#this isnt to be foreboding

[kaurwreck]

Hello, i feel like you'd be very interested in this topic---i just wanna say, the real Yosano's life was quite bitter and very dispiriting, T- T she was exiled from infancy and was only removed from the prison of neglect when her father mistook her large forehead as a sign of intelligence (her father, was apparently an ardent believer of eugenics and wanted to produce superior human beings) and she was sent to school only @ the age of three.

It kindaaa made me think of how BSD Yosano was drafted from the candy shop because, too, of a sign of something valuable and special---the real Yosano was only noticed by her father when she seemed indicative of intellect while BSD Yosano was chosen specifically due to her potential to be of use i am biting my fist!! i am about to SCREAM!!

Also her father (the real Yosano) inherited a confectionary shop and i think it was mentioned in the manga that she (BSD yosano) was drafted from a candy shop, so i guess it's not too far fetched to assume, if we try to parallel them, that the candy shop BSD Yosano was taken from to serve the military was actually run by her family---she was taken from her family, however, the author Yosano didn't have a particularly strong familial love due to the neglect and indifference of her family and servants to her so it made me think that BSD Yosano saw being chosen by Mori as a chance to finally be acknowledged and be seen as someone who is capable of something bc the real Yosano's father looked down on her because she is a girl and even left their household for a week upon knowing that the child Yosano's mother gave birth to was not a boy AAAAAAARGHHH am only at the beginning of this biography book (Janine Beichman - Embracing the Firebird_ Yosano Akiko and the Birth of the Female Voice in Modern Japanese Poetry-University of Hawaii Press (2002)) but AHH it's making me feral!!

Also if this ends up being annoying or something ur not interested in please feel free to ignore my ramblings/gen issoki

This isn't annoying at all! Nurture your heart and tenderness towards Yosano Akiko as you move through her life; there will come a point at the very end where it may feel like she's betrayed you (or at the very least, she may leave you feeling conflicted). But I think compassion can (and should) remain constant, even where our opinions, complaisance, and favor need to be pliable and subject to revision.

I didn't know much about her early life before, so this was really informative and well received. Her parents' neglect and abandonment contrasts starkly with how fiercely she loved and supported her own children. I think, knowing this, I have an inkling of understanding into how the principles she held at the end of her life could have become so different from the principles that defined her early career.

Those are also very on-point parallels to bsd!Yosano, and add nuance to the circumstances that brought her to Mori. I agree that the parallels really emphasize how important Mori, his affection for her, and his faith in her competence were to her; which is why he was so capable of destroying her sense of self when he prioritized her skill over her humanity.

Thank you for sharing the title of the biography you're reading; I look forward to seeking it out!

[clowningaroundmars]

heeyyy yaaalllll

so i was thinking to myself, i love punkflower. i really do.

what if there was a hobie in miles' universe and he didnt have to do the whole long distance relationship across dimensions thing, though? just keep his lil secret crush on spiderpunk a secret and keep it pushing, only to literally bump into his own hobie brown in 1610 one day?

wouldnt that be cool, guys?

wouldnt it? :)

wouldnt :) it :) be :) so :) cool? :) and so cute too?

:)

update: >part 2 here<

Miles was late.

It was his first day back, the very beginning of his junior year at Visions Academy and he was late. God damn.

His parents were really gonna kill him this time, no doubt about it. There weren't even any good Spiderman excuses he could use to weasel his way out of getting into trouble this time! He'd just have to cross his fingers and pray that his chemistry teacher for this year wasn't a total hardass like last year's English teacher.

Maybe he could make up some dumb excuse this time, try to wriggle his way into the professor's good graces with some blatant lie. Anyways, whose dumb idea was it to put him in a class so damn far from the entrance doors so early in the mor--

BRRRRRRING!

Miles tore around a corner just as the final bell rang throughout the mostly-empty hallways, inciting panic in his chest and making him nearly launch himself down another hallway just to get to his class.

In his haste, he nearly knocked over a very tall and very... familiar looking person that happened to be in Miles' trajectory. Luckily, bodies didn't end up colliding but the shock of having a person fly so quickly into their line of sight shocked the both of them into skidding to a sudden stop.

The tall person ended up dropping a textbook and what seemed like an enormous packet of papers, because sheets scattered absolutely everywhere, almost like snow.

Ugh. Of course.

They both stared down at the mess in the middle of the hallway floor for a beat.

Then, Miles exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.

"Aw man, I-I'm sorry! I just uh... here, lemme just--"

They both bent down to quickly scoop up the papers as Miles stuttered and spoke a hundred miles a minute, trying to apologize for the heart-stopping scare he caused. Just as Miles shuffled the papers together in his hands, he finally looked up at the unlucky student he almost football-tackled first thing in the morning... and nearly dropped the papers onto the floor again.

Kneeled right in front of him with papers and a textbook tucked under a skinny arm, long fingers nervously plucking up what was left of the rest of the packet, was none other than... Hobie Brown.

Oh. God.

This Hobie didn't seem to be Miles' Hobie, though.

(Miles' temperature rose a bit as he quickly thought: wait, my Hobie? That's not right, either.)

Instead of large freeform locs that tapered off like wicks, he was sporting long uniform locs that were piled up high in a loose ponytail on his head, most likely due to the school policy that stated boys needed to have hair above the nape of their neck. Miles kinda wondered about that policy, if he ever decided to grow out his hair; would pulling his hair up be enough? Or would they police his hair length and force him to cut it all off?

Well, turns out the answer was literally right in front of him. Another shock to the system right after the first one.

That was Miles' excuse, really. It was just so dang early in the morning and he really really wasn't thinking when he opened his mouth and basically shouted "Hobie?!"

It honest to god sounded like it echoed in the hallway.

He slapped a hand over his mouth, immediately chastising himself for the stupid mistake he made, mentally kicking himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!! He wasn't supposed to know this guy obviously, they hadn't even met in their dimension yet!

Hobie, for his part, didn't seem perturbed by this at all though. He took the papers from Miles' hands and straightened himself back up to his full height, offering a hand so that Miles could stand up too.

He shrugged shyly and hid behind a couple locs that happened to fall back into his face, holding the books and papers closer to his chest.

"Uhmmn yeah, sorry. I-I'm runnin' late to my first class so I can't really give any autographs right now. Maybe later... if we see each other, ok?"

Miles blinked owlishly. Did he just say... autographs?

And wait a minute... was this Hobie... American?

Miles' poor little sleep-deprived mind was being blown again and again. He really didn't know if he was ever going to recover from this.

Hobie started to back up and walk away so Miles held his hands up to stop him. "Wait wait wait, autographs? I'm not uh-- sorry, this is weird," he laughed, rubbing his neck. "Nah, man. That's cool. I don't really want any autographs. Are you uh-- are you famous, actually?"

It was this Hobie's turn to blink owlishly now, hesitating a bit. A non-pierced eyebrow was raised as he said, "I... I kinda am...?"

He turned and pointed out the giant window of the hallway that they happened to be standing by, and Miles craned his neck to peer outside.

It smacked him right in the face once his eyes landed on it: a giant billboard fixed atop a neighboring building that depicted Hobie Brown in a luxurious-looking perfume ad. He sported the same locs as he did in real life, wearing shiny-looking makeup and giving the viewer the fiercest, smokiest look Miles has ever seen from a model in a hot minute. He was clutching deep purple satin, wrapped in it, basking in it. A single perfume bottle with a deep purple bow on the neck was photoshopped next to him, matching the overall vibe of the ad.

Miles was rooted to the spot, absolutely gobsmacked. How in the world did he miss that?!

Distantly, a small echo of a conversation he had in what seemed like a lifetime ago floated up from a memory. "I was briefly a runway model" pulsed in his neural pathways for a quick second.

Slowly, the gears started turning in his head. Slowly, he turned back to his dimension's Hobie Brown, who was giving him a strange sort of look.

Miles awkwardly tried to gather himself up, waving his hands around as he struggled for a non-weird explanation to his very weird behavior.

"I-I mean-- ahahaha! Yeah I mean, obviously you're famous! I was just y'know-- playin' with you. Pulling your leg and all that, I guess... heh."

The strange dubious look on Hobie's face didn't budge. "...Right."

Miles coughed conspicuously, trying to change the subject. "But uh yeah, haven't seen you around this school much then! Are you... you in a different grade than me or...?"

The corner of Hobie's mouth twitched suddenly, and for a split second Miles wondered if he said something wrong.

But then Hobie chuckled a bit. "No, I don't think so? This is my first day here. Like... ever. So I'm not really surprised you haven't seen me before. I just transferred over."

Miles practically sighed in relief and nodded, hands in his pockets. "Right! Right, very cool. Welcome to Visions then, I guess. Uh... I'm Miles! Miles Morales. Nice to meet ya!"

He goofily stuck a hand out, which Hobie actually accepted. They shook hands for a second, and then Miles was suddenly taken aback by how cold his hand was against his own skin. It was a definite contrast to the warm and lanky body he remembered practically draped across his own, back in Mumbattan.

He forced those particular memories away for now.

This Hobie was smiling down at him, sad eyes set inside a seemingly genuine expression of fondness. "Cool. I'm Hobie. But, uh, it seems like you already knew that, so."

"Aha, yeah yeah! It just-- honestly it's just the shock of, uh, running into a major celeb in the middle of my school that really got to me, I think. Sorry. I probably look like a total weirdo right now!"

Hobie shook his head, and Miles took the opportunity to really study this guy now that the shock was over and the vibe was more chill. This Hobie was just as long and lanky as the punk anarchist Miles was already well acquainted with, but he held himself completely differently. Where Spider-Hobie was all confident strut and careless swagger, this Hobie seemed to be all reserved grace and... sadness? He definitely reminded Miles of a willow tree drooping down into a lake, beautiful but tragic at the same time.

Okay Miles, get it together, he thought, stop thinking this guy is beautiful. I mean, he is beautiful yeah... but c'mon man, focus!

Hobie's non-pierced lips were moving now, finishing a sentence that Miles most definitely did not catch.

Then, Hobie looked at him expectantly.

Oh shit. He just asked a question didn't he? Fuck.

"Uh, sorry... one more time?" Miles grinned as wide as he could, apologetic. Nice going, Morales, the humorless voice in his head chimed in. Definitely not convincing this guy you're an alien from outer space or anything!

Hobie huffed a laugh and cleared his throat. "Sorry, my fault. Sometimes I mumble and... yeah. Mom says I need to work on that," he sighed, then continued, "I was just wondering if you knew where room 301 was?"

Miles nearly jumped with the force of the realization that just hit him.

"301? Mr. Moriarty's class?"

"Y-yeah, that's the one," Hobie smiled, twirling a loc on one finger and tugging it a bit. Then he tucked it back behind his ear. "I'm actually so lost it's not even funny, I'm godawful at directions and like, navigating. I've been looking for it for like 20 minutes now--"

"That's where my first class is too! AP chem!"

Hobie seemed to brighten up a bit at that, straightening his posture up from his own self-conscious hunch. "Oh cool! We should probably get going then, if we don't wanna be more late than we already are."

Without thinking, Miles places a hand on Hobie's shoulder and steers them both towards a classroom right at the end of the hallway they were in.

"Of course, right this way! Pretty lucky you ran into me, huh? I can help you find your other classes later on if you want, too."

For the first time since nearly crashing into him, Miles looked up at Hobie and saw genuine happiness in his eyes as they grinned at each other and walked down the hall together.

"...Yeah," Hobie said, nodding slowly. "Yeah that'd be pretty cool. Thanks!"

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Their chemistry teacher ended up not being a total hardass after all! Especially when Miles rolled up with none other than Famous Model Hobie in tow, immediately causing a ripple of whispers amongst the students sat at their desks.

Mr. Moriarty was a short and stumpy old man with a kind face and a severely receding hairline. He took one look at Hobie after squinting at his attendance sheet, accepted Miles' quick explanation that they were late because Hobie's minty fresh enrollment got him all lost in these maze-like hallways, and excused their tardiness with a wave of a hand.

"It's the first day and you were very kind to help a new student out, Mr. Morales. You're both excused for today, but try not to make a habit of it, alright?"

Miles bobbed his head as he picked his way past rows of desks. "Absolutely, sir. No problem at all. Thanks a bunch!"

Hobie stuck close to him, and smiled a bit as the only two desks left empty in the whole room happened to be right next to each other, right up in the back of the class. Nice.

They took their seats and exchanged a couple of glances as they pulled out their notebooks, barely listening to their professor's quick introduction and class syllabus. Well, Miles was barely listening, anyways. He was too caught up in the euphoria of running into a dimensional variant of one of his friends, in Visions Academy no less! His mind started to wander a bit. Did a 1610 Gwen exist too? a 1610 Pavitr? Were they also here at Visions? And what was with these random stares he and Hobie were getting from their fellow classmates right now?

Every now and then a student's head would swivel back to glance in their direction, awestruck looks evident on their faces.

How famous was Hobie anyway?

Of course, there was that giant billboard conveniently placed within view of the school's back hallways near a busy intersection, but Miles really started to think. He sneakily pulled out his phone and swiped down to the lowest brightness he could in case the classroom's fluorescent lighting wasn't enough to hide the phone screen's own light.

He kept his face straight forward, eyes flicking to and from his typing that he was trying to conceal behind the student sitting in front of him. He typed Hobie Brown model, Hobie Brown perfume ad, Hobie Brown supermodel, getting absolutely nothing every single time. Well, nothing that looked like the Hobie Brown sitting next to him, who happened to be dutifully scribbling down some notes in his notebook. Miles looked down at his own empty sheet of paper and quickly copied his new friend, whipping out a pencil and hurrying to catch up with the lecture on the whiteboard before the professor moved on.

Groan. What gives? Was Hobie this super accomplished, totally famous supermodel or not? Maybe he wasn't on social media, oddly enough. Maybe he just started an illustrious career and happened to be famous only in Brooklyn right now? No, that didn't make sense. If he was some small-time influencer or whatever, people would not be asking for autographs so often that Hobie would just automatically assume anyone who recognized him wanted one. And the looks on these other kids' faces convinced Miles that... maybe something was missing. Maybe he's just not searching up the right terms?

Agh, if only Spiderman business didn't keep him totally detached from reality sometimes. He really felt like he and the rest of the world were on totally different planets. If he had any friends besides Ganke, he probably would've heard about Hobie by now.

He bit his lip in concentration, trying to multitask between forming theories and keeping up with the lesson in the front of the classroom.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of eyes staring straight at him that didn't belong to the other classmates he barely even knew. He glanced over at Hobie, who quickly looked away.

Was that... an embarrassed look on his face just now? Miles scratched at his jaw a bit, more confused than before.

That was weird. Whatever. Anyways...

Before long, class was over and the bell rang. Miles and Hobie both meandered slowly up to the door and hung around the outside, leaning against the wall as they compared schedules before they had to make their way to their next class.

"Dang," Miles lamented, clutching his own schedule and moving to slot it into the cover of his binder. "Looks like we don't share any more classes besides 1st period..."

Hobie stopped his hand and squinted at the sheet again, glancing back at his own. "Uhmm... nah, actually. I think we might have 6th period together? Right after lunch."

"Do we share a lunch period too, actually?" Miles asked excitedly.

Hobie made a small noise of triumph, a smile playing over his lips. "Yeah! 1st, lunch and then 6th. Okay. Better than nothing, right?"

Miles chuckled, shoving his schedule into the plastic and tucking it under his arm. "Definitely. We can eat together at the cafeteria if you want! I'll walk you to your next class though, since it's basically right around the corner."

Hobie shrugged his own backpack back onto his shoulder and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. His eyes were cast downwards as he grinned at the floor and said, "yeah, if you don't mind... that'd be pretty cool."

This guy sure does like the word cool, Miles thought, and away to Hobie's next class they both went. They both ignored the various whispers and stares in their direction. Miles was already used to it by now.

They walked together amiably, in near lockstep for a little while before Hobie finally spoke up again.

"... So... if you don't mind me asking... why are you so nice to me if you didn't know I was famous, then?"

It was an innocent enough question, but it kinda caught Miles off guard nonetheless.

He laughed nervously. "Uhh ahaha, whaddya mean? I did know you were famous! I just... y'know my brain doesn't work the best real early in the morning. I'm, uh. Sometimes I can be pretty weird, if you haven't noticed by now."

Hobie nodded slowly, digesting this information for a bit. "Yeah, you did recognize me in the first place, I guess. It's just weird, you're like... the first person I met that doesn't look at me like I'm made out of solid gold, though. That's all..."

They exchanged glances again, and Miles' brain was working into overdrive, thinking of an appropriate response.

Before he could open his mouth, they finally reached their destination and Hobie bumped Miles' shoulder with his arm, smiling.

"So, thanks. For, uh... this. All this."

Miles raised a brow at him. "Oh yeah, this is nothing. I just walked you over to your next class, no biggie. My class is right over here anyways, so--"

Hobie laughed and shook his head, the expression lighting up his facial features unlike anything Miles has seen on that face yet.

"No, Miles. Not just this. I mean, like..." Hobie dipped his head, a bashful sort of move. "I mean, like, being nice to me. Like forreal. I really appreciate this."

They looked at each other for a moment, something real warm growing in Miles' chest all of a sudden, something... familiar.

He was just about to casually brush the gratitude off a second time with a dorky quip, before some girl's screechy voice interrupted their private little moment out of nowhere. It honestly startled them both, and the nice warm atmosphere dissipated immediately.

"Oh. My. GOD!! Is that Hobie Jones? Like actually?!"

She giggled and bounded up to them, blatantly ignoring Miles to insert herself between them and crowd into Hobie's space. She coquettishly asked for a selfie with him, promising to tag him on social media. The sudden commotion unfortunately attracted some other students who then took their cue to also bother Hobie for autographs, selfies, throwing compliments left and right.

Miles backed up out of the crowd, eyes still on Hobie as he watched the poor guy metaphorically slip on a mask, the very same that Miles saw when they first met not 2 hours ago. It was a sad, detached sort of look, and Hobie was forced to hunch in on himself to meet his fellow students' heights as they snapped selfie after selfie. His lips formed a smile all the while. His eyes did not.

A pang of sympathy hit Miles as he slowly turned away and made his way down to his own classroom without so much as a goodbye. He shrugged to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, he knew how that felt, just trying to mind your own business and live your life, do what you have to do-- and being stopped by nearly every living being within a 50 ft radius wanting their photo ops and their babies kissed.

Miles smiled to himself as he shouldered his way past other students and sauntered into his class, right on time. The bell rang as he reached his desk, and he pulled out another notebook out of his bag before the realization finally hit him with the force of a truck.

Wait... Hobie JONES?!

Miles quickly glanced around at his surroundings and mentally kicked himself yet again for choosing a seat so close to the teacher's desk, almost right up at the front. Damnit!

But the teacher wasn't in the classroom just yet, most likely making a quick run down to the printer down the hall to make copies of the class syllabus or something.

Okay, Morales. Gotta be quick.

He hastily pulled out his phone yet again, one eye on the door. He quickly typed in Hobie Jones model in his browser's search box, letting out a breath as search results loaded up and gave him exactly what he was looking for this entire time.

Bingo.

Hobie's face popped up in the image search previews, all sorts of cool and striking photoshoots lit up in all kinds of different ways. And the very first link at the top of the page? Hobie's own Flickstagram.

With a shaky hand, Miles tapped the link and impatiently waited for it to load, for his phone to get with the program and just open the damn app already. He kept glancing every so often at the door yet again, praying that the printer or copier-- or whatever-the-hell that was keeping the professor away from the class-- would keep them away for just a second longer.

He finally cast his gaze back down onto his own Flickstagram app and his heart nearly dropped out of his chest.

At the top, right next to Hobie's own smoldering profile picture was his username: hobiemjones

hobiemjones... hobie m jones. Hobie M. Jones.

M.J.

Miles exhaled again and tucked his phone away in shock just as the classroom door opened yet again and all the students quieted down. This class's teacher made their way over to their desk, piles of papers in hand. They started to pass them out to the students in the front row, introducing themself and then going over the usual attendance policies.

Miles accepted the syllabus sheets with trembling hands, turning to pass them over his shoulder once he got his own, his mind running a hundred miles a minute.

Peter talked nonstop about his wife, whenever he managed to stop talking about his baby, that is. It was always MJ this, MJ that. Flashes of a middle-aged man staring forlornly at a picture of his then-ex wife-- grieving the one who got away-- raced across his mind's eye. His universe's own MJ standing at a podium, strong but deeply hurt as she addressed all of Brooklyn after Spiderman's funeral.

"She wanted kids and I... just wasn't ready," echoed over and over in Miles' mind. Of course, they're together now. But the way Peter talked about his divorce... oh god.

Wait... was Miles ready for kids? Were he and Hobie going to have a messy on-and-off again relationship that ended up with them having to care for a spider-baby just like Mayday?! Maybe even multiple spider-babies?!?!?

Miles loosened his tie a bit, sweating profusely.

The fact that neither Hobie nor Miles were equipped with the parts to make a baby together flew right over his head. No... instead, his mind skipped straight to marriage, messy emotional fights and inevitable breakups. How was he gonna juggle school, work, Spiderman stuff and a relationship all at once?!

Without realizing, Miles started hyperventilating.

No no no no no, cool it Miles. COOL IT. Don't be weird. Miles mentally slapped himself and tried to even out his breathing as he leaned back in his seat and wiped some sweat off his brow.

He just proved to Miguel O' Hara and the entire multiverse this past spring that he can do his own thing, canon events be damned. Miles Morales was no victim to fate. Maybe all of the other spider-people had their own MJs. But maybe in this universe, MJ and Spiderman were... just friends. Good friends! ...Yeah, yeah, just friends...

The idea floated around in Miles' head throughout the entire rest of the class, but it didn't really make the tightness in his chest loosen up any at all.

Once the bell rang again and everyone started packing their things up, Miles dawdled a bit by the door, fumbling with his phone as his classmates filed out of the room. If he was late enough, maybe he'd completely miss Hobie in the hallways and not have to see him at all. Miles double-checked, triple-checked his schedule again and again, mapping out an eventual escape route through the halls in case Hobie's path did intercept Miles'.

God, Miles thought ruefully, checking the hour on his phone for the 15th time in a row and smiling awkwardly at his teacher's questioning glance. You're being so fucking weird about this right now!

The rational part of his brain kicked in and presented a quick slideshow of other calmer, more reasonable explanations as to why he really shouldn't be avoiding his new friend like the plague all of a sudden.

1. Hobie probably doesn't and won't like me, it stated. There is literally no proof that Hobie Jones is even into guys. Or me, Miles Morales.

2. Even if Hobie Jones is into guys-- or me, Miles Morales-- that does not mean the endgame is automatically marriage. No sir, no proof of that at all!

3. Canon events were officially disproven. Kinda. Mostly. Sort of?

C'mon, bro. Just man up and get out there. You're gonna be late for the next class soon anyways.

Right. He inhaled deeply and steeled himself.

"Okay well, uh. Have a nice day Mx. Gonzalez! See ya... tomorrow." Miles cringed inwardly at how lame that sounded, but his teacher didn't seem to notice as they bid him a nice day as well.

With his heart in his stomach, Miles slowly made his way into the hallway and started walking at a brisk pace, keeping his eyeline straight in front of him, trying to reach his next class on the floor below quickly but manageably. It was when he reached the stairs that his heart sank even lower.

Hobie was standing right next to the stairwell, glaring at the school map placed on the wall off to the left, fingertips on his chin as he mumbled to himself. He was glancing up and down between the map and his schedule in his hand, clearly befuddled.

Damn, he really is bad at navigating, Miles mused, once he recovered.

But as luck would have it, tragedy struck right then. Miles being pretty much the only other kid in the hallway attracted Hobie's attention, and even though Miles' feet kept him moving, he almost tripped on air once Hobie perked up upon seeing him.

"Miles!" Hobie grinned and waved him over, clearly happy to see him.

Oh noooo. Miles was not as happy to see him.

Without thinking, he launched himself down the flight of stairs, hopping over the railing and landing loudly on the 1st floor. Once steady, he basically sprinted over to his 3rd period class, completely missing the way Hobie's sunny grin slowly disappeared and his hand lowered back down to his side.

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Lunchtime came and went. Miles ate his packed lunch at his usual perch on top of the school building, where he always hid while trying to avoid the rest of the student body. He managed to pick a good spot away from prying eyes, and it never failed him.

Hobie ate alone, at a table tucked into the corner of the cafeteria despite being invited to several other tables. He sat and chewed sadly, locs back in front of his eyes, posture hunched over and defeated.

6th period came and went. Miles purposefully kept his gaze averted as Hobie walked in 5 minutes late. They sat at opposite ends of the room, never acknowledging each other's existence.

The school day ended and Miles made his way back to the dorms, sighing with relief once he glanced out the window and saw giant rainclouds rolling in over the horizon. Man, was he glad he got to bunk up on campus with his best friend! He greeted Ganke, kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto his bunkbed, laying back with a sigh. Maybe tomorrow he'd confront Hobie about his erratic behavior and apologize. Maybe.

But that was a problem for future Miles...

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Outside, the rain started falling fast and hard.

Outside, Hobie M. Jones waited miserably by the curb with an umbrella in hand, getting drenched by the water nonetheless. He checked his phone for the 15th time and sniffled angrily, pocketing it and gripping onto his umbrella handle.

Late. Again.

His mother was late to pick him up, as usual.

He swiped at a tear rolling down his cheek and finally loosened his ponytail, letting his locs fall all around his face.

Once she arrived, his mother was going to inevitably ask him how his day was, look only slightly concerned about his angry tears and ask if he made any new friends anyways, despite knowing the answer.

No, mom, Hobie would say as he kept his eyes glued to the car window.

No. I didn't make any friends.

[asksolgaleo]

"Although Alola is the only spot where Ultra beasts break through, it is in no way a common occurance, which gives me a lot of free time... I need a new hobby, one that accomodates big paws!" @cutemonclub

[sydmarch]

very confused by the chapter 4 ending

[mekatrio]

bursting into tears from this

[impastopesto]

my tragic emo backstory for the month is that i had a beautiful warm sunny day in october this is highly unnatural

[sharkfund]

the funny bts for writing that fic is that i looked up the "better call saul poker scene" approximately 900 actual times to get a reference for that chapter (i refuse to sit down and watch the show cuz ill go INSANE. dont ask) and i forget where i got some actually tolerable pics to reference but it was probably tumblr. and these are what i kept in mind when i wrote it

where that whole fic came from was my obsession with lalo's shark-like features and character and whatever but the MAIN idea i had that spurred the fic's birth was. what if nacho and lalo were in the car and lalo just SUBTLY asked nacho what he thought about gay people. before egregiously hitting on him LMFAOOOOO

omfg 82 ppl have read my lacho fanfic i didnt even know 82 people who still liked bcs were Alive

[howlsofbloodhounds]

“canon adjacent” type of bad Sanses au where killer is that weird, freaky, kinda creepy dude who’s kinda an asshole inviting himself wherever even when not invited who no one really truly know anything about and no one really wants to know anything about.

Like he seems to know and understand nightmare in a way the other don’t. He hardly needs words, just a simple look at nightmare and he seemingly already knows what the boss wants from him. He knows how the boss likes his tea and where he keeps the exact book he wants to read tonight.

he snarks freely and frequently back at nightmare and yet no one has ever really truly seen killer do anything to openly disobey nightmare and never seems to resist any punishments. No attempts to fight back or hide or run or bargain or plead. he seemingly doesn’t fear nightmare but doesn’t step out of line anyway besides occasionally dragging his feet a bit.

he’s rarely actually seen alone, almost always by nightmares side and apparently attentive. Anticipating nightmares needs and wants before he utters a word or spares a glance.

and even when killer is spotted alone, no one approaches because they all feel a sense of foreboding whenever around him. like something horrible will happen if they get too close, a sense of being watched, as if killer isnt actually alone as he seems. it feels like a trap to interact with him.

out on missions with killer, assuming nightmare didnt give killer his own separate mission and thus killer immediately ditches the group, he’s a bit more talkative. more touchy than expected (hes reassuring himself that theyre all actually real), more expressive than he usually is around nightmare.

and the ease at which that falls away as soon as they return to the castle is unsettling. how he falls quiet and silent, sliding right back at the boss’ side like he never left. which one is the real him? Was he just messing with them? can they trust him at all? can nightmare use him against them?

killer being something different, something “other” in the gang.

[eternalartblock]

you call that last art post "the funniest theory ever" meanwhile Ive been going actually insane over it and fully scared at the fact it feels so possible for demo 5. I've been sharing it yelling about it with my friends and being so devastated about how like. next chapter is windforce right. and when you see kyoko again after chapter 4 you gotta tell her about calypso right, and shes gonna go wild about it trying to find her. It would be the perfect time for a kyoko centric chapter right? Which sounds good until you considered that screenshot with the "Being one with the wind!" line and um. the fact that the full context for that line is her using the wind to describe how good it feels to adventure Alone... Considering her being defined by a missing relative, someone not being with her, leaving her alone,,, and the general vibe of struggling to talk about her own problems. She wants to be alone with her suffering. and theres the new beach dialogue where she doesn't think shes that interesting and worth seeking out (WAUHHH) hey girl you are so solitude coded im scared. AND consider my speculation that future chapters will have the dream world bosses as prominent themes of motifs cause chapter 4 is oddly greed focused (the general plot of treasure hunting and theres Two instances of text being in greed yellow. can get screencaps if needed) what im getting at here is Spaceman Moonbase If You Make My Girl Go Through Windforce Related Horrors I WILL EXPLODE AND DIE (sorry to just chuck an entire wall of text in your inbox but you gotta understand how Insane it made me and opened my eyes to some. ominous foreboding vibes with best girl kyoko. hhh. HHHH BLOCKTALES IS SO SCARYYY)

oh my god wait. what the fuck. why are you right. WHY AM I RIGHT.

ive been so in denial about it because “haha thats my favorite character they cant do that to my favorite character” but this just made it so much worse holy shit what do you MEAN the fuckass dialogue isnt the only thing pointing at it

ive been thinking about the kyoko and solitude connection for a while. like since demo 3. girl why cant you talk to the people who care about you. its been a hc of mine that solitude would be her most prominent vice but if that turns out to be canon im gonna blow the entire game up

THATS NOT GONNA HAPPEN THOUGH BECAUSE KYOKOS GONNA BE FINE. shes gonna live a long and happy life and shes gonna reunite with calypso and absolutely nothing bad will happen to her because thats what she deserves. PLEASE

oh my godddd i HATE THIS GAME

[sharedblood]

the becoming what you hunt theme used in fanwork has such a grip on me- most often (outside of demonhood) being vampiric,, which is like my favorite anyway but

i am dying to sink my teeth into an angle that lets john see what hes done to his sons. bloody repurcussions for putting them all in the line of fire (which isnt to say there isnt the foreboding knowledge of the demon blood in sam and all that but i think it couldve been so Much More)

and whether he would hold his ground and hunt them and destroy the last little bit of family he has or shatter his boundaries as a hunter for his boys

[angstics]

buddie have never fought like That before. theyve gotten mad theyve gotten aggressive, but the foreboding Weight was Insane. this isnt a divorce this a SEPERATION

[sirsealery]

watched episode 1 of tlou season 2 .... have some thoughts ig (line break for no spoilers) (for potential upcoming events too)

sooo like. im kind of in shock tbh. opening scene with abby was .. good, i think. kind of a smidge miffed that it exists, to be honest?? i mean i know most people watching will already know what will happen next (played the game or just like. know.) but i feel like it kind of ruins the whole thing where joel saves her and like we dont have a proper opinion of abby yet? i think? i dont know, like at the start of the game we dont know why abby is there or anything but right off the bat we know immediately what she is going to do. which. hm. i dunno. definitely gives a very strong feeling of foreboding though, which is nice.

yall already KNOW im gonna talk about the music. WE GOT 'the last of us part 2' LETS GOOOOO. very happy handsing about it i love that we got some of the soundtrack !!! a little bit confused about the intro?? it was the same, which of course is fine since its a great intro, but i kind of expected the part 2 theme to play instead? and the whole thing just doesnt quite fit the story anymore since it isnt really about joel and ellie, its about abby and ellie (i mean. it is about joel and ellie. but you know what i mean okay). but whatever.

MORE ON THE MUSIC !! THE PARTY SCENE. AAAAAA. IM LIKE 99% SURE IT WAS GUSTAVO SANTAOLALLA ON THE GUITAR IM FLIPPING OUTTTTT. IM FREAKING OUT !!!!!!!!! ITS LIKE A STAN LEE CAMEO. BUT IN THE LAST OF US !!!!!! also i wonder if it was jessica mazin who was singing again? it sounded kinda like her although i could be very wrong. would be cool if it was, wouldnt mind if it wasnt. you know how it is.

joel and the therapist was so funny to me i was so taken aback by the way she started talking to him about her dead husband i did NOT expect that at all. i was so confused for a hot second and i thought he killed him during his time as like a crazy murder dude but then my brain put two and two together and now i feel much better. good times.

kinda grieving the loss of seths line in a weird way??????? like. what he said was bad. but loudmouth made it kinda funny ykwim. im not homophobic i promise .. im a lesbian ...

also joel bowling that man over was UNREASONABLY funny to me. like damn he put him right on his ass as he should. but then in this version it kinda makes more sense for ellie to be mad at him over it??? it doesnt feel the same as in the game because in the game joel just like pushes him a lil so ellie getting mad OBVIOUSLY has less to do with seth and more to do with him getting in her way, whereas here he literally knocked him over and ellie could be mad at him for that (i know she isnt. but still.)

also i was veryyyy worried when ellie started walking towards joel's house and he was playing the guitar. i was afraid that theyd put that scene right at the start of the show which. hm. no. but thankfully they didnt phew.

love love love dina and ellies dynamic !!! theyre so cutesy and i adore them my friend was screaming in my ear that this was they gayest shit theyd seen hehe. i think the show is making me like dellie a lot more than i did before.

tommy and benji !!!! i was so happy to see them theyre so cute ughhhhhhhhhh (it will hurt when he leaves so much more.) also i saw a corona ad with gabriel luna before the ep started and like??? lmao??????? gabriel luna on a corona ad of all things was not something i could come up with in my wildest dreams lmfaooo

also irrelevant to anything but ellies room is so goals like. damn. the posters and the music and the LAVA LAMP !!!!!

all in all im pretty happy with the episode. i was worried that the season would be a letdown but this episode bodes well. :)

[lefetellc]

✨🌈💖Doodles n Ocs !!!!!! 🌈🌈💖

I was energized yesterday, so I grabbed my pencil and started looking around for interesting ocs lol

(( @minoru-eno // Idk what Kitty's @ is.... ))

First and foremost was this booger

Cant remember what his name was... But I really loved his zombie//rotting body

If I have a second chance, I'd draw a bit more gorey or twisted poses with him, since he can just regen himself>>

Have to say, this sketch turned out the BEST purely bc at a character standpoint, its amazing cough

Second is how well he can integrate himself in the detailed, Jmilo style

And also cus he's a cutie patootie...

And well, most of my energy was really put into this sketch

I had a lot of fun with him!!

MINORU IF YOURE LISTENING GIVE ME MORE CRUMBS STOP GATEKEEPING GRRRRR

.

.

.

HONESTLY after drawing 'experiment boy,' I knew that I wanted to do KittyLilyHeart's oc, Amcy, next

I wasnt certain what kind of pose I wanted

So, in the heat of the momment, I kinda... Redrew her refrence pose..

IN HINDSIGHT i could've just read her lore ((bc im a sucker for transmigration stories, my pfp boy is LITERALLY from one + 1 Lefe Lore point))

I think that she looks so much more... savage-like? An almost fox-like slyness...

What really stood out to me was her wide smile

It would be a dishonor!! Of me to make it smaller

Soo...

Nayway! I wished I leaned more into her transmigration plotpoint

Maybe a high tech panel to her sides, showcasing profiles of her 'units' and current progression eithin each story ...

Ah, but from my own speculation, she doesn't necessarily like or want to do it, huh?

Her dialogue on her refrence sheet is strange; "HELP" written in a light blood, red handprints on her shaded figure, a glitched and foreboding scream "GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"

I like this aspect of her; it seems to me that she doesn't wanna be in this endless loop of romancing pointless people in a pointless story

If I had understood this earlier on, I would e implied ot better with the sketch

Hmm... Maybe a disgruntled expression while staring at a True Milo? A bit complicated... Ahh

I do like her though. I'm not fond of many characters, but shes got a place somewhere here

.

.

.

OK AT LONG LAST

Eerie Day

EERIE DAY, THAT ONE PL G*N OC

who happened to win a "whos the most unhinged" poll, cant forget that!!

Im surprised that he... Well, whatever

Pretty boy smh

Im showing his ugly picture, just for his humiliation fun!!

I

Actually liked drawing him again

.

Just kidding he needs to go back to jail

Stupid

ugly

Get in there, pretty face!!

Heh

One bad thing, put behind bars

Speaking of metal things, remember Opal? Yeah uhm. He's here too...

It seems like all my ocs are making a reappearance after weeks!! (R.i.p Cherry...)

Its been TOO LONG

and frankly I

Opal isnt suited for Jmilo style tbh

For one; no nose, no eyebrows, big boba eyes, unrealistic hair details

Ahh

Hes always meant for Jchan style I guess

Cutesy, big eyes, unrealistic hair

ehe, Speaking of Jchan style ...

Ta-da!!! A little present for coming down this far

Long road of me yapping

I like to yap. Just that nobody is here to listen.

Nayway!!!

Theres a few (ton) more ocs/characters I want to draw

Lots

All the milos, for one

And maybe another Pl oc? Ehe

Oh well~ Ill get to a certain nredeacterjecjevavtsbrsvg eventually

Anyway!! Heres a small sketch of myself!

My persona tbh... Same thing! Person! Same person!

Ahh

Thats all the tumblr images can handle

Thanks for seeing them all! I wish more people could tell me that I didnt waste my time, more often

Cya tmr! Or today? Its 2am... Ahhh

*falls backwards into coffin

[tss-whumper]

so. had an idea which was like. caretaker-turned-(accidental)-whumper virgil and whumpee roman. its w a superpower au and virgils powers tend to go haywire if hes overly anxious or just generally feeling strong emotions. and he hurts roman. and this happens often, accidentally or not, because roman cares about him!

so virgils trying his best to apologise, to make things right again, and romans terrified of him. because hes just gonna get hurt again, isnt he?

-🌙

( i LOVEEE this request dude. it's been on the backburner for so long cuz i was waiting for the perfect time to do it justice. that time is now!)

(i also love stories where the whumper doesn't know they're the whumper or doesn't know the extent to which they are whumping. so i snuck some of that in here for fun!)

whistle of the wind

word count -> 1.7k

cw -> physical violence, emotional manipulation, victim blaming, dubious consent (and by dubious i mean that it basically doesn't exist), unhappy and foreboding ending, sexual themes.

---

Roman carefully cradled his rib as he slowly tightened the bandages wrapped around his torso. The sterile white cloth was doing a great job of hiding the bruising that had bloomed overnight.

The result of last night's argument.

Roman tried his best not to hold it against Virgil. He knew his boyfriend was not abusive. Virgil had destructive powers, but he didn't use them against Roman on purpose. It was just when Virgil had that look in his eyes, that fear of being out of control, that things spiraled out of his hands. And Roman was always in the way.

It was his own fault, Roman tried to tell himself. He never should have provoked Virgil to begin with.

"Roman?"

There was a meek knock on the door. Usually, Roman stood up to answer the door himself, but he was preoccupied with his bandaging job.

"It's unlocked!" he called out from where he stood at his vanity.

Virgil came in, wringing his hands anxiously. The very same hands that threw Roman across the room with a tornado-like wind. The same hands that picked him up and carried him to bed after.

"I'm so sorry, Ro," Virgil whispered, "I can't believe I let it happen again."

Roman's mouth hung open for a moment. He didn't know what to say. At first, it was only a couple times a month. But as their relationship grew, these incidents grew more frequent. Roman was needing to bring concealer and bruise cream to work. His doctor kept telling him to be more careful going down stairs.

Virgil apologized like this every time. But things were not getting better. They were only getting worse. Roman did not know what to do anymore.

"You promised," he said softly, "You said it would never happen again."

"I know, Princey," Virgil choked out, "I'm trying my best here, I just couldn't control it this time."

"Can't you try a little harder?"

Roman's words rang off the walls of the otherwise silent bedroom. Virgil took a step back, shocked by Roman's harshness.

"I just- I just told you I'm trying my best," Virgil stammered, "If you had powers like this, you'd understand-"

"Well, I'm tired of understanding!" Roman burst out, staring into the mirror, tears forming in his eyes as he looked at the bandaging around his ribs. "I'm so tired of it, Virgil. I just got cleared to dance last week. After what you did to my leg last month, the doctor said I might never dance again. And he just told me I could dance last week. I was so excited."

"What are you even saying?" Virgil demanded, "Why are you telling me this? I told you, I can't control this, I can't do anything about this!" I didn't tell the wind to knock you over- I didn't make it do anything!"

"But you made it!" Roman shouted, gripping his own hair in utter frustration, "It's not fair! It's not fair, it's not- you still get to do everything you want to do! Your wind never knocks you down, or- or anything! Your wind never hurts you!"

Virgil stared at Roman for a long moment.

"Yes," he said lowly, "It does."

His hands balled into fists, and instinctively, Roman took a step back, clutching his injured rib tightly. There was that look in Virgil's eyes. Roman could recognize it from a mile away now. Virgil's face was paled, his eyes were fixated on the floor, his shoulders were rising and falling with heaviness and urgency.

"No," Roman whimpered, "Please- Virgil, you can't- I'm already hurt- it hurts- don't do it again, please, please don't do it again!"

"I'm trying!" Virgil exploded, glaring up at Roman, tears rolling down his face. "You have no idea how hard this is for me! Do you have any idea what it's like to be berated and screamed at, like- like I'm a fucking monster, for something that I can't control? I hate it! I hate it, I hate this! I never asked to be this!"

"Virgil, please- please don't- please- I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Roman cried out, his back now pressed against the wall as his chest rose and fell shallowly. "I'm sorry! Don't hurt me- please! I'll do anything, I'll do whatever you want!"

Virgil let out an animalistic, choked noise. The whistling of wind filled Roman's ears, and dread pooled in the young man's stomach.

Whistle.

Thwack.

Snap.

All three sounds happened in such close proximity that they were practically in unison. But it didn't stop. Roman could feel himself being carried off, again and again, trapped in a storm, flailing helplessly against the walls, the shelves, the dressers and drawers. Pain burst through his chest, and his arm. His throat went raw from screaming.

But then, as quickly as it started, it ended. Roman didn't even realize it was over. He was on the floor, surrounded by strewn about clothes and papers, still screaming and begging for it to stop. He could still hear the wind in his ears. He could still feel himself being thrown against walls.

Virgil could not say a word. What could he say?

When Roman heard Virgil's footsteps gently echoing against the floor and the door shutting behind him, he could finally breathe again. He was safe now. As long as Virgil was gone, so was the wind.

---

"Roman, did you want to do anything special for your birthday?"

Virgil had been doing things like this all week. Trying desperately to make it up to Roman. He bought him gifts, took him shopping, complimented everything he worked on. Roman honestly really enjoyed being treated like a prince, pampered and doted on. But he still couldn't help but shiver whenever Virgil's hands came close to his body.

"I...I'm alright, Virgil," Roman said, "It's just a birthday. And there isn't much I can do like this anyway. The doctor said I need to rest for another week before my ribs will be healed."

"Please," Virgil implored, "Isn't there anything I can do? I feel...so awful for everything I've done to you. You don't deserve any of it. I want you to have a good time. I haven't seen you smile in...in so long, Princey."

What was there to smile about?

Roman bit his tongue before he could snap that remark. Nowadays, he knew not to say anything to Virgil that had the chance to provoke him. It would just lead to another tornado from Virgil's hands.

Come to think of it, would another tornado come if Virgil was upset about Roman rejecting his advances? Roman bit his lip when he thought about it. He could hear the pangs of distress in Virgil's voice. That was always the first sign.

"You know what?" Roman said abruptly, "I do want to celebrate my birthday. Let's just- stay in and have a movie night. There's a new Disney princess movie that I've been dying to see."

Virgil raised his eyebrows, astonished by Roman's decision.

"You're really changing your mind...?" he asked hopefully, a smile already forming on his face.

Roman nodded rapidly, and he was able to breathe again when he saw the tension leaving Virgil's body. Who knew it was that easy? If he just did what Virgil wanted, then nothing bad would happen to him. The wind would stop.

---

Roman sighed as he sunk onto the cozy brown couch in front of the television, relieved that sitting down didn't hurt his ribs anymore. It had taken about a month for everything to heal, but Virgil had not created anymore wind storms.

It was stupid, Roman thought. How did he not learn the secret sooner? If he just placated Virgil and kept him happy, then there would be no wind. No harm. Everything would be perfect.

"Happy birthday, Princey," Virgil said, holding out a box wrapped in ribbon.

"Another present?" Roman asked eagerly, tearing it open as Virgil fiddled with the television remote.

"I was coming out of the store, and the lady at the counter told me that this is the hottest new thing, and- I know you like being hot, so I thought you'd like this a lot," Virgil rambled.

As Virgil was speaking, Roman pulled the present gently out of the box, his face going bright red when he saw the beautiful, lacy lingerie that Virgil had selected for him.

"Is it alright?" Virgil asked, growing nervous as he shifted from place to place.

Oh no. Roman looked immediately into Virgil's eyes, and saw that familiar twinkle of fear. No. Not again. Not today.

"I love it!" Roman quickly placated, putting a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "It's beautiful! I'll put it on right now, okay?"

Virgil's face budded with relief, and it was honestly adorable. Roman rushed off to put on the lingerie. It was itchy and tight, but Roman knew he couldn't let Virgil knew about that. Besides, he looked good. In the mirror, he could see how tantalizing the clothing made him look.

To not keep Virgil waiting, Roman raced out of the room, flaunting himself enthusiastically.

"Tada!" he cried out, hoping that the desperation in his expression wasn't obvious. "Do you like it? Is it great?"

Virgil's eyes trailed down Roman's body, to the point where he was practically drooling. Roman giggled at the sight.

"You look beautiful," Virgil whispered, "So perfect. Can I touch you? Please?"

Roman didn't want to be touched. He wanted to watch a movie and be with his boyfriend. He didn't want to do this tonight, not really. He didn't want it to hurt, like it sometimes did when Virgil got caught up in the moment. He didn't want to spend his birthday serving somebody else.

But what else could he do? Virgil looked so nervous as he asked. If Roman said no, then Virgil would overthink it, and get even more upset and afraid, and then, more wind would come. Roman was sure of it.

It had been such an amazing month. No meltdowns. No wind. No storms. Roman just wanted it to stay that way. He couldn't handle getting hurt again. Not today. Not on his birthday.

"Touch me however you want," Roman whispered, batting his eyelashes, not to be seductive, but to blink away his tears. "I'll do whatever you want."

[estinininininen]

Year of the Dragon heavensturn party in Ishgard!

Aymeric de Borel (Politician Face): As we gather this year, together as one people united under peace blah blah blah carefully rehearsed speech

Aymeric de Borel (Private thoughts): i wonder if ishgard is ready for those cool eastern othard snake dragon dances, and if i could get all the people who normally wouldnt dance cause they feel awkward in front of ishgard crowds, like WOL and Estinien, to do one together. faces hidden. asses primed for grabbing. it's perfect

Estinien: wh. why is everyone going crazy for this. this isnt even ishgard astrology. he's so confused. he stays near the punch bowl, keeping his back to a wall when he realizes WOL and Aymeric aren't joking about the Hingan dragon dancing. he spends all evening wondering when people will recognize him. no one does, until he wakes up the next morning hungover and covers the top half of his face with his hands. "estinien wyrmblood?!?!"

Ehll Tou: showing people how to teach their kids to make cute paper cut outs of a dragon and human holding hands

Artoirel de Fortemps: already has a headache at like, 9 pm. he thought he saw Haurchefant in the crowd, but he was gone just as fast, and instead of bittersweet joy it filled him with a strange, embarassed foreboding . . .

Emmanellain de Fortemps: tries to use his name and experience traveling outside of Ishgard to flirt, unsuccesfully. but he doesnt know that, cause people are still giggling and hanging around him. what's really attracting people's attention is the sign Sicard stuck on his back at the last second: "Am I As Tasty As Shiva? Kiss Me And Find Out"

(Sicard genuinely considered this a favor and not mocking.)

Ysayle Dangoulain: BANGING POTS AND PANS TOGETHER WHILE SCREAMING BAWDY DRAGON-HUMAN LOVE SONGS AND DARING HAURCHEFANT'S GHOST TO STREAK AT MIDNIGHT

Haurchefant Greystone: GETTING READY TO GO STREAKING AND YELLING AT YSAYLE'S GHOST TO KEEP IT UP OR HE'LL LOSE HIS NERVE, WE'LL PASS A CUP OF KINDNESS YET FOR MY SPECTRAL ASS

(Ishgard's only honest-to-Halone natural spirit medium, a very confused old nun halfway across the city: "Lo, the spirits are very Crunk this eve")

[idontreadtherules]

TW(?): themes of self destruction, chronic pain and venting

Ykw, the thing about pain is it doesn’t just “get better.” Fuck no. It moves in, sets up shop, settles into every nerve, every thought until its not just a feeling anymore, it’s the background noise of ur life.

Ive gotten to a point where happiness feels like a trap because the minute I think maybe, just maybe, something good might last I feel that sting of foreboding.

And you know what? self-destruction doesn’t look so irrational anymore. The pain never stops, and I feel like theres this sick kind of relief in tearing things down yourself. like beating the world to the punch. You think ah maybe if you can just ruin things on your own terms, you’ll take back some control. But that’s a lie too isnt it. The pain’s smarter than that cuz its already two steps ahead, feeding on every ounce of anger, every moment you try to fight it. It wants you broken.

And I’m tired. Tired of the weight, tired of pretending that tomorrows going to be different. The world keeps throwing “hope” at me, like Im supposed to reach for it, but all I see is a shiny package with nothing inside. The pain is so fucking real, the rest of it happiness, peace that’s the lie. And maybe I’m okay with that. Maybe, if destruction is all Ive got left, at least its mine.