#this fragment is long!

[lil-melody-moon]

Hello darling! Finally Friday, huh? I bet you’ve been waiting for this day to come 🤭 Well, I’m bringing you two new fragments today, very creepy ones I must say 🤣

But first, I want to make the release day official. You’re going to get the first chapter of the fanfic in two weeks, starting on the 1st of November. I know you’re impatient, but I still need to finish the fic, correct the grammar, and also figure out how to publish it on AO3 🤣 That last part shouldn’t take long because I’ve got half of it sorted already.

Anyway, the chapters will be published daily, which means it’ll start on the 1st of November and end on the 5th of November. Is that alright with you? If not, please let me know when you’d prefer them, but it has to be in November.

Now, enjoy the first fragment of chapter three❤️

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You needed to get out of the house, and fast. The encounter with Ernie at the pub had been playing on your mind ever since, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thought of him. He lingered there, like a song you couldn’t quite get out of your head. And then there was the other thing. You still weren’t comfortable at home. Every time you were alone, it felt like someone else was there, watching. It wasn’t rational, you knew that. But it was a feeling you couldn’t ignore.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a bit late for your usual evening walk, the sun was already beginning to set, casting a soft golden glow over everything. But you needed the fresh air, needed to clear your head. Sitting inside much longer and you were sure you’d go mad.

It had been two days since you last spoke to Frank, and the worry was beginning to gnaw at you. It was a strange kind of worry, tangled up with so many other things. You were worried for him, yes. But there was also that creeping fear that he might come back. The very idea of Frank returning was enough to make your stomach twist, to make your eyes sting with the threat of tears. The guilt that came with that fear was like a shadow, always lurking.

Pulling on your coat, you stepped out into the cool evening air. You told yourself you’d walk just a little while, enough to clear the bad thoughts from your mind. The streets were quiet, mostly empty, save for the odd car passing by or a couple of people making their way home. You tried to focus on your surroundings, the familiar rows of terraced houses, the soft hum of distant traffic, but your thoughts kept drifting back. To Frank. To Ernie. To the uneasy feeling that had settled in your chest.

It wasn’t until you were on your way back home, the sky now fading from gold to deep blue, that you noticed something. A feeling, more than anything. Someone was behind you. At first, you brushed it off, telling yourself you were being paranoid. But the feeling wouldn’t go away. You picked up your pace, your heartbeat quickening, and turned your head slightly to glance over your shoulder. Sure enough, there he was. A man, walking right behind you. His face was obscured, and that made your stomach lurch.

You walked faster, hoping he’d lose interest, but no such luck. You could hear his footsteps quickening to match yours, and then, just as you were about to break into a full sprint, he spoke.

“Hey! you alright, love? Fancy a chat?”

His voice made your skin crawl. There was something off about it. It wasn’t just that he was too close, it was the way he spoke to you, as though he had a right to your time, your attention. You tried to ignore him, walking faster still, but he kept pace with you, getting closer.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he persisted, his hand reaching out, brushing against your arm. “I just wanna talk. What’s your name, eh?”

You flinched at his touch, feeling a surge of panic. You didn’t like this. Not one bit. His hand lingered on your arm, and before you could react, his grip tightened. But then, out of nowhere, came a voice you recognised all too well.

“Oi! Leave her alone, you bloody fucker.”

Ernie.

He was there, storming towards you with a look on his face that could’ve melted iron. Before you could even process what was happening, Ernie had grabbed the bloke by the collar of his shirt, almost lifting him off the ground. The other man’s eyes went wide, his cocky demeanour crumbling instantly.

“I’m sorry, mate, I’m sorry,” the man stammered, hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all.”

Ernie’s grip on his collar tightened, and he leaned in close, his voice a low growl. “She’s my girl, yeah? You don’t talk to her. Now piss off before I make you.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stand there, stunned. His girl? The possessiveness in Ernie’s voice sent a strange warmth rushing to your cheeks. You could feel yourself blushing, even though you weren’t sure how you felt about the whole thing. Still, hearing him say it made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

The man in Ernie’s grip was practically shaking now, his eyes darting to where Ernie’s hand had slipped into his coat pocket, as if reaching for something. The bloke must’ve thought he was going for a gun, because in the next second, he was scrambling backwards, muttering apologies as he bolted down the street.

“Bloody coward,” Ernie muttered, watching the man’s retreating form with a smirk. Then he turned to you, his expression softening. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath. “No, I’m fine. Just… just shaken, I guess.”

Ernie took a step closer, his eyes scanning your face, checking for any signs of distress. “Good. If he’d laid a hand on you, I swear…”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, though your voice was a little shaky. There were so many questions spinning around in your head now, and one of them was particularly loud. “Ernie, what are you doing here? You don’t even live around this area.”

His grin widened slightly, and he shrugged. “What, I’m not allowed to take a walk?” But then, more seriously, he added, “I had a feeling. Thought I’d come check on you.”

The way he said it, so casual, yet with something deeper underneath, left you speechless. There was something about Ernie that unsettled you, but in moments like this, when he was standing there, having just chased off a bloke who was making your skin crawl, you couldn’t deny the sense of safety he seemed to bring.

Hello, yes I was waiting and I thought I'll die in the process - Gosh, this is a torture! 😂

I'm very happy about the release dates and the AO3 instruction I've promised you will make its way to you, I swear! 😂

Now to the comments!

Sitting at home alone can drive one nuts and I love how you portrayed it there - with addition of one pervert occupying my mind. There's also a slight confusion on what I'm feeling inside, which is honest to God, very good. I'm torn inside and I'm starting to fear, literally fear Frank's coming back home. Everything that once was would come back and the guilty feeling would eat me inside. You've actually showed it very well in one paragraph 💜

That fragment of a random guy following me, it so reminds me of the creep I've met a few years ago. The same behaviour and truly, there's no way I would speak at that moment, my mind rushing to a way to escape this situation, but it's night already so that would be even more problematic. But then here comes someone who saves me!

The impact of Ernie's behaviour is huge, I'm actually left speechless - wonder if Frank ever did something like this. The possessiveness though

This was me inside at this moment when I read it, I'm not joking 😂

Love the last fragment when we have a conversation. Ernie seems to genuinely worry about me and I can see a bit of a difference in his character. I don't know if you've mentioned it in send fragments or you just told me, but there is that different atmosphere to him when we're alone, in such rare moments. Lovely 💜

And yeah, just on a walk, walk to my home to peep on me!

[feral-ballad]

Joy Sullivan, from Instructions for Traveling West: Poems; “Instructions for Traveling West”

[Text ID: “you’re homesick / for all the lives / you’re not living.”]

[mournfulroses]

Mary Oliver, from Long Life: Essays And Other Writings originally published in 2004

[melusinae]

coco mellors, cleopatra and frankenstein.

[inkpressedpetals]

[flowerytale]

Nikos Engonopoulos, from Bolívar, a Greek Poem

[fairydrowning]

Quote to Owner / Somewhere, There's a Party by Holly Warburton / "The Prophet" Book by Khalil Gibran / Quote to Owner / Spirit Hold by Holly Warburton / "Freak" Book by Jonathan Harnisch

[brainlessbaguette]

Crappy Botw AU where, instead of waking up alone, you wake up to a skull kid trying to rob you then get to meet up with old companions of heroes you once idolized. While you work to regain your memories you also learn from them that those heroes were FAR from perfect and its okay to be a person first hero second. Or in less sophisticated words, an AU where botw Link becomes and STAYS an absolute menace to society. Because lets be real Totk seemed to have him go right back to knight mentality and thats not what I want for him.

[shisasan]

Buy her a book with your favorite sentence underlined that made you stop reading and think of her.

🜍 ⟡ ⟢

[saetiate]

⸺ on michael kaiser, blue lock.

catherine lacey // heavensghost // thirstiness is not equal division, kaveh akbar // miniatures, cassandra de alba // Elena Shvarts, “I was thinking…” translated by Stephanie Sandler // it is right to draw their fur, dave eggers // sam sax // Notebooks (2017), by Tennessee Williams

[soircieres]

‘— and I stood there, flooded with longing, electric, shivering.’

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. July 1950s

[nights-at-crystarium]

✧✦✧ "Fragments" - episode 44 ✧✦✧

It somehow didn't cross Vivi's mind that ascians wouldn't just stay on the Source and let him enjoy a new life on the First.

New reader? episode list on tumblr | webtoon Read 4 more episodes: patreon | kofi

[feral-ballad]

Kim Addonizio, from Lucifer at the Starlite: Poems; “You with the crack running through you”

[Text ID: “I wanted to put / my mouth on you / and draw out whatever toxin… / —but I understand. There are limits to love.”]

[mournfulroses]

Connie Wanek, from On Speaking Terms; Poems; "Confessional Poem,"

[griefyards]

The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir // Brokeback Mountain (2005) // Moon Song, Phoebe Bridgers // The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir // A Lover's Discourse, Roland Barthes // A Ghost Story (2017) // The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir // Candy (2006) // Letters to Vera, Vladimir Nabokov.

[ibetittering]

It's embarrassing how long the text took