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luxurychristmaspudding · 1 day

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Weightless | On Call

summary: your curtains are closed, truck silent on the drive. today of all days, you shouldn't be alone.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. loooots of angst. active grieving for a dead parent. a very soft frankie. vibes are better in the next chapter lmao.

wc: 2.1k

an: my grandad was a man who loved flowers. today marks seven years since we lost him. he was gentle and kind and so talented.

have some forget me nots, which are in my garden and now also in your hands. for @morallyinept's flora and fauna challenge. for anyone you may also miss <3

When the time came Just like you are He was weightless In my arms

- weightless, elbow

series masterlist | main masterlist

Your house is quiet.

Quiet like Frankie has never heard.

There’s always some kind of noise. A record turning, the hum of your voice. The TV on, windows open to birdsong. But today, there is nothing.

His legs are heavy. Heart heavy, fingers shaking, wrapped around the bag of groceries he’s brought. He’s taken two steps in through your front door, and now he doesn’t know what to do.

He watches the dust motes swim in the sun of your hallway. Shifts on his feet to look through into the living room. You must be upstairs, but to call your name in the silence of the morning feels like too much. Invasive. Cruel.

Instead, he swallows and takes the remaining strides into your kitchen. Breathes in the fresh smell of your plants, the familiarity of your spice rack in the corner, the spread of miscellaneous stuff that he’s rarely seen tidied away. He gently places the bag of groceries on the counter before opening your cupboards for a vase.

Once he finds one, he fills it with water and trims the stems. Forget-me-nots and white carnations. Something simple. Remembrance and love. Bright and pretty. No lilies. They only remind you of the funeral.

He’s biding his time. Trying to tamp down the nerves swirling in his gut, the somersault of his heart in his chest. He knows from the gaps left in his own life that today will be hard. And he wants to make it easier for you. He just hasn't worked out how.

He knows what works for him. The long hikes, the pull of a bottle. In murkier times, many years ago now, the sharp taste of powdered gums. Knows what works for the boys. The days with drawn curtains, video games played in the gloom. Tequila and memories shared across barbeques. Even his parents - honorary pastel de choclo, flicking through photo albums. But for you, he’s not sure.

Once he’s happy with the way the flowers are arranged, he takes off his shoes. He leaves his cap on the counter, and pads up the stairs.

It’s still quiet. You’re not in the bathroom. No reason for you to be in any other of the rooms. He holds his breath and raises his knuckles against the wood of your bedroom door.

He knocks, softly - once. Waits for an answer that doesn’t come, but pushes it open anyway.

‘Bug?’ He says gently into the morning sunlight.

You’re swaddled in bed, still in your pyjamas, eyes red and swollen. You sit up slightly with a watery smile as he edges in, managing a crackled hey, Fish.

A sharp lump rises in Frankie’s throat. Something about seeing you upset has always hurt; the same kind of ache he gets in his chest when Lucia or his mum cries. His eyes flick from yours to your bedside table, to the picture of your father settled on top of it. Frozen in time, his smile is wide - just like yours. Greying hair, a little more chin fat than he would have had as a younger man. A younger you tucked into his side, his arm slung over your shoulders. Your arms around his middle, squeezing, laughing. Fuck.

Frankie’s heart shoots out the bottom of his legs and skids across the floor. He looks you over, and your chin wobbles. Too much. Too vulnerable. The smile drops, your face cracks. Your mouth clamps shut with a snap of teeth, and a fresh wave of tears begins to pour down your cheeks.

Frankie feels his own expression crumble, and he’s at your side before he can even think for his feet to take him there. Perched on your mattress, arms around your shoulders to pull you close. Shushing like the gentle in and out of waves, lips pressed to your hot forehead.

You’re tense, so tense. Breath coming in choked hiccups, shoulders up to your ears. Hands gripping the sheets. There’s another pull in Frankie’s chest.

‘Stop trying not to cry,’ he murmurs, ‘I can feel it.’

You release a ragged breath, a heartbroken cry as you cling to his sleeves. Like you're being ripped apart. Like you're being drowned.

‘I’m sorry,’ you gasp, ‘I’m sorry.’

Frankie shifts you further across the bed so he can fit next to you, shaking his head.

‘Don’t be sorry. Why should you be sorry?’

‘You don’t have to be here,’ you choke, ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to stay.’

Frankie closes his eyes. Leaving you here is the furthest thing from his mind, a notion that wouldn’t even cross it.

‘I want to.’ He says.

You nod, curled tight to him. He can feel dampness seeping through his hoodie, and he sits back against the headboard, cradling you to his chest. His heart is beating so fast. You can hear it, the conch of your ear pressed to the cage of his ribs. You try to focus on it, try to think of nothing else. Try not to think of this day four years ago. The weightless feel of your father in your arms in the last minutes of his life. How you held him when he could hold you no longer.

‘What do you need, baby?’ Frankie asks.

The streams of tears, the bow of your brow, serve to split his heart in two.

‘I don’t know.’ You whisper.

So Frankie holds you closer, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Unwittingly, he’s answered the question for you. For the last four years, you have needed to be held like this. Needed to be held together by someone who is not yourself, someone who can shoulder the weight of the grief you have carried alone for years, just for a moment.

You lose yourself to it. To the warmth, the smell, the comfort. You let the flood come, you let Frankie rock you. You ask him how Luc is, and he understands the need to hear about life outside this room. So he tells you about her arts and crafts, her newfound dislike of mac and cheese, what she wants for her birthday. The daisy chains she's been making, the sweetpeas they're growing in their garden. And it’s wonderful. It reminds you of the good of the world, that it keeps spinning, that there is love out there even when it feels lost to you.

If there is something out there other than life, you hope your dad is in it. On a deck chair with a beer on the beach, a little basket of fries delivered to him every so often. He’s smiling, laughing. You hope he’s still around, because the idea that he’s not is too big, too great to face. It’s too lonely. Too terrifying to be alone in this world, no anchor, no tether, a family with their backs to you after you’d told them who you loved, too far in the distance to turn back to you with outstretched palms. An ex-fiancee who simply didn’t love you enough.

But he’s here, you feel. Here in this moment, watching from somewhere above. Mixed with the fabric of now like clothes in a washing machine. A spiral of colour and feeling. Pink, purple, blue, green. Love, joy, heartbreak, loss.

Orange. Orange and white is what Frankie can see. The warmth of the sunlight, the pale of your sheets. You’re far away but safe in his arms. He wants you there always. Wants to be wherever you need him.

He thinks of this day in his own life, four years ago. The tiny, warm body of his baby in his arms. Weightless as you are now and yet so heavy, the two of them fighting sleep in a nursery elsewhere in Florida. He can still smell her hair, still hear the way she’d babble, the way she still fit tucked into one arm. He swallows, hard. Holds you tighter still, thumbs rubbing your shoulder, your side. There is so much of his daughter’s life to see. He can’t imagine having it cut short. Can’t imagine knowing it would end soon, counting down the days as his body wasted. The milestones he’d miss, the moments and memories. The stories and people she’d introduce him to. It doesn’t bear thinking about, her out in the wide world without him to guide or protect her. And he knows you’d hate it, but he’s sorry. So sorry that that’s the life you have, that you don’t have him to turn to anymore. And he’s sorry for your dad. For him to have missed who you are now, to miss who you will be.

He presses another kiss to your head, hoping to convey this. This nebulous thought, this strange feeling.

‘He wrote letters for me,’ you whisper into his neck. So quietly, voice strained to breaking as you force the words out. ‘For birthdays. For jobs. For my first home. For my wedding. For a first child.’ You try to smile, but it’s flattened with a broken breath. ‘He thought of everything. And I read them again today - the ones I’m up to - but it’s like - it’s like his voice -’ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your hands as you try to calm down. ‘Sometimes it’s like I can’t hear him properly anymore.’

Frankie strokes the back of your hand, and it drops easily. He holds it in clammy palms.

In the cold days after your dad passed, through numb dissonance you had googled everything to do with grief. The stages, the remedies, the processes. What you forget first.

Voice. There would be a day, before anything else, when you wouldn’t be able to remember how your name sounded spoken by his lips. When you couldn’t remember the texture of I love you spoken in his tongue.

Frankie knows this. He googled it after Colombia, when the weight of every body he’d seen or carried seemed to settle on him. It had comforted him. He didn’t want to remember shouts and screams, couldn’t stomach the memory of Tom’s orders rattling through his brain. But he feels so desperate to take this from you, to retract and hide what you know. So useless in the face of so much hurt, so much loss. Even when he knows the best he can do is sit here in it with you.

You press your free fingertips into your eyes.

‘I’m so scared, Frankie,’ you whisper from behind the dark in your head. ‘I’m so scared I might forget him.’

Frankie’s seen the simplicities of grief before. Knows them intimately. Knows the horror of these realisations, understands as he presses his lips to your hairline and you shake in his arms. He loves you too much to lie.

So instead, he tells you a truth.

‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’

When the light turns from golden to white, the sun a little higher in the sky, you disentangle yourself to blow your nose. You manage a laugh as you do it, muttering a bashful ew as Frankie watches you, still stretched out on your mattress. Any other time, and your heart would be hammering in your chest at the sight. But now, it’s all the comfort you need.

He stands, stiff, stretching his arms to the ceiling before gathering you briefly in his arms again.

‘You okay?’ He asks.

‘Better.’ You say, brushing a curl from his forehead.

His eyes are so warm, so gentle.

‘Breakfast?’

You hum, offer him the best smile you can. A sludge of guilt slops in your stomach, but you try to swallow it.

‘Thank you. I’ll be down in a bit.’

When he’s downstairs, listening to the sound of your shower, he unpacks his grocery bag and begins making a stack of pancakes. Blueberry, banana, strawberry, chocolate chip. Syrup enough for you to taste through the salt at the back of your throat. Methodical, mechanical, more focused on listening for your movements through the floors of your house. The shutting off of the water, the soft thunk of your drawers. Your footsteps heavy on the stairs, down the hall. You appear in the doorway, hair washed, eyes red, cosy in sweats and a t-shirt. He smiles at you, and you smile back. It’s small, but it’s a start.

You move closer, and he takes you under his arm as he turns the stove off. You wrap your arms around his middle.

‘Thank you for the flowers,’ you say, quietly. Frankie follows your eyes to the bouquet arranged in the vase. Forget-me-nots, white carnations. ‘Thank you for not getting lilies.’

He smiles, kisses your forehead. Wonders whether he could leave a mark simply from doing it so often, so you’d always feel safe.

‘No problem.’

He guides you towards the table, pulls out the chair and makes sure you’re settled. Makes sure you have your coffee, your pancakes. The smell of the flowers is sweet, something blooming in your stomach. you trace the outline of them before you, the simplicity, the thought. Frankie asks what you want to do for the rest of the day. You deflect the question back at him, and he smiles.

‘Anything.’

‘Anything?’

You raise an eyebrow at his mhm.

‘That’s dangerous.’ You say with a wry smile.

Something in Frankie’s chest lifts. There she is.

Later, when Luc is tucked into your side and you’re tucked into Frankie’s, you’ll wonder how you can ever repay him. The kindness he shows you, the patience.

You only hope that you will, someday. Promise it, head leant against his shoulder.

Even if it takes the rest of your life.

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #jettsflora&faunachallenge #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: on call

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misseviehyde · 12 hours

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CONFISCATED - Part 1

"AGGGGHHHHHH! I FUCKING HATE YOU, I WISH YOU'D DIE!"

Lawrence winced as the screams of his hysterical teenage daughter rang in his ears and she slammed the door to her bedroom so hard, the house shook and plaster fell down.

Bella was volatile at the best of times, but by confiscating her phone - the most important thing in her life, her Father had really just set her off.

He could hear sobbing and crashing in her room and knew she was trashing it. He knew from experience that Bella would try anything to get her phone back... threatening him, threatening to hurt herself... begging, screaming, pleading, lying... it was kind of sad. She might even try to contact her Mom, but even though he and Beth had separated, they still parented together and it would do little good.

'Since when did teenagers get so addicted to social media?' he thought. He'd noticed his daughters addiction to her phone had been getting worse and then when another parent had contacted him to say Bella was bullying her daughter he had decided to act.

He'd been pretty disappointed to see the mean messages calling the other girl a fat loser. He knew Bella was a popular girl and obsessed with her looks, but he hadn't realised she was so mean. It seemed everyone was afraid of Bella and she liked it.

Lawrence had decided that he needed to get his daughter back on track. She would be moving out soon and he didn't want his legacy to be a spoiled toxic bitch who thought she could treat other people like dirt. Bella seemed to think the only thing that mattered in life was money and status.

"I better go through here and see what else she's been up to..." he mused.

Scrolling through the phone, Lawrence was a little embarrassed to see the clothes and outfits his daughter had bookmarked as things to buy. They were all skimpy and expensive... he wasn't sure he approved. There were also pictures of boys in her phone and he didn't want to think about his horny daughters crushes on other men.

As he scrolled through, his eye was suddenly caught by an app he had never heard of. Brat App.

Opening the app, Lawrence saw it was some sort of social media app. It seemed you scored points for posting selfies and completing tasks and then you could spend those points buying outfits and upgrades.

Bella had obviously been playing it a lot. She had accumulated a lot of points. Perhaps she'd been saving up?

Intrigued Lawrence opened the avatar menu.

CREATE NEW AVATAR?

He clicked the button and a 3D doll appeared. It was female - you could only have a female representation it seemed. The name Loren had been randomly generated. He went with it.

Clicking on the doll, Lawrence saw you could spend points to buy different features. He began to play.

Hair: blonde. Body-type: Princess. Makeup: Pink

Each selection changed the avatar making it more attractive and feminine looking. Lawrence found it strangely addictive. Strangely pleasing to shape and mould the avatar, to watch it getting prettier and prettier.

Make her bitchy. Make her mean.

He wasn't sure where the intrusive thought came from but it felt good. Yes... why not make the avatar look hot and mean. A bully... even worse than his daughter.

Yessss. Make her super popular... make her an IT girl.

He selected the toxic femininity personality trait and pushed the natural leader button. Loren was going to be an Alpha girl.

More... make her meaner. Make her a total nightmare. Make her completely evil.

The intrusive thoughts felt really good and Lawrence saw that there were other options besides physical. He began to play with those. He cranked the popularity slider to maximum. He selected Head Cheerleader. He selected the slider for wealth and pushed it as high as it would go.

Make sure she knows how to fuck. She has to be the best at everything. Make her a fucking dirty slut...

Lawrence didn't feel embarassed as he entered the sexuality tab. It seemed so natural now to adjust Loren and make her nastier.

Sexual Orientation: Likes boys but will make out with girls. Sexually confident - switch. Likes to be fucked by Alpha's, but peg and dominate beta boys.

He noticed he'd nearly spent all of his daughters points. She'd really been saving, but he'd had enough points that he could pretty much max out all of Loren's stats.

The avatar was now of a mean, bullying, rich brat. She was the Head Cheerleader and a completely cruel delinquent who got whatever she wanted. She oozed toxic femininity, was an avatar of lust and desire and clearly had no morals. Loren was the most evil bitch it was possible to be.

COMPLETE AVATAR AND TRANSFORM?

Lawrence stared at the big button flashing at the bottom of the app. What did that mean? His thumb hesitated over it. Something wasn't right here.

Push it loser. Push it and see.

Lawrence felt like something was influencing him. Something external... yet also something within himself. Something hungry and dark and desperate to be free. Something that had seen its chance and was going to take it.

He pushed the button...

Lawrence screamed in pleasure as pink lightning blasted out of the phone and engulfed him. Bones cracked and skin tightened as with a howl of orgasmic pleasure he began to transform.

Long blonde hair cascaded from his scalp and makeup simmered across his features as his drab clothing became hot and sexy. Breasts grew and his dick shrunk away and his ass inflated out.

Loren was becoming a reality.

Pussy lips opened as body hair receded and a hot blonde teenage slut rolled her pretty eyes in ecstasy. Nails shot out, thick makeup covered her face and the new bitch giggled in glee. This felt amazing.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk yesssss," she hissed as her transformation completed.

Loren blinked. She looked down at the phone in her hand. What... a.... rush.

She smirked and standing up walked to the mirror to admire her perfect body.

She was eighteen... she was popular and she was horny.

This was going to be a lot of fun...

The end?

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #bully

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asoftgoth · 1 day

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To ask my dream future self in case I ever escape the closet, how is weight stuff on HRT?

So much I try to read online is full of fatphobes drowning it in desperate weight loss / maintenance talk for such different body types. Would love to hear from a calmer voice what eating on E as a bigger girl is like, if it's actually that much easier to gain, whatever you've been noticing/feeling

I wanted to know this too before I started and there really isn’t a good resource at all for this kind of info, especially for truly obese people like me. From talking with other big trans girls like myself, I can honestly say is that a lot of it will depend on your genetics. I know that’s not what people like to hear, and it’s scary. A lot of transitioning seems like it’s kind of a dice roll. What I will say, though, is that if you look at your mother, if she’s a bigger woman, you will probably end up with a build similar to hers. For me, that was definitely the case. For example, when it comes to boob size people say that you take your mother’s cup size and go down a size, and that that’s what you’ll probably get.

As for my transition, when I actually started on estrogen, I lost quite a bit of weight. Although most of it was almost entirely muscle mass. I did some measurements throughout the process and so far I have lost about 25ish pounds overall but I’ve gained about 4.5 inches on my hips and lost about 4inches on my waist. I initially lost probably 40 pounds, but I’ve gained back another 10-15. So there was that aspect. I think what I’ve gained back has been fat. And definitely I’ve lost a ton of muscle. If you have a big upper body, don’t be super scared because most of the muscle that I lost was actually from my upper body. Like shoulders, upper tummy, that kind of stuff. I actually don’t think it’s much easier to gain weight on estrogen. Or at least it isn’t for me. Some people have said that it is but of all the trans woman that I know that are also feedists it doesn’t seem like it’s some super easy thing to gain weight on estrogen. It’s why I really really really hate the term “biological males”, because our bodies act like cis women’s bodies do in practically every way.

Lastly, I’ll talk about medication’s. I didn’t see a ton of fat transfer while I was on estrogen. I saw some for sure, but it hasn’t been anything compared to what I’ve seen since being on progesterone. I’ve been on estrogen now for a year and 3 months. I’ve been on prog for about 3 and a half months of that, and I’ve seen more fat transfer while on progesterone then on only estrogen (and an anti-androgen which I still take too). What sucks the most I think about transitioning, is how long things take. Your body is going through a lot, and it’s really important for you to take care of it and help it along through this process. It’s why I haven’t really been actively gaining, and I’ve just been trying to make sure I’m eating decent enough food and drinking lots of water and getting the exercise that I need. I think that’s really the most important thing with all of this. Eventually, I probably will try gaining weight intentionally again, but I’m just kind of letting my body do its thing. It’s going through enough changes on its own.

I hope this helps!!

#questions

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lucyfrostblade · 2 days

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Hi! Just saw your reblog and I'm so interested in your thoughts on Fig and Kipperlilly being similar, and was wondering if you'd share?

Yes! i am always down to talk about my two favorite fantasy high characters but before we get into it, some assumptions I have made about FHJY that aren't explicit in the text but I won't necessarily be justifying here:

(under the cut)

Kipperlilly was in some form or another manipulated by porter

Kipperlilly truly cared about Lucy, and to a lesser extent the rest of her party

The biggest and most obvious similarity between the two is the anger they feel. When we first see Fig she's a deeply angry kid. She hates her mom for hiding the truth of her parentage and for wrecking their family the way she did. And while she forgives Gilear much faster than Sandra Lynn, she also starts off incredibly angry at him.

Her anger is very justified, and it's centered around the ways the adults in her life mistreated her. Sandra Lynn by hiding the fundamental truth of who she is from her for so long, and Gilear by, before the start of the series, saying that she isn't a Faeth anymore.

Our introduction to Fig is her taking that anger out on both Sandra Lynn and Gilear, and she does almost immediately see the error of her treating at least Gilear the way she does.

Brennan: You see a little tear forms in his eye and you see he says, Gilear: I know that I said some hurtful things when I first found out. Fig: Yeah, you said, “You're no longer a Faeth,” and guess what, I'm not. I'm just Fig now. Gilear: Fig, I'm sitting here with beans on my shirt. Fig: I know, I saw you ate one on the ride here. Gilear: I was hungry, all right? I've put on some weight. You ever heard of a fat elf? You ever heard of it? I've never seen a fat elf in my life and I'm here with a bad comb over and beans on my shirt. Fig: Okay, fine. Gilear: And I'm reaching out to you. Fig: I'm sorry, Gilear, I'm sorry that I got angry at you. You're just some random man, I shouldn't be mean to you.

But for almost the entire season, Fig does not forgive Sandra Lynn. She's still so angry with her that she struggles to see Sandra Lynn as a complex person right up until episode 15 "Family Fires", is unsure as to whether or not Sandra Lynn is a good person worthy of saving:

Emily: Because I am undecided on my mom. Because at first, I felt like I, oh maybe she's a good person, but now I maybe feel like she's part of this ruby plot. Brennan: Go ahead and give me an insight check. Emily: (rolls) 14. (emotional acoustic guitar music) Brennan: (sighs) Your mom has never lived up to the standard you put on her of making your life good and perfect. She never was able to protect you from all harm and suffering in the world. And maybe that's not fair. And she's probably just a person, and those photos make it look like-- Emily: She's a complex person. She's allowed to be. Brennan: Yup.

So anger, and in particular the ways it can make someone lash out, is something that Fig is intimately aware of, something that she has had to fight to control herself. The difference is that the adults in her life helped her, they supported her. Gilear, Sandra Lynn, and Gorthalax all gave her the space she needed to be angry but also helped her move past that.

Kipperlilly didn't have that. To our knowledge she only had Jawbone, someone who only knew her through Aguefort and evidently did not know how to help her in the ways she needed.

There's also the matter of Porter who, in the third episode "After the Afterlife" singles Fig out when she audits barbarian class:

Porter: Let's see what everyone else in the class, [players laugh] what do other people, what do other people kind of think? Like young lady, what do you think about rage? Fig: What do I think about rage? Porter: What do you think about it? Fig: [sighs] Well, I kind of think it's inevitable, 'cause, I mean, like, people really let you down left and right. Porter: Yeah! Fig: So you're always gonna feel rage. It's just a matter of whether or not you use it productively or just whether or not you control it or it controls you. Brennan: A small tear forms in the corner of his eye. Porter: That's exactly right. That is exactly right. That is amazing.

He sees something in her. Porter sees the rage within her, and he encourages it. But more than that, Fig's perspective that "you control [rage] or it controls you" highlights another contrast between Fig and Kipperlilly. Fig learns to control her rage, while Kipperlilly literally gives control up to the shatterstar. But they still have that same rage, just on the opposite ends of expressing it.

We also know that Fig cares deeply about her friends, and that prior to the start of the series, her former friends abandoned her when she started to grow horns. She was alone when she came to Aguefort. She was isolated from her peers and from her family. She found the Bad Kids, and she is utterly devoted to her friends. She'll do anything for them.

But Kipperlilly? Brennan said in an interview with Caitlin Tyrrell that the Rat Grinders didn't know each other before forming the party. We don't know how the party formed really, but we know that she picked out the name the High 5 Heroes.

I think the High-Five Heroes part of it is sweet, but there's actually something even a little bit sinister to it to me, of being like, "We're the High-Five Heroes." And you're like, "You've pitched a name; we all just met. We don't have anything going yet." ( source )

He calls it sinister that she insisted on the name, but I can't see it as anything other than said. It speaks to me of a kid so desperate for friendship that she's willing to force inside jokes for just a hint of that. She doesn't want to be alone, and Fig might've put up a better act, but she didn't want to be alone at the start of Freshman Year either.

The difference is who they found. Fig got the Bad Kids, people who love and care about her. She had support from her friends and from her family. Kipperlilly was emotionally in a very similar state as Fig but with none of that support, and even had people who either couldn't support her (Jawbone) or wanted to encourage this isolation and rage (Porter).

Kipperlilly is Fig if the first day of school went different, if she ended up with people who didn't understand her like the Bad Kids did and if she couldn't get the support she needed from the adults in her life.

#kipperlilly copperkettle #figueroth faeth #fig faeth #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #does this make any sense #it's very clear in my head but i worry i rambled #or drew conclusions from no where

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sapphicthunderhead · 1 day

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TMagP 18 Spoilers: Oh my heart. I didn’t expect to be saying “poor Gwen!” this week but… poor Gwen. And Alice is in a bad place too, although Sam doesn’t seem to see the full extent of it yet. As for Celia… damn. All these people’s situations seem to be at least on the precipice of becoming FUBAR.

But at least we got to hear from Georgie! Although, unfortunately, it seems this version of her may be a tad bit unhinged. I hope they don’t take this iteration of her character in the opposite extreme from the one we knew, turning her into a full-on paranoid conspiracy theorist instead of the fearless, goofy, kind, resourceful woman we all know and love. (Speaking of those who love Georgie, I miss Melanie!)

Most crucially from a plot perspective, we’ve just been hit with genuinely shocking information about the extent of the Fears’ power in this world, the ramifications of which I need more time to process. The concept of Fear holding on to a person’s consciousness/soul after death is absolutely horrifying. I was under the impression that certain entities (Vast, Buried, & Lonely in particular) had the ability to eternally preserve a life in order to perpetually torment a victim, because if said victim died of famine, thirst, exhaustion, etc., the entity could no longer feed on their terror.

If that’s not the case, then each fear can function like a victim’s personal, eternal Hell— except you don’t have to “sin,” to be “evil,” to be condemned to this miserable fate. One of the most terrifying aspects of the Magnus Archives, as in the stories of MR James from which Jonny drew inspiration, is that folks don’t have to do a moral wrong or violate a clear warning to incite their supernaturally induced suffering. There have certainly been some notable cases of people bringing shit down on their own heads, as in the case of the criminal who couldn’t just sit back and let Angela kill his adversary for him in Piecemeal (TMA) and the dastardly dickhead finance bro in Futures (TMagP). But these aren’t necessarily the norm.

Also: does the Lonely/Hunger or other entity involved holding on after its prey’s demise indicate that Terminus isn’t strong enough to pry the other Fears’ hands away from their victims in this Universe? Would that in turn imply that a Fearpocalypse in this Universe could be never-ending?

Thinking back, there is potentially some evidence from TMA that set this up, although at the time, I failed to register it. The avatars in general simply refuse to die, so that’s a possible corroborating piece of evidence. Also, a Desolation avatar assigned to keep Agnes fed turns his coworkers’ flesh and fat into candles infused with their Fear; the Fear remains until the candle burns out, and the people who provided the raw materials are definitely deceased.

This is a deeply unnerving turn of events. I feel for everyone in this episode— particularly the deceased, who is somehow still trapped in the Forsaken house they rebuilt inside their mind. RIP.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tma spoilers #alice dyer #celia ripley #samama khalid #gwendolyn bouchard #alice tmagp #tmagp celia #tmagp sam #tmagp gwen #tma entities #tma fears #tmagp theory #tmagp 18

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abitterberryblog · 16 hours

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TWOTM Emissa Corenius : An Over-Analyzation

Major The Will of the Many spoilers and random theories ahead !!

Okay, so when I first read The Will of the Many, I wasn’t reading properly, and I just kinda assumed that Emissa was just a kinda blandly written character in such a well-written world. That was, of course, until the whole twist thing. What I liked was that it wasn’t a complete 360, and that she didn’t end up as extremely bad, but flawed enough for me not to be annoyed with her existence, and for her to not seem like only a Mary Sue 'love interest' character.

The thing is, I don't think she is at all.

First of all, I’m starting this with an analyzation of her relationship with Vis, and her not-so-role as a ‘love interest’. Was it real? Was it fake? I think she eventually did grow to be fond over him after a while, but I’ve always known she was going to betray him somehow. Something about the vibes.

It all started with the glass of water at the infirmary. I know there’s a chance that maybe she’s just, idk, kind or whatever, but after the ending, I’m not so 100% sure.

Not only that, but Ulciscor constantly nagging about how suspicious he was of her. (Normally I'd pass it off as Ulciscor being obsessed and hyper-anxious about the mission thing, but this was Emissa, and that caught my interest.)

There’s a really fat chance that she was, somehow, working with Veridius. This does not mean that she’s evil or whatever, and I'm still trying to figure out of Veridius is good or not, but it does make her a lot more interesting and complex.

Towards the end of the Iudicium, Emissa uses Will. You can’t use Will during academy stuff without some sort of source, or somebody allowing to use it. It's simply not possible?? Veridius? He’s literally the Principalis of the academy, after all, and during the infirminary scene at the end of the book, its implied that the Principalis spoke with Emissa beforehand, when he says to Vis that ‘she’s distraught’ and tries convincing Vis to talk to her.

What I noticed in this book is that the author, James Islington, is very careful in what he keeps in the book. Details. Hints. No matter how small or useless they seem. There are MAJOR spoilers, but : Here's a funny example I found.

See? Everything is littered in little details to be explored upon later. Even something as simple as a background detail of Aequa flipping coins.

ALSO, and something that I don’t see talked about for some reason, is the fact that Emissa knows that Indol was planning to deflect from Military to Religion. Indol never told her this. He’s shocked that she knows. Guess who may know??? Veridius???? That's right!!!

The question is, why would Veridius tell Emissa this? No idea from me here. But something else during the Iudicium arc catches my attention, and it’s the fact that Veridius PRIVATELY tells everybody what prize they would get if they won the whole thing. As implied by Eidhin (after he cancels on the Iudicium thing for Vis’ sake), Veridius often tempts them with something they really, really badly want, and something that would drive them to want to win.

I’m surprised not many people talk about that scene where Emissa asks Vis for the Heart of Jovan in the Iudicium, so she could win. She’s upset by this, obviously, since she cries and stuff, but I notice that she says “I can’t let us get separated.”

When I first read, I assumed she was talking about Vis, but that wouldn’t make sense, since she basically stabbed him as he fell off a tower (?) like, five seconds later. And also, her and Vis being separated wouldn't be related to her winning the Iudicium, (unless she's in a scenario where she'll have to leave forever or something if she doesn't win, which isn't really likely), Which makes me wonder, who was she really talking about?

Hopefully, we’re find out in the next book. Someone she really cared about? Relative? Family member? Am I missing something? Will this be important?

After all, we don’t exactly 100% know why Veridius planted Vis near the Callidus-Eidhin punchy debacle. He obviously knew Vis would step in.

At first I wondered if he was trying to kick Vis out and expel him, which is probably more likely, but right now I’m running on four hours of sleep and I am high on theories.

I think I’ve read this theory somewhere on the Hierarchy subreddit, too, but what if Veridius planned this whole thing, not to expel Vis, but to plant Vis near the stables as his punishment, maybe for Emissa to keep an eye on him? Or woo him for secrets or whatever the fuck?

At the very least, whether Veridius did purposely plant Vis there for that sole reason, or as an afterthought after Vis worms himself out with the Threefold Apology, I do think that Veridius did make Emissa watch over Vis on purpose.

Otherwise, I think it’ll be a little random with Emissa just casually joining Vis to scoop horse dung, and I do not care how cool or attractive or fascinating he may appear, I still think it’s important. Hopefully? And why do I think so, you may ask?

I do not really think Islington deliberately wanted Emissa and Vis to be like, endgame, endgame. Like, The EndgameTM. Maybe Emissa was trying to get more information on him. I don't know. It’s plausible. Emissa is top of the academy after Indol, and besides Indol being of course the smartest (as told by Vis), Emissa is FAR smarter than most readers deem her to be. I don't think everything as simple as this. Emissa simply cannot be this blind and radiant and carefree. She isn't in a perfume ad. We've established, from the book itself, that twotm is LAYERS upon LAYERS and twist after twist.

First of all, I’m so sorry, but Emissa and Vis have like no chemistry (imo). They do have maybe like a teeny, tiny bit, but the thing is that Vis has more chemistry with LITERALLY every other character his age BESIDES Emissa. I know, I know, every writer isn’t perfect, but there’s something so suspicious about Emissa and Vis’ dynamic.

As mentioned once on a Hierarchy Series subreddit post, Emissa and Vis have a strange dynamic that is unlike the others characters. With literally every single other character/friendship/relationship that Vis is in, there are details of each interaction, each feeling Vis has with them, what they do, bla bla bla, snippets of the scene, dialogue, ect.

But with Emissa, it’s sort of just…speedran? Like, besides the whole Suus island romance debacle and theatrics, their interactions just sort of go…

“Emissa visited me in the stables and we talked. For a long time. She helped me. She's nice. Also, her eyes are really green.”

“Emissa sometimes studied with Callidus and I in the morning, sometimes not. Blablabla, she’s great and funny.”

“Emissa talked with me during Suus after noticing that I was uncomfortable with the politician people, blabla. ”

“Emissa and I trained together. In Three. Emissa helped me study. In Three. Wow, she makes me smile. Haha.”

Obviously, I'm exaggerating, but I'm definitely NOT wrong. Open the book and reread it. I DARE you to tell me I'm wrong.

See, there’s no real scene with them. Is it just me who noticed this? Just a time jump where Vis summarizes everything he did with her and how awesome and fun it was. There’s no way an author, writing a book with this much description and detail, just fumbles a romance by writing it like this.

NOT ONLY THAT, but even the CONFESSION scene isn’t anything as theatric as the rest of the book. Not even a SMIDGEN. Even the whole kiss can be easily forgotten. It’s not some dramatic confession. It's not romantic. It's not even sweet and heart-warming in that subtle, simple way. It's just a really lukewarm 'maybe i like you' and then boom, and it's over in an instant.

Vis mentions Indol and the secret that Emissa accidentally exposes of Indol, and then Emissa (suspiciously) changes the topic to how much she likes Vis and kisses Vis. And then boom, romance. A quick end scene, as if it wasn't ever important.

Isn’t it like, hella SUSPICIOUS? She changed the topic. Kissed him. Distracted him. And then the scene ended like it wasn't a whole Vis-Developing, Emissa-Developing, HUGE relationship moment.

Which, yeah, maybe she did like him at some point, but it sure as hell is convenient, isn’t it? I’m super invested in her character now, which is ironic because I used to not be able to STAND her because I just thought her character was just a really poorly written love interest.

I’m convinced Islington has the writer ability to write a confession/kiss scene much better, and much less random than that. Which means that I really don’t think he INTENDED to make hearts swoon. Just to distract.

Emissa is very fascinating, and few people acknowledge that, and I am EXTREMELY excited for The Strength of the Few to release.

#the will of the many #vis telimus #the will of the many vis #the will of the many emissa #Emissa Corenius #twotm #twotm emissa #twotm vis #james islington #this is my humble attempt in joining the teeny tiny twotm tumblr community #hierarchy series #hierarchy #hierarchy james islington

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irkimatsu · 1 day

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Husk being such a sweetheart and being with him meaning knowing you never ever have to worry about your looks with him.

He’s shirtless and has messy fur all the time for crying out loud.

You have body image issues? He’ll put a stop to any spirals with a bunch of kisses and affirmations.

You think your looks aren’t enough? Someone said something? Tell him who it was. He’s gonna have a nice chat with the idiot who made his honey feel even remotely bad.

Having a day where it feels like everything is just wrong? You’re not thick or thin enough in the right places? He’s right there to remind you that beauty standards are bullshit and you are so damn beautiful and sexy to him, or do you need a little reminding doll face~

Just always knowing no matter what you think or feel about your body Husk is always there to remind you how much he loves it (in some very, very nice ways sometimes too *cough cough* worship kink *cough cough* who said that)

Idk, just some Husk comfort for some issues

- 💃

I talked about a lot of this in the other ask you sent, but ohhhh boy worship kink. Fucking worship kink. (I'm writing from the perspective of a fat reader with tits because I'm a fat reader with tits, hoorah for self-indulgence)

Husk getting the bedroom set up for a night of romance like he's so good at, with relaxing music and scented candles. You're laying nude on his bed, and he's standing over you, eyeing you; not with lustful hunger, but as if he's admiring a priceless work of art.

"Beautiful..." his whispers, voice so soft and full of awe.

"...what about me is beautiful?" you ask. It's not that you think Husk would lie to you to make you feel better; he's never been that kind of man. But being spread out like this for him, so vulnerable... your nerves are making it hard for you to figure out what it is about you that he likes so much.

"Where do I even start?" he asks as he climbs into the bed and hovers over you on all fours. His pupils are blown wide, and his tail is waving in fascination. A gentle purr rumbles in his throat. "Your eyes are beautiful..." he starts as he gently drags a claw down your cheek. Before you have time to deny his compliment, he's already sliding down your body. "And your chest..." He chuckles deeply, his voice sweet like warm honey, as he nuzzles against one of your breasts. "Fuckin' soft..."

You half-laugh, half-moan as his fur tickles the sensitive flesh.

"Fuckin' cute voice, too..."

As he continues kissing and nuzzling your chest, he trails his claws down your sides, before letting them rest on your hips. Your nerves are screaming in panic. You're considerably overweight; not curvy, not plump, just fat. How could he possibly-

You gasp at the pressure as he massages your hips in his palms.

"I like having something to grab," he says. "Something to hold on to while I pull you close to me..."

He squeezes your thigh between his legs and lightly grinds against it. Another part of you that could stand to be smaller-

"Fuck..." His wings flutter as he thrusts, and his eyelids drift half-shut. "This must be what heaven feels like. Can't imagine anything softer... 'cept being inside you, of course," he adds with a playful laugh.

"Husk... wouldn't you like me better if I-"

"No."

"But you don't even know what-"

"I like you as you are. That's it." He moves his nuzzling up to your neck. "Do you know what it's like for me when I hold you?" He rolls off of you to lay by your side, and pulls you into his arms to prove his point. "Feeling every soft part of you pressed against me? Having so much of you to touch and kiss?" His paws focus their affections on your ass and thighs as he continues kissing your neck, before burying his face into it and growling in satisfaction. "You fit so perfectly in my arms. Why would I want less of you?"

"Husk..." You're still not sure if you believe him; all you can do is hope that he doesn't ever let you go. His embrace is so comforting, and his touches almost make you feel... desired.

"How can I convince you that you're fuckin' perfect for me? I'll touch you anywhere, kiss you anywhere. Just tell me. Let me prove it."

He's not backing down until you finally believe in what he sees in you. You may be laying here for a while, at the mercy of his paws and his lips... at least both of you will enjoy every second.

#irk blubbers about nothing #irk huskposts #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers

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dog-ending · 2 months

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pipin' hot take: veggie sandwiches are the best and most flavorful sandwiches ever created BUT only if theyre allowed to be "unhealthy" and not just a bunch of spinach on dry toast

if that sandwich isnt slathered in butter or cream cheese or mayo with pickles and cheese(s) its just inedible and sad

#the bread's at least gotta be panfried in some kinda grease #you may add a protein source but it shouldnt take center stage #you may use vegan alternatives to the cheeses and condiments BUT #they all still have to be fats of some kind

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batz · 1 year

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realizing its almost been 6 months since top surgery:)

#frank.txt #despite all the complications i had w healing im rlly happy w how my chest looks:)#ALTHOUGH. ONE BIG COMPLAINT #i used to use my bras as an extra pocket for my phone or lighter or whatever. but now i dont wear bras and therefore have no extra pocket #:( u win some u lose some :(#anyway all shirts look awesome on me now AND i can wear t shirts w funny text or image ans ppl wont feel awkward reading it:)#also the scars r fading rlly well! they almost blend in w my skin completely! (keyword almost. theyr still visible atp)#the way the scars r shaped is interesting bc theyre like a U shape. but bc of that when i inevitably build my pectoral muscles #the scars should blend into the shadow caused by thr muscle. i also dont have a Completrly flat chest bc im fat:0 #tbh my surgeon did rlly well . i have a lot of problems with him bc hes kind of a dick but from like. idk an artistic standpoint hes good #but the doctor standpoint hes Uhm. well i lost a nipple and had severe infection due to denied antibiotics and lack of aftercare #BUT. the lost nipple isnt visible and it looks normal now somehow AND. i didn't die from the infection so. I mean #i just had to spend christmas with a fever of 103 LMAO #HONESTLY THO i would do it again EVEN if i knew i would go thru hell bc this surgery fuckn saved my life holy shit #i didnt realize just how much i dissociated from my own body bc of dysphoria. now i feel more in touch with it and happy!:)#also now i can Eventually get that chest tattoo i wanted for like 7 years lmao #erm yippee:)

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bmpmp3 · 1 month

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dysgraphic artiƨts risɘ UP!!!!!

#raise your pencils!!!! and erasers. to fix the backwards letters 😔#sorry still thinking about my weirdness with my art professors. yknow a lot of em have been really pushing us as #students to make our personal identities a major part of like our 'brand' as artists #which. well from an art history major perspective thats a very contentious and nuanced topic. i love a lot of artists who live this way #and i think its great seeing my peers who focus on identity thrive. but also as an fine arts major (double major fool LOL)#i keep getting pushed by teachers into like. specific '____ artist' identities???#specificaly woman artist. which is a little bizarre because im a bit fat and a bit gnc so im generally like. ungendered? in day-to-day life #(which doesnt actually matter to me directly that much honestly LOL people tend to view me as like. buddy? buddy or pal.)#(not man. not woman. not anything human. sometimes i remind people of a beloved dog. which. hkdsahjk thats its own can of worms)#(a can of worms that also doesnt matter much to me directly because im a wannabe furry who chose to be the dog when playing house as a kid)#(LOL so um. well. theres that) but yeah i dunno i dont really consider myself a woman artist. its been. shockingly (and sometimes luckily?)#irrelevant to most of my life and experiences and art (although dont get me wrong misogyny is very real and very present) so i dont #have a whole lot to say about it from an art perspective. you could also call me all kinds of things. a queer artist. a mixed race artist #again technically correct. some aspects more visible in my work than others. but also very technical. i focus on race a lot in in my #art historical work but i dunno how much my drawings have to say. except that i keep making too many mixed ocs LOL #i dunno i just think my professors gotta focus that energy away from tokenizing me and over to supporting like actual #capital W Woman artists capital Q Queer artists capital A Artists of Colour who are doing far more interesting things than I #far more thought out and engaged in these topics directly. i just kind of stumble into my art blindly and confused <3 #sorry that was a long tangent WHAT IM SAYING Is despite all that: i do consider myself a capital D Dysgraphic artist #i think its an unmovable constant of my art and the way i draw and the way my hands move. the untrained eye doesnt seem to be as aware #of it directly. but those who are familiar can probably see it. the dysgraphia LOL if not just from whenever i write a letter or number #half of them are busted and frantically fixed HDKJSDJDS but its in all my art. if u can see it <3 ive been trying to embrace it #dygraphic artists raise your pencils indeed!! and throw away the eraser!!! make the legibility of your words everyone elses problem!!!#what does that say? what is that sketch? none of my business! none of your business!! its the business of my hand and the pencil alone #motor skill and spatial issues take the wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel

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hidefdoritos · 2 months

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#disordered eating and PTSD stuff in the tags #I think that eating is maybe a safe strategy for me #like I can assure myself that I'm at ease and my basic needs are met #problem being that now as I'm getting counseling and digging everything up #I'm having all kinds of nightmares and flashbacks and sleeping like garbage #so I've been eating. uh. a lot.#some days are better than others #but I've had some legendary binge days lately #which is starting to show on my body #got a pair of jeans that isn't buttoning atm #and I feel fan-fucking-tastic abt that tyvm #and the body image issues bleed into the trauma #(maybe if I was *ugly* he wouldn't have touched me)#(maybe if I'm *uglier* they'll never touch me again)#(and maybe if I'm the *ugliest* then I'll just die alone)#lots and lots and lots of body image issues #desperate to be attractive enough to be loved BUT repulsive enough to be feared #anyway I'm lying awake after a nightmare eating thin mints and noticing the handfuls of fat on my body #which I think is incredible and captivating on anyone else but still judge myself so harshly for #maybe this is a testament to how badly I want to be alive.

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pink-elefantz · 5 months

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speaking as someone who grew up in a very nutritionally focused family (at least half of us have ocd) the whole ''heres this weeks findings on what foods are going to slowly kill u'' industry is infinitely more deadly than any food could ever be

#diet culture #being obsessed w healthy eating is mental illness sorry #literally dont care what angle ur coming from u need help if u think avoiding every food thats deemed some kind of risk is a way to live #ur allowed to eat red meat. ur allowed to eat fast food. u literally need to eat sugar and fat to live #make ur own informed decisions abt how to manage ur diet and keep ur nose out other ppls business #like theres still nutritionalists that will tell u sugar is inherently bad and to replace it with artificial sweetner. which is fucking bad #and this is not me saying u should cut out sweetners ok #im saying all of this is bullshit and u absolutely cannot build ur life on a foundation this shaky #if ur relationship with food is governed by whether or not it might kill u and u dont have a condition that makes that necessary u r unwell

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icewindandboringhorror · 11 months

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various little Pictures of thinges

#photo context/information described here in the tags since there are no longer photo captions #(from top Left to right) image 1: BABYY!!!!! SON!!!!! HE!!!!!!!!!!!!#image 2: I found a patch of these clovers that were kind of mutated or infected or something? like they were not actually Red clovers #it was patches of totally normal green clovers except every once in a while one of them would have one leave thats red or half red or even #be completely red. AND they were growing near a patch of these wildflower weeds that have red stems to them. so I wonder if it's even poss #ble that maybe some of the red like.. got mixed in with the clovers somehow? a lot of the patches with a few red ones look spotty and unhea #thy so it could have been the sun or something. I dont know how plants work. I just thought it was really cool to find these one or two #special mutant clovers in huge patches of ohtwerise totally normal green clovers.. :0 #image 3: look at these weird round fat baby carrot things... Rotund #image 4: laying out some fabrics for a costume just drafting them and seeing what looks okay in the pile and what doesnt etc.#thats my whole process is just 'throw things into a pile on the floor that look okay and match then put them on eventually' lol #image 5: MORE wii scores lol.. I think this is my best score on this one though. There's 10 little markers you have to select so getting 7 #means I selected more than one per second.#image 6: I couldnt decide which type of muffins I wanted so I just made a batch of plain/vanilla batter and then added things to each littl #section to make multiple flavors without having to actually make a full batch or multiple batters lol. I think it's chocolate swirl (with d #rk chocolate chunks). banana cinnamon. strawberry. normal chocolate. rosemary and lemon. peach. ginger peach turmeric. and #'scraps of the other batters all thrown together' lol. Decent however the random recipe I found online for a basic cupcake batter was #not very good and they were weirdly dense and spongy.#image 7: A PICTURE OF THE dishscapes that I watched and rambled about (to the like 5 of you who saw that post #and read the tags of it lol).... beach houes..I still so much wish I could make my own Fantasy Screensaver Story.. oughh #image 8 & 9: a really cool flower from outside. I like that it has all these weird spindly little things from the center :0 #photo diary

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i-mybrunettelady · 1 year

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i genuinely think that ocs become much more real (as in they have a more physical presence in your mind, if that makes sense) if you consider things like whether they have things like stretch marks and body hair. seems like something you guys probably know, but it’s happened to me more than once - the moment i gave cass body hair, for example, he became just that much more real (for the cass enjoyers on main, he is a fairly hairy dude! i’m talking whole nine yards + full beard kinda hairy. anyway.)

so in that name, barring any non-humanoids, here’s a rundown for that for my gw2 girlies! under the cut for some talk of malnourishment and a lot of body stuff relating to ren, by virtue of her whole story:

nyra, outside from her scars, also has stretch marks on the expected places. she also doesn’t bother shaving - her legs are half-scarred anyway, shaving would be a waste of time in her mind.

sanne likewise doesn’t bother shaving, but she’s also blonde, so her body hair isn’t that noticeable anyway. i don’t think she has stretch marks much, but she does strike me as someone who has some cellulite.

mirka is also in the no shaving camp, but she’s dark-haired so doesn’t really have a peach fuzz. she’s also white, so it’s gonna show (kinda like how a lot of slav, specifically serbian, women i modeled her after - myself included - will be pale-skinned but dark-haired. that’s the vibes.) she also has stretch marks because she’s 9′3! she’s giant! her body had to lengthen and adapt to being a giant as she grew up!

ren,, oh boy there’s a lot to talk about. first off - she doesn’t have scars from her cosmetic surgeries. i do not know what she looked like pre-surgery. the scars were magically removed when she was healing from them. she does keep her stretch marks, because she did gain a lot of weight; when she came to the chantry, she was quite literally malnourished and entirely too underfed. to this day, she is more soft and has a rounder, softer frame. i imagine she also has cellulite as well. but she is mostly scar free, though.

#nero's random thoughts #alysannyra #renira sulver #aisanne bjornsdottir #vladimira jarsdottir #been thinking a lot about differences between individual bodies #and what some people call imperfections #i don't want my girls to come across as conveniently and conventionally sexy in body types #none of them are really skinny #beside sanne who is athletic and very lean!#but they're all some kind of mid-size bc i am mid-size #like. body image is very important to me #bc i've struggled with it #and lord knows i'm getting used to my own body still esp after my baby fat went away #apparently i have high cheekbones??#that's like news to me bc i always thought i was round faced #but that was literally baby far #that's what i mean #i'm.. painfully aware and curious of things i do not know about myself #and this is just my way of dealing with that #and this goes for personality/my whole vibe too.#but that's entirely too much rambling for tags #i just. do with this what you will #i needed to write it

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