#but even if that werent the case owning a home or an apartment doesnt make you rich! not all houses are mansions!

[lazorsandparadox]

I dont trust any of yall that say eat the rich anymore because half the time youre not even talking about the rich, youre talking about greg the accountant who owns a house and can maybe afford to take his family on one vacation every year or so. And sometimes youre not even talking about greg, youre talking about his daughter becky who still lives with him because she cant afford to move out. Im begging yall to learn the difference between "has disposable income" and "literally has so much wealth that its harmful"

"Rich" does not simply mean "has nicer things than you" and if that how you take it to mean then i dont know man, maybe you should get off your soapbox and go read a book or something

#'if you really think 500 dollars isnt rich people money then send me 500 dollars right now lmao' #damn brittany its almost like the concept of 'saving money for things you want' exists #and theres a difference between saving all year for a vacation and making an impulse payment of 500 to some rude dumbass on the internet #'no one making minumum wage can save uo that much' you realize there are income brackets between minimum wage and billionaires right? #you realize someone who makes 30 an hour still isnt rich but can save up fot nice things right? #i saved up 700 to go stargaze in door county for 2 days last month but that doesnt change the fact that i live in my moms fucking basement #that 700 split across 12 months isnt gonna make or break my ability to find an apartment. its not even enough to pay a security deposit #but even if that werent the case owning a home or an apartment doesnt make you rich! not all houses are mansions! #when the revolution comes you people are gonna paint the streets red with the blood of doctors and middle managers and call it liberation

[impyssadobsessions]

Something I thought about for a while though my idea was completely different LOL WIP but I don’t know if I can finish it ;w;. I’m not so good with rendering things. I had several thoughts of storylines that inspired this…  ROUGH IDEA OF THIS IMAGE: After a bad run in with some deatheaters(or wannabe deatheaters… always had the idea after the books they be some trying to resurrect or create a better dark lord.), they send a large horde of dementors to finish them off. Draco Malfoy having gotten close to Potter and his life either to mend his way or an opportunity to help chase down the remaining deatheaters. Ends up being the only one able to fight. He puts every bit of magic into his Patronus, having trouble casting it at first cause of the memories and the fear. His determination to save them outweighs all his doubt, his mind focused on Harry. Everything they done, everything he meant to him.  And because of how Patronus is such pure magic I can see it conflicting with the dark mark on Draco’s arm. It festering, and reacting to the magic that is trying to purge everything dark. As the magic Draco is summoning is from every essence he has, never stopping even as the Dark Mark is bursting and shredding apart his arm. Ending with Draco’s arm having blown off of him due to the magic clashing. Most of the Dementors having been obliterated instead of driven away. Draco having collapsed just seconds after the light fades. His wand bleached by the magic.  Harry in shock, having watched all this go down. I Had several different ideas.. i still like the first idea i had but I couldnt draw it.. i might attempt it later but I thought it be a cool Fanfic idea… likeiwritefanfic =w=; I’m bad at explaining too. It basically was like a few years after the war, there was an attack on Pansy (with spells) that left her in St. Mungos. Aurors Ron and Harry are told to go and talk to the last person seen with Pansy that day. They arrive to Malfoy Manor, to find Draco ill and way too tired to argue much. Turns out to Harry and Ron’s surprise, that Draco is a werewolf, and obviously couldn’t have harmed his bestfriend that night as he went home just before sundown. Harry annoyed they werent told of this before hand and even the paperwork barely mentions it despite Draco being  on the registry. Draco however, having good knowledge on how politics work and people who would harm his friend, gave some very helpful suggestions. Harry taking these suggestions into account started unraveling a bigger mysterious. But as it unfolds, he is forced to take leave when Andromeda Tonks ends up being one of the victims, leaving Harry to take care of teddy. Harry unable to keep his nose out of the case, winds up at Draco’s again for more information, especially with pansy being well and better. And while conversing Draco again offers some good suggestions and leads. Ends with them confirming that someone with a darkmark is attacking them, due to Teddy’s panic once getting a glimpse of Draco’s arm. Harry brings the leads and news to Robards and Kingsley with Ron’s help, and they devise a plan. Kingsley trusting Harry, decides to visit Draco to judge whether or not Draco is trustworthy and to hear his advice with his own ears. Draco is then given a chance to redeem himself, but a permanent job at the ministry if he aids them in their investigation as a temporary auror. (His Leads not only having been correct but provided an insight they did not have) The catch is he has to do it, while pretending to be Harry. Since becoming Harry be the perfect way to draw them out and keep them panicking. Draco agrees, and has to live in Harry’s shoes for a good few hours a day, drinking Polyjuice to keep the appearance while investigating. Draco works with Harry and Ron on the case back at his manor. Filling Harry in on things that happen (more or less) so they can keep up the appearance.  Eventually a raid get set up, The real Harry is under his cloak with Kingsly and other aurors on standby watching the town. While Draco pretending to be Harry is with Ron and Robards and a couple of other aurors confront the deatheaters. The raid ends up a bust as they manage to ambush them. Draco’s polyjuice wearing off mid fight, once the deatheaters realize who been golden boy all this time they loose interest and send the dementors while popping off to find the real Harry. Robards is unconscious and Ron is on the ground having been mostly petrified or injured and unable to move. (Draco being werewolf having aided him in the fighting) Draco has to make a choice, if he runs to get aid robards and ron will most likely be kissed. If he fights, he’ll more in likely be kissed. Ron telling him to get out of there, but Draco makes a stand while he attempts to cast a patronus. He starts to panic as they close in, seeing bad memories all the ones he regrets flash through his mind. Then he shakes himself free seeing the glimpse of the glasses he discarded mid fight.  His thoughts turn to harry, and the time with teddy being over. Them laughing, working. He points his wand at the horde and manage to cast a patronus. Bright and pure, that got larger and stronger the more magic and determination he put into his spell. Planning to put his all into it. The magic starts to envelope him as he only poured his thoughts about Harry. Knowing if he let Ron die, then Harry would never be the same. Harry deserved every ounce of happiness he has left and by damn would he let it go. As his thoughts stayed focus the magic starts purging and combining with his blood. Pain searing through but he doesnt stop, even as it conflicts with the dark magic on his arm..  Basically ends the same with his magic having purified and combined with what was left on his arming, blowing it off accidentally in the process. He managed to fight off the horde in a spectacular display that harry and the others can see from afar as they run towards the group, having just realized what happen. Harry stumbles in on Draco barely standing as the light fades from his wand head hung, blood pouring from his left arm. Then Draco collapses, Harry rushing into stop the bleeding out. Ron letting out a “Bloody Hell…” Surprising Harry as he did not expect Ron to be conscious, staring back at Ron. Ron giving a short explanation, joke, and telling harry to hurry and take the git to st mungos in quick couple sentences. Cover been blown but everyone manages to make it out alive, even the victims. Draco no longer having to be in Harry’s shoes, but still ends up helping solve and wrap up the criminals who crimes get bigger each time. Can see the last fighting scene involving a magical mutation to Draco’s lycanthapy that allow him to fight side by side with harry. Everyone seeing Draco being a hero too. =v=b I Thought of this one for long time reason it better.. the sketch was based off my drawing abilities… =v=‘ kek. BUT TELL ME UR IDEAS… and hopefully i get this drawing done.. ;w; Also I was debating on fox or ferret for patronus lol. =v=‘ could be wolf too, in the second story.

#Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Drarry #platonic #romantic #harry x draco #aurors #Ron Weasley #werewolf draco #sketch #wip #dementors #patronus #fanfic ideas #Teddy Lupin #prompt #myart #drarry #fanfic idea

[vampyrly]

: / i need any help and/or validation for a situation im dealing with

ok heads up this is going to be potentially very long to read and get through, like possibly 10 minutes at most but it is detailed and information heavy, i dont want to leave anything out

if anyone knows me/knows me on twitter and has seen my tweets where i've detailed the bullshit my roommate has done in the past you'll know i dont particularly like their presence based on their immature and gross antics. well ladies and gentlemen just when i thought they couldn't possibly sink any lower as a person, they pulled through the shit olympics and won gold.

my roommate has a cat, they had it prior to moving in and on their account the cat has been by their side 24/7. it is very attached and has most definitely developed a form of separation anxiety because of this. there hasnt been an issue with how often they stay with their cat up until recently... their girlfriend got her own apartment and over the past few months my rm has been staying with her 24/7. as in, is practically never in the apartment. they only come back to refill their cats food/water and is immediately out the door again. occasionally they will sleep overnight but after that they are back out the door.

as anyone who understands cats or animals in general would realize, this is essentially neglecting a cat, one you have gone from being with every day, to essentially never seeing. and this was not gradual, it was a damn near sudden change. you can probably imagine this is putting a lot of confusion and stress on the cat. over time, the cat has reacted more physically. they have become prone to crying by the door, biting the gf's toes, glaring at her (i guess), and such.

now, about a week ago, the cat had bitten my roommate incredibly hard to the point of drawing a lot of blood. apparently this was so traumatic to the rm that they now refuse to even be in the same room with the cat (there have only been a handful of times where they've slipped into the room to grab an essential and shimmy back out) so much so that they brought an air mattress, set it up in the living room, and is now temporarily sleeping there. no, im not joking.

now im not going to go into detail about why this buildup from the cat occurred, i think it should be pretty obvious already why, but to my rm, they fully believe this behavior is aggressive and unusual. as in, this cat had malicious, negative intent to do harm on its owner. its owner which, up until months ago, they were so attached to and clearly loved. as a friend has pointed out, this isnt signaling aggression. this is signaling a need to get attention in any way possible. their own cat had scratched them up so bad to the point they almost had to go to the ER, but it wasnt because the cat was aggressive, it just thought it was playtime! the case is different here yes, because unlike my rm the friend actually takes care and gives attention to their cat, so this was a very rare occurrence. simply put, this cat is lacking so much stimulation, attention, and basic interaction that this, to me, felt like a last resort. because clearly, the constant cries of sadness wasnt doing anything for them. they're currently in the process of rehoming the cat and will permanently ditch it on the 28th. thats still another 5 fucking days of this cat being in these neglected conditions, and thats not counting when this started, which was 17th, 18th if were being generous on account of me misremembering the date of events because who can blame me so much has already happened its becoming difficult to keep track.

a cat that they up until this point loved and gave attention to as apparent by them claiming she is for emotional support, is being thrown out of their life without remorse over one instance of """aggression""" (dont make me explain why it wasnt again.)

my roommate knows full and well that they have every ability and every second on their hands to bring the cat with them to the gf's apartment but guess what? they simply choose not to do so! i guess those toes getting bitten was so traumatic because oh yeah may i add, the girlfriend is a massive enabler of the roommate and sees absolutely no issue to the actions they are taking in response. i doubt they even tried to properly warm the cat up to a person who is a newcomer to the relationship. im sure they both think in their heads that this is the most responsible thing they can do as pet owners and that they're such good people for rehoming a cat they cant take care of anymore. yes, nothing more responsible than neglecting an animal that needs social interaction as much as that one in particular is in dire need of. responsible pet owners would have never let it escalate to such a point, i'll have you know.

my roommate has done a lot of bullshit that has made me want to pull my hair out, but at the very least, it didnt involve a living creature. this however draws a line as i refuse to stand for animal neglect simply because im an outsider and have no direct say in the situation. i've taken as much action as i possibly can, phoning and texting and emailing as many people as i possibly can. i hesitate to say this is straight up animal abuse because as firm as i can be i try to give people the benefit of the doubt BUT. i will say that every single person i have relayed all of this info to thus far has told me that this is grounds for animal abuse.

yesterday i ran into my rm and they told me "heyyy sorry about her crying constantly, its just not possible for me to be in there whatsoever!" and when i asked if they have someone refilling the bowls and litter on their behalf they said "nope just me" ????????? simultaneously on the same day i said fuck it, i am going to break out the secret key i have to their room to check on the cat. yes i have a key to their room, i have never used it until now and if you want to ignore everything thus far to give me some shit about trust or whatever consider: i dont fucking care. as it turns out the food and water bowls are the type that automatically refill. so, hmmm. theres that part out of the way, but of course, you cannot put in a machine to automatically interact with a cat on the level of a human. as for the litter, i couldnt see since i didnt step more than a foot into the room as to not impede boundaries on the cat and i didnt want my roommate to suddenly come home to me knees deep in their shithole. it was probably in the closet but then how is that being cleaned? those automatic cleaning cat litter boxes dont come cheap and i know damn well they cannot afford one. and may i just add as a tidbit, the room has a sitting scent of pee. though seeing as how gross my roommate can get im betting its just them and not the cat. also that room was cold as fuck. were at 60-70s right now in terms of weather right now it does not need to be that cold......

here is a video i was able to capture. i mounted my phone on a monopod in order to get a scope of the room without stepping in too far.

i decided that the least i can do at the moment is to head out to dollar tree and get a toy or two so i can at least provide some amount of stimulation. before i left, i checked on her again.

she was just laying there, keeping her distance, and didnt lurch at me whatsoever. i came back with a feather wand and played with her for a couple of minutes. she responded a little to it, but for the most part she was peering out the door wondering where the hell her so called responsible owner was. i took my sweater off and let the cat sniff it. i have zero relationship with this cat, infact its the first time i've ever properly seen it as it is locked in the bedroom 24/7.

now you may be asking yourself, why is this cat locked away in a room 24/7 like rapunzel locked in her tower and not roaming freely in the open apartment? i too would like an answer to this! i rarely spend any time in the living room but even if i did i have NO issue with it chilling in there.

someone i phoned did bring up a good point that for AS to consider a legitimate case of abuse or even do anything, there'd need to be no food or water. so essentially, unless you're straight up physically harming an animal outside of their headquarters they dont fucking care. want to be proven further on that? my rm actually did speak with AS at the start of bite-saga. surprisingly they werent 100% truthful, and, get a load of this, they told them that the cat potentially has a virus, and that they need to be quarantined the entire 2 week period. thats some lying bullshit if i've ever heard some!!! not only that, just a few hours ago i peeped the girlfriend had the vet get back to them about lending a muzzle!

SO. heres the current situation as of today and what will occur to tomorrow: i finally phoned someone who is going to drop by the apartment tomorrow, potentially with another person (these are not random people, im simply keeping their status as anonymous as possible to maintain their privacy) to check on the cats conditions. they'll also call AS again and nudge the rm in a way where it seems AS needs them to expedite the surrendering process sooner than later. i cant imagine another 5 days of this going on, but theres only so much that can be done that doesnt involve me straight up catknapping the poor thing and rehoming her myself. this is the condition of the cat as of a few hours ago:

if i were someone uninvolved and saw this, i would have assumed she were a stray that broke into the room........

i try not to be petty and villainous, but a line has been crossed and the disgusting mistreatment of an innocent creature is a crime i refuse to allow be sweeped under the rug. if theres any benefit to living in a relatively small town, its that everyone knows or at least recognizes everyone. far too many people already get away with animal abuse, at the very least i can make as many people here as aware of their antics as i can. is that wrong to do? should i not air all that i can out about them? im so tired and exhausted. i've lost so much sleep over this and im probably going to lose a lot more. thanks for reading.

#cw animal abuse #animal cruelty #pet health

[kisshim-killhim]

Sanders Sides Steven Universe AU

*So I've lost interest in this au, but if anyone really wants me to I might make some content for it. In the meantime, enjoy the info for this au. If you wanna make content for it all i ask is that you credit and tag me so I can see what you amazing people create!♡

Thomas Human/Gem

Remy Human

Logan Peridot(Blue)

Roman Ruby(Yellow)

Patton Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz(Pink?)

Virgil Yellow Diamond(Yellow?)

Remus Spinel(Yellow)

Pearl Deceit(Yellow)

Pearl Picani(Yellow)

(Kunzite) Remus/Deceit fusion

(Sphalerite)Augustus Remus/Roman fusion

Thomas Sanders is the half gem son of Pink Diamond, Posing as a Rose Quartz, and a nonbinary human(based on my personal hc that gems can have kids with either gender since theyre virtually genderless, so whether this human was born male or female they could still make a child together).

Remy was the nonbinary human who fell in love with Patton. Shortly after arriving to earth, they met at a rock show(no pun intended), fell in love, and eventually created Thomas.

Homeworld:

Logan** was Peridot Facet-9I5X Cut-3BH serving Blue Diamond. He fixes machinery for his diamond. He is very stoic and is mainly focused on carrying out orders, no more or less. He was Blue's Peridot for a long time, and often spoke with Yellow Diamond(Virgil)'s Pearl(Deceit) when Pink(Patton) was around, as then Blue was closer to her people and the gems she ruled, and the Diamonds werent as strict with whether or not one gem was allowed to see the other. He would even call the Pearl his friend. But after Pink left, the last time Logan saw him, he found that the Pearl's gem was severely cracked, to the point of still leaving damage on part of his face to the present day(much like Volleyball in the cannon of Steven Universe). Logan falls in love with Pink(Patton) at a ball and is later reporting to Pink about important information regarding the rebellion for his Diamond when Pink tries to fake his own shattering. Logan sees Pink transforming into a Rose Quartz and after a breif concersation with Pink, he decides to take the blame for Pink Diamonds' shattering(therefore the rest of the Rose Quartz' would be unbubbled and they would think that the shatterer had already left so no one would be bubbled or shattered, since all that was held responsible would be know to have left homeworld already)and left with Patton(Pink Diamond) to completely to join the Crystal Gems.

Roman* was a Ruby serving Yellow Diamond as a personal bodyguard. He is a dedicated bodygaurd for Virgil, his Diamond, and will protect him at all costs. He doesnt care how hes treated or what happens to him, all he cares about is his Diamond and his safety. If his Diamond is angry, sad, worried, etc., he will happily offer for him to take his anger out on the Ruby. Roman is loyal and dedicated to protecting his Diamond no matter what.

Virgil* is a Yellow Diamond. He mostly lead and directed the colonization of other planets. He believed he deserves a bigger purpose, but often complained to his Ruby about how he hates to be in charge, contractory. Hes confusing and a bit tempered at times, but a respected Diamond who no one dared to question, even if his logic is sometimes unwise.

Patton(?) is a happy, optimistic Rose Quartz who was thought to have served Pink Diamond proudly. But in reality, he was Pink Diamond. He wished to see more of the world, to explore Earth freely and not be burdened by his duties, so he made it so him as a Diamond was thought to have been shattered by a Peridot gone rouge, and he left to be away from the other Diamonds' corrupted views, and taking Yellow's old Spinel and Pearl with him.

Remus* was a Spinel Yellow ordered to be made because she was curious as to why Pink wanted one. Though when the Spinel began making ideas and such, Yellow disliked him, and bluntly called him defective before leaving him in her garden never to return. She called it a mercy, as she did not shatter him.

Deceit** was Yellow Diamond's pearl. He carried out orders to the letter and at one point was very close with one of Blue Diamond's Peridots. When Pink left, his gem was severely damaged by Yellow Diamond. He wanted to still serve his Diamond, but even when his gem was healed by Shell, the damage to his physical form remained. And as it goes, he was declared flawed and, by default, useless. He was banished to the garden, as Virgil(Yellow Diamond) couldnt bring himself to shatter the Pearl. In the garden he met and eventually befriended an odd, kind of crazy Spinel who told him stories of a curious and mean Diamond who cast him away, and a sad, yet loyal and brave Ruby he once called 'brother'. Deceit decided he liked this Spinel, and they spent much time together wondering when their Diamond would return for them... he never did return. But eventually, a kind Rose Quartz(Pink/Patton) saved them from their fate and offered they join the resistance against Diamonds' rule. The two were very bitter towards the Diamonds and therefore agreed to join the rebellion.

Chrysoberyl is a fusion of Remus the Spinel and Deceit the Pearl.

Emilie Picani* was the Pearl to replace Deceit after Yellow(Virgil) cast him out to the garden.

Creativitwins: A Ruby was created right next to Yellow Diamonds first Spinel, as they were ordered ot be created around the same time, and for the few minutes they spoke they became friends, and later considered themselves brothers once they got to know eachother. The Ruby found ways to visit the Spinel, and the two became close. But eventually the Ruby got caught. He was torn apart from the Spinel, not to see him again until thousands of years later. They were saved from shattering, as they fused to create ____.

They his until the other gems decides they werent worth the trouble. They left them alone in the garden for a couple thousand years as punishment, and spare the Ruby so he could serve him instead, becoming his private body gayrd. He made it clear he would punish the Ruby for his crimes himself, which is what he blames Deciet's cracked gem on later when Pink leaves.

(They each have their own names apart from their gems because they believe it sets them further from homeworld's corrupted nature. It makes them more special. Some see their gems name as a *mere title, and some view it like a **deadname that they would take offense to using.)

The crystal gems:

When Patton arrived on earth, he brought Deceit the Pearl, Remus the Spinel and Logan the Peridot with him. Eventually Yellow Diamond(Virgil) sent his personal Ruby down to earth, as he had a lot of trust in his abilities, and trusted he could stop the rebellion and get Pink back. He had an army of Rubies with him, but when Roman faced the Crystal Gems, all but Roman were bubbled. Realizing what Ruby he was, Logan and Remus helped stop the battle(possibly with a fusion), and Roman eventually agreed to join the crystal gems after a lot of convincing and being forced to stay on earth. Eventually he has a sort of Peridot moment where he calls Yellow Diamond(Virgil) some insult to officially join the Crystal Gems. Yellow is confused as to why his personal Ruby, the most loyal Ruby hes ever had, would betray him, and he personally comes down to earth to stop the rebellion. But when he finds that Pink no longer exists, only being Steven now, and the gems catch him offgaurd and are able to poof him. When they unpoof him, they make sure theyre in a safe environment on another planet where everyone is safe in case Yellow attacks them again. Seeing what hes done to the corrupted gems when he thought hed helped them, Virgil eventually decides he can learn to set aside his ways as a Diamond and join the rebellion, not to overthrow his fellow diamonds, but to help them see what he saw. At first he thinks that hes gonna betray them eventually, thinking of it as an option if he ever wants to opt out of being on earth, but after returning to homeworld, he decides Earth is really his home.

Roman and Logan learn to see Virgil as an equal onstead of someoen they give everything for.

Remus and Deceit learn to(somewhat) forgive Virgil and move forward and let go of their anger and bitterness toward sthe Diamonds.

Virgil learns to let go of all this power he had and sees others as equals and individuals rather than subjects with a set purpose.

Remy learns that hes part of the group(add in some big thing he helped with) and is just as important as the gems.

White and Blue Diamond take over homeworld.

Thomas is the son of the gem Patton(who gave up his physical form to create Thomas much later) and Remy, and nonbinary human that fell in love with Patton at a rock show.

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #character thomas #thomas sanders #romansanders #ts roman #ts logan #logan sanders #ts remy #ts remus #remus sanders #remy sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts patton #patton sanders #unsympathetic patton #neutral patton #unsympathetic virgil #steven universe #peridot #pearl #spinel #blue diamond #yellow diamond #white diamond #pink diamond #Deceit #deceit sanders #ts deceit

[let-it-raines]

I was reading this "ex prompt list" and while I want you to write all of them, I really liked this one: "You talk about me in your new song and I get mad over it, so I’m standing outside your apartment door to argue, only to see you open the door half naked." Thank you, darling! You're a gift!

She’s on her way home from work when she hears it. Listening to the radio isn’t something she does, not anymore, but her car can’t connect to her phone’s Bluetooth and she forgot the aux cord, so it was either the radio or silence.

She probably should have stayed in silence.

Because for the first time in three months, for the first time since she was in Target and heard one of his songs over the speakers, she hears his voice.

And she hates it.

But she apparently hates herself a little bit more because she doesn’t change the station or turn the radio off. She doesn’t recognize the opening chords to this song. She recognizes the chords to every song. She knows all of the lyrics, all of the rifts and pauses. She knows everything.

But she doesn’t know this one.

It’s quiet, sullen, the usually prominent instruments muted in the background so that his voice comes through as clearly as possible. It takes her thirty seconds and two references of a swan flying away – really subtle there, Jones – for her to realize that the song is about her. She has to pull over to the side of the road, making several different cars blare their horns at her, but she can’t…she can’t listen to this while driving. She can’t hear him sing a song that’s clearly about their break up. She has to listen, but she can’t do anything else.

She can barely breathe.

He sounds broken. But she knows that’s on purpose. He records those songs a million times over, until he gets them exactly how he wants them to be, so she knows that he’s manufactured it this way. She’s watched him record enough songs to know how things work.

How dare he do this.

How dare he put their private life out there for anyone with ears to hear.

Hot tears sting behind her eyes, and she has to bury her face in her hands while her throat constricts, emotion lodging itself there and making her feel as if she has to vomit. Or as if she can’t breathe. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know anything.

All she knows is that she misses him. She misses Killian.

But right now she hates him for making her relive their breakup, for making her relive the agony that was the weeks and months of separation that inevitably led them to walking away from each other.

Or maybe it was her.

She’s not sure. If anything, it’s all a blur of tears and alcohol, sobs wracking her body while she was unable to feel anything but pain. She’d waited so long to find someone who understood her, who wanted to be with her with no reservations, who wouldn’t leave. But then he had left. It had been for work. She knows this. She understands this. Despite everything, she wants nothing more than for him to be happy and to follow his dreams. She just wishes it didn’t come at the expense of them.

She just wishes she’d been strong enough to handle the months of separation and the way that their schedules never matched up, the way that they were constantly missing each other when they tried to call.

The song ends and immediately something happy, upbeat plays through her speakers. She’s having some kind of meltdown on the side of the road, and the world keeps going by. Cars continue to drive by, shaking her bug with their momentum, and the song that’s about one of the worst periods of her life is quickly forgotten and replaced by something about…dancing in a club. It’s literally just about dancing.

She lets out a watery chuckle, the emotion that was lodged in her throat clearing the slightest bit so that she can breathe. Was she not breathing? She might not have been breathing.

Now that she can breathe again, she inhales, sucking her chest in before letting out a gush of air in an attempt to calm herself. In her review mirror she can see that her face is red and splotchy, that her eyes are still watery, and she has to wipe away the snot that’s formed at her nose.

It’s as she’s rubbing her eyes, trying to clear her vision, that all of the sadness starts to twist, transforming into something else entirely. She’s pissed. Absolutely pissed. And she can’t help but think of her earlier thoughts when the song first started playing.

How dare he do this to her.

How dare he write that song and put it on the radio.

Before she knows it, she’s putting her car in drive, looking over her shoulder to make sure the road is clear, before she’s pulling off of the dirt and onto the pavement, speeding down the road in the direction of Killian’s apartment instead of toward hers, driving in the direction of the place where she lived for so long. She knows he’s home, that he’s in town. And she only knows this because David still talks to him, still talks about him, and she overheard David talking to Mary Margaret about Killian being home for the next few weeks and how they’re going to go out for a pint to catch up.

She knows the path to his apartment better than she knows the path to her own, a right here followed by another until it’s a straight shot to the parking garage underneath his building. She still has her sticker, the one that lets her inside. She never could get the damn thing off.

But now it’s useful as she pulls into an empty guest space, hastily getting out of the car and slamming the door shut as she makes her way over to the elevator, hoping that the code hasn’t changed and she can still get inside. It’s only two minutes before she’s standing in front of his door, the momentum and adrenaline propelling her hand forward until she’s banging on the wood so roughly that her hand might actually hurt.

She hurts.

Every bit of anger, of malice, of disappointment that she has is on the tip of her tongue, posed to be spit at him as soon as she sees him, but then the door is swung open and she sees him for the first time in…shit. It’s been five months. It’s been three months since she heard his voice in Target, but it’s been five months since she’s seen him.

And he’s now standing in front of her with his hair damply falling across his forehead, water trailing down the hair of his chest, and the words of his tattoo peeking up over the white towel he has slung across his hip.

Fuck.

She doesn’t have any other words, especially as his fists clench and the muscles in his arms strain while his jaw ticks. He’d look surprised when she first showed up, his lips parting before closing, almost as if he had something he wanted to say. But now he looks angry, a storm raging behind his eyes, and all she can think about is the time that they went to Bermuda for their anniversary and spent the entire week either in bathing suits, a towel, or nothing at all.

“What are you doing here, Swan?”

There’s no anger in his voice though. It’s calm, even, and it’s that fact that gets her back on track. He sounded broken in the song. He’s obviously not broken like she is.

“How dare you write that song,” she spits, trying to keep her voice just as steady, knowing that she’s failing. “You just put our life, my life, out there for everyone to hear.”

“No one knows it’s about you.”

“I do! I know! Our friends know! Everybody goddamn knows! I’m driving down the road on my way home from work, trying to live my life, trying to move on, and I just have everything that I’m trying to forget thrown back in my face like that.”

“Love – ”

“Don’t call me that,” she cries, hating how her voice cracks. She shouldn’t have done this. She shouldn’t have come. She should have never let her emotions drive her, but that’s always what’s she’s done. She’s never been one to be able to hold back when she really feels. “I am not your love. You’ve made that very clear.”“Swan,” he grits, crossing his arms over his heaving chest, “if you want to yell at me, come inside. I have neighbors, and I don’t think we want them witnessing this.”

She huffs, disbelief that he’s actually inviting her inside so that she can continue this emotional breakdown, but her feet still carry her inside, her eyes glancing over the apartment the moment she gets inside. It all looks exactly the same.

She hates that it all looks the same.

Something should have changed.

All of her stuff is gone.

She’s gone.

Something should have changed.

She turns around to look back at Killian, who’s locking the door behind him before running his hands through his damp hair, pushing it back on his forehead, before he’s rubbing his fingers over his scruff. She hates how good he looks almost as much as she hates that that’s what she’s focusing on.

“Why are you here?” he sighs, the indignation he had replaced with acceptance. “The song? You’re mad about the song?”

“Of course I’m mad about the song. How could I not be? Have you heard it?”

“I wrote it. And in case you’ve forgotten, I have dozens of other songs about you, nearly every one of them on a record somewhere. You never seemed pissed about those then.”

“We weren’t broken up then.”“Well whose bloody fault is that? Because it’s not mine. I didn’t want to break up.”

“You think I wanted to break up?” she screams, not caring about staying calm while her entire body heats, her skin feeling overly warm and her head throbbing while her heart pounds. “You think I wanted to be having breakdowns on the side of the road because I can’t handle reliving parts of our relationship. You think I wanted to be the girl who sat at home and cried every time you didn’t pick up the phone? Every time you had to go one minute into our conversation? Every time I went out with my friends and heard your voice on the speakers at a bar when I hadn’t actually heard your voice in days? You think I wanted that?”

She can’t…she can’t breathe again, her heart beating far too quickly in her chest. This isn’t healthy. This isn’t good. She needs…she needs to sit down. So she does, collapsing to the ground and resting her back against his hallway wall while she wraps her arms around her knees and lets herself have another breakdown.

Who the hell needs dignity?

“Emma,” Killian sighs, and that only makes things worse. He never calls her Emma, not unless something is important, and she hates herself for this entire situation. She hates that he is able to still have this power over her, that she still loves him so much that she can’t fathom the fact that she’s not with him.

“Emma,” he repeats, kneeling down next to her, his towel opening as he squats, which really doesn’t help the situation at all. “Are you okay?”

“Do you think I’m okay?”

“No.” His thumb reaches up and wipes away the tears on her cheek. That’s the first time she’s felt his touch in five months too. And it’s also what makes her look up to see that he’s got a tear falling onto his cheek too. “I’m sorry, lo – Swan. I’m sorry that you heard the song and that it hurt you.”

“Why’d you write it then? You had to know that I’d hear it eventually.”

“Because I hurt too. Music is how I deal with things. You know this. You’ve always known this. And how the hell else am I supposed to deal with my heartbreak?”

“By writing the damn song and then not putting it on the radio.”

“I had to fulfill my contract. I had to release a new single.”

“Don’t you have another one? One that’s not about us?”

“No.”

She sighs, leaning her head back against the wall and tightly closing her eyes all while she physically aches. She aches for them to be back to normal, aches for this to not be happening anymore. She should have never come here.

“How long are you home?”

“What?” he stutters, his voice visibly shaken.

She opens her eyes and looks back at him, attempting to even her breaths. “How long are you home this time? How long until you have to leave again?”

“A few weeks. I’ve got to go back and meet with the guys for a couple of days at the end of September.”

She doesn’t know why she does what she does next, but before she can stop herself, before she can think straight, she leans forward and slides her lips over his in a harsh, demanding kiss. Her hands are in his hair in an instant, using the soft strands to tug him closer, and his hands find her face, the warmth and roughness of the pads of his fingers holding her to him as well. It’s like being connected, like being right, after so many months of not feeling like herself, of feeling like something in her life is off kilter.

Like something is wrong.

She doesn’t care that they shouldn’t be doing this. She doesn’t care that she shouldn’t be pushing Killian against the floor, the hardwood uncomfortable under her knees, and she doesn’t care that she’s losing her mind over the way that Killian’s groaning into her mouth and thrusting his hips up against hers, the towel doing nothing to hide his arousal.

And she really doesn’t care when they stumble away from the entrance of his apartment and fall back into his bedroom, quickly and surely moving against each other in the way that they always have. He feels good, fantastic, and she knows she should never be thinking about she and Killian together when they’re very obviously having a relapse, a collapse back into the them they used to be.

So she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let herself not enjoy this, but she can’t speak, she can’t return Killian’s words of ecstasy and affection while he moves inside of her and above her. She simply falls into how good, how right, this feels, and figures that she’ll…she’ll figure it all out later.

It turns out when later comes that she’s still not ready to figure it out. She still doesn’t know what to do. Instead of getting up and leaving when they were finished, she didn’t. She stayed. She’s not sure that she had the strength to leave, that she even wanted to, so now she’s wrapped up in one of Killian’s sweaters while her legs are stuck in between his and his hands are trailing through her hair. She feels his heartbeat under her palm, the slow rise and fall of his chest a rhythm that she knows better than any other.

A rhythm that she knows better than any song he’s ever written.

“Sex doesn’t solve our problems, Swan. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she confesses, snuggling closer to him despite everything. “I don’t…we shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t even still be here. I’m not sure what came over me, over us.”“A hell of a lot of emotions.” She feels his lips against her forehead, the sweat that’s gathered there being pushed away. “We’ve got…there’s a lot left between us, love. There was never anything wrong between us, I don’t think. I just wasn’t there.”

“That’s kind of what went wrong. You can’t be in a relationship without being there.”

“But it’s not us. It was the distance, my job.”

“Which is your dream.”

“Aye, it was my dream,” he confirms softly, running his fingers through her hair and down her back. “It is my dream. But I should have never let it come between us. You’ve been my life for half a decade. You have been there for absolutely everything, and I should have tried harder, should have done more.”

“I don’t think there was anything either of us could have done.”

“I could have made more time to call. I could have scheduled breaks between cities. I could have booked a flight for me, for you. I could have done so much to save us, to make you feel less alone.”

“Killian, this isn’t all on you.”

“No, no, it’s not, but I’ve had five months of living alone, even when I wasn’t here, to think about all of the things I could have changed.”

“Me too,” she sighs, lifting her head from his chest and untangling her legs before she moves to the other side of the bed, putting distance between them all the while Killian rubs his hand up and down his face trying to work out the stress lines. “I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either. Do you even want to try again? Or are we chalking this up to a one-time thing? To a fallback?”

For the first time since she’s shown up here, he sounds as broken as he did during the song. He sounds like she feels, like there’s something missing, something just out of reach. He sounds…he doesn’t sound like Killian. Not the one that she knew. Not the one who woke her up in the mornings with a smile on his face and laughter in his eyes. Not the one who sang while he cooked, often burning the food because he would start writing down the beginnings of a song.

He doesn’t sound like the man who loved her.

The man who she loves.

“I don’t want it to be that,” she answers honestly, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. “But I can’t go back to how we were…what do you want?”

“You.”

A shiver runs down her spine, gooseflesh popping up on her skin.

“That’s all. You just want me?”

“Always, Emma,” he promises, his lips ticking up on the right and the lines around his eyes crinkling while his tongue clicks. “But you’re right. We can’t…I can’t leave like that. I can’t do things just for me without considering you. And you can’t let me just do it and say that things are okay.”

“I kind of figured you knew things weren’t okay.”

“You’ve never lied to me, so I didn’t expect it then. I always believed the words that you said.”

“So what are we doing, Killian? What do we do?”

He shrugs, sitting up against the headboard. “We try again. We make compromises. We do better. For ourselves. For each other. And maybe I don’t put a song out without letting you know.”She smiles, the first genuine smile without heartbreak hidden behind it, for the first time today. Maybe for the first time in months.

“I’d like that.”

It takes more than one day for things to get back to normal. It takes weeks, months really. Killian was a constant part of her life for five years, but after nearly half a year apart, things don’t simply snap back. Trust has to be rebuilt, routines have to become routine again, and she has to learn that things are never going to be perfect and that compromise is a hell of a lot harder than simply saying the word. You actually have to break and bend, give and give up, but it’s worth it if you want to make things work.

She wants to make things work.

Killian does too.

And the next time she hears a song on the radio that’s about her, Killian’s voice isn’t broken. And neither is her heart.

#cs prompts #cs ff #cs fic

[icharchivist]

perso-rant underneath and at first i intended it to be more light hearted but welp cant dive into myself without digging the bad stuff so just ignore this as rambling.

(idk if the cut works on mobile so as usual blacklist #ichapersonal to skip it , its quite long)

its night and im noisy and all but yknow part of the reason m/lb is such a healing show for me and i rewatch it every couple of days?

i cry everytime M.arinette's family is on screen pretty badly bc i get so envious all the time. i hate my shitty family (and often can relate to A.drien's ressentment) so just seeing such a /healthy/ family being often shown litterally brings me to tears. im like C.hat in the animan episode when he stares at the family picture with a sweet smile (another detail that stupidly make me cry who allowed th i s)

like. i dont relate to A.drien's relation to his family but some of the emotional effects is often a moment of "welp. mood." and being kinda sad /for him/ even if i can feel it for myself too. but then with M.arinette's family everytime they get to be on screen i realize how happy this sort of dynamic makes me and it makes me /so envious/.

like my mom is an artist and an excellent cook but she always barred those interests from me bc it was /hers/ and it was for /her ego/ and this attitude just killed every curiosity i had and remplaced it with a complete unability to care.

i used to bake as a kid but my mom was always shutting down everything i was doing, and if i was asking for help or recieps she would just tell le "it's a secret just watch " and never letting me know tf she was doing so i stopped lmao. everytime ive tried meals since it was only for myself and with a hard mocking from family and mom saying she had a better recieps and i should just let her do so i dont even try it often. (moreeven now that the kitchen is opened to the living room and they're super judgemental when im in it)

i was messing with drawings and paints in her workshop when i was a kid but she would always point out flaws and take my tools to correct it without telling nor showing me how and it killed it, it took me until my 14yo to start doing mindless doodles and then my breakdown when i was about 20 to seriously try back to draw and do art and try different tools (until my right hand made it impossible for me to hold a tool and the failure still feels yknow)

i wanted to sew things and make clothes (at the time for my dolls) but my mom was never letting me touch the tools (that we HAD since not only she made clothes but her mom actually had a fabrique shop. like. right next door. i think it became part of my mom's trauma hating her mom and refusing us to connect with her, more so with what happened when i was 7 and we lost contact with them but still, the damn irony. and i cant remember if my grandma ever let me close her sewing material but i was a damn kid after all) so this is another thing i didnt pursue

i wanted to pick up music (piano mostly) bc my uncle is a musician but my parents never wanted to invest in that because they already gave a piano to my sister (that i wasnt allowed to use) so ye that was dropped lmao

and i started to write when i was about 11 and it was that /one thing/ i didnt need help for from anyone, completely self taught, with my own ways and tools, and my parents were always dismissive of it, never listening to me, always telling me it wasnt important, that i should focus on something else, and after other circumstances that added to that i dropped writting around my 17/18yo and it had been painful to even try to write again since.(i came back to writing around my 20yo a bit before my breakdown but after it happened it started to die out and i felt exhausted and stopped after a few months and since then i've never been able to pick up writing again ay.)

(and im not touching the obsessive elements bc like- the fact she does it for her crush makes it different, but the sort of things she does? taking pictures and putting them everywhere in her room when she hyperfixates, making overcomplicated schedules and such? i litteraly do that with fiction. i made a freaking timeline for this show. i am currently working on organizing codex from d.a and an approval guide for christ sake. and im not talking about my multiple fandom shrines in my room and the fact i legit have one for m/lb made from pictures found on merchs.

or also the fact i have a lot of passions i'd love to share and seeing M. play video games with her dad for exemple makes me so bitter when all i get is backhanded insults from my parents when i bring it up.)

So sometimes i see M. and part of me is just in awe, loving everything about her. the other part of me tho... i feel... a bit robbed? like she's such a creative kid, she's incredible and she inspires me everyday, and i cant help but think how i would have adored her when i was a kid. (im not even kidding, as a kid i requested my mom a costume of black cat for h.alloween and a l.adybug costume for the carnaval. i have pictures of that at my dad's place sadly it kills me. also my room when i was a kid used to be covered with l.adybug stickers like. HELL my mom doesnt care about my interests but last year she bought me a M/LB winter callendar (bc its been years i was mentioning i wanted one, a selfish whim but oh well) and i had a huge double take bc i was certain she didnt remember me talking about this show- and she did not. when i asked her why, she legit told me "because she reminded me of you as a kid with your pigtails your obsession for l.adybugs". like!! i cant even stress how kid!me would have adored this show and especially LB./M.) (the pigtails too this time i have proofs around there i used to carry them all the time until i was bullied for it at school. (bullying at school instead of good friends also adds to the difference in question tbh lmao))

there is something so... weird into seeing the parts of yourself that you cut yourself from in a character, and see that the main difference is because of how the family (and bullies) treated those elements so drastically differently.

my family was always neglectful but differently than A.. the things i relate to with him is how he specifically still holds on hope that his father will do better at least just for one day and his reaction when he's left down saying he's just used to it. and like normal, not every kind of abuse are the same and all but i still relate enough to feel sad.

but M. is always a whiplash of feelings like i could have been this sort of girl in a better environment.

at 13/14yo she was already making stuff up, baking, designing clothes, doing art, she was doing so many things, even forgetting the superhero part. she was being happy being a creator at her pace and with encouragement. at 13/14yo i was starting to show concerning signs of d.epression because i was trying to handle my parents's divorces and the multiple trials that followed that /i/ had to handle by finding middle grounds, allowing some of my father's blackmail to avoid worse, and by litterally having to collect infos from mails everytime to prove against some of his arguments to the judges. and my sister refusing to talk to us for a year, which caused us basically to feel very bad thinking of the eldest sister who ran away from home, and having to handle my father's harrasment and emotional abuse of constantly belittling me (fuck this was the age he legit told me i would probably end up a p.rostitute so ye!!! fuck that!!!) andd the fact my mom was also falling apart from all of it on me and i was always supposed to cheer her up while i was having a hard time in a new school and new environment away from the very few friends i had and again feeling abandonned by my sister which freaking sucks after already had suffered that from our eldest one.

but M. makes me cry every. goddam. rewatch. its like maybe the ultimate wish fufilling story of just how i would have loved my family to be. of how i think i could have turned up.

and that realization hits so badly everytime.

there's a thing with my hyperfixations where i'll always find a way to tie it back to my traumas. i dont know if im pulling straws, or if the things are there. for having watched m.lb when it came out unfazed and only got hit with that realization upon rewatching- i feel it was more me realizing "there is something there that is touching me more than before" and having an introspection to get it.

and i think the difference is that- before my breakdown the characters and stories i related to where the eternal optimistic-yet-damaged "never give up!" type of characters. When things started to go downhill to my breakdown and since then the fictions that talked to me the most were all dealing with guilt coming from toxic environment that werent your fault per se but you pierceved that way. my way to relate were to characters who felt deeply connected to their guilt (peak being c.loud of f.f7 that even topped it with the deadly skin disease making him lose will to live (because ye that happened. still hate to watch out for that so ye), and memories issues, you would have told me at 13yo when i first watched that movie that this would be what i would relate to him about 7 years later i would have laughed at your face.), which translated with pushing people away and self destructing habits.

and i know i watched m.lb the first time around that time, when i was 20/21. and that may be why i didnt feel that. that my concerns were too elsewhere to realize that. That i was too focalized on how i felt like i failed by suddenly breaking under the pressure, having all the things i've kept burried kicking me out at once, and that i couldnt afford to be a burden to anyone. and it translated with me loving characters like that because in most cases their friends ended up reminding them of what was important - and sometimes just getting frustrated about your fav being as dumb as it forces you to pull yourself back together lmao. not always working but it was there.

now im 23. i cut ties with my father for about 3/4 years now, with all the shitty things that ensued out of the last trial where he sued me and his still-happening harrasment (sometimes silly sometimes scary). My mom and step dad are suffocating me more and more everyday. my health had become so disastrous i cant even manage to go school or find a job. And more than ever im frustrated and angry.

and i think it may be a shown of recovery? perhaps linked to therapy? of while i still have guilt of falling apart- /they/ are the reason i fell apart. and I'm yet to have proper apologizes for it. i grew furious at my family. of how much i feel robbed.

lately im so angry at everything i lost, was taken of, stolen childhood all of that- because of my parents, mainly. (hell even the bullying at school - in primary school it apparently started bc of gossips about why my eldest sister ran away from home, and in middle school it was first bc my parents insisted on sending me to private school where i was an outcast. which then had me truly embrassing the outcast persona that had made it impossible for me to be at peace in the two others middle schools i went to. highschool saved my social life tbh).

i think it's therapy and recovery that is making me shift the blame and feel so angry at them. so bitter. and suddenly i see in an innocent kid show a "what could have been". same starting personality, different people to channel this.

and this is. frustrating.

but it makes me love it even more. idk if its driving anything else than ressentment but at least for the time of an episode I'm in a bubble of a.lternative universe where i can forget about my life and feel satisfied at once.

like finding a piece of myself that i deliberately broke and burried to never think about it again, and realize far later how it missed to the whole, and how damaged this piece is now, but still is.

and there is something incredibly healing about that. i would never have thought there would be this much healing out of this anger and yet satisfaction. what a strange feeling.

fiction is funny that way. the things people can get out of it to deal with their own psyche are so different one person to the next.

it's just so weird for me to go from "i relate to the horrors this character went through" to "and fuck those horrors. let me think about what could have been if this didnt happen."

even moreso knowing i had this piece of fiction before and didnt approach it that way. there's a time and a mindset for everything. apparently now was the best mindset for me huh

.......

so ye apparently i cant like something like a normal person and have to go on about how it connects to my deeply rooted traumas lmao.

anyway it's been eating me up for weeks now and it's 4:45am i have absolutly no impulse holding me back. if you sat through this piece of work im sorry. just needed it to get it out of my chest.

i'll go back to hugging my cheap-yet-lifesaving c.laire's l.adybug pillow now

good night o/

#ichapersonal

[harryseyebrows]

That picture of harry and Jeffrey what is the vibe it’s giving off dbsjejkejshsks I can’t figure it out I wanna know ur take liz

oh i have some Thoughts™

1. COLLEGE AU COLLEGE AU COLLEGE AU. like, american college. they’re both seniors (jeff took some time off/a gap year when he was younger that ended up being gap yearS, plural, so he’s a bit older but he’s back in school now and he couldn’t resist the charm of harry styles who, upon finding out that jeff is closer to 30 than 20, proceeded to act like a hat in heat at a party one night). jeff is a business major with a minor in economics, and of course, harry is a music major with a concentration in singing. it’s harry’s last performance of the year and the whole department is doing a big ensemble show, but harry has a fair amount of solos and has some KILLER songs and covers lined up, including but not limited to his own rendition of ‘hit me baby one more time’, a classic take on ‘mack the knife’ and an original song, ‘sweet creature’ in which he plays guitar and is backed up by his fellow music major buddy mitch on a twelve string, and it makes his mom and sister CRY in the audience. the picture is taken backstage before the show and harry is so excited that he doesnt even really have time to be nervous, but as you can see by jeff’s face, he’s nervous enough for the both of them, not because he doesnt have faith in harry, but because he’s been there for every singe one of harry’s performances since sophomore year and it never gets any easier, watching him on stage, knowing that he’s gonna be amazing but being irrationally worried anyway. they go out to eat after the show, some cheap place that does wings and pizza, and after harry says goodbye to his family, he rides home in jeff’s car with him, and they retire to his moderately sized apartment that harry is more familiar with than his own dorm room.

2. a little closer to reality but it is also saying ‘popstar harry with his quiet boyfriend from back home’ to me. they’re from some middle of nowhere rural as fuck town, and harry signed up for the talent competition just for fun and he ended up being scouted and picked up a la justin bieber style. except he acts nothing like justin bieber because he’s a good boy who was raised mostly by his mother and sister, and while some people say that the cutesy innocent act is all some big facade, its pretty true..... except for some minor details, like harry getting grounded for being caught with a girl AND a boy in his bed when he thought his parents werent home.... and being caught straddling jeff on the basement couch on his 20th birthday..... minor details. anyway, the past 8 or so years have been bizarre for everyone -- it went from harry being at home and looking into colleges a few counties over, to him suddenly being this public figure, making more money than he knew what to do with, and a new responsibility to be somewhat of a role model. and it all happened so quick that it gave him and the people in his life whiplash. there were times where he thought it was gonna be too much -- the longest amount of time he’d ever been away from home was a little over a week, when he’d go on trips with his friends families, or for something to do with school. but then he found himself away from his mom and sister, his own bed, his friends, and jeff. and they’d visit him when he was doing recording or press or even his very first shows, but it never felt like long enough when they did. and that felt selfish, because he certainly didnt expect them to drop their lives for him. it isnt until harry is 21 and really thinking about calling it quits that he gets one of the biggest surprises of his life; jeff never went to college, was always going to inherit his dads tire company, but in secret, he started taking online classes, for business and management, and he gets his degree, surprises harry on tour and hands him an envelope with his official diploma in it. harry is confused, very obviously proud of jeff for doing it, but not sure what its supposed to Mean. until jeff explains that he wants to help, that he did it so that he could be an active participant in harrys career. harry had offered before, to give jeff some type of title so that jeff could go with him, but jeff never wanted something like that handed to him. so he earned it. and he gets to join harrys management team. of course it doesnt stop people from talking, saying all sorts of things about how jeff only got it because him and harry are fucking, which they are, but what no one knows is that jeff is serious about things, has a ring that he keeps in his underwear drawer and everything (now in one of his suitcases pockets, just in case). ANYWAY, that picture is from after an awards show, which jeff absolutely Did Not walk the red carpet with harry for, because since harry’s been famous, there are exactly 6 pictures of them together that the press has gotten a hold of. but this one makes 7, and they arent even mad. popstar harry styles and his boyfriend from home who’s trying his best to mix rural and urban chic but not quite managing. he’s cute tho so its okay

#im EXHAUSTED #Anonymous

[thoughtsofadaydreamer]

Cleaning house

(Punisher fan fiction)

Little Italy, NY. Circa 1977. New York. Americas Mafia homeland. Originating in the late 19th century long before any of us in this era even knew how to say the word “Mafia”. Growing fearsome and powerful in the 20s and 30s. Prohibition era was a goldmine for the Mafiosos. And into the 40s, 50s, 60s. Reaching their peak in the 70s. No one, not even the president could stop the Mafia in this time. At least that is until a tragic sunny day happened in the summer of ‘75. “They should have put another bullet in my skull.” Castle thinks to himself. Sitting patiently inside of his black van. He stares off into the distance towards the front of a convenience store. “Tricanni’s” the building reads. Frank Castle was the victim of an attempted murder on his life. Still alive to remember the day, he truly died when his wife and 2 kids werent so lucky. Slain by the mob on what was meant to be a picnic day at the park. After discovering a mob hit, the Castle family were to be killed for the witnessing. When Frank arose from death, with no help from the crooked police department, he began a one man war against the cities underworld. After 2 years, Frank is digging deeper and deeper into the mob. Chipping away for the past 2 years to get to the higher ups.

Dominic Tricanni was a Caporegime (captain) for the Gnucci (pro. NEW-CHEE) crime family. The same organization responsible for the death of Franks family. Tricanni being his last lead on the whereabouts of Ma Gnucci after she went into hiding. Ma Gnucci was the wife of Don Vittorio Gnucci. When the Don died, his widow decided to take his place of power. Something never before seen until her time. Ruling the crime family with her hand practically on everyones balls. A real mean old bitch as many of her own associates consider her. Castle originally planned on attacking each of the capo’s crews to break down the family section by section. But when Ma Gnucci decided to lay low, Castles only way of finding out her location is through the last captain still breathing. This is where Tricanni comes in. Frank waits outside for another 10 minutes. Only looking away for a millisecond to check his watch every now and again. Once the lights go out in the building, Frank gears up. He throws his leather trenchcoat over his white skull kevlar and makes his way across the street.

Tricanni’s was a typical NYC business building. Store on the bottom, apartments on top. He knew thats where the mob run establishment counted profits through the fronts. The place where you buy a loaf of bread, some milk, maybe some snacks, smokes, beer, and a package of God knows what if you ask for the right people. Understand? However much money was made through the packages, was moved upstairs. So the building had to have wiseguys with guns throughout the building. Frank taps on the glass of the door, holding his head down as the man behind the counter peeks out. Castle sticks up his middle finger yelling the words “Fuck you, you fucking guinea pricks!” The man dashes out through the door “I TOLD YOU LITTLE BASTARDS TO STOP COMI-“ the man stops and looks around an empty street. Feeling alone. Until 2 man hands grip under his chin and on top of his cranium. Twisting with a loud violent crunch. He drops dead weight into Castles arms, dragging him into the store. Dumping him off behind the counter. Castle searches his body and discovers a Colt. 1911. Checking the chamber for a round. “Full clip” he mutters to himself. Holstering the weapon down the front of his belt. His boots silently stepping through the door to the stairway. He listens. “HAHAHAHA!!!” Laughter coming from upstairs. He follows the sound of humorous covervastion until he spots 2 more waiting around the next corner. “Ay, so how was that slut you took home last night?” One asks the other. Castle eases up the stairs hugging the wall close with his back, listening. “Yo i think you were right about’er....been itchin’ all day. Fuck!” The 2 men laugh hysterically, castles lip snarls at the sound of the 2 mobsters. He listens for footsteps. Trying to pinpoint how they move.

Planning his next move, he unholsters one of his own pistols. An all black enhanced 1911 .45. Loaded with armor piercing rounds. He begins to twist a silencer on the handgun as one of the pair speaks, “you hear about Freddy?” Then the other, “All i know is hes dead, why?” The conversation continues. “I mean how he died. Cops and news reporters saying its the punisher. I believe ‘em.” Castle almost smiles as he peeks around the corner ever so slightly. “Ahhh fuck Castle. If i see ‘em ill have ‘em carrying his heart in a fuckin’ doggy bag.” Castle makes his move while their guards are down. “Nows your chance.” He mutters to them, standing below the staircase. Before the men could draw their weapons Castle unloads 2 rounds into their heads. The bodies drop with the shell casings. The wall behind them painted with blood and brain. “Whoops, too slow.” He jokes as he steps past the bodies. Meanwhile on the 3rd floor, Dominic Tricanni discusses bullshit talk while he counts his earnings. “So far its 15 G’s Dom.” One of his associates speaks up. “Not bad, not bad at all.” Tricanni replies. His face a little aged. Like an old war veteran who was the grease monkey cook of the platoon but could fight. Which he could. Tricanni used to be an amateur boxer on the streets of Jersey. Eventually being hired by Don Vittorio Gnucci himself as a source of income. Over time he became a small time enforcer on the side before choosing to work full time for the mob. Rising through the ranks and being granted his own crew in NY. A foul mouthed, tough Italiano with a love for money and a good fight. “This stays between us. Ma wants 10% of every take. Well we gonna give her what she THINKS is 10%. Tell her maybe business was slow this week. Not alot of customers. Capiche?” The others nod and reply, “Capiche”. Flicking cigarettes and downing scotch. “That bitch gets on my nerves.” Tricanni states. One cracks a joke, “Maybe shes a bitch because ever since Vito died, she hasnt been getting...properly pampered? If you know what i mean?” They chuckle as another pokes fun, “yeah Dom why dont you dust her off and take her for a spin y’know? Take one for the team huh?” Dominic laughs then responds, “I wouldnt fuck her with YOUR little pee shooter Ralphy.” They laugh, oblivious to the trouble approaching. Outside the room, Castle covers the mouth of another mobster. As his knife calmly slices across the adams apple of the man. The sound of muffled choking and blood curdling fills the vigilantes ears. Watching the door in case he is too audible. More laughter is heard as Frank drops the body. Snagging a sawed off shotgun from the dead mans grip. He holsters the shotgun to unscrew the silencer from his pistol. “Gonna have to get loud.” He thinks to himself. He currently wields both weapons, standing in front of the apartment door. He knocks on the door, waiting to hear the footsteps get closer. He hears whistling from behind the door signaling a cue for his next move. “BOOM!”

The mobster goes stumbling back, leaving a large hole in the door from the sawed off. “WHAT THE FU-! [BOOM!]” the last round from the shotgun bursts through the door. Enough to send the gangsters back falling to the floor. Castle spartan kicks the door with his large heavy combat boots. Breaking it off the hinges. Dropping the sawed off and equipping his secondary pistol. “BAM! BAM!” Headshots. 2 mobsters rise from behind the table, greeted with .45 caliber rounds to the cranium. Tricanni, still down, is painted with his mens blood. From the kitchen another spawns “HEY!!! ITS CASTLE!!!” Castle twists his head to the left. Just as the gangster pulls the trigger on his Micro smg. Machine gun fire sprays the room as Frank jump into the bedroom. Landing on his side. Bullet holes spawn as the mobster continues to unload his clip. Sending glass and drywall pieces all over the bedroom. Castle sends a few rounds through the wall in return. He notices a change in the scenario. The shots change place, now being shot from the right instead of the left. Frank follows up with gunfire of his own. Popping off the rest of the clip into the wall as a distraction before “BAM!” He lets off one last round just as the mobster was changing positions. Killing him. Tricanni sees this and attempts to run. “BAM! BAM!” Castle puts 2 in Tricannis leg. The Mob captain screams in agonizing pain as he attempts to crawl. But Frank beats him to it. And grabs him by his foot. Dragging him to the kitchen.

Tricanni sits handcuffed in a dining room chair. Dripping blood from his leg wounds. “What do you want with me Castle?” Frank stares him down, silent. Pulling up a chair seating himself directly in front of Dominic. “You want to know where Ma is!? Is that it? Well fuck you! I hate that old cunt just as much as you but ill be damned if i cooperate with you!” Frank doesnt break his cold stare. Keeping eye contact. Suddenly Tricanni feels a jolt of excruciating pain sent up his thigh and all over his leg. Frank has stuck his finger inside his bullet wound. “I think we need to try that again.” His voice gruff and dark. Like death itself if it could talk. Tricanni grits his teeth, holding back any screams as best as he can. Frank hooks his finger making Tricanni tear up and jolt around. “Where...is...Ma...Gnucci?” Tricanni breathes heavy but doesnt scream or give in. “I admire your pain tolerance. I wont take away your strength, ill give you that. But Tricanni either you give me an address or i plant a third one in your leg and play bowling. Now tell me....” he cocks his pistol and aims below the 2 bullet wounds. Suddenly, his home phone rings. Frank looks at Tricanni and stands. “No running off.” He walks over and picks up the phone as a woman speaks. Tricanni watches as Castle writes down on a napkin. He hangs up after a few minutes and washes his hands of blood. Tricanni pants as he speaks up “s-so what now?” Castle stops and looks down at Dominic “Now?” He raises his arm “(click) BAM!” Tricanni’s brains coat over the kitchen counter. “You give the devil my regards.”

As Castle walks back down into the convenience store the phone behind the counter rings. Frank ponders but then decides to answer. “Is this Tricanni’s?” Frank almost chuckles “It was...” he thinks to himself. “Yes” he answers. The man on the phone continues on. “Tell him ill be back by to pick up my package i ordered. Is tomorrow a good time?” Frank looks outside for any company. “Not a good idea. Tricanni’s is kind of going out of business after tonight and will be discontinuing any service to the public. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He hangs up and walks out into the New York streets back to his van. Checking the napkin he wrote on. “Rochester-3:00 p.m.-brick house few blocks from hospital. Tuesday.” He folds it up and starts the van. “Nothing like a little spring cleaning to make you feel like a new man.” He smirks to himself as he drives through the dark lonely streets.

#the punisher #marvel fandom #marvel fanfic series #punisher fan fiction #fanfic #frank castle

[cowplantseed]

BROADWAY LEGACY CHALLENGE:

this challenge is a lot of storytelling, and if that isnt your thing, im sorry. i apologize. if one generation isnt your favorite, im sorry. ill try to make this as fun as possible but let me tell you, writing challenges is difficult as heck. another note is that some of these are super duper watered down versions of these musicals, some missing characters and plot points. you can always add these in your storytelling. i didnt add them either because i couldnt with the current features in game or because i thought it would make things too complicated. you can always add whats missing in your own gameplay. GEN1: HAMILTON every story has to have a beginning. your sim, the new kid in town, is determined to make a mark and start a legacy in their godforsaken world. there just happens to be a few hitches. (your sim represents alexander hamilton.) - your founder sim may look like anything and be any gender. they must have the hot-headed trait, and the ambitious trait, but the final one can be anything of your choosing and the lifetime wish can be anything you want as well. - they must be a brand new sim with no prior familial ties. - they must start out with 100 simoleons and live in an empty 50x50 lot. - you may purchase the lot and then reduce funds down to 100 with any money cheats needed, use freerealestate, etc. - for storytelling purposes, i would suggest they live in oasis springs but their location is entirely up to you and they can always move when they get enough money. - you may use your 100 simoleons to get the basics. - they must reach level 10 in the writing skill. - they must reach level 10 in the charisma skill. - they must reach level 10 in the business career of either branch. - they must make a nemesis. - they must marry someone with more simoleons than they do. - they must have at least one child together; you may adopt, but your adopted child cannot be the heir. - they may have as many children as youd like. - your last biological child will be the one to carry on the legacy as the heir. if anything happens to them, the child born before them will be the spare. in the case of twins or triplets, you may choose one to be the heir and the other to be the spare. - once you are done your babymaking, your founder must cheat on their spouse successfully for at least three sim days. - the founder must confess to cheating and then apologize. the spouse must forgive them. - when your founder completes their career and skills, they must get into a fight with their enemy and get killed. mods are permitted for this demise if you desire. - optionally, you may also kill off one of your children in the same manner, but it is not required. GEN2: NEWSIES your sims upbringing was rough for one reason or another. out of spite, they get a job selling newspapers or books with a group of their friends. that doesnt end well, though, when they get a pay cut and their friend gets taken into a refuge. (your sim represents jack Kelly) - when your sim becomes a young adult, they must move to a not so great lot with six other young adult friends and a child friend of the same sex, someones sibling. these will be their fellow newsies. - your sim must have the self assured trait. - they must all join the writer career. they may not try for any promotions, but whatever happens happens. - your sim must meet and flirt with another sim with more simoleons than them and begin a relationship. - one of the newsies (any except for the siblings) must move out of the lot and cease contact with any of the newsies for five sim days. - during this time, the other newsies must quit their jobs as writers. - when the five days are up, move your missing newsy back in and the newsies may take their jobs back. - your sim must marry their romantic interest and move out of the newsies home. - they may have as many children as youd like. - your last biological child will be the one to carry on the legacy as the heir. if anything happens to them, the child born before them will be the spare. in the case of twins or triplets, you may choose one to be the heir and the other to be the spare. GEN 3: BARE: A POP OPERA school is wild. your sim and their friends are growing up and discovering sexuality in all the wrong ways. but hey, what could go wrong? (your sim represents peter simmonds.) - your sim must have the jealous and music lover traits. - they must have and complete the musical genius aspiration. - they must be in a relationship with a sim of the same sex. - you must move the partner into your sim's household. - the partner must have a child with another sim whilst cheating on your sim and keep the baby for themself. - your sim and their partner must become enemies. - after some time (as long as you choose for storytelling but its suggested a few sim days) they make up and continue being romantically involved with each other. - they may not have or adopt children together. - the childs other parent must move into the house despite having no romantic involvement with the main couple. - they both must die when they become adults. mods are permitted if youd prefer. - the other parent must continue raising the child through young adulthood. - this child will be the heir; their other parent may have no children after it. GEN 4: HEATHERS: THE MUSICAL your sim thought their parents lives were crazy? they were wrong. well, they were right, but they also werent prepared for the insanity that is their high school career (your sim represents veronica sawyer.) - your sim must have the self-assured trait. - your sim must reach level 10 of the writing skill. - they must start dating someone when they become teenagers, and they must use the mess around option at least once as teens (or actually woohoo if you have the mc woohooer mod). - these sims must stay together until they're young adults, unless you have a teen pregnancy mod. - your sim must make three friends and kill them. - your sim must get pregnant, and while they're pregnant, their partner must somehow die. - if your sim cannot get pregnant, they must get their partner pregnant and after the baby is born, the partner will die. - your sim must not get remarried. - this child will be the heir; they may have no children after it. GEN 5: DEAR EVAN HANSEN the human mind can really be a jerk sometimes. it can tear apart relationships, create sticky situations, and even kill. your sim gets to learn that the hard way. (your sim represents evan hansen.) - your sim must not have any friends outside of their family until they're a young adult. - they must be best friends with their parent. - they must have the loner and outdoor enthusiast traits. their aspiration must be freelance botanist, and the final trait can be any of your choosing. - when they become a young adult, they must make a friend. - this friend must die and your sim must start dating the friends sibling, roommate, etc. - your sim must get to level five in the charisma skill after the death of their friend. - your sim must impregnate/be impregnated by their partner. - your sim must fall out with their partner and their mother, reducing both to the enemies stage. - your sim must regain relationship with their mother, bringing them back up to friends. - optionally, your sim may regain relationship with their partner, but it must be just up to acquaintances, or a low friendship. - their child will be the next heir; they may have no children after it. GEN 6: LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS your sims boring florist job gets a little more hectic when expected when they accidentally discover a plant that eats other sims to survive! (your sim represents seymour.) - your sim must have the geek trait. - your sim must move away from their family once they age up into a young adult. - your sim must move in with an adult and another young adult; the adult will be their boss and the young adult will be their love interest. - your sim must reach level ten of the gardening skill. - your sim must get a cow plant and raise it. - if your cow plant dies, your sim must find another. - when your cow plant is an adult, they should be fed sims, starting with the boss. - amount of sims it must eat is optional but its suggested it eats at least three sims. - the cow plant may not eat your sims love interest. - in the end, your sim must kill their cow plant, marry their love interest and have four children. - this one is different. their second child must be the heir. - you must keep the cow plant bones on your lot for the remainder of the legacy*. if you move house, you should remember to place it in the family inventory beforehand. *or however long cow plant bones last, i really have no idea if they just disappear eventually or something. GEN 7: LITTLE WOMEN your sim is a strong, brave person and will not let anything get in their way on their journey to be an amazing author. too bad romance and illness exist. (your sim represents jo march.) - the oldest child must have the romantic trait. - your sim (the second oldest child) must have the bestselling author aspiration and bro trait. the others can be anything you‘d like. - the third child must have the good trait. - the fourth child must have the snob trait. - your sim must be best friends with their younger sibling. - they must have one other best friend outside of their family. - they must reach level ten of the writing skill and complete their aspiration. - later, they must make one more best friend, who, a few days later tries to romance your sim but your sim must respond angrily. - your sims first best friend must flirt with them, to which they remain romantic interests for a few days. - the third sibling must die of illness. you may use any mods necessary to do this, or simply starve them. - the second best friend may marry the youngest sibling. - at their wedding, your sim must be proposed to their romantic interest. - together, these two will not have any children. - their sibling must have a child. their spouse, sibling, and siblings spouse must all die. the child will be in your sims custody. GEN 8: THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME your sims life begins sheltered and a bit nice, despite their wish to be free. after a night out, though, they meet someone with whom they become fast friends. but when overprotective aunt/uncle finds out and death sneaks up, their life doesnt turn out so cozy after all. (your sim represents quasimodo.) ps i know this hasnt been on broadway but i love this musical and wanted to include it shh - your sim must be ugly. if you have to mess with them in create a sim, do it. - they must have the good trait. their other traits and aspiration may be anything. - they must never leave the house as a child or teenager, preferably locked inside. you can lock doors so they cant go to school or you can get a mod. - when they age into a young adult, they must leave and meet a beautiful sim. this is the only time they leaves the house. - this sim must become their best friend. - the best friend may only be invited over at night or when your sims caretaker isnt home. if they visit autonomously, it is allowed to use cheats or mods to force them to leave; i recommend mc command center. - optionally, you can add a love interest for this sim to stay faithful to the original. - eventually, the caretaker must catch on to your sims best friend. they must lock the friend (and optional love interest) up. - eventually, the caretaker must kill this sim before your sims eyes. - your sim must kill their caretaker out of rage. - your sim must stay single for the rest of their life. they must adopt one child. this child will be the heir. GEN 9: THE SOUND OF MUSIC the love of your sims life is dead, leaving them with six children and a bitterness against music. with their busy schedule, they need a nanny. they never expected to wind up with a new spouse. (your sim represents baron vontrapp) - your sim must marry another sim and together have six children (i know the vontrapps had seven but without mods you cant have more than eight sims in a household). - the spouse must have the music lover trait. - later, the spouse must die. - your sim must hire a nanny. - if its easier, you may add the nanny to your household. - your sim and the nanny must dislike each other, but the children must have good relationships with them. - your sim may not interact with their children often, leaving that to the nanny. - the nanny must have the music lover trait, which you can modify if they do not have it. they also must have any of the music skills. - when your children befriend the nanny, they must acquire a music skill as well. - eventually, your sim must become romantically involved with the nanny. - to show ~character development~, you can change one of their traits to music lover. - they may not have any children, but the youngest child of your sims previous marriage will be the heir. GEN 10: LES MISERABLES your sim is basically personified sunshine. and hey, minus the sims literally dying at their feet, they have a pretty happy life. (your sim represents cosette.) - your sim must have the good and music lover traits. - they must have and complete the big happy family lifetime wish. - as a child/teenager (whichever age they are when you finish generation nine), they must be moved away from their family into a house with one adoptive parent. - they must not leave the house (except for school) until they are a young adult. - when they age up, they must go into town and marry the first sim they interact with of the opposing sex. - they may not have a career. - their spouse must be in the secret agent career in the diamond agent branch. if you have city living, they may be a politician. if you have a mod that adds a military career (ive seen one before but sadly do not have the link), you may use that. - together, they may have as many children as you want. - once your sim dies, the legacy challenge is complete.

#the sims 4 #the sims #legacy challenge #ts4 #s4 legacy #hope you like it it took me like two months #bway legacy ch #mine

[swampgallows]

i need help. i cant do anything. even in europe all i did was trail behind. i didnt book anything or research anything. i just followed along. everybody else planned everything and i just followed behind.

i dont know what will happen to me without coverage. i need to make calls but i dont know what will happen. i really need help and i really want to be able to do things without my parents. there is so much my parents dont know and that i dont feel safe telling them. there is so much i dont trust my parents with but they control everything. they dont even know i quit my job because i was going to kill myself. ir eally want to get help. and i really need to get help. and i feel like the only way i can truly do it is if im entirely removed from this environment for an extended period of time. i thought europe would be the thing to help me enough but during the last few days when i realized i was going to have to come back here i started panicking and getting sick. and since i got home my body has been rejecting even the most mild of foods (oatmeal, applesauce, eggs and toast) and i cant sleep for more than a few hours at a time, at random. and i cant focus on anything again, and i only managed to draw something for a little bit when my mom was at the hospital again. 

i hate that i cant do anything alone but i feel like when im by myself i’ll disappear. but even when im with people i fall out of existence and stop being a person. i cant be here. im struggling to be here any more as a person. 

i had canceled my wow subscription (i guess?) so it wouldnt charge me while i wasnt playing and i havent started it back up again yet. i opened hots but i didnt play it. i cant even play video games. 

i really need help. i really need to get somewhere where i can be away from this environment and get help or im just going to sit in my bed until i die. im dissociated more than im grounded  nowadays, even on the trip. if eel like unless im in a super safe and time-constrained situation (like a rave or at a restaurant?? or something) i cant be a human being. like i have to have a scripted event and i cant exist outside of it. i dont know what to do with myself unless im being perceived or something like that. 

i hate writing about this stuff on tumblr but it’s making me lose my mind if i dont get it out somehow. it’s just spinning in my head and all i can do is sit here. it’s 4 in the morning and i thought about cleaning my room to do something productive while not having to be a person, per se, but it’s 4am and it would be too loud. i thought about getting in my car and driving around a little while the streets are super empty but my mom is awake and sitting by the door.

im so fucking sick of my parents knowing about every single thing i do. i cant be a person independent of them if i cant do or say anything without them knowing. and even if i put up my middle finger and say like FUCK YOU IM DOING THIS like my sister does it doesnt matter, in the end they still control everything and they still KNOW. i still have to come back to their house to go to bed, and even if im gone for days they know im gone. my sister is looking into renting a place with her shitty chaotic boyfriend (even though she swore up and down that she would NEVER move in with him) just so she doesnt have to fucking live here. AND SHE’S 29 AND I’M 27 WE SHOULDNT HAVE TO STILL LIVE WITH OUR PARENTS BUT NO ONE IN MY GENERATION CAN AFFORD TO MOVE OUT WITHOUT LIVING WITH 9 STRANGERS FOR 800 A MONTH EACH, AND THOSE NUMBERS ARE NOT EXAGGERATED

it was such a relief when i was in europe to just not check in with them at all or have to tell them anything. not even ‘hey i’m here safe!’ fuck you. i barely even posted on facebook about it except for checking in to places on swarm, and not to tell them, but just to do it, because it’s what i’d do anyway. “thanks for the update” my sister wrote, like i was supposed to tell them sooner. it’s none of their fucking business. they are not part of the equation at all. i bought the plane ticket, i paid for my share of the hotel and hostel and apartment, AND i was planning to drive myself to nate’s house until my mother fucking berated me about it and dropped me off instead (they were using my car that week anyway). 

my sister is on a career path and so is my brother and im not. i havent tried learning coding again in a while. i really do not have anything to live for, im not in love with anybody and i have no dreams and i dont even want to get married really and i DEFINITELY do not want children, i still feel like a child, i feel too helpless and stupid to do anything, my art is WAY below the professional level and i couldnt even fulfill all the commissions i took, i barely even draw for myself. i dont do anythign for myself. i cant even take care of myself. im full of self-destructive impulses maybe because i feel like if it gets bad enough my parents will give a shit about me, or something, but they dont, or they cant, theyre incapable. i think about all the healing i have to do and all the trauma ive been through and how my mother takes even that away from me, using it to further her own self-flagellation about what a bad mother she is. even if i killed myself, my suicide would matter to her more as a means to further punish herself than as a loss of my life. and i know this because when i was hit by the car and didnt have the self-preservation to call for help or do anything, all she did was scream at me at the top of her lungs and then complain about what a bad mother she was that she apparently never taught us to call our parents.

i had to throw up when we were driving back to lax to drop cookies off and i thought i could make it. i puked all over myself, bad, in nate’s car, and he said, “you need to just tell me if you have to and i’ll pull over.” and i legitimately didnt even think of that. i am so accustomed to just suffering in silence and then getting punished afterward that i didnt do a solid for myself or for my friends by just giving a heads up about what was happening to me. i just let it happen and dealt with the consequences. and that thought really unnerved me. why didnt i say something? did i really think he would get mad at me for asking, for having the audacity to get sick? was i embarrassed??? well i was sure as fuck embarrassed for puking all over myself like a fucking infant, so why didnt i just say something? like who the fuck does that? i just sat there fighting it, thinking it would go away, instead of saying like “dude, can we pull over? i think im gonna throw up.” maybe i didnt want to be an inconvenience, or ruin the good time, or be needy, or draw attention to myself, or possibly make cookies late for her plane (she had more than enough time and it wouldnt have been a problem at all. pulling over for a minute wouldnt have mattered. we werent even on the freeway.) so why didn’t i even think to say something?

i was never like this. i was never somebody who didnt stand up for myself.

or was i? i dont know. i have avenged people in the past, speaking up for them when they didnt have anyone on their side, so why cant i speak up for myself? i didnt say anything when i was being molested, or raped, but i was just a child. but ive been ground down more and more to be more subservient, quieter, helpless, and the few times i try to defend myself or make a stand or speak up i end up saying a very wrong thing or being extremely rude or just embarrassing myself by saying something foolish. or i come off as aggressive. 

aggression.

i have nothing so i have nothing to ground me and nothing with which to assert myself. as time goes on i feel weaker and weaker, more and more feeble and like i need permission to be alive. i cant be open with my family about nearly any of my beliefs or interests, hence why i am so fervent and adamant them in spaces that i can be (like, here, for instance, blogging until i am blue in the face about warcraft and dumb rave shit). in person i feel foolish among other wow fans, who play the game better than i do and know more about the lore than i do, and i am made to feel like an imposter (FUCK YOU spellcheck i prefer the -er) or an idiot or a “fake fan” or like “wow you dedicate so much of your life to this and you still dont know a fucking thing, what a loser, what a moron”. and i feel that way about rave shit too. hanging around other DJs and shit who know so much more about their specific areas, things im not necessarily against knowing but havent really done the research on my own, i feel like i’m nothing, too.

i dont have any worthwhile qualities and especially nothing that i’m capable of doing to a lucrative or productive degree. i have a worthless art degree, speaking of which, after 5 interminable soul-crushing years at a university that ground me in its teeth and made me feel like i belonged as a smear on the pavement. and then i almost was that after being hit by a car during what was supposed to be my final semester. 

im just really not supposed to be here and i have nothing to offer. and i know nobody is “supposed” to be here but i dont even have the means to act like it or to make myself useful. i cant even be useful to myself. i cant even do the things i have an inkling of wanting to do. i just start hitting myself or crying even when i try to do the things that will make me happy. the amount of times ive been at my tables mixing away and then beating the shit out of myself at the slightest mistake and having to sit in the bath for an hour to calm down are innumerable. drawing isn’t as violent, unless im interrupted, in which case it becomes a heavy weight, like an anvil on my forehead, screaming about all the time i was wasting, and how i spent x hours on this and it still looks like shit or it’s completely pointless or “oh orcs again how fucking original you fucking cuntrag of course your favorite is the inexcusably evil and violent genocidal piece of shit character you constantly try to “fix” in your head and make excuses for because youre a broken worthless idiot addicted to abuse since being used is the only function you have in this world”

im kind of glad r/incel was banned because i was developing kind of a hate-read addiction to seeing screenshots on here. i never went to the reddit itself but being raised on that kind of mentality brought back a lot of feelings, and i was trying to train myself to just laugh at those posts, but so many people like that have ruined me in the past that i ended up feeling like i had a duty to “hear” them out. i was practically raised by men who would now be classified as “incels” and that rhetoric comprised a bulk of my understanding about sexuality, especially when my introduction to the entire concept of sex was through entitlement via rape. i thought letting myself be abused was some act of altruism, and that men wanting to possess me was something admirable and validating, especially since i was so ugly, that they in turn were being charitable by allowing themselves to be associated with me, that the least i could do was let them get some kind of pleasure out of it. 

sure i didnt know any better as a child but im still fighting these feelings as an adult. i cant even navigate my own feelings about men. the pirate wants to go to bar sinister again on saturday (with smee, luckily) but i still cant feel out if it’s a date or not, and i still cant decide whether or not i’m comfortable with it being a date, since i dont know what attraction is, i dont want to hurt the guy’s feelings, and i’d like to stay friends, and i dont want to make him mad, and i dont want to lead him on either, and i DONT KNOW WHY i am basically arguing with myself as to whether or not i should ‘let this happen’, that i should just allow something to happen to me, again, because i “pursued” this man enough to let him know i wanted to get to know him better and hang with him outside of just seeing him on the bus, but i do not believe i have ever consciously pursued someone romantically IN MY LIFE (and if i did i was the last to know i was doing it). i have never had the thought “I want to date this person” because i dont fucking know what dating is, i dont know what anything is, i dont fucking know anything, i am not someone who would intentionally make a “First Move” on someone in the way of “wow i want to kiss this person so i had better get to know them better” like they do in the movies.

ultimately i guess i cannot ever imagine someone respecting me and being reciprocal with me. cannot ever imagine someone wanting to be around me for me and not because of some ulterior motive, like that theyre in love with me because of some shit emotional labor they squeezed out of me or some naive infatuation theyve conjured up in their heads about how we’re going to be married someday even if i explicitly reject them outright on several separate occasions, or how they’re so emotionally stunted that me being a cordial human being and sharing a trace of interest with them (wow youre a girl, AND you play video games? AND you have hooves?) translates into a crush because they have zero boundaries or understanding of women. 

cause like, im a fucking disaster area. i dont even want to be around me. i cannot even look at myself in the mirror, my insecurity is volatile, i’m incredibly unstable and i have no self-preservation or means of independence. if you want to be dragged down in every facet possible, look no further: i am a living embodiment of trench foot. so because i deem myself having no value i dont see why anyone else could. which is why im comfortable with traces of platonic shit and why social media is perfect. it’s meaningful enough interaction to let me know that i, individually, have value, but superficial and ephemeral enough to know it’s not because anyone has any weird fucking obsession with or bias toward me. my art appears on their dash in a flash and if they like it, they like it, and that’s it. they dont gotta say shit, and it’s an entirely objective Unit of Value not based on any expected performance from me or my identity as a human being. Just, deemed worthy, and if they add their own addendum or something it’s because they’re contributing to something larger, not directly feeding into my ego/personhood. 

and in turn, on my blog i can provide whatever sort of content i want without expectation and at the end of the day even if it goes unnoticed, im not doing it for any means to an end so ultimately its impact is irrelevant. like, thank fucking god. my blog doesnt provide a service to people where they expect some kind of Product, and they can opt out at any time. as long as im not going around hurting people (and obviously i would never want to do that) my blog doesnt matter, and i dont have to matter. 

“you matter”. fuck off. maybe i dont want to matter. maybe im better off just being a transient, tied to nothing and no one to keep from burdening anybody or burdening myself by feeling like i have to be fucking “useful” all the time. 

for how truly invisible i feel all the time, it’s ironic how much i wish i could be.

#blathering

[floramodus-archive]

begin disaster ==>

floramodus fuckfuckjfuck DAVE!!!!!!

clockworkkatana what whats up

floramodus my microscpe exploded i cant see theres glass and blood everywhere i dont wanna die again but i cant SSEE!!!

clockworkkatana whoa fuck wait what

floramodus the nuclear reactor battery in my scope combusted and i couldnt contain it all in time and it blew out my retinas and i think shattered my lens i dont know i dont know!!!!!!

clockworkkatana um fuck okay hold still ill be there in just a second

floramodus be careful i dontt know how b a d the glass went

clockworkkatana dont worry ill put on shoes just stay still a second okay? dont move

floramodus ggot that covered i kinda stopped trying when i got a shard of goddamn GLASS in my hands!!

clockworkkatana ill take care of that too just keep breathing for now im on my way

clockworkkatana "Keep breathing" is advice both to her and yourself, and you try best to follow it as the transportalizer warms up, dumping you unceremonious on the receiver pad a universe away. You swear to fuck, if another friend dies (or even is badly injured) you're going to have to break something. A fundamental force of the universe, maybe. You'res still workshopping.

"Flo?" you say, voice steady as you please, slowly opening the door to her room. You hear the crunch of glass underfoot and know you've found the right place. "It's me. It's Dave. Talk to me, Flo."

floramodus Even blind and panicking you can't help but hiccup a laugh at his voice. God, your a mess. "I know its you, Dave. It's not-" You spit out another mouthful of blood, voice wavering as you take off your glasses to cover your mangled eyes with your equally bleeding hand.

"It's not like I was expecting anyone else," you finish, twisting your body to face where you heard him enter. As casual as you tried to look you felt like you could scream; Thank fuck the explosion hadnt of hurt your ears, because seeing nothing but red and black reminded you too fondly of your time in the horrorterrors. You fumbled to find the chair with your other hand, gripping the leg when you found it. "I hope you werent working."

clockworkkatana You wince at the blood - fuck, there sure is a lot of that, huh? - and fail to summon a reassuring smile you know she can't see. "I don't know what your life's like," you counter, taking careful steps towards her, avoiding as much glass as you can manage, "best to make sure you knew it's me and not some rando, yeah?"

She turns to face you and oh good lord you think you've actually had this nightmare once or twice. How about fuck. "Jesus," you murmur under your breath before clearing your throat and raising your voice for her to hear: "Nah, don't worry about it. Not a lot's more pressing than this, don't stress about me." You reach out to place a hand on her shoulder, kneeling down beside her.

floramodus The contact snaps you farther back into reality, or breaks the overall shock. What ever the case, your still left with the throbbing pain actually hitting you for the first time. Fuck. You spend a minute trying to level your breathing. Maybe think of something witty and cool to respond with. You fail, but you'd doubt he'd give you shit for it.

"I didn't think I was doing anything dangerous," you whimper, taking your hand off your face as you try to push yourself up onto your knees. Your rewarded with surprise! More glass in your knees and the sensation of shards tangled in your tail. Keeping you head low trying to spare him more imagery then he has to see, you find his arm to touch something not laced with goddamn glass. You cant even feel yourself crying but you have an inkling you are. "I was just updating some information and I still managed to fuck up. I dont wanna die again.How else am I gonna fix this?"

clockworkkatana You are so bad at bedside manner. You take a breath and swallow down the discomfort, though, you have more important things to worry about. "We're gonna figure it out," you say, and you can almost believe yourself, saying it. "Just. Okay. First things first, we're gonna get you out of here and get you cleaned up. Sound good? Leave the worrying about to me, I can handle that."

You're still mumbling what are supposed to be reassurances when you rise slowly to your feet, sliding her arm around your neck. "Just relax and keep to breathing, yeah?" you say, carefully picking her up off the broken glass. "I got you from here." Your apartment hasn't needed to double as field hospital since Briar came back, but you've kept the kits well stocked just in case. "You don't have to fix this," you reassure. "Leave it to me. You're not gonna die again. You didn't fuck this up. S'not your fault. I'll handle this. Just let me do that, alright?"

floramodus "Don't you ever get tired of being the one to handle everything Dave?" you mumble, hissing through your teeth. Helpful as getting off a floor coated in glass was the urge to crawl right back into a ball was almost too tempting. Instead you grip tighter to him, trying to keep most of the blood off. From the smell alone you doubt its worth the work. Doesn't stop the worry from needling physical responses out of you.

"You spend so much of your time fixing things. Things that werent your fault and shouldnt be." You lean your head against him, ears flicking as you listen to him try- and fail- to appear as composed. "You can handle alot but do you ever ask if you should?" Before you even let that tangent fully settle you bring up your defense, with a breathy laugh. "I know this pickle I've gotten myself into isn't the time to question your motives I much appreciate not being a pin cushion till I expire. Your much warmer than the floor anyway."

clockworkkatana Don't you? But, then, if you won't, who will? (Or, you suppose, if you don't handle things, what are you supposed to do? Stand by and watch things happen? Never seemed your style.) "It's worth it," you reply, and you suppose it's answer enough.

It's difficult, carrying a goddess in your arms and scrolling through transportalizer coordinates to find the one that leads back home, but somehow you manage, face dour as Flora laughs. "I'd rather bear the brunt of it if it means you lot don't have to. And - don't talk like that. You're not expiring. We don't have expiration dates and you're hardly that far out if we did."

floramodus You'd roll your eyes if they werent throbbing with the rest of your skull. A classic Dave response, one you expected, but it had to be said. No use to argue with a knight after all. Instead you yawn, it twisting into a sigh. You were tired in many many ways. "I won't argue with the Time player about death dates but you know what I meant! I'm just saying being with you is a much better alternative than was my other options were."

You jump hearing the transportilizer whirring to life, having lost your awareness of your surroundings. It made you shiver, knowing where the thing was in the map in your head but not being able to pinpoint it visually. Especially when the smells switched in an instant, throwing your generally clear sense out the window. You shook your head, trying to stamp down the shaking. "And considering it feels like the horrorterrors are gonna tear me apart again, I don't particularly wanna see my other options if thats alright with you."

clockworkkatana You guess you smile at that, a lip curling with a huff of breath. "Yeah, I guess you got me there." Artemis and company give a chorus as you step inside, watching as you carrying Flora through the apartment towards Briar's room.

You still think of it as hers, anyway, and you've hardly touched it since she left, but she won't be back today or tomorrow or maybe ever so you guess it's alright to use it for its intended purpose when you rented this place. That is, a place to not bleed all over the floors and ruin your deposit. "Fine by me," you say, depositing her very gently on the bed. Talos appears in the doorframe, and you get him to go grab the medkits while you focus on getting her sorted. "Don't worry, alright? I'm right here and I got you. You're gonna be fine."

floramodus "I think at this point your saying that more for yourself than me," you chuckle, despite still shivering. Smooth, almost like you weren't having a panic attack so bad your chest felt like it was collasping. Like you couldnt feel your own pulse in between seizing pain. Tucking yourself close once you were set down, you cocked your head trying to pinpoint where you were in Dave's house. You have been here a million  times but this place smelled like Briar and stale iron more than the usual scents.

"This is Briar's old place isn't it," you murmur, wiping the collecting blood off your face with the back of your hand, clenched tight enough you felt your nails digging into the cuts on your palms. Normally you wouldn't even breach that subject if you could help it but he could throw you a bone here. He could have taken you to Briar's for all you know. Though you think you couldn't have paid him enough to do so.

clockworkkatana You scowl and shoot her a scathing glare that she can't see. "I might be," you reply, taking the hint and slowing yourself right the fuck down. "Doesn't mean I don't mean it, though." Talos returns, setting down a heavy bag and rifling through supplies you've had kept safe as a just-in-case ever since you got your own place. Thank your upbringing for that, you guess.

"Oh, uh. Yeah," you falter for a moment before you shake yourself and find the bandages to wipe away the blood. You cough, finding some tweezers to start plucking the shards of glass from her skin. "Her, ah. Old room, from when she crashed with me. Yeah, why?"

floramodus It takes you a minute to get coherent enough to reply to his discomfort, due to the fact as soon you heard metal you jerked yourself back on the bed. Of course when your arm doesnt want to take your weight you fall onto your side with a hiss. Right, at Dave's. Not a doctor. Doesn't stop your pulse from trying to escape your mortal coil.

"Uh, nothing, I just smelt her is all. I just wanted to know where I was." You hated how pathetic that sounded, how pathetic you were at the moment in general. "I just smelted blood and Briar and I know thats not something I've smelt here before. Ive never gone in here, haven't had to." You didn't have to ask if this is where she had been when she came back. You could smell it. Even coming to the internet after the aftermath you could almost picture the disaster from the mosaic the smells made. It was uncomfortable almost, not organic.

clockworkkatana Ah. Right. You'd been trying not to think about how the air in here was still a little stashed with the weight of her. "Oh. No, yeah. This is her room. I haven't gone in here much since she moved. Not for like a set reason or anything I just haven't. Really had a reason to I guess." Do you sound as pathetic as you think that sounds? Eesh. Maybe stop thinking about it and focus on the task at hand.

"But no, yeah. We're still at my place." You spare a glance at her eyes when you dab at the blood with another bandage, wince at the red film that sort of leaks from her ducts. "At risk of asking maybe the dumbest question ever, how, uh. How are you feeling? How's the pain? I have stuff for it. Advil, oxycodone, morphine, the works. I'm working on the glass right now but. Talk to me, Flo."

floramodus "You say risk like theres a chance it wasn't dumb, Dave," you huff in a good natured way, glad for a segaway over you two trying to fumble over a charred bridge still smoldering with embers. You were never good at that. Which is why you guess the bridge of how you ended up like this is still left dry rotted. At least you had enough answers to satisfy your morbid curiousity. "It hurts. bad. I'm cold and i cant stop shivering. I want go to bed. I'm sleepy. It hurts. Did I mention it feels like I shot myself?"

You try sit up but get as far as shoving yourself up an inch before your slip back down. The more tired you got the more sitting still made you nervous. Like every second that crawled past was gonna drag you with it. "Whats the diagnosis doc? Am I gonna have to go to the rainbow bridge to fix this?" you said, yelping at the last few words as he pulled out a sizable chunk. Note to self: bulletproof glass.

clockworkkatana "Do you want these fucking drugs or not," you fire back, cracking a grin as you reel back from potentially dive-bombing into angsty horseshit again. "But. Yeah. Okay, I can work with that. Just let me get the rest of these shards out-" the words are eclipsed by a particularly tricky sliver that feels bad just to watch abscond from her skin, nevermind how it must feel on the extraction, "-and I'll let you rest. I can give you something for that, too. I'll even let you borrow my good blanket, alright?"

She shifts as you drop another shard into the little bowl you're containing them all in, and you put a hand on her shoulder to ease her back down. "Don't move, alright? You're gonna be just fine. I'm gonna patch you up and you'll be right as rain, no rainbow bridge required."

floramodus "I've never had pain meds in my life but at this point I'll take anything- it'll keep me from BITING you at least," you growl, the irony of your bared teeth not lost on you even as you fight the urge to snap his hand. "I'm doing my best here ok," you continue, as if your hands werent aching from tension, "But you know damn well I'm not gonna take anything of yours unless were sharing it Dave." Were you afraid of being alone and blind? Maybe. He didn't have to know that. He probably already did. Your friendship was infuriating like that.

You tried to think of a conversation that would fit in between the silence and not sound stupid, but really, what wouldn't? Sure lets talk about the weather while your laying here, blind as a bat, whimpering as you scratch at your own eyes because they felt like goddamn sandpaper. Real casual.

"It's hell actually caring that you exist," you finally say, turning you head to look at him. "Before I made such progress when I didn't care if each time I died it could end up just. Now? its so frustrating that every option is a dead end! Even with all the knowledge and equipment I have I'm failing Bec again and again just like I failed David, Rose, John.........All of you when I couldn't just find a goddamn solution and be able to stop!"

Another piece, another panging spasm. "The saddest thing is theres solutions all around but guess what? I don't want any of you hurt. Not if I tried to play the game again, you using that damned book of yours. Why can't that be solace enough to quit? Why do I still do this? I've probably learnt too much from you." you conclude, turning your head back around with a sigh.

clockworkkatana “I know, I know,” you begin, though she beats you to the punch and drops you with a couple of bombshells that have you sighing and silent. The morphine is right where you left it from last time, and you rattle the bottle a little in your hand, toying with the cap. “I don’t need morphine.”

The hand on her shoulder cups her face - you don’t know anything about anything but you don’t think scratching at her eyes is going to help things - for a moment before pulling away, and you match her sigh with one of your own. “You aren’t failing anyone,” you say, and you mean it, really you do, but even to you the words sound tired. “The game just fucked you, straight up. You shouldn’t have to torture yourself over reworking and reverse-engineering this fucking. Planet-ending crock of eldritch horror straight from a Sims-addicted serial killer’s fantasy fever dream to try and undo what basically amounts to fate bullshit and destiny /fucks/. That shouldn’t be on you, Flora.”

You pluck what you think is the last shard of glass and drop it unceremoniously into the bowl, waving your hand in the air in a gesture she can’t even see. “Don’t even talk about playing again, dude. I know you’re hurting for answers but for real. Don’t mess with that. I’ll take the stupid book and whatever it did to Briar over you going back in there any day of the week.” At the mention of the tome, you glance over to see it resting on the cleared-out space of Briar’s desk. As though it’d been there all along, beckoning. “What could it do to me, anyway.”

floramodus You crack a small smile at his colorful tangent, knowing realistically he was right. It wasn't your choice to play. It wasn't your choice to die. And yet, here you were. Fumbling with your hand, you wave it like an unsure dog until you make contact with his arm, gripping it. "It could do a hell of alot to you Dave and you know it. You don't what it does you've said it yourself. Do you think I could live with myself if it did something?"

You let go, moving your blood stuck bangs off your forehead, wincing at the pang of pain that radiates up your forearm. "I survived losing everyone I care for Dave. I thought that was the worst that could happen. I know I'm wrong about that. If something hurt you id easily find something just without thought. You don't know how much you've made this life worth living. It's an option, yeah, but you've got to look at yourself and know that."

You lay your arm back down on your stomach, sucking air in through your teeth. Who knew being covered in glorified papercuts would sting so much? "But don't worry, I won't play the game again. That I can leave in the past and not be discontent."

clockworkkatana You shrug to that. Hypothetically, from what you know? It could do a great fucking deal of a lot. Briar’d only used it as last resort, and look what she had to show for it. Then again, so had you, and you’d seen no adverse side effects, aside from the one where she moved out. “It wouldn’t kill me,” you reply. “Besides, I’ve used it before. How do you think I brought Briar back?”

You wince in empathy, shaking out the morphine pills and pressing them gently into her hand while Talos exits to grab her a drink. Then you wince again, when her words process. “Come on, Flo,” you begin, a pang of guilt racking you as she carries on. “I care about you too, you know that. And that’s exactly why I’m bringing it up: I want to fix this, and the book is… it’s good at fixing things. You wouldn’t lose me for that - no one would.”

You make a hum of appreciation at the appeasement of that particular nightmare. “We don’t have to do anything right now. We don’t have to make any decisions yet. But we’ll figure something out. Maybe it’s the book, maybe it’s another way. But we’ll find a way to fix this. I promise that.”

floramodus You let the tension ebb out of your shoulders at his affirmations, but still let a frown creep through. Yeah, he had brought her back, but you knew things like that, never worked the same way twice. However, if he insisted everything would work out, you were inclined to believe him. Many drunken and wounded nights in the past year had proven his words correct; Everything would be ok if you believed him.

"Not like I'm in the right place to be making any important decisions" you joke, giving the pills a tentative sniff. Dave could have given you cyanide for all you care, but the sharp scent of sulfate and stale wrongness still sent a shudder down your spine. Gross. "But your right, nothing we can do tonight anyway. I just-" you pause, trying to prop and pull yourself up so you could take these pills without choking, and manage to pull yourself up just enough to be able to slump your weight on your elbow. You take  By then you didn't know how to finish that statement, so you throw the pills in your mouth and chase them down with the water Talos brings a few minutes later into your pondering. What did you wish for? To be able to be better at being the powerful god you wanted to be? Or that he would have been David, giving you someone that actually cared enough to try? "I just care too much, but thats always been my problem hasn't it?"

#action #plot #clockworkkatana #blood / #eye horror / #gore / #injury / #suicide mention / #death mention / #drugs / #literally ask to tag theres so much #but heres what shes been up too #long / #really goddamn long /

[trickstarbrave]

some of yall...... get rly weird w kids dating. obv their are lines that can be crossed, upperclassman should stay away from fucking freshman, if ur 17 theres no reason ur partner should be 14/15 (I saw fuckign 18 year old seniors datin 14 year old freshman and EVERYONE thought it was fuckin nasty and i wish someone stopped his ass), and you shouldnt have sex as a minor and no older partner should ever tell you to do so. 

but being in college does not automatically make u more mature. some college kids still live w their parents (i knew a BUNCH of community college kids who did), some college kids are still dependent on their parents, not even half of college kids can drive and have a car, sure a lot of them focus on buying their own groceries and have to get their own asses up to class but i can tell you certainly college freshmen are fucking disasters and really are just high school kids but nervous as all hell and dont figure out what the fuck theyre doing until half way thru sophomore year at the earliest. 

if someone is in late high school and the other has just started college they arent necessarily worlds apart in terms of maturity to just date. no i dont think anyone in college should go to a high school, thats weird (unless u like work there. i kno teachers aids and cafeteria workers who have worked at high schools while going to college) but like.... if someone is 18 and in hs and another is 18 and in college......... it isnt a predatory relationship by virtue of college. i 100% can assure you underclassman in college are still fucking children. you can spot em a mile a way. i have more in common with my classmates who have children than i do 18 year olds. i had more in common with high schoolers when i was an underclassman. i dated my partner when he was a couple of years older than me (we didnt have a sexual relationship until i was in college) and he skipped a grade, still lived w his parents, was dependent on them for years, and still doesn’t know how to drive. if you’re measure our maturity in “can buy groceries alone, can drive a car, and lives alone” i was more ‘mature’ than him despite being younger.

but my point here is what makes a relationship super predatory isnt even being able to drive a car or living alone or paying bills. high school students can pay rent and drive a car and have a job and i dont think an adult my age should be fucking around with them. no i dont mean to call anyone who was 16-17 and had an 18 year old sexually abusing them is a liar (THEY ARENT. minors STILL CANT CONSENT TO SEX, if your force your younger partner to have sex w u/take pictures/role play sexual shit with u ur a monster plain and simple). i dont mean to say an 18 year old can date a fucking 30 year old or above and that not be kind of predatory. what im saying is some of yall get rly weird and say shit like “two 18 year olds shouldnt be in a relationship unless theyre both in high school in which case its predatory and borderline pedophilia, bc one is an ‘adult’ and the other is a complete ‘child’”. the ages of 16-19 are weird. theyre the true teenage years where you’re certainly not a ‘real adult’ and also not a complete child. having a relationship w another kid in that age group within 2 years of u doesnt automatically make the older party member a pedophile by virtue of dating them. because an 18 year old college student has more in common with their 17 year old hs partner who is literally preparing to go to college themselves, taking tests to go to college, and applying for colleges while picking out a major. especially its not predatory if they both knew each other in high school. 

this isnt a hard and fast rule like i said. this is a weird age where a relationship can easily be sketchy or it can not be. but acting like you can accurately measure “maturity” at this age is a laugh. i remember being that age and from 16-19 and whether it was in high school or going to college it was a wreck. i still had no idea what i was doing, no idea about the ‘real world’, had trouble understanding how to meal plan and got nervous buying gas. im 22 now and i barely qualify as a ‘mature adult’ and i know for a fact 18 year olds do not magically become more nature when they enter college. if you said “i dont think a 16 y/o and an 18 y/o should date” id say fine. but sometimes u gotta chill out and i say this as a csa victim. ive seen multiple ppl go thru sexual abuse at that age too. i will say ppl take sexual abuse less seriously at that age by far and its such a shame. but u cant magically determine ‘maturity’ like that. and u gotta stop hyper fixating on the ages of hypothetical kids dating or kids’ relationships in media when they arent that far apart in age or maturity. like dial it back. remember u probably werent magically fucking mature the second u graduated hs or got ur drivers license. kno theres lots of mature adults who live at home and dont got a license who shouldnt be dating 17 y/os bc theyre fucking mentally mature adults who dont have the same types of relationships as hs kids or kids coming out of hs. chill a bit and think abt other shit 

#again my main point is still minors shouldnt have sex #even if ur both like 16 i dont think u should and will stand by it but i cant tell teenagers in a consenting relationship what to do

[iwishnomore]

there are mostly civilians in the camp people and kids that wouldnt be able to defend themselves well so V gets put there with a handful people to keep an eye out for them and

the camp gets in trouble with some other grp that take their supplies away before they can pick them up

so these people seem to have their base close to that camp and V being V wants to investigate and see if these guys are just talking big or if they really can take the camp out like they say if the camp doesnt pay to get THEIR OWN STUFF back sneaking her way to those people its not only clear that these guys are full of shit- but they also have beef with each other in their own little gangster grp

she witnesses how they basically ruin themselves drinking, fighting and taking their compadres out so problem solved itself u may think as V suprise hits the last guy standing who is just happy he has a lot of shit to live off of

so while she checks how much of the supplies these greasy guys had their hands on already she gets surprised by a RANDOM LOL patrol of aliens (what kawa u drunk go home)

seems those guys had their stuff a little too close to a checkpoint and the noise they made when they killed each other resulted in alien troops coming to check what the shit is going on

So far, V’s day is a rollercoaster of ups and downs she gets wounded on her leg but manages to take out 2 out of 3 aliens

hunter shows up and oh boi does she like him but also she does not trust him bc the last time he just dissappeared after she helped him and he helped her and now she thinks that he might just go ahead and kill her rollercoaster down so to speak he shoots the last alien saying something along the lines of ‘this one I am taking care of myself~’ meaning her, obv and she thinks its her last seconds lol so while she scrambles backwards and he casually walks towards her ANOTHER PERSON SHOWS UP

so in case u cant already tell from my rambling: ASSASSIN shows up- turns out hunter has ignored the elders call and she came to check up on her annoying brother lol he reacts quickly, making sure she doesnt notice V V IS HELLA CONFUSED BUT WHY NOT while they 'talk things out’ (rather get onto each others throat pretty much immediately) she takes her leave slowly and bleeding bc of that darn wound on her leg she tries to stop the bleeding and cover her tracks

not trusting her own ability and fearing that she might get followed anyways once her absence at the scene is noticed she avoids going straight to the camp doing all the indiana jones things she even wades thru a friggin river ….that rollercoaster keeps spiraling down eh?

tired, scared, bleeding and now also soaking wet and without her jacket bc thats what she used to get rid of the blood that might drip from her leg, pants,shoes whatevs and the supplies still are theoretically lost meh so she ends up exhausted somewhere in the woods like at this point V doesnt even care? she’s gonna do something …right after she rested her eyes for a minute mind u u.u bad idea

no amount of wading thru water and trying not to bleed everywhere helped and who shows up with the most satisfied shit eating grin under the sun? aye u might have guessed it hunter wastes no time telling her all the things she did wrong while funnily enough he also without explanation or anything he just inspects her wound and does some funny psi stuff this rollercoaster is confusing V is angry, she is pissed at herself and him of course- scolding her and gloating abt how she messed up but she is also confused af werent they done with helping? shoudltn he be just …skinning her alive or some shit since thats what they say he did to some people or maybe roast her

on a kebab stick but there he is

numbing the pain in her leg somehow and deciding that she needs to get somewhere else if she had more energy she might have tried to resist

but as things are nothing stops him when he picks her up (not elegantly in the least i might mention) and starts off to who knows where

so however much time passes V has no idea but it feels like not more than 5 minutes have gone by….then again…who knows…she might have fallen unconscious somewhere along the way

she gets plopped down and its soft wherever this is it looks better than anything she knows

she is so dumbfounded by her surroundings she doesnt even talk back at first when he tells her to get out of the wet clothes

she’s in the middle of stripping down all the while still oggling the room with the sleek surfaces and the outrageously comfy looking bed…how dare they…whoever owns this place should get beaten with a stick

so before her undies fall she snaps out of her thoughts and wants to yell at him Buuuut he is nowhere to be sen seen* ok so off with the undies

V wraps herself in a blanket and (WHY IS IT SO SOFT HOW DARE THEY)

V is still taking in the room wrapped in that blanket, her clothes sprawled over a now-not-pristine-white-anymore chair this room looks pretty but empty like someone had planned to live here

its pretty and empty and although the matress she sits on is insultingly cozy and the blanket a dream come true….its still cold and V has to make a concious effort to stop her teeth from chattering where the fuck did 'he’ go tho for a moment V imagines complete strangers entering the room to see a freezing V sitting on their bed and wrapped in their blanket

thats funny almost the whole situation is ridiculous

V is ready to walk back to that chair and wring herself into those wet clothes again

leaving this place and probably dying of hypothermia outside sounds just as bad as sitting here and waiting for kingdom come this is way too similar to the last time she was stranded with this guy speaking of which maybe he already left

with her bare feet she slowly tip taps thru the room, checking windows and closets and making her way to the only door in sight the second her fingers make contact with the handle the door opens

'gotcha. nessing with the doors again.’ messing* (lol jk) no lights for now he says but the place will warm up eventually theres electricity

he somewhat inores her °_° face and walks past her and she cringes when she realizes he goes straight to her stuff V almost trips over herself to make sure he cant get a hold of anything what are you doing making sure these will dry- or would you rather have them stay wet I dont mind you like this [insert rude smile here] so the clothes get taken care of

its still cold V is still confused by his charitable behaviour wtf is he thinking wtf is SHE thinking she completely forgot abt the whole 'he is gonna kill me’ story so, with newly found waryness she starts asking questions why help me why follow me why not kill me

whose place is this we gotta remember last time they met was when she helped him and he taunted her

and she bluntly spat out that she doesnt know why she does it but whats so wrong with that- maybe she just cant help it- maybe its not her fault she likes this guy so he pulls up a chair in front of her, sits down on it, his arms on the back of it whats so wrong with that i cant help it- its your fault

nothing else he grins he is fucking crazy and V isnt so sure but it almost felt like he could have said he liked her she huffs

i could have killed you countless times you snuck right thru those wannabes today like it was nothing but you wouldnt do that to me (ah so he had watched her? hello stalker how are u today) just like u cant hide your tracks or take care of yourself

her motions at her- probably talking abt her leg which is not helaed just not hurting bad very bad in fact bed and blanket have a nice new decal in rusty red by now (I SHOULD GET BETTER AT SHIT LLIKE THIS BUT WHATEVS)

'so you dont kill me you rather lecture me abt how unable i am to stay alive by myself?’ V is showing her best side today but oh well

maybe its the rollercoaster maybe its the whole situation

so V is ready to argue but hunter isnt in the mood lol he rather laughs at how its so easy to get her riled up

and he gets over to her mentioning something about her big ego in such a tiny body no wonder she got in trouble before he gets uncomfortably close but only to take care of her leg AGAIN

this time she struggles because 1 she is shamefully aware of her nudity under that blanket 2 he has zero problems pushing her from left to right as if she was a doll not funny so he manages to take care of the wound (i will just claim that he can do it with psi so ….pls dont slaughter me) and it only leaves a thick line of fresh pink skin on her leg- no wound but that pink skin is not nearly as pink as her face would be…if it wasnt so cold

seems the warmth he spoke abt earlier is still not coming around?

he had helped her with warmth before so why not do it again only this time she has no clothes and if he hasnt seen her blue lips from the cold he has definitely felt how icy her leg still was so off goes the armor

after the armor drops his hood drops he even takes off that sleeveless shirt

okay now Vs face definitely gets SOME shades pinker and not bc she is suddenly feeling less cold 'what the hell are u doing she scoots as far back on the bed as possible but OH MAN DOES SHE STARE

this guy is toned no weird alien anatomy apart from a slight difference in proportions but man lean and toned no wonder he picked her up like an acorn or a feather or whatever else V can come up with as a comparison 'so shy all of a sudden’ its true

V is staring with big eyes but not a single word comes out of her mouth as he comes closer he is not completely unclothed and its not like she hasnt seen men before but its different when u have to admit that u wanted to see something…and then like it too much when u do although u really neither shouldnt want to see it nor like it should/shouldnt whatever V knows this is wrong on more than one level

last time he’d had the blanket and she had bedgrudgingly come to him this time she has the blanket

and she wishes she could hide in it

she tenses up as his chest touches her cheek and his arms pull her close. he says something about deja vu and her being like a stray kitten but V doesnt listen last time his clothes had been like a shield between them this time her cheek presses against his skin

so they are, once again, in this position

V finds herself relax after a while bc feeling him like this and having the scent of his skin in her nose is getting her drowsy her head is filled with clouds and there is this incredibly need to nuzzle into him how to resist this is the most cruel seven minutes in heaven she has ever taken part in normally this would feel like the moment to do all the things and her heartbeat is saying just that nuzzle deeper breathe in this scent some more feel his skin

put your arms around this man instead she sits there like a marble statue but if she brushes her cheek against his skin just a little bit he wont notice right? he wont notice if she inhales a tiny bit longer than neccessary right?

would he notice if she moved a little, not much, just to feel his warmth some more and to lean into this not-really-embrace some more? shifting carefully and only a little was the plan

but when she feels his hands on her back move as well —her body moves as if on its own and she stretches and shifts enough to bury her face in the nape of his neck. …good job V. Very subtle she can barely hold back from sighing

it doesnt matter tho bc as if some silent agreement between them took place right as her fingertip gingerly move across his collarbone and to his jawilne one of his hands finds the back of her neck and guides her u.u and it happens no taunting no arguing no words at all

just warmth and silence and locked lips in a kiss

one kiss becomes two kisses three four each one greedier than the one before

bodys pressing against each other as if trying to melt into each other, hands roaming and breathless sighs gasping for air

V’s arms are wrapped around his neck, the blanket she was holding onto forgotten, her mind a mess, filled with the haze of want and a deep longing for his touch skin aginast skin

he is either gifted with natural talent or simply knows how to kiss and touch his hands are big and warm and they hold her tightly one more kiss they pause theres maybe 5milimeters between them none of them willing to let go

catching their breath

V feels a simmering ache between her thighs…and his arousal…well its obvious this is wrong no more she thinks but hesitantly places yet another kiss on his lips to betray her own thoughts there is not a hint of his usual smug smile on his lips the playful shimmer in his eyes she has seen so often is nowhere to be found

he is thinking

he bites back words as she kisses him again a chaste kiss on the lips and his fingertips gently caress the back of her head as he kisses back

with her hand against his chest she can feel that his heart is hammering just as fast as hers

He leans forward pushing V onto her back and into the heap of pillows behind her

with the blanket barely covering her nether regions she lies there, cheeks flushed and her hands timidly pulling back to cover herself. He is towering over her. V had almost forgotten how tall he is while kissing him- every touch had felt so natural so right. This view is a little intimidating to her….and exciting as well. The look on her face brings the smile back on his lips

he sits up, now kneeling between her legs. 'Now you’ve done it…’ he trails his hand over her healed thigh, his fingertips lightly brushing over the soft patch of pink. ’…your fault if you regret this..’ swift movements of his free hand undo his pants while the other hand disappears underneath the blanket covering V.

There was no denying it. V’s was dripping wet from the kisses and body contact alone…she’d felt the growing bulge in his pants. She couldn’t even think straight seeing it now although it was still hidden underneath the thick layer of fabric. Her eyes were transfixed on his hand on the pants hemline above it. V wanted him. Possible regrets or not.

She only realized where his other hand was wandering to when he slipped a finger between her wet folds. HE dragged his finger along the narrow path from her entrance to her clit and back, then teased her entrance, drawing circles around the overflowing heat- dipping into her from time to time ever so slightly but always leaving her wanting for more. He had her mewling and writhing in no time. Everytime she bucked her hips to meet his fingers he pulled back to deny her the pleasure she was seeking so depserately. Deeper. She wanted to feel it deeper inside. Sweet torture…. ’….please….’ It was a whimper so small and shy it was almost inaudible. The heat inside of her was unbearable. The small plea that had escaped her lips giving away how helplessly needy he had made her for him. With a low chuckle and a satisfied hiss he removed his hand from her fully. V bit her lip. She WAS like a stray kitten. Needy and outright begging. And now she had given herself away like an idiot as well. Yes, she wanted him. Maybe had wanted him from the start. Now he knew. And he would reject her. She closed her eyes, ready to hear the taunting and teasing. Oh silly human….why would he want you…. She waited for the words but they didnt come. Instead, the matress shifted. Movement. (would he leave her here like this??) V peeked through her lashes . He looked godly. Broad shoulders, sleek collarbones, smooth skin, defined abs. The lower her eyes wandered the more she asked herself what was not perfect abt him…he had strong hip bones as well…and even lower… The Hunter was moving slowly, he could tell she’d have her eyes on him. Some freedom from the tight pants was much needed and he smirked at her small gasp when his already leaking erection was revealed. He removed the last bits of clothing before he returned his attention to her…and his needs. His fingers were still wet from touching V when he wrapped them around his shaft. He was painfully hard and throbbing with arousal. There was nothing else he wanted more in this moment than burying himself deep inside of her.

[hyde1403]

Just a rant

Nothing to do with my craft or anything with fandom...i just really really REALLY need to rant.

I'm 10 weeks pregnant. Before the baby I had a loving boyfriend, who made me feel so special, wanted, beautiful, and sane. When i had my moments of weakness he would just hold me and tell me its ok to feel like that. We were making plans on the future and it was fantastic....

Then i got pregnant. I dont regret my baby, I'm looking forward ti being a mom. But 2 weeks after we found out and finally decided what we were going to do (werent sure in the beginning if we were keeping it or not), he decided to leave me.

He said he had a drunken night with his ex (his daughter's mother) and even though she doesnt want a relationship of one, he wants to be available just in case she changes her mind. Like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!?!

Here i am, a woman who has loved this man and taken care if him even when i wasnt feeling great and pregnant with his child, and he decides in one night that he doesnt want to be with me because of a woman who doesnt even want him. How is that fair??

"I'll be there for the baby, i want to be in the baby's life" he says as I'm loosing my mind.

"But what about me? I'm still a person? I was promised to have help and comfort and love and now in the 2 minutes youve been here I'm a signal parent who has to go through pregnancy alone?" I yelled back at him.

Because honestly, even if i felt ready to move on what guy in their right mind wants to date a woman who is already pregnant or has an infant child?!?!?

He gets to go on with life happy as a clam chasing this woman who just uses him as a nanny and check book while im having a tough time with my pregnancy.

I have some pretty extreme symptoms. My horomones and emotions are all over the place, ive lost weight because of the nausea and vomiting, a mixture of insomnia and extreme tiredness. Plus my lease runs out in july and I have to find a new place because my apartment is too small for a baby. And at that point I'll be 7 months pregnant!

Ti make matters worse, he still talks to me and comes to the baby appointments. It was so hard seeing him for the forst time after he split with me and having to sit next to him for the whole thing but not able to hold his hand to ask for a hug when i was crying after seeing my baby on the ultrasound. Because he's told me that im not allowed to get a hug in case i think he wants to get back with me. It hurt so much to hear that. So i confronted him about it and asked if that meant he wouldnt help me at all when I'm labor then and if hes just goung to stand in the corner waiting fir the baby to be born. Because if he is i dont want him there. But he's promised me he would comfort me in any way i need only when I'm in labor.

And my friends and family think I'm absolutely crazy and just making my symptoms seem worse than they are and they dont know how to help or deal with me. I feel so alone. All i do is go to work, come home and sleep. That's it.

I was hoping for a loving partner who would help me when im sick or rub my back or help me with my shoes when im too big to do it myself but nope. My whole has been crashing around me and I have no one.

My therapist says im doing an amazing job keeping my head up and learning how to work with my new challenges.

But in truth? I feel like I'm dying inside. Ive managed to keep myself tear free about this for 2 weeks now's only out of sheer will. I want to be happy but how can i be when this is my first child and their father doesnt want to be with me. Im terrified but I dont have anyone to run to.....

I dont know what im doing and I'm tired of trying to figure it out on my own