every other second.

Annabeth!! Annabeth's hat!! The hattttttt

"I'm fine thanks, but i appreciate you, you know, standing there silently" he's so fucking funny and it makes me want to scream. It's no original experience to have loved these books since the age of 12, but it doesnt make it any less personal. I love percy ok. And anyway not annabeth then still just standing there like 😐🤨

"When it's time, he'll be ready. I know it".... bro 😭😭

Clarisse's feral behaviour. I love her (i'll be dropping the L-bomb more and more as the show will go on. Let me be)

The bathroom scene. Obviously (i didnt even mention the episode titles yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

🔥? "I wouldn't"

Aaand cut to percy nearly setting the heph cabin on fire

"Is there a god of disppointment" "oizyz, but sje's a goddess, and her thing isnt really disappointment. It's more like failure" pls who is this kid. Fav character lol (idk maybe i should know who he is and im just stupid)

And then the look Luke gives him i'm crying

Oh my god how did not mention the blue food yet 😭😭😭😭🩵🩵🩵🩵

Percy PRAYING to Sally. And then "i'm Sally Jackson's son" aaaaaaaaaaaaah

Also, idk why but i loved Clarisse's reaction to when her spear broke. It felt so raw and it showed a glimpse of the side of her that she's clearly hiding from the world (not me already getting hyped for sea of monsters lmao)

Theres probably so much more i could add, or perhaps i should have just dropped a link to the episodes as it was all just so perfect.

Ohh oh oh i almost forgot the camp beads!!! Eeeek. So cute.

(Would have loved to have seen the grannies knitting socks of death, and the strawberry fields 🫢 but minor details)

[davekat-sucks]

Vriska is my favorite character in homestuck because she did nothing wrong. Jokes aside, the real reason is because I find her to be a pretty interesting character, and its not even because shes particularly complicated. Its the fact that she feels like a real troll. One of my biggest criticisms of Homestuck and Hussie himself is that he went to great lengths to create an entire fictional species with its own culture, way of reproduction, relationships, etc. All as a joke to make fun of shippers and then completely fucking abandon this golden ticket of world building. Literally all of the surviving trolls are human-lite at this point and most have been ret-conned to not even really liking the troll way of doing things anyway. All except Vriska. Shes the only one who felt in-between worlds. She was constantly on the verge of leaning one side or the other, especially because of the influences of John and Terezi, and even her own death. The "You dont have to be a good person to be a hero" is one of the best speeches of homestuck and a phenomenal characterization point for Vriska, so naturally in a later update, that same Vriska trash talked it because Hussie cant hold a serious idea for a fucking second.

It speaks to how Vriska has to adapt from being, as Dave so eloquently puts it "hell murder world" to playing nice and not murdering people on a whim like she was conditioned to, and would be expected of, on Alternia. Vriska and Eridan were really the only two highbloods that acted as highbloods were characterized to act. Feferi was a weirdo, Gamzee was high, and Equius was a pussy. Eridan was a side character turned brief villain who was then killed and never mentioned again. But then we had Vriska, who stuck around for awhile, and was relevant as a ghost then came back to life and we all had to deal with her. I feel like Vriska's journey of dealing with troll shit combined with human sensibilities should have been what all of them went through, but Karkat, Terezi and Kanaya really had no fucking problem going with the human ways of romance. Oh sure, Terezi tries to do a blackrom with John but he himself admits he doesnt really feel that way about her, since its not in humans to feel that way. The quadrants are dead, and its unlikely they'll make a return. Oh, sure there were spades in Vrissy's eyes when Tavros kissed her cheek (Or was it harry? I dont fucking care) but its not going to go anywhere.

Trolls as an alien species whose moral views are fucked up compared to humans, is way more interesting when it first started. It what makes them ALIENS. Foreign. That's what people loved about them. Now, people just make grey humans and slap troll horns on it and call it a day. Sure there is the whole rebellion this and that, but what about trolls that embrace being bad and awful people? Where are the gold diggers? Where are the cannibalists? What about a troll scientist that raises the dead and experiments body parts for their interest in science? Because in Alternia, that type of shit is seen as normal thing to do and justified. Vriska was interesting that she was like "yeah, I'm 8ad and DAMN proud!" I don't remember if she knew that Doc Scratch was the being that made trolls violent in nature. If she did, I would bet you she would be happy it happened because she wouldn't be where she was. And people who abandon that kind of nature don't deserve to be as awesome as her. Would have been interesting to see that kind of narrative of trolls that knowing their origins are fucked up, but damn proud. Whether they take time to change or don't as they use it to their advantage to keep rising up, would be interesting to explore in fanventures or fanfics. Part of me wants the latter since change is hard and I like my trolls being bad people. But that's just me. And if people say that the violent nature was only there because Doc Scratch made it so, doesn't that apply to quadrants? So there is no reason for anyone on Earth C to commit it. Not trolls, humans, or Carapacians. So Vrissy and Tavros should not be in one. I also mentioned before that Vrissy and Tavros are technically cousins in some way. So not only they are kismesis, but incest? So incest is fine on Earth C? Or only if one party is a troll? Earth C makes it vague what troll customs are allowed that isn't the caste system.

[look-how-they-massacred-them]

Preliminary Poll

Tony Stark

Submission reason:

There are a million things I could rant about here. The way he fucked up Peter's arc is especially atrocious. But SO MANY of these things have been discussed a million times over, so I want to talk about one specific thing I don't see people bring up as much: His heart. Tony Stark had a canon heart condition. He was literally on the verge of death at all times. He needed an implanted device (the arc reactor, that glowy circle thing) just to live. And sure, the device is some made-up sci-fi shit, but the condition was a real thing that real people can have. It's just shrapnel embedded in his chest so close to the vitals that it's just as dangerous to try removing than to leave it in, as simple as that. It's rare enough to have a super hero with real-world life-threatening health complications or disabilities, but for that hero to be MAINLINE? THE FACE OF A WHOLE MULTIBILLION DOLLAR FRANCHISE? That's unheard of. And it wasn't just background info, either; complications from his heart affected his life and the story again and again. The entire second movie was about him recklessly ticking off a bucket list because he was so sure he was about to die any day. The big personal payoff was finding an element that worked more efficiently in the arc reactor without leaking toxins into his body. It was fascinating, it was comparatively unique, it was representation for severe heart problems and subdermal medical devices, AND it had real, tangible effects on his motivations and story! But then the end of Iron Man 3 just healed it all off-screen, with as little fanfare as possible. It almost felt like a throwaway line. No catharsis, no lead-up, nothing. Just "oh by the way there's surgery for that now" zip done, major defining trait in the trash.

[insertsickusername13]

haven't reread this or edited it. idc. it's cute. enjoy.

word count: 3k

warnings: child abuse (rich's whole situation with his dad---it's not bad, and it's only mentioned in one paragraph, but it's there enough that it's worth mentioning)

Jake was standing in the center of the crowded hallway leaning heavily on his cane. Freshmen and seniors alike twisted and stumbled out of the way as they rushed down to lunch. His feet were shoulder width apart and his chin held high, much like a rock in the center of a rushing river.

Rich was hyper-aware of Jake from the second he slipped out of pre-calc, his attention (much like everyone else’s) immediately drawn to him. Tall. Confident. He stood like he belonged to the extent those who had to dodge out of his way were convinced they were the ones in the wrong, not him.

“And they say Christine’s dramatic,” Rich greeted. He sidestepped out of the current of students into the safety of Jake’s shadow. Jake’s gaze flickered from somewhere in the distance down to Rich and immediately his expression morphed from one of deep concentration to rosy excitement. Then, as if realizing himself, Jake pressed his lips together and snuffed out his happiness like a flame (not the first fire Jake had put out, both metaphorically and literally).

“We need to talk,” he said simply, tone barren and controlled. Rich masked the instinctive panic that promptly flooded the room at those words behind an amused quirked eyebrow.

“Intense opening line,” he commented, “8/10. Delivery could’ve been better.”

Jake’s purposeful intensity faltered just long enough for him to duck his head to hide his summertime smile. Rich, despite already sorting through all the worst-case scenarios—death, hatred, squips and secrets—did a small, mental fist pump. Having the newfound freedom to think his own thoughts without anyone there to criticize him besides his own subconscious meant spending an increasing amount of time dedicating himself to seeing Jake smile, watching him laugh, and feeling no shame at the way life seemed to return to every previously colorless corner of the room, the way his heart so hard he was convinced it was a destructive force rather than a romantic one.

“Shut up, I’m being serious.”

It’d been a minute, at least, and the halls were slowly emptying out of bystanders. Rich shifted back slightly, now free to be farther away from Jake without being trampled. Self-preservation kept him from creeping closer even as he shivered at the cold that slithered into the room at Jake’s distance.

Rich tried to keep his voice from trembling as he got out, “Okay, then. Talk to me.”

Jake shook his head and Rich frowned.

Rich felt dread, yes. Though it couldn’t have been past noon, a bluish-black dusk almost the same color as a bruise was swimming in his vision and dragging its sharp nails over every inch of exposed skin. Rich was restless in his desperation to get as far from this conversation as possible, a feeling so overwhelming he had to consciously talk himself down from an anxiety attack.

But where Rich’s anxiety manifested itself in his fidgeting fingers and tapping foot—something that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, even a relatively calm Rich was a jittery Rich—Jake looked like he’d just watched tragedy strike an entire nation.

“Not here,” he muttered, so quiet Rich was convinced he didn’t want him to hear. “…Library? Or—”

“Library works,” Rich smiled, “We can watch horny freshmen make out in the back while we… break up? Platonically? I don’t know what you’re planning on.”

Jake didn’t seem to find Rich’s facetiousness amusing. He looked down at his shoes, seemingly deeply entertained by the intricacies of his poorly tied laces.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his voice taking on a customer-service tone he adopted when he knew his natural voice would be on the verge of breaking. Rich couldn’t even find it in him to summon another shitty joke.

Jake led Rich to the library briskly, ignoring the cafeteria completely while Rich cast a longing glance back at his lunch table, where all his friends were laughing without a care in the world.

Jake was facing straight ahead and a step ahead of Rich—his face was out of view, but Rich could hear the faint sound of him reciting a speech to himself, rehearsing whatever he was going to say to Rich in a moment. Rich strained to hear every—any—word, but all he got were empty shells of sorry and we can fix it.

“Okay,” Jake said as he pulled out Rich’s chair and sat across from him, his cane leaning against the table. They were sat in the back of the library by a window. Jake dropped his backpack on the ground next to him and unzipped it, pulling out a binder Rich had never seen before. Strange, considering Rich had sat through every pre-test, stress-induced haze while Jake paced the living room, reciting definitions from flashcards and making Rich read aloud passages from binders that only slightly resembled the one on the table between them.

Rich let out a tiny sigh of relief that he hoped wasn’t noticeable. So it was just a test or presentation—something important enough to Jake’s final grade that he was freaking out enough that he’d totally missed the mini-mental breakdown he’d caused Rich.

Jake took a deep breath. Rich leaned back, prepared and patient to listen as Jake first apologized for bothering him, then made Rich quickly skim the source material before quizzing him on every possible question or logic fallacy that would most surely never show up on a test intended for high schoolers. Rich wasn’t bothered when Jake’s expression changed from nervous to one of pure determination and cynical analysis—he was well accustomed to this version of Jake, one who compartmentalized until all the dark and scary feelings were just files to be sorted rather than genuine emotions to be processed. He’d get through it eventually, but only after he’d solved whatever problem he was facing.

“Physics?” Rich guessed. Jake looked up from his papers, barely aware of what Rich had said, his focus completely and utterly on the task at hand.

“What?”

“Physics? Is that what we’re studying?”

Another moment of awkward silence before Jake finally seemed to understand.

“Oh,” he said, “No. No, worse. Here.”

He passed Rich a paper—a timeline, starting December 3rd. Rich didn’t get the chance to read a single word before Jake shoved another paper into his hand, this one a calendar for this month—April. Then a list. A picture. A color-coded set of notes. A survey? Rich scrambled to organize himself as Jake shoved yet another paper into his hand, this one a printed-out, annotated article from one sketchy health website or another.

“Do you want a chance to review the material before I start, or can I just jump right in?”

Rich looked up helplessly from the April calendar and squeaked, “Huh?”

Jake studied him for a moment, gaze a stormy mix of expectancy and determination. Then, having come to a conclusion Rich wasn’t privy to, he said, “We’re going to start on page one.”

Rich blinked at him.

“Timeline,” Jake clarified, “The first paper I handed to you.”

Rich struggled through the pile of papers until he pulled the timeline out. He displayed it to Jake proudly only to be met with a nervous smile that quickly faded into a grimace.

“Alright,” Jake said, his voice quivering in a similar fashion to a guitar string—musically, beautifully. He clenched his paper to the point it crinkled. “As you can see, it starts December 3rd, the day I first visited you in the hospital, and ends yesterday.”

Rich’s eyes flit from the beginning to the end of the timeline to confirm Jake’s words. He nodded, unsure as to why Jake’s tidbit about the hospital was necessary.

“So upon first contact post-fire, we ignored the topic of the fire and simply discussed the play and Jeremy, correct?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. And you didn’t apologize until the 8th, the next date marked on the timeline.”

Rich found the 8th, labeled ‘THE APOLOGY’ in all caps. Rich searched the words for a hidden meaning, praying it’d also be the birthday of some American president or treaty signing.

“I was, at first, resistant, but by the 11th I had come to forgive you. I visited again and we discussed possible steps forward.”

Unsurprisingly, the 11th was the next marked date. Rich swallowed a confused sob.

“Yeah, I know,” Rich said, the words tumbling out of his throat like his body was trying to purge him of a poison, “What the fuck?”

Jake continued without so much as looking up.

“On the 20th, you were released from the hospital. You, your brother, and I all spent Christmas at my apartment—purchased before the timeline began—over the 25th and into the 26th. Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes. Still kind of dark times, though, so if we could skip to—”

“You moved in on January 5th.”

Rich’s memory of that day lived serenely in the back of his mind to be summoned with perfect clarity whenever he felt unworthy or scared. It had been impulsive and dangerous—Rich had called Jake in the middle of the night, bruised and scared and exhausted. He’d come home from a six-hour shift on the verge of collapse, his burns itching and screaming, the lingering memory of the squip spouting deprecations at the way he winced with every step. He was unlucky enough to find his father still conscious in the living room, anger emanating off of him in waves of violence that manifested in thrown dishes and kicked over trashcans because where the fuck have you been?! You think you have any right to parade around with your rich friends while your family is stuck here?! You should’ve been—

The list was long. You should’ve been cleaning the dishes, making dinner, doing the laundry. He made it worse by crying.

He stayed kneeling in the kitchen long after his father passed out on the couch and, with shaking hands, because he didn’t want to cry anymore—he really, really didn’t want to cry—he called Jake.

Jake offered every cliche affirmation and more. You’re enough, you’re more than enough, I love you, you deserve better, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.

All the while, Jake was texting Michael. He still had his casts on—he couldn’t drive, and Michael told Rich later that he’d never seen someone manage to sound so panicked over text.

Less than twenty minutes later, Michael had snuck in the window. He cleaned the broken dishes, set the trashcan upright, and picked Rich up off the floor and dragged him kicking and screaming out of his father’s house.

“No, no, no, I can’t leave, he needs me, he needs me—”

Upon collapsing into Jake’s arms ten minutes later, Rich realized he needed to be loved a lot more than his dad needed him. He didn't go back.

“Yeah,” Rich breathed, “I remember.”

“January 15th: The first incident happens.”

“Incident?” Rich asked blankly, his mind still replaying the car ride from his father’s to Jake’s house.

“Yes. Any urges to kiss you or—or more, will be referred to using the term ‘incident,’ whereas more innocent urges—possibly wanting to go out on a date, or hold your hand, things along those lines—will be referred to using ‘episodes.’”

“Mhm,” Rich confirmed mindlessly. Jake’s words drifted up and around him much water falling off his face and body rather than sinking into his skin. It took Jake’s heavy gaze—staring expectantly, his lips parted, forming questions Rich couldn’t hear.

Wait. What?

“Go back,” Rich rushed out, back straightening. Hope hadn’t sunk in yet—he wasn’t quite there. Only confusion. “What the hell?”

Jake nodded once. He’d been expecting this reaction.

“Beginning January 7th, I developed a crush on you.”

Instead of turning to Jake, Rich turned to the papers for confirmation. He scoured the timeline for the words crush or love. All he got were incident #4 (#7, #9, #54, #78) and episode #7 (#15, #29, #156).

Shaky, he rushed to the next paper. A list of twenty entitled Modes for Moving On. The article from Healthline or Web MD: Psychologists Estimate Crushes become a True Love After Four Months.

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered, his voice so simply scared Rich was convinced he must be hiding from a monster under the bed or the boogyman—a childish fear. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You—” Rich started. He distantly heard Jake make a strangled sound but was too lost in flashes of the past three and a half months. Jake, flinching away when Rich got too close—Rich blaming it on the fire. Jake going out with three different girls in a week with no sign of stopping until Brooke slapped him and told him to stop playing with people’s feelings. The way he’d listened to Brooke but had been staring at Rich the whole time, his shoulders hunched over as he tried to curl in on himself.

“I… I don’t understand,” Rich whispered, though of course, by now, understanding was settling in his spine and gripping his nervous system like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. Jake liked him. Jake liked him.

“I’m trying to fix it. That’s the point. The article—”

Jake was in such a blind rush to show Rich that he practically fell from his chair, kicking it back with a ferocity as he stood and winced, his legs unprepared for the sudden weight on them.

“Fuck—the article, four months, right? And—” he hastily re-situated his chair and stumbled over to Rich, his hands clumsily shuffling through the papers until he managed to shove the Healthline/Web MD article in Rich’s face.

“See! Four months! I’ve still got two weeks, right? I’m not in love with you. I’ve got—I’ve got a plan. I looked up a bunch of stuff on the internet on how to move on, and it all told me to like, avoid you and stuff, but I can’t do that, so instead I’m ‘loving myself’ and ‘working through lingering feelings’—just a bunch of weird self-care stuff, but I’m fucking desperate, I’ll—”

He straightened suddenly, struck with the realization he’d just been so close to the source of all his problems. His expression singed and pride marred, he backed up a step, posture erect and his faked smile tight. He shook out his hands and turned to the sky for a quick moment. When he finally spoke again, it was in the same presenter’s tone he’d been offering since the beginning. In control; calm. His acting was worse than it had been in the play. Rich could hear every bit of panic running under his tone.

“Following the ten-step plan outlined on page seven, these feelings should be resolved by the 13th, with two days of cushion time in case one or two steps are thwarted or interfered with. I thought it right to make you aware of, of my intentions. I do think it would be best if I—”

Rich did the only thing he could think of to stop Jake from talking. He threw the nearest highlighter at Jake’s face.

For a moment afterward, there was only silence. Jake’s eyes were crossed to try and see where he’d been hit, right below the nose, and Rich was so mortified by his own unfounded actions to even begin to apologize.

“…You could’ve just said you don’t feel the same,” Jake finally murmured. He looked like he was physically fighting melancholia from his face and trying to stuff it into one of his file cabinets. He failed, and he had to turn away so Rich couldn’t see. He appeared to be blinking back tears.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking dramatic.”

Jake pouted. Rich laughed delightedly and got up to take Jake’s hands in his own. Jake stayed staring at the floor.

“Next time, just tell me how you’re feeling, yeah? Would’ve saved a lot of trees.”

Jake sniffled.

“I like you," Rich grinned, "If you somehow missed that. For a lot more than four months, too.”

Finally, Jake looked at Rich, his expression open and hopeful, a smile comparable to everything springtime and flowery blooming on his face.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

Unable to stop himself any longer, Rich got up on his tippy toes, smiling softly, in an attempt to kiss Jake for the first time. His crush liked him back—

Jake jerked away, eyes wide and mortified.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, that was so fucking embarrassing. Oh my god. I literally told you when I fell in love with you. Oh my god. We’re not even dating.”

Rich tried to suppress his smile—just for Jake’s dignity—but a small laugh escaped him before he could stop himself. Jake’s face went from a rosy red to the color of wine. Rich wanted to kiss it off him.

“No, stop it," Jake said, "don’t say anything. This didn’t happen. Oh my god. Get out! Now!”

“What?” Rich said, his amusement so complete in essence he was sure Jake could feel it like a slap across the face, “Why?”

“Because!!!” Jake screeched, “I need to destroy all the evidence! Then I’m just going to ask you out like a normal person, Jesus fuck. No. I’m just going to ask Chloe to kill me. She’ll be glad to. Goodbye.”

Jake spun back to the table and, without organizing them in the slightest (something so un-Jake-like Rich seriously considered the possibility that this whole thing had been orchestrated by a clone), shoved the papers back into his backpack, uncaring that half of them were ripped or crinkled. When he turned back to Rich, it was like nothing had ever happened. He looked like he had that morning: happy in a Jake way. Almost like a golden retriever, ready to do whatever necessary to make the people around him smile. In control. Suave and nonchalant; a flirt.

Jake conjured a look of confusion onto his face.

“Dude, what the fuck, you didn’t tell me you were French.”

“What?! Dude—” Rich giggled into his hand, so delighted by the entire affair he couldn’t even really be confused by Jake’s sudden assumption that Rich was French, of all things, “—I’m not fucking French.”

“Really?” He squinted at Rich, “Because I could’ve sworn Eiffel for you.”

He flashed Rich a grin and a peace sign before swooping down like he was going to kiss Rich. He stopped last second, less than an inch away, and carefully cupped Rich’s jaw. Rich watched as the confident exterior Jake had managed to summon last second slipped into a pure, childish excitement. His breath caught for a moment, so utterly elated at the idea that he was this close to kissing Rich—

Rich tried to close the gap. Jake’s fingers dug into Rich’s jaw, something that could’ve quite possibly been considered violent had it come from anyone else, but Jake seemed so set on making sure Rich wasn’t hurt that the show of strength came off as affectionate rather than scary. Rich frowned.

“When you tell people how we got together,” Jake seethed. Though his humor had darkened into a bad boy character that suspiciously resembled the love interest of a romance movie he and Jake had watched together a week ago, it was offset by the fact Rich had seen the utter awe on his face a moment earlier. “You tell them about this, yeah? That—” with his free hand, he motioned vaguely to the table behind them. “—that never happened. I fed you a nice pickup line and you liked it. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Rich said, his voice so quiet and seductive Jake was forced to pull away before he did something he’d regret.

Then, the second they arrived at their lunch table, “Jenna motherfucking Rolan, you will not believe what just happened—”

[cosmicjoke]

Okay, I’ve got to talk about this latest episode of “Vinland Saga”, because good lord, it was amazing.

I’ve said before that I felt the anime improves on the manga in a lot of small, but meaningful ways, and I felt this episode was a prime example of that.  I’ve noticed throughout this series that it’s done a lot to tone down the sillier, more comedic aspects of the manga which I always felt clashed in an unflattering way with the overall tone and seriousness of the story, and this episode did maybe the best job yet of cutting away that excess and ill-placed humor.  In the manga, after Thorfinn takes his beating in order to talk to Canute, we get this comedic sequence in which his face swells up to ridiculous proportions and everyone is sort of having a bit of a laugh at his expense, and I always felt it was incredibly jarring after the weighty grief of Arnhied’s death and all of the events that lead up to it.  And so I was overjoyed to see them cut that entire sequence from the anime, and replace it instead with the poignancy and emotional depth that the climax of those events deserved, especially Thorfinn asking Einar to come with him to create a land free of war and slavery, their vow to Arnheid to build a land she would have felt was more appealing than death.  In the manga, the comedic relief following this scene undercuts the moment terribly, but here they completely avoided that mistake, and that truly was a superior approach.

I also felt that Thorfinn’s interaction with Canute was better handled, and came across less absurd and unrealistic as it did in the manga.  It still seems a bit far-fetched to me that Canute would just give up all his plans to forcibly take farmland in order to fund his standing army in England, and then proceed to disband that army, but the way the anime handled it and presented it gave it an emotional impact and beauty that I didn’t feel from the manga, and so it lessened the issue I had with the idealism of it. 

I adore this anime specifically for the fact that it treats its subject matter so seriously and is incredible at conveying the poignancy and feeling of its story, and of Thorfinn’s journey in particular, seeing where he started, and where he’s ended up.  Seeing his growth as a character.  How could one not feel proud of him, and admire his strength and resolve?  I love that they aren’t diluting it with silly, misplaced comedy like the manga has had a tendency to do in later chapters, and I hope to continue to see this trend throughout the series.  I was dreading the moment with Throfinn’s face being swollen, because I remember how it took me out of the drama of the story in the manga.  So, once again, when they didn’t do it, and instead maintained the seriousness of feeling that this entire series has had, I was so, so happy.

Phenomenally done, truly.  I can’t praise this anime enough.  I know I’ve been ragging on it for making Thorfinn too tall, lol (which, incidentally, they did a better job this episode of showing his actual height), but truly that’s the most nitpicky of nitpicks.  Everything else is literally pitch perfect, and I think this episode encapsulated why.  It had me on the verge of tears a couple times. 

[drewsaturday]

this is gonna be long and probably not very coherent

the "i just don't understand why starving hallucinating teenage girls on the verge of death in the wilderness would devolve into ritualistic cannibalism so fast :///" ppl keep getting lumped in with those of us who just think they should've shown us the ritual leadup and it's so exhausting.

i know why they did it!! i completely understand why they did it!!

what i wanna know is how it specifically came about, not because i can't read between the lines but because i'm genuinely fascinated by how they decided the ritualistic components and came to terms with actual murder as a group.

i genuinely wanted to see who pushed back on that escalation because they can just wait out lottie's death or look for crystal's body, even if just for a last ditch effort at morality knowing fully well a ritual is the only way.

i wanted see the dread settle in the eyes of some and the humanity fade from the eyes of others as they stopped fighting and reached a consensus.

i wanted to know how they chose the queen card, even just showing van shuffling through the deck and finding it and tracing over its crossed out eyes, face mangled by the wilderness like hers, and Knowing this is it.

i wanted to see shauna clutching jackie's necklace thinking about the love and safety and betrayal it carries, knowing she's going to put it on the next yellowjacket whose death she'll be responsible for, blood across the chain.

at the very least give us a music montage of visuals if a discussion would have been treating us too much like toddlers or whatever. i do think there was a valuable element of "wait, are they actually doing this? no, they can't be--" that i felt until nat drew the queen card and confirmed it. a montage of visuals could have still allowed a similar effect, and it just felt like a missed opportunity to not give us more insight into the girls' psyche at that Specific moment.

idk! maybe it would have been redundant to show--we know they already used the cards for chore delegation, we can guess who would've been for/against it, we know they don't have all that much time TO discuss it, it sort of mirrors cannibalizing jackie since they didn't have a chat about that before digging into her face, groupthink is powerful, they're too exhausted to fight it, etc.

BUT i personally don't think those points outweigh the abruptness and missed opportunities considering the buildup is something so pivotal for the rest of the series. the cannibalistic descent felt earned, the ritual specifics did not.

and honestly i think some of my sentiments are justified considering there was a deleted scene of shauna telling lottie she'd do anything for her, which helps push the "let's sacrifice someone to the wilderness to save lottie" undertones of needing the ritual in addition to starvation. they really could've cut the shauna scissorhands dream and gave us this instead but nah.

AND... THEY LITERALLY DID FILM A DISCUSSION SCENE. the actors being interviewed explain sometimes things have to be cut for pacing and tone etc, but i also don't know if they're justifying it because if they criticize their crew they'll be in trouble or if they genuinely think it worked out for the best. i think either way, it does show even the writers and co were on the fence about whether to include it, so i don't think having it be such a divisive topic is entirely out of left fucking field. something feels missing because something is missing, and even if it was for the best... they cut it so late into the process of course it's going to be noticeable.

anyway. i truly do love this show. and i'm not mad that they didn't give us a discussion scene, i'm just getting tired of the fandom being so unwilling to listen to why some of us feel like there was a missed opportunity there. if so many of us are saying "hey this could've been done in a more satisfying way" i don't think there's a lack of media literacy there. you don't need to agree--obvs it was fine enough for a lot of fans--but some of us have our reasons for feeling the way we do.

ultimately i just think it would've added so much more weight to the ritual in 2x08 and the rituals onward if they'd done that, but since they didn't do it we'll never know if it would've been better or worse. all we know is that some people are so set on feeling high and mighty for Understanding The Scene that they're painting any valid criticisms as deranged media illiteracy.

[shyrule]

Okays wiat-

I’ve gotta write more- and I’ve had a Wip be a wip for a little too long…. I need more ideas.

So, essentially Wars is getting angst- something like absolute hell!!!! Like- it’s bad.

So far? The only thing I’ve got is separating him from the rest of the chain (kinda) and then….. that’s it-

I need more ideas because….. like….. I wanna write more ig? But I’m out of ideas entirely—

Here’s….. here’s what I have rn?

—

Normally traveling through the portals never seemed to be a problem, if anything Four seemed to take it the worst, Wild the best. Nothing had ever gone wrong, no split ups, no major problems. A few times they’d been put into monster camps or slightly tricky areas, but nothing that couldn’t be overcome.

Warriors was just getting his stuff fully in order, unfortunately for him directly in front of the portal. Without any warning, Wild, clumsily as ever, hit him while trying to regain balance. Although it seemed he managed to maintain himself, damage had already been done as Warriors himself fell through. Alone, and without warning.

Sometimes mistakes happen, but this wasn’t just sometime. The portals were always nauseating, but never- never was it this bad. Never was it painful.

Something was wrong.

Instantly he was overcome by a nauseating wave of sickness, the world spun as several colors whirled together overlapping and drowning one another out. He was whipped and thrown around, as if his being weight all but nothing. Then all at once a freezing chill swept over him. Slowly freezing the tips of his fingers until it felt numb, unable to move, then again, another change, his body melt- erupting in flames as he tried to scream but nothing left his nonexistent form, it was hot- too hot! It burned, getting worse and worse- and-

Nothing.

Silence for a few minutes until it hit, a sharp agonizing pain- as if being stabbed throughout the chest straight threw the heart. He tried to move, nothing, until suddenly it was all too much. He started gasping, panicking, slowly by surely he was losing himself- he couldn’t breathe. He tried, and tried- and tried! But nothing-

His eyes fluttered open as he finally was able to take a clear breath in, steadying his breath and trying to focus back into reality, he looked up.

Wait… something was wrong, his body was weightless and everything around him moved too fast, he wasn’t on his feet and as he finally looked down- it struck him, and he panicked.

The ground.

He was falling- thousands of feet in the air- too high- too fast

He was falling too fast, down, down

Down.

Down-

Down.

Completely panicking now, unable to connect his thoughts together, he slammed his eyes shut, held onto himself, braced for impact on whatever was going to become of him and-

Silence.

No pain, no-

Just silence, as just before hitting the ground.

It all faded into…

Darkness?

—

And like- the only thing I wrote for ideas was this—

“IDEA FOR A FIC -

Warriors going through absolute hell- like on the verge of death bleeding out, loss of loved ones, like- tortured- like terrible all together.

Ends with- a literal good nights sleep- like holy fuck yes.”

Helppp?????

- Z

I ONLY JUST READ THIS NOW BUT 👀👀👀👀

[emeraldenha]

☾ SUMMARY. the only thing Lee Heeseung was capable of doing was running away, but you always loved him, to the very bitter end.

☾ PAIRING. first love!heeseung x fem!reader

☾ GENRE. lovers to exes, angst

☾ W/C. +8k words

☾ WARNINGS. cursing, expressed desires of disappearing or running away, themes of unhealthy relationship dynamics, major character death, sad ending

☾ ADDITIONAL NOTE. this is an edited version of an already posted work of mine! there aren't any major differences regarding the plot, but if you ever want to return to the original post, you can access it here.

『THE TIME OF WINTER 』

You confessed to Heeseung on Valentine's Day.

And in your own opinion, you had never looked better in your entire life — or maybe you thought that because it was your first time spending more than an hour getting ready. Not a hair on your head was out of place and your lip gloss was shiner than the silver-chained necklace looped under the collar of your uniform.

You had a heart-shaped box of chocolates clutched to your chest with a crimson red rose taped to the top as you walked into school that morning. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you couldn’t tell if it was the nerves or the chilly weather that left you feeling lightheaded.

Overall, your appearance had earned you more compliments than you had gotten during the whole semester, considering that you’d normally never even bother to properly tuck in your shirt for starters. And it was all in the first fifteen minutes before you entered your classroom building, but that didn’t change the fact that you were a frazzled mess on the inside.

Upon first period, you settle down at your desk and scroll through your notifications as you wait for class to start.

“Hey!” Your friend sits in the unoccupied seat next to yours, taking a moment to talk to you before she has to sit in her assigned seat. She points to the chocolates on the edge of your desk. “What's with that? Planning on confessing to someone today?”

You slouch onto the back of your chair, bashfully crossing your arms over your chest. “Maybe.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” your friend gasps, bouncing her feet in excitement. “Who do you like?”

You immediately shake your head. “As if I’d tell you!”

“Hey, I tell you everything!” she disputes with her shoulders slumped in disappointment. “You can trust me.”

You slowly bite the inside of your cheek, checking to see if anyone was paying attention before muttering under your breath, “Lee Heeseung.”

You watch her eyes widen. “No way, Lee Heeseung?”

“Keep your voice down!”

“I was already whispering!”

You sigh at her response, realizing that you needed to stop overthinking everything. Your mind felt like it was processing a thousand thoughts at once, on the verge of exploding from stress.

“I can’t believe you’re into heartthrobs,” your friend says in astonishment. “Your little crush is literally the pride of our high school. Everyone’s in love with him.”

“I know.” You tightly purse your lips together, feeling more hopeless than before.

Heeseung was always an exceptional student. Ever since the day you had met him back in elementary school, he was already on another level.

You and Heeseung were the same age, but he was offered to skip a grade once you reached middle school, making him your upperclassman by a year.

Even when you were no longer able to share any classes with him, your infatuation only grew stronger. There was an unexplainably strong aura surrounding the prodigy.

He was popular and friendly and essentially good at everything. He didn’t even commit to clubs, because why would he? He couldn’t possibly stick to one when he had so many options.

Heeseung enjoyed the praise of being able to do anything he put his mind to. Of course, that didn’t satisfy the demand of students and teachers that wanted him to join all their school-related activities, but there was no stopping him. He hated the idea of having a limit, being tied down.

You were nowhere near close to his already unreachable status. You had a track record of joining lots of miscellaneous clubs in an attempt to find something you were good at, coming up short every time. Your grades were acceptable but nowhere near extraordinary. You were kind and amiable but ended up making more acquaintances than real friends. The stark contrast between you and him was extremely evident. You were afraid of him only seeing you as the random second year that had merely shared a small handful of conversations with him throughout the years.

In short, Lee Heeseung was way out of your league.

“Are the chocolates too cheesy?” You run a hand through the locks of your hair, an overwhelming amount of thoughts flooding back into your mind again. That was always a bad habit of yours. “There’s probably a lot of other girls planning on giving him chocolates, right? Shit, I should’ve been more creative. What if—”

“Woah, slow your roll, Y/n,” your friend interjects your rambling. “Just be yourself and tell him your feelings with confidence. If he turns you down, then it’s his loss.”

“His loss?” you repeat with a scoff. “Yeah right.”

You slowly peel the tape adhering the rose to the top lid of the box, crumbling the tape into a jagged ball when you’re done.

“I’m still ditching the chocolates,” you decide, shoving the sweets into her hands before she can say otherwise. “You can take them.”

“Whatever.” She shrugs, satisfied that at least you weren’t completely giving up. “I was hungry anyways.”

You gently set the rose directly in front of you, staring at it with a longing gaze. “I just hope this will be enough.”

Your friend frowns at your statement, racking her brain for a way to cheer you up.

“Oh, I have an idea!” She runs off to her desk and grabs a roll of purple ribbon from the front pocket of her school bag. Taking a pair of scissors from her pastel pencil pouch, she cuts a strip from the roll and hands it to you. “Here, you can tie this like a bow around the stem! It’ll be super cute.”

“You’re a genius! Purple’s his favorite color,” you gush, twirling the smooth ribbon around your fingers as you admire its simple yet stunning pattern. “Just like mine.”

You scrunch your nose in concentration, following your friend’s advice of tying a bow. You finish the job with the ends of the material prettily cascading from below the petals, the minor addition rather making all the difference.

“Thanks for the help.” You smile.

Your friend giggles. “Any time.”

You fix your hair in the small mirror attached to the inside of your locker, taking a couple deep breaths to mentally prepare yourself. When you’re done, you take a peek from behind the open door of said locker to look at Heeseung standing at the end of the hallway.

He was talking to a couple other third years from his last class of the day. He was as friendly and carefree as ever, constantly acting like the only thing weighing down on his shoulders were feathers.

After a minute or two of waiting, you watch Heeseung wave the other students goodbye as you see your opportunity lying right ahead.

‘You can do this,’ you mentally encourage yourself, speed-walking towards him as you grip onto the rose tied with purple ribbon behind your back.

You tap his shoulder. “Heeseung?”

The boy immediately turns around to face you, a smile plastered on his face. “Hey, Y/n! What’s up?”

You feel so nervous that you could throw up. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

You can tell he’s a bit confused as to why you approached him to tell him that. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Y/n.”

He strikes conversation for a bit longer, asking about your day or how your classes went. The small talk luckily makes you feel a lot more relaxed. Heeseung is always such a natural speaker. He cracks jokes with perfect timing and takes interest in everything you have to say. It’s as if he knows exactly what you want to hear.

Then, he asks why you came up to him, and it takes you a fleeting moment to gather the courage to speak again.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You reveal to him the rose, extending it towards him. “I like you, Lee Heeseung.”

You could practically hear a pin drop with the utter silence that emitted in those next ten seconds. He was standing as stiff as a board with a lost look on his face, completely spacing out.

“So…” You anxiously rock back and forth on the heels of your feet. “What's your answer?”

You bite your bottom lip in embarrassment. At this point, you were just waiting for him to reject you so you could flee the pitiful scene as soon as possible and sulk in the privacy of your own room.

Heeseung doesn’t know exactly what comes over him at that moment. The atmosphere is cold but his heart is warm and he’s feeling generous. An unknown force just makes him inclined to take the chance.

He had always noticed you, whether it be in long or short-lived snippets. He thought you were nice. Timid whenever he made his presence known, but now he could understand a little more as to why. However, there were other times. Other times when he’d catch a glimpse of you walking in the courtyard or passing his table in the cafeteria where he’d see you be more smiley and outgoing with your friends or classmates. You seemed too kindhearted to let down.

“Yes.” He accepts your rose, fiddling with the dethorned stem between his lean fingers. “My answer is yes.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

Heeseung nods, a soft smile playing on his peach colored lips. “Yeah, really.”

You grin from ear to ear and sheepishly stare down at the tile of the school hallway. You couldn’t believe this was happening. From your knowledge, Heeseung had never dated someone before. He would reject every girl that ever confessed to him and you had never caught him forming a crush on someone himself.

This felt like the impossible.

You’re still dazed with disbelief when he speaks again.

“Are you heading home?” he asks, tilting his head to the side in an endearing manner.

You nod rapidly, unable to wield the words from your mouth.

“Great.” He takes your hand in his without warning. “Let's go. I’ll walk you.”

You let him guide you with your interlocked fingers, making sure to sync your footsteps with his long strides.

When Heeseung returns home after making sure you arrive at your doorstep safely, he laughs to himself. He wasn’t expecting any of the events that day to take place, but a sense of accomplishment swells in his chest.

Heeseung wondered what it was like to genuinely be enticed in the thought of having it all. He was curious about the fulfilling life everyone else assumed to be his, and a girlfriend seemed to fit the bill perfectly.

『 THE TIME OF SPRING 』

When Heeseung disappeared for the first time, he was gone for two days.

No one made note of it, after all, it wasn’t the craziest thing for a teenage boy to be off the face of the earth for a single weekend.

That was until it happened again, and again, and again.

He always pretended like nothing happened when he’d return. It’d usually be on a Monday morning where he was bright and early to class, greeting you with a hug and kiss to the side of your head before he’d see you again at lunch.

That had become a normal routine for you as he had officially asked you to be his girlfriend a few weeks after Valentine’s Day, having properly taken you on a good amount of successful dates first until you were completely lovesick. The two of you had been going strong for over three months now.

It secretly ate you up inside every time he became abruptly unreachable. If you questioned him about where he was, what he did, why he didn’t respond to a single text message, he’d deflect.

Nobody at school saw a difference in the way he was acting except you. He was still riddled without a single flaw on the surface.

Then, he went missing for a week.

“You know,” you start. “Normally, people run away to escape their problems, not create them.”

He chuckles, distracted. “What's with the pout?”

He casually pecks your pursed lips in an attempt to lighten the sour mood.

It was another Monday morning, and instead of wondering about his whereabouts for a solid two days, those two days were stretched into seven.

“Where did you even go?” you ask, leaning against the wall at the back of the school where you’d frequently go to be alone with Heeseung before class.

“Just somewhere.” He sighs, dodging the question.

“Heeseung.” You give him a blank look.

“Y/n,” he mocks, understanding the gravity of the situation but choosing to ignore it.

“I’m worried about you,” you say honestly as you release a deep breath. “It was a whole week this time. A week! Don’t you know how I feel when you leave me out in the dark like this? Useless, fucking useless.”

“I know.” He heaves another sigh upon seeing your dejected expression. “I’m sorry.”

“You always say you’re sorry, but what does that change?”

Heeseung doesn’t have an answer to that.

“Are you ever going to tell me? Do you even plan to?”

“Y/n,” he says your name again, this time with a more serious tone. He pulls you into his arms for a hug and doesn’t budge as he silently holds you in that position for minutes later. “I’ll tell you the full story one day, I promise. It just can’t be now.”

“Why can’t it be now?” you mummer into the sweater of his uniform, the aroma of his calming scent almost luring you to sleep.

“It just can’t.”

You cage him back into the hug when you feel his arms loosening around your waist, hoping that if you hold on long enough, he’ll stay.

“I’ve had something on my conscience lately,” he says, deciding to open up to you a little bit out of guilt. “Do you want me to tell you?”

It's bait. 

You know that if you let him say it, there’s something you owe him in return. You know that when this conversation is over, he’s expecting no more questions about the matter until he’s ready to mention it again himself.

'It’s bait,’ you remind yourself. 'But it’s better than nothing.’

You slowly back away from his warm embrace in order to meet his eyes. “Tell me all about it.”

“I’m thinking about taking a gap year after I graduate.” He ultimately reveals it to you.

“You don’t want to go to college?” you ask, suddenly taken aback. “But why? With your grades and your potential, I’m sure there’s plenty of colleges that want you to apply.”

“It's not like that’s the problem. I know I can get accepted into a good college,” he says. “I just don’t want to make all these important life decisions just yet, you know?”

You could wrap your head around that. Something you had learned about Heeseung without him directly telling you was that he loved praise but hated responsibility. He was naturally gifted with talent, which was why he lacked the dedication and drive to make anything of it.

You wished he could understand how lucky he was, but you’d also try to see it from his perspective. There must’ve been so much pressure and expectations for him that you’d never had to experience in your entire life.

He chose not to confide in you about it, but he didn’t have to. You could tell that he was struggling deep down inside.

Heeseung liked being himself, and being himself was being free.

“I understand.” You nod reassuringly. “You need some time to figure things out. Do what’s best for you, as long as you know that it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“Thank you.” An infectious grin creeps onto Heeseung's lips, splitting across his face so widely that you think it’ll break into halves. He cups the side of your jaw, patiently kissing every inch of your face. “You’re everything. You’re my everything.”

You could cry. Never in a million years would you think your long-term crush would call you his everything.

“We should get going.” Heeseung laces his fingers with yours. “Classes will be starting soon.”

He moves to head inside but stops when he feels your hand tugging him back.

“Can I say something first?” you ask impulsively, regret already gnawing on your impromptu confidence.

“Sure, you can tell me anything.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. “I think I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

You feel physically sick at your own words.

‘It’s too soon. It's only been a few months. He's going to think I’m weird and never talk to me again. Gosh, I’m such an idiot!’

Heeseung's grip on your hand tightens, his doe eyes twinkling like a constellation of brightly shining stars.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

You look at him in shock. “You shouldn’t feel obligated to say it back just because I said it first.”

“I know,” he boasts with confidence. “I’m saying it because I want to.”

You gulp at his bold reply. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.” He nods. “I don’t lie.”

“And you’re one hundred percent sure?”

“I’m one hundred percent sure.”

“I’m warning you.” With your shaky breath evident, you fail to hold back the stripes of tears streaming down your face. “My heart is fragile, please don’t break it.”

Heeseung plants one last tender kiss on your cheek where the tears stain. “I would never.”

『 THE TIME OF SUMMER 』

Upon graduation, you didn’t see your boyfriend for an entire month and a half.

You weren’t very surprised, but deep down you were still disappointed that he left without a word.

The beginning of your summer was incredibly boring and lonely without Heeseung. Granted, you hadn’t even been in a relationship long enough with him to know what a summer with him was like, but that only made you want to know more.

Your friend called you every once in a while to hang out. You’d go out to eat, shop at the mall, or just take a simple drive around town. Each time, she’d ask about how Heeseung was doing. You’d tell her that he was doing fine even though you weren’t really sure. She was so excited and happy for you, teasing you at every chance she’d get.

That's why it hurt to lie to her. Now that the school year was over, no student had much of a clue that he was missing. Everyone had just assumed that he was flourishing too high to stay behind, that he was off doing bigger and better things.

And it bothered you.

He hadn’t contacted you in the time he was gone, not even once. You had no idea where he was or what he was doing. You hated this feeling. You felt so co-dependent and clingy.

He had promised not to break your heart, and it saddened you to feel it cracking. It made you want to scream at him.

You spent your free time picturing how an argument would play out in your head. You would articulate what words you’d say, what phrases would best convey your emotions, the perfect moment to insert a cuss word for impact. You could hear his voice in the detail of your fabricated conversations every time you were left alone in silence. To put it shortly, your thoughts were filled with Heeseung.

Heeseung, Heeseung, Heeseung.

The moment he crawled through your open bedroom window in the middle of the night, you wondered how you’d bring it up.

Then, the first thing he says is, “If you’ve been leaving your window open for me, just unlock it next time instead. I can’t have my girlfriend getting cold.”

He passes you a blanket folded over the desk chair in the corner of your room, and you know right from his sweet gesture that it’s game over.

In the end, you say none of the things you wanted to tell him. You’re just happy to see him again.

Happy to see him at all.

You find yourself resting your head on his chest around twenty minutes later, laying beside him on your bed as a movie plays from your laptop.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

Heeseung readjusts his arm wrapped around your shoulder, using the hand on his other arm to tilt your chin up. You’re forced to temporarily look away from the movie for a moment as he pulls you into a kiss, though you have absolutely no complaints.

Screw the movie.

Heeseung deepens the captivating kiss, his lips gradually yearning more and more for yours. You can feel yourself getting lost in his graceful, almost ghostly touch. It's an indescribable overload of emotions to have him so physically close when his heart feels so out of reach, like a false paradise.

Eventually breaking the kiss, Heeseung tugs you back into his chest and focuses again on the screen of your laptop. 

“Missed you too.”

'Then you should’ve come back sooner,’ you think to yourself, biting back your tongue.

You’re incapable of concentrating back on the movie, your mind still occupied by the boy of your affections.

“You’re staring,” Heeseung teases without moving a muscle.

You huff, sitting up to close your laptop shut, abruptly cutting off the audio of whatever scene was playing. You couldn’t care less about it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Your boyfriend sits up as well, noticing the change of atmosphere.

“Are we still going to pretend that this is normal?” you say as you lazily play with your fingers. “You’ve been gone for over a month. You know how much I worry when you just disappear into thin air like that. Was it really too difficult to even say goodbye?”

“Y/n, we’ve talked about this.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, aggravated. “One day I’ll explain it to you and you’ll understand. One day, I promise you.”

You’re dissatisfied with his answer. You feel strung along, nothing more to him than a meaningless girl he can have at his beck and call whenever he wants, yet you still find yourself afraid to act on the argument you had previously mapped out in the back of your mind.

“And besides, I don’t need to say goodbye,” he adds, hoping to soften the mood. “Why would I when I’ll always return to you?”

“It’s just,” you pause for a moment, making an effort to hold back the tears swelling in your eyes, but alas, you ultimately fail. “I’ve been trying so hard to wait for you to be honest with me, for you to be as transparent as I’ve been, or for you to stop leaving. It hurts so fucking badly, Hee.”

“I know and I’m sorry.” Heeseung pats your head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I hate making you cry.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to.”

Your tears continue to unabashedly gleam down the sides of your cheeks and Heeseung wordlessly begins to wipe them away with his thumb.

“Anything you want to talk about? Anything interesting that happened today before you got here?” you ask a slew of questions, seeking a new line of conversation.

He ponders for a handful of seconds. “I visited home for a bit.”

You weren’t expecting that. You thought he’d ramble over something random or minuscule to mindlessly entertain you both, but maybe his mind couldn’t detach itself from the whole emotional state the two of you were left in.

“How’d that go?”

“My parents practically disowned me when I came back earlier this morning.” He lets out a low laugh, leaning into the swamp of your pillows. “They’re still mad at me for running away or whatever. They also can’t seem to let go of my decision to take a gap year and even said that I’m not welcome back at home anymore, not that I wanted to go back anyways.”

You frown. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He immediately looks ready to retract his statement at the unconvinced expression on your face. “I mean, it’s not the most ideal situation, but they’ve made their decision and I’ve made mine. I won’t ever forgive them. It’s simple, really.”

“Don’t say that. They probably were coming from a place of concern. Didn’t you mention one time that you used to have a good relationship with your parents?”

“They can go to hell for all I care.”

“But…” You contemplate pushing the topic, but do so anyway. “Don’t you want them to be proud of you?”

“I don’t need their approval. At least you’re proud of me, aren’t you?”

You nod silently.

Heeseung’s eyes light up at this. “Then that’s all I need.”

Silence falls.

“I’m leaving again tomorrow,” Heeseung says after a bit of hesitation. “Wanna come with?”

Your head snaps in his direction. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “What of it?”

A frown inevitably crosses your face. “Why can’t you stay longer?”

“Honestly, it’d be hard for me to. You’re the only reason I decided to come back in the first place,” he replies with a charming smile.

You hate it when he smiles.

It was always distracting and his teeth were blinding white like angel wings. It felt like a trap, some sort of deception.

You observe the way Heeseung’s line of sight shifts to your bedroom window, where he originally entered from. When the both of you started dating all those months ago, Heeseung would wait for you by the front door, more often than not with your parents uncomfortably present, and would take you out on a date.

Though ever since Heeseung started disappearing every now and then, your parents didn’t quite view him as the best influence. They saw how empty of a shell you quickly became whenever he’d leave for unknown amounts of time and tried to guide you with their own perspectives, but you refused to listen.

That’s how Heeseung became familiar with climbing two stories to your bedroom window, and the two of you have yet to be caught.

“Come on, Y/n.” He gets off your bed while lending his hand out to you. “Run away with me.”

You take his hand and pull yourself up, telling him in a faint voice, “Okay.”

Because you loved Lee Heeseung like the world was ending, and that would never change.

The two of you end up stargazing.

It's past midnight as his car pulls into the parking lot of a small park you had never been to before. It was almost a two hour drive from your house, the area unrecognizable to you entirely.

Once you get out of the car, Heeseung leads you towards a small hill beyond the playground structure and picnic tables.

“The view’s amazing,” you comment. The gradient of the sky and silhouette of the cities fill your line of vision. “Do you come here often?”

“I’ve only been here once,” he admits. “But I thought you might like it. It’s really quiet and secluded, don’t you think? My mind feels at peace here, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

“Like the rest of the world doesn’t exist,” you repeat to yourself, following Heeseung to the top of the hill. “I like that.”

He hums in response. “Knew you would.”

You talk to Heeseung for hours upon hours, conversing about everything and anything, but at the same time, nothing at all.

At some point, he takes out a pen stashed from inside his jacket pocket and begins drawing on your arm down to the back of your hand. It was a common quirk of his you remembered from your first few weeks of dating. He would visit your class some days just to talk and doodle simple objects or abstract lines on your skin.

“When did you first realize you had a crush on me?” Heeseung asks curiously, concentrating on the art he was now forming by your knuckles.

“It was back in middle school.” The corners of your mouth tug upward at the memory. You look up at the sky, watching the faint light peek from the clouds, early morning approaching. There was something so cathartic about all the beautiful lines of colors stringing from above you. “We were in the same class and you handed me your colored pencils when I forgot mine at home. You were kind and sweet and comfortable to be around. It was hard not to like you. Everybody did. When I heard you were skipping a grade, I was so sad because that meant we’d never have classes together again.”

“So, what I got from that was you liked me because I was perfect?”

“In the beginning, I did.” You don’t deny it. “But as we started dating, I just wanted to love you for you. Not Lee Heeseung or anything, just you.”

“That's good,” he mumbles more to himself than to you. “Perfect Heeseung sucks.”

“What do you mean? Is being perfect really all that bad?” you joke lightheartedly.

“To me it is.”

“Why?”

“I hated my life here… when I was perfect,” Heeseung says, clicking his pen and tucking it away as he finishes his drawing. He changes his sitting position on the grass of the hill, bringing his knees to his chest.

Heeseung hates his life in the present too, but he couldn’t tell you that.

You look at him quizzically. “What was wrong with your life before?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Nothing?”

There's a silence that fills the air.

“Technically, I had everything that a guy could ever want,” Heeseung breathes out, looking ahead as he could see the sun beginning to rise. “And somehow, that has and will never be enough.”

You included.

『 THE TIME OF FALL 』

Heeseung was comparable to perfume, something that daintily lingers to then fade after a day’s wear.

The moment he had taken you home when the sunrise turned to sunset, you barely heard from him for another two months.

It was already your last year of high school, and people were starting to grow worried about you. It was like all the life and energy you once had was drained to nothing, leaving you in the hollow shell of your body. Your friend often expressed her constant concerns for your state but you brushed them all off, ignoring her comments that it looked like you never got sleep or hadn’t been eating properly.

You constantly felt on edge. 

And god, if someone had even mentioned Heeseung's name in front of you…

You wondered if it was worth it to love Heeseung so badly that it’d affect you like this. It wasn’t. You knew that deep down.

Watching him leave always hurt, but in all honesty, you were hurting yourself more by choosing to still love him. To still care.

But if you chose to stop loving him for his true self, then who would? 

Who else would be able to understand that he was misunderstood? That he was handed everything in life he didn’t ask for and was miserably searching for a place he could find happiness in.

You had told yourself to support him, even if it was painful to acknowledge that the place he was seeking was far away from you. Though now you were beginning to think it’d be better to let him go, cut the string tethering him to his hometown of misguidance and discontentment.

Within the two months of fall, he had contacted you twice. You remember being so shocked when you saw his name and picture flash on your phone screen, in disbelief that he actually called.

However, both those phone calls ended in arguments.

It was a tiring pattern. A vicious cycle.

The two of you were like parents who would always argue about essentially the same thing, or argue just to argue.

You used to fantasize about being with Heeseung, and now, you fantasize about your life if he was a stranger. You just wanted to think about what was best for your life and not his for once.

When he actually managed to visit you one night, he stopped to find you at your bedroom window first before leading you to the passenger seat of his car.

In a similar fashion to the phone calls you shared with him, civil conversation doesn’t last long before a dispute breaks out. The car never even moved.

“You can’t just keep disappearing whenever you want like it doesn’t matter,” you repeat yourself, like you always do with your feelings regarding Heeseung. “You don’t realize how much you’re damaging yourself and the people around you.”

Heeseung’s facial expression doesn’t change. “Then come with me.”

“Do you have any sense of awareness for someone other than yourself?” You continue to stare at him with disbelief. “I have a life, you know? So many things I want to do, so many dreams I want to fulfill. I can’t just drop that all to be with you.”

Heeseung's jaw clenches out of anger. “Do you not love me enough? Trust me enough? Is that it?”

“I should be asking you that when you’re the one keeping secrets and leaving me in the dust.” You match his aggravated tone. “What's the point of having a boyfriend that can only play the part five times a year. If it’s so hard for you to stay, then don’t come back at all!”

“Oh, stop being dramatic.” He rolls his eyes.

You feel all your bottled and unspoken emotions building into an outburst. You were fuming, and you craved a chance to finally talk back against everything you’ve dealt with, no matter how much you tried to make excuses for his behavior.

You didn’t care if you had to lie. You didn’t care if you had to pretend that you never saw where he was coming from in order to hit him where it hurts. You just wanted to put an end to things.

You wanted to let go.

“Don’t you want to do something besides running away for once? You’re so smart and talented yet you’re throwing that all away for nothing—”

“Shut up, Y/n!”

“No, because you’re so fucking careless!” you cry out.

“So what?” he yells with a booming volume to his scratchy voice. “Since when did you get to fucking dictate my life, huh? Gosh, you sound just like my parents. fucking hell.”

“You’re so ungrateful. Of course you’d say that I’m trying to dictate your life after you just did that exact thing. You can’t keep living like this forever, Heeseung,” you bite back in response. “And stop trying to project your anger onto your family! I can put two and two together, you know? There’s no way you’ve been able to sustain yourself all this time unless your parents were still giving you access to your credit cards. Can’t you see that you’re pushing away the people who simply care and want to help you? Even when you push them away?”

He doesn’t deny your accusations over the whole credit card ordeal, further confirming it in your mind.

“I don’t want anyone’s help! Everyone always wants something from me, even you. I used to convince myself that I could do it, but I’m tired of being put in this box that everyone’s constantly forcing me into. It’s so exhausting.”

“I’ve never forced anything out of you! No one did.”

“That's a lie.” Heeseung snaps.

You mockingly tilt your head. “So what if it is? Everything was handed to you because you were born a prodigy and look where you are now.”

You loathe your shitty attitude, aware that you’re just saying what you know will provoke him, but your anger prevails.

“And what makes you any better? Talking about your dreams, the kind of life you want to live.” His voice is low and sharp like a knife, which makes his words leave a bigger wound. “None of that matters when you’re not fucking good at anything. The only reason I started dating you in the first place was because you wanted me and people were expecting me to get a girlfriend.”

There was nothing that could’ve prepared you to hear those words. You knew when you originally confessed to him that he couldn’t have possibly liked you as much as you did him, but the blatant truth stung.

“Sorry, that was too harsh.”

A bitter laugh escapes your throat. “You think?”

There’s an uncomfortably long pause.

“You should go.” He gulps, unlocking the car for you to leave. You listen, slowly opening the door on your side and stepping out.

You almost close it shut but hesitate.

“Heeseung?” you weakly call out his name.

He turns to look at you. “What?”

“Did you ever truly love me?” You sniffle, unable to meet his eyes.

You regret the question before you ask it, fearing that you’d be better off not knowing the answer.

“To be honest, Y/n,” he starts, giving you an apologetic smile. “I’m not even sure if I’m capable of understanding what love is.”

Heeseung officially breaks up with you the next day.

He doesn’t have the courage to say it to your face, so he writes you a farewell note and slips it into the crack of your front door. It’s written on the fancy notepad paper he carried around in his bag at all times; you can recognize the dark blue ink of the pen he used to draw on the back of your hand with.

And even though you were preparing yourself for the day when one of you would finally be able to let go, it doesn’t make any bit of the process easier.

You cry silently that day, alone and with the autumn leaves crumbling to the ground, just like your broken heart.

『 THE TIME OF WINTER, AGAIN 』

Heeseung didn’t come back to town until the month of February.

He spent a lot of time replaying the last conversation he shared with you. It echoed like your voice was a recording that looped through a cave of his thoughts.

Life was so empty. He had truly let go of everything he once had, and you were the last thing he let slip away.

He continued on with his normal routine for countless weeks, though he found it becoming increasingly more difficult with you weighing on his mind. It took some time and lots of contemplation, but he had finally considered getting his life together.

He had hope. He had hope that maybe there really was a way to live the life he wanted without the irrational and collateral damage. He started building the excitement of not only making himself good enough for the you he had broken but also himself.

For once, he finally worked his way up instead of expecting the world to work around him.

There was so much he now wanted to do. He wanted to explore his interests and passions, figure out what he loves versus what he just happens to be good at. He had gotten a job while he was out of town as a waiter to gain experience and earn some money of his own instead of leeching onto his worried parents.

Speaking of that, his relationship with his parents was far from where it used to be, but they were slowly repairing it little by little. There were some long phone calls of constant crying and arguing before they truly solved the myriad of issues brewing between them.

He thought about repairing his relationship with you as well by asking for your forgiveness, to explain from the beginning and maybe beg for a second chance.

It was then he realized that he could never will himself into actually doing that. You deserved more than a belated apology, you deserve more than anything he himself could offer in compensation to your pain.

It wasn’t fair to lead you on. It wasn’t fair to keep you around because he used your sympathy to his benefit, or because he knew all those times that you wouldn’t abandon him even when he did it to you. Over and over again.

You probably hated him. He wouldn’t blame you for it.

He parks his car on the road outside your house, mentally preparing himself to see you again. It was the first place he wanted to visit upon his return. 

“Don’t be a coward,” he exhales, still gripping the sides of his steering wheel. “Just say what you want to say and know your boundaries.”

When he exits his car and walks through your front yard, he almost feels sick to his stomach with nerves. Before he can hesitate, he whispers another few words of encouragement to himself and rings the doorbell.

Your mother opens the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Y/l/n,” Heeseung awkwardly greets her. He had only met your mother a handful of times, and that would be in similar moments to this one where his shoes would brush against the doormat as he’d normally wait for you to come downstairs. That was before he resorted to sneaking through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. “May I come in to see Y/n?”

She gives him an empty look. “How long have you been back?”

Heeseung gulps, fully aware that he didn’t have the best reputation in your parent’s eyes. “Since this morning.”

“So you haven’t heard the news, have you?” she asks, keeping calm as she clarifies the situation.

“What news?” Heeseung asks worriedly, eyebrows stitched together in confusion.

“While you were gone, Y/n got into a car accident with one of her friends.”

Heeseung's world shatters.

“What?”

“They were both extremely drunk and her friend ran a red light while driving at full speed.”

“Is she okay? Is she in the hospital? Which one? I’ll go there right now—”

“She died on impact,” your mother interrupts him, losing all her patience as she was faced with the boy that broke her daughter’s heart to pieces. “Her funeral was last month, so please, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, mrs. l/y/n,” he stutters, bowing respectfully.

“Thank you.” She halfheartedly accepts his condolences, going to close the door with one final nod.

“Wait,” he exclaims last minute, his hand instinctively coming up to signal her to stop. “Can you tell me where… where I can visit her grave? Please, I just want to talk to her one last time, even if it has to be in this way.”

Your mother inhales a sharp breath at his vulnerable and desperate plea, telling him to wait for a moment so she can hand him a note of the location.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Heeseung sits down in front of your grave.

Everything about this feels so surreal. He wants to imagine that this is all a dream — or rather nightmare — that can be resolved with one good nap and the hope that you’re still out there somewhere in the world instead of being buried six feet under.

He takes his time gathering his thoughts, “I don't really know what to say. I came to your house today expecting to get some sort of closure, or for you to kick me out by slamming the door on my face. Either would’ve been understandable.”

Heeseung curls himself into a ball, the same way he did that time he took you to the park to go stargazing, chin resting atop his knees.

“I didn’t know you drank alcohol. Was it because of me? Shit, never mind, let’s not go down that road or else it will haunt me at night,” he quickly begins to ramble. “But anyways, I never got to give you the explanation I said I would one day. That's something I wanted to talk to you about, since I figured I at least owed you that one. I should come back tomorrow and tell you the full story,” he says, giving himself a reason to come and see you again. Plus, the sudden news had drained him of any energy to form the coherent thoughts he intended on expressing to you. “Like I promised.”

He kept so many secrets and fed you with so many lies. He wishes he could redo it all, or better yet, he wishes the two of you had never met from the start. Your life could’ve been so much better if he weren’t in it.

“I missed you a lot after we broke up, which is ironic considering I had no right to be, not after everything I said and did to you. I couldn’t help it though; I miss seeing you happy. I remember thinking about how nice and pretty you seemed on our first date, but it was around our second or third that I saw how truly beautiful you were. That was when you started to become more comfortable around me. Your eyes were glimmering like city lights and your lips tasted like coconut lip gloss. I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun with someone in my life; it was kind of scary.” Heeseung laughs but it’s bittersweet. “You gave your heart to me so easily and without hesitation. You really shouldn’t have. I didn’t earn it. It was so shitty of me that I couldn’t appreciate the time we spent together. We were in a relationship for how long? Eight or nine months? It feels like it flashed by in seconds.”

He can visualize your face as if he saw it yesterday, and now he wonders if it’s an image he’ll never be able to forget.

“I’m so sorry.” He breaks out into a sob, his hands coming up to cover the entirety of his face. “What about all your plans?” he softly continues, grief-stricken. “You were supposed to graduate high school, find your dreams, meet someone who would… who would treat you right. You had a future ahead of you.”

Heeseung knew how much he cared about you underneath all the bullshit he covered it with. Sure, his feelings for you weren’t quite the same as your feelings for him, but there was a sense of solace he found in you.

Every time he vanished into his little getaways, you were the last person he saw when he left and the first he saw when he returned.

You were the anchor that grounded him to reality.

Guilt consumes him in this very moment. It was as if this was the world’s punishment to make him realize the consequences of his actions.

Was this what you feared? The endless nightmare of waiting for someone to come back, not knowing the day they’d stop returning.

Maybe if he had listened to you, maybe if he had stayed…

Maybe if he had reciprocated the love you had given him, you would still be here.

“I can’t just lose you.” Tears cloud Heeseung's vision as he removes his hands from his damp cheeks to clutch at the dead grass. He could sense all his strength and composure breaking down bit by bit when he screeched out quiet strains of pain. “Why did I have to lie to you? Why did I have to hurt you? Why did I have to always be the one that fucks up our relationship?”

His body feels like it’s on fire, and his heart burns to ash.

“Why did this have to happen? You didn’t deserve to die.”

Just when he had finally felt that his life was put together, he was too late to even witness you living yours one last time.

Heeseung's shaky hands find their way to his bag, grabbing the delicate object sticking out from the side pocket. He had put the straightforward gift together right before he visited your house, and now that you’re gone, the memory behind it breaks him even more.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/n,” he whispers, setting a single rose on your gravestone. Wrapped around the stem was a bow of pretty purple ribbon. “I want to be the one who confesses to you like this, even if I still don’t know what it means to love the way you loved me.”

Lee Heeseung never knew how to cherish anything in his life, but he wished he had tried with you.

masterlist

YOU CAME AND WENT, JUST LIKE THE SEASONS.

[allthislove]

It really sucks how suddenly I'll get a flashback of my dad, like, when I was a kid or even a few years ago when he was healthy and vibrant, and then suddenly I'll think of him sick, on his last full day alive, laying in a hospital bed. Idk.

I just want to hold onto him. There's so many sweet moments from when he was in the hospital, but I don't want to depress everyone so I don't talk about it. Like, near the end, his lungs collapsed and I think he thought he was going to die right before they rushed in to do emergency surgery, so he kept waving me over. He couldn't talk by then (well. He could talk a little, but his voice was gone and his throat was raw, plus he had the thing in his neck to help him breathe.). I couldn't tell what he wanted, but I went to his side because I knew the medical teams would soon rush me out of the room. He grabbed my arm and kept pulling, re-gripping, pulling. His hand was moving up my forearm, and I figured he wanted me to lean down. And do you know what he did? He kissed my cheek. In his darkest hour, my daddy wanted to kiss me goodbye.

He didn't die, that day. I think he lived for another week or so? But I am so... impressed with him, that he was literally on the verge of death, getting an emergency procedure, and his thought was "let me kiss my daughter." He had done the arm grip thing before, but I didn't know what he was doing, then. I'm sad that I missed it, and I hope he didn't feel rejected. I know it must be frustrating to not be able to communicate well, especially when you've spent your entire life communicating for a living.

Part of me is calm about the whole thing, now. Some days, I can't feel him with me and I am extremely scared about what happens after we die. I fear that he just no longer exists- I fear no longer existing, one day. But other days, it's like he's talking directly to me. I can't explain it. It's not like a thought. It's not like hearing a voice. It's like I suddenly know and then I know it was him who told me.

I asked him, last night, why I can't feel him anymore. I heard nothing. I was so sad, and I kept telling him that I couldn't believe that there was a such thing as heaven, anymore. That the afterlife felt like something I was using to comfort myself more than something real. I'm telling you, I got no answer at all. Radio silence. Nothing.

Then today, I was walking through the house and thought I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. I paused and looked, saw nothing, and rolled my eyes. "Hello, the dead," I said sarcastically, and went to the kitchen to grab food. When I went back upstairs, I felt compelled to go into the bonus room, where Dad would work when he worked from home. Once in there, I thought about him, and I kinda just said, not serious at all, "Dad, are you haunting me?" And I swear, I heard an answer. Like, just suddenly knew. It was "No, I don't need to haunt. I got Jesus." Listen if you know me, you know I'm not that religious. But my Daddy was. He played piano for various churches during his life, and prayed up into the day he died. That was exactly the type of answer he would have given.

I know people think that we mourners make experiences like that up in our heads to comfort ourselves, but it came to me as if it was placed into my head. It wasn't like a thought, or like writing dialogue. And more than that, I went from feeling like "there's probably nothing after we die" and not being able to feel my dad at all, to immediately feeling... good? Like, I knew immediately that he told me that. It's not even my first time... he's done it before. Like, soon after he died, the garage was broken and wouldn't go down. I knew it could be fixed and I casually asked Dad to help. Moments later, the fix popped into my head. I knew to pull the red string on the garage door opener and realign the thing. That's something I wouldn't have known, but that Dad would. As evidenced by me not even knowing what the thing is called. (It's like a little level that has to fit into a notch so that the chain can move properly to pull the door up and down.) It worked, too.

I just wanted to talk about my dad. And like... advocate for the spiritual world existing, I guess, because... idk, these experiences seem real, to me. That's all. I feel better, now.

[sparklepirate]

Alright, final thoughts on To Sleep In A Sea Of Stars

- Fucked me UP. Had me FEELING things. Some top tier sci-fi right there. Brava.

- It usually takes me a long time/several rereads to get attached to protagonists, but Kira Navárez was very instantly compelling in a way that I haven’t really experienced before, not even with Mr. Eragon Shadeslayer. She is, in fact, my girl. I think the two main things that make me like her so much is her grief and relationship with Alan, and her career. I’ll talk about Alan in a bit, but I find it so nice that, even in her moments of high stress and/or intense heroics she always stops to take a minute and look at all of these alien and be like “God I wish I had the time to sit here and study this. This is so fascinating.” Like... Girl same. If I were a space biologist I would be losing my MIND over all this.

- I bitched and moaned about her relationship with Falconi, but actually having seen the whole thing now I’m more fine with it. See, I was worried that this new fling with Falconi was going to crowd out Kira’s grief, and Falconi was going to act as basically the obligatory replacement love interest, and Alan was going to be forgotten, but that didn’t happen. Kira and Falconi almost read more as friends with benefits than a true romance, and Kira never once even considered him as a substitute for the love of her life. Falconi was a comfort to her, and them sleeping together was a very positive experience, and either or both of them could potentially have some sort of romantic feelings towards each other, but ultimately they are only friends. Kira’s last thought before she “died” was of Alan. I am relieved that Kira’s grief and romantic interests were treated with the care and thoughtfulness that they were, as so many authors before would have ruined it. (Side note, this also makes me a little less nervous for how Murtagh and Nasuada’s relationship might potentially be handled in the upcoming book.)

- I’ve never been one to cry over character death before. It’s always other things that get me to cry, and deaths I can usually take in stride, but Alan’s death in the beginning was IMPACTFUL. I don’t think I shed actual tears, but I was DISTRAUGHT. Kira’s grief was so real, and I felt her loss so palpably. Incredibly well written. And just the themes of guilt and acceptance, and Kira finally being able to defeat The Maw by forgiving herself... Chef’s kiss.

- On that note, I’m still reeling from the entire goddamn existential crisis I had after finishing. Kira didn’t DIE die, but I was on the verge of tears throughout the entirety of the last little bit. It felt like a death in some ways, and a rebirth in others, and it just made me think about what it means to be human, and what it means to be alive, and I’m. Not okay.

- Gregorovich!!!! Literally the whole sequence of him short circuiting, and Kira talking to him, and then trying to fix him with the Seed is SO GOOD. Particularly talking to him through the headset, and all of the different font sizes and visual indications of glitches was iconic. It’s a very visceral sort of horror that appeals to me. It’s the perfect meld between technological malfunction, and being unable to control losing your mind that is PEAK and that scene will live in my head rent free for forever.

- Also Trig!!! I love all of the crew of the Wallfish, but Greg and Trig are for sure my favorites. I was definitely sad to see Trig taken out of commission for the majority of the book, but I am PSYCHED to see him alive at the end and I NEED the sequel to talk about him and the Staff of Green!!!

- I went to see Paolini last night for his Fractal Noise tour, and he kept (jokingly) bemoaning the fact that “WHY am I writing about SPACESHIPS? I know why you’re all here!” And like, while yes obviously the Inheritance Cycle holds a very special place in my heart, you are writing about spaceships because they are COOL and you DESERVE to write about what you like!!! And you’re good at it too!! Not that he’s ever going to read this, but just because your space books aren’t as popular as your 2 decade long reign over the land of high fantasy doesn’t mean they aren’t good, or that they weren’t worth writing! As a writer or artist of any kind, we owe it to ourselves to create for the love of it, and the right people will resonate with our work. And you know what? Casaba-Howitzers ARE really cool!!

- ... Okay yes I DID use my time getting my book signed to ask him a question about Murtagh but that doesn’t make my previous sentiment any less genuine.

- Oh also the fight scene with Ctein was also god tier.

Anyways, back to Brisingr shortly!

[maschotch]

I have such complicated feelings about Derek this whole episode ughhhh

For one, he went through something ridiculously traumatic and most of the team cared more about how he treated them than how he felt. He obviously went through something horrifically traumatic, on the verge of being killed and watching two people die in front of him while he was powerless, that's fucking awful even with no context of the trauma he had connected to it. I feel like that would be obvious to most people, especially profilers and just grown ass adults who have trauma from viewing deaths themselves

Especially buck wild that Penelope wouldn't be more empathetic towards him, not just because of their relationship but because he LITERALLY SPENT ALL OF THE TIME TWO EPISODES AGO COMFORTING HER BECAUSE SHE WAS BREAKING DOWN AFTER SEEING SOMEONE BE MURDERED and it wasn't even someone she knew. Yes, he's a profiler and views these things more and would naturally react less extremely than her, and yes I guess he shouldn't have yelled at her, but like come on its weird to me she responds the way she does in light of how he treats her in the same situation during exit wounds

On the other hand, some of the team empathizes with him. Emily definitely does the best, and Rossi doesn't hurt as much, but hotch definitely tried to help in his own stand-offish way because he knew Morgan wouldn't respond well to confrontation. And he has to take his frustrations out on him even when he's just trying to help

Yeah Morgan did his paper work but I don't see how outside of that the team was expressly "there for him" when Hailey died. I get he's passionate but it seems so fucked up that he would throw that experience back in hotchs face to get what he wants, especially putting the teams behavior towards him after foyet on a pedestal when in reality while they tried to not hurt him, i wouldn't say any of them really had his back, especially when Derek was the one openly criticizing him the whole time and arguing with him

It's also not fair to compare hotch killing foyet to Derek killing Flynn in my opinion. I think Derek compares it like it's the same situation, but I honestly think it was kind of fucked up for Derek to kill him? Hotch was angry when he killed foyet, but i truly believe he did it because he knew if foyet got back up he wouldn't stop until he killed Jack. I don't think Flynn threatened dereks life at all. He was just pissed and wanted revenge on him, which is not the same. Also the fact foyett killed hotchs first love and long-term wife while Flynn killed a detective and his sister that Derek had met like a week ago lol

there's just something a little gross to me about the show trying to make it seem like morgan has to much to apologize for when he hasn't dont anything wrong, or at least not anything that isnt understandable. bc yeah kajsdhg jhe just went through a fucking trauma... he watched a dad get murdered in front of his daughter (the same shit that happened to him when he was a kid) and now the killer's taken the kid and who knows how long she has before she's killed. akjsdhlg seems a little stressful lmao makes sense that he'd be a little snippy.

but nooo instead lets make light of the situation and laugh about how he's upset. or in the company episode lets yell at him for being selfish and remind him that he's entirely responsible for finding his cousin. or in exit wounds when he's just trying to find out if garcia saw anything important, he's actually completely out of line and being totally inappropriate by... asking her question s

penelope reid and jj all act like he's being completely ridiculous and ignroing the shit he went through like a couple hours ago. hotch and emily at least seem a little more empathetic, which is nice, but considering that morgan's closer w penelope reid and jj it seems particularly fucked up that they're the ones who don't seem to give a shit about him or his feelings. especially since he's so attentive to their mental wellbeing.

i agree that morgan crossed a line when he threw the foyet thing in hotch's face, but truthfully i'm not that surprised. considering how morgan acted during that whole thing, it makes sense to me that he'd be insensitive about it. morgan was the one who was openly antagonistic towards hotch during foyet: questioning every decision, doubting every action, etc. and i think its suuuuuper interesting that morgan sees nothing wrong w the way he handled that. especially bc we know he's capable of being supportive (even in cases where the person is being an idiot about it, like reid in memoriam), its fascinating that morgan can look back on how he treated hotch and say that he had his back. like... if that was morgan being supportive, it makes me wonder what morgan actually wanted to do in that situation

morgan killing flynn and hotch killing foyet aren't the same at all.... but there's so much different about both situations that idek if you could even really compare them. foyet was an unsub whose personal mission was to make hotch as miserable as possible; flynn wasn't after morgan at all, even in the end. foyet said "i surrender" and hotch continued to beat him to death w his bare hands; morgan said "if you point your gun at them (the hostages) i'll kill you" and flynn raised his gun and morgan shot. hotch knew that there was no convincing foyet to stop; morgan didnt even try, even when flynn was having a change of heart. foyet wanted to see what hotch would do, how far hotch would go, what hotch was capable of; flynn wanted to die and knew morgan would kill him. i dont think morgan killing flynn was as emotional or dramatic as hotch killing foyet, but i dont think it was as justified either

overall, i just dont think this episode was written well. it was suppposed to be a morgan ep, but it was more about some random white guy. nearly everyone belittled morgan the whole time and the most compelling part of the ep was this little girl taking on this guy by herself (which then they completely ignored so jj could have her stupid little speech). jakshflkad i dont usually like criminal minds two parters/finales anyway, so idk if i like this more or less than the others, but theyre definitely episodes i typically skip on a rewatch

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Sorry if this is weird - but can we get The Star Seven and where they fall on the LGBT spectrum? :3 Or physical/mental illness N stuff? (Also you're my favorite fanfic author of all time! Ur so cool <3 )

Oh my GODDDDDDDD FIRST OF ALL!!!

Tysm I’m fucking losing my shit at being someone’s favorite fanfic author!!! And I am ALWAYS down to go stupid abt OrangeJuiceVerse oh my fuck.

Also!!!! There is not a single neurotypical mf in the entire 7!!! These bitches are soooo out here terrorizing any therapist they try to go to. So to start Off.

Kyle. That little I Learned Something Today Ass Bitch is SO fuckin gay!!! Like he realized as a preteen that he he didn’t actually like women like that (no wonder he’s Maidenless smh) and he was like OH! Bc the way he felt abt Stan was soooo homiesexual dear lord he whole ass kept it to himself for way too long. He’s also on the ace spectrum, bc as a demi loser, I feel like he’s demi idc. Like this man fr thought porn was something only referenced in movies and then Kenny showed him some shit and he was like WHAT THE GODDAMN HELL IS THIS rip same Ky. As for mental illnesses and such, aside from being Down Horrendous for the sbf, this poor guy is sooo fucked in the brain. So he’s got awful anxiety, borderline obsessive compulsive tendencies, a fucking eating disorder (for a lil while in hs, he’s mentally fine in that department during most of the ojv), some kinda martyr complex. And physically? Mans a mess. Type 1 diabetes, absolute shit immune system, chronic issues with his left knee, probably anemia, on the verge of developing early onset arthritis when he gets older bc he fucked his body up with the ed, he’s STRUGGLING. He’s also stubborn as fuck and has frequently passed out because he didn’t want to check his levels. He gets in trouble with literally everyone for that.

STAN!!! Jesus this poor boy. My absolute Bi King!!! (Kyle may be the one biking around town bc his road rage is so godawful but Stan is the BI-king) yeah I’m a bi Stan believer bc this man is a HUGE simp!!! Ohhhh my god this boy when he was younger he’d see someone pretty and be SO down bad. But the only person he ever was actually good at being in a relationship with was Kyle. Stanley Down Bad Marsh, since the moment he knew what beauty was, beauty was Kyle. He did have a crush on Wendy in 4th grade, but then he was like kyyyylllleee. (Jail to stan). God his brain is so fucked. First of all RANDY is his father so he’s got trauma out the wazzoo, he’s an alcoholic, and he’s so plagued with adhd and dyslexia like pack it up Percy Jackson (he’s so Percy coded argue w the wall) plus this guy is depressed as hellllll. Oh my fuck Sadsack is real his lows are LOW and Kyle has threatened him with his therapist friends before. He’s doing better later down the timeline, thank you aa, oh yeah there’s the alcoholism too, but he’s the support group KING my darling boy ojv stan!!!

Kenny. Ok man the Kenny Of It All is sooooo bizarre. So he is immortal, but no one knows except for Marj! This takes such a mental toll on him, this guy is out here fully discombobulated bc he just came back from a rebirth and everyone’s like oh hey Ken where’d u go yesterday. His deaths have gotten less frequent as he grows up, but tbh he is still veeeerrry prone to bouts of depression and anxiety because of them, especially when he feels forgotten. I delved into that here and a tiny bit here, his mentality honestly can’t really be put into words. Like his brain doesn’t make sense even to himself. ALSO!!! He is THE Pan Without A Plan he’s so all over the place if you put him in the same room with Stan (his Blood Brother In Desperation, his Ride Or Die Disaster Bi), someone’s comin out in need of an emergency room.

Tweek!!!!! Dude Tweek that poor kid. Addiction, ocd, anxiety, the guys got it all. Also, another bitch on the ace spectrum? Yep. Homoromantic for sure, and closer to the sex-repulsed side of things.

Craig is an enigma dude, like this mf is so nonchalant about everything until he isn’t, the typa man to just casually drop some random piece of lore and you’re just like BRUH TF?!? Smh but anyway so he’s autistic, diagnosed as a kid when his parents were like our son got something goin on, and then everyone in his life was like ohhhh that makes sense. He gets kind of violent in his meltdowns, punching walls and shit, and he’s SCARY!! Not because he’s trying to be, like OrangeJuiceVerse Craig is such a softie, but he’s also scary looking! Like he’s 6’4 and long as hell, resting bitch face, he’s honestly kind of terrifying until you get used to him. He’s got the most absurd dry sense of humor though omg he and Kyle have this stupid “we can be assholes for fun” vibe. He’s a full blown gay ass dude btw.

MARJORINE MY BELOVED! She doesn’t label herself really, she just knows she loves Kenny, and her heart is so big like Love Is Stored In The Marj (unfortunately she’s also the queen of mlms and has had multiple pick me phases smh gullible queen). So she ALSO is autistic, and omg she’s a lot of the reason Kyle switched his major from premed to psych. I’ve mentioned before the m5 living together the first year of college and one time Marj had a bit of a problem at a karaoke bar with Stan and Stan my precious sweetheart IMMEDIATELY brought her to Ky (Kenny had studio hours) and Kyle’s letting her braid his hair and he’s helping her through her meltdown and she’s like “you should really do this as your job”. She was right. Kyle’s fantastic at what he does.

Jesus fuckin Christ Cartman. No one knows what the hell his sexuality is. He won’t tell you. He won’t disclose his pronouns either. (Tbh this mf never fully figures out his sexuality or gender he’s just vibin and also doesn’t care.) Also bruhhhh he’s such a disaster mentally. He’s been on a cocktail of meds since middle school for schizophrenia, sociopathic personality disorder, bpd, poor dudes got too damn much going on. BUT he’s relatively stable from like 6th grade onwards. Just an asshole for fun and out of habit. (OJV Cartman is so much fun to me)

OKAY! Dude you have no idea how excited I was to get this ask I’ve wanted to talk abt what the OJV Star Seven have goin on mentally foreeeevvvver!!!

Any curiosities someone has about OrangeJuiceVerse or ANY of my other stuff PLEASE ask me about whatever! I am super annoying and Weird!!!

[holofoiltowercard]

The Journey of The Tarot Haiku

XVI: The Tower - Coming down

Twice already, my life had completely fallen apart, and right now I feel like this is the third time, only different.

The first time was after possibly the most amazing year of my life. I was still in university as a member of a team, and I did more traveling that year to attend workshops than I had in my entire life up to that point. I had plans for staying on to do my PhD and teach courses. I had successfully completed the requirements and also got a translator's degree. It all looked splendid. And then a few months later, I was shaking in bed, sobbing, and could feel that something in me had died. I fell into basically clinical depression, except I wouldn't be diagnosed with anything for ten years. I felt no joy and no hope. Everything I had looked forward to lost its meaning and I had no energy to pursue anything. I practically vegetated for a year or more, and my first revival so to speak was not some great opportunity coming to whisk me away into wealth and comfort. I simply rediscovered what being in online fandoms felt like, and could laugh and feel excitement again to be connected. I still have some wonderful friends from that first era.

The second collapse came when I had finally mustered the strength to continue my PhD and submitted my proposal as well as did my examinations. The head of department clearly didn't like what I was trying to do, and made me do double the examination requirements: instead of thirty readings and one presentation, I had to do sixty readings and two presentations within a few months. I still remember reading a hundred pages a day for about two months, leaving the house only a handful of times when I was forced to. I wasn't allowed to deliver my second presentation by the way and was dismissed with a condescending evaluation and a lowish grade. I then did my proposal and said everything I was planning to do, and someone said out loud "IF you get that far," and the room laughed. Later my friends told me they could literally see something in me snap at that moment. And snap it did. I was suicidal, and soon wrote an email letting these people know I was leaving. I had no other choice despite family pressuring me to continue because I had already cost everyone so much money. I was on the verge of considering how much relief my death would be, and that meant I could go no further or I would just harm myself beyond repair.

That time, the upswing came, funnily enough, from the direction of university, but not to draw me back in. Someone I had met there while I was doing my PhD thought I was cool, and recommended me as a translator to their friends, and a little after I had told my mom that I surrendered to life and something will come, I landed my first big translator commission, and they liked me so much that later I got to work for another institution, and sometimes I was sought out by name to translate for someone because they wanted me, or someone I recommended. It was honestly really great, despite how dark the materials I translated were; I learned a lot and I appreciate and cherish that time.

The pandemic probably dealt a very severe blow to these institutions. They did not say it outright, but not being able to hold or attend conferences must have put a huge dent in their research, in their plans to publish volumes, and in the funds they received, so I haven't had the pleasure of working with them in a while. I then almost lost all my life's work to the two computer crashes, and that shook me enough to finish my book and self-publish it.

I now sit in the void, knowing something big in my life has probably ended, and hoping that this book and whatever follows will be the upswing. All I can do is hope and will it with all my might, and share my story.

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[dahbeez]

SLIGHT ANGST???? i was on the verge of TEARS. the way you wrote bakugou on the brink of death was so raw and heartbreaking, i could literally gush about how true to his character reading it felt for like an hour— the crippling realisation that he was dying and needed help, scraping together the last of his strength to scream for his friends, being conscious of the civilian who needed him to get up the entire time. and oh my gosh, when his screams started to die down into desperate cries if anyone could even hear him— i was (and still am, to be honest) in complete and utter SHAMBLES. thank you for giving us the ending we needed, felt like reader healed my heart at the same time </33 literally never been so happy for a little deus ex machina in my life but that scene will forever stick out in my brain as one of the best written interpretations of bakugou i’ve ever read

wow, thank you so much for your kind words !

i’m so happy that you enjoyed my writing, i wanted to represent Bakugo’s character as accurately as possible and i’m so glad you think i did well ! it’s really fun to write for him since his emotions are raw and honest. i’m happy i could do him justice.

i wasn’t expecting this kind of feedback, and i’m truly grateful for your appreciation of my writing !

have a wonderful day ! 🫶