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forever-rogue · 2 days

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you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…

i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!

AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; gun violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.

More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.

You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.

The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.

“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”

“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”

“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”

“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”

“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”

“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”

“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.

You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed.

He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.

“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”

“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice.

“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”

“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”

“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”

“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”

“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”

“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”

“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”

You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.

“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”

“Darlin’-”

“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”

Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father. Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.

“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”

“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”

“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”

“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”

“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”

“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday. She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”

“Hmm?”

“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.

“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”

“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”

“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”

You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.

But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy.

“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”

“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down.

“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”

“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.

“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”

“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”

“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”

“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”

“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d be enjoying this, “but I will.”

“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground.

It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming.

Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.

“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”

“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”

Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.

“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head.

“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”

“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”

“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”

He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately.

Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.

You took it without hesitation.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout #fallout fic #fallout prime #walton goggins

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matchakuracat · 2 days

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chronically ill/physically disabled people, how do you deal with doctors appointments? what do you say/do to advocate for yourself? im autistic and not diagnosed with a chronic illness yet and i really struggle to know what to say to get them to listen to me and understand so that i can get the help and care i need. even if i bring someone with me, they also need to know what to say and i don't know anyone who understands well enough to explain to the doctor for me, which means that i have to tell them what to say before going. but that's the problem since i just don't know.

i have chronic joint pain that ive had for years but has only gotten worse over time. i also have hypermobile knees which are the worse they've ever been right now. i'm chronically fatigued and barely have the energy to eat and do basic hygiene. i have a few friends that i talk to fairly regularly and im very thankful for them but i still struggle so much with maintaining a social life when i cant even maintain my own physical wellbeing. i only go outside when i absolutely have to/when my pain is low enough and i have enough energy. on average i probably leave my house about once or twice a week, usually to go to medical appointments, to an internship i have once a week or to go grocery shopping. i usually try to do both at the same time if i can (like going grocery shopping after my internship) but most of the time i have to ask my parents to get me groceries since i dont have enough energy to. all i want is to be able to go outside just to take short walks and enjoy nature and the fresh air but i can't do so without the right treatment/a mobility aid. everything im doing right now is bordering the line of too much. im constantly tired and overwhelmed and everything feels like a struggle, even the smallest tasks most people do everyday without thinking twice about it.

i have almost only had bad experiences with doctors and other medical professionals like physiotherapists, which has given me a lot of extra anxiety on top of my already pretty bad social anxiety. i really struggle to make appointments and even more so to go to them, and when i bring myself to do so i really struggle to express myself and explain how i feel and how i want them to help me. i almost always get shut down and offered no actual help with any of my problems. i just don't know what to do anymore.

if anyone has any advice i'd really appreciate it. i know that i can't give up because my life right now without accommodations is too miserable, but i also don't know how to move forward.

sorry if this was hard to understand. i really tried my best to explain but im having a bit of a hard time expressing myself right now due to feeling worse than usual.

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sentientcave · 7 hours

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Retirement Party

Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey

<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.

~3.2k

When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.

After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”

The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.

Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”

“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”

“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”

“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”

John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”

“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”

You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.

"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."

"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."

John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."

"It's not my house."

He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."

You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."

Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.

John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.

Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.

"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"

You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."

"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"

"Yes."

"Didja want more?"

You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."

"I'd like to see ye com--"

"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."

"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."

"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."

"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."

"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.

Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"

"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."

You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”

The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.

Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.

You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”

John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.

“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”

You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”

It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,

He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”

His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”

“No more surprises planned?”

John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”

“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.

He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”

“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.

John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.

You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.

"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."

"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."

"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."

"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."

"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."

"King now," John points out.

"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."

"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.

"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.

"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"

"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."

"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."

"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.

"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”

Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”

You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.

As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.

You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.

Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.

"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."

He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."

"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."

"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."

"Just most?"

He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.

You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.

He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."

Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.

“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.

“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.

“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”

“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”

You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”

"Goodnight, doll.”

You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.

Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.

“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.

“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.

“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”

“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.

“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”

“John…”

He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.

“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”

“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”

"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.

"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."

"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."

"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.

"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."

"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."

Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."

"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."

He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."

You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.

"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."

Thanks for reading!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#cod mw fanfiction #cave writing #John Price x Reader #x reader #dark fic #This chapter was so hard to write so I'm sorry if it's not as good #but the good news is that the next chapter is already finished! So I'll post it tomorrow #John you are so awful I hate you what is wrong with you #Also: I have like 4k of two lil Nitro fics because she captured my heart so we have that to look forward to as well #Anyway enjoy!#Retirement Party #Retirement Party Chapter 3 #Initially forgot a readmore lmao

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k-s-morgan · 3 days

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I find it so intriguing and interesting that Ciel, even though he has a magnificent memory and good brains, stil at the age of only 10-13 can keep up with Sebastian, a centuries old being... in terms of plotting, arguing, creating

How must Sebastian feel about his Master? Does he not question how can he be so extraordinary and so young? Or does age at this point not matter to a demon?

Oh, Sebastian does question it! He's long since reached the stage of "My Master is the most impressive, smartest, most beautiful, most utterly breathtaking human being to ever walk the earth." At this point, he even overestimates some of Ciel's strengths because he's wearing the subjective glasses of infatuation.

With the age, I don't think Sebastian fully comprehends it because to him, the length of every human life is just a blink of an eye. He holds Ciel to the same standards he does adults, and he admires him as as a person in general, not just as a 12-13 year-old.

At the same time, I think it played its role. Ciel is inherently smart and I'd argue that he always had a penchant for manipulation, darkness, coldness, and inner strength in him. But meeting Sebastian when he did, as a child dealing with terrible trauma, then being practically raised surrounded by his influence and his standards - it left its mark. Sebastian was his closest confidant, the only relevant figure aware of what happened to him and what he's like. He was also a source of power and protection that Ciel desperately needed back then, so he clang to him with all he had. After quickly realizing that Sebastian, being a demon, despises weakness and can turn on him in an instant, Ciel did everything to become his match and to wrestle him for control. He pushed himself much harder than he would have otherwise to be someone worthy of demon's particular brand of respect.

It all had profound impacts on Ciel's personality. Children this young are still developing and absorbing the outside influence, and in Ciel's case, a demon was the one affecting him. I'm sure not every child brought up by a demon would have ended up like this, but Ciel already had all the seeds that could make him a perfect match for Sebastian - all Sebastian had to do was to water them.

I think a lot of Ciel's views on emotions and human value are tied to Sebastian's opinions. Without him, Ciel would still be smart and manipulative, but he probably wouldn't find emotional displays this abhorrent. He wouldn't consider them a weakness and he'd probably see humans more like humans, not like pieces in his game.

In some ways, Sebastian himself created his ideal partner. The foundation was always there, but who knows what it would have evolved into if it wasn't for his influence.

#sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #my fics

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 day

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Just wanted to say thank you so, so much for writing Fate's Favourite. I actually found and loved your blog before I ever found that fanfic, and it was a delight to know it was written by you, and it's so clear how you've improved. But Fate's Favourite will always have a part of my heart, because it's the first story I've read that just has a platonic friendship that feels as equal as a romantic one without being romantic? And as a lonely aroace that means everything. EVERYTHING. (1/2)

(2/2) I had a conversation today that reminded me that I'm never going to have the queerplatonic relationship I want that I've always wanted since I was a child, and how it makes me want to write one so much more, but then I've never managed to write the story I've wanted to write my entire life because I'd always be afraid of being accused of queerbaiting or people just going, 'but it's actually just a gay romance this isn't what friendship looks like' and just. Thank you for Fate's Favourite.

Wow. FF is a blast from the past!

You are very welcome.

Apologies for the long, self-indulgent reply.

That story was one of the first things I ever properly wrote and my first (maybe second?) truly long-form story ever. I thus have a soft spot for it, even though in terms of craft and technique I can't so much as look at it without seeing all my numerous beginner flaws and cringing and can't bring myself to actually point people to it. Much improvement since then, as you say!

(An excellent reminder that writing is a learned skill.)

Anyway. The other interesting thing about that story is that I wrote it before I'd ever heard of asexuality or realised that was what I was. I was a very confused teenager being bombarded with this pressure to have crushes and date people and all that general societal messaging we have about romance being the most important thing ever. Especially in YA.

So I'd go home after school and write that story.

Obviously it's more unhealthy than what I'd want for myself in my real life, but the sheer intensity of feeling and importance of the platonic main relationship was something I had also never seen before but craved. And still crave, honestly. So I feel ya.

As for queerbaiting...

A lot of readers at the time told me they viewed the story as 'pre-romance'. AKA, it's a romantic relationship and they haven't realised it yet for whatever reason. They mostly didn't mean that badly, I don't think.

(Although I sometimes think though that if the term 'queerbaiting' was as broadly known and misused then as it is now that I would have been mercilessly lambasted out of ever writing again! And I wouldn't have known how to articulate the fact that wasn't, actually, what I was doing. I think we need to be kind to new writers. I think 'content creator' is gutting something vital in the ecosystem. But that's another rabbit hole.)

So I've been there. It happens. But other people's bad takes didn't change the story and what it meant to me as a lonely ace teenager or what it meant to you.

I have had readers before make a similar comment to you about how it was the first time they got to see something so important to their heart portrayed.

That matters so much more than whatever people say about your writing who don't need it.

Which is why we have to keep writing the stories.

Even if it's clumsy and raw. Even if it's the first thing you've ever tried. Even if it's (especially if) it's a messed up fantasy straight from the most primal part of your brain.

If we don't write it, it won't exist.

And that's so much worse.

The nay-sayers can come to the party, but it wasn't thrown in their honour.

#mentions of this story sure caught me off guard #though not in a bad way #I'm amazed it's still floating around #the writer's journey lol #the writing life #writing talk

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our-aplatonic-experience · 2 days

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i got so happy when i found out i'm aplatonic, genuinely. i think the main reason was because i have ocd, and one of my obsessions has always been this horrible fear of being an abusive toxic piece of shit being without realizing.

in turn that made me compulsively look up articles on How To Be A Healthy Person 101, and *so many of them* would go on and on about how you should have plenty of friends and broaden your social circle because by being friends/romantically involved with just a few people or even only *one* person you aren't going to "grow as a person" and "humans are social creatures" and "you shouldn't push all of your needs" onto one person, and for a long time that made me feel really fucked up

i would join discord servers, i would give out my handles to anyone who would breathe near me, i would try so hard that it was only after i realized i'm apl and started looking back that i noticed how bad all of that was being for me. i'd get so exhausted and uncomfortable, and it certainly didn't help that in today's internet culture people overshare *so much,* to the point where i felt like if i didn't share everything about myself i wouldn't be able to bond properly with others and feel that "spark" of friendship. none of my friendships ever lasted obviously, they died off very quickly.

upon learning about aplatonicism, it was such a.. relief? "oh! so it's fine. and i don't have to try anymore, because you can be happy just being by yourself with no friends." and consequentially i learned about so many more things, like how i enjoy being *around* people and even *with* them to a certain degree [depending on how i'm feeling], but not thoroughly involved, like in a class or a club, or people watching in an online game, that's how i get most of my Social Interaction Points. it all made me realize that i can reject concepts that don't work for me regardless of what society tells me, and that i should prioritize my well being and my happiness which had always been something i struggled with throughout my entire life.

most importantly, it made me more confident in how i navigate my relationships nowdays, and it made me better at establishing boundaries and pursuing the things i want. i have so much time and so many things i wanna do when i'm pretty much by myself almost all the time, it's very fun! feels so nice when i can stop for a second and appreciate that i'm by myself.

to all apls out there, you guys are very cool and i hope you have a good day today. :] thumbs up emoji

#aplatonic #aspec #aplspec #apl

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hotvintagepoll · 5 hours

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Propaganda

Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it

Pearl Bailey (Carmen Jones, St. Louis Blues, Porgy and Bess)—vintage crush of all time, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and my GOD the PIPES! She wasn't in nearly enough movies, but every time I see her I'm aghast all over with what a gorgeous woman she was. Vote Pearl for diva glamor like no one else! (also....she was on the Muppet Show!)

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lauren Bacall:

"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."

youtube

"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."

"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."

youtube

"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."

"HER VOICE. Like yeah, she was absolutely stunning but oh my god, I'm obsessed with her voice"

"A gorgeous lady inside and out. One half of an absolute power couple with Humphrey Bogart, tended to him and other actors suffering from malaria whilst filming the African Queen, generally radiated grace and poise throughout her life. Also her last role was in Family Guy so she needs justice for that"

"She was stunning. Tall and beautiful with a distinctive voice and able to carry her own in a male dominated field. She won the heart of millions, including one of Hollywood's most iconic leading men, Humphrey Bogart. Their story was the stuff of legends, and the chemistry between them was apparent in the multiple films they started in together. She personified the film noir dame and yet she also adapted as Hollywood changed. Her career spanned decades, and she was honored multiple times."

Pearl Bailey propaganda:

"Pearl Bailey was an absolute POWERHOUSE! She's best known for her career in music and theater (she's a DIVINE singer, and very funny). But she also did several feature films, including a controversial adaptation of Porgy and Bess (controversial because of the story; the actors were pretty much coerced into it). She's got a style all her own, you can recognize it from a mile away. She's got you chuckling and crying from one phrase to the next. I love her <3"

youtube

"Cheekbones to die for"

youtube

#pearl bailey #lauren bacall #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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obstinatecondolement · 6 months

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My sister was saying "You should write that idea for a novel about [REDACTED] that you had a while ago for NaNo. I think that could be really fun" and I was like oh yeah! I remember we got a kick out of that one. And then, after a pause, had be like... could you remind me what the plot was again? Because litearlly all I could remember was that it had been funny At The Time and involved [REDACTED].

It was like when my mum reads a book and strongly recommends it to me the day after she finishes it, but can't remember any of the characters names or what happened, but it was definitely very good and I should read it so we can talk about it!

Except this was a story I made up myself and devoted not an insignificant amount of thought to, and then never committed any of what I came up with to the page because it was still early stages and I would "remember" what my initial ideas were 🙄

#fortunately my sister did remember enough that it kickstarted my brain and I remembered #but jesus christ...#how many perfectly good ideas have I squandered because I didn't think I would forget about them?#it's one thing not ever writing stuff I had ideas for because of y'know *gestures towards my general inability to follow through on things*#but actually forgetting ideas entirely feels much worse #I miss having an eidetic memory :(#but also I kind of wish I'd never had it because I never developed the habit of writing things down to remember them #until WELL into adulthood #because I'd ever needed to for most of my life #I just remembered every single word I had ever read or heard and almost every idea I'd given more than passing thought to in perfect detail #as a child I'd get so angry about people getting single words of quotations wrong or misremembering minute details of conversations we'd ha #because I *did not understand* that they weren't just being sloppy and inexact #and that they really couldn't remember things the same way I could #I really did not understand that other people experienced the world differently to me at that age #when they contradicted what I believed to be universal truths I thought they were trying to upset me or make me feel bad about myself #like when my friend agreed with my parents that apple juice was nicer than orange juice (when no one could *really* believe that)#I fully felt that as a betrayal #and thought she was implicitly co-signing my parents to hurt me #and that the subtext of the criticism was that I was evil and self indulgent for not resisting the wicked temptations of orange juice #and never even trying to be virtuous and subject myself to apple juice #which was obviously not as nice but was the more moral and 'healthy' (which was the same things as moral) choice #oh christ this has gotten away from me...#I hate being triggered by dumb bullshit that brings me back to weird esoteric traumas from my youth #can I please stop being triggered by such embarrassingly trivial bullshit for five minutes???

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random-human-being2311 · 3 months

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there is just something so beautiful about songs about the joy you get from such mundane things.

like singing about how the weather's sunny or the weather's rainy but in a way so heartfelt and uplifting the song stays with you, close to your heart for years to come even if you don't know its name

like singing about how much you love your best friends. not because they recently did something that particularly amazes you but just appreciating them being there for you and just generally genuinely making you happy

the most mundane everyday things can become the most meaningful and heartfelt and it's probably just because I'm aroace but I feel that they're so much more genuine than songs about how happy you are because you and your romantic partner got back together or something

i remember seeing a youtube comment a short while back that was along the lines of "I know that usually it's only love songs that are meaningful but this song is the exception" and just thinking dear god how sad must this person's life be if they can't find beauty in anything other than something to do with love. Have you never just stared at a bird perched in a tree singing? Never seen a painting so full of colours that compliment each other in such a way that they each make the others look brighter but it never becomes a clashing over-the-top mess but a harmony of rainbows? Never just eaten a really good meal?

I would trade a thousand shallow, boring, generic songs about romance or heartbreak in exchange for one song about the beauty in the mundane things we take for granted.

#aroace #ace #aro #aromantic #asexual #yes this was originally about the beatles how could you tell #but don't think this was ever intended to be EXCLUSIVELY about them #I just first had this thought when listening to Here Comes The Sun and Mr Blue Sky and Friends Will Be Friends #that one commenter ALONE drove me to make this how the heck could you think that love songs are automatically the most meaningful like tf??#I just don't understand it at all in any way #my whole life I've thought they're the most shallow and meaningless and repetitive #honestly though for my whole life I've been very obviously aroace even if I didn't know it so take that with a grain of salt #oh also shoutout to the beatles song Rain #it's a personal favourite of mine because I'm a weirdo (/affectionate) who likes rainy weather #so just hearing a song about rain where it's happy and the rain is a positive thing is just like damn this song was designed for me #I mean even if it weren't for that I'd probably still love Rain because it's a bop #dear god I need to stop putting so many tags on everything #the beatles #queen band #electric light orchestra #yes i know the irony of making a post about how there are things much better than love songs and then tagging the beatles #I may be autistic but I'm not THAT bad at picking up on social cues #ok that was a lie I AM that bad #but this one specific time I'm not #that one's ramblings

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murobrown · 16 days

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#let me vent here real quick #bachelorette/bachelor parties are one of the most stupid concepts we ever created #it's disgusting and humiliating to me #if I'd have a person who loves me enough that they decide that they want to spend the rest of their life with me it's like an ultimate win #i mean what more do you want to achieve in life? isn't that like a main goal?#I don't even mean marriage that's useless but just that safe warm loving feeling #and then you gather all your friends and you're going to look at it as game over?????#so anyway I should attempt a stupid bachelorette party this weekend and it's useless and incredibly expensive #and it's full of activities that are totally outside of my comfort zone like drinking and dancing and being half naked in a spa #and you have to wear some dumb accessories so that you also humiliate yourself in front of everyone #and first I thought will be able to handle it but yesterday I panicked and asked if I can be excused from all those activities #and people don't understand that my concept of fun is different from theirs #and i don't mean this in any negative way towards those people #it's just different for me and I'd love you to understand that #but... it's also not nice from me to ditch them last minute and let down my friend that's getting married #but yesterday I just had this moment when I thought fuck no I'm going to think about myself for once and it's just not right #because then you make people upset...#the actual wedding is another thing I dread...it will be an actual nightmare and there's no way I will ever escape it #so yeah I'm just full of emotions and I don't know what's the right thing to do and how to keep others happy and myself calm #at least last night I dreamt about Jake Bugg hugging me and if that's not the sign I'm going spend the rest of my life with that man...#i also decided to survive both of those events sober just to make it more challenging for myself #alcohol has way too many calories and i just want stay in control of my brain #i will see if the only three friends i have will resent me after this #i needed to sort my thoughts here even though I know ot doesn't look like so #i hope that you all are having a wonderful day and doing fantastic ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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piplupod · 2 months

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one of the cashiers at the grocery store i go to is so fucking fixated on shoplifters and it drives me crazy any time i check out through him (i try to avoid him but his checkout is often the most open/empty - hm! i wonder why! - and im often on a tight schedule w the bus). he brings up shoplifters every opportunity he gets and he seems so convinced that theyre a huge problem.

BUT WHAT REALLY GETS ME ,,, is that today the customer in front of me was needing a price check on one of the items bc it should've come out to be cheaper, so he was kind of apologetic abt it and saying "ah well, yknow, six dollars is six dollars, especially with how expensive groceries are right now" and i was nodding and agreeing (trying to show that i dont mind the wait and also solidarity my guy good for u for speaking up and getting the price fixed on that) AND THE CASHIER AGREES. FULLY ACKNOWLEDGES AND BEMOANS THE FACT THAT GROCERIES ARE CRAZY RN. AND THEN GOES ON TO COMPLAIN ABOUT SHOPLIFTERS. HUH ??????

so you agree that groceries are unreasonably expensive... and that sometimes ppl can't afford them... and yet ....................

#HE MAKES ME SO FUCKING ANGRY CMONNNN THINK ABOUT IT DUDE....#i knew him in highschool (small town things lol) and im pretty sure he was one of those kids who thought cops were really cool. so. yknow.#not surprised. just annoyed fdjkl #i would say smth like ''oh does ur paycheque get docked if shoplifters come thru or smth?'' but i dont want to piss him off #i would like to remain civil with the cashiers here bc its the only grocery store i can get to most of the time fdsjkl #but like. i would love to find out why he hates shoplifters so much #when i worked at DQ in highschool and ppl stole dilly bars or FULL CAKES... i did not give a single shit #even though the managers and boss would get kind of angry at us (but they knew we couldnt do anything abt it really lmao)#and then we had to put locks on the customer-facing freezers which was a hassle for us #AND STILL. I NEVER FELT ANGRY AT THE SHOPLIFTERS. BECAUSE WHATEVER DUDE LIFE IS EXPENSIVE GO GET THAT ICE CREAM!!!#also i was not paid enough to care LMFAO and i know for a fact that this cashier isn't paid enough either bc my brother used to work there #I DUNNO DUDE. HONESTLY I HAVE MAD RESPECT FOR SHOPLIFTERS #i've potentially done it a few times and its fucking terrifying esp w the amount of cameras installed now fdsjkl #i dont do it now even though i need to more than ever bc i was making myself sick every time i possibly did it #i'd get home and sit in the bathroom for an hour trying to make sure i wasnt about to throw up from the stress fdsjkl #also it was stupid to do honestly (but . needed. so yknow.) bc again. i dont have any other options for accessible grocery stores really #ANYWAYS. fuck that cashier i hope he realizes what a little narc he's being and gains some class consciousness or smth idk #all for one and one for all etc etc etc we're all in this together my guy #pippen needs 2nd breakfast

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scattered-winter · 7 months

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as lonely as being aro can be I honestly wouldn't have it any other way because as a kid I felt like my life would be over in my 20s once I married and started having kids but the first time I realized I didn't have to do that shit was akin to a bird getting released from its cage

#like idk. i remember watching my mom growing up. no time to read or paint or sing or do anything she wanted to do #because she was always doing chores and housework and taking care of the kids #and she said she chose that life and was happy with it but it felt like a cage to me every time i thought about it #and in the ''religion'' i grew up in anyone with ovaries was supposed to get married and have lots of babies as soon as they could #so yk. 20s.#and as a kid growing up in that environment i Literally thought i would only get to live for 20/25 years #and then i'd be miserable and locked inside the house for the rest of my life #and all my friends growing up Wanted that !! they wanted marriage and a million kids and all the things we were told we needed to have #and im sure a lot of this was just the culture we grew up in. even now after leaving years ago im still struggling to unlearn things #and as kids ?? we didnt know Anything.#but idk. i remember watching brave and connecting with merida so much because i didnt want to get married either !!!#but i thought i had to !!! literally that movie made me cry so many times fr #but finding out what aromanticism was was literally so insane it was like. i dont have to do any of this bullshit actually.#it was literally the most radical thought i'd ever encountered at the time #it felt like i was defying everything i've been taught and it took me a long time to separate myself from the mindsets i grew up with #and then longer still to eventually separate myself from that environment completely #but idk. im a little lonely sometimes and my siblings and friends are all getting married and paired off #but i dont have to. my life isnt over and i can live it however i want.#idkkkkkkkk im feeling kinda emotional rn. being aro is incredible fr #winter speaks #queer #personal

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omarfor-orchestra · 1 year

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"Non farlo piangere" girl he literally cries in his mother's arms when he's trying to fall asleep because he gets frustrated when he can't and now I'm making him cry???????????????

#i don't understand how they see this child thing #he's a child. he cries. sometimes he cries for things you have to say no about #like you must say no. why is it so hard for you to understand it and most importantly why the HELL am I the one who's somehow behaving #like the mother when she's not around #I'm so pissed off about this situation Imma scream one day #again. i love my nephew more than my honestly unworthy life for what I'm doing with it #but I'm 23 and i never asked to be a mother and i just want to do my things and have like a little corner for myself #and to be left alone for 5 minutes #which can't happen apparently bc I can't even go to the bathroom without my mother going 'let's see what auntie is doing!'#gurl what do you think I'm doing???????#I'm so fucking tired #and once again why the hell does he have to sleep here tonight when his father is perfectly able to take care of him #i swear if i were to see him once a week I'd be more than happy but every day gets exhausting #and in the middle of it all i also have to listen to my mother scold me for no reason. no one ever says 'oh thank you'#jesus christ #I'll never EVER have children btw #and i hope I don't fall in love with a cis man because if this is how they are I'm very tempted to commit a murder rn #I'm tired out of my mind bc me and my mother had to cook and clean the whole house for tomorrow. do you think #my father raised a single finger despite knowing we needed a hand?#fuck them when i get financially stable enough to leave they'll see me once a year #if they're lucky #again. I can't have my therapist tell me all this things which i start to think about daily and leave me on my own for a whole week #bc then i go insane #sorry I'll prob delate this later #rant #i realize now the post doesn't make sense without context but i was trying to make him sleep and he cried a little #like he. always does btw but somehow today it was my fault

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lenievi · 1 year

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I rewatched The Galileo Seven and you know, there’s just a lot of ??? moments and this time, I’m like

how come McCoy was okay with the delay when there was medicine to be delivered?

Like, on one hand, it’s pretty much fine with my own interpretation of McCoy - i.e. he thinks about now, he doesn’t think about the bigger picture, New Paris colony is “out of his mind” and he’s also a scientist, so he would probably like to go and explore the quasar - if we assume quasars also have some biological reasons for him to go idk, I’m not a scientist (I guess observing the effects it could have on the crew is one of the reasons, but is that really something a CMO needs to attend to? honestly, McCoy’s presence is a big WTF)

on the other hand, I don’t think it fits the “McCoy cares so much for lives of others” that’s more common than my own interpretation

but Kirk said, hey, quasar, go and study it, and it seems that neither Spock nor McCoy had any problems with it, or they were at least okay with Kirk’s reasoning “we have two days, we can afford the delay”

and I wonder if Kirk and McCoy at least argued a bit about it. Or, if McCoy was actually the one who pushed Kirk to allow him to go because “wanna study this, Jim, let me go”

idk just me rambling because the episode made me wonder

#kirk was so sad when he thought he lost his men #and then he was so happy when he heard five of them came back #he didn't even know who was back he was just relieved most of them did make it back #and then he was an ass to spock #him and mccoy just like to gang up on spock #also what i also thought of was that even though spock acted in desperation he didn't actually believe that the enterprise would still be #around #which i think could serve as a good stepping stone when it comes to spock and kirk's friendship development #i should probably make a note if there ever comes a day i'd need that lol even though i guess i would address things like these if i #continued my mc/s wip #also it must be funny to watch this episode after the menagerie because it makes kirk look like an idiot when he says #for the first time in your life you committed a purely human act #*emotional #when spock's mutiny exists #in the production order the menagerie is after the galileo seven so it's not a problem #tos nonsense

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inkskinned · 1 year

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it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

#something something toxic relationships notwithstanding #(re: the friends stuff)#most people love you. automatically. for being alive. like people are just MADE that way.#and the reason kms jokes don't always land is bc people fucking love you and are like - ahhh how do i help #let them help you!!!!!!

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