#i don't even remember everything i've written

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.3k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

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

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

#planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #fanfiction #noa x human reader #noa x reader #pota #kotpota #oc/reader

[outrunningthedark]

And yet people are convinced about what the insider says about him being written as gay since the beginning. I don’t even like Ryan that much, but at this point I’m actually sorry for him since people keep ignoring what he’s been trying to say

TL;DR ahead This is where Tim's role in...everything comes into play, and I'm BEYOND tired of watching people speak about Buddie as if Tim isn't playing both sides - "shipper" and show runner. Tim considered Queer Eddie before Bi Buck this year. Fact. That means Tim was able to look at the way Eddie had been written over the course of five seasons (2->6) and could make sense of Eddie actually, legitimately being repressed. (And just remember that he interacts with fandom, he reads reactions and theories, so even if it wasn't INTENTIONAL from day one, he obviously learned to see what the audience sees, much like Oliver.) But here's the thing. Going by everything Ryan has said this year? Especially the most recent comments about the audience needing to get comfortable with bi men and straight men being close without assuming attraction, and wanting to show that men being vulnerable doesn't make them gay? You can't tell me Tim actually went to Ryan before brainstorming about how he could make Queer Eddie happen. Ryan is willing to consider playing Eddie as queer if he believes it makes sense for the character (I've never said he would never do it, so read that until you get it), but for the previous five seasons? And this season? He's been doing exactly what he wanted to do the whole time, we just didn't have the words for it until now, until he told us. Tim headcanoning Eddie as queer and/or being able to review earlier scenes and say "Oh, I can see how fans got this from that" makes for an entertaining fandom experience, sure (when the show runner sees what we see? that's the ultimate 'validation') but it doesn't change anything about what we're watching on screen when THE GUY PLAYING THE CHARACTER isn't putting himself in that headspace ON PURPOSE. HE DOESN'T THINK SEXUALITY SHOULD BE THE POINT. What I hate most is anybody taking the reaction to his comments personally because of those few people that will, as usual, call him homophobic.

But these comments don't need to be defended or even reworded to sound "better". If people actually care about Ryan the way they claim, they should be able to accept what he has to say without bringing negativity into it. They should be able to appreciate what he brings to the screen without wishing he would do more. But those people forgot Ryan was a real person with real feelings a long time ago. His 'true' purpose? Fit the mold of who they think Eddie Diaz should be. (For their own satisfaction. Not his.)

#anonymous #tina speaks #tv: 911 #tv: 9-1-1 #ryan guzman #eddie diaz

[darkbluekies]

hii blue! I'm in a bit of an edmund phase rn so I've just been reading through his entire tag the past few days ahah. I noticed that everything you've written for him so far (unless I missed it) has been angsty & typically with the reader not really liking him. I'm sure you get a lot more ideas and scenarios with this trope, but have you ever thought about writing something fluffy with him? the fluffiest we've gotten is I think the one where they spend time together in the gardens, but even in that the reader still feels unsafe and is a bit snippy towards him. I remember you said before that he has a boyish and fun side to him, but I don't think we've fully explored that yet. it would be nice to delve into it if you're willing!

i want to write that so badly!!!! i have these visions of him and Y/N in the garden playing croquet and him having his head in readers lap, while getting read to :(<3 I really want to write these, but i'm always "careful" writing soft because, in my mind, they won't do as well ... but i think that they do? i don't know

i think the only thing i have of him and darling being on the same page is the "running away but changing their mind" drabble

does anyone else want some fluffy edmund and darling? just so i know haha<333

[ursemma]

You're the best thing that's ever been mine!

Mattheo Riddle × fem!reader

Warning: trauma, angst, mention of knifes, alcohol, domestic fight, Pansy being a bitch, overthinking mention of depression and anxiety, loneliness, fluff, reassurance. Let me know if I missed anything (Happy ending!)

Post Hogwarts

Summary: basically based on Taylor Swift's Mine song.

'Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water?

You put your arm around me for the first time

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

You are the best thing that's ever been mine'

Being a guarded person never in my life I thought I would sneak out, that too in the middle of night with Mattheo Riddle, but here I'm sitting by a lake with him, being wrapped around his arms, it's safe to say he brings out a rebel in me and I feel safe with him.

Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together

And there's a drawer of my things at your place'

Fast forward one year later, we left the town and I moved in with him, he had a place in the town we're staying at. It was our first year anniversary and I bought a cake for him and a watch as a gift. "Matty I'm home." I announced as I kept the cake on the table. Hearing no response I decided to look for him in our bedroom and there he was and there's a drawer of my things at his place and that is open I think I know what's going on.

'You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded

You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes'

The horror flushed into my eyes as I saw him reading my dairy. I've written my entire childhood in that. How my father was alcoholic and how he used to neglect us, how my mother was so busy in work that she basically forgot she had a kid, how my parents reckless and careless behaviour made me so gaurded, how lonely I was my entire childhood that led anxiety and depression at an early age and how pathetic and weak person I was. And how it led to sever attachment issues and fear of being abandoned.

"w-what are you doing with that?" I asked him while carefully trying to read his expression hoping I wouldn't find a glimpse of disgust. Being an overthinker I can't help but think of worst of everything.

"why didn't you tell me?" He asked with curiosity. "Tell you what?" I tried to play it cool but I knew I lost.

"Don't. Don't do that. open up to me, I want to know everything of you y/n/n. Every peice of you. From your worst moments to your proudest, embarrassing to your happiest, darkest to your lightest. Every single thing. And I can't do that if you won't let me." He replied with a serious gaze and that truly made me break.

"what do you want to know? That my father abandoned us and went to exile and suddenly appeared when I was what like 13? And he used to come home drunk and every day I used to witness him and mom fighting every fucking night? Which used to remind me when I was just a fucking toddler my uncle used to do the same the only difference was that my uncle and aunt used to have a fucking knife pointed at each other. My mom trying to be a perfect mother she is neglected me by drowning herself into work. I was all alone witnessing everything with no one by my side. Scared from everything I used to lock up in my bedroom. I had no friends not even in school. I was bullied by my ex and his friends just because I broke up with him. I didn't had anyone to rely on. My fucking friends left me at my worst mattheo. Is that want you want to hear? how pathetic i am??. I replied while breaking down and he wrapped his arms around me while comforting me.

"first you're not pathetic. Second yes. I want to hear all of it every little detail of your life. If you don't tell me what hurted you how am I going to help you heal? I want to be their for you. In every step in your life I want to be their with you. And remember it's not your fault. And we'll never make your parents mistake. I'm not abandoning you or leaving you. You're never gonna get rid of me, you get tired? Sleep. And when you're feeling okay come back to me. The minute you agreed to be my girlfriend was the minute it was decided it's gonna be till death do us apart." He softly reassured me and that's what I needed to hear. For someone to tell me that it's not my fault. That they are going to be their for me. That it's ride or die.

'Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water?

You put your arm around me, for the first time

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

You are the best thing that's ever been mine'

Me and Matty laid down on our bed and I told him every single detail of my life. And suddenly he spoke "do you remember our first date?" "Oh yes! You took me to the lake and we were sitting by the water!!" I exclaimed as i remembered the memory. "Yeah I can't believe that you snuck out for me" he chuckled. "Yeah and now I ran away with you and left the town" I replied with amusement. "I can't believe that I made a rebel of a careless man's carefull daughter and you're the best thing that's ever been mine."

I looked into his eyes as he said those words and saw nothing but sincerity. "You're the best thing that's ever been mine too, Matty, and I would break thousands of rules if it means spending every second of my lifetime with you." He looked at me smiled and pulled me in for a kiss. "Oh yeah?? Where's my rule following good girl i kinda missed her" he teased me and started to tickle me. "Oh my god Matty stop" i giggled and we spent the night cuddling in eachothers arms.

It's been two years since that incident and me and Mattheo grew up alot more as a couple. I heard his friends are in town and we're going to meet them. "Hiee I'm Lorenzo but you can call me Enzo it's nice to meet you mattheo talks alot about you whenever we meet or calls or text" he excitedly introduced himself.

So I met Theodore, Blaise, Enzo and Draco and they all were friendly, i already like them. As we were about to eat a girl introduced herself, "oh you can't be eating without me can you?" She looked over us and suddenly the table went silent.

"hey I'm Pansy Parkinson, Mattheo's e-" as she was about to complete the sentence "friend. She's our friend." Draco quickly answered. "Oh come on Draco you wouldn't want her to know how me and Mattheo used to smoke late night and cuddle up together? Is that what friends do? How we used to party till late forgetting about the world." Pansy spoke with a smirk and i already got a mean girl vibe from her. I looked over to mattheo and was glaring at her I was hoping for a explanation but was met with a silence.

"oh come on theo scoot over i heard this was a friends reunion and i wasn't invited" she said while taking a seat. "This was a meet up of the boys with my girlfriend pansy and it was better off without you, and i think by not inviting you clearly gives a massage that I didn't wanted you to be here" Mattheo spoke while shooting draggers at her. "Oh come on Mattheo did you forget i was always a party crasher?" She replied by throwing a wink at him.

The entire dinner went silently and I got up and went to restroom to wash my hands "oh comeon do you really think Mattheo loves you?" I heard pansy's voice. "I mean you are completely opposite of his type. You don't party, you don't smoke, you don't dress up, you aren't even that pretty and comeon you aren't even that confident. And trust me Mattheo is known Playboy, if you ask any girl from our school 8 out of 10 girls has dated him. He can't keep a girl longer and you're nothing but another experiment for him" As she spoke insecurity started to crawl up my skin. I mean she was right wasn't she, he has a reputation to keep, he would leave me if he find a better one, and i being myself would be left alone just like always. I'm not pretty enough, i don't do anything he likes, I don't smoke, i don't drink infact i hate alcohol, I lack confidence, I'm weak, I'm fragile, I'm pathetic. "Yeah you're right." With that i left the restroom.

I stared to think about everything she said and don't know how but I ended up at the nearest park.

'And I remember that fight, 2:30 AM

As everything was slipping right out of our hands

I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street'

I didn't realised it was 2:30 Am I looked at my phone and there were 80+ missed calls and 150+ msgs from Mattheo, there were 50+ calls and msgs from his friends. "Shit" cursing my self I decided to go home. "Y/n/n is that you??" Mattheo exclaimed with relief as he saw me leaving the park. I was about to exit but he came towards me.

"Where were you why weren't you answering calls and massages and what happened to you?" He asked me scanning my face. " A- as you can see I- I was at the park and m-mattheo after thinking alot I- I think it's best if we-" i stuttered while speaking. 'pathetic. Can't even speak without fumbling. Pansy was right he'll get tired of me.' the devil in me spoke. "If we what?" He spoke being dead serious. "I-if if we broke up." I gathered the courage and spoke it looking at my feet.

"don't you dare. Don't you dare to think of breaking up just bcoz 'you thought alot.' and where is this coming from?." He spoke angrily. "Don't you see? This isn't working and it won't. There are alot of girls better than me. I'm not like you Mattheo. I don't party, I don't smoke, I hate alcohol, I'm not like you. I don't like being in a crowded place. I'm not the one you want. Pansy was right about it Mattheo and on top you've a reputation to keep you'll get tired of me eventually." I hated how I sounded, I hate how this was taking place moreover I hated how it was falling apart.

Braced myself for the goodbye

'Cause that's all I've ever known

Then you took me by surprise

You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

"i think it's better if we parted our ways." I countinued i was met with a silence for a minute and I spoke "wh- why aren't you saying anything?" "Are you done?" That was his answer. "Are you done speaking nonsense? And care to give me a chance to speak?" "Yes I'm done you can say." I replied while trying to sound composed.

"I've changed since I met you. My life then was chaotic and it brought me nothing but destruction. I partied, drank, smoke to drown my sorrow, I changed girls like cloth just for pleasure. But after everything went down with my father and all I changed. I was in highschool then y/n/n. I was a whole different person, I changed the town to move on, to move on with you, to become a better person, and other girls out there they aren't you. I want you. And i don't care about them okay? I care about you. I'll never get tired of you. And trust me I'll never leave you alone. Fuck what pansy said I don't care. the reason I didn't wanted you to meet her wasn't that I still want her it was the fact that I knew she'll pull a stunt like this. And about confidence, it takes time you haven't completely healed, and we're working on that, and I'm there for you. I don't think you're pathetic and I don't care what other's think i love you and that's what matters and it's not your fault what happened with you." He hugged me as spoke those words and I believed him.

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter.

You are the best thing that's ever been mine.

Do you remember all the city lights on the water?

You saw me start to believe for the first time.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter.

You are the best thing that's ever been mine.

"And by the way, happy birthday." I looked at him in utter confusion, it's my birthday? Oh shit it is. "I knew you'll forget it" he rolled his eyes teasingly "oh comeon with everything going on you expect me to remember it." I replied playfully and suddenly he got on his knees I looked at him in confusion "so my beloved, as it's your birthday I want to give you a gift. A promise to always be with you in every step of your life, a promise to never leave, a promise to Cherise you forever, a promise to never hurt you , a promise to be with you till death do us apart. Y/n l/n will you marry me and do the honour to let me fulfill every promise I've made and accept my gift?" I looked at him stunned and it was dead silence and the only sound we could hear was of water running in the nearby fountain. "Oh comeon answer me and let me wife you up!!" He whined like a child. I chuckled and screamed "yes Matty I'll marry you!!" He slided the ring on my finger and hugged me we jumped like little kids and my inner child felt safe with him. I started to believe for the first time.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #harry potter #Hogwarts #theodore nott scenarios #draco #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire x reader

[silenzahra]

🤡🛒

In reference to this ask game ✨

Thank you so much for asking! 🥰 I actually had so much fun with these ones, so I hope you'll like my answers! 🤭

🤡 - For this one, I went and selected a specific scene from my Mario movie fanfic (the longest thing I've written), as I remember cracking up like crazy when I wrote it 😂 For context: they were trying to reach again the warp pipe to go and visit Peach and Toad in the Mushroom Kingdom, and they had a hard time getting again to the corridor that led to the subway maze they found... especially Luigi.

Here's where they are! Sorry for the terrible quality, but I don't know why, my laptop won't let me take screenshots of the movie even though I bought it on Amazon Prime 🤷‍♀️

Sorry if this is a bit long btw, but I hope you'll laugh with this too like I did! 💖

Luigi pulls one foot away from the pipe and stretches it down. He immediately notices Mario's fingers closing around his ankle, and, emboldened by the faith that the determination with which his brother holds him gives him, he holds on tightly to the upper pipe and pulls the other leg away from the lower one.

He cannot prevent a shriek from escaping his throat as he feels his body, after falling a few centimeters, hang in the air, and realizes that there are only two things that prevent him from falling into the water. The first is his iron grip around the pipe, so firm and desperate at the same time that his aching hands protest.

The second, of course, is Mario.

"I've got you, Luigi!" he repeats incessantly to calm him down, “I've got you!"

And it's true: Luigi's body has slid down the wall, so that Mario has managed to wrap his arms around his waist. He clutches him with energy as he tries to stabilize himself, and Luigi clenches his eyelids and teeth with the effort of not letting go.

"I can't take it anymore!" he shouts, gritting his teeth, feeling his arms screaming in turn from the tension.

"Let go!" Mario finally tells him.

And even though in other circumstances he would've considered obeying, Luigi opens his hands and releases the pipe.

He feels himself fall immediately, which causes a new shriek to escape his mouth. He waves his arms in the air for a few moments before meeting Mario's head, which he immediately grabs onto as if it were a lifebuoy. His brother, for his part, hasn't let go of his waist, but Luigi immediately notices how he wobbles, trying to keep his balance and prevent the two of them from falling into the water, and he hears him grunt when Luigi inadvertently plugs his nose by holding on to him so tightly.

Desperate to keep them both from falling into the raging waters that roar at their feet, Luigi leans his body as far as he can towards Mario, letting all his weight fall on him so that his brother's swing does not lead them to their doom. Mario, his face crushed against Luigi's overalls, utters muffled protests as he inertitiously backs away, his arms still around Luigi's waist, and Luigi, clinging to him like a koala bear, lets out a nervous chuckle as he realizes that his sibling's faltering steps are leading them into the tunnel and away from the waterfalls. He reaches down to try to get a better grip on Mario so he can breathe, but doesn't let go.

Then Mario stumbles and falls backwards with a scream, and Luigi's laughter also turns into a high-pitched squeal as he feels them collapse.

His forehead kisses the ground and Luigi lets out a groan of pain that rivals Mario's, who, having fallen backwards, must have hit his head. Sprawled on the stone floor, the two brothers protest at the impact, laying still on the ground. Luigi squeezes his eyelids, trying to calm himself down and to silence the pain that runs through his forehead and arms. Below him, he notices the rushed breathing of Mario, whose arms continue to hold him firmly in spite of everything, and he cannot prevent a smile from breaking out on his lips.

Which, in fact, is followed by a giggle.

Immediately, even though he can't see it, he feels Mario's gaze piercing him.

"Are you... laughing?" he gasps, incredulous.

The surprise in his voice only makes Luigi laugh harder. With half his body lying on top of his brother's, he moves his hand to place it on one of his shoulders and turns his head on the stone floor. He opens his eyes in the midst of the laughter and a loud chuckle springs from deep inside when he notices Mario's bewildered gesture, staring at him with a raised eyebrow, as if he had gone mad.

Before long, however, he feels Mario's chest rise under his arm, holding his breath, and when he opens his eyes again, Luigi notices that his sibling is pursing his lips and has puffed out his cheeks in an attempt to contain his laughter. Luigi chuckles again, amused, which causes Mario's laughter to burst out in return, and his brother raises his arm to lay his fingers on his. Luigi snickers louder at Mario's explosion, and Mario doubles his laughter when he hears him laugh.

For a few moments they remain like that: laughing their heads off on the stone floor, their heads close together, their legs intertwined and half of Luigi's body on top of Mario's. Mario's fingers hold Luigi in two places: at his waist, where he still grips him with determination, as if he were still in danger of falling into the water, and by the hand Luigi has placed on his shoulder.

Luigi watches his brother laugh, eyes closed and nonchalance dominating his face, and silences his own laughter for a few seconds. He wants to revel in the image of Mario in that moment, being happy and forgetting all the bad things. He feels an immense warmth flooding his insides and embracing his heart, and realizes how much he's missed being like this: alone with his brother, sharing a few laughs after a somewhat crazy situation, leaving the problems behind and enjoying each other's presence and closeness.

Oh, how he's missed Mario and how glad he is to be reunited with him again!

Moments like that convince him more and more that everything he's been through in the last few days hasn't been so horrible, if he can still have the security of seeing Mario chuckle and laughing along with him.

With a last laugh, Mario sighs and opens his eyes before turning his face towards him. Luigi widens his smile so that it shows his teeth, and Mario laughs once more before he starts to move. He begins to sit up without letting go of his brother to help him straighten up in turn, so that Luigi is kneeling next to Mario, who remains seated next to him. Every time their gazes meet, they laugh in a low voice with mutual understanding.

"We're the champions of balance,” comments Mario, amused.

"Of course,” replies Luigi, covering his mouth to contain a new giggle.

"Maybe we could set up a circus."

"Then we should definitely call Spike."

Mario snorts and covers his mouth as he gives his brother a wide-eyed look. Luigi bursts out laughing at his efforts to restrain himself, and Mario joins in with a loud cackle.

"That was a good one, little bro” he compliments him after a few seconds, raising his fist in his direction.

"Thank you!" Luigi sticks out his chest and bumps his brother's against his with a haughty gesture dominating his face. "I know."

Mario throws his head back and laughs heartily.

I hope you liked it! 😁 And I hope I translated it correctly too, this was a very quick translation, so perhaps it'll be worded differently whenever I decide to start posting this (VERY) long fic 🤭

@bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @itsavee4117 @pepperycar @keakruiser

@stripetkattelalala54-gf @roscolate Tagging you in case you'd also like to read this! No pressure, of course 💖

🛒 - Oh, that has to be mostly hugs! Hugs between the brothers, the forehead touch, and in general, lots of brotherly love as it's my absolute favorite thing to write about 🥹 I LOVE making them show their love for each other physically, as well as emotionally of course, but them hugging, holding hands, tickling each other, Luigi poking on Mario's belly, and of course platonic kisses on their cheeks and foreheads completely steal my heart 😭 I'm even getting emotional just by thinking of it 🤭 That's how deep my love for them is! ❤️💚

Thank you again for asking, dear friend! I really enjoyed answering these questions! 🥰💖💖

(I'll continue answering later, and please, feel free to send me more asks if you'd like! I love this game! ✨)

#asks #asks answered #ask game #writer ask game #ask away #ask me anything #ask me questions #send asks #super mario bros #super mario #mario and luigi #super mario fanfic #mario brothers #mario movie #writing #fanfic writer emoji ask #my writing #my fics #my fanfics #silenzahra

[criscura]

I wish I wasn't so exhausted and I could make more art.... I even planned out a whole prompt-a-day month for Saigenos/Genosai, TWICE, but the first time no one seemed like they could participate when I asked about it, and the second time I friggin lost the damned plan. I could remake it a third time, but I just....I don't know.

I've been really struggling to get along for a while, and I think if it didn't hit it off--or even if I just got really productive and it seemed like I was reaching crickets--I'd be so incredibly discouraged that it would bring me down even further. It usually takes my stuff a few months to a year to get reach, and that really doesn't do anything for me when I need the support immediately.

It's not that I don't have a billion ideas for so many different things, but my battery has been taking longer and longer to charge up and it's been running out faster and faster, and it's been like this for....a year?? Ish?? Maybe longer, I don't know.

I wish I could just stop needing so much fucking time to bounce back.....

#written from my bed as I'm almost crying from exhaustion and hopelessness #I'm PMSing and I had a really tiring day so i know this feels worse than normal #but when you've been struggling to fall asleep for months because waking up means being disappointed in yourself #for everything you failed to do the day before and everything you know you're going to fail to do again today #it's really hard not to feel like shit about yourself #trying to be constantly hopeful but never living up to your expectations #and then the few times that you do you completely crash for days #and then the only way to not crash is to have your big accomplishment be 'i went to the gym' 'i took a shower' 'i answered a message' #and just. again #to have the be the way you're living for months and months and months #it's so embarrassing to admit how little i can do and it makes me so ashamed knowing how much I've done and see what everyone else around me #is constantly doing #and then when i do share things it just kind of dies off because I've been too exhausted to maintain most relationships #which ALSO makes me feel like absolute fucking shit because i think people think i just don't care about them #when it's really that it takes me hours to get out of bed and I'm lucky if i remember to eat before 4 #and I hate so much of myself and see it as such a huge waste of time that it uses up almost all the energy i have to take care of myself #but if i don't do it I'll just hate myself even more #i know i keep on complaining about this but I'm. I'm trying to fix it #i have BEEN trying to fix it actively for so fucking long #but it's.....i think I've stopped believing anything i do has significant worth and it makes it hard to keep trying #and i know people will read this and say take something for it but when you're only interactions with medications and drugs #are one experience that scarred you so bad you didn't go to the doctors for ten years and one experience so bad #that you couldn't even explain it at first without HARDCORE disassociating #it's hard to convince yourself that anything will ever be any better and that it won't make everything intensely worse for years

[maddy-ferguson]

i really don't understand why people who only read YA or people who only watch cartoons made for kids try to tell us that it's actually just as good and deep and thought-provoking as media made for adults like i do know it's because they know it's not and they feel inferior or whatever but it's very funny

#i haven't read a ya book in like...hmm idk four years i think and i bought the most generic wattpad-y book because i was depressed and i #literally seeked out a book that was like bad fanfic because i wanted to spend money on bad literature #and feel slightly better. and i actually did #and are there good ya books sure not everything that's written for a young(er) audience is bad obviously but i remember when i was a kid/a #teenager i was like wow. i will never want to read books written for adults i'll want to be reading this forever. and then I GREW UP #i'm not even that old #for the cartoons um well i like gravity falls i'm younger than mabel and dipper did you know that. but they were younger than me in my mind #when i was watching like on tv for the first time because i was soooo mature #i've rewatched all of violetta as an adult do you see me act like that's better than like the rest of tv #it's so funny with the ao3 femslash poll thing this is what inspired this. especially when we're talking about ships i just can't imagine a #ship in a kids show being better than a ship in not a kids show like sorry i just don't believe you #i was gonna say something else but i forgot. 😁 #oh totally spies i watch one or two episodes every monday morning. pour vivre l'action il faut être à la mode #like it's literally fun but why do they always have to act like it's BETTER are you seven years old #and like i say: brf slt

[girlpetrarca]

I can't sleep and I'm terrified about my future

#I'll give only two exams this semester and that means I'm going to give four exams the next semester #I'm not going to cry over the decision I've made #it's irrevocable now . done #but I'm scared because i have to prepare a thesis for November #and im afraid I won't be able to do so if my exams ends in july #i haven't written something since high school #im afraid I've forgotten how #i don't know if ill manage to write a thesis for November when my exams ends in july and in September classes will start again #im terrified #why. why. my first two years have been so fucking good #why do I have problems now?? #now everything should go smoothly and instead it doesn't #im fucking scared #because frankly.. what do I have apart from this? #nothing #and the worst thing is that im not even that good #I can't remember a single thing about the exam im preparing #I'm scared and tired and I want to sleep and im angry amd disgusted by myself and my laziness #now ill try to sleep #i need to wake up early to study these past few days have been so unproductive they make me want to throw up #ill see if tomorrow ill be better #but of course I will #I always forget about my problems during the day #personal #university things

[kizuike]

I don't "like" Kamen Rider Gaim (2013) I am trapped in a toxic marriage with Kamen Rider Gaim (2013)

#original #It was stupid and I felt most to nothing for the characters who weren't the Genesis Riders (minus Sid lol) #Oh and Micchy of course. I loved Micchy #So that leaves four characters out of a huge cast #And with Yoko the feelings I have for her are 'this could be an amazing character had she not been written by a misogynist' #Ryoma to this day is one of my biggest KR favorites and I adore his dynamic with Takatora I admit this #Micchy is just what rich 16 year olds are likeOH GOD I'M THE SAME AGE AS HIM NOW #The main and secondary are nothing. Everything Kouta did Shinji Kido did much better. Kaito... he was okay #There's lots of characters I don't even remember anything about. Do people whose favorite is Zack exist #I've seen this show twice I know Zack was a major character and a Rider I can't say literally anything about him. He sure was there I guess

[epichnopterix]

ack I have once again turned a daydream about existing media into it's own creation

#this one is so far detached from everything that I can't even remember the original sourcr #it's been festering in my mind for a good year or 2 #it got so distorted from it's original thing that it has no resemblance to it which is just. I don't know #I'm stuck in my own head a lot when I'm on the bus or in a situation I'm not fully focused on so these things haplen #this one though I think is mostly gonna be written to try and learn how to write again #I used to write a lot because I was hyped up by people like my English teacher but then I stopped #mostly because my adhd caught up with me and I could hardly focus #and probably a bit of perfectionism #I have no idea how or where I would share it if I ever do tbh #it's early in the me actually thinking about it instead of letting random thoughts smash into each other phase #so I can't really talk about it bc I've only been compiling it for like 2 days and so much has changed alreadu #example it went from 1 contained story to 2 separate ones within the same universe #graaaaah I love getting obsessed over my own ideas #nobody knows them better than I do LITERALLY

[lost-victorian-sailor]

i read information. then i remember this information for 5 minutes. then i forgot information.

is this how it's supposed to work?

#but i still remember everything about a character that was my interest in 7th grade. like. i can show you quotes about him in books... #i haven't read these books in 5 years but i can still show you the quotes with closed eyes... #it bothers me. IT FUCKING BOTHERS ME. #my brain is so fucked up oh #i finished reading a chapter about the arctic exploration in antiquity after pytheas #and like i literally made notes #BUT I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING #im really bad with scientific information i only remember things if they were told in most stupid way possible #like they goes a well written passage and me taking notes like: he had atlas with maps. they're the only ones that survive. #i hate my brain #even when i write essays i need to THINK because i hate writing serious things and like my brain is not capable of doing that #i am a silly little creature #like. i love science. i love history. i love literature. but it is so fucking hard to remember things... #i still remember the. whole plot of that young adult fantasy novel ive read 2 years ago #but I HAVE NO IDEA what was written in a historic book I've read 2 months ago #what's the fucking problem???

[dreamlifebunny]

how to script your dream life and use it with any method!

hello friends! today i want to share with you how i personally script my dream life, and how this script is both my void list, states list, and precursor to almost every manifestation method i've ever used. i love scripting because it is not only a method in and of itself but it is also a simple list of everything you desire that you can now manifest using any method you love!

check back later for a link to my scripting templates. in the meantime, here are the steps to creating your perfect script from scratch with examples! all you need is a place to write it down.

step one:

time to brain dump! at the top of your page, write out every desire that comes to your head in list format. don't overthink it and don't worry if they sound silly or unrealistic; remember, absolutely anything is possible! you can write out a few desires to start or go hardcore and write out hundreds, whatever you feel inspired by. you can always come back to this step later. here is my example:

step two:

now its time to get organized! look at the desires you've written and figure out what subcategories they fall under. for example, "my eyes are light blue and gorgeous" could fall under the category of "appearance," and "i have $100,000 in my bank account" could fall under the category of "wealth and items." feel free to use any category name that makes sense to you.

step three:

now that you have a couple of categories written out and understand the structure of the script, your mind might start to have even more ideas. "ooh, now that i see revision is a category, there are a couple more things i'd like to revise..." or "why stop at one SP when i could have everyone chasing after me?" for step three, we go a little deeper into these categories and add more details of what our dream life will look like. you can also add new categories that pop into your head - in the example below, i've added "the world and society" and "skills and abilities."

note: the reason why i broke this up into multiple steps instead of just writing "write out all your desires at once" is because our brains can be mean to us and make us procrastinate if something isn't done "perfectly," so that's why adding an extra step is important to bypass the perfectionism.

optional steps:

because scripting is such a creative and expansive process, we might think of ideas we'd like to manifest in the future but not right now/not instantly. i like to organize my script further by adding another category: "future manifestations." these are ideas that i would love to manifest at some point later on but not necessarily while my dream life is manifesting right now.

another idea is separating categories even further into "instant manifestations" (manifestations that happen right now without things needing to unfold) or "perfect timing manifestations" (manifestations that slowly unfold naturally and linearly), if you want to get specific about how they show up in your life! however, these steps are completely optional and just fun details for specificity, and i can make a more detailed post on this later.

how you can use your script with any method:

scripting has been used as a successful manifesting and shifting method on its own forever because it specifically addresses one of the most important steps in the manifesting process - deciding what you want! by writing out what you want in your dream life, you can now decide that your script will manifest on its own or you can use any method under the sun to fulfill yourself within:

the void state: if you enter the void state to manifest, you could affirm "i have everything in my dream life script"

affirming: you can affirm "everything in my dream life script has come true"

visualization: you could create an imaginative scene where all of your desires from your script are fulfilled, or you can imagine looking at your script and smiling because everything came true

subliminals: you can create a very simple subliminal where all of your desires are included, or even a sub where the only affirmation is "i have everything in my dream life script"

the possibilities with scripting are absolutely endless. i hope that this guide has given you the inspiration and direction to write your own wonderful and unique script. now, go and get your dream life!

have fun! bunny 💕

#law of assumption #neville goddard #manifestation #edward art #manifesting #loa #loassumption #dream life #scripting #reality shifting #manifest #master manifestor #dream girl #that girl #bunny's originals #script

[yzzart]

"Oh, hello, Vogue!"

pairing: Tom Blyth x actress!reader.

summary: invited by Vogue, you and Tom participate in a famous panel about answering quick questions.

word count: 1.323!

notes: here it is! i focused all day, without drama, on this writing and finished it minutes ago. — enjoy!

"We're, like, Patrick and Kat!" — Tom nodded in agreement, looking and paying attention to your words and almost forgetting that you were being recorded. — "Anakin and Padmé?" — You wrinkled your nose gracefully.

"Lady and the Tramp?" — He suggested, smiling tenderly and was won over by your laugh and a long touch on his arm made by you.

"Oh my god, yes!"

"Hi, Vogue!" — In a gesture of introducing yourself, you waved to the camera in front of you accompanied by an inviting and friendly smile. — "I'm Y/N."

"And I'm Tom Blyth." — Tom introduced himself to the camera and future viewers. — "… and we are about to play Off the Cuff." — He moved the small cards, which contained countless and random questions, and directed his eyes to you.

"Uh, a great entrance!" — You crossed your legs, making yourself comfortable on the chain, and held out the small cards as your eyebrows arched at Tom.

"Thank you, my dear." — He winked at you and took, carefully and planning a bit of suspense, one of the white cards; the topics were random, they could be about TBOSAS, behind the scenes or something related to your relationship. — Everything was a mystery. — "What was the last song you listened to?"

"Hm…" — You rested one of your hands on your chin, trying to fake a thoughtful image. — "A song, which is still unknown to me, that you hummed in the morning." — Your laugh was registered and echoed throughout the room, and Tom was amused when he remembered what happened. — "I should have recorded it!"

"It was a little chorus, and it stuck in my head." — He explained, placing the small card in a reserved place next to him. — "I don't remember the name of the song, but it must be saved on my phone" — His eyes fell on you again. — "Then i can sing for you again." — Tom uttered with melody and his lips curving in a shy smile.

"So adorable and romantic" — You tilted your head, with a pleasant and welcoming smile, at your boyfriend finding your words cute. — "Oh, i think i know the answer to that, what is an item you never leave the house without?" — Your hands shook the small card, waiting for your boyfriend's response.

"You definitely know the answer!" — Tom stated in slurred words accompanied by a laugh. — "In New York, the key to my motorcycle and i have it all the time." — His chin bowed a little. — "And maybe, in the future, in your bag."

"One day i'll ride it, you can be sure." — One of the cameras focused on her face, capturing her words, or rather, a promise that you would love to keep one day.

"And i'll be there, my love." — Blyth took another card. — "Among all the characters' looks in the film, which one would you wear?"

"Definitely, all the looks worn by Tigris." — You moved your hands. — "In addition to being beautiful, they seem to be so comfortable, especially the one where she talks to Coriolanus after he tells her about Lucy Gray." — The image of the aforementioned scene was then shown in the video with editing. — "Hunter looks so beautiful in them."

"Definitely." — He agreed

"With all the sets and locations in the film, which one was your favorite?" — Another card was discarded by you. — "Tell us!" — His voice sounded curious and excited by the older man's response.

"Hm, i loved recording them all." — Tom turned his eyes to an invisible fixed point. — "But, i think i choose the cabin." — His attention returned to you. — "Even with those mosquitoes and little bugs that i've never seen in my life."

"You were scared of most." — Your laughs came in sync.

"It was impossible not to be scared!" — Tom added. — "There was one that almost got into my shirt and another in the river." — Taking another card, Tom read the words written on it and continued with a peculiar and curious expression. — "Name one unforgettable thing i've ever done for you." — The question came out slowly, delicately and with a touch of enthusiasm; and several moments, memories flashed in his mind. — "I'm excited for this."

"My god, it's impossible to give just one answer." — A slightly euphoric and nervous question left your lips, and you laughed nervously as you tried to think and choose just one of the moments and deeds that Tom has done for you. — "It's so hard to choose one." — And it wasn't exaggeration or drama.

"You don't have to think so much, darling." — Tom's voice calmed your mind so tight and focused on the answer; nervousness was visible on your face. — "I see the gears in your head locking up." — He joked, trying to relax you and leaving the cards in his lap and resting one of his hands on your leg.

Finally, something landed in your mind; It was completely automatic. — Like a lamp being turned on when touched.

"Well, it's recent, but, it's stuck in my head!" — You started. — "Ah, during the L.A premiere and you were wearing a pendant necklace and there was my initial." — The way you responded was sweet, soft and passionate in front of the camera lenses and people in the room. — "And i was speechless, just admiring that little piece and feeling like the most loved person in the world." — You sighed, with your eyes shining against the oldest's blue orbs.

"In my world, you're." — Tom confessed, looking directly into his eyes and his hand still remained on his leg. — "It was a surprise and i was so excited that i wanted to show it to you ahead of time." — That tall, young British man smiled with passion, which burned in his chest and had no embarrassment in showing it.

"A secret that no one knows and can now be revealed?" —Another slightly peculiar question.

"I have a photo, actually, a polaroid in my wallet." — Tom ran his hands through the pockets of his pants, looking for what he had mentioned, but, from his disappointed frown, the object was not present. — "It's not here, so it must be in your bag."

"100% chance." — Your head nodded, nodding in confirmation. — "Which photo is it?" — You asked, curious and wanting to see her later.

"One of the ones Rachel took backstage and it quickly became one of my favorites." — Without specification, several photos scrolled through your head. — "It was in the forest, and you were wearing a helmet, that of Coriolanus, of peacekeeper." — Oh, that!

"I think I even posted it on Instagram!" — Either it was still in your gallery, with a favorite star next to it, or, actually, in your feed. — "She's so adorable, i had her as the wallpaper on my phone for a long time."

"Now, that one I know very well." — Your boyfriend looked at the card between his fingers and then at you. — "A song that reminds me." — Tom bit his lip, vibrant and with the answer on the tip of his tongue.

"Definitely Daylight by Taylor Swift." — You pointed your index finger in his direction, thinking about more songs or explaining why you chose her. — "It's impressive how you manage to fit so well into almost all of her songs.

"And in all of our playlists, you always, always add this song." — He wasn't lying. — "I'm sure it'll be in my Spotify retrospective."

"Oh, and also that line." — You sat down in the chair again. — "In a world of boys, he's a gentleman." — Tom's ears, and those of some people behind the cameras, were witnesses to your quick and small singing; a lyric, which was also from Taylor, where fans marked it and made a point of putting it in each of his edits. — They've already shared it with you in your DM and you've already saved some videos. — "There are so many songs, i can't choose just one."

"Perfect." — Tom murmured, as his deeply, crystal clear irises admired and contemplated you.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)

BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?

Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.

#good omens #neil gaiman #brian levine #neil the gould standard 2023 #interview #neil interview #videos #fun fact #gos2 #season 2 #2ep6 #s2 interview

[angelshimaa]

━━ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

✧ cw :: gn!reader, angsty (heh), there is arguing and yelling here, reader is called 'clingy'

✧ a/n :: fun fact, this started out as a kirishima piece, but the dialogue said 'bakugou' so i changed it :D haven't written arguments before methinks, but i hope this is good !!

part 2 !

you knew how abrasive of a person he was, but you'd never felt it for yourself. every sentence felt like the sting of scraping your skin, and he just wouldn't stop.

the person standing in front of you looks like him. the same eyes, the same blond hair, the same voice that once never said anything to you with such poisonous intent.

but the bitterness in his words? the volume in them— a volume you dared to match with your own voice— it wasn't the loudness you knew.

and, as katsuki goes on and on, you wonder when the last time was that you could claim to know him.

you fall silent, eyes glassy and you stare. he notices the shift in the air, the shift in your face, and he snaps out of it.

"what are we doing here, katsuki?"

it's barely above a whisper and you're thankful your voice remains steady. you hope he can see how the hurt looks, draped across your face, and you wonder if he can feel it too.

"the hell do you mean, y/n?"

"what are we doing here, katsuki? how much more are we going to yell at each other like this? half the time i— i don't even remember why we're arguing. do you enjoy it?"

katsuki's face is unreadable. "enjoy it? you think i enjoy being like this? that i want to come home to endless problems, that i want to have every little thing psychoanalysed because you just can't leave me alone?"

it's a red-hot slap across the face, but not one hard enough to render you speechless.

"coming home? you want to talk about coming home, when you're never here? you're never here, katsuki!"

you clap your hands with each word of the last sentence, and it only escalates the situation.

his eyebrows are permanently creased and he scowls— it's ugly and malicious. you've never known him to be so ugly. "it's no wonder when you act like this all the damn time! always yapping away with your clingy ass— home isn't home when i know i have this to come back to," he gestures at you.

silence stabs, but it doesn't compare to the sharp, dagger-shaped words you've hurled at each other. you feel cemented to the floor with how heavy your body seems, and all you can do is look at him.

"i see."

in that moment, it becomes apparent to you just how close the end of everything is. the lump in your throat is as heavy as you feel, and as much of an invader as you are to his home and his peace, apparently.

there isn't much else to be said.

when you try to swallow the ache in your throat, and make to move to the door, katsuki understands just how harshly he's stomped on your heart. he watches you through glasses of fading anger, and as red becomes normal he understands the gravity of it all.

"i— i've overstayed my welcome, it seems. i'll go." you throw over your shoulder as you leave.

"enjoy your home, bakugou."

you don't slam the door— but he wishes you had. he wishes there was rage in how you left— rage was what he could deal with. instead, he hears the soft click of the door— he hears the hopelessness and the surrender in your departure— and along with it, the end of your relationship.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated &lt;3

#— signed ⋆·ʚ⁺ #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #mha angst #bnha angst #mha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou drabble #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

[headspace-hotel]

i'm...thinking about writing a book?

I mean. I feel really silly at the thought because i'm not like a scientist or anything, i'm barely at the beginning of my knowledge journey, but...being a writer was what I always wanted to do. It's what I've been doing ever since I could remember. And I'm constantly, constantly just so full of things that I want to tell the whole world. I will have a realization or idea and think, oh my god. Everyone needs to know this. But I can't tell everyone. I'm not good at talking.

I'm good at writing. But I will sit down to write a post on my silly little blog and get so overwhelmed by the SCALE of everything I want to say.

I think I've already started to write a book. I think the space for these ideas to fill is already the size of a book and it will never have any smaller of a size, and no one else will come along to write the book, and no one else CAN write the book, and IT HAS TO BE WRITTEN.

I want to write about the ways of the plants, of course. I want to teach how to transplant and how to gather seeds and the properties of keystone species...but more importantly, I want to write about how to learn the ways of the plants. I want to promote the habit of insatiable curiosity and intense observation. I want to show everyone that everything everywhere is infinitely interesting and mysterious, and if you pay attention to the plants, they will teach you.

I want to write about Symbiosis. I want to write about how we are connected to every other thing, how we have our own ecological niche as Caretakers, and our own special adaptations of curiosity and love. I want to write about how the ecosystem needs us to participate in it, not to cut ourselves off from it, and how our powerful influence on ecosystems can be for good or for bad. We are not a disease. We are a Keystone Species.

I want to discourage this Euro-centric idea that sees humans as separate, and recommend more reading from indigenous points of view that understands ecosystems better and sees humans as participants in nature, engaging in a reciprocal symbiotic relationship. I want to speak against all this talk about removing humans from half of the Earth or reducing the human population, and show other people that despair and fear make you paralyzed and powerless, but hope is powerful.

The most important and powerful thing you can do for your ecosystem is to love it. It is necessary to have hope for the future—to learn to imagine a future of restoration and renewal, and to build community with other people working toward that future.

If we don't imagine a future for our ecosystems, imagine them boldly and audaciously in ways that feel crazy and impossible, those futures will not happen. But just the act of saying, "This WILL happen. We WILL be okay." gives you the strength and energy to fight and it gives you the creativity to come up with solutions you never could have thought of before.

And I feel I have to explain, how did I end up listening to plants? And how did the teachings become so important that I had to write about them? There's this black, swallowing abyss underpinning all of who I am, some intimation of a reality so terrible the human spirit breaks beneath it. I had a mental health crisis back in 2021 where I was pulled deep into that abyss, and when I started rescuing little plants and caring for them, I was basically re-learning how to be human.

I feel like I was seeking answers to "How am I supposed to live in this world?" in the natural world because the human world of poetry and books and articles and think-pieces had utterly failed me in that regard. I had taken multiple poetry classes where I had read all the best contemporary poems, and all the poets just wrote flat, plodding, blunt descriptions of their trauma and despair. Nothing is wrong with these topics, but the worst part was how these authors didn't even take themselves seriously; they had to be detached and ironic about their own pain, like a snarky dystopian novel hero who jokes casually about the horrific reality they live in so the reader knows that this reality is normal and unremarkable to them—and even more importantly, that the hero is ironic and cool instead of responding in a vulnerable, human way.

And speaking of dystopian novels...there were a lot of those! It was like all the visions of the future I had read were dystopian. Even I had been writing a dystopian novel. But I realized that I wasn't wise enough to tell that story yet. I didn't know why at first. But then, as I was reading everything people were writing about climate change, I began to realize.

I saw a lot of patterns between the way people wrote about climate change and the tendencies of self-harm and self-defeat that gnawed inside me. Suicide was something that I had never struggled against, but I understood that suicide was only the most striking manifestation of a self-annihilating way. Sometimes you feel like by hurting yourself, you are being transgressive, exercising autonomy against an absolute, crushing reality. It doesn't have to be physical hurt; it can just be deciding no one will like you and denying yourself love, or thinking "Well, there's no use hoping for anything good to happen."

This is how people talk about climate change. They fantasize about extreme, horrific scenarios and talk as if the Earth is already dead and destroyed, and they talk about humans hatefully and as if they were a disease, and then congratulate themselves for seeing how bad it REALLY is instead of being in denial. It is easy for people to get attached to this and even get mad when someone suggests there might be hope, simply because self-harm can be very psychologically reinforcing.

It is common to call these responses "climate grief." But as I came into this very simple and quiet yet profound encounter with Nature, she had an answer to this philosophy that was perfectly gentle and placid and yet caustic enough to strip paint:

"HOW CAN YOU WISH FOR THE STRENGTH TO GRIEVE THE EARTH, WHEN YOU WERE NEVER STRONG ENOUGH TO LOVE IT?"

I realized, with a breaking heart, that I had always hated and resented my back yard and my home town, because it was an ugly place that seemed to me "Already destroyed," and my soul ached for woods and wilderness.

It had taken me 20 years to fully admit my love of nature, because I felt like there was no point in acting upon it—everything would get destroyed anyway.

I had not been brave enough to love the woods across the road, the creeks and the hills, because they were so fragile in a world that didn't respect them, they could be destroyed by some housing development at any time. So I just accepted that it was already a lost cause.

But it was time to be brave enough—not to accept despair, but to choose hope.

To grow up, first we had to become strong and get rid of silly beliefs like hope and fairness and love. But now, we have to become even stronger and start believing in those things again.

#the ways of the plants #learning to imagine the future