#many delusions where they are alive and the thought of going back to them is the only thing keeping him going really

[lazyyogi]

Q: How I can detach myself from someone?

Detaching from anything, be that a person, object, or circumstance, means coming back to yourself. 

Attachment isn’t a real experience; it is a product of confusion.

Generally it means someone has knowingly or unknowingly assumed something to be permanent that by nature cannot be so.

You aren’t physically bound to this person. The experience of attachment is an occurrence in the mind. It has to do with the mind’s thoughts and the body’s reaction to those thoughts. Or, conversely, the body’s emotions and the mind’s reaction/interpretation regarding those emotions. 

When attachment is a force in our life, it is because we have begun to use temporary phenomena as a way to orient and understand who we are and where our happiness resides. It is an indication that we have misattributed some sense of who we are and the joy of that Being to something derivative and external. When that phenomenon’s role in our life changes due to the impermanent nature of this shifting world, it can provoke confusion within us that results in suffering.

Most people “fix” this by going from one attachment to another. Perhaps finding a new boyfriend, pursuing sensory gratification in myriad forms, or fixating on worldly achievement. They play out the same old pattern of delusion but in different ways all while expecting a different result.

I suspect this is why so many of our elders make us sad rather than inspire hope and wisdom—their lives end more with regret than with transformation, peace, and insight. 

To discover real peace means loosening this tendency to grasp at the world for happiness and identity, instead turning within to uncover the real meaning of your aliveness when we talk about “life.”

Daily meditation is an essential part of altering your way of living such that you aren’t so much trying to fill a hole within you but rather you are allowing something to come through you into this world. Instead of trying to get happiness from life, you bring happiness to life.

When your way of life becomes an opportunity to express and share the peace and happiness you are finding within, everything changes. There is less fear, more love. Less attachment, more freedom. Less confusion, more peace. 

On a more immediate level, try this:

Notice the primary form your attachment takes. It could be thoughts, emotions, or both. 

When that attachment begins to express itself, shift your focus from the story you have built in your mind to the feeling of being in your body. 

This feeling of inhabiting the body includes both the sensations in the body but also the space in which those sensations occur. 

For example, when you feel your hand from the inside out, there is the sensation of the energy-consciousness in your hand but there is the internal spaceless space of awareness in which that sensation presents itself. 

By abiding with your attention filling your body in this way, you avoid getting swept up in mental loops of the thoughts that once acted to renew your feelings of pain. 

At the same time, it allows the feelings of pain to be there and to be fully experienced without being overcome or swept away by them.

Make this practice persistent so long as you are suffering from the experience of attachment, or really any form of mental anguish. It always subsides into peace, sooner or later. 

Lastly, a book I would highly recommend is The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. 

Namaste :) Much love

[tabsters]

a compilation of reasons why till is 100% alive and definitely not dead

none of these theories are originally mine, I'm just compiling them all in one place to feed our delusions

please let me know about any more theories that I might have missed

here we go y'all!!!

psst @thegh0st-of-ingrid @hoisinblackcat @ventiilatte @starboy2461 @hyeesong @professionalwaterbender @yourlocalapplejuice @im-just-here-for-the-comics-r18 @iirexenii @probably-a-human-being

1 - Lovehate merch

probably the most blatant and obvious indicator as to why till's alive. in the other two lovehate merch items, the dead person is in black and white, while the alive person is in color.

thus implying that with ivantill, only Ivan is truly dead, and till is alive. he doesn't look too happy about it, but he is alive.

counterpoint to this point by @/mara9:

"I personally think the lovehate is only in relation (?) to their rounds together, it was just my first interpretation of them, could be totally wrong"

and while this could be true, luka and hyuna are not in the clothes they wore when hyuna died. luka is in his round 5 outfit, while hyuna is not in her uniform hoodie thing. therefore, the outfits have no relation to the symbolism. I think.

2 - Till's All-In cover art

till's art is the only piece of art to feature two different colors: red and green. (you could hypothetically count Ivan's art as having two different colors as well because of his red eyes but this art isn't officially released yet, so I won't count it)

it's extremely important to note that not only is the tape red (symbolizing till's blood), it's also directly over till's gunshot wound. this could imply a number of things, such as:

till's alive but his vocal cords are permanently injured

till was dead but comes back to life wrong

till somehow loses his sense of identity (because the tape is also directly over his name) and is technically "alive" but is no longer till

3 - Traces comic

all of the "dead" characters got comics after their death, depicting their dying thoughts.

sua where she talks to her older sister about how she found heaven in ANAKT:

Ivan talks about his selfish love towards till:

and hyuna talks about how luka was her one and only weakness:

but till doesn't get his own comic after his death. he gets a comic about his mother talking about till before he came to ANAKT.

considering this, we can conclude that till doesn't have any dying thoughts yet because he's not actually dead.

4 - Vision After art

again, this is part of a series with the other dead characters (excluding hyuna, because she wasn't dead at this point). with Ivan and sua, both of them are looking towards the camera, and their mirrors are typical mirrors, reflecting their images.

but till's mirror is different; it's a true mirror. what till sees in the mirror is exactly the same as what everyone else sees. he's turned away, and you can't see either till's faces.

while this presents less implications about his supposed death, it does separate him from Ivan and sua, who are already confirmed to be 100% dead.

I'm also unsure if this has been touched on, but I think that Ivan and sua looking towards the viewer could be indicative of them looking towards the person they sacrificed themselves for. what could this mean for till? it could be that till is looking towards himself because he was selfish in his "death". he wasn't sacrificing himself for anyone, he "died" when he was trying to reach for mizi.

this could be interpreted as a selfish act; he "died" to fulfill a desire that he had. he "died" for himself.

"died" being in quotation marks because, as previously stated, HE'S NOT ACTUALLY DEAD!!!

5 - Screenshots from the final round

many people have pointed out two things: till's heart rate monitor/mic thing is hanging out of his ear. this could mean that till's heart did not actually stop; his monitor merely got dislodged, making the aliens think his heart stopped. this also explains why till's picture flickers twice before going dark, as opposed to every other eliminated person's picture flickering once.

additionally, people have also pointed out that if till was really dead, his leg would not be up. his body would simply just go completely limp. this implies that there's still oxygen circulating through till's leg, thus implying that his leg is alive, thus implying that till is still alive.

6 - Screenshot from wiege:

this can probably be written off as more of a stylistic choice, but mizi's arms are completely covering till's face. we cannot tell what expression till's making, and therefore can't confirm for sure what he looks like and if he's actually dead.

7 - All the dead characters have bushy eyebrows

I think this one is self-explanatory.

Additional points by @/thegh0st-of-ingrid:

8 - His character treatment post-R7: apparently when asked about specific things about his character (mainly about his relationship with Ivan from his pov) Vivimeng didn't answer the questions. This to me could be proof that he's still alive since there are things yet to be reveald. And speaking of which...

9 - Narratively, the lack of his pov renders his (and partially Ivan's) storyline incomplete: his death hasn't a sense of finality bc he hasn't got a mini comic about that from his pov, and the lack of that pov itself (plus Vivimeng gatekeeping it) indicates that they're not done with the character

10 - Cross sybolism:

That may not that much of a concrete proof, but it could add to the forshadowing if he's reveald alive

(he'll arise 3 mvs after his death)

Additional point from @/probably-a-human-being:

11 - his hair thing is still pointing up. That's his antenna how could he be dead if his antenna is still up

edit: some more theories from another user that made a similar post not long after mine:

12 - This promotional art featuring all of the ALNST crew:

notice how only mizi is fully in color while sua, Ivan, and hyuna are completely in shades of blue. but it's important to note that both luka and till still retain their original colors as well as shades of blue. this could mean that luka and till die eventually, but not yet. and luka and till are right next to mizi, while hyuna and Ivan and sua are farther away.

13 - This coffin art

all of the confirmed dead people are at the top, with the people they sacrificed themselves for on the bottom. while this could just be defining who sacrificed themselves and who was saved in turn, it could also mean that TILL IS ALIVE!!!

14 - Snow White fanart

this was made before hyuna died and I think also before till died. all of these people are dead. notably absent is TILL!!!

[nomoreusername]

Cuddle Buddies (Part 2)

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:Seeing Gally again gives you both a chance to say what you finally realized.

His hands were rough. That was to be expected. They were splintered more in a day than mine were in a month, always running over wood and working with nails. They were callous, almost cracked. It was far different from mine, used to bandages and wraps.

They were used to him now. I had held them so often they were practically etched in my skin.

Leaning my head on his shoulder, I lightly squeezed. Squeezing back, he stayed silent, simply sitting in the Deadheads away from everyone with me.

“Life still kind of sucks sometimes,”He mumbled.

“That's inevitable. The good thing is that everyone’s lives are like that no matter where you are.”

“Why is that a good thing?”

“It means everyone has kind of connection with humanity. And that's a wonderful, wonderful thing.”

That memory had played in my head over and over for so long. So many memories of us had haunted me. My dreams were all repetitions of it. Of his death, of his touch, of everything. No matter how many times I see him, something in my soul would ache when I wake up.

I missed him. I’ve missed him for so long. I’ve missed more things than I ever knew I could.

It was a delusion. Meeting his dark brown eyes was nothing more than a brittle fantasy that would fall apart when I forgot his face, his voice, his rough hands. The thought of looking at the stars every single night and making sure to talk to him as though we were still cuddled together in the Glade was as part of my evening routine as closing my eyes.

So how was he here, right in front of me, alive? How?

Before I could process it, he was on the floor after Thomas’s fist made contact with his face. Laying on top of him, he had Gally by the collar of his shirt, ready to do it again.

“Thomas, stop it!”I yelled, kneeling beside him, giving him a harsh look as I was ready to catch his hand if needed.

“He killed Chuck,”He said simply, his voice breathy and shaky.

“He was stung, Thomas. He couldn't control it,”I pointed out.

He looked, or glared, at Gally. With reluctance and trembling hands, he got off of him, staring in disbelief. Doing the same, I got back to trying to force my brain to realize this wasn't a trick as he rubbed his jaw before letting out a half sigh half huff, straightening his shoulders.

“Anyone else want a turn? Fry? Y/N?”

Acting faster than I could think, I threw my arms around him, taking a deep breath. I didn't have to be reminded that not once had we shown any kind of public affection, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

And neither could he apparently as he got over his shock, hugging me back just as tightly.

♡ - - - ♡

I don't think I can quite believe it yet. He’s alive. The boy I spent so long yearning for, the boy that they had haunted my thoughts and dreams, was actually alive all along.

I care about Minho. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. We weren't glued at the hip close, but we always had the other's back. That was more than enough to do whatever it took to get him back.

But there was a relief I didn't think I would ever get to feel. One that I couldn't help but be grateful for.

He hadn't explained exactly where we were going. Just that it was important. That was enough for me to follow him up a ladder on the side of the building.

The metal was cold on my palms. A kind of cold that my palms didn't believe when he was so nearby to hold them.

He did hold out his hand to me when I got to the top. Even though I didn't need it, I accepted. As he helped me up, I could barely register the concrete under my feet, too enticed by the feeling I had missed so much.

A feeling that left just as quickly as he let go, moving over as the other's stood beside us.

“Why are we here?”Thomas asked shortly, the suspicion in his voice making me cringe. He didn't say anything for a moment, his hands in his pockets as he looked over at Thomas, then at the building in front of him.

“Because this is our way in,”He said as though he were talking about the weather.

“This is just a building.”

“Maybe. But that one isn't,”He responded, nodding his head across from us. Following his movement, Thomas squinted his eyes before peeking the telescope.

Standing closer to the railing, I observed what I could through the window. Everyone was walking around with such purpose, their movements swift but deliberate, as if they had somewhere to be and no time to be there.

Including what I swear was a familiar figure, brown hair falling down her back as she scribbled something on a clipboard.

When he pulled away, his expression dropping, it was clear I wasn't mistaken. That was Teresa.

“I said I had a way in. I didn't say you were gonna like it.”

I glanced over at Newt to find his gaze firmly on Thomas as he adjusted his arms over the only thing standing between us and a death sentence.

“And we're just supposed to believe you now?”He snapped, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You are if we want Minho back,”I reminded him.

“Of course I want Minho.”

“Act like it then.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned against the wall, staring at the place we had run from for so long. Our friends have died trying to escape.

And now we're running back to their arms.

“You have to believe me. If you want this to work.”

All heads turned towards Gally. Not meeting any of our eyes, he took a breath, seeming to argue with himself for a moment.

“I killed Chuck. I promise I know. I see his face every time I close my eyes.”

His voice cracked for a second. Just enough for it to be clear he had thought about this conversation before.

“You don't have to forgive me. You don't have to like me. That's something we could both live with. What neither of us could ever live with though, is leaving Minho there. So if we want any chance of this working, you have to believe me. You have to trust me.”

He looked over at Thomas as if looking for approval. With the wind blowing, swishing around us, everything felt so small. We were just dots in a world that held so many. And yet, something so important was happening again. Important things have been happening, no matter how hard we worked to avoid them. Situations were always out of our hands.

Just like when Gally pulled the trigger.

“Okay.”

It was the most pathetic approval that had ever been given. Nevertheless, it was one, which was the most we could have hoped for at this point.

Deciding we were done for the night, he headed down the ladder like he had to get out of here before he regretted a decision. Honestly, that might be for the best.

As he followed, Newt patted my shoulder as if we would be up here longer, like he knew something we didn't.

Standing there, I kept my eyes on him. Finally returning my gaze, he stood straight, an action I couldn't help but copy.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don't have to be sorry,”I assured him, taking his hand in mine.

“I do. I’m sorry it took not having you to see it,”He whispered.

“To see what?”

He stayed silent, the only sound being the cold night breeze around us. His face was softer than I had ever seen it, a tired expression on it. Not one that sleep could fix. A tired that I had felt for so long. The tired of waiting for someone you swore you could never have.

“To see what, Gally?”

“To see . . . how badly I actually needed you. I always knew that you were comforting. I knew you were safe. I didn't appreciate it though. Not as much as I should have.”

“You appreciated it just right. I mean there weren't supposed to be any feelings in the first place.”

“I know. Now I mean. I know why I always found myself wanting you again,”He said quietly, his eyes flickering to each of mine, then at my lips, making my stomach twist itself in knots.

“I don't think I appreciated you either. Not until I could only dream about you. I don't think it actually registered how much I craved those times alone until I thought we could never go somewhere the world wasn't allowed to see.”

“How different?”

“I . . . I want to do that again. I want it to be . . . different this time.”

“I’d like to cuddle you. To be by your side. And I’d like to say I love you as I did it.”

“Say it now then,”I dared.

“I love you. I always loved you no matter how blind I was to it.”

“That's okay. I was blind to it too,”I smiled.

His free hand slowly went to my face, cupping my cheek. Placing my palm over his, I rubbed his knuckles with my thumb, something I had missed so dearly.

“I still want to hold you. And I’d like to kiss you when I do this time?”

Standing on the tip of my toes, I nodded before just barely brushing my lips against his. Kissing me back, he let it be light and slow, something that held no lust. Him and I were never just lust. We were always meant to be so much more. To hold each other like we were the only people that mattered.

And now, if we make it out of this, we’ll get to hold each other forever. I don't even care if that means staying in the city until I die. Where he goes, I go.

I’ll never give him up again. Not when life was a nightmare when I had to.

And not when kissing him was nothing short of a dream.

[the-sun-the-moon-and-thalia]

Season 3 episode 9 Thoughts and Theories

Of all the ways to lose someone, death is the kindest. Fighting to survive in this world means giving up your humanity and losing yourself. It is better to die yourself than live with what you’ve done. Where is the line between survival and identity death? How far will you go to survive only to be unable to live with the consequences as a completely different person than when you started?

Almost every single one of these wilderness deaths comes as a direct result of the person choosing morals and humanity over survival, which is the antithesis of the wilderness. 

Laura Lee risks her life to take the plane because she is a good person who would rather everyone live. It’s dangerous and not likely to succeed, but she puts hope and goodness first, refusing to become selfish in her survival. She dies because of it. 

 Jackie sleeps outside because she would rather stay true to herself and her position than do the survival thing of sucking it up and sleeping inside (a running theme with Jackie, who would rather continue to be herself than adapt and become hardened by the wilderness.) 

Crystal immediately disagrees with Misty, arguing with her and blaming her for the black box. She refuses to go along with Misty’s delusion, something most people disagree with her over. Like, girl, be quiet and let Misty think you’re on her side until you get away from that damn cliff. But crucially, she doesn’t she does not lie. She is right morally, and she doesn’t give up her side of the argument. She dies for this choice. 

Javi only falls into the lake because he was trying to save Nat making him a target instead. 

Coach Ben refuses to try to survive by eating human flesh, which is ultimately why he chooses to leave the group and signs his death warrant. You could also say his letting Mari go is also an example; he lets her go, which is the morally correct decision when killing her to keep her quiet would promote his own survival. 

Natalie protects Lisa and takes the hit for choosing Lisa’s survival over her own. Van refuses to kill Melissa, which she thinks may count as a sacrifice to the wilderness, which would ensure her survival and then Melissa kills her for it. 

The surviving characters, time and time again, have chosen their own survival over their humanity or morals. The most obvious example is in cannibalism. We see them partake in something that they do out of a deep, perverse desire to survive (not something I am judging them for) but goes against their morals. They have sacrificed people to the wilderness, “it’s what it wants,” but they have also sacrificed their identity and humanity.

We see this most acutely with Shauna and Tai. Shauna, who has had every bad personality trait magnified, every awful urge indulged, has become a rotten, hateful shell of her former self and has lost almost everything because of it. When she eventually does make it out of her survival situation she has very little to come back to. This is one of the many reasons she takes on Jackie's presumed identity, she marries Jeff, she has another baby she lives Jackie's life. She has no identity no personhood left to her she gave it up when she lost Jackie. We saw brief glimpses when she had her baby of the Shauna she used to be but it was gone as quick as it came. In keeping herself alive, she has consumed Jackie, she has beaten Lottie almost to death, she chased Natalie and carved up Javi. Things she HAD to do to survive. But was it worth it? To come back to nothing to live a life filled with nothing with shadows of the things you lost, a husband that reminds you of your best friend, and a daughter that reminds you of your baby.

Tai has literally created another person so we see this idea most literally with her. The other Tai is the one who survives; the other Tai is the one who kills, sacrifices and consumes. It is a survival mechanism but one that causes her to completely lose her sense of self, morals, and humanity. She doesn't remember (some of) the things she had to do to survive. Because she can not be Taissa and do those things, they can not both exist. Unlike Shauna, who, when faced with this, gives up her humanity, or Van, who confronts and accepts it, Tai is in denial. She creates this other side of her/opens herself up to some evil shit to do the things that are necessary for her to survive. Tai is rational, she is calm she is clever she is realistic.

The cave dream sequence and the slap bracelet also exemplify this. Jackie and Akilah remain unharmed. Van gets a cut, and Shauna gets murked. While Akilah may have eaten flesh, she hasn’t done anything specifically to sacrifice her sense of identity. She hasn’t lost herself yet. As the quote on the board says, of all the ways to lose yourself, death is the kindest. Van has done some bad things. She has rigged the card draw (confirmed by Tai in episode 9) and may have started the cabin fire/covered up for Tai. She gets slightly cut as she has maintained herself despite what she needs to do to survive. Shauna has lost herself completely. She has died and been reborn in the wilderness. This identity death is symbolised through the slap bracelet literally killing her. She has survived so much, and it has warped her horribly. Jackie and her baby died, having to carve up Javi. She has survived through it all, but who she was and what she is now are not the same. (DISCLAIMER: this is definitely not the only way to read the dream sequence. This is just one of many interpretations, but I thought it all linked together quite well.)

Lottie also aligns with this really clearly (interesting that these are the three who choose to stay behind). She is giving in to these instincts and ideas she’s feeling real (from trauma) or from the wilderness (supernatural). She has lost who she used to be completely and has given herself over to these survival-based instincts entirely. The Lottie Matthews from pre-crash is dead well and truly, and Tai and Shauna at least become shadows of their former selves. Lottie has become ruthless for her own survival but also that of the group. Lottie, however, is not doing this intentionally, which I think is one of the reasons she has died this season. Lottie genuinely thinks she is doing this to help everyone, i.e., staying true to her morals. She is, however, sacrificing her humanity to do it, i.e., becoming more in touch with the wilderness/her trauma; take your pick. It’s a self-sacrificing role but one for the survival of the group and herself. I think this is why she is the teacher in the dream sequence, removed from everyone but not completely apart. 

I think at some point early on in the season, she comes to terms with this and begins to reclaim herself and choose humanity over survival, but this will mean her death. If you couldn’t tell, Lottie is my favourite character, and I love her so much that she is so deeply misunderstood.

Hannah's decision to kill Kodi is something that is so obviously done out of the desire to survive "the things people will do to survive another day", cements her as part of the team. It's a fucked up out of left field decision for someone like her as she has decided she willing to sacrifice everything to make it out alive.

Lottie and Travis’s deaths fit into this the least. Obviously, we don’t know how Lottie died, and we only know Lottie’s account of how Travis died, so if anyone has any good thoughts on how their deaths might fit in with the theme, let me know. 

The show is ultimately and always has been about survival and identity.

[desastre-fag]

Why I believe Audrey two is Seymour's subconscious and not a man eating plant.

I need everyone to hold my hands, look me in the eyes and listen carefully when I say this is my own interpretation based on the musical 2022 production with jeremy jordan and christian borle.

Trigger warnings for: themes of mental illness especially psychosis, mentions of suicide, murder, dismemberment, paranoid delusions, reality not being what it seems, blood and gore and anything else in relation to little shop of horrors.

OK ANYWAYS ON WITH IT !

point number one: Seymour is not mentally well.

He is so open to persuasion and peer pressure as shown not only by how quickly he folds when audrey II asks him to feed him BLOOD but also with how easily mushnik is able to make him his son (my baby seymour is so lonely and desperate for any positive attention). He definitely has depression and in this theory i believe he also suffers from psychosis. The initial feedings to audrey II are acts of self harm as a result of his mental illness.

point number two: audrey II as an extension of seymour.

Audrey II becomes a confidant to seymour, especially when facing ethical dilemmas and his own moral ideals - see feed me (get it) where he becomes convinced orin deserves to die - however i don't think that it is as literal as it is shown on stage. audrey II is an extension of seymour's conscious and subconscious that seymour's psychosis creates as a visual outlet for his own feelings. In reality i theorised that audrey II is a simple plant. although it IS a new discovery it does not become sentient but still brings fame and fortune to mushnik's florist. You may be wondering, well why does he feed it blood then? MENTAL ILLNESS BABEY!!! bringing us back to point one that seymour's subconscious needs to rationalise everything, including that he needs to "feed" this plant to keep revenue coming and reward it for bringing him fame.

point number three: seymour's hands.

Let's skip forward a little bit to when seymour tells mushnik that he needs to go into the plant to retrieve their money. Specifically during this production (as far as i know) seymour gestures to audrey II whilst its mouth opens and then when it begins to close onto mushnik, he stares at his hands and turns them over - reminiscent of characters who have killed and stare at their hands in shock/ in awe of blood that coats them. I believe that seymour does this to show that mushnik does not actually get eaten by audrey II in reality, but is instead murdered by seymour using his hands and then dismembered - similar to orin - and hidden in soil around the florist, but mainly in audrey II.

point number four: audrey II relaying seymour's inner thoughts.

When mushnik confronts seymour initially about his murder of orin and asks him to go to the police, audrey II comes alive with another presence on the stage for the first time in the show (i do not count when someone is being fed to audrey II e.g orin's corpse/mushnik getting into audrey II or audience interaction). Audrey II drives paranoia into seymour's forefront of his mind with his words, getting more and more intense as mushnik tells him to go to the police and prove his innocence. Seymour's irrational and paranoid mind creates this driving force via audrey II, giving him the ability to rationalise the killing of his father figure lest he go to prison.

point number five: orin scrivello DDS.

Orin's death could be labelled a convenient accident - but thats what seymour wants to think - his inaction in helping orin out of the mask is the direct cause of his death and although it is not the same as shooting him point blank, i still consider this an act of murder, the first of many. As mentioned previously seymour is very easily convinced that orin deserves to die for his abusive acts to audrey I, and rationalises that he MUST kill him to feed audrey II who has rewarded him with fame, fortune, and eventually audrey I. He rationalises orin's murder which is the start of his aggressive downward spiral into deeper psychosis and murder and then buries him in audrey II's soil.

point number six: audrey I.

Audrey I is seymour's core desire and main motive for most of his actions - he takes various contracts for money to provide for audrey, he kills orin for audrey's safety, he kills mushnik so he doesn't get turned in for orin's murder and so he can stay with audrey. Everything is centred around audrey because she is a large driving force for seymour. Her influence on him is shown during feed me (get it) in the instrumental section when orin slaps audrey for forgetting her sweater in front of seymour, this is the turning point for seymour's morality and he becomes of the belief some people deserve to die - especially orin.

point six and a half: audrey I going somewhere that's green.

Now let's get to the more complicated part of audrey I's death. NO ONE PANIC I AM NOT THROWING AWAY THE THEORY BECAUSE SEYMOUR ISN'T IN THE SCENE INITIALLY THAT'S ACTUALLY AN IMPORTANT PART OF IT. Seymour experiences a pure psychotic break, hence audrey II being the only one present for the scene initially and conversing with audrey I for the first time. Audrey II IS seymour, just the part of him he harshly represses and barely acknowledges, hence the manifestation of audrey II as a man eating plant. He accidentally fatally injures audrey I and as she dies in his arms, he needs to rationalise it all as a lone act committed by audrey II and not himself. Seymour buries her in the soil along with orin and mushnik.

point seven: audrey II and detaching seymour from reality.

Audrey II serves as a way for seymour to disconnect himself from the reality of his crimes, creating a completely separate entity deemed to feed on blood (fresh and human - why was that specified? to rationalise the murders) and has evil motives (world conquest). What we see is not reality, but what seymour sees.

point eight: seymour's death/suicide.

We see seymour dive into audrey II in an attempt to kill it from the inside, in line with this theory i see this as seymour committing suicide in horror at his own acts and the part of him which manifested as audrey II in his mind. He willingly enters the 'man eating plant' which he has seen eat three separate people with only a small machete, implying he wouldn't know the outcome is death implies he is an idiot. i have theorised that he comes to after audrey I's death and burial and in horror and shame of his murderous acts and the way he justified them he chooses to kill himself - mostly due to the death of audrey I - in order to kill the part of him that allowed those things to happen. Kind of a Jekyll and Hyde situation, killing yourself to kill the second person inhabiting your body and brain.

point nine: the finale.

The finale we see is seymour's final brain functions, bringing all his rationalisations and delusions to a head, where audrey II lives on and goes on to conquer the world with millions of other man eating plants. He gets to see all his victims one final time, and shares a warning to not feed the plants, no matter what they offer you - do not feed delusions or rationalise evil deeds no matter the positive outcomes. Speaking of positive outcomes !

point ten: the rewards system tied to audrey II.

What emphasises and solidifies the rationalisations and delusions are the positive things that happen around seymour as he kills, such as getting into a relationship with audrey I, money, popularity, getting adopted, multiple contracts etc. Reminder that what we see in the show is seymour's perceptions, and that i theorise in reality they are much less positive and are blown out of proportion by seymour so that they are a significant positive outcome of his negative acts. He does not get together with audrey I, they simply interact more than before, the contracts are bad deals, the money isn't as great as it seems, he gets adopted but as we see in the show it is for ulterior motives (seymour sees it as an act of pure love).

conclusion:

I have little shop of horrors brain rot and i love this theory so much it adds a whole new layer to the show, especially the ending ! love the character of audrey II but i also love the idea that he is a manifestation of seymour's subconscious and not actually a man eating plant.

i did not proofread this. hope you enjoyed :)

[burningcheese-merchant]

Is it just me or does Burning Spice give me a lot of possessive yandere vibes?

Wait, hear me out: Yan! Burning Spice x Golden Cheese.

You're right on the money, brother 🙌🙌🙌 You understand completely.

One-sided BurningCheese can't NOT have Spice be a yandere. That level of pure evil, plus all that suspicious behavior I outlined in my ship masterpost? Foregone conclusion, practically. She didn't just steal his Soul Jam, she stole his fucking sanity. She's the air that he breathes. The blood pumping through his veins. She's the only reason he's got left to live. The ultimate truth of the universe is that they were destined from the moment she took his Soul Jam. He belongs to her, and she belongs to him. It's as simple as that.

That hooded subordinate that tagged along with her to Beast-Yeast? The only reason he's still alive is because Spice was too busy focusing on his beloved. He HATES that little worm. He wants his head on a pike YESTERDAY. How dare he look at her? How dare he speak to her? How dare he smile and laugh and reminisce with her? This won't do. No, no, no.

Her friends, the other heroes? Absolutely not. Where were they when she lost everything? While she succumbed to grief and delusion for all those years? When she awoke in empty ruins? HE was there, in a way. By her side, through their connection via the Soul Jam. He's already done so much for her. She's always been in his thoughts, in his heart. The only thing keeping him going inside that prison was her. The thought of her. Her image, her voice, the unspoken promise between them... That promise to finally meet, to battle, to become one. Did THEY do anything like that for her? Did THEY hunger for her day and night like he did? Like he still does? She doesn't need them, they're all failures. They're WEAK. He isn't.

Her kingdom? Her people? All dead, you say? Slaughtered like pigs, stitched back together and stuffed into golden caskets in a feverish, feeble attempt at self-soothing? GOOD. She doesn't need them, either. WEAKLINGS. FOOLS. Had it not been that vile witch, it would've been him instead, because he can't stand the thought of her caring for anything and anyone else but him. She was enough for him, she was his entire world, why can't he be the same to her? How could anyone else understand her? Love her? Please her? HE can do those things. HE knows her, HE loves her, HE wants her, HE needs her, more than any of them ever did or ever will.

He broke out of prison for her. He sent his soldiers on a back-breaking hunt for her. He waited, and waited, and waited - in that tree, in that container, in his tomb, on his throne, for hours and hours and hours, for her. Just for her. He'd NEVER waste a single second of his time like this for anyone else. No one's ever captivated him like this before. Inspired him, hypnotized him. Not even when he was still a hero. She's different. She truly is a goddess. HIS goddess. They're two halves of one whole. So different, but so much alike in so many ways. It is destiny. THEY are destiny.

And if he has to resume his reign of terror, if he has to crush every spice under his command, if he has to comb every inch of Beast-Yeast- no, the WORLD - in search of her, if he has to raze what little remains of her civilization to the ground, if he has to rip all of her friends to pieces, if he has to beat that absolute truth into her himself, then SO FUCKING BE IT!

Haha delusional mass murdering stalker go brrr

Hope this unwarranted writing ramble satisfies you lol

[lykos-with-a-gun]

The Mandela effect AU: vol 2

So I'm done w/ my meal, didn't expect for ppl to actually like it so uh yeah.

Warning: the daily warning of this chapter is that there are gonna be many dead ppl and suicide (is Sarah's timeline what did you expect, my Sarah is very depressed) (also Thatcher is mentioned)

Summary: Sarah Heathcliff isn't having a good day, mainly because is Mark's birthday and Cesar won't take her to the graveyard to see him.

☺︎—————————————————☹︎

July 20, 1998

It was a cold morning, and at around 5:20 AM Sarah Heathcliff was staring emptily at the calendar.

It was Mark's birthday

Mark who was no longer there was born in this day at this hour. But Sarah could not go to the graveyard by herself, Cesar told her so.

And Cesar was too busy caring about his mom, his mother who has attempted suicide multiple times, and trying to forget that horrible day where he called a Mark that was already dead.

Sarah had attempted multiple times bargaining with Cesar, many days, and now that day came, and she could not do anything about it

She didn't like that, not at all.

Many things where whispered on her ear by fake things who didn't exist, many of them where already whispered to her before by her hallucinations, so she didn't really mind.

She didn't like being ten, that maded her feel horrifyingly weak. And it was unacceptable.

She did not want to be weak

She wore his brother's sweatshirt that was a bit too big for her, some black pants and gray shoes.

She grabbed a bag in which she had put a birthday gift to Mark, who was no longer alive, and fled from her parents house, them who where asleep, to go to the graveyard by herself.

And without a word, she was already outside the house, going to the graveyard.

———

The streets of Mandela where empty as usual, the whole alternates thing have stole the joy that used to be on the streets, a joy she never got to know.

She grabbed a couple of flowers along the way, a rose, a magnolia, and a daisy.

The graveyard was not that far, but the silence and the constant warnings Cesar gave her made it look like it was. Very odd.

She told herself along the way many things, like "will he like it?", but half of those where delusions where he was alive.

"My brother would have been alive if it wasn't because of that damm police officer" she whispered to herself, maybe placing the guilt on others would cease her pain, right?

Her steps, the trees and a couple birds where the only audible things in that street, it was really pretty, she supposed as she observed around.

She finally reached to the graveyard

———

"Hi brother", she said to a grave — Mark's grave, "happy birthday..."

She stared at his grave for a bit, then continued "I brought you some flowers and a gift. So you... So you won't feel alone in your birthday.." She finally said after placing the flowers and gift on his grave.

"Cesar told me to not come here because I was 'too young'... But.. But I came anyway because.. I really wanted to see you" she said, her small voice almost breaking.

Her voice was the only thing audible there, no birds, not even the trees, just her and her brother who was not there anymore.

She spent a lot time talking, talked for hours, there standing in front of a grave that could not hear nor answer her in any way.

That until a familiar voice knocked in

"Sarah? What the hell are you doing here!?"

She turned back to see Cesar, in a black jacket with red shirt.

"Cesar i-" she tried

"Not even try," he interrupted "didn't I told you to not come alone? Your parents are gonna hate me"

"You can tell them I went with you!" She said

"But I 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 tell them you where coming with me!" He said back

"Just..." He paused , mediating his words at the thought that she was just ten and sighed "... What where you even doing here in the first place?"

"Wishing a happy birthday to mark..." Sarah answered

"Why didn't you just told me that?" Cesar said

"You said no." Sarah said back

"You just said you where going to the graveyard" Cesar said

"Good point" Sarah responded.

They both sat along Mark — his grave — quietly, saying nothing.

There was no need for conversation in that moment.

At least not now.

Happy birthday, Mark Heathcliff.

☹︎———————————☺︎

Dayum, this was surprisingly easier, Cesar salad and Sarah boss gurl are traumatized here

So uh summary: Sarah wants to wish Markie (which is still definitely dead) a happy b'day.

Note: in this volume Sarah is 10, but in next she's gonna be a teen, because the order of volumes sucks

[sheeezu]

Hiii Hani :)

I’m not even sure how to phrase my question, or if it’s even a question, maybe it’s more of a need to reassurance.

About 2-3 years ago, at my mental & physical rock bottom where I was literally nearing death as my body was shutting down, I discovered law of assumption and Neville Goddard. And I think at that moment, I grasped at it like it was my lifeline - I didn’t even consider whether it was too good to be true, I was desperate, so I obeyed. I feel like now looking back at it, I’m embarrassed 😭 my dedication to the law saved my life in the most delusional way possible. As a person that didn’t have much to lose and possibly everything to gain, I was in it 100%, and lowkey I was brain dead because of malnutrition so I ate up every single possibility of living my best life on my terms.

I don’t want to go into too much detail because I’m embarrassed as hell. Anyway, what I want to say is that at that time I truly believed everything was possible, that I was in control of everything, everything around me was an extension of me, I’m basically some god and I can bend and create the reality as I please with no limits. Even after I saw the complete opposite happening in 3D, I didn’t even waver, because I knew, or thought, it wasn’t true. Anyway, after like 7-8 months of my daily devoted delusion I got a harsh reality check, and obviously all my faith crumbled lol and I got faced with the truth that I’m just a human with no power I believed I had. The unwavering and uttermost belief in the law of assumption saved my life, but nothing I so wholeheartedly believed I was going to achieve came true.

On the other hand, even after all that I’ve experienced with loa, I still want to believe some subliminals I’ve listened to a few years ago had power to in a way shape my physical reality, but maybe again I’m just deluding myself. There was an instance when my cousin’s sudden brain aneurysm ruptured a few months ago, she was in a coma, and the doctors said she’s going to die or become a vegetable at best. They’ve repeated that multiple times, but it never resonated with me, I knew that wasn’t going to be the case. As of today, my cousin is walking, talking, laughing, being a normal person. She just has memory issues, but I believe it they should pass still. I’m still scared to believe I could’ve “manifested that”, I’m scared of giving myself hope again when it could’ve been just a coincidence.

But, god, I still want to believe shifting is real. Even though, again, it sounds too good to be true. But then it’s crazy that so many people would be lying about it, no? I’m scared of putting my all into believing it just to be disappointed and faced with a reality again, a reality of having no power. I’m scared to even attempt to do it, because I know that if it’s real, it’s not hard, and I have this (once again, maybe delusional) feeling that it wouldn’t be hard for me. Whenever I read about people struggling with shifting for years, it doesn’t resonate with me. I feel sorry for them, but I have this inner feeling that if shifting is real, struggling for years to achieve it wouldn’t be the case for me. But it’s scary how similar it sounds to the delusional me that I was these 2-3 years ago.

I’ve never gotten this off my chest, I obviously can’t tell this to anyone in my life without sounding insane, even though people still wonder what happened these 2-3 years ago that caused me to still be alive. I’m sorry for dumping this all on you, I hope it’s not too heavy and you don’t mind it 😭 if you could have any advice, reassurance, anything that could help me not be afraid to try again, I’d be extremely grateful. I’m scared of missing out, but I’m even more scared of realizing I’ve planted a seed in my brain of a dream that could never become true.

It feels so good to see my name being used, hello-! First of all, imagine we're both having a calm conversation, over tea, you laid out your points and so will i. while loa is an important part of existential identity, it is just the name of a practice. I myself, am not centered around loa since it requires patient, not that loa requires it, the act of performing it can if it's information is misinterpreted. (basically i dont bother), therefore can i speak boldly and pick on "this" or "that" which you did wrong while performing loa? no. Reality's definition is on a blurred line. Tell me anon, what else argument you have which can define existence, what can you bring to the table which doesn't cross over to the "delusional" category? genuine question. isn't the concept of individual's own creation of reality not the most defining one? hence events are unfolding orderly, hence we are awake and alive in this moment, hence it'll keep raining until some logical aspect cancels it out. why do religious' people's prayer work? it's their assumption that whoever hears it has the unquestioned power to fulfil them, just as long as they think they're worthy enough on the receiving end. Isn't a form of manifestations? Everything which we chose to believe, and don't attach the tag of "out of ordinary", "loa", "assuming", "trying", "doing", in order words not making in seem as if our beliefs are being built by ourselves for specific purposes or motives then we'll notice those things ARE ALREADY THERE, like how manifestors affirm "i already have ___" those things already present, sun, mood stars and sky are a form of manifestation in which our belief unfolded in a natural way. I believe shifting is creation of reality, since we have been creating every little moment by ourselves. Therefore there is no "if" or "But" regarding it, reality is created when YOU create it yourself, take it or leave. It's not the "i prayed to the universe to let me-" "Oh! dear subconscious please allow me-!" just pure utter control and power, when you act upon it. My dm are open for you anon, if something is still amiss.

[cutpaperbleedswater]

My final thesis on Gale bitch-boy Hawthorne

It’s no secret the majority of the fandom would like to pay Gale a visit and pull out his guts, but is it entirely for the right reason?

Yes I massively understand how his hand in the design of the bomb that murdered Prim and the flippant way he did anything but apologise with his heart and soul to Katniss can really create an itch. To Katniss, we know Prim was absolutely everything, the sun and the moon, to her and she had trusted Gale for so many years to help her keep her sister shining as bright as their world allowed only to have him be the so said ‘cause’ of her death an absolute betrayal both of trust and character. Even if Prim wasn’t in the field, the idea itself is already so morally wrong that you would probably slap the thought out of your head. He tries to dust it off as necessary to a war when Katniss sees the plans but was it, really? Prims death is not souly Gale’s fault at all but we see why Katniss reacts so strongly too it, her hunting partner of four years, her fellow squad member, one of the two people Katniss considered friends, she trusted him with her sister, asking him to keep her alive if she didn’t make it in the Games and to have him even sticking a pinkie in the plans of Prim’s demise. Another point that is mentioned in the books is that he didn’t order the bombs to go off and he couldn’t as he was trapped, with no communication nor knowledge within Katniss’s struggling squad but the incentive is all the same. The worst moral crime Katniss (and thereby, the reader) could think of and attributes it to him who doesn’t say anything and leaves her for a better life for himself while she is at the helms of the skirt of reality.

His entire character in mockingjay was really unfair. When Katniss has the audacity to make another friend, who more so understands the turmoil inside her head, he acts cold about it, dare one say, childishly. He does earn a small redemption point when he defends Peeta after his first interview but we don’t know the motives. He distances himself from Katniss and acts like it’s her fault, failing to realise there is a gap there, one that came to be after the end of her first Games but he wilfully tried to ignore. He hunts with Katniss, arguably their only common ground in the events of the book after their families appear reasonably safe. Gale’s goals appear to prioritise winning the war and can’t except when Katniss doesn’t share that, focused more on Peeta’s absence and coming to grips with being a doll for another child which only aligns with his when Peeta is back and she sees that she loves someone who she decides no longer exists and runs away, into Gales arms, his lips which he sadly says doesn’t really count like by that point he still hopes but is wearing off the delusion. He makes an off centred remark about why Katniss cares so much for her prep team that causes yet more fissures in the chasm between them which is interesting when only moments before, they acted as two bodies/one mind. When he offers to kill Peeta during the active war, it’s viewed (most likely) more to him as putting down a rabid dog with rabies learning to cope around the illnesses, picking up the pieces when Katniss refused, still seeing the humanity in Peeta even purely out of delusion. Gale attempts to read her stance on the situation and is incorrect or could it be he truly somewhat cared for Peeta by proxy of Katniss, when he defends him to her? Yet later on he proves how well he knows hee during his conversation with Peeta where the point that she will only choose who proves their use to her which is both callous and utterly correct which annoys Katniss immensely and presents his fear of no longer being relevant to her.

Catching Fire, kissing her, not a cool move and claiming he ‘had to do it at least once’ means nothing. He sees the difference in his friend but ignores it as he knows that there are things Katniss has survived without him, feeding their family and general life no longer the case. He strives to stay relevant to her so she doesn’t start relations with her Co Victor and Mentor, who can understand way more than he can. But as the mining quotas increase, his opportunity decrease, only one day a week he is allowed with her, in their sanctuary. He relies on Katniss, begrudgingly, to make sure his family have available food and necessary items, like he promised Katniss to do with her family had she not walked out. Gale, in his own blind way, manages to gaslight Katniss into assuming she loves him after watching her perform a whole romance with Peeta that help keeps him alive, which she waits a while to bring it up to him. The fact that it’s never mentioned they the Hawthornes attend dinner/lunch at the Everdeens house could allude to his sourness or something weirder as when he is recovering from being whipped, there is no mention of his family. I know it’s stated that there’s bad snow but they aren’t mentioned at all maybe showcasing the separation in Katniss’s mind between Gale and his family. When he is whipped, all three D12 Victors impose none other than for what Gale means to Katniss and help until he is discharged to Ms Everdeens care and Katniss sits by his side and holds his hand as he sleeps, eventually kissing him, assumingly safe in the knowledge he will never know but he does.

In the Hunger Games, Gale and Katniss’s relationship is way better defined and more jokey, friendly like. They have inside jokes, shared goals and fears, same responsibilities. They have the same pressure but the moment Katniss is at the risk of greeting death, again, he tries to tell her to come back by saying killing an animal and human are still the same basic principle, seeming to already accept the barbarism the Games command without setting foot in the arena, perhaps for holding the opinion that what he does is harder as the main provider for a family of five. He understands the Games concept exceptionally well but the moment he has to attribute real people too it in any way sympathetic, he is unable and unwilling, removing the savagery of core human kind and our individual core beliefs they make us human in our own right. He drags Prim away from the scene of her big sister volunteering to essentially die for her, as a salute to Katniss in a way of sorts, demonstrating how he protects what’s hers.

We learn that all along he had romantic intentions, going so far as to want children, towards Katniss that she was as blind as a bat too and he loved the closed off version of Katniss that was his who had time in her life to smile, such as the incident when Gale realised he minded. He doesn’t make any move, reasons unknown but he punishes her for it anyway in a way over the series, for not choosing him, for loving a Merchant, Traitor, liar and other. For choosing the bakers kid over him even with all Katniss and Peeta went through together. He doesn’t seem to like Peeta but not hate him as seen at points made early on, it’s likely he envies Peeta and is jealous over Katniss or he knows he loosely owes Peeta for getting Katniss home, a debt he understandably despises and wishes it to be left unpaid such as Katniss not thanking Peeta for the bread.

To conclude; Gale is emotionally constipated and immature and a slight romantic. Katniss has a rather cynical outlook on everything in the world and acts so much older than she is, already weighed down with life and she seems to understand the childlessness that want is, never seeming to entertain an out to a life she gets thrust into. Gale seems to think he can use this to get an advantage which he can’t but he shows immaturity over it and relentless that Katniss doesn’t have the passion for. He can’t seem to read a room. Doesn’t weigh in morality and logic in the same scale. He’s 18/19 during the series and still seems to be a bit behind a 16/17 year old in the terms of world view. His hope for a life with him and Katniss sort of protecting his mind from some of the rougher life aspects. He seems to fully mature when the bombs drop but acts the opposite to Katniss with hurtful yet accurate statements directed to her heart left, right and centre.

[sabweenie]

so its the middle of the night and i'm rereading one of the earlier sections of the yuri zine and i come back to this quote, "sometimes when looking at my self is as painful as staring directly into the sun, my solution has typically been to study the reflection in the moon" and it all just sort of hit me. holy hell. inside mari. to study yourself through another pair of eyes, in her case. this language unlocked so many different ways of understanding inside mari that i just started scribbling on my ipad until next thing i knew an hour had passed and i ran out of white space and how did i even get here? anyways. here is the batshit insane looking page where i dumped all the thoughts i'm going to attempt to organize them here? this image is just so funny to me now i thought i should include it.

the horror of Looking at your own self.

a lot of yuri zine talked about reading and interacting with yuri as a form of self identification. and how those bring up both good feelings (gender validating) and bad feelings (confronting yourself and your regret and your shame for whatever reasons you may have). both as a consumer of this media but also found within the characters themselves in the stories we read. considering how the big reveal of the entire story is about how. in an attempt to identify herself, mari was forced to truly look at herself. something she literally couldn't handle. throughout the zine, the authors all in one way or another touch upon the idea of how uncomfortable it is to confront yourself. to look at yourself. its shown through jennifer and needy's relationship in jennifer's body, which i hadn't thought about but one of the essays in this zine explains it so well. it's shown through when readers see too much of themselves in certain characters. this feeling of discomfort exists both in and out of the texts we talk about. and how this sort of leads into the understanding that yuri is "the relationship to absence, to projection." the yuri that of inside mari is how she absents herself as a way to allow herself to love Yori (to love girls in general). (i want to emphasize how in allowing herself, it implying the norm for her was denying herself, stopping herself, punishing herself for feeling the way she did) because the whole time, the mari we see is just mari the whole time. not komori body swapped into mari's body. the mind warping mental gymnastics she goes through to live this sort of delusion allows her to be a boy who's just trapped in a girl's body. it allows her own self to love girls and accept this because. it's not mari thinking these things, it's komori who is a boy so. it's allowed. this also speaks to Shuzo Oshimi’s thoughts on being a girl. the ways mari goes about identifying her self while at the same time struggling with the mere act of Looking at her self is so yuri. i'm going to come back to this after i talk about Identity for a little bit hold on.

what is it that mari yearns for? what is it about gender?

mari's fragmented identity splits into three parts: fumiko, mari, and komori. her attachment to komori, the male identity she takes on stems from her hetero-patriarchal understanding of the world. she envies him for being able to experience sexuality and love girls in ways she feels she can't. but she ultimately abandons this identity too and exists as something separate from all three. or something that combines them all? the story ends with her alive and finally happy with herself. her attachment to komori's identity is less about his masculinity or maleness so to speak, but what she really desires is to love other girls in the specific (romantic, sexual) way he is allowed to in this society. her yearning is lesbian. i read her experience playing with gender not as her struggling with her own gender identity, but instead i felt that her beef was with the social performance of it all. i think she's a girl who doesn't feel connected to the daily practices and rituals that signal femininity. explaining why she sort of.. forgets how to do makeup and dress herself when she exists as the clueless komori inside mari's body. she uses him to liberate herself from these expectations. maybe i'm just full of shit. maybe her gender is just lesbian after all. another essay in the yuri zine talks about how yearning is gay. yearning is queer and yearning is lesbian. that yearning isn't limited to wanting to be with someone, but wanting to be someone. to live life the way they do. which hey. is literally what mari ends up doing in this story. what she yearns for is a reality that cannot exist (or rather, one that she cannot confront/reconcile with yet) she cannot look at herself, so she absents herself in order to allow herself to pursue her own desire. she felt like she couldn't pursue her desire in her current self, in her current standing as a girl in society.

what does it mean to feel like a person? to feel human?

i need to watch that interview everyone talks about "yuri made me human" because i already feel that truth in my core but i don't even know what the hell they're talking about in that interview. from the zine, "is the fantasy of yuri about finding a way to become a person. when you don't feel like one?" yes. but. what does it mean to feel like a person? in mari's case, which person? her First person? the one that died with her grandmother and replaced with a new name and identity by a mother she cannot understand or bond with? her Second person? mari? the person she grows to hate? the one that is forced to perform these ritualistic practices that signal femininity but is never allowed to desire it for herself? her Third person? komori? the depressed pathetic sexually frustrated hikikomori who is too stupid to see how good he has it* that he doesn't have to fend off boys who only objectify her? that he can have a girlfriend and kiss her and hold her hand in public without punishment? the komori that ultimately broke under the heavy weight of the truth that is not her. she is not him. she is no one for a while. yuri is everything and yuri is nothing. in fact, when mari is in that coma or whatever, yori desperately wants her back again, wants her awake, and she begs “don’t disappear” until she wakes up into someone again. someone for yori. but most importantly, someone for herself (the first time i read this, i felt sort of disappointed? that yori and mari didn’t get to live together forever but those feelings didn’t last long... i don’t actually want that for them. in fact i actually really love that they were able to reconcile their feelings for each other and also end on a note where yori goes to school and mari seems to actually be happy and secure with her own self) anyways. she struggles to connect to her fractured identities until through her growth as a character she not only starts feeling like a person but becoming one, probably for the first time.

inside mari is fascinating to look at and unpack from a yuri pov. i loved thinking about how this too was yuri, that she envies komori for his ability to pursue and love women. the way she projected onto him. the way she wanted something nonexistent and intangible. the way she yearned through imagining she existed as something other than herself. the way she shattered when faced with herself. the way she existed not as a participant, nor an observer. the way she loved yori so much she became everyone and no one.

in conclusion please read yuri zine and please also read yaoi zine 1 and 2 they are genuinely so good. bless the minds of everyone who worked on these.. the yaoi yuri theorists i look up to.... there's no real conclusion to this ramble. i hate conclusions. i'm done. good night...

[elvendria]

Clean

(re-releading this because it got hidden the first time)

AU Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part Four

Summary:

You return to Hawkins after a few years in the middle of the night during the summer with your 4-year-old sister in tow, thinking the two of you could fly under the radar and settle in at Forest Hills Trailer Park. You thought you could get by without bumping into your old enemy, Eddie Munson, the town freak.

But you weren't always enemies, in fact, there was a time when you two were closer than anything.

Eddie dreams of making it big, you just dream of making it out of here alive.

Look, take willows age with a pinch of salt, I have numerical dyslexia but it'll make sense I swear

\\enemies - lovers//

There's some trigger warnings for stuff to do with willows birth, that's all I can say without giving away everything

((Warning I'm not from the US, so bare with me when it comes to states and such))

18+ MINORS DNI or I will be busting kneecaps, E.D, physical abuse, child abuse, runaways, the reader Joyce's ex-step-niece, Will and Johnathan's cousin, Joyce is Queen, Wayne is King, slow burn, gambling addictions, the reader is 20 and Eddie is 21, Chrissy is the villain but we stan Grace. Reader has a small scar on her lower torso. underage drinking, allusions to smut, no details of smut for obvious reasons, eventual smut in upcoming chapters, brief mention of Y/N

WC : ~5511~

part one part two part three part four

It was coming up to the middle of August, which meant one important thing was due to happen. The pinnacle of the year, the most sensational holiday of all time, the biggest event to ever rock the town of Hawkins.

"It's my birthday it's my birthday it's my birthday!" The little rocket herself was zooming around the kitchenette, hair a whiz as you walked out, rubbing sleep from your eyes. You reached your hands out, holding her shoulders to keep her in place. 

You were seriously gonna need to encourage her to join track or cross country or something.

"Tomorrow it is, but today we need to get you some birthday clothes, so how about we go to that shop in town? The one where all the fairy tale people give their clothes?" It was a thrift store; you were almost certain Willow knew that, but you weren't about to crush the delusions of a soon to be 5 year old. Especially one that's starting kindergarten in a matter of weeks.

Oh god, she's starting kindergarten. In weeks.

You pushed the thought to the back of your mind, the last thing you needed was to be an emotional wreck in front of her. Joyce had helped you with documentation for enrolling her, but it had never really set in. And it wouldn't. Not today.

Her little eyes lit up as you said that, and her bouncing started up again, causing you to grin and roll your eyes. You loved this kid, and her ability to be excited about anything.

"Come on then munchkin, let's hit up the fairy tale store.''

When you reached the store, you hopped from the car and almost bounced up the sidewalk, a bundle of joy and giggles and sunshine. Willow was adamant about getting something pretty and sparkly for starting school, and once again your heart tugged in your ribs.

4 years ago, you were holding her in your arms, cradling her as she cooed up at you, flexing her fingers and scrunching her nose a little. She was perfect to you, you knew that the second you held her in the hospital, moments after her birth. 

And now, she was running off to get sparkly pink shoes to go with a tutu she wanted to wear on her first day. Something to match the fairy wings you already told her she couldn't wear. One of the many meltdowns you've managed to navigate in the past few weeks in the run-up.

Entering the store, you were hit with a new but familiar scent of clothes and dust, the room light and airy and full of clothing racks. Row by row of different colours hanging side by side. You wondered about them, oftentimes finding your imagination ran away from you.                         

You would hold up blouses, covered in dainty flowers, and imagine a woman wearing this to a job interview. You pictured her leading a room full of men, becoming so powerful that she no longer needed the shirt because she had a full wardrobe now. 

A pair of shoes, leather old and cracked. You pictured someone spending every day of their lives keeping them in pristine condition until they were too old to keep them clean.

Or a white linen dress, that reached your knees. The kind that flowed out and moved delicately. You could see yourself, walking the aisle of a small chapel to see a tall dark-haired man at the end of it, ring-clad and- 

No, no you couldn't go there, you couldn't imagine what your life might've been if Eddie hadn't fucked everything up.

You decided you'd get the dress anyway because it hugged your curves just right. Willow was having a small party, organised courteously by Wayne. He had become like an uncle to her, the way he had for you. You'd wear the dress there, just something simple and plain.

Browsing the racks, you found Willow holding a raglan t-shirt, with black sleeves and a white front. It had a design that wasn't her usual style, but she seemed... drawn to it like she'd seen it before.

"You like that shirt honey?'' The design was okay, and realistically she could wear it to school without scaring the other kids, it's not unlike something from a storybook.

"Well, if you like it, let's get it then!" You scooped her up in your arms, balancing her on your hip as you walked through the store, pointing out other items as you played your little game with her, before heading to the counter to pay. 

It wasn't expensive, one of the many joys of a thrift store, but when you saw the guy behind the till ring up the white dress you felt your chest lurch, like you wanted to pull it back. A voice in your head that forever lingered there whispered to you.

You're not good enough

It'll never look right on you 

You're too big to wear something like that

Your skin felt hot, you hadn't had those thoughts since a few months after Willow was born, and they hadn't led to the greatest of outcomes. But you were better now, you had to be, especially for her.

Paying, you pushed it all down, heading back to the car so you could get home and out of the blistering heat that seared through your shoes. The rubber soles felt like they were beginning to melt off, and you wanted to get back to the trailer so you could take a cool shower and a nap.

Okay, maybe the cold shower wasn't directly related to the heat.

It seemed that no matter where you went in Hawkins,  the air conditioning was always broken. Whether it was your car, your job, or your home, the heat followed you like a curse. Although having lived in Nevada for a few years, it was safe to say you were accustomed to it. 

What you weren't accustomed to was the lack of air. At least in the desert, there was a bit of a breeze, albeit it was usually coated in sand and grit. But here in Indiana, it was like the heat hung heavy in the air. It lingered in every breath, every movement. You could feel it like droplets clinging to your skin as you walked.

The whole aspect of hanging up laundry in the scorching sun was maybe not the best idea. The lifting and bending and stretching to hang up bedsheets and clothes were making you sweat like crazy, your shirt and jeans stuck to your skin. But you didn't care, all you wanted was for everything to be perfect for Willow's birthday.

You had just finished hanging up your bedsheets, stepping back to get something else from the basket on your hip when you looked down, two black combat boots sticking out from underneath them.

"Been wanting to see you tangled in your sheets for a while, didn't think I'd have to wait till laundry day though."

You hated that you could tell his voice anywhere, that you could tell it was him from his breathing, from the way he made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You hated that you never wanted that feeling to end.

"What do you want?" You were talking gruffly, arguing with a fitted sheet before just throwing it over the line, catching a glimpse of him as it flew up.

"I want to talk." He pushed past the sheets until he was standing in front of you, his dark brown eyes like small storms. 

You moved away from him, balancing the basket on your hip as you began putting up Willow's clothes, stained from an argument with a juice box that nobody won. "I don't know what you mean, there's nothing to talk about." Okay so you were being stubborn, but you couldn't help it.

"Oh really? So you dropping to your knees in my job to suck me off meant noth-" Your hand flew up, covering his mouth to prevent him from saying another word. If his eyes didn't give away his enjoyment at your reaction, the smile pressing into your palm sure did.

"That never happened, you hear me? It was a mistake." When you were sure he wouldn't talk again, you removed your hand from his mouth, only for him to grab your wrist and hold it near his face, breathing hot on your skin.

"So what was it then, a mistake or something that never happened? Because I've got the imagery ingrained into my mind pretty damn hard." His eyes bore into yours, and you despised how weak your knees got. He shouldn't have this effect on you, you promised yourself he wouldn't.

You tore your hand back, ignoring him as you continued to hang clothes up, your shirt riding up on the front. You hadn't noticed until he spoke, until he pointed out something.

"Where did you get that scar?"

Your breath stopped, your hands stilled, and your mind began to race for an answer. No one had ever spotted it before, you always kept it covered.

"It wasn't there before you left. Did... Did your dad do it to you?" 

If only he knew how wrong he was. 

Flashback to 4 years ago

"There's been a complication." 

On this day of all days, that was not what you wanted to hear.

"Is everything okay?" You grabbed for your mom's hand, fingers clasped and clammy.

"She's going to be fine, but we need to operate, her blood pressure is spiking and she's losing oxygen. If we leave it any longer we put her at risk of a heart or brain condition." The doctor spoke quickly, stepping back and in turn scaring you further.

All these words that you didn't want to hear.

After that, it was a blur, the sound of squeaky wheels and the bright lights causing you to remember very little else about that day.

Back to the current day. 

"Hello? You're just staring at me now and you look a bit nuts."

You were frozen solid until he said that, quickly rushing to pull your shirt down, covering your scar. You didn't show it, not for insecurity reasons, but purely because having to explain it was so much worse.

"I'm fine, I have to go." You hadn't finished with the clothes, but you needed to go, you needed out of here. "I need some air."

"We're outside." Eddie held your bicep, not gripping it tightly, but the touch alone was enough to stop you. "Please… talk to me." 

What could you do? What could you say? The man you've loved your whole life was standing before you, looking at you like you were a bird, ready to fly at a moment's notice. You felt like you could, like at the smallest breeze, the slightest movement, you would be gone, flying to brighter skies and away from this pain.

"What do you want from me? What more is there to say? Have you found a part of my dignity you haven't crushed yet?" Your words were venomous, uncontrolled and spiteful. Your mother would be proud.

He stood there like a deer in the headlights, looking at you with his lips slightly parted. You wished you never looked at them, wished you never fell into his sticky maple eyes and got stuck.

"Ever since I met you, I knew we were going to be good for each other. Wayne saw it too, even my Dad said it when he was in between highs. I never saw it… not until freshman year." He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly seeming nervous to speak.  

The air around you both grew tense and muggy to the point that you weren't sure if it was the conversation or the heat. 

"That's when I knew it. That's when I realised that…"

He lingered, his eyes downcast and refusing to meet your own.

"Realised what Eddie?" You were quieter than you were meant to be, softer and more gentle than you were mere moments before. You knew this wasn't going where you've always wanted it to because there's no way it could.

It was as if all the air had been pulled from the world. Your throat was dry, almost like you had crossed a thousand deserts with no water. "Eddie…"

"Yes?" His eyes were hopeful, maybe because you'd answered him, maybe simply because you said his name. Whatever it was, it made it so much harder to say what you were about to say.

To look at him was to see the embodiment of a breaking heart. A heart Eddie didn't even realise still beat. He had been mad at her for so long, that he figured his heart had become as calloused as his hands. 

For some reason, this made you mad. How could he look so… so… perfectly broken, when it was you who had endured the pain and suffering that he had dealt you?

"When you stopped the letters, when you sent them back unopened, I went through every fucking stage of grief there was. I accepted that you didn't care, and I got better Eddie. I got clean. You were the most addicting, fucked up thing in my life and I got better, I got clean from you." You were panting as you spoke, chest heaving as every word carried more and more weight, yet somehow relieving all of it from your shoulders.

"Christ I've loved you for as long as I can remember and you never cared because you're an entitled selfish asshole who only thinks about himself! Moving away was the best thing to happen to me because it opened my eyes and showed me that you were never going to love me back." You were sobbing now, cheeks red from your tears.

He didn't speak, he didn't say a word. He just started at you. You needed him to talk, to show you that he listened to you, that he understood how angry you were, but all he did was stare at you with a neutral look on his face. You wanted him to be mad, you wanted him to yell at you till you felt it in your lungs.

"Jesus Eddie, fucking shout at me, scream, saying something don't just stand there and look at me!" You shoved his chest, but he was like a solid wall, unmoving.

You thumped on his chest with your fists, looking, no, begging for some sort of reaction. You didn't even realise Eddie stepping towards you, hands clasped around your wrists to stop you from hitting him any harder. You didn't notice him almost pressed against you, not until he had cupped your face, thumb hesitantly tracing your bottom lip before speaking in a hushed whisper.

"You know… you're as beautiful as the day I thought I lost you forever." 

You barely had time to seek out his eyes with your own before he kissed you, soft and needy, unlike the first kiss between you when you came back. Unlike the kiss in the garage. No, this kiss was something else, it meant something else.

It was as if a windstorm had opened around you. A rush of adrenaline surged through your veins. Your hands instinctively weaved into his hair, pulling him closer as his palms rested on your skin, delicately placed between your shoulder blades and the small of your back.

It was the type of kiss you'd read about in stories or watch in movies. Where the protagonists' problems all vanish in an instant from the touch of two pairs of lips. You were oblivious to your surroundings.

Maybe you shouldn't have been.

Eddie pulled away for air, looking at you with a heaviness in his eyes. "You walked in one day wearing this yellow sundress, and all the guys were staring at you. I felt this intense rage like I wanted to make sure no one looked at you like that except me."

You were confused, and it must have shown on your face. His lips were slightly swollen, and you were guessing yours were the same.

“You asked me and I never answered you." Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, he looked at you with a fondness you've never seen from anyone before. "I realised that I just don’t think I can see myself with anyone other than you for the rest of my life.” 

You couldn’t explain the feeling that spread through you. You knew this shouldn’t happen, there were so many reasons you two couldn’t happen. You had worked so hard on yourself, convinced yourself that all your problems lay in the hands of a 16-year-old boy from a backwoods town in Indiana.

But now… now you weren’t so sure. You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

“Eddie, I…” You were cut off by a voice calling out, a high-pitched noise calling out for him. You’d recognise that sickly sweet screech anywhere.

“Eddie baby? Where are you?!” Chrissy called out from the front of the trailer, unable to see the sight of you together from where she stood. 

“Eddie you have a girlfriend.” You placed your hands on his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. There were so many things you had to tell him, so many things that needed to be said.

“Only if you’re saying yes.” His voice was quiet, making your heart thump as he leaned back down. You thought he might kiss you again, but instead, he leaned in, whispering in your ear. The feel of his breath on your skin made you shiver despite the heat outside. 

“And I’m hoping you will.” He pressed a final kiss to your cheek, leaving you unable to comprehend what just happened as he disappeared behind the clothesline once again.

You were so completely fucked.

Chrissy wasn’t stupid.

Well no, let me correct that, she wasn’t entirely stupid, despite her dumb cheerleader personality. 

She knew when she was losing, and ask anyone who’s ever been up against her and you’ll find out that Chrissy was a sore loser. 

Despite his efforts to hide it, Chrissy knew from the day the girls’ car broke down that Eddie was distracted. She’d always known he wasn’t interested in her for anything more than her flexibility and eagerness to have sex with him, but this was something different. 

She knew from the day in the garage that they were fucking, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to know what a blowjob sounded like. She had been standing behind the wall for a minute or two before making her presence known, wanting to give the girl a chance to at least make herself look presentable.

Ever since that day Eddie hadn’t touched her, hadn’t even wanted her to touch him. She was losing him to some white trash lowlife and there was nothing she could do. 

Except for one thing.

Chrissy had a flair for ruining lives and getting her way. In a way, she was quite proud of what she could accomplish when she set her mind to it. And she was one hell of an actress too, given that she was able to convince Jason Carver that ‘no, he didn’t have a micropenis and yes, he was the best thing to happen to the Hawkins High Tigers.’

And so when she saw Eddie pull up outside and not immediately rush in to meet her, she ran to the window to see him going over to another trailer, her trailer, she felt her blood singe her veins. No one took her toys from her, no one stole what was rightfully hers. At least not until she was finished with it.

She walked out the door, intent on confronting them when she saw the kiss, the kind that she’d never gotten from Eddie or anyone for that matter.

And then she saw the kid's clothes, and her plan fell right into her lap.

Scurrying back into the trailer, she pretended to cry as she picked up the phone, finding the number in the phone book.

“Hello, hi, I hope I have the right number...”

The day of Willow's birthday was here, but you couldn’t sleep that night, your mind too active with thoughts of the previous afternoon. You didn’t know how someone could sleep when they had all this… emotion building up inside of them. You spent the night staring at your ceiling, and as a result, you were exhausted before the party even began.

Willow had donned her new t-shirt and a pair of black jeans you’d packed when you left. She looked adorable, even sporting a plastic princess crown you bought from the dollar store, waving the matching sceptre around like she was giving commands. Which she was.

“Look, Willa, I will get you a slice of birthday cake when the guests arrive, how does that sound?” You kneeled before her, hands on your thighs as she sat up in the soft brown lazy-boy armchair. She had been calling out for one all day and it was slowly turning your brain to mush.

She let out a little hum as if she was thinking it over, before answering with an enthusiastic “Okay!”, before going back to watching cartoons.

It wasn’t long afterwards that people started arriving. And by people I mean Eddie, Wayne and some of Eddie’s friends. Apparently, they were good with kids.

You remember some of them, particularly Steve Harrington, because who could forget the kid who came in freshman year of High School and immediately made the varsity basketball team? But the others you weren’t sure of. Yeah, you remembered faces, but names escaped you.

“Hiya, I’m Robin.” The girl came up to you, hand outstretched for you to shake. She had one of those friendly faces, an almost sunny disposition that radiated onto you. She was the only one you didn’t recognise, and you didn’t mind all that much.

Next was Steve and Nancy, your eyes going wide as they walked in and smiled at you, saying hi. You were almost certain they didn’t know who you were when you left, so seeing them in your dingy little trailer was quite a shock.

“I’ll be honest, never in my life did I expect to see the Steve Harrington standing in my doorway to come to a kids' birthday party.” You huffed a laugh, stepping aside to let them in. It was like a fever dream, watching the most popular guy in your sophomore year moving to sit on your couch, helping to blow up some balloons without ever being asked to. You remembered when he and Tommy H would give the nerds wedgies, Steve keeping lookout while Tommy stole someone's lunch money.

You also vividly remember Eddie breaking Tommys' nose when he tried to grope you at a school dance, but now probably wasn’t the time or place to bring it up.

A couple of kids showed up, early teens at best, all sitting on the floor. You knew some of them from being Will's friends and even babysat a few of them once or twice. Each of them came up to hug you, Will being last. His arms gripped you tight as if he was worried you’d disappear if he ever let go.

“It’s alright bud, I’m here, I’m not gonna leave again.” You squeezed him back, oblivious to the stare Eddie was giving you.

It was like your words were speaking to him directly. Like you were reassuring him that you were going to stick around. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his palms sweaty against his jean-clad thighs. He didn’t realise how worried he was about this whole situation until it was presented to his face. He’d lost you once, almost overnight. He’d been in this situation before, where you were just out of reach, slipping through his fingers.

He was determined that wouldn’t happen again.

You released Will, turning around and meeting Eddie’s eye. Normally he’d look away, maybe even make an awkward cough, but this time… this time he held your gaze, lips turned up ever so slightly in the corners. It made your insides flutter just seeing it.

“Okay, who wants cake?”

The party was going off without a hitch. Willow loved the tea party set you got her as well as the crayons and colouring book from Will. She’d even made sure to give everyone a cup before plonking herself down on the ground, waving her little wand ceremoniously to announce that they could start their tea.

But her favourite gift was one that made you tear up a little, only a small bit, but teary nonetheless.

“Hey Willa, I made you something, it's called a mixtape,” Eddie spoke gently, holding his hand out to help her up before lifting her onto his knee. It warmed your very soul to see them like this, even if the truth of it all lingered in the background. 

“What's that?”

“Well, it’s a bunch of songs that your sister and I used to listen to when we weren’t much older than you.” As he said that, he stared across at you, that same gentle smile returning. You remembered those days like they were yesterday, lying out on the dried patch of grass that passed as his lawn, listening to whatever tape you two could find. It was always a hit or miss, sometimes it would be some weird music you weren’t sure of, but other times… other times it was music that would seep into your bones, would melt over your skin like a fine film, coating you in a layer of bliss and peace despite the thumping bass and squealing guitars.

 You sat and watched her turn the gift over in her hands, watching as Eddie took her over to the stereo to show her how to use it. Soft notes filled the air first of all as Close to You by The Carpenters started playing. It wasn’t your usual style, but it was memorable for you. 

It was the song that played when you first realised how much you cared about Eddie. When you turned your head on that dry yellow grass, to see him staring right back at you.

You let time slip away, listening to the music as Willow came and grabbed your hand, wanting to do that dance where she just swung your arms back and forth. You were so involved with her that you hadn’t even heard the knock on the door until someone pointed it out to you.

That was when the dread kicked in.

You couldn’t explain it, you weren’t even sure why it had come over you suddenly, but with every step towards the door, your hands got clammier and clammier until eventually you pulled it open. It was then that you could’ve sworn on it, would’ve bet on it, that your heart now resided on the floor across the room. 

A woman stood before you, 40’s at least, blonde wispy hair turning grey at the roots. And behind her, stood a strawberry blonde she-devil with a grin so wicked it would make your skin crawl.

“Hi there, I’m Sandra with Child Protective Services, I received a call and would like to have a quick talk.” 

It didn’t take long for everyone to clear out, leaving only Eddie behind to see what was going on, and to console you if needed. He wasn’t going to leave you, not when something like this had landed in your lap.

“So it’s just you and…” Sandra flicked through her notes before speaking again. “Willow, is it?” 

“Yes, it’s just us here… I’m sorry I need to ask,” You shot Chrissy a look, your answer already cemented in place with every inching step she took towards Eddie. “Who called you?”

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information that we can’t release at this time.” She flicked through more notes before landing on what she was apparently looking for. “It says here that Willow was born in Nevada, is that correct?”

“Yes, she was born this day 5 years ago in Summerlin Hospital.” You rubbed your arms, wanting desperately to hold Willow, but for some reason, this demon of a woman wouldn’t let you.

“And is her father in the picture?” 

You froze, not entirely too sure how to answer that without spilling everything. You weren’t ready, and you’d never be ready, so how were you supposed to cough up now, in front of people who had no business in knowing? “We um… we left my parents in Nevada, they were… well they were abusive towards me growing up, I didn’t want that for her.” 

You thought you’d managed to get past the question, maybe even diverted the topic of conversation. If you could even class this a conversation, more like an interrogation.

“That’s not what I asked you, I asked you was Willow's father in the picture.” 

That was when you saw it in her folder, a copy of Willow’s birth certificate with only one name on it, scribbled messily by a nurse who had no business working in a hospital.

Then, just when it was all going horribly wrong, it got a whole lot worse.

“But Willow is her sister, they have the same parents, your question doesn’t make any sense.” Eddie piped up from the corner, and it took all your might not to tell him to shut the fuck up.

“Please allow her to answer the questions herself sir, your being here is a privilege, not a right.” If only she knew how wrong she was. If only she knew that he had every right to be here.

That was when the tears fell when you knew you couldn’t hold back the secrets any longer. You turned to Eddie, cheeks stained as all you could do was mouth “I’m sorry.” 

“No, her father wasn’t in the picture… we fell out of contact after I told him I was pregnant. But he’s back in it now.”

It was as if you were standing in a glass bowl, and suddenly it shattered around you, your whole world came crumbling down around you. You looked at Eddie, watched as it dawned on him what you were saying, staring as he worked the dates back in his head, face gone pale.

“Wait, I’m sorry I was called under the pretences that you had taken Willow from her parents. Are you telling me that Willow is your child?” Sandra looked at you, handing you a packet of tissues from her cracked leather bag.

“Yes, Willow is my daughter.”

After everything had come to light, it didn’t take long for Sandra to decide that there was no need for any inspection as it seemed that Willow was in a fit and loving home, something you could’ve told her from the start. You stood outside the trailer, Eddie and Chrissy just behind you as you watched her navy Pontiac drive off in a cloud of dust.

And as soon as she was gone, you turned to Chrissy, palm connecting with her cheek in a fit of rage.

“How dare you do that, how dare you try to have her taken from me? What have I ever done to you? I’ve stayed out of your way, I have done nothing towards you that warrants you being that spiteful, that hateful.” You went again, lunging at her, and you would have made it if it weren’t for Eddie grabbing you.

“Thank you, baby, I thought she was going to actually hurt me!” Chrissy said in her whiny high-pitched voice, pouting out her bottom lip as if to show that she was about to cry.

“Let me get this clear for you. We’re done. I never want to hear from you, hell I never want to even so much as see you again. We’re through.” He set you on the ground as Chrissy looked on shocked, annoyed that her stunt hadn’t resulted in lives being ruined while her own prospered, before spinning on her heel and walking away in a huff. You could only feel the terror and rage beginning to grow inside of you as he turned you to face him. “And as for you, I think it’s time we had a talk. A real one this time.” 

You wanted to protest, you wanted to kick and scream and cry and dig your heels in. You couldn’t have this conversation, you wouldn’t.

“What is there to talk about, your psycho bitch of an ex tried to have my kid taken away and failed, end of story.” You went to walk inside, stopping in your tracks when he spoke again.

“Our kid.”

Hearing him say it, like actually say it, wasn’t what you expected it to be. Instead of a ten-tonne boulder crashing onto you, it felt like a weight had been lifted.

“When were you gonna tell me Willows my kid too?”

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Only one more chapter to go!!

@vintagehellfire @1paire2vans @introvertedmouse @ms1oftheboys @ashlynnkennedy @poisonedluv @302rocks @micheledawn1975 @corrodedcoffincumslut @f-cklife @chloe-6123 @hellfirexwhore @caseyqdilla @alyisdead @winchester-angel @sunflowerabyss @badluckgirl @blackb4ts @tlclick73 @eddiemunsonsgf2 @rozxartaki @emilyslutface @them-cute-boys @ilovetaquitosmmmm @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @captainonaboat @lottie-90 @adaydreamaway08 @munsonmunster @thecomfortgoth @uglypastels @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @blueywrites (im honestly just tagging people i would really like to have read this.)

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 23

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader, brief one sided Lancel Lannister x Fem Reader. Disclaimer: While Lancel's age is unstated in the show, in the books he is canonically 17. However, since the show ages everyone up by 2-3 years and we've been going by Show ages instead of Book ages so far , Lancel in this fic would be 19-20.

SMUT: male masturbation )

AO3 version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

Lannister Reign over the continent seemed to be solidifying with every passing day One Baratheon brother dead, the other cast back into the sea. Jaime was off fighting for control of the Riverlands against the Stark pup. Joffrey on the throne with his grandfather as Hand to the King, and Cersei looming over all shoulders, waiting for something to do.

She needed a distraction. Something to take her mind off the thoughts barreling through her brain.

There were the usual concerns, of course. Her dreadful little brother. The Stark Girl, who was more use to them alive but sulked around the keep like a kicked dog.

Speaking of dogs.

She shook her head.

Don't think on that, there's no point to it.

And yet she couldn't stop herself. She pictured you that night, standing in the darkness of your quarters with knowing eyes that looked almost eager for the Queen to get closer. Cersei couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she had forced you into the Holdfast with the other ladies.

You'd still be here, of course.

But that look you gave Cersei. A look to chill the blood of even the most hardened of warriors. It was the look of a predator just waiting for its prey to move into the perfect position.

But that was nonsense, Cersei knew that.

You were devoted to her, even in anger. Each time Cersei sent you away, you had always come back. You never would have left her Queen's side if you hadn't been forced to.

This was the delusion Cersei labored under for weeks, even now despite the idea being brushed off by everyone else.

She brought her distress to her father and Joffrey, and both looked at her like she had grown a second head.

"Forgive me." Tywin squinted slowly as if he didn't understand. "But it is my understanding that upon marriage, a wife becomes as one with her husband both spiritually and legally. Lady Clegane is the man's wife, therefore there can be no issue of kidnapping."

"All the same" Cersei fumed, outraged that they would not see sense. "He should be found and hanged as a deserter. If we find him, we find Lady Clegane."

"We are at war" Joffrey scoffed, "We do not have the spare men to send after a stray dog and his bitch."

Cersei wanted to pull his ear for that. She had been unprepared for the harsh change in her dynamic with her son. He no longer listened to her and did not seek her advice or her counsel.

When he discovered the truth of Robert's many bastards, he sent the city watch to slaughter them all, grown and babes alike.

When Cersei heard of this, she was stunned. Yes, it solved the issue of the truth Jon Arryn discovered, but it also gave those who resented Lannister presence a rallying cry against Cersei and her family

"The Queen Slaughters Babies" Tyrion had said with a dark smirk.

Tywin insisted Cersei at least try to keep some kind of control over her son, but the boy king resisted with every attempt.

That made it sting all the more when Tywin himself succeeded where Cersei had failed with her child.

Tywin had him settled, more willing to thin before acting, and betrothed to Margery Tyrell, whom Cercei resented and watched carefully.

If you were here, Cersei thought, you would know what to say to cheer her. You would call Margery a snub-nosed little girl and laugh with Cersei at the very idea of such a welp replacing her.

"She could never hold a candle to you, Your Grace" you would say, cheeks rosy and eyes smiling. "Rose or not."

Why had you left? Cersei knew why, she wasn't stupid.

She did regret what had happened. You had wanted that baby so badly. I should have just had that dog put down, Cersei thought to herself, that would have been enough.

Yes, it would have hurt you, but you would have gotten over it. You would have had your baby to look after, and Cersei by your side.

Cersei allowed herself to linger on this alternative path, as it was so much more pleasant than her current reality.

Cersei would have moved you closer to the royal quarters, perhaps even into her rooms. The babe would be attended to by a nanny and wetnurse, as all highborn children were.

I could have given them more, Cersei frowned.

A head start for the boy, he would have been set to be someone's squire. Perhaps Jaime's. From there he could take on the role his father had taken, sworn sword to the King's children. Or, on the off chance the boy had been small, unfit for the battlefield, he could have even been sent to Oldtown to be educated.

Would she have loved him? Cersei wondered. Not as she loved her own children, surely. But, he would have been the apple of his mother's eye. I would have cared for him, Cersei decided firmly, not loved, but cared for.

And how well you would have thrived as a mother. You were so good with little Tommen and Myrcella, it would have come naturally.

After The Hound died, what would be done with you?

You could remain forever a widow, that would be the preferred route. You could not be trusted not to love, and in Cersei's view, it was only natural for everyone to fall in love with you eventually.

If the silly fool had been smart enough not to fall for her first husband, none of this would have happened.

If you did remarry though, it would have to be a weak man. One who did not ask questions and did not interfere.

She had thought the Hound good at not interfering. Perhaps Cersei had been blind to it, but he had never seemed resentful of your affections for your Queen. But why else would he have stolen you from the Keep in the Night like a common thief?

you must be so worried, Cersei realized.

Did you know they had won? That they were still alive?

The poor dear was snatched up and swept away like a maiden in a story, she thought fretfully, you must be so confused and frightened.

Enough of this. Cersei slapped her palm to the smooth table top she sat at, nursing a goblet of wine. If they would not do anything, she would.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"You asked to see me, your grace?"

"Yes, come in." Cersei eyed the sell sword up and down. To consider this man a knight would be an affront to the very notion of chivalry, regardless of the "Ser" they put before his name.

"I find myself in need of some help." She began. "I have a problem, and the crown has made it clear they will not intervene, so I am seeking outside assistance."

Bronn nodded understandingly. "May I ask as to the nature of the problem?"

"My favorite, The Lady Clegane, do you know her?"

"Know of her, the uh…" He tried to find a word he could get away with in the present company, "the pretty one the Hound married. I saw her."

"She was kidnapped by her husband from the keep the night Stannis attacked the city. I want her brought back, and I want that barbarian's throat slit."

Bronn considered this. "That can be arranged. It'll take some asking around though, not many men would be willing to track down a man that big and that good with a sword. And they'll be asking for a pretty penny to do it."

"Money is of no object, I assure you," Cersei smirked. "I want her brought back alive and unharmed."

"I'll find the man for the job, your grace." Bronn smiled coyly, "Of course, there is a matter of a finder's fee…"

"Find me a man who can do the job. If he comes back alive with Lady Clegane unharmed, you will be rewarded handsomely." Cersei assured him.

Bronn's grin widened at this, "I will start straight away, Your Grace."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Lancel stared at the ceiling over his bed blankly.

His wound still burned with infection, and his brow was damp with feverish sweat.

The Maester said he would have died if not for the quick dressing of his wound. He had you to thank for that, he thought fondly.

He made good his vow to Clegane and told his father to find him a wife that could get him out of King's Landing, and Kevin Lannister acted swiftly, glad to see that his son was finally taking adult responsibility seriously.

But while the Frey girl Kevin had betrothed him to was kind and plain-faced with noble intentions, Lancel's mind could not help but stray.

He hated himself for it. It was an affront to the gods, disrespectful to the man who had covered his crimes, and dishonored the very lady his affections yearned for.

His soul was still wracked with guilt, how he had been the one to summon you to Cersei's chambers that night. He had no way of knowing what would happen, he told himself, no way at all.

And even after what happened, when he confessed before you and your husband the Queen's crime and his unintentional part in it, though he might die, and if he did it would be well deserved.

But instead, you bore him no ill will, neither of you did. You had even taken valuable time to tend to his wounds when he was injured. "Come with us" you had urged him, and he wanted to follow so badly.

But his honor would not allow it, nor his pride.

And in the end, they won, despite everything.

When the battlefield cleared, Lancel found he could not judge Clegane for what he had done. Win or Lose, nothing would have changed for you. You would still be trapped, your son would still be dead, and you would have to look into the face of your child's killer every day.

He could still picture the beach, war raging only a few hundred yards from them as you held his hand in yours.

Even in plain wool, stripped of any court finery that might have disguised you for a snobbish highborn, you were still so beautiful.

Had Clegane not been there, had they been alone on that beach, would Lancel have dared to kiss you as he had so wanted to in that moment?

It was horrible to think, he knew that. You were a married woman, with a husband who not only loved but respected you. And you were his senior by ten years or more, what could you ever want with someone like him? Little more than a boy in tin armor with a toy sword when compared to The Hound.

As he pondered in the darkness, the arm on Lancel's good side began to move over his hip to rest on his lower stomach. Absentmindedly his long fingers played at the edge of his waistband.

He wished you were here. You had been so kind, so attentive when you nursed his wound as he sat on your bed. Even in the midst of the pain and the noise of the battle still ringing in his ears, the touch of your hands on his body was startlingly gentle.

He imagined how soft your touch had been on his face, all those times you had cupped his cheek gently, in the cellars by candlelight, in the garden surrounded by flowers. How those soft hands would feel against his bare chest, nursing him still with those sad eyes. How you'd press a cold cloth to his brow to soothe his fever.

"My poor Lion" he could hear you breathe, "Let me take care of you."

He gasped as your small hand gripped the length of his shaft and stroked him slowly but firmly. He did not protest, only whimpering with need as you leaned over him to plant a kiss on his brow. Your chest hovered just out of his reach until you drew him close and laid his head on your breast.

"Sweetling." You coaxed him gently, "You must rest, let me help you."

He nodded in agreement and very nearly cried out as you picked up the pace, lavishing tender attention on his sensitive tip each time your fingers pumped his cock.

"Please" he whined, face buried in the warm softness of your breasts as the sensation overwhelmed him. The beckoning smell of your hair, the musical tone of your sweet voice. "Please. I need you; I need you; I love you. Please."

You laughed lightly at his gasping chant, watching his hips buck against your hand.

"I know, darling, I know. Just breath. You're doing so well, so close."

His release came quickly, and just as soon as you were there, you were gone. Your warmth replaced by a cool pillow; your small soft hand replaced by his own nimble fingers.

Even as he traced the sensitive tip of his cock, drawing out more jerks and whines, Lancel felt a wave of shame wash over him.

But more powerful than shame was desire. The desire to sleep, the desire to dream. Perhaps you would visit him again tonight if he was lucky.

[youngstarfishphilosopher]

A question for the child reader lookalike would Alistair get flashbacks to when he was alive and his own kid was alive as well whenever he sees them and I probably can guess when they are playing with Travis and around Ben he gets real angry.

This gave me an idea:

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

The night was young as the sounds of people chatting and music playing filled a rich home known as Crump Manor.

The owner of this home was none other than Alistair Crump: A man known by his wealthy statues and cruel, unkind nature.

He was known for hosting lavish parties and banquets whenever he so desired, always being the center of attention. And usually following him as he went through these events was a tiny young child.

This tiny creature was Alistairs' pride and joy. They would often spend their time near Alistairs' side, the two of them chatting, playing together, and sometimes just standing next to each other in comforting silence.

As Alistair walked around the party, it took him a good few moments to realize that his child was not with him. The only reason he hadn't noticed sooner was because he knew that his child was often shy during parties and didn't really speak that much.

This put him into a panic. The child was so small, and there were so many people here that could have easily hurt or trampled the poor thing over.

His panick soon turned into relief, though when one of his servants found them in a giant comfortable chair in one of the private areas of the manor. They had been found sound asleep.

Gently picking them up, the child slowly opened their eyes as Alistair carried them down the hall.

" . . . Father?" Yawning, as they rubbed their eyes, the child then asked. "Where are we going?"

" Well," Alistair answered sternly, " I am going back to the party,but you are going straight to bed. I knew it was a bad idea letting you stay up past your bedtime last night."

The child did not argue, seeing as they were too tired too, only yawning before rubbing their eyes and letting out a small little "yes sir . . ."

Now, in their pajamas, the child was tucked into their soft, warm bed by their dad. Their last words of that evening simply being " Good night"

Alistair thought of that memory as he carried you from a giant chair in the hallway to the living room where you had set up shop in the mansion.

For these past few weeks, it had felt like multiple long forgotten memories all suddenly crammed back into His mind at once when you entered the mansion. You looked so much like them, liked his pride and joy he had so long ago.

He knew his child was never coming back. They were long gone and at peace in the region beyond: A place where,because of his past sins,Alistair will never be able to go.

But he wasn't about to allow the delusion to stop consuming him.

Setting you down on the couch, Alistair gently tucked you in, wishing you a good night and heading off. Just like he used to do all of those years ago.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

As for your second statement: Yes Alistair would probably get mad. But there wouldn't be anything he could do about it before midnight.

And even then,he would have to be discreet, seeing as he doesn't want the dream team to know your sentimental value to him.

[found-wings]

evermore is such a q!phil song especially rn- I'm a bit busy rn so I can't dissect the Full song but I'll grab the bridge and brainrot as much as I can because holy shit especially with the storyline happening rn this song has never been more him and I Always accept the opportunity to appreciate a taylor swift song

-

"Can't not think of all the cost

And the things that will be lost

Oh, can we just get a pause?

To be certain we'll be tall again

Whether weather be the frost

Or the violence of the dog days

I'm on waves, out being tossed

Is there a line that I could just go cross?

And when I was shipwrecked (can't think of all the cost)

I thought of you (all the things that will be lost now)

In the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?)

I dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again)

(If you think of all the costs)

It was real enough (whether weather be the frost)

To get me through (or the violence of the dog days)

(Out on waves being tossed)

But I swear (is there a line that we could just go cross?)

You were there"

-

OHHHHHHHHHHH THIS POOR CROW IM PUTTING HIM THROUGH THE WRINGER AND SQUEEZING OUT EVERY BIT OF ANGST POSSIBLE BECAUSE GOD. CAN HE FIT ALOT OF THAT.

okay especially with the story rn, I am 100% connecting the beginning to his feelings to chayanne and tallulah. the fact that every choice he makes even when they're gone, could be affecting his kids with the way that the federation 100% has them and are not above punishing innocent bystanders for other people's actions. all he can think about is his kids, all he wants is to be with them again. at this point his priority isn't even to keep them Safe or to leave the island, he just wants tangible proof that they're alive and to be there with them and AAAAAAA it hurts !!!!!! he would do anything to get them back and the feds knew that and def punished him so severely to make sure he'd wanna stay in line for anything else they'd do in the future ;;;-;;

and taylors parts of the bridges duet?? oh for sure that's phil while he was trapped, literally no way, locked in a place where in his sleep it's delusions of his life before where he was free to do anything he wanted- to waking in a place where he is the most imprisoned he's ever been is just so painful and the bridge describes the thoughts of unreality and searching for something tangible to hold onto so perfectly AAAAAAAAAA I NEED SOMEONE TO GIVE HIM A HUG ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ - 💿

OH MY GOD 💿 ANON PLEASE, WAAAH

I cannot properly put my thoughts together rn but gods I‘m listening to the song rn AND IT HURTS SO MUCH BUT FITS SO WELL

Phil just wants his two children back!! Please, I WILL CRY

Also for some reason, I can‘t quite tell why, but the part of

„And I was catching my breath

Barefoot in the wildest winter

Catching my Death“

Gives me such.. idk, odd vibes in relation to Phil?? Like it gives me slight vibes of Phils dreams of his Hardcore world(s) and how it could be viewed as him kinda.. processing things?

It doesn‘t quite make much sense to anyone but me probably ( #sick with too many thoughts WHEEZE ), but dreaming of being free, doing whatever he wants to. Building, breathing, flying and living, with death being the only thing that could ever stop him.

Dreaming of a world like that was his only escape of reality, because the situation he was in within the birdhouse felt like death for him. His two children are gone and god knows where, having been baited into a trap with a promise of slightest hope of finding them, his wings clipped with him being a downed bird basically inside a cage with no clue on if he’d ever go free again, if anyone would ever even find him - if anyone even cared. This was basically him watching himself die in a way

Or maybe I‘m looking too much into it WHEEZE

[alexisnoir]

I had the most terrifying encounter in my entire life!

I have a neighbor. She is few years older than me. I knew her and her mother who has passed away few years ago. She also has two older sister but they don’t keep contact with her and she with them.

She has mental illness with delusions and something else however I don’t know the specific terms for the illness. That’s beside the point. Everyone who lives in my block of flats knows she’s ill and needs to take meds. She’s not taking them because she has no job ergo no money. Now she has no electricity or gas (thank God for that!) so in turn she doesn’t buy meds and is not in her right state of mind. She’s sometimes happy, sometimes sad, angry, doesn’t talk to you, talks to herself and does bizarre things like watering the grass even though it is raining. 

Today however I was riding the elevator and the elevator stopped on the floor she lives on, she walks in, has angry look on her face. I say nothing to not set her off accidentally by sounding too happy or to impolite.

We both walk out, she first I behind her. Right in front of the elevator are mailboxes for the residents. There were some advertisements on top of the mailboxes. Suddenly she swipes the ads down angrily and comes right at me.

She holds me with both of her hands tightly and yells at me if I know what I have done. Mostly she yelled about me killing 20 of her family members (she doesn’t have that many family members), called me by a different name. I spoke to her, slowly, gently calling her name. I spoke to her to calm down, that it’s okay, I’m not called what you called me, you’re scaring me etc. When I said that the name she called me is not my name she of course yelled at me to tell her what my real name is, who am I. Stuff like that. If not for the neighbor that walked in with his dog from the walk, I don’t think she would “snap out of it”. The neighbor said nothing, I did mouth to him to help me but she yelled at him to leave us alone, not to get involved. He was elderly and could’ve been scared himself but I think him walking in might have stopped her from her spiraling thought process and for her to let go of me and walk out. 

I am bloody scared. I knew of her anger attacks for years but that was back when her mother was alive, she made sure she took her meds but even with meds she was sometimes unpredictable but not violent toward anyone.

I seriously need to think through if calling for a psychiatric hospital intervention from me, not her family member would be answered. I have a witness she attacked me, so there’s that but will that be enough? That happened about 3 hours ago (around 6 am). She has episodes where she’s absolutely normal, talks normal but later she is not.  

What to do? 

[startagainstartagainstartagain]

mirabelle enters the field expecting siffrin to be there.

someone is there, and they do not look very much like siffrin, or anyone she's ever seen before. she stands over them, hesitant, wondering if she should wake them up and ask if they've seen someone with a bright hat and cloak around here.

but when the person open their eyes, groggy from sleep, they whisper, hoarse: "mira?"

and. there's only two people that she knows to be still alive and moving and not frozen who call her that. one of them was supposed to be lying in this field.

and so mirabelle says "siffrin...?"

they freak out. a lot. they tear at their arms and the light where their skull should be and repeat words to themself that don't make sense. they're scared, caught in a delusion maybe - repeating over and over "it's a dream, it's not real, it's not real"

and mirabelle, of course, knows that siffrin doesn't like touch. so if this person is siffrin they would also not like touch.

but she's also taken many many classes, some of them going through how to help someone having a mental crisis. and she's fine with the idea of them being mad at her for a bit if it means she can pull them back to reality.

so she grabs their star-speckled hand and squeezes tight. they practically collapse into her, sobbing and shaking and clawing at the ground. and she stays with them, not pressing the boundary any further than they've opened it as much as she would like to rub their back to soothe them.

eventually they straighten, still with their hand in hers but not meeting her eyes. and mirabelle carefully asks, "you are siffrin... right?"

and they freeze, and she doesn't hear them breathe but their chest rises and they lean back just so in a way that makes her think of a sharp inhale, and for a long moment she tenses as they don't say anything.

then siffrin nods and her whole body relaxes.

she gathers everyone herself once it's clear he doesn't want to have to explain to everyone individually, nor (in mirabelle's opinion) does he seem in any state to. she tries to break it to them as gently as possible and with as little detail as possible that siffrin looks different now, and leaves it up to them when to reveal themself.

and they do, and someone inevitably asks why.

and siffrin says "i was in a timeloop" and mirabelle was so caught up in supporting her friend through their sudden Change that she never asked because she thought it would be better not to until everyone was together and she's like WHAT

I’m so sad about Loop and the thought of them disappearing/never getting to see their party again devastates me to an astronomical degree so

Au where Loop gets ‘here we go again’-ed back to their timeline and everything is normal, except for the fact that the loops are still happening (supposedly, they haven’t looped back yet they don’t know I don’t know what are you a cop) and they’re still. Very much visibly a star.

They are obviously, very scared. Because their party doesn’t recognize them and there’s this whole thing where one member of the party REALLY has to look at them until they realize that ‘Siffrin’ really is, a WHOLE STAR NOW.

I HAD A WHOLE FUCKINH VISUAL FOR THIS. BECAUSE I BASED IT OFF OF THAT ONE MOOMIN EPISODE WHERE MOOMIN TURNS INTO A SWEET LITTLE BEAST AND HIS MOM IS THE ONLY ONE OUT OF ALL OF THEM TO JUST LOOK AT HIM AND GO ‘oh shit yeah that’s my baby’

Obviously there will be changes in dynamic and scenario, and it might be more than just one party member to do this, but the idea of a person looking at their unrecognizable friend and then being able to tell it’s them just from how they look at them makes me so ill.

Anyway since Loop knows damn well not telling their party shit will just get them in deeper shit they just like. Soppily start explaining everything, they cannot string two sentences together they’ve been crying nonstop since they saw their party give them a break. Obviously the party believes them because holy shit if you’re a whole fucking star and you’re also crying? Your eyes out? There are no tears, then why the hell would you lie about this?

It just ends in a lot of tears and Loop is. So sad

But also happy because…’yay !!! My party !!! I have my party AND I know how to break the loops now !!! Awesome !!! That was so easy !!!’

Yeah it only took losing yourself and accidentally changing your body into something you don’t recognize so you can leave your self made torment only to be stripped away from the ones you love and put into some other fucking fella’s timeline so that THEY can have their happy ending instead yeah Loop that was SO EASY.

IS THIS ANYTHING????????