#god the EMOTIONS in that scene…I am haunted
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based on these scenes of bridgerton: 1 & 2 and this anon ask 😜 thank you for your patience my queen. i hope i did them justice<33333 enjoy!!
the party on the house behind you was at full swing. everyone was having the best time. everyone was getting laid, drinking, dancing. just typical teenage behavior. you couldn't help but get away from that scene. so here you were sitting in the sand, occasionally sipping at your drink and observing the crashing waves. you wished you could be as free as the ocean.
just when you thought you had some peace and quiet, you see someone sitting beside you. no one other than matt sturniolo. why couldn't he leave you alone. you liked him. you really did. but you couldn't help but feel you were not worthy of his love. that you could only darken him. he was such a bright, radiant man, and you were just miserable. you loved being around him cause he made you want to be a better person. you loved hanging out with him, having sex with him, but you thought it was unfair to drag him into a relationship with you.
"so, what's up?" he said, finally breaking the suffocating silence between you. "nothing is up, matt." you said immediately shutting off his offer to talk to you. you got up and you immediately could feel the rain downing on you. great, you thought. as you looked up at the sky. cursing the gods that sent this tropical rain your way. as you began to walk away you heard matt shout your name, you turned around to see his wet hair sticking to his forehead, his baggy clothes sticking to his body.
"i don't know why you make it so hard, y/n." he said in defeat. "just give up matt, i've told you i'm not one to date." going back to the times after your hookups where you opened up your heart to him, your emotional unavailability, your insecurities, your issues with your parents. "just because something is not perfect does not make it any less worthy of love. your father made you believe otherwise. he made you believe that you needed to be without fault, in order to be loved, but he was wrong. should you need any more proof of that matter then look at us here. i am tired of pretending and i cannot continue if you do not love me. because i do. i love all of you. even the parts of you that you believe are too dark. every scar, every flaw, every imperfection. i love you. you may think that you are too damaged or broken to ever allow yourself to be happy but you can choose differently, y/n. you can choose to love me as much as i love you. that should not be up to anyone else. that CANNOT be up to anyone else. it can only be up to you." he cried out loud, you stood there dumbfounded, too shocked at his words, no one had ever expressed their feelings like that towards you. no one had ever felt like that towards you and that scarred you. how could you ever be enough for him? how could you ever love him as much as he does you? so you did what you do best. you left him there in the rain.
two weeks after that. two weeks full of guilt and shame for how you left him. you couldn't bear the silence. you missed him so much. you didn't leave your bed after that night, rotting away and hopping for the best. binging on snacks and watching rom-coms. declining everyone's invites to go out. only one person could get you out of bed, but you had ruined it.
so, when your doorbell rang. you couldn't help but groan and curse whoever was on the other side of the door. your friends loved to bother you. when you finally got to the door, you could've never guessed who you'd see on the other side of it. "matt?" you mumbled. your voice stuck in your throat, "no, before you shout me out ,i need you to hear me. everything i told you at the beach was true. i cannot stop thinking of you. from the mornings, to the evenings, to the dreams you haunt. my thoughts of you never end. i am yours, y/n. i have always been yours." he said in one breath.
"i don't understand."
"i don't know how to be any more clear, y/n."
"don't get angry."
"i'm not angry. i-"
"you look angry and bothered. look at you ,you are downright flashed."
"yes that's what happens."
"when one is angry."
"no! when one burns for someone who does not feel the same!" matt finally said. he had enough of this miscommunication.
"you... burn for me?" you said, your eyes opening wide and your jaw dropping.
"why do you think i followed you at the beach?"
"why do you think i went to the beach? i wanted to clear my head of everything going on. i'm so scared of love and you make me feel things i've never felt before, matt. it's scary, it's so scary that i find myself constantly running from it even though all i want to do is be with you. but i don't know why i do this and convince myself that i'm not good enough to experience this and you're too good for me to damage-" he cut you off by grabbing you and kissing you. "i don't care. i want you to damage me. i want you. i want the good. i want the bad. i want all of it. most importantly, i want you to love me as much as i love you."
fits them so well, actually
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#Spotify
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No, but the way they did Vegas walking away and Pete being the one to grab him and kiss him was SO SMART, like…they needed Pete to give an active ‘yes I want this’ for consent reasons and any kind of marginally balanced power dynamic, but…
…the way they framed it ALSO made Vegas need that because he was SO DESPERATE for someone to actively choose him.
And then Vegas’ surprised and JOYOUS smile when Pete does…
#I will never be the same#vegaspete#kinnporsche#kinnporsche ep 12#god the EMOTIONS in that scene…I am haunted
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hi i love your fics and I was wondering if you had any byler fic recs
thanks
hello there! in all honesty, i have not had the time to read a lot of byler fic as of late, but it’s been a while since i posted some recs so i’ll drop a few that i’ve enjoyed recently! as always, i do endorse every fic in my bookmarks to the highest possible degree, so always feel free to look through those for new reading as well <3
say it with your hands by pseudologia (@hellfiremike) — will is a new employee at the movie theater mike works at, and mike starts thirsting over will’s hands to a degree that’s downright detrimental to his employment status
GOD. this fic. i gushed in their dms immediately after finishing it because this might be my favorite modern will characterization of all time, and this is coming from someone who has a million and one takes on modern era will byers. this fic just checked all of my boxes — from the summertime romance to mike’s painfully in-character teenage angsting to will being a frequenter of star wars reddit threads and an enjoyer of sufjan stevens. and the TENSION. oh god the tension. i’ve read all their fics probably three times over each, and i also highly recommend like i am home again, a college au set during a halloween party which made me stare at my phone refreshing ao3 hourly until it updated, and can this be a real thing (can it?) wherein mike and will reunite in a gay bar. enough said
landslide by chamb3rs — the party’s senior year of high school
i don’t often reach for chaptered fics since i usually have such limited reading time, but i’m sooo so so happy i stumbled across this one. there have just been very few fics that have touched me like this one did. i blew through this in one sitting a few weekends ago and subsequently experienced the full range of human emotions (and then some) all in the span of a few hours. everything about this was perfect — the will pov, the weird liminality of transitional periods, the party and byhop family dynamics, down to my favorite portrayal of theeeee jennifer hayes in any fic ever. on top of all of that, this fic perfectly captures the heartbreaking euphoria of being in love with your best friend, and all the ups and downs that come with it. i crawled out of the ao3 tab covered in blood and my chest was hurting and i was shaking and i had damn near chewed my own arm off — and then i sent the link to my friend 10 minutes later and watched her experience the same exact thing like a train wreck in slow-mo HAHAHA
what a time to be alive by passerine_in_jade (@newlesbianprideflag) — will disappears and haunts mike from the upside down
i’m forever a total sucker for a good haunting metaphor, so it’s absolutely not a surprise that this fic is appearing on this list. the premise for this was so so so cool and interesting, and it’s another chaptered fic i’m glad i had a little extra time to read. the way the author had me rooting for mike and will the whole time even though half of the pairing was offscreen for a large majority of the fic is a highly commendable feat. mike’s unyielding loyalty to will and will’s constant faith in him felt so true to their canon selves, and there were so many moments that were so quiet and intimate and tender that i really felt like i was intruding on something. good good stuff
that’s what you get for falling in love by harriet_vane — will gets his first boyfriend in college, and mike, ever the ally, has very normal feelings about it
i want to preface this by saying that this fic is rated m, mostly just for mentions/allusions to sex, and one largely non-explicit portion of a scene in the last chapter. if that’s not your cup of tea, it’s easy to tell when it’s coming up and to skip past it without detracting from the plot, but i think it would be a greater detriment to not rec this fic at all, because it has quickly made the list of my favorite byler fics of all time. something about this take on jealous mike especially resonated with me — his inner monologue is simultaneously hilarious and depressing, and his obliviousness regarding his feelings for will feels so true to life without being overdone or cartoonish. you can tell just how much they really care for each other, and the conflict in this actually made me start crying because it felt so visceral and so fundamentally them. you can tell this author really understands their characters, and the love put into this fic is soooo palpable. it’s the kind of fic where you want to bonk their heads together to knock some sense into them, but you are helpless to do anything but hold on as you’re swung along for the ride.
finally, i try not to just rec fics written by my friends, but my recent reading list would be incomplete without these two wonderful additions:
the way you love me by strangeswift (@strangeswift) — byler exes (absolutely heartwrenching edition)
i’ve been hearing abby talk about her ideas for this fic for the better part of a year as she worked on it, and she actually edited and posted the first two chapters while i was visiting her! and by god is this world a better place with her byler exes concept in it, because if you want angst, you’ll never have to look further than her ao3 page. something about the way she writes will in this fic just makes my heart shrivel up and die in my chest — his quiet resignation, the bitterness (always love a good bitter will byers moment) and the Longing that never quite went away. mike’s characterization is also top notch, and you can really feel the chemistry between them during every interaction. at the time of me posting this list, chapter 4 is not yet up, but trust me when i tell you guys it’s going to soooooo be worth it. :-)
the end is here by bookinit (@bookinit02) — a speculative byler-centric season 5
if you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that haven’s canon rewrite series is hands-down my favorite series across any pairing and fandom. her creativity with her season 5 concepts never fails to astound me — from the scripts she’s been working on as an alternative to the episodes she rewrote for s1-4, to her ideas for possible plot lines, and just incredible writing all around. i’ve had the privilege of reading through her scripts before she posts them to her blog (definitely go check them out) but special privilege bias aside, it takes soooo much skill to create such a visually powerful story in a medium that allows for such little narration, and the corresponding chapters just totally pushes it over the edge. pre-s5 required reading for every byler, and 100000% my new canon if the show doesn’t pan out
this definitely is not an exhaustive list because i have a million and one fics on my to-read, and one day i will get around to reading them all, but i hope there is something on this list that strikes your fancy!!
#mutuals specifically there are so many fics i need to catch up on im sorry#once i’m done w school im coming for you all truly#anyways i hope there are some here you guys like! sorry it’s not the longest list and sorry i babbled#actually no i’m not#i have a lot of feelings abt fics i like.#these r all fics that likeeeeee. make me want to Write#which is the highest compliment i can personally bestow#byler#byler fic rec#suni reads
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Dethklok's reaction to knowing they're gonna die
So here I am on my bullshit once again. Just wanted to talk about that one scene from AOTD 'cause it's been haunting me lately.
First things first, the way Nathan's expression contorts with fear upon realizing that he might have fucked up, and now they're all gonna die.
Immediately Pickles' breath hitches up as he tries to confirm the information. Nathan is not any more optimistic the second time.
Then this: Pickles tries to hug Toki, who barely reacts, standing very still instead. Now this one stuck with me, why? Because Pickles is very obviously trying to keep up his 'motherly' role be there for the youngest one. Because of Toki's attitude towards Skwisgaar during AOTD, Pickles can only have concluded that the little guy wants to be physically comforted. So, that's what he does. He goes in for the hug, because Toki must be really scared of death, right?
Now I don't doubt Pickles' good intentions, but I think he's also projecting a little. He's the one having the most visceral reaction to what Nathan said. He's upset, he's terrified, he wants out. He wants to be comforted but how can he be when he's the one supporting everyone? He can't break down, he's been the backbone this whole time. So he clings to Toki, and feigns a protective role when really all he wants is to be protected right now.
Then you have these two. Skwisgaar is hunched, head hanging low, barely showing emotion. Just like Toki, he is shocked.
Murderface is avoiding sadness as ever, venting instead with his favorite projection device: Planet Piss. He's not sad about dying, oh no, he's mad he never finished Planet Piss! And he's gonna be a loser for it and that sucks! But he's not sad, he's just angry, obviously.
Skwisgaar doesn't even try to be a smartass or sarcastic. He's just defeated, it's not just them that are gonna die, everyone will. Everyone will die and nothing will matter. Nothing will have mattered at all because they will all be gone. Definitely think it's interesting that the guy with the biggest ego in Dethklok is the one thinking about how it's not just them that will meet their end, but the rest of humanity as well.
Murderface then is less mad, and more like relieved. He won't be a loser and he won't be seen as a loser because no one will be around to judge him. Speaks a lot about his fear of rejection and constant attempts to fit in. There's no one to fit in with if they're all dead.
And then we get to this, this. The callback to the infamous 'Sees you in Vallhaska' scene. This little thing right here drives me insane because, I can't believe they referenced to that scene, and because, god, the context is so much more different now.
Back then it was just the two of them, about to be slashed by MMA. And that's when Skwisgaar turns to Toki and tells him he'll see him in Valhalla. But it was just the two of them. (Important to note, though: in the season 2 finale Skwisgaar and Pickles are stuck in a similar situation but Skwisgaar doesn't initiate any interaction, and it's Pickles instead who does it, wanting to confess he managed to suck himself off before dying.)
But here is the whole band, the whole band is about to die. Scratch that, humanity as a whole is gonna vanish.
And Toki, right after Pickles tried to comfort him and he didn't react, Toki walks to Skwisgaar. He walks to Skwisgaar and only addresses him. And he says that he'll see him in the afterlife. He doesn't tell this to Dethklok, he doesn't even tell this to Pickles who just tried to support him. He doesn't even say it to Murderface who was talking to Skwisgaar just a few seconds ago. No, he says it to Skwisgaar only.
Toki tells Skwisgaar that they'll hang out everyday for eternity. And there's most likely at attempt at cheering Skwisgaar up, or even cheer himself up, or both, really. But he doesn't look thrilled about it either, he doesn't want things to end up like this. So it ends up coming as a (death) sentence, rather than comfort. And that's what Skwisgaar senses too, he knows Toki is reluctant and so is he because, fuck, is it really gonna end like this? And he's mad but so helpless too that he asks if Toki's implying they're going to hell.
And it's such a cold thing to say for sure but let's be honest the way Toki worded it didn't sound great. Not that he can be blamed really, their situation is so fucked up anyway.
But the most glaring thing about it all for me is the acknowledgment Toki has of their bond. Rather than wanting or wishing to stay with Skwisgaar forever, it's more like he knows, he feels in his heart that that's what's going to happen to them. And maybe it's not the best situation but at least they'll have each other. And that's just incredible to me.
Because back then, Skwisgaar spoke to Toki when it was just the two of them about to meet their end. Here, Toki is choosing to address Skwisgaar only when they're all about to kiss their lives goodbye. It wasn't just circumstance back then, nor is it a coincidence now, these two are tied in some way that goes beyond regular life and death, and they know it. And in a way, it's not really their choosing. It's just the way things are.
#metalocalypse#army of the doomstar#dethklok#toki wartooth#skwisgaar skwigelf#pickles the drummer#william murderface#nathan explosion#basu post#analysis#hope you guys arent tired of me doing this shit#this shit: reposting screenshots and going hogwild over analyzing every fucking sentence and expression shown by these guys djhsahjdskhsa#ive had this on my drafts for over a week already its time to post it
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no because, supernatural is absolutely a train wreck. it's a colossal accident that is happening in front of you that you can't look away from. it is homophobic and non-sensical and downright laughable at times but you know what? I love it. I absolute love it.
season 1 was absolutely beautiful. you don't understand, really, you don't. they had a piss poor budget, you can see that in every frame. but does that stop it from being fucking beautiful? no. it is stylised and ambitious and a fucking visual treat.
and this is like the first fucking episode. the shots have so much character! and that's nothing to say of the characters themselves. from the first fucking scene you can clearly distinguish sam and dean's character clear as day. their motivations, their dreams, their hopes, all of it. it's established so well. their dynamic is unmatched. does it also have a lot of garbage? yes for sure. because what in the name of hell was that episode with bugs? what glue were they sniffing when they green lit that one? no seriously... I wanna try some.
but then they recovered, cause they did faith. my god, what an episode. WHAT AN EPISODE. that motherfucking reaper haunts my every waking hour
like yeah, I love me some baby dean and baby sam going on their small scale ghost hunts while learning deep lessons about who they are as people and what they want from life.
also that 'laugh I nearly died' needle drop? where sam sees jess? god tier editing, GOD TIER.
then they came back with season 2. and here is my most controversial opinion that should not be controversial at all, season 2 is the best season of supernatural to ever supernatural.
what is and what should never be, hollywood babylon, heart, nightshifter, and the whole fucking season actually. not a single miss in my humble opinion. and that finale? THAT FINALE. beautiful, magnificent. ground breaking character writing, everything comes full circle while simultaneously opening up new plot lines to explore.
and my god, yellow eyes is an epic villain. he is a very viciously written villain like, he's... my god. it ain't a walk in the park writing villains, believe you me patient readers, villains are harder to write than the protagonists, always. well, at least the compelling ones are.
now season 3 suffered because of the writer's strike, but didn't miss much either. like yeah some of the hits don't hit as hard as the season 2, but hey, mystery spot, time is on my side, ghostfacers, bedtime stories are nothing to laugh about. those episodes are fucking solid, like most of the season. and there is so much raw emotion is sam's need to save dean, it just makes my weak winchester brothers loving heart throb a little too hard. also...
need I say more?
does the show did look little more washed out and boring? yes. but it's cool, cause we're moving on to season 4.
listen, I kinda just wanna leave all my season's critique at this. i mean, yeah this. this is it. this is the long and short of it; castiel. i don't think i need to get anymore into it
so season 5 is just—
i'm kidding. obviously i'm gonna talk about season 4, at length.
listen, being able to introduce angels this late in the game and then have them be a such perfectly hidden players is a masterstroke of genius. it just is. i am a writer guys... apart from the relentless fanfic as well lol. and when i tell you, introducing a new big player which is also (not so) secretly the next big bad and playing it off as smoothly as they did in season 4, is beyond hard. but the biggest home run these fuckers hit is castiel and the best part is they weren't aiming for a one lol. and oh oh, the way they use their very VERY limited budget to show wings with just flashing the fucking light? CINEMA! that's fucking cinema right there man. i work on film sets, i am telling you, this is the smartest filmmaking choice they make on the entire show. it adds so much visual intrigue while being so awfully easy to execute. BRILLIANt.
now i cannot talk about supernatural without talking about the deancas romance of it all, which i understand not everyone can see or wants to, which is fine. to each their own. you consume art the way you want to, i don't care much as long as you can acknowledge that castiel and dean's friendship was just some of the best written television that mankind has ever seen. is that too grand a statement? yes. does that make it any less true? no.
they even brought back the moody lighting.
and then there's the episodes this season, most of which are home runs in their own regard. just like beautiful writing, the character development for cas, for dean, for sam, even the late john winchester is wild. anna is a wonderful addition, so is uriel, and alastair? they don't make villains like him anymore, they just fucking don't. AND THAT GODDAMN PLOT TWIST AT THE END? man! the finale was just... too good. Chuck's introduction is absolutely wonderful, even if they ruin him by the end but that happens a decade later so wtv, who cares? But,,,, Jimmy. Fucking. Novak. That's all. that's the tweet. yeah. i'm gonna end the season 4 fan fair with jimmy.
moving to season 5.
subjectively speaking, this is my fucking favorite. this season is a writer's dream while also being their goddamn nightmare. so many WONDERFUL characters to play with and such a grand plot but you get to see it all on a very small, consumable scale which is just... it's too smart for me to not mention. i won't start naming the plot points and neither will i name my favourite episodes because what even is the point? all of it was fucking perfect. you don't understand how hard it is to develop characters to such an extent that they become so familiar to the audience that they know their next move before you even put it on the screen. and supernatural had that. they tied everything together with so much care and consideration, just... AAAH so good.
a special shoutout goes to endverse!cas, crowley and death this season. you all know it in your bones that those three were just the absolute scene stealers. especially death's introduction... immaculate.
they did lose a few points for not being as aesthetically pleasing as the past few seasons but hey, gabriel was enough to make a smooth recovery.
but this... this is the end of the road for me people. season 5 is where it should have ended. in no way shape or form am i saying that there aren't a few good episodes here and there after this, because there are. i think season 5 was so fucking solid, tied up so many goddamn lose ends and then just put a cute little hell shaped bow on top and i just... yeah. this was and should have been the end of the road. do not get me wrong, i love me some jack kline, charlie bradbury, kevin tran, rowena macleod and eileen lahey but were they worth the bullshit ending i had to sit through? not really.
i absolutely think if there weren't more episodes of supernatural I would never have become a destiel fan, because i started shipping them when dean made cas a mixtape in season TWELVE! but my god, the good times were so scattered amongst the horseshit that even when i found those hidden gems, they were so fucking drenched in the stink that they lost their value.
the worst of it all is that, i cannot explain to you what supernatural means to me in a million words, because it is a part of me, heart and soul. i fucking AM castiel. i am a gay little angel you hear me? i love this show. i do. i'm glad it went on for however long it did but i feel like once in a while i need to write shit like this or read shit like this to remind myself of the show that it used to be. of it's beautiful cinematography, of it's clever little storytelling techniques. of it's wonderful cast. of how epic their song choices used to be.
FUcking RENEGADE? iconic. wanted, dead or alive? cannot hear the song without hearing sam's off tune goat bleating that he called singing along.
i need to remind myself of how afraid i used to be of lucifer. of how much i cried while watching dark side of the moon; when dean and sam burst the crackers, and how i learnt the lyrics to knocking on heaven's door just because of that scene.
sometimes i just have to walk through memory lane and look back at gabriel's death, the good one, the only one. it was so fucking meaningful. i have to think of "we are making it up as we go" to be able to breathe properly because those moments were so fucking beautiful.
fuck the big ones, i even remind myself of the small ones, of dean's handwriting being in all caps, just like him. of sam's fucking huge laptop with that weird blue black sticker in the middle. of castiel's tie, that just was the right shade of blue, and hung all wrong but just naturally enough to add so much more to his character than any fucking dialogue could. every small little detail of supernatural that made it so damn supernatural. i miss it all.
idk. i'm rambling. whatever.
#superntural#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#deancas#destiel#spn#spn season 1#spn season 2#spn season 3#spn season 4#spn season 5#dean#cas#sam#dean and sam#i think it'll add onto this post later#as i think of more things#because you best believe i will
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to build a home ━ geto suguru ft nanami kento.
That was the end of it. They can't take much more of this pain. Suffering for a goodbye that would never be repeated. This cannot be true. They reflected to themselves. You also have a life. A different way of living. It's unjust to Kento, to blame him for their loneliness, their suffering. It's unjust to them, it's unjust to Suguru. They must make the first step. To make it final. To let him go for good. This is what saves them, this is what graces them in front of god.
note: i found an old draft of something i did and i thought it would be perfect for an angsty suguru writing, especially after rewatching fleabag. i started to joke yesterday that i'll do a suguru partner to 'time after time' and here we are now, me crying over what i made.
the final scene is inspired by the ending of fleabag. i cried through it but it really was something that triggered my heart strings. every good love story deserves a good closure when it ends. happy christmas again!!! let's hope this is my last idea in a while!!! its starting to make me cry too <333
Genre: No Curses AU, Priest Suguru AU, Fleabag AU;
Warning/s: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, First Love, Grief, First Heartbreak, Break Up, Emotional Scars, Forbidden Love, Star Crossed Lovers, Closure to Healing;
masterlist
play: to build a home by cinematic orchestra.
THEY DOESN’T KNOW WHY THEY WERE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE. The mass of such a dull cup was ultimately the most significant in that moment, reminding her of the heaviness that pounded through her shoulders. While they drank, their bright eyes shot into the already icy black pools. They could feel it, the way their pulse thumping with the power only felt when a hammer slams on an anvil.
A drop of black coffee shouldn't be pouring on the surface of that gleaming white envelope, their familiar seal on the edge. Like it used to when they were younger. Their pupils constricted as the cup clicked on the surface of the little chilly plate. The question resurfaced in their mind as if it had not already been blatantly obvious to themselves.
‘Why am I so scared?’ The words echoed in their head, silently. ‘What does it matter if it spills or not? It’s just an envelope.’
Though that wasn't just any ordinary envelope. They pursued their lips as the truth revealed everything without care for a wait. They felt another flurry of child-like recklessness within them once again. For a brief moment, their warm gaze was visible. The lost purity of their youth, which they had thought to have lost long ago, had reappeared. They sighed, unsure of what to do.
The icy loneliness of the envelope's borders, as it sat calmly discarded not far away from them, made it impossible to convey to them. The soft whisper of darkened skies made it impossible to tell if it was morning. Yet within their memories, the brightness of the morning dawn has always resonated with a pleasant unattainable radiance. They couldn't sleep again today. That day kept returning to the young soul. They felt as though it was akin to another grievous reminder of those warm-hearted charcoal eyes they had once loved.
They lowered their head, almost ashamed. All they could feel inside of them was that searing anguish filling their heart with nothing but agony. There was no peace in the confines of their heart. There is no peace on those nights, even if the moon sings pleasant things to soothe her to sleep. They knew that there was nothing but horrors. He visited their dreams almost every night.
He smiled so beautifully against the shine of the moon. Like that summer night where they first kissed. They were letting all the memories they had buried haunt them. These nightmares always comprised the sweetest smiles and bitter goodbyes. The cozy bed had somehow become an opponent. It seemed as though they were wallowing in a terrible abyss of quicksand in the luxuries of their cold feather bed, with no way out. It didn't help to stay unmoving, alone in this unmade bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling.
They had loved Kento enough; They truly did. But he wasn't home, he wasn't there to fill that space. To replace that emptiness, to make a home out of the numb loneliness. he was a merchant by trade. The nomad who ceaselessly took the opportunity that life had to offer. Yet he too was a serious man who took his responsibilities to the people he loved seriously as long as he could. Yet Kento was someone who had no permanence in the warmth of home.
When he was home, it was something that still showed the gaps, the distance that had come with their degree of separation. Their little arrangement, their little life together, had once been beautiful at one point. But now all it does is make them lonely, now it makes them infuriated. Yet there was no one left to blame.
What was there to be angry about? He needed to keep what life being lived going, much of that relied on him. There was little to complain about, when they agreed about it before they had decided to become one. After all, these years had been lived in a garden of thorns. Nothing was easy.
They should be thankful he had worked at all. Others have had a harder time than them, losing homes and the meal on the dinner table. Yet in Kento’s absence, their gaping heart was filled with those bright beaming memories of their first love. Everything about those memories were painted in vibrant pastels. Everything was so bright and new.
He smiled at them, rushing toward them direction as his dark locks spun across the pillows like a constellation weaving through the wide open sky. On those lonely nights, they did not want to think of him as much as they did. But one never forgets that long lost love. In those nights, they could not admit to anything but anguish and pointing fingers, blaming Kento for not being by their side. They wanted to blame him. It was easier that way, blaming the man they had committed to life with.
Because they cannot stop thinking of his eyes that narrowed down at them tenderly. They couldn't get those memories out of their head, their mind craved everything about that charming man who had captured this wanting heart all those years ago. They had created quite a world, nay a universe, just for him.
Everything within that universe was devoted to cherishing, worshiping memories of that man already dried in the inked pages. But they could not help it. Geto Suguru was too hard to forget, too hard to bury in the past. When you fall in love the first time, nothing ever comes close. Nothing ever comes to be beyond the world that had embraced them for years and years.
How much they had remembered all those years of being in his strong, warm arms. The repeatedly lonesome bed trapped and bound their body and soul to the seclusion of the darkness. Their feet were firmly planted on the floor, their body towering over the diner. Arms resting upon their chest, the echoes of their heart beat unlike any other. They knew that they had no feeling of coherence. Nothing felt real, nothing felt true. Everything had been a blur—a never-ending darkness that had cleared them completely, leaving nothing but a void.
They recalled the way they had carelessly bruised themselves when they had awoken from another nightmare. Mindlessly, They walked in the dark narrow halls as quietly as they could. They did not wish to wake Kento’s father from his slumber, not when he was ill. Their hands had been weak as they stumbled into the kitchen to get the warm water pitcher. There were no tears streaming from their weary eyes.
There was no sound from their lips, and no effort had been taken to prevent the spreading of shattered glass. They simply stared. They had no sense of sanity. There is no reality meter to gauge their consciousness. Simply as motionless as the fruit resting on the marble counter. They watched as the overflowing water pooled through the broken whole like a deluge had challenged the pieces of glass across the floor.
"Why am I doing this?" Their thin crimson lips let out a quiet whimper as they bowed their fatigued head in the heavenly air. Their brilliantly bright bonnet trailed behind them, shielding their eyes. "There's nothing else to say. I said that last time.....He was the one that said goodbye. I've been doing so great. And now….."
Yet somehow, They couldn't tear their attention away from the envelope, that begged bare fingertips for their warmth to give life to the inanimate pages of living, haunting love. To whisper those same words of affection that they had abandoned years ago, to match the fondness of the words within its frames. Their index finger marched forward, unafraid. The brightness of the platinum band on their ring finger reprimanded them in a scolding glow at that time.
They hesitated once more, their heart beating harshly against the flesh of their body. The reign of fears killed the resolute strength within them. They bite tenderly at their lower lip in anxious softness. They had made their peace with everything a long time ago, at least that is what they said. So there was no reason to be misled, to be misled by feelings settled in the corner of the mind’s palace. The shadows of their face reverberate like a ghost that begs to be finally laid to rest as the light weakly glows.
Yet, just like a wandering phantom wishing for relief, They realize that this was heaven’s bestowed fate. To be bound to the barren earth with the haunting memories of the life that had been lived like a gramaphone on repeat. To travel through the life they may have had, to torment her like her into a never-ending misery-like haunting bestiality. A never-ending hell that never ends.
Moving steadily, They held her hands into a chain, They felt the unending chill that only winter could provide. Is this how it has been for all this time since they split up? Have they truly been this miserable? Have they truly abandoned themselves to the abyss of grief, of longing? Of yearning for something that will never return?
The spring they had loved has yielded to winter, its vivacity has long since faded. They knew that too well. But they could not help but return to spring in long locked away memories. That spring was where they can admit they had been the happiest. The truest to themselves. Because he was there.
It was because Geto Suguru had been the melody of that song through the truth of the heart. Suguru's youth belonged to them. As much as they knew that their own youth belonged to him. That spring was for the two of them to own, only theirs and no one else’s. Greedily, that’s what they believed.
Those blooming flowers formed their gentle smile and made their heart pulse with the thrill that came with young love. It was the way he laughed so boyishly as he raced the length of the flower fields. Their eager gaze followed him, the wind eager to dance across those flower fields. The crinkle of mischief drifts through the sky to mingle with the beam of rainbow lights.
The lark eyed young man looked at them as though it was like sunflower beams. The loving words seemingly flowed out like lovely echoes of hummingbird melodies. There had been the sweet touch of hands wrapped around them with such happiness, the delight of being together as the sound of the river's quiet whistles.
It all came flooding home, that mellow breeze that led their love, in each and every moment they traveled the paths they had taken, arms locked together. Nobody had an inkling. Not even their parents. The spring dalliance, that became so much bigger of a world than anything else, was all their own.
It had been the perfect love, belonging to the two of them. The only one they had told had been their uncle Yaga. He took pity on a broken soul, they knew. Those eyes filled with such wrestling grief. That conflict, that wanting, that yearning. He knew it too well. It was his kindness that allowed her to escape Tokyo after Suguru parted from them, to save her from growing mad.
Away from those dark eyes that continued to watch over them in the distance. Those lark bright that only mourned him just as much as they did. There was an echo in their soul which reached out to him, spoke in such a terrible voice; a voice they didn't even remember having. It had been so loud and angry. Yet Suguru merely smiled at them, ever so mournful as theirs was.
'I mourn the person we once were,” He whispered to them in the tender gaze of the altar, looking at them as their voice echoed in the basilica's bright glass windows. “Such brilliant splendor that’s long past us now, my love.”
They could not help but feel melancholy about remembering the spring. They had come to hate it, even Kento just knew. Barely leaving their studio, abandoning the sight of warm blossoms of roses across the neighbor's front lawn. They decided to have to care for it any longer. It was too fleeting. Too young, too eager. Things that they were no longer. Spring provides us with a small sliver of careless youth.
The flowers in that spring bloomed, as did the love they both thought was impossible. However, spring must always give way to the beginning of fall. It was now October, and the hardest rain was anxiously awaiting freezing into the hammering winter cold. One in which They had come to be caged in. Like dragons of old who lived in caves in the abandon of endless silence. Alone to dwell on what was and what could have been in the present, which only deepens their agony.
It was the most heartbreaking moment of their existence. To watch the etches of their fair face contort to grief, to fear and to tears. The tears they had wished they had never come to shed. Suguru had been the one to tell them, to relay those words that ripped them apart like a harsh ocean wave rushing through.
The words of their father, the words of a man who used the woman he said he loved like a chess piece. To further his rise to the top of politics. They had been young then, when their father had bragged of doing such a thing. Of hurting their mother like it was a holy act in the eyes of god.
When Suguru informed them that he cannot be with them any longer, they were taken back to that memory of their father. That heartache that shattered the dreams of a child. Nothing was absolute in the world, not even love. Not the way they had wanted. Not the way Suguru desired. It was to be a sin, a sin that would go against the word of the holy book he considered ever so sacred.
It was Suguru’s path, he told them so clearly, hammered with familiar hurt—one that reminded them of their own grief. The two of them sat on the bed they used to sleep in together, the sunshine dulled by the venomous dark clouds which had gathered to see such a scene. But they remembered the distance that had formed in the sky. They remembered how warmly the tears of parting fell, one after another like the pouring rain. The warmth of the pillows grew cold with the solemn shadow of their own body.
As they sat there immobilized, their eyes began to echo bloodshot red. Their habitually loud voice was hushed into soundless sobs for a short time — they had no words to say. All that passed through their mind couldn't seem to understand, to register this new reality that was now happening. It hadn't occurred to them how everything had morphed towards something they didn't wish to be a part of. A life they did not want to change forever. It was worse to wait, to watch for him to turn to them and be reminded that they could not be together any longer.
It felt like they were walking towards their shallow grave. They could not do it, couldn’t deal with it any longer. He did not want to be miserable, as much as they didn’t. Being together until that moment felt like a dream, and now it is a nightmare. Yet remembering, repeating those phrases, those words, felt like they burned in flames. They felt like they burned every inch of their flesh into ash. It was the feeling of being poured into a wild sea to be swallowed by an agitated wave , to drown in everything. Suguru whispered those words in the past tense, tears pouring from his eyes.
Those words they hated, over and over. The value of those whispers of ‘i love you’ in repeated order, followed by buts and excuses, by deviation, by cancellation, by subtraction. They etched in these fragile veins and poisoned them to death. It was a curse, to love. And yet it continued, as easily as breathing. Those words had made a fool of them, laughing at them. And They would never be the same again. There was nothing left for fools. Nothing.
“But you love god.” They whispered back, brows furrowing into sorrow. “More than you love me.”
“I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of their hair, smiling ever so apologetically. “I’m sorry. I love you.”
Suguru had left that flat the next day, a letter left on the counter along with the keys. The nooks and corners empty, from where he hid his variety of morning tea to the little books he would read as the sun would rise to greet them. They stood frozen, staring at what had remained. The flat was cold, so dreadfully cold. They just stared, with their eyes burning in pain and crimson shine from the tears that would not stop pouring. They did not take it well.
They'd flung aside the blankets that had filled with muted tones of their disheveled look, scrambling across their face like a hurricane. They didn't want to think about it. They didn’t want to be reminded of it. Yet all there was left was reminders. Nothing but ruins in the once great space that was their own. That life no longer materialized into being, not here. As lonely as the dead trees, stripped of the foliage that once decorated their twigs. Life cannot exist where there is no sun, life cannot exist without the warmth of water, nor can it exist without the oxygen in their lungs. There was none here. Nothing was here, other than barren life.
Moving into a modest shack of an apartment in the far out districts of Tokyo, nearer to the other prefectures than anything else. Uncle Yaga was the one that had suggested it to them, as it had been far enough from the capital. It was a new perspective, a new sign of life — one that could perhaps heal them. He told them that he had once sought refuge in the far flung district’s vibrant feel, having departed himself once more in his nomadic pleasures. They had been blessed by his suggestion.
The bright street lamps comforted them at night. The sight of morning air that came through had been a gentle kiss on their welcoming of that first lonely sunrise. There was a buzz of excitement that filled them as they watched different people stroll the streets every day, suitcases in hand and speaking different tongues. They all were hoping, gathering their strength to start a new life, just as they had. In a manner, they were maintained by this encounter every day. In a sense, it made them feel like they weren't the only one going towards a new chapter in life. They were not alone for the first time in a long time.
Though uncle Yaga sent money regularly, they too were able to find some work. It had helped them somewhat, the world still reeling from the financial disaster that had recently plagued the nation. They have been able to save enough money recently. And in those times, they had come to be interested in pottery. They seem to notice the solace of it, having watched some locals make clay pots for their meals and as gifts. Soon enough, they wanted to try it all out. They had been eager to find the materials.
But they did not know where to start, unable to find the ones that they liked enough to suit the ideas They had in their head to come to life. A small sigh passes their lips. They had the confidence to think that learning would be easy, but it had not been. But They had been glad to have this moment to start something new. A new hobby meant a new life. And a new life meant moving forward. Life finally goes on.
On that cold winter morning in January, they met an old man who had come from central Tokyo only a few months before. He had moved to the city a while ago, he said. To be closer to his son who had become his carer. Having suffered burns across his body after an accident had happened in his home, his only child had been wanting to take care of his father so that he would not be alone.
They had been surprised about him. He was an intelligent man, but he was stern and rarely smiled, often in heavy bouts of pain. But they do not blame him. His burns had not completely healed. Often, it was only morphine that could put him to rest.
They met the old man’s son soon enough. Their neighbor, Nanami Kento, had been kind to them when they first met. It had all begun when they had struggled with their purchases from the market and he had been willing to lend a hand. He had always smiled at them with his thin lips, blossoming craters upon his cheeks.
He was a beautiful man, with his light blond hair and his soft brown eyes. They were nearly the same height, but it did not perturb him. Still, there were corners they could not reach, even with their height. Kento had been the one to help them, reaching forward so devotedly.
It was obvious that he had been a bigger man in a frame than them, though. Kento’s father had bragged about it, certainly. They could see Kento’s cheeks redden ever so brightly. They could only find themselves laughing along with Kento’s father as he reacted even more expressively. For a while, Kento had kept them company as time went by. That had soothed them and kindly given them something to look forward to. From the friendship that blossomed, they had found something they had longed to have in a long time — a true laugh.
There had not been any interaction with the two of them, for a time after that. Kento admitted to them that for a while, he pondered if he should continue developing affinity with them. When they allowed him to continue to explore the depth of that warmth between them, Kento had been certain to be nothing but good to them.
He respected them too much, giving them much more than any one, even Suguru, had afforded them. When they talked, there was not a semblance of awkwardness. Not once did they feel any dull moments hit the tune they danced to. It had been easy to just be with him. The burdens did not exist in his every touch, not even in his gazes. The warmth of his embraces had enraptured their cold body, eager for the warmth of someone’s care.
That made them feel relieved, to not be alone any longer. There was comfort in someone’s kindness and truthfulness. From then on, they had always been aided by him. That’s why they had felt as though they too would like to return the favor, taking the responsibility of taking care of his father when they had the time to do so.
They had conversed with him when the older man had no company in the apartment’s commune. Kento had sent them a telegram saying that he would be home later tonight, but the trains had a mishap.They had switched his reserved seat for another day and it took a while to fix with the officers of the train.
As such, Kento asked them to take care of his father till he returned. They had no qualms with doing so, having a day off that day. Besides, Kento had told them that his father had been melancholic after his mother had passed. His father needed someone and they were willing to step forward to be that someone.
They had not known the language he was now speaking, the deep thick accent of his words befuddled from the hale of medication he was taking. It did not seem he understood what they were saying in reply either. Yet during the times that he did, it had made them warm inside. Today seemed like a good day, where they responded back to them.
Today, he seemed to know what they had been saying though, smiling when they told him good things that happened at the market this morning. But for the most part, they created a language through actions. At least when the older man had been capable. But most days, the two of them sat to enjoy the day. Just by sitting together to enjoy the warmth of the small fireplace in their apartment. It was enough to have someone.
Kento’s father had been someone who had been interested in pottery, as far as teaching it for years when he had been a younger man in the capital’s finest schools. Kento had told themthat it had been part of their family’s history, as his grandfather had been a historian who studied the history of their family’s hometown. His father had become intrigued by the pots and vases they would find, eventually deciding to focus on such studies and practice.
It piqued their interest, for the most part, watching Kento’s father tell them ceramics he had taken with him from all the places he had come to work when he was able. Most clearly on days when the morphine had not overtaken him. Some he had made by hand, practicing methods that had long been gone and reviving them one motion at a time. But now they were only stories, his body no longer able to do as he wished, in particular, took her interest. Bright golden streaks echoed through the plate like golden rain, wonderfully varnished with nothing but the finest finish. When they turned a moment later to ask, they had gotten the reply.
“That had been from the days of old.” Kento’s father whispered to them, gazing at them with a small smile. “They called it kintsugi, young one.”
Their eyes gazed at him questioningly. “What is that?”
The old man gazed at them with warm almond eyes and smiled at her, speaking. “Something that is broken being fixed with gold, child. To be whole again. It is a kindness, an echo of beauty. A new life.”
For a moment they blinked, stunned that he had gathered himself in his chair with a painful groan.
“A new life?”
The old man smiled at her once more, faintly this time. “All that is broken — is not truly broken. It is just waiting to find a way to be alive again. That is why they used to fix it with gold. Life for the broken can be golden too. There is always a new path to walk on again, young child.”
That moment made their heart flutter, almost as if they had been waiting their whole entire existence for those words to be said to them. Warm words of simple solace were sometimes more than the warmth of the fire crackling in the room. It was the most genuine warmth against the winter. Tears streamed down their cheeks. They could only whisper, "Thank you."
Ever since then, they had come to be fond of the artistry of kintsugi—pooling as much as they could to the devotion of new passions. It was a new life they had been living, excitement pumped through veins. In these two years, they had ended up getting lessons from Kento’s father on pottery when he was able to instruct. It had been a pleasant time, having to spend carelessly after work in the wonderful pool of stories, of myths, and of time gone by that had suddenly made them forget about the mournful heartbreak.
When he was in too much pain, they nursed him to rest and afterwards, continued to do as they pleased with learning the art of the pottery. The wind that cooled their body from the open window had been refreshing, the exhaustion of work pondering their body. It had been for a new exhibition, one that had come after the other. It had been something that had surprised them, that such skillful artistry would become the wholeness of their current life. But it fulfilled them, it had filled the gaps they had with gold—to live again as they had always had. Forward.
In a moment as they dipped their hands in the cold pools in the bowl, they did not remember how lost they had been when the already gone had seeped through. It had been pouring lately, but it had been expected, especially as their quarter was always affected by the autumn rains. Pursing their lips, the young soul could only sigh as they saw the roof still dripping from last night’s wistful rain.
It had always slipped their mind, to tell Kento about the leaking roof. But it could not be helped as they gazed at the open window. They would tell him when he gets home from work, he would fix it. Leaning forward, they watched what remained of the rain pour through.
For a moment, their mind explored the corner it always returns to. The smile on her lips as they chased them, playing those childish games. The cold rains were heavily drenching their Sunday dresses, readying for church. But those lark eyes did not care.
No, they were paved with mischief. They were a wildfire, burning through with his loud laughter. Those were happy moments, their memories whispered, Memories that yearned for him, that adored him. Urging them to open her heart once again, to love the ghost haunting them. That moving forward should mean loving what was already passed.
No, now at this moment — they shook their head. They will not go back to those memories. They will not. They felt happy. This was their life now, their new life. And they are doing well. They are happy, even. Happier than ever before. They felt content in the already small space crowding in the wonder of sketches across the battered walls.
The round table is full of drying plaster vases, letting the hot sun beckon it frozen in the summer heat. The smell of charcoal gathered across their blackened fingers, as they rubbed them against the planned design. At that moment, the new path had become dipped in gold. And for that, they were grateful. There was no need. No need to return .
But when the night came, they nearly dropped the envelope.
Kento had returned, placing a kiss upon the temple of their head.
Their left hand over their lips, the ring echoing a tender promise.
‘Had Yaga give me up to him?’ They panicked, their heart beating wildly. ‘No, he wouldn’t do that to me…..But still, how did he?…’
“Are you alright?” Kento lowered his gaze at his lover, questioning them. For a moment he was worried. They had been tearing up, still staring at the letter. Putting his soft hands against their shoulder, the shine of the ring finger beckoned against the early dawn. “‘Hey, what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.” They whispered to him, wiping away their tears, and tore the envelope and threw it in the bin. “It was nothing.”
His gaze beckoned towards the bin and then to them. “Are you sure? It’s nothing bad, is it?”
“No, it was just an advert. Nothing important.” They gave him a small smile to reassure him. But his eyes could see that the light in his lover’s eyes was dim. “Selling me those ridiculously expensive silver pots again.”
“I see.” He did not want to overwhelm his lover by asking. He pursed his lips and turned to them, putting his hands on their face. Rubbing their cheeks, he tried to comfort them with his touch.
But they turned their face slightly away from him. “It’s just that. It’s not that important.”
The fondness across his lips deepened. “You don’t have to buy them, you know. I know you hate them. But I suppose the ad may be telling us something. I’ll take you, we’ll buy you something. Even if it's not the silver pots. You need to treat yourself, love. Tell me. I’ll buy it for you.”
“I just….” They could not find the words to say. Their heart beating fast, They clutched their hands onto it as though to beg for it to stop. “I’ll decide later….it could just be another waste of money, you know?”
He shook his head laughing. “Spoiling you, making you smile. It will never be a waste of money, you got it?”
They pierced their lips in a tender line and then smiled, nodding.
He sighed softly, satisfied. Kento put his hands on their shoulders and then their arms. Moving close to them, he allowed his body to caress them. They had rested their head onto his shoulders, quietly accepting his comfort. They had stayed that way for a while, Kento knowing he would have to leave in a couple of minutes.
He indulged himself to comfort them at this time when he would not see them for a couple of days at most. He needed to be with them. In all times he can be there, he will be. It was the least he could do, after being so far away from them all this time. He loved them with all his heart, after all. When they had parted, he grabbed his coat and put his hat on. He turned to them, smiling widely at them. Her fingers played at the texture of his trench coat.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible. I would not want to miss dinner with your uncle.” He tells them, caressing his lover’s long spread of hair tenderly. “I’ll hurriedly finish work and come straight home, hm? I’ll bring some flowers too.”
They let out a small laugh. “I’ll look forward to it.”
He kissed the edge of their temple and then their cheek before they separated once again. Finally, he gathered his lips around theirs and softly hugged them. They peered into one other's eyes, before they laughed. Kento whispered his goodbyes and heard them say farewell. When they had closed the door, reality shook her to its core. It had his name on the mail, written as sender. It had been Suguru's name. They hurried to the bin, opening it and taking the torn letter.
Tears streamed down in their eyes as they realized that the wound had reopened. The shadows of the past had come and rushed like a flood, like a sudden thunder from the skies. They had been found once more, they had been yearned for. Suguru had written to them. After all this time, he wanted them.
They stared at the torn letter and burst into a sob, guttural almost like an animal’s wild cries. In a soundless fall of their body on the floor, heavy tears surged like an infinite wave of ripping currents. Their arms shook as they clutched themselves, gathering over their shoulder blades.
All the emotions they had felt at the time, and yet still felt, hurried back to them like lightning striking the soil over and over. Everything had returned. All that they had buried within the back of their mind. All that they had fought to bury six feet under, they had all but risen from the dead. They couldn’t stop themselves from embracing the cuts of the envelope as though they were cradling the most precious thing in the world.
Suguru’s name echoed in the bits and pieces of shredded paper. After all this time, he still remembered them. After all this time, there was still that wanting, that forbidden desire. But it would never happen now. After putting Kento’s father into bed and aided him to sleep that night,their restless abandon in the pool of recalling tears called them awake.
And here in this lonesome space, with this torn letter — this torn letter that shouldn’t even exist. Suguru was now living his dream, his destiny, his duty. There were children laughing every day in the choir of the church. Satoru still visits, sometimes with Shoko. Suguru had taken in twin girls in the church, adopting them after their parents had left them at the steps of the large gates. He was living his dream, he had his life now. His life was now fulfilled. Full of the newfound hope and laughter.
Geto Suguru should be doing well. He was happy. He said as much in his appointment at the church. They were there, a witness as his dreams tore apart years of a home built in each other. Suguru smiled at them from all the way in the back. They choked a sob and stood, leaving. It was enough, seeing him then. Dazzling in the bright golden crucifix on his chest and the most beautiful black robes and that mantle of yellow–gold. That had been enough of a scene, that should have been the ending of those pictures in the theater. That should have been the end.
‘But his dark lark-like eyes. His eyes were grieving you.’
Reeling in a moment of rewind, the words in the card makes them feel like they were going to burst into tears once again. Suguru had become one with god, become one with the divine, with the duty of the sacred. That world is treating him well. They prayed every day, in the silence of their repeating days, that he would always be well. That he’ll always be healthy.
That he would always be happy. That god would always favor him. They knew that god would always be kind, god will always be merciful, god would grant their prayers. They knew that. After all, god has taught love. And in their heart, there was only love for the man that had made her feel what love truly looks like.
There was that day, that day in central Tokyo, when Kento had brought them for a day out with his father. They were going to visit his mother’s grave. In the markets, they walked and talked. Deciding what to give in offering to the temple and then to his mother. Yet it caught their eye immediately. The same long tresses of hair, as charcoal as the night.
The same sound of laughter echoing from the distance. Dark priestly robes beckoned his body, kind words poured through the sanctity of his lips. Behind him were two young girls, dressed in long dresses, trailing behind him so tenderly. Silver crosses were on their necks, a gift no doubt from the priestly man, the godly man, that had taken them in.
The two girls shared the same shine, same passion in their eyes as Suguru does. Jolly in the tenderness, they were so beautiful in the morning sun. They felt their heart break at the sight, as they lowered their parasol and let the sight be gone. For the past to just be the past. For life to move forward. It was better that way. For the two of them. It was better to forget than remember. Yet, that’s what they did.
They had wept ever so silently all night when they returned home, trying their hardest to not be seen by their lover. They did not want Kento to worry. They did not want to trouble him in his sleep. They did not want to cause more suffering. Not for them, not for the memory of the long lost love they knew Kento could never replace. There must not be anymore reminiscing, there must not be anymore yearning. There must not be any more curiosity.
‘I don’t miss you.’ They whispered to their restless heart as they wept. ‘I do not miss you.’
That was the end of it. They can't take much more of this pain. Suffering for a goodbye that would never be repeated. This cannot be true. They reflected to themselves. You also have a life. A different way of living. It's unjust to Kento, to blame him for their loneliness, their suffering. It's unjust to them, it's unjust to Suguru. They must make the first step. To make it final. To let him go for good. This is what saves them, this is what graces them in front of god.
Their hands grasped the envelope with a trembling breath. They chewed at their thin lips even more as they trembled and felt the tears flood. They looked at the envelope with eyes shaking, too unwilling to say goodbye. A harsh cry came from them as the shaking hands clasped together, cutting through the coherence to incomprehensible fragments that would never be whole again.
They gathered them in their hands and stood, allowing the tears to pour. They shut their eyes once They reached the bin, as if they were mourning a death. Even after these many years, perhaps they will always mourn. This was a tragic death that will never be forgotten. A death that would haunt them for the rest of their life. They apologized as they stared at the bits, whispering those words of devoted love that had long been banished from her lips.
They cried Suguru’s name repeatedly, at each repetition, it was almost like a prayer more than anything else. Those words of love died as much as their beloved Suguru’s name did in each round of breath. They said tearful goodbyes, each and every time. They murmured the parting words of her love. They watched as their body moved on its own and flung them aside moments later.
They put their gloves back on their hands and their bonnet back on their small head as they paid for their drink in eerie silence. The staff had not been there, but they left the payment anyway. The tears dried sooner than later, and their heart had no more space to become even more numb at each pang of the ache. But it was all for the best.��
Kento’s father will be walking soon, and they needed to arrange breakfast for him. They felt the frigid wind surge through their shrouded bodies as they strolled through the dimly lit streets, and They pondered if it was god above comforting them, just as Suguru used to say. They wondered if all would ever be okay. That they were pleased with what they had done.
Their lips let out a forlorn sigh as they slid their hands into the sleeves of their coat. They took a deep breath and started to walk home, the echoes of their footsteps merging with the silent cries of their heart. Memories of love, now tinged with the bittersweet hues of what once was.
“It was nothing.” They whispered to the calm air, convincing themselves. “It was just what it was in the end.”
They smiled and paused as they saw a falling star.
“I’m living well, Suguru.”
“I’m glad to know that.”
They turned their head up as they halted, under the light.
Their mouth opened as the dark eyed priest smiled at them.
He still looked so beautiful, especially now, under the moonlight.
They halted, facing each other, and the dim light revealed the lines etched by time on Suguru's face. It must have been a moment of peace for Suguru, his steps measured and deliberate, a silent echo of the morning rituals he once shared with them. He always loved walking, embracing the fresh air as the world awoke. The memory of those quiet mornings lingered, a haunting reminder of a love that once flourished like the flowers touched by the first light of dawn.
As Suguru drew closer, the streetlamp cast a glow upon the contours of his face, revealing the weariness that came with the weight of his choices. His eyes, reflective pools of regret and nostalgia, met theirs, and for a moment, time stood still. The priestly robes draped around him seemed to carry the burden of unspoken confessions and silent prayers.
He had seemed all grown up, his hair longer than it had been all those years ago. Yet, he was still whom they knew. The person they had loved the most in the world. Their very heart, right in front of them, as though they had never parted.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
Suguru smiled at the sound of their voice, his steps slowing as if time itself had granted them a brief moment of suspended reality. The street lamp flickered, casting dancing shadows that played across his somber features. His eyes, once filled with the warmth of shared memories, now held a distant recognition.
"Long time no see," they whispered, the words escaping their lips in a hushed tone, laden with a mixture of nostalgia and restraint. The blink that followed seemed to bridge the gap between the past and the present, a futile attempt to clear away the emotional fog that hung between them.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you too.”
"Sugu—No, uh, Father. Father Geto," they stammered, the words catching in their throat as they struggled to reconcile the familiarity of the old name with the newfound title of reverence. The transition from the intimate to the formal underscored the undeniable transformation Suguru had undergone.
A fleeting sadness crossed Suguru's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the divide that now existed between them. The weight of the priestly robes seemed to intensify, as if the fabric itself bore witness to the complexities of their shared history.
Whispers of the impossibilities that had consistently echoed in his mind for years when it came to them, to the life they could have had. The life they could have deserved. He was certain that their words shattered him, his mind full of chances and roads not taken.
"Indeed, it has been a long time," Suguru replied, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths. The use of the formal title added a layer of formality to their exchange, a thin veil attempting to conceal the depth of the emotions lingering beneath the surface.
A heavy silence settled between them, and the flickering street lamp seemed to cast a spotlight on the unresolved tension in the air. Their gaze lingered on Suguru's face, searching for traces of the person they once knew within the contours of the priest before them.
Father Geto, his expression a mask of duty and restraint, nodded in acknowledgment.
"Yes, it has," he replied, his voice a measured cadence that echoed through the quiet night.
They bit their lower lip, a nervous habit that betrayed the turbulence within. The words unsaid, the questions unasked, hung in the air like a delicate thread waiting to unravel. The night embraced the weight of their emotions, and the street lamp continued to flicker, casting its dim glow further upon the scene—a reunion tainted by the passage of time and the choices that led them down divergent paths.
Their eyes shimmered with unshed tears as Geto Suguru let the passage of time settle in the air. The chasm between them widened, and in that moment of silence, it seemed to stretch into eternity—a vast expanse of unspoken emotions and missed opportunities.
"Suguru," They whispered, unable to mask the vulnerability in their voice. The name hung between them, a bridge attempting to span the gap created by titles and time.
Suguru's gaze flickered with a mixture of pain and understanding. Yet in between, so much love. So much devotion – sealed away for what remained of all his life. Reserved for a lifetime where his yearning to duty, to god, did not win.
"Please," he began, the weight of his own emotions evident in the quiver of his voice, "Call me Father Geto. It's the only way we can navigate this... this impossibility."
The words hung heavy in the air, a poignant acknowledgment of the constraints that bound them. They merely nodded, a small, pained acceptance of the reality that lay before them.
"Father Geto," They uttered, the words tasting foreign on their tongue.
A sigh escaped Suguru's lips, a fragile exhale carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies.
"I never wanted it to be like this," he confessed, his eyes betraying a sadness that transcended the boundaries of their shared history.
"I know," they replied, aching with the burden of understanding. The streetl amp's flickering light cast a dance of shadows on Suguru's face, emphasizing the lines etched by time and choices.
The heavy silence persisted, a tangible force that hung in the air like a shroud. Their gaze fought to be tender as they remained fixed on Suguru's face, as though trying to find solace in the familiar features that had once provided comfort and warmth.
Father Geto, a master of self-discipline, struggled to maintain the mask of duty and restraint.
"We are bound by different paths now," he said, each word resonating with the finality of their choices.
They took a hesitant step forward, as if attempting to breach the invisible barrier between them.
"Do you ever regret it?" they asked, their voice a mere whisper in the quiet night.
Suguru's eyes, haunted by the ghosts of what could have been, met theirs.
"I would be lying if I said I didn’t," he admitted, the confession heavy with the weight of his own longing.
Tears welled up in their eyes, and they fought to keep their composure.
"I thought time would make it easier," they confessed, a raw vulnerability laid bare beneath the dim glow of the streetlamp.
Suguru offered them a weary smile, a flicker of shared pain passing between them.
"Time has a way of revealing wounds we thought were healed," he said, the truth echoing through the hallowed space between them.
The night embraced them, a silent witness to the intricate dance of emotions beneath the flickering street lamp. Time seemed to stand still, allowing the echoes of a love both tender and tormented to reverberate through the quiet air, wrapping around them like a shroud of nostalgia.
"I miss you," they whispered, the words hanging in the cool night air, laden with the weight of untold stories and the lingering ache of unresolved emotions.
Suguru, with a melancholic smile that held the depth of a thousand shared sunsets, replied, "I know."
His words, a testament to the silent understanding that had weathered the storms of time, painted a canvas of their shared history.
A brief yet profound moment passed between them, a communion of souls familiar with the artistry of sorrow. They exchanged sad smiles, acknowledging the pain that dwelled beneath the surface—a tapestry woven with the threads of what was and what could never be again.
"But you'll never leave God, won't you?" they asked, the words hanging in the air like a sacred hymn, a melody of unspoken truths that resonated through the silence.
Suguru, his gaze drifting to the ground like a fallen prayer, nodded with a heaviness that only a man torn between earthly desires and divine duty could understand.
"Yeah," he confessed, his voice a fragile melody that cracked with the weight of the choices he bore.
A bitter laugh escaped them, a bitter acknowledgment of the cosmic joke that played with the strings of their fate. "Damn."
"I'm sorry," Suguru whispered, the words carrying the weight of unspoken regrets, a plea for forgiveness in a universe that seemed indifferent to the intricacies of human hearts.
Suguru listened in the gentle embrace of the night, the words hanging in the air like a delicate confession of the heart. The flickering street lamp cast a soft glow on their faces, revealing the vulnerability etched in the lines of their expressions.
“I’ve never felt so homeless,” they admitted, their voice a poignant melody that resonated with the ache of a displaced soul. A somber laugh escaped them, a fragile release of emotion that danced on the precipice of tears. "To be without the person that made me feel like life can be a home. It’s as if I’ve been taught how to build a home, and then it's just, in ruins.”
Suguru, his eyes reflecting the constellations of shared pain, nodded in solemn understanding. The weight of their words echoed through the silent night, the gravity of loss settling like a heavy fog.
“It's a peculiar kind of emptiness,” he mused, his voice a low murmur, as if joining the nocturnal conversation with the whispers of the wind. "To have known the warmth of a home, only to find it reduced to ruins. The echoes of what was linger in the cracks, haunting the spaces that once held promises."
The person's gaze, a reflection of a universe in turmoil, met Suguru's.
"You were my home," they confessed, the words carrying the weight of unspoken dreams and the fragments of a life that now lay in ruins.
Suguru, his heart heavy with the acknowledgment of what had been lost, replied, "And you were mine." His voice, a gentle breeze that carried the scent of nostalgia, painted the canvas of their shared memories. "You'll always be."
"I know." They replied back, pointing to the middle of their chest. "You'll always find your way into a house here too."
The night wrapped around them, a silent witness to the unraveling of a love that had once been the cornerstone of their existence. The street lamp flickered, casting a dance of shadows on the remnants of their shared dreams, now scattered like stardust in the cosmic expanse.
As they stood beneath the dim glow, Suguru reached out, a silent offering of solace in the face of their shared homelessness. The person, their eyes brimming with unshed tears, accepted the gesture, a fragile connection in the midst of ruins.
"It's okay not to have all the answers," Suguru whispered, his words a gentle reassurance, a beacon of understanding in the night. "Sometimes, the process of rebuilding begins with acknowledging the ruins."
"Did you do the same?"
He laughs somberly.
"I'll still have to learn to. Just like you." He whispers back to them, tilting his head at them. "It's often hard, when you love someone so much. There's too much to want, too much to remember. But also too much to forget."
They pursed their lips at him.
"Do you want to forget me?"
He shakes his head.
"No. Never."
They dug deeper into their pockets.
"You know, the worst thing is, after all this time, I don't think I've stopped loving you," they confessed, the admission tearing at the seams of their heart like a love letter written on the pages of time. "I still love you. Even if I have someone to love now, I still love you."
There was panic in his eyes for a moment. As though those three words being said paralyzed him. As though they compelled him. The mere three words echoing in his ears made him feel as though he would break covenant to god the moment he heard them. He would sin and he would sin knowing his heart would not be guided by reason. Love after all, does not have reason. Love is just love.
Suguru, looking at them with eyes that mirrored the reflection of constellations, pleaded, "No, no, don't."
"Let's just leave that out there just for a second on its own," they said, a brief huff following as they gathered the shattered remnants of their composure. "It needs to be said, one last time."
Suguru, resigned to the bitter reality that hung between them like a faded photograph, nodded with a quiet acceptance. He offered a smile, fragile as porcelain. "Alright."
"I love you," they declared, the words a sacred offering hung in the air, a requiem for a love that refused to be extinguished, a melody that echoed through the chambers of their shared history.
Suguru, offering a tender smile, whispered, "It'll pass."
"I know," they replied, their voice carrying the wisdom of a soul that had danced with the fleeting nature of love, accepting the transient beauty of their shared pain.
As if prompted by an unseen force, they both turned, their hearts guiding them toward separate destinies. They who is still tethered to the past, lingered in the shadows of what could have been, as if waiting for a final resolution that might never come. Suguru, facing the far reach of the church's dome like a silent sentinel, took a moment to compose himself, tears betraying the stoic facade he wore as a priest.
"I love you too," Suguru confessed, the words a whispered goodbye, a final benediction offered to a love that had been both a sanctuary and a storm.
And then, with a heavy silence enveloping them like a shroud, they finally parted ways. Each step echoed the closing of a chapter, a poignant farewell etched into the fabric of their souls—a bittersweet symphony played beneath the dim glow of a street lamp, where love and destiny converged and diverged in the grand tapestry of life.
There is still a home, built the soul of those you love.
They walked away, they couldn’t help smiling through the tears.
There’s always going to be that home, made just for each other.
They live on together, small crevices of the soul just for each other.
They'll be fine.
Suguru would be fine.
They'll always build a home.
Together.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fic#jjk angst#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk drabbles#jjk x gender neutral reader#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#jjk suguru#getou suguru x reader#getou suguru#getou x reader#jjk geto#suguru geto#geto#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami jjk#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami
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Alright I have just finished Season 1 of TWD DD and I have thoughts and questions and feelings. And energy!
I am very new to this fandom, and while I've done some searches in places, I'll still just apologise in advance for being repetitive and missing stuff. I will miss stuff every time.
I'll get Laurent out of the way, and even though it's all connected for me, the rest is Caryl.
#1 So Laurent. I have questions about his ability to see into the future. He was convinced Daryl would survive the Gladiator battle, he knew they'd all end up back together. Is this a real thing? Is it coincidence in faith? The drawing I don't care about, I'm not sure how involved he is with the manipulations, but he should definitely be able to feel that this is happening with Isabelle, given his empathic nature. So in that case, does he sense there is a reason to go along with her ways, for a future purpose we don't know about yet.
The empathic thing:
Episode 1, he says to Daryl "You're homesick. I see it in your eyes. I feel things. In my stomach. I feel your sadness." Episode 5, he tells Madame Genet that she isn't angry; her heart is broken.
He can distinguish sadness between heartbreak and homesickness- these are very specific feelings. Are there more examples? Not sure when I'll be able to watch it back. Is this significant? Is there a point to this? Is he going to make the match? Is he going to be overwhelmed by Carol's grief and guilt, though hopefully she'll just be happy and relieved when he meets her (hopefully!!).
"Daryl why don't you just kiss Carol like she wants you to?"
What are the rules around this? I don't know how it works.
#2 Second up! The boats. Is there any evidence that any of the boats have any significance? I know they probably just make sense with the location and the storyline, etc. But when Laurent cuts the boat loose, Daryl is losing his most immediate TANGIBLE lifeline to Carol and that is because a BOAT has drifted. A boat.
Okay, and also, I was thinking about this on my long drive to work this morning and I swear to the husks of dust on my Jim Shore Dorothy and Glinda figurine, Spotify threw THIS song I've never heard before at me. Yes, PIRATE song. Pirate song by mehro. But dear god the lyrics.
"Are you ready to let me in?"
"I've been trying to believe what I said is what I need."
This is such a haunting, beautiful song. I'm so thrilled to discover this artist. I'm not immune to dissolving into a puddle on the side of the road when I hear a new song that spins me out. I feel things so intensely. I'm going to do a post just for this song. This song is Caryl to me.
#3 Daryl's longing for Carol in a ramble:
I like the connection between Daryl saying "I have family back home," and Carol in the teaser clip saying Daryl is the only family she has left. It feels like a string, tying them together. Feels like they're on the same damn boat. Emotionally.
I just want to touch on the name dropping Who Are Your Friends scene with Laurent. Even though I have no idea whether this scene is supposed to have any significance or if it's just supposed to be a simple moment of connection for these two. Regardless, it is significant. Every second beyond about a week just is. So to touch on Laurent again, I'm just wondering is it possible that Daryl's a little guarded here, because he knows the kid's intuitive? Does he feel like he needs to be more careful with his emotions? He's already elevated. But he says Connie's name really easily. It's easy for him to say her name and I think that says a lot. He's trying to connect with the kid, so of course Judith and RJ pop up. Daryl got himself started, and there's a very slight gap, while he's thinking before he offers up Ezekiel. That's where he should say Rosita but she's gone, or Aaron (but too much missage? Their bond), Michonne's not there! Oh, Ezekiel! They were starting to get along? They had a hug and everything? I don't know. I like the link between Connie and Ezekiel though. Anyway Daryl has to say Carol because she is his heartbeat, so he manages to get that out and then he stops. No more names.
Laurent says they sound nice and is Daryl's response a little defensive? Even though Laurent's just a kid, he's a little intense. Daryl says, "Yeah, how do you know?"
I think that's interesting. Like he's shared as much as he's comfortable sharing and then he wants to bundle his family back up again. It's painful to talk about Carol because he misses her and he promised her and she cried when he left and she is his soulmate. She's a little too precious and valuable to be spoken about by someone who hasn't even met her.
Alrighty now I need to go find some gifs for that song post.
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Good morning princess 💗- chapter 2 - Colby x y/n
the first chapter of this book is on my account it’s called midnight cuddles 🥰
SUMMARY: Sam find out about you and Colby and you drive to the sallie house.
CONTENTS : just fluff
I slowly stir from my peaceful sleep of laying on Colby’s chest.
“ good morning princess” he said in a husky morning voice and then kissed me on the top of the head then I heard the door open and and saw Sam
“ hey Colby wake up it’s time to hunt some gh- oh” he stopped taking in the scene of me in Colby’s bed him shirtless and me with hickeys all over my neck “am I interrupting something?”
“oh no we just-“
“No I’m happy for you it’s just a bit of shock seeing two of my best friends in bed together” replied Sam
“ we didn’t sleep together if that’s what your implying” Colby says getting up from the bed and going into the bathroom to change
Sam left the room because you two weren’t ready yet and you went back to your room to get ready. You put on grey pants and a blue tye dye shirt and an xplr hoodie. In the mirror even with your sweatshirt on you could very clearly see the passionate hickeys Colby gave you last night. But you decided not to cover them up. You wanted to show the World that you were his and he was yours.
you all went down for the hotel breakfast. They had a waffle maker and we all made our own waffles. I put a bunch of whipped cream on mine and Sam put a lot of cherries on his. Then we got into the car for a 2 hour drive with Sam in the front seat and me and Colby in the back. Colby said he wanted to sit in the back so he could be with me
An hour later-
(Colby’s pov)
I leaned against the window looking at the view of the water. Y/n was fast asleep her head on my lap and my sweatshirt covering her as a blanket
god she is so beautiful. She looks like a goddess. I thought how did I ever end up with her? I felt like I was living a dream. I’m dating my longtime crush! Even though we’re headed to a creepy house I felt like I was on top of the world.
“y/n’s asleep” I said softly to Sam while stroking her head on my lap.
“ so are you guys like…together now?”
“yeah” I smiled “ she’s my girlfriend” I have had a few girlfriends before but I have never been able to hold them for long. And they didn’t feel real like y/n did. I truly feel like I love her
“It’s not everyday that you get to be with your lifelong crush, just treat her well she’s like a little sister to me” Sam said
(end of Colby’s pov)
“y/n wake up” I stirred from my nap on Colby’s lap. I blushed he should have woke me up I probably made his legs numb laying on them for an hour. “We’re here” he said softly. I felt a pit drop in my stomach as Got out of the car and looked at what was one of the most haunted houses in America. This is the house that shocked the pros I swallowed hard in the back of my throat. Colby noticed and intertwined his hands with mine And squeezed them to reassure me. Sam got out of the car and started stretching.
“Ready to go into the sallie house?” He said
“hell yeah” Colby replied
“well its now or never” I said as we walked up to the house and rang the doorbell.
AUTHORS NOTE : sorry this is a short chapter I had a really bad day but I liked writing it
here’s a song recommendation for this chapter and just a song recommendation in general one of my favorites so check out Love and Other Emotions
#colby x reader#colby brock fic#sam and colby#sam golbach#xplr#colby brock fanfic#fanfic#colby brock fluff#youtuber crushes#Colby x y/n#ghost hunting#hot celebs#celebrity crush#cute guy
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Round 2 of 8, Group 4 of 4
propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)
Bones: 2.09 Aliens in a Spaceship / 2.10 The Headless Witch in the Woods
tw Dead bodies (two kids), someone gets hit by a car, emergency first aid, blood and gore.
When Hodgins and Brennan are buried alive, it's a race against time and a kidnapper who doesn't negotiate. / The headless skeleton of a young man is found in a state forest. Brennan and Booth's investigation becomes entangled in the local legend of a woman who was decapitated as a witch in the 1780s and is said to still haunt the forest.
Bones and Hodgins have to use their knowledge to help save themselves before they run out of air, while the rest of the crew frantically try to find them in time. Angst, science, and murders. What more could you ask for?
Lego Ninjago: 3.08 Episode 34 The Titanium Ninja
TW major character death
The ninja repair the broken Arcturus ship to return home. When they do, they find the Overlord has used the golden weapons to return to the physical world as the all powerful Golden Master.
First on screen character death of the show one of the main characters gets incinerated by a god as he sacrifices his life to defeat them so many people dropped the show after just hearing the music played during they scene can make me cry
There are so many good lines from his funerals scene they describe Zane so well the guy who died had ice powers and the funeral took place in July and! It! Started! Snowing! When! Kai! Gave! His! Eulogy!
I am so very emotional about it I love it so so much you would not believe
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i see so much praise for haunting adeline in the dark romance space, but honestly i couldn't make it past a grown 6ft+ man hiding in a woman's wardrobe so idk if it was good or not.
If you like this book, I need you to look away because oh my god how I have been WAITING for someone to ask me about it. I wasn't going to bring it up, and I'm not going to talk about it by myself, but I WILL if someone ELSE asks me to.
First of all, HA and it's sequel are QAnon fanfiction. That should be enough to give people pause but it's not CLEARLY because everyone goes on and on about how good this book is. So lets set aside the blatant, in your face unavoidable anti-semitism for just a moment to discuss all my other problems with it (And do not come here and tell me the author changed the evil bad guys name, like congrats you made your coding a little more subtle).
First of all: the writing is so atrocious that even for trash, I question how people are reading it. And my only conclusion is that people HAVE to be skimming it, which explains how so much of the plot escapes people and they miss the aforementioned problems. Like quality-wise, the book is horrible and I don't think an editor with time could really fix it.
Secondly: I genuinely feel like a lot of dark romance authors forget that dark romance still requires ROMANCE to be part of their novels. A dark haired serial killer breaking into your house and saying, "no I want you so you're mine" is actually not romance. Do people know this? I feel insane sometimes looking at "dark romance" recs because there is 0 romance to it. There is no falling in love, there is no kindness, no emotional building, just an endless stream of crimes committed against the FMC until she agrees she likes being treated badly and sex becomes the stand in for emotional intimacy
Which of course takes me to point three: the smut is SO BAD I literally LOSE IT when people are like, oh the smut is SO GOOD LMAO STOP IT. Stop it right now, I skipped ahead once I realized I was never going to get there organically and like. I feel like I might get accused of being a prude, my issue isn't what's happening, it is HOW IT IS WRITTEN. The scenes are so dry, so uninspired, trying to be shocking for the sake of shock value rather than creating something that would be interesting and sexy. Words actually matter when you're writing, do some of the authors know that?
Anyway I loathe these books more than any other fast fiction KU book. I think I could come up with more positive things to say about Zodiac Academy than I can with the Haunting Adeline series. I am it's #1 hater
#haters bookclub#I'm not sure how to tag this to both avoid stans from being upset and keep people from defending it in my askbox
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Okay I just finished another chapter in Time of Contempt, and I have a couple thoughts.
First of all, I appreciate the small bouts of Humor that Andrzej Has speckled throughout the serious scenes, it gives me a break from the overall drastic nature of it
Secondly, tissaia.
I cant choose wether I like show tissaia or Book Tissaia more. They are both VERY similar, And I appreciate both of them but oh my god the spell of Last resort scene in the book was just, Haunting.
The moment where Triss was screaming at her to stop, and Tissaia only pausing to help triss get away gets to me. She tells Triss that even though she made a mistake she still loves her, and that makes me unbelievably emotional. Her interactions with phillipa as well? Im obsessed.
“I was proud of you phillipa, but now I am filled with nothing but contempt for you.” Chills. Literal chills.
I definitely like that We got to see more of Tissaia and Phil in the books than the show. In the show they just kind of trade a couple snarky remarks and glare at eachother but in the books there is genuine Regret and hatred from Tissaia and Anger and defiance from Phillipa thats just- so interesting to read about.
Im also almost glad that Tissaia ends up dying because I know if she survived Geralt probably would have screwed her at some point.
#tissaia de vries#the witcher#the witcher is so cool#the witcher show#the witcher books#phillipa eilhart#geralt of rivia#triss merigold#books#book#bookblr#i really really love tissaia
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Hey there! I recently reread your Crybaby fic (the horror was so descriptive and cleverly psychological! had me on edge throughout the whole story all over again) and I hope you don't mind if send you this big ask!! But I would really like to know what meaning their relationship has, especially from Threat's perspective. If I remember right I saw you answer an ask (must have been months ago) about Threat tapping when Crybaby blocked off their advances – so Threat does have a sort of ownership sense over Crybaby, but is there more to it? (the ring scene was cute; Threat feels generally very touchy-feely, boundary pushing) Did they scare Crybaby on purpose, for the paranoia and emotional terror? (I'm assuming they stalked Crybaby too, on campus and near the forest) I also love the way Crybaby is not completely oblivious to Threat's weird behaviour and is pretty 'lucid'/suspicious/aware? for someone who get terrorised and tapped the shit out of their mind. I'd love it if you could share some thoughts about that, I'm very curious, this work has been haunting me in the best way possible! I'm obsessed with this OC, (although both are really polished characters!!) was Threat limited to only this main piece of work or could there potentially be more? (the bar one was great too, I'm getting antsy just thinking about the different endings) –Lots of love!!!
Oh my god you're so kind, I am so deeply proud of the Crybaby fic and I'm glad it's still getting love. I feel like I'm at a con panel rn ehehehe :D I'm going to do my best to answer your questions in a way that makes sense, and doesn't devolve into me just rambling <3
What's the meaning of their relationship(especially from Threat's perspective)?
This is actually a little complicated but I'm going to do my best. For Crybaby, Threat is a close friend and potentially a lover. We hear from Threat that they've done this dance(Crybaby running) multiple times and that Crybaby has attempted to be understanding in multiple cases, but Threat either broke the rules or didn't want to follow them and tapped her. In my mind Crybaby and Threat would have grown into lovers if Threat was just a little more careful with their spooky shit(which I think is nicely shown by the ring scene, they're comfortable with each other and intimate, but there's that tense horror beneath the surface).
For Threat... I think they love Crybaby. Genuinely I think they love her, they just don't know how to love someone properly. That's why they work so hard to keep her around, to keep her placid and tapped. Threat could eat Crybaby at any point and they would rather keep her around, and stay close to her. I think Threat is in love and doesn't know how to handle it so they keep trying to start over and get it right.
2. Did they scare Crybaby on purpose, for the paranoia and emotional terror?
Nope! Crybaby caught Threat organically, and then Threat started running damage control. Threat plays pretty fast and loose with what they are, and they got a little too comfortable with Crybaby's routine. That said, I do think Threat sort of... enjoyed Crybaby's fear. I think Threat limits their scares to a quick "boo" or just being quiet around the house. The sort of "Oh I didn't see you there" scare that normal people engage in. They didn't show their fae form or do any of the big scares on purpose(Crybaby was not supposed to wake up and see them messing with her tethers...)
3. Was Threat limited just to this piece or will there be more?
I have more planned for Threat! I have had to put them on the back burner because writing for them is a LOT, but I do have more stories planned for them. They were originally conceptualized as Soap's darling, so I want to write a few pieces with the two of them interacting more. I also just really enjoy their interactions with Crybaby so I want to do more of those too. I just haven't had any ideas pan out so they're cooking in the kiln rn, but they'll be back <3
4. I also love Crybaby's vague awareness that shit is happening. I think it adds a lot to her character that she ISN'T clueless, but can't do anything to save herself. And I think it's closer to what most people would do in a horror movie than we'd all like to believe. Sure you can notice the tropes, and feel on edge, but at the end of the day you don't know whether there's actually a killer or if you've just concocted one in your mind because you've watched too many movies.
Lots of love to you too!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the fic, thank you for sharing your thoughts with me and letting me answer your questions!!
#ghoul speaks#x oc#oc: Threat#oc: Crybaby#I love these two#they're so bad for each other and yet they're so good for each other
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MERA MERA MERA!!!! I READ YOUR LAST IDOL DARLING WITH YAN AZUL POST AND THEN WENT TO WATCH HOSHI NO KO BUT THEN!!!! SPOILER ALERT FOR HOSHI NO KO!!!
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I FOUND OUT THAT AZUL'S VA (Atsushi Tamaru-san) IS ALSO THE VA FOR AI'S STALKER AND I AM JUST-- Oh god I can't-- His voice when he stabbed Ai-- just the fury- the betrayal-- the fear??? I can't get the image of Azul out of my head screaming at Darling for breaking his trust as a fan, the disbelief when Darling actually remembers him, the horror and sinking dread for what he'd done to Darling???
I think Azul wouldn't probably go as far as murdering Darling, but we also know he has the capability to become really violent and irrational when he gets so emotional and probably gonna do something he regrets. This was just a thought that got me screaming in my room lol, i think i need to lay down--
(Please don't mind me, Ai's death got me crying really hard and now I'm just replaying the scene over and over again to listen to Tamaru-san's voice acting sjsdkdkksk)
OMG??? OMGGGG??????????? I REWATCHED THAT SCENE AND AAAAAAA I COULD HEAR AZUL IN THE PARTS WHERE THE STALKER’S VOICE BREAKS AND HE GRADUALLY BECOMES MORE HYSTERICAL OMG………….. after all, it’s expected to be such a good voice when it comes from Tamaru-san!!! He certainly knows how to voice the most heart-wrenching scenes and emotional breakdowns with such a strong, passionate voice!!! The power in the voice is so haunting… all of that strong emotion mixed with the hatred and betrayal!! It was really a terribly shocking and sad scene, but I can’t get over the voice now that I know whose it is!! Tamaru-san is so talented!!!!! >0<
Omg oh!! But now I’m also screaming in my room! The thought of Azul doing such a thing to darling because he isn’t thinking straight and he’s so overcome with all-consuming emotions!!!! He can be very irrational when he’s caught up in his emotions; this is true as seen in his Overblot scene! Uuuwwaaa he would be such a dangerous stalker fan to have if he takes it that far… >_< it’s possible he may not resort to something so drastic as murder, but then knowing how angry and violent he can get during his breakdowns… omg scary!!!! Stay away from idol darling, Azul!!!!
He can be so terrifying in that state, so it’s likely he might do something he’ll come to later regret. Or maybe he still manages to calculate just a little and hopefully if he does hurt darling he missed a vital area. Either way, he’s too dangerously obsessed… ;;;;
(The scene really hits so much harder when you don’t know what’s coming. I had no idea the story would take such a dark turn because the way in which they advertised the anime made it seem like it would be about Ai learning to love herself and her children as they grow up with her and maybe even become idols alongside her. I was wrong when I got to that scene in the manga and then saw it in the anime. T^T)
#twisted chit chat#heyyy11#your message is such good timing because ‘idol’ has been stuck in my head ever since it was released
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Destined with You : Episode 10
that transition from past to present made me suddenly remember that Rowoon is gorgeous!
my man’s never changing her contact name from civil servant haunted house 💀
Jo Bo-ah’s eyes 😭😭😭 !!! I feel every emotion!
she’s so happy to see him ^•^
from the day this show premiered all of us knew they were going to fall for each other spell or not and yet here I am, grinning like a dumbass happy to hear it [except break up with that girl Sin-yu ENOUGH, let me enjoy this blossoming relationship minus the grey area]
that child 💀
wait for me is such a realistic thing to say except it never seems to work itself out in kdrama land 😭😭😭
as of now I guess let me just officially look away from their grey area situation so I can selfishly enjoy
look at her fingers !!!! look at how happy she is !!! her turning back every 3 seconds 🤣
break up with #that girl already! minus whatever she’s got going on with her other man, and whatever horrible thing she’s planning for my sister ; you have never looked at her with love in your eyes !!!!
lmao her side (piece man?) wore glasses and I didn’t recognise him for a second and thought she was meeting someone new 💀
lmao girl you can’t just walk away from a breakup??? stand up ???
well she just sat down…
despite everything I still have like zero empathy for her
lmao now the second male lead is here 😭 I got the flower bouquet peaceful moment for 4 seconds….
please let this be a dream sequence
oh thank god 💀🙏
everything about the office scene was awkward but the lift moment was surprisingly sweet (it was like 30 seconds of them being in proximity, my brain just accepts anything 😭)
this mother and younger coworker storyline and the two bosses coworker romance storyline are things that I support (why not!) but confuse me like sister the main plot has not started unfolding yet, can you take this stuff elsewhere 😭🙏
lmao she always has more heat for hongjo than sinyu like sister get your priorities straight 😭
naur he spat his wine 😂
wait he changed her name on his phone!!!
lmao babe you’re about to be surprised
that is an insane amount of beer bottles for one table 😭
the gloves
talk your shit sister! 💅
of course it was the second male lead lmao. just got pepper sprayed 💀
lmao second leads can never waste a single second like if you rejected the girl once, it’s over for you 😂😭 imagine your competition being someone who was engaged like he obviously didn’t think that man was going to win over him
Jang Sinyu get a grip for real bestie! she’s in an emotional and moral pickle because of you!!! 😍 she liked the other guy first and now has to wait for you but also feel all of these feelings lmao like let her chill.
my sister got into this weird love quadrangle spiritual past life mess before she could get one simple boyfriend
lmao this ‘pure’ talk might be their banter or whatever but it is totally not my vibe 💀
okay secretary Kim chair thing
and this is why you do not kiss around in your workplace
the way I do not know these office characters enough to root for them
you cannot feel any empathy for Nayeon like deadass bullied my sister into dropping out of school and now she’s scheming with someone terrifyingly creepy 😭🙏 STAAPPPP IT
not only is she conspiring to do voodoo on my sister, she’s getting her transferred as well…
get him Mr Kwon !!!
sister put up a little fight?
would it kill him to be a little honest with the one he claims to love 😍
THE HAND !!!!!
I ruined my life watching a show I cannot binge omg 😭. tell me now !!! lmao @the shot of Mr. Kwon clinging to the wall
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#i should post the pregnant cat side fic on ao3...that was a really tender side story
I’m currently Jennifer Lawrence asking what do you mean? What 😭 do you 😭 mean? But without the pressure. I, too, have been frustrated by my lack of writing. If you ever feel like sharing even a scrap of that little side story, even just sharing bullet points, I would eat that shit up. But no pressure!! I’m even thankful you even posted the original story. I am also clearly, not afraid to shoot my shot lol
no omg please. i love to talk about my fic and your photoset is like the nicest thing anyone's done for my fics unprompted. it makes me so happy...thank YOU!
i had to go 21 pages back in my #unfortunate birdcage fanfictions tag to find the fic. i am always so happy to share it because i love it as a little scene, and then am always so distressed none of my metadata and cataloging classes in library school actually changed any of my social media behaviors so my blog is and will always be an absolute nightmare to navigate. lol anyway!!: god is a small pregnant cat in the sun // “and we’re all too small to talk to god” // jamie meets a cat
rest under a cut bc i suffer from fatal can't shut up when someone shows one iota of interest in my fic disease...
i was eating yogurt tonight and pondering this au after your ask!! and as with everything i write for hrpf, it's always in a constant state of evolution, when players come and go or i rewatch miyazaki films or w/e. but here are some thoughts i had, unrelated to jamie and jared:
tomáš is a grizzled fisherman with a kind heart, who spends most of his time fishing alone
future captain matty sells tuna's fish at the fish market but he sucks at it bc he's too nice to old grandmas who want nice fish but pretend they don't have enough money to buy it (they do, he's just a dummy). tuna has to hire a second person to help, but unfortunately that person is will borgen
obviously will and captain matty are harboring enormous crushes on tuna and deal with it by acting out (juggling fish across the booth to make him shout at them)
in the past i have said joey daccord is a gardener for chris and philipp and this still true, however sometimes i think he helps out with the early morning shift at the mccann bakery and will load like bread and cookies into his truck and take them down to the fish market so that....
eeli can sell them at his jam stand. eeli's jam makes you feel one of two emotions: unbridled euphoria or catastrophic depression. you never know what is going to happen. two jars of the same strawberry jam can alter the trajectory of your life in two different ways. and much like pregnancy, once you eat it and have a horrible time, it releases endorphins and then you're like actually that wasn't so bad, and you go back to his jam and mccann bakery bread stand and he looks at you beatifically and says, oh you liked it? :)
And then of course for Jared and Jamie:
most critically the one single time jared makes it out to the lighthouse (VERY sneakily bc like...that's a worksite lol harbormaster grubauer is kind but not soft) to Spend The Night, they obviously have very dreamy tender night time sex but ALSO the ghosts are quiet and jamie sleeps through the night without waking ONCE because that's true love babey!! jared ofc does not sleep at all because foghorns are loud lol
i outlined a longform version of this fic uhhh in dms with @bakingblues once i think, where jamie is veteran of (unspecified) armed conflict and he is running from what he did (also unspecifed) and he like is like i must punish myself and live alone to atone for my sins (unspecified but knowing me it's probably like...the Inherent Cruelty of War and not like anything that would get him tried in the hague) which is why he takes a lighthouse job. and in the whole fic it's totally unclear if he is being haunted by ghosts (real) or ghosts (ptsd). and ofc jared's gentle and constant love for him does not like Heal him but as with all love it makes the ghosts easier to bear
lorna prompted me a million years ago with jamie + jared + seashells i think? or oyster shells? and i never finished the fic bc i'm the worst but here's how it goes: one time after a storm the island is COVERED in oyster shells, like hundreds, maybe thousands, of them, and it was a bad bad bad storm and the ghosts were so loud and jamie didn't sleep at all and he's so tired and so lonely, but he's not scheduled to leave the lighthouse that week. so instead of doing his work, jamie spends the day picking up dozens and dozens of the most intact oyster shells. and he very patiently figures out how to drill holes in them and string them together with fishing line and it takes him all day but by the time it's time to turn on the lighthouse light, he has made a big intricate windchime for jared and his cousins. and when he finally makes it off the island three weeks later, he gives it to jared and his cousins. they all are soooo charmed and the girls hang it outside the door of their bakery immediately even though that is so excruciatingly embarrassing for jamie. however jared gives him the kind of hug that makes you fall in love with a guy and jamie, well, he's got a soft heart.
thank you for sending this ask!!!!
#i'm having a week that defies human comprehension so i made a small impulse purchase of 3 of that fancy yogurt that comes in clay pot#la fremière???? at the normie grocery store#HELLOOOO that yogurt turned my entire day around#i'm so glad i bought more than one lol but i'm trying to savor it#but it's so like. wow so there is a world beyond chobani...amazing...#anyway i just think. obviously this entire au is miyazaki coded so no brands but maybe eeli secretly sells idk. cream in clay pots#and the clay pot cream is an aphrodiastic#i'll say no more#unfortunate birdcage fanfictions#no but fr thank you so much for asking i appreciate it so much!!!#oh my god i just realized this au DID have an aesthetic tag#lighthouse tag#you know how tumblr used to save tags...i miss her
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Screaming into the void isn’t enough, I need to write something. This idea of had been floating around my head for the longest time.
I can not articulate how much I want a post-eclipse au where Griffith can not conceptualize a life without Guts. After having read this chapter, I have been haunted— HAUNTED, and I haven’t even caught up. I’m just thinking about the possibilities. From a writing stand point, I want to straight up just outline a fic where Griffith breaks Guts, not in any cliche or outlandish way but I want something so specifically catered to me.
This whole scene has my on my knees. I can’t no emphasis how much excitement I feel for this concept alone. I need this so badly, I’m on the floor gagging and crying over Griffith’s line.
From this line alone— ALONE. His beating heart after he sees Guts, when he’s flying in Zodd and he thinks it must be because of the flesh he comes from. I am throwing up, screaming on the top of my lungs.
Do you know now many ideas flashed through my mind when I read this? In actuality none because it’s so brilliant by itself I can’t possibly add anything meaning full than horny gay angst, but l, god, did I try. The best I could come up with was a single line from Griffith talking to Guts, in whatever sort of scenario where Guts would actually listen to him:
I have outlined something almost coherent, something I so desperately want from these two, which can be easily summed up the example of Naraku and Kikyo.
I want that but also it be deeply tragic more so than canon. Guts and Griffith having a romantic relationship beforehand, Guts leaving not because he wasn’t seen as an equal but because Griffith’s dream is his first love and his ambition being reflected into Charlotte. He’s watching Griffith court his dream with nonsensical poems, mannerisms high society deems chivalrous but seems pointless and stupid to him, he sees Griffith ascending up, sees him as King already and he doesn’t see himself following suit. He only sees himself as an embarrassment acting all noble. He can’t fake emotions like Griffith. A nobles life ain’t for him but that’s just one of reason, the main one being he can’t stand to see Griffith with the princess and he knows when it comes down to it he’ll hold Griffith back and hearing Griffith’s monologue about a true friend just makes his decision to leave all the more easy.
I need their pre eclipse budding romance to make things messy post eclipse.
Guts still falls in love with Casca things proceed as usual but now it’s layered with the betrayal of a lover more so on Griffith’s end than on Guts. Griffith can’t stop thinking about the moments they shared…
In short, I want Griffith to forcefully turn Guts into an Apostle.
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