i am indeed insane

I did a doodle.
KC stop drawing you’ve drawn enough.
No. Never.
KC stop talking to yourself.
You’re the one talking to yourself.
I’m insane.
Indeed I am oKAY BEING CRAZY MAY NOT BE THE HEALTHIEST THING BUT I CAN’T BE SANE OH WELL HAHAHA.

^^^

fullofstoriesandfeminism  asked:

Is Gansey's nickname for Blue, Jane, an allusion to the Dick and Jane books of old or am I insane?

It is indeed an allusion to those books, thebookishone3, but I’m sad to report that this fact being true doesn’t eliminate the possibility that you also might be insane. They are in no way mutually exclusive.

competitiveshark  asked:

"I miss you."

Send me "I miss you" to know what my muse will say after 1 year, 5 years, then to 10 years after your muse's death.

                          One Year

His grave was already surrounded by flowers of all kind. There was really no reason to add another. Haruka sat down on the cool surface of the ground, his chin resting on his knees as he prepared himself. “Don’t laugh, I am not insane.” Although it was indeed nearly midnight and he was sitting in a cemetery with nothing but grave stones and corpses as company. “I just missed you, that’s all.” Such a light, dismissive voice. 

For a long time afterwards the dark haired male sat in silence, as if waiting to hear a response. 

Jerk. He came all this way to see you, at such a late time too to avoid the crowd, yet you still refuse to utter a singe word? Come on, Rin, anything would do. Something like a ‘thanks’ or ‘hey’ would be great, but even ‘go away, I am dead’ would be accepted. 

                          Five Years

Less flowers now. Just one bouquet from Makoto, one from Nagisa and Rei. One from beloved little sister Gou and one from Nitori who clearly still haven’t forgotten him. As usual, Haru brought no flowers. He merely sat down in front of Rin’s grave again, this time, wearing a neatly pressed suit. “I know, I know. I never would have thought I’d become a research person. But I figured I’d try to find a cure for cancer.” That way, no one else would have to die of that diseases.

Not like you.

Haru took a deep breath to push back the pain in his chest. It was extra cold this winter, but he couldn’t resist coming anyway. Clearing up a spot in front of Rin’s grave, the ravenet sat. He fell silent, eyes shut against his folded arms. Waiting, once again.

“…I want to see you." 

                        Ten Years

No flowers this year at all. A layer of dust has gathered quietly on the cool stone. Gently Haru ran his hand over it, cleaning it. Gou had moved to America with her boyfriend, and that was the only reason she haven’t visited. “Don’t whine about this. Everyone’s really busy right now.” Haru patted the grave stone almost comfortingly, as if it was Rin’s warm shoulder instead of hard stone underneath his fingers. "But here, I brought you something.” Just to keep this shark from complaining, Haruka actually brought flowers for the first time in ten years. 

White rose petals fell against the ground, stirring under the freezing winter wind. Haru felt strangely uneasy today. It felt almost as if someone else was in this cemetery beside him. 

He looked around and saw no one, so he sat down at his usual spot and waited. 

Minutes ticked by.

“You jerk,” he said, shutting his eyes in frustration. 

Hey, don’t call me that!

Wait. What was that? A ridiculous amount of joy surfaced in Haru’s chest as his lips curved in a smile. “At last." 

The red head grinned, twirling the stems of those white roses he was given. It’s not my fault. I’ve been here every time, you are the one who can’t hear me, Haru. I miss you too.

The next morning, the police station received a strange report. Apparently, a young man visited the cemetery at night time and fell asleep sitting in front of a grave. The cold killed him. The police questioned this at first, thinking there must be another reason. Haruka Nanase had always been perfectly sane, no suicide tendencies. Besides, didn’t that flower shop owner say something about him purchasing white roses before leaving? That should have been the last person to see him and there were certainly no white roses to be found in the cemetery. Did the wind blow them away?

One young officer tried to lighten the situation by joking about it.

Who knows, maybe whoever he bought them for took them, and him along with too. 

After all, interesting things could happen near midnight at cemeteries. Some of things can be…Terribly romantic