พี่

"You know, you seem like a pretty straight forward kid, but I still can't figure you out," Bro says. "What do you mean?" You reply, and your voice sounds small and strained. "I mean one minute you're cuddlin' with my kid brother on the couch, making the most sincere 3rd grade moves on him, and the next you're blushin' and battin' your eyelashes at me like an anime schoolgirl."

Sei Dirk Strider, incaricato di combattere i demoni di Derse in un mondo dove tutti sono soprannaturali. Riuscirai a continuare la lotta e in qualche modo far capire a Jake English, così distratto, i tuoi sentimenti per lui? Sì. Sì, puoi.

Sometimes you wonder if everyone would have been better off if you had never been born at all.

Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my Bro decided that I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, did nothing but mix new beats at my turntables, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my free time to thinking about death. No shit, I told him. Nearly dying could do that to a man. Or, that one fic that will leave no tear unshed or heart intact because pain is good I'm a bad person and we all know where this is going.