#i need to get my ass off social media before i drive myself further into despair

[glowingbadger]

I loved the Ashe, Sylvain, and Hilda modern-day HCs. So….can I ask for….Marianne, Dima, and Claude now? They’re so so good.

Here's a quick list of the places I've touched on ModernAU stuff with these characters before, for anyone who's interested! General Modern HCs (Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Claude, Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Marianne) Soft HCs (Dimitri)

I'll try not to repeat myself too much, but the SFW portion might be a little sparse because I've written a good deal of my thoughts on that already :3

Marianne, Dimitri, Claude x GN Reader

Modern/College AU headcanons

SFW (not sfw under the cut)

Marianne:

- Definitely a veterinary student who has an incredible, intuitive way with animals. One of those "gets along with animals better than people" types. As a result, many others in her classes see her as aloof or difficult to talk to. Fortunately, when Hilda drags her to a party one night, you notice her keeping to herself and come to make casual conversation. It takes a bit for her to open up, but she's soon grateful for pleasant, relaxing company in the midst of the loud chaos.

- She needs a good amount of reassurance in a relationship, as she's so convinced you could do better. Marianne is totally the type to apologize for not being good enough for you, then apologize for bringing it up, then apologize for apologizing. But her love and admiration for you are so very clear. She'll shyly take your hand in hers, and just the way she looks at you, it's like you're every star and every sunset she's ever seen.

- Marianne spends some of her free time volunteering at a local animal shelter, and one of your earlier dates would involve her introducing you to some of the animals in her care. Here, it's like you see a completely different side of her- she's so much more confident and firm when she speaks to the animals, and she smiles so brightly and laughs adorably as she watches you attempt to make a good impression on them.

Dimitri:

- We've chatted about Modern! Dimitri a good deal so far- but I will double down here on the fact that, while he's outwardly extremely intimidating to your friends when you first start dating, you know (and they learn) that he's absolute Malewife material.

- He loves sitting on video calls with you and just staring at your adorable, lovely face. He's an excellent listener, and will gladly hear about your entire day from start to finish, even if you insist it was nothing special. He's just so soothed by your voice, and the chance to see you. While he's honestly not very good at social media in general, he does have a couple hundred pictures of you saved. Not to post anywhere, just to look back at with a goofy grin on his face.

Claude:

- Claude is the guy on campus that everyone likes, plenty of people want, but no one can really nail down. He seems to know everyone, but he's only actually close to a few good friends, and for the longest time, even they assume that he's the "doesn't believe in serious dating" type. It starts much the same with you- he figures you're interesting and cute as hell, so he may as well spend some time having fun and getting to know you. And then... the feels TM creep in.

- You'll be caught up in a sort of... friendly flirtation with him for a while. The kind where it would be easy to play off all of the corny innuendos and knowing glances as "just kidding around." Then, one night, after a long group study session or just lazing around with drinks and games with his friends, he offers to walk you back to your dorm. When you get caught in a sudden downpour and have to duck under the nearest building's awning for shelter, he gives you a strange lingering look that's so much heavier than any you've seen. And without a word, he leans down to kiss you. When you part, he's wearing a slanted smile, but he's fidgeting a bit when he says, "Hey, uh, Y/N. I wanna be with you- for real. So uh... how 'bout it?"

- Claude is just the most fun boyfriend ever. He's got an active and curious mind, so he's always game to try anything you're interested in, and you'll never be at a loss for date ideas. He's the kind who gets okay grades, though nothing incredible, but his brilliance shines in how he latches on to new information, turning a topic around in his mind until he's seen it from every angle. It's especially charming when he asks to hear about your interests or areas of expertise- he asks all the right questions and the conversation becomes lively just about instantly.

NSFW 18 + v

Marianne:

- You're definitely her first sexual partner (she hasn't even dated seriously until you), and she's going to take a long time to get comfortable freely exploring the physical side of a relationship. She's a big cuddler, once you've assured her that you like it too- she finds it immensely soothing to rest her head on your shoulder or on your chest, just listening to your breathing and feeling you warm against her. But as for sexual affection, she'll start slow, testing things by letting her gentle hands tentatively wander just a little further than before, or deepening your kiss a little more than usual.

- Best practice with Marianne is to let her be the one to suggest or initiate things, but to respond enthusiastically when she does so she knows you're happy with it and you want her as much as she wants you. Your approval and encouragement fills her with warmth she's never felt before, and a sense of bold desire she hadn't even known she was capable of. There's plenty of communication with her- there has to be -but in a way, that becomes its own sort of eroticism. Soft murmurs of, "is this okay?", "does that feel good?", or "can you take more?" mix in with affirmative sighs and moans, turning the negotiation of comfort into a wonderful, slowly escalating path towards satisfaction.

- She's absolutely mortified by the idea of sexting or sending nudes, but if she sends you an outfit she's considering and reply with a coy "You look amazing- can't wait to take that off of you" (honestly the cheesier the better with the pickup lines- being too smooth would intimidate her)- she'll only respond with a single blushing emoji, but you bet she'll be wearing that outfit to your next date.

Dimitri:

- Everyone on campus, including your friends/roomates see Dimitri as such a pure cinnamon roll that you might be surprised to learn he has a rather healthy sex drive underneath all of that sweetness and affection. Granted, he's definitely most likely to desire you when he feels emotionally close to you- but that won't stop him from fucking you nice and deep until your bed creaks. The first time someone overhears you practically screaming out his name, rumors start spreading that your ever-devoted Malewife is actually legendary in bed. It's mostly a raunchy joke, but as far as you're concerned, they're not exactly wrong.

- He's too nervous to actually save any of the spicy pics you've sent him to his phone, but that doesn't stop him from regularly scrolling back through your message threads to find them. Masturbating to porn is fine and good, but when he can look at you biting your lip as you show off your body to him, he pumps his cock and bucks his hips against his hand until he cums far harder than he's used to. Dimitri especially gets a thrill out of the implied part of this- the fact that you wanted to flaunt yourself to him like this and made sure that he would linger on the sight of you.

- A very fun game is to comment or imply something about how good Dimitri fucks you while you're hanging out with his friends. He stammers and turns bright red when you mention how, "Oh don't you worry, Dimitri keeps me nice and satisfied, don't you babe?" with your eyebrows quirked playfully. His buddies nudge him and laugh, and as timid as he appears about it, he'll need you as soon as you're alone together, and he'll hold you extra close and pound into you a little harder than usual.

Claude:

- Alright. Claude is hot, and Claude knows he's hot, and he has no problem using this to his advantage. He'll absolutely send you gym selfies, or raunchy messages when he knows you're with friends or family. During minor disagreements or when you're pretending to be mad at him, he'll slip an arm around your waist and nibble at your ear, whispering, "C'mon babe, don't be like that..." before pulling you close and kissing you until you can't think straight.

- He absolutely doesn't care if people overhear you- in fact, he'll tease you about it, murmuring in your ear that you can't keep moaning for him like that or you'll be heard. But the fact that he's fucking into you harder and deeper as he says it tells you clearly that he wants you to cry out for him. In general, he's pretty shameless about your shared sex life if you allow him to be. He'll practically strut out of your room to clean up in just his boxers, not caring a bit if your roommates get an eyeful. He's handsy in public as well (again, depending on your comfort with it), and will absolutely grab a handful of your ass while you're on a date together, or trail his hand up your thigh during a movie.

- Claude is adventurous and open minded about sex in general, as I've mentioned a couple times. Hell, he'll even send you a porn clip or a bit of smut, along with a brief "we should try this ;)"- and he obviously loves when you do the same for him. He sees no reason to be shy with his partner about your mutual pleasure. Communicating your preferences will make sure you both enjoy yourselves, and the process of even talking about it can be pretty hot on its own.

#marianne von edmund #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #marianne x reader #dimitri x reader #claude x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #feh #fire emblem headcanons #modern au #fluff and smut #fire emblem x reader #x reader

[hskrealm]

innocence (m.)

pairing: drag racer yoongi x reader                     

genre: fluff, smutsmutsmut. (this post took a turn i swear)

word count: 3.2k

warnings: overstimulation, PET NAMES SO MANY PET NAMES WHAT WAS I THINKING, fingering, oral (f receiving), cute shit, virgin!reader, yoongi is a bit persuasive, etc.

summary: your best friend wants to take your innocence in every possible way.  

a/n: i wrote this MONTHS ago, and i literally forgot about it up until yesterday, or sometime before that? i was sad because I deleted it, but my bby @bitchyaus reblogged it after i posted it, and i have NEEEEVEEER been happier.

You hummed as you sat on your couch while scrolling through your social media feed and taking small bites of your favorite snack every now and then.

It was only 7:09. You’d usually find something to occupy yourself every day until 8:00 on the dot (although he’d come early sometimes, but that wasn’t often), which was when Yoongi would come knocking on your door with a new story to tell and to raid your fridge of whatever he could find.

If necessary, you’d tend to the few bruises his beautiful face would sport.

Once he was comfortable enough to tell you what his occupation was, you cringed the moment you imagined him sitting behind the wheel of a vehicle, pushing 200 to nearly 300 miles on a daily basis.

You begged him to consider something safer, to which he responded with a small smirk,

“I’ve been doing this years before I even met you. If I’ve managed to keep myself in good condition for this long, then I’m sure that you have nothing to worry about.”

This had become a repetitive cycle in the short year that you had known him. He’d shoot you a text before he went out for the day, and come speeding back to your place once he was let off of work.

Or–when he let himself off, rather. He never really was the type to follow rules anyway.

You smiled fondly at the thought of seeing his gummy smile sometime in the next hour.

You checked your phone again.

7:14.

Well, 46 minutes to be exact.

You sighed and tossed your head back against the couch cushions as you tried to register what about this man had you so whipped for him.

Could be the fact that he was a sweetheart when it came to you,

Or it could also be the fact that he looked so fucking hot driving those cars despite how much you hated seeing him behind the wheel.

Or, it could be that he had really, really pretty hands–

There was a loud knock at your door. It carried the same loudness that Yoongi’s carried.

Okay, you have really got to find yourself a hobby.

The person knocked twice, and then there was a three second pause before the last and final knock came.

You grinned as you rushed over toward the door.

There was his signature knock that he had given himself sometime a few weeks ago.

He suggested that he should have a special knock so you knew it was him, although you told him multiple times that no one other than him or your best friend came to visit.

He still wouldn’t let up even then, muttering something about how it would be the safest measure. You then (jokingly) proceeded to tell him he knew nothing about safety, which led him to tell you about all of the safety precautions people in his profession must take before even considering driving one of those high speed  cars.

He couldn’t take a joke, but that was alright. You loved him anyway.

You took a quick glance through the peephole just to make sure it was him before you unlocked the door.

As usual, he rushed in and threw his bag to the ground before making a beeline to your kitchen.

“Nice to see you too.” You smiled a bit, closing the door back and locking it behind yourself.

“I shouldn’t have to greet you anymore when I enter.” He spoke, although his voice was a bit muffled since he was bent over as he shuffled through your fridge.

“It’d be nice, though.” You sighed dramatically as you walked back over to your couch and flopped onto it.

“Sure.” He shrugged, returning from the kitchen to take his spot next to you on the couch as he always did.

“Hello, Princess.” He smirked, laughing at the way you rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

He’d called you that for forever now, and you’d be a terrible fucking liar if you were to say that it didn’t make your pussy clench.

He knew that it did, too, which was why he said it.

“Did you do something productive today?” He asked, as he took a bite out of one of the strawberries out of the bowl that he quickly prepared for himself.

“I did some school work earlier.” You shrugged, gesturing toward your closed laptop that sat on the arm of the couch closest to you.

He hummed, nodding approvingly.

“Good girl,” He noticed the way that your body shivered at his praise. He always talked like this, but for some reason it was really having an impact on you right now. 

“Have you eaten something filling today?” You bit your lip. 

You hadn’t had a ‘meal’, but you had some pretty filling snacks. You just weren’t in the mood to cook anything, or even order something.

There was no point in lying to him either, because he could see right through you.

“Depends on what the word filling means.” You responded, as if this wasn’t a question that he asked you everyday. 

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you and set the bowl of strawberries down on your coffee table before quickly reaching over your thighs to grab the bag of chips that you had been snacking on before his arrival.

His hand brushed over the exposed skin of your legs, causing you to gulp. He was always a forward person, but never this forward.

“This isn’t a meal, ____ . “ He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“I know, but I can promise you that I am satiated.” Yoongi shook his head in disbelief.

“You hungry?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he stared into your eyes with his arms crossed.

“Nope.” As if on cue, your stomach growled.

“Mhm.” He mocked, handing you the bowl of strawberries before standing up.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused as to why he was suddenly up on his feet.

“I’m about to cook you something, little girl.” He rolled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

“Yoongiiii-“

“In the mood for pasta? You’ve got all of the ingredients I’d need to make you some alfredo.” You groaned.

“My stomach growls all the time! I’m not hungry, I swear.” He was already pulling out pots and pans from your cupboards as your voice went through one ear and out of the other.

“Suck on those strawberries with those pretty lips of yours while I cook this, hm?” He said, leaning against the kitchen counter with his elbows resting against it.

“I don’t want the straw–”

“I already put the noodles in the pot, so you’re shit out of luck.”

———

Yoongi had been in the kitchen for half an hour while you caught up on your favorite Netflix series.

You should’ve just lied and said yes. He was going through way too much trouble for you.

“Alright,”  He began, as he finally left the kitchen.

“Should be good to eat in a few minutes.” He slid back onto the couch.

“Mind if I use your laptop to check my stats? I’m sure they’ve gone up.” He bragged. You playfully rolled your eyes and handed him your laptop, before directing your attention back to your TV.

Yoongi began typing away for a few minutes, until his fingers paused, his eyes grew wide, and he choked on air.

“What? Those stats not what you expected them to be?” You laughed, Yoongi turning his head to look at you before clicking on a tab at the top of the screen and pushing the laptop in your direction.

“What– Oh my God, give me that!” You yelled, Yoongi easily fighting off your efforts to grab the laptop away from him by shoving his arm against your chest.

“Are these your nudes?” He asked, although it was painfully clear that they were.

Yoongi smirked at the way you began to blush profusely.

Holy shit, you were going to die of embarrassment. 

‘Play it cool.’ You thought to yourself.

“Yeah? So what if they are?” You used this opportunity to snatch the laptop away from him and close the tab, before shutting the laptop off and setting it on the coffee table where the empty strawberry bowl was.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, taken aback by your response.

“Clearly you don’t seem to mind.” You smirked, gesturing to the bulge forming in his pants.

He dropped the smirk on his face as he inched closer to you. You reflexively backed away from him.

“You talk pretty big for a virgin, sweetheart.” He growled. Your stomach fell to the bottom of your ass at his words.

You weren’t sure of what to say.

“Uh, I never told—“

“You’d be surprised of what you tell me when you’re drunk.” He reached forward to twirl a strand of your hair around his pointer finger before tucking it behind your ear, as if he had done this to you before.

“Since we’re letting secrets go, you should know that I’ve thought about fucking you plenty of times.” He hummed, as he traced your jawline with his fingers.

“You haven’t got any idea of what thinking about stripping you of your innocence does to me, sweetheart.”

Your chest began to rise and fall rapidly.

“I know that you’d let me, too.” He slowly pushed you backward until your back hit the couch.

“You would let me, wouldn’t you?” He looked into your eyes, waiting for your approval before he took anything further.

You thought about it.

Did you really want to lose your virginity to this sexy drag racer that you’ve grown to become best friends with over the past year?

Hell yes.

“Yes, yes I’d let you.” You stuttered, causing him to groan at your admittance. 

He was going to corrupt you more and more day by day before you even realized it.

And fuck, he couldn’t wait.

“Hmm.” He hummed against your skin, as he nudged your head to the side so he could expose the skin of your neck.

He quickly began to suck love bites against the skin, eager to cut straight to the chase in order to get a taste of that perfect cunt that was spread wide in that picture.

“How far have you gone, baby?” He asked, as he tugged your shirt up over your chest and kissed his way around your breasts.

“I–I’ve, fuck,” You moaned, as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.

“I’m sorry, you’ve done what?” He mumbled against your hardening bud. You whimpered.

“I-I’ve masturbated with a toy.” Yoongi detached his mouth from your nipple.

“That’s all?” You nodded shyly.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He hungrily kissed down the rest of your body, stopping right above the band of your shorts.

“I’ve got to taste you to get you prepared to take me. Is that alright?” He wasn’t lying. It would help you adjust to his size a bit easier, but it was mostly for his own personal pleasure.

You nodded, and he wasted no time in tugging down your shorts and panties in one swift motion. 

“Oh my God.” He nearly whimpered at the sight of your untouched pussy. You began to close your legs as he stared down at your most intimate areas, which prompted him to roughly throw one of your legs over the back of the couch so you were forced to keep yourself spread for him.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He warned. You nodded, murmuring an apology as he laid himself flat against the couch and pulled your hips closer to his face.

He breathed shakily against your core. You began to writhe in his hold as his cool breath hit your exposed pussy lips.

“Are you sure about this, baby? We could stop this at any moment.” He asked for the final time. It made you smile that he continued to ask you if this was really what you wanted.

“I’m sure. Please–oh, shit!” You yelped. Yoongi hadn’t even let you finish your sentence before he had his lips wrapped around your clit.

Your hands hesitantly tangled in his hair, as you were uncertain if he was okay with you touching him or not.

He sensed your hesitation and moaned in approval as you testingly tugged at his blonde locks.

His moan vibrated against your core, causing you to buck your hips up toward his face.

He grunted at this, using one of his arms to pin you down to the couch by your stomach, while his other arm pushed your flailing leg away from his face so he had more access to his meal.

“So good, baby. So fucking good,” He growled into you, his cock growing harder underneath him as more of your juices began to gush onto his face.

You didn’t know how it was possible, but he managed to pull you even closer to him as he licked a long stripe from your dripping hole back up to your clit, before he dipped his tongue inside of your clenching cunt and (quite literally) fucked you with his tongue.

You were a mess above him, your hair matted and stuck to your sweaty forehead as you relished in the feeling of his tongue collecting every drop of your arousal.

“‘M gonna cum, so fucking close, please please–” You begged him with your eyes closed. He took a glance up at you, wanting to watch you come undone on his tongue.

“SHIT!” You screamed, the euphoric bliss of your first orgasm knocking the wind out of you.

Yoongi hummed and pulled his tongue out of you, slipping two of his fingers into his mouth before lining them up with your cunt.

“You with me, babygirl?” He asked. You opened your eyes so you could see him, but you immediately closed them again ad he slid his digits into your wet hole.

“Ughh, oh my fucking God!” You let out a broken moan, tears welling in your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Hey, you’re okay, hm? I need to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible if you’re still willing to take my cock.” His words were caring, although there was a bit of cockiness behind them, almost as if he knew that you still would be in at least some pain from the stretch.

The thought alone excited him.

“Just a little bit more, okay? Hold out for me.” You were about to protest, when he pressed his hand against your lower stomach and began to piston his fingers in and out of you like a machine. 

He curled them perfectly against that little spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling toward the back of your head, and your toes curling in pleasure.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you came for the second time within a five minute span.

Yoongi left you to yourself for a moment as he hastily tugged his jeans down, not wanting to waste time to pull them off completely. 

He was so eager to have your little cunt pulsing around him.

He fished around in his back pocket for a condom. He was thanking himself mentally for forgetting to take it out the last time he wore those jeans a few weeks ago.

“Could you be a doll and roll this on for me, baby?” He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and quickly tossed it aside as he handed you the slippery thing.

You took it with shaky hands, still not completely over your last two orgasms as you gently grabbed his cock and spread the condom over it.

“Oh, fuck.” He growled, the feeling of your little hand spreading over his throbbing dick enough to make him cum right there.

He desperately needed to be inside of you.

He grabbed his cock and began to rub circles around your clit, the small action making you gasp for air because of how sensitive you already were.

“Think you can still handle me?” You looked up at him. He wasn’t smirking, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Mhm, j-just please, be gentle.” You whimpered, and Yoongi nodded as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

For now.

He pushed just the tip into you, instantly catching your lips with his to prevent any sound of discomfort from leaving your mouth.

“Ready for some more?” He asked sweetly, as he pressed his forehead against yours. You winced, but nodded anyway.

He pushed the rest of his cock into you inch by inch, attempting to nullify the pain a bit by leaving kisses along the side of your neck and jaw.

“You’re taking me so well, ____.” He sat still for a moment, letting you adjust before he rocked his hips slightly.

He looked at you for approval, and when you nodded once he began to set a slow, steady rhythm with the pace of his thrusts.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, I can barely fit my cock through.” You weren’t sure what it was about the way that he was talking to you, but it just made you clench around him even harder as he began to pick up speed.

“I need you to cum with me, Princess. Can you do that for me?” You nodded eagerly, already on the brink of insanity.

He licked his thumb and brought it down to your clit. You squeaked, and he grunted above you as he tried to ease himself inside of you without hurting you.

“Now, cum now.” He ordered, his arms shaking as he held himself up above you to prevent from collapsing on top of your chest.

You came with your mouth held open in a silent moan, your legs spasming around Yoongi’s waist as he slowly pulled out of you.

The corruption was only beginning.

“Hungry? I’m sure the food is plenty cool now.” You laughed breathlessly at his lame joke, as you covered your face with your hands while trying to catch your breath.

“I’ll go grab some for you, but I’ve got a question for you first.” He paused. “No, wait, two actually.” You glanced at him.

“Go for it.” You said, voice hoarse.

“Would you let me take you out sometime? I mean, on a real date?” You scoffed.

“I thought you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend or something.” You laughed. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was.” You froze.

“I backed out, though.”

“I mean, I would’ve said yes.” He snapped his head toward you.

“You would have?” You nodded, a small smile on your face.

“In that case, will you be my girlfriend, then?” You giggled at his shy demeanor, a complete 180 from how he handled you just a few minutes ago.

“Yes, I will.” He leaned down to peck your cheek.

“My last question...”

“Yeeeees?” You encouraged him to continue.

“Why are your nudes on your laptop anyway?”

“I hate you.”

tag list! let me know if you want to be on it. (you could send me a message, an ask, or just comment under this fic)

@bitchyaus @dontaskshhhhh @taesluttt @1-in-abillion @designjet @peachy-bhun @patpus @koracynthia120 @safi4x @lcnycto @someonewhowannadielol @dreamingsmile @rinastylesworld @fan-ati--c @sincemalik @bts-bay-bee @cestlaviecia @jeonjungkookiiee @bunny-kix03

#blkjmn #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi au #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi au

[thejudgingtrash]

would you class percy as a morally grey character? i’m really interested to hear your input

Anon 2: Would u class percy as an Morally Gray character?

Hey there! Let me write that essay for you about morally gray Percy ^^

It’s not about whether Percy is a morally gray character or not, it’s about he has to be otherwise the story doesn’t make any sense. At least for me it wouldn’t.

Ashley (@gr33kg0ds) said in the tags of my dark!Percy post something along the line of people diminishing Percy’s character because they need him to be pure and fluffy and I wholeheartedly agree with that!

Just because Percy’s twelve doesn’t mean he’s pure and didn’t do unproblematic things. I’ll mostly refer to The Lightning Thief because that book is the Magnus Opus for Riordan and perfectly stands for Percy as a morally gray character from the very beginning of the saga. (Also the only book I’ve recently re-read)

As much as I love fanon with all the amazing artworks, debates, memes and jokes, analysis, cool edits and wonderful fanfics, projecting your version of Percy doesn’t make the image in your head real. Percy in canon is not the fun and fluffy boy you imagine him to be or which social media sites (Reddit, Twitter, Instagram and yes, also Tumblr) tend to make him to be. He’s a scrawny little sarcastic twerp that was the unpopular kid. He isn’t that cringy dude Tony Lopez doing that fucking weird TikTok dance (side note: I don’t even know who this person is and I don't care, I saw the video and immediately wanted to delete every social media app on my phone, so thanks Tony?), kissing his Yeezys goodnight, vibing to our lord and gay icon Taylord “T. Swizzle” Swift song and flexing them iPhone 11 Max Pros. Percy literally said that going to Burger King with his mother once in a while would be considered a luxury. He’s a poor bastard in literal sense.

Part of the problem with the distinction of Percy’s character and his motives stem from the fact that Percy is a sneaky unreliable narrator and we as the audience (especially if you’re younger) don’t question most of his behavior if you even question some (pretty sure that most of us only picked up weird stuff as adults). Everything seems plausible to you. But does it mean that his behavior is necessarily good? Something that would paint his character as good?

Like I’ve said, let’s take a look at TLT. The very beginning of everything and the wonderful line that gets quoted everywhere: “Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood”. 

The very first line that quoted everywhere or used as in moodboard and edits but its meaning and significance get brushed off for the most part. It immediately sets the tone and the atmosphere for the book and for Percy as a character. A(n in my opinion) morally gray character. The very first thing we hear from Percy is that he doesn’t want to be in this world. He’s an involuntary participant who has been (upon further reading) blackmailed and forced into this world and is only cooperating to get his mother back and said in regards to his father (who also stands for the Greek pantheon) ”well yeah, would be nice to know about my dad but I’ve survived without him the past twelve years so I don’t know, he wouldn’t be missed necessarily I guess?“ That pretty much tells you, it foreshadows, that we will be dealing with someone with grit, someone that fights back, someone that went through shit, someone that isn’t a goody two-shoed character. Does it mean he’s a terrible (in the sense of evil or bad) character from the get go? Not really, but it tells you in nuances that he won’t be the white shining knight you might expect from a fairy tale.

There is so much that little Perseus Jackson has to offer you directly in the first book. So much that paints him as a morally gray character. From the illegal candy stash all the way to tricking Procrustes into his own trap. He knows right from wrong and isn’t innocent by any means. He wants you to think he’s innocent. Yes, he hunts monsters and the book also tells you that some adults (Gabe) can also be monsters, but Percy’s personality is so interesting and full of facets which I love! He’s misleading you on purpose. Deflects, plays events down. He lies in front of you to others but you don’t really doubt it. Instead of questioning it, you understand it.

What distinguishes Percy from other male protagonists in that notion that the author doesn’t try to paint him as particularly good (the reader connects the dots, in reality) is pretty much that. Percy is neither inherently good or bad. He’s in the middle. He does lots of questionable things and his personality adds to it. Something that immediately comes to my mind is his lack of fear of consequences. He thinks in the short term and not in the long term. Of course, he’s caring about those that are close and important to him (Grover, Annabeth and his mother of course. And well. The world not getting destroyed by his weird father and fucking crazy uncle would be a plus). But Percy isn’t really a strategist (yet). Look at the Medusa head thingy. Annabeth and Grover warn him, that he’s gonna get his ass beat and he doesn’t care. That these gods could squish him in the end didn’t matter to him.

The Olympian gods are painted as these unpenetrable huge mighty force and some fuzzy annoyed twelve year old dipshit sends them the severed head of a monster - but not any monster, the monster his father had a role in creating (well, Athena for the most part, but you know what I mean). (Also, I know this kinda reckless behavior gets sorta rewarded but at first, everyone was like ‘NO, NO, NO!’ before Percy was glorious with his attempt). Percy essentially tells these ancient forces that drive the way of his new cosmos how shit‘s gonna work from now on.

Percy isn’t fear riddled and doesn’t think about the possible outcome. He manipulates, he lies, he persuades and all of this as soon as he hits twelve. But probably earlier. Pretty sure he had to become a believable lier in order to trick (survive being around) Gabe. Perseus is angry, he’s agitated. Had Riordan written Percy as a soft spoken, frightened, goody two-shoed kid, almost nothing in TLT and the follow-ups would have made sense. He’s the outcast, but slowly blossoms into the strength and muscles of the group. Of the entire camp. Someone that outsmarts opponents and wins battles. But he didn’t do that by playing nice and being a bootlicker.

TLT would’ve been a perfect standalone book that would have emphasized that Percy is an involuntary person sive) if you skip Kronos, leave a little bit foreshadowing with the prophecy out, tweak the talks with the gods and Annabeth’s first meeting and skip Luke and the scorpion at the end. The ending would’ve been “and so Percy had a first awesome summer vacation and found a group of friends for life” or so (aka PJO movie 1 in less shitty and more cohesive).

The morally gray character shrinks a little bit in the SOM because there lie straighter dangers ahead which dive more into the bigger picture and Percy grows more into the character who takes care of friends and but he does come back with TTC, and definitely BOTL and the St. Helens explosion.

Consequences of Percy’s interactions had people partially dying. There is doubt, there is guilt. But the show must go on. There are battles that have to be won. There is no big giving up, no big overturn for the bad guys.

Also... isn’t it interesting that we start with Percy saying ”look, I don’t want to be in this world“ in TLT and it ends with TLO where he says ”for once I didn’t look back“? The full circle? The way that accepting his fate took five books? To change Percy from being an involuntary participant to becoming voluntary? He didn’t want to be a half-blood, he didn’t want to be the kid in the prophecy, but he actively chose to be in the end. He went from a darker shade of gray to a mayhaps lighter, if you want to say so.

To conclude, I repeat myself again: it’s not about whether Percy is a morally gray character or not, it’s that he has to be.

Thanks for asking me about some meta stuff I really do like diving into these things here and there. Tumblr’s sorta glitchy, I do get notifications but I really don’t see asks, so I’m sorry if my response is mad late ^^

#mel answers #pjo #Percy Jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #the lightning thief #rick riordan #the last olympian

[scandeniall]

Let’s Make a Song

Pairing: rnbsinger!atsumu x rnbsinger!reader

Summary/warnings: ur long term on again off again bf Atsumu wants to do your first song together. Thing is you’re currently off/honestly just cursing. 1 tiny implied nsfw sentence. Literally 1

the 2nd piece in rnb!haikyuu bc why tf not. Other

a/n: The song that’s written is change by Arin Ray & Kehlani (that’s also the cover art mentioned later)

Wc: 2.8K

When your manager relayed the invitation to collaborate with Atsumu you were rather surprised. He didn’t do many new collaborations, reserving those for people he’d worked with in the past. Then there was the fact that he hadn’t asked you personally. The two of you were more than acquainted and he definitely had your phone number. But then again it’d been months since you’d last had any contact.

The two of you had been on and off again for the larger part of your careers, meeting in high school and building a friendship for years. A year after graduation you’d decided to make the switch from friendship to relationship. And it worked. The two of you both wanted to pursue music and understood one another. You were one another’s number one fan, muse, and confidant as you grew in popularity.

He’d gotten signed before you but neither of you thought it would change things. Then he started being around less and less getting busy recording his first studio album while you continued to work independently. He’d still come back to you at the end of the night. However that was short lived thus bringing about the first of many splits over the years. It was mutual—things were too busy to give the love someone deserved.

During that first split you’d ended up getting signed yourself. In only a few months you were immediately thrusted into the same professional world as Atsumu and that brought the two of you back together. He’d seen the announcement post on social media and paraded over to yours that night rambling about the betrayal of you not telling him you were in talks with a label. He’d bought over dinner and the two of you got back to talking consistently and rekindled in mere weeks.

That had been at 19. Now at 23 the two of you were still a roller coaster. You’d broken up for a number of reasons over the years. Busy schedules, his ego, your attitude, internet rumors mixed with poor communication, poor timing, you name it. Yet the two of you always found your way back like magnets.

You weren’t quite sure what you expected when you agreed to doing a song with Atsumu, who you were currently off with. In all your years, the two of you had never done a song together. Sure you’d fucked around with writing a few times but neither of you ever used any of those songs. You two had different styles, him focusing more on heavy bass, and reminiscent on the SoundCloud style. Meanwhile you were more soulful and melodic.

You hadn’t even so much as texted atsumu in like three months So of course it was a surprise when you made your way to his for a writing session to see the lyrics he’d already come up with. Lyrics that just by the way he read them to you, were clearly about you.

you’ve got me all in my feelings And I know you get tired of running You stole my heart and I mean it When we break up, can’t wait to make up

“That’s all I got so far,” he sighed leaning back on the couch next to you. “What do ya think”

“It’s different from your usual shit. It’s softer.” You ignore the scoff he sends you and sit back on the couch before he starts complaining. “But I like it. What was the inspiration.” You’re not even sure why you asked. Maybe it was the desire to have confirmation that you really have been the one all these years. There was still a chance it could’ve been someone else

“And you say yer the smart one between us,” is all he says before grabbing his laptop off the coffee table. “I got this beat too. Suna sent it over this morning and I think I wanna use it.” You choose to ignore his confirmation as you begin to get comfortable against the couch. He plays the instrumental and it only further surprises you from just how different it was from his usual. It was undoubtedly more your style and you're almost offended that your friend hadn’t sent you the beat instead. “Ya like it?”

“Could you play it back.” You begin to hum along a few nonsensical words to yourself and you’re aware of Atsumu’s eyes on you. He watches as you hit the voice record on your phone, already aware that you do that in case you say something that you like. You try to think back to what he started with and He moves his notebook closer to you so you can get a better view of the words messily scribbled.

You can’t keep coming and going In and out of my life please make up your fucking mind I give you time and you kill it

Immediately after that he pauses much to your annoyance and ignores your complaint. “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Sounds like yer replying back. Like a conversation,” he nods. “Is that really how ya feel about me?” You don’t miss the way he tries to subtly put his arm around the back of the couch and subsequently you. And your laugh.

“God you’re annoying Atsumu.” You end up caving, moving the laptop back to the table in front of you and moving under his waiting arm. You can’t even deny the way you like it either, comforted by the way his hand rubs up and down your arm. “Is that how you feel about us,” you challenge referring to the lyrics he’d come up with

“Course. I look forward to making up ya know.” He chuckles and the look of faux disgust you send him before continuing. “But I mean it. Ya got my heart and have for years.” The words are paired with a kiss to your temple.

You two sit in silence for a few moments before you break it with a sigh. “I’m tired of this shit Tsumu. It’s been years of us and this and the older I get, the more draining it is. I wonder all the time if I should stay or just leave for good.” It’s the first time you’ve ever admitted it to anyone other than yourself, and it’s to the person that has the power to break your heart at any given moment. The only small comfort is that you know it’s mutual and that you hold his as well.

“If you’re tired then write it out (Y/N). It’s part of the reason I asked ya to do a song.” He nudges you to sit up and catches your eye. “I think about ya way too fucking much and I’ve thought about if shit between us was worth it too.” He looks like he’s in through for a moment before quickly grabbing his notebook scribbling for a minute before showing you.

thinking of you is all I do honestly I might go insane cause when we break up can’t wait to make up Some things will never change

He’s playing the instrumental before you can say anything waiting until a certain part and signaling for you to just wait. Then his voice softly fills your ears as he goes into the words and points at you to follow up with what you’d sung before. As you near the end you gesture for him not to stop it yet

It’s very personal to me That you give it everything Should I stay? Should I go? Should I leave? I don't know.

After that your mind blanks and you reach over to pause the track. It felt good. Really good. “I think I have my verse,” you exclaim. “And what if we repeat your part. Maybe starting from thinking of you” you half mumble the words already writing away at your own notebook. You don’t even notice the look Atsumus giving you until you look back up minutes later after humming along and trying to string the words together. “What”

“It’s nothin. Just love watching ya write that’s all.” You end up shooting him a soft smile before focusing back on the words in front of you. “Actually, this beat is more you than me so did ya wanna do the bridge”

That causes you to look up in confusion. “Are you sure? It’s your song. It’d be weird for me to have a bigger part?” Atsumu is brushing off the question of you asking him to be serious. You didn’t want to step on any toes or offend anyone.

“If it’s that big a deal to ya we can go back n forth or somthin’.” His eyes question yours for a moment before smiling in victory at your agreeing. “Besides, Suna was gonna send it to ya anyways. Paid him to let me have it instead. Didn’t take much just-Ow!” HES quickly cut off by your fist coming into contact with his shoulder. “Why’d ya-“

“You’re an ass, did you know that,” you roll your eyes in response. No wonder the beat was so different from his usual. Because the track wasn’t meant for him. You’d have to bitch at Suna later for giving the track to Atsumu of all people. And for who knows what kind of lowball offer it was. “Wanna tell me why you did that. Or I can leave. Your choice” you’re closing your notebook at this point shifting away from him a bit.

“I missed ya.” It’s the only thing he says before your scoffing and getting off the couch and starting to gather your things.  “I’m serious (Y/N).” The feeling of his hand grabbing at yours causes you to stop. “I kept thinking about us and couldn’t Bring myself to text. I got Suna to give me the track cause I wanted to see ya and talk.”

“Why couldn’t you just text?”

“I can say it better in a song. And I know you can too. Now c’mon don’t go alright?” You allow him to tug you back down onto the couch with a sigh. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. You’d wanted to settle things between you both once and for all for a while now. He just provided the opportunity. You both needed to know if you were just wasting time.

“Listen. If ya wanna talk about it outside of the song let’s go for a drive then.”

“First you steal my beat to get me to come over, now you wanna trap me in a car with you?” Atsumu only looks at you unbothered before you sigh. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“If it’s that bad, you know how to tuck and roll. I might slow down enough.” —-

“Atsumu what are we doing,”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance before responding. “Driving.” When you don’t reply he lets out a sigh before giving a real answer. “Do you still love me?”

“Yes,” it’s like you answer before your brain even ponders the question. “Do you still love me?”

“Wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t.” His words are just as confident. He shoots you a quick glance before continuing. “I wanna get back together. For good this time. Heard about yer date with that Semi guy.”

Your breath hitches for a moment. While you’re not surprised that he knew about the date last month, you didn’t think he’d mention it. You’d woken up the morning after notifications crazy. Pictures of the two of you filled them and many of the tweets had actually tagged Atsumu as well.

“We weren’t together so ya don’t have to go explaining anything,” he stops you from your attempt at an apology. “Of course i'm not sure what ya saw in that guy. But it made me realize that yer the one I want. Always been the one.” He shrugs before the hand closest to you comes to rest on your thigh. “And I’ve always been the one for you too right?”

“Are you serious about wanting to make us work this time?” His hand leaves your leg for the wheel again and you watch in confusion as he makes a few sudden turns. He mutters something about giving him a few minutes before pulling into a random parking lot. He shuts the car off before unbuckling so he can turn his entire body to face you. “What are you doing Atsumu?”

“Move in with me.” You’re looking at him like he’s grown another head before he continues. “My lease with Samu is almost up and he’s been wanting to move closer to his shop and I wanna be closer to a studio. I’m serious about us and I just think-“

“Would you actually help with boxes or just sit on your ass and watch?”

The questions cause him to frown a bit in thought and you can’t help but laugh as he actually interprets the words and what they really mean. You could tell the exact moment he gets it and a lazy smirk settles on his face instead. “No promises babe. I kinda like watching ya walk away.”

The way his face eased closer to yours had you following his lead until your lips met. You can feel yourself smiling as one of his hands comes to cup your jaw. The kiss is sweet, lips moving slowly against yours in a reunion of sorts. “Stay over tonight we can work on the song again tomorrow.” He pulls away just enough to insist, resting his forehead against yours.

“Already told Samu so he’s bringing enough dinner home. And I got a new toothbrush in the bathroom.”You lean to peck his lips before sitting back in the seat. “You knew this would happen didn’t you.” Despite the accusation you find yourself agreeing with no hesitation.

“I hoped. It’s a difference babe. If not, more food for me” his hand quickly grabs yours to place a kiss on your own before settling back on the wheel. “Let’s get back I’m starvin”

—— “Are yer eyes closed? Are you sure? Don’t peek-“

“Hurry up Atsumu,” you groan as you allow him to lead you to god knows where. The song you’d guys finished a few weeks ago was set to release in a few hours and Atsumu refused to let you see the song cover. It was a surprise, or so he told you every time you tried to ask. Even in his new song tease on twitter he just posted blank images. New song with a surprise guest coming soon ;)

He’d had you meet him at his label and jumped on you the second you stepped into the building blindfold in hand and stupid grin on his face. “Don’t act like this is a new thing for ya,” he’d whisper in your ear as he tied the blindfold and laughed when you attempted to hit at him and miss.

“Stop complaining before I make you wait until the songs officially out. We’re almost there” you feel his hand leave yours before it’s placed on your back. You can hear a door open before he instructs you in. “Small step up.” With your restricted sight your hearing has seemed to increase tenfold. You can hear the sound of blinds opening and him moving around. “One second babe.”

After a few more moments and complaints for him to hurry up a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Leaning into the warmth you feel his lips kiss up your neck before stopping. “You can look now.”

It takes a moment for your eyes to spot it. First your eyes dart around the room to see nothing out of the ordinary save for a table with a champagne bottle. Then one of his arms points toward the window and you freeze in shock. “Atsumu is this?” You turn to look at him expectedly as he nods and pushes you near it. From the window of the building you see the cover art plastered on a billboard.

“Where did you find that?”

Atsumu’s voice grows closer as he stops next to you. “Our mom came down a while ago. Had some shit to deliver and brought some scrapbooks. It was in there.” You nod in understanding before he continues. “Ya like it?”

The picture was one from years ago. He’d just gotten signed and that weekend you and a few friends went on a road trip to celebrate. That particular picture had been taken on a Polaroid as you two were outside supposedly star gazing. On the mountain of blankets it was clear that his attention was more on you than the sky. It was one of your favorite pictures for a while then eventually you had broken up (for the first time) and it was long forgotten.

“Love it. Brings back memories you know?” You don’t even notice he’d gone to pour you a glass before he's dangling off in front of your face.

“Here’s to our first song together babe”

bonus things

yall actually filmed a music vid (this isnt included bc i am only now finding out theres a mv despite having this song in my music for a year)

he tweets the song link with “decided to stay”

atsumu ends up buying suna a ps5 game he wanted as a thank you (not w/o complaining though)

ppl on the internet arent even surprised that yall are back together (theyre tired too tf)

atsumu ends up putting that polaroid in his clear phone case <3

this is yall 6th time getting back together (yall keep trying HUH lmfao. but yall never actually ended on bad terms and always stayed friend)

you end tweeting a joke “ok last time yall i promise LMFAO”

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #rnb!hq #im starting a tag for it i guess LMFAO #its almost 3 am time for my usual post and dip mwah see yall next year #atsumu imagine

[betweentheracks]

can you tell us what your credentials are and what sort of studies/coursework did you have to take up to get to your position? and, if not too personal, what your day to day work life might look life in and out awards seasons or other big ticket events your clients might need styled for?

This is long and rambling, I do apologize. 

Regarding coursework and education routes into becoming a pro stylist, the thing is that there isn’t necessarily a need for a specific type of education. You could literally drop school and strive for success by the grit of your teeth and iron will alone if you really want and still could gain great acclaim. It isn’t exactly common but it does happen if you strike upon fortunate circumstances and garner experience wherever possible to form the base of your portfolio and profile which will later shape your reputation. 

As it is, most studios and clients do tend to give more consideration to those that come from an academic qualifications and learning. While experience if the foreground on which all stylists (and any other set of industry workers) tread, having the support and security of studying styles and fashion and marketing and all manner of related blather gives a sense of merit and provides opportunities for your to be selected for a job despite a lack of reputation or experience. The best stylists fall from both trees and the worst do as well; there is no guaranteed recipe for success in this field as fashion itself is too fluid in expression to be quantified. 

As for what I did; I had hands in both pots and have the educational background that assures I know what I am doing in terms of textual/technical understanding as well as experience from moments of pure luck compounded by my audacious efforts. I have a Bachelor’s compromised of fashion merchandising, fashion retailing, marketing, and visual arts. I took side courses at a fashion technical institute with a more tailored program that catered to the fundamentals of fit, body (and measurements) assessment, design and trends, media styling, and fashion industry principles. Additionally I did half a semester of social skills in a business. From there I went on to snatch up an internship and spent a bit more than a year being a shadow of the stylists for the company I work for before grasping a golden chance to become notable and step beyond that restricted role. I also have the certifications of AICI CIC and AICI CIP with hopes to one day finally snag the coveted AICI CIM (respectively; certified image consultant, certified image professional, certified image master).

I had friends that have worked in and out of this end of the industry and knew from the jump that I wanted to pad my portfolio with the safety net provided by academia and use it to bridge the gaps in my experience early on. I figured if I had the knowledge of how to deal with the business side of things as well as the styling side then I was a bit more valuable and, worst case, could go be a consultant or advisor for retailers or big wig company heads. As it is, the only reason I have any clout to my name at all is due to my internship - it paved over all the potholes in the road I was on and has been very favorable, but not everyone is as fortunate as I have been and this is not an easy path to undertake and forge into a career with any real sense of stability or security. Freelance stylists have a completely different struggle despite the majority coming from similar backgrounds as myself. 

Now, onto the daily scope and specs of wardrobe styling ~

Please take into consideration that I am an admitted workaholic/perfectionist/overachiever within the boundaries of my work. I’m quite lazy in almost every other sense of living and make existing seem like a wreck and I’m the one driving the struggle-bus that caused it, but for the job I have I am a supremely different breed (though still a lunatic). So yeah, I do a lot more than most would in my position and it is actually something that my company head both loves and hates and is rumored to be writing a clause for all employees regarding allowable working methodology due to the sheer amount of paperwork I alone generate. I am the hazard of our company, but I am also an asset. 

Anyway, I start most of my days with a lot of reading through emails that range from client comments and commands to vendors looking to use my company or clientele to bolster their credibility, to brands extending offers of product usage for marketing and campaigning reasons, and a variety of back and forths between me and the PAs or clerks of photographers, other studios, and fashion houses. Next comes hours of phone calls and reviewing schedules to ensure there is no intersections between client-oriented event slots. For one photoshoot I typically spend 3-4 weeks on the semantics of lighting quality and set features and then the rest of the time is dedicated to wardrobe and piecing out however many styles are called for, and then usually adding in at least 2 extras just for good measure. There's so many meetings my butt goes numb and touching base with the other members of my glam teams to reaffirm that we are all working on tandem and on the same page as far as vision goes. I sometimes have a turn in taking care of a new trainee or intern that is wandering our workplace like a fawn on clumsy legs and have questionable instincts.

When it comes to pulling apparel to make up sets, I have been known to be in the rack rooms and show rooms and fashion archives for over 7 hours a day. Our archivists know me as personally as I know my assistants and friends from how often I am in there territory and have to rely on their hardwork and favor. I spend days doing this until I have what I need and then dedicate every bit of my attention designing and creating looks which is another 5+ hours of one day, over the course of many. I have had days where I have been at work for 16 or 17 hours before I realize it, which is why I am such a thorn in my boss’ ass and often told to take a day off or get sent home midway through the morning - my hours alone could have business bureaus raising their eyebrows at the legality of my working hours. (This is cranked to max when shows and events are in the schedule; Awards Season is a nightmare and tours are the bastard offspring of Hell actually. The amount of hours put in are truly horrific). 

Also worth mentioning for the sake of perspective is that my job is as expansive as my clients allow; if they request me for one of their various activities in the public eye or in media, if available, I am obligated to prioritize their needs above the projects that my company has assigned to me as per our contract and am expected to either find a replacement or delegate to my assistant and apprentice when possible. The opposite is also true: if my clients have a light workload or are on break from their careers, I am typically doing the busy work of in-studio tasks or tracking rising trends and other features of the fashion forecast. I also host a multitude of temporary contracts with all manner of clientele from brand ambassadors to photographers to celebrities to commercial shoots & services. These jobs come upon official requests made through the company and then negotiated into the terms of how short the working schedule will be, what work I will be undertaking, and an assessment of skills vs revenue to maintain a balance of my time as a professional being properly valued within the sad decline of styling budgets before it will be officially taken on in my name. For these I tend to make better use of my status and hand off most of the project unless I am specifically needed. I make appearances as necessary but am mostly an advisor rather than the producer, instead focusing on my exclusive clients all while staying keyed in so that the work isn't below standard. This is all a badly kept secret of my company and myself - the clients do typically know and accept this is how I handle things in general and are aware that they are paying for an absent role of by way of my name/credentials unless they specify otherwise. There have been times when a side job like this has more prestige than all the years of my experiences combined could generate which ostensibly is treated with much more care and most of my other work pauses in deference to this. 

Being a stylist, especially a wardrobe AND fashion stylist, is just so much I don't think I could fully capture the scale of it for a proper index of what we do. 

In short, I don't have routine days. I have days that are at the beck and call of a workload that changes at the drop of a pin or the half digit uptick that dictates the emergence of a new trend or the downwind of when a trend skews into becoming mainstream. I can be paced out and looking at a light day at my desk and suddenly be crammed into a pitch meeting or called out to a set. I've also spent many days lounging on the sofa in a client's dressing room playing on my phone and cracking jokes with the glam team as we wait for our client to return between performance takes. And then there are days when I only go into work for our weekly meeting and review before heading back home. It's constant and consuming and sometimes I can't catch my breath before I'm shoved into the show room under a daunting time crunch because an entire ensemble has been misplaced or ruined. Just a matter of days before I was felled by COVID-19 I was having a nap during a photoshoot which I had already fulfilled my purpose and had no further need to participate in.

The reality is that I spend the majority of my time carving out a balance of my work life not superseding my time dedicated to being with my son and making sure he knows no matter what, he is above my hectic career always.

#racks asks

[walaw717]

When I was a child, the first love, after my family and dog, was the west. It is a story I have told before - a road trip to Colorado when I was ten years old. That love remains, though it is confusing at times to now drive east to regain the west. For me, the west was and still is that area that begins at the dryline, which runs from Texas into Canada and separates a predominately green Earth from a sepia-toned prairie that runs to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Now, living to the West of those Mountains, my internal compass is confused.

But the feeling of home does grow. In the afternoon, as I drove east from my work in downtown Spokane, I saw a storm moving over the tops of the mountains toward the valley. It was a beautiful sight as the setting sun reflected off dark clouds rolling over the peaks and into the Columbia plateau. After the storm passed, it left caps of snow on the mountains. Here in the valley, it was in the seventy-degree range.

There is a myth at large that the Spokane - Cour d’Alene corridor in the valley is that we are being swamped by people fleeing California and the far west coast. Yes, people are moving here, and the area is growing, but the housing shortage has been artificial, and though the valley is filling with people, it is not the breakneck pace the media would like us to believe. Many people are holding on to their houses and not selling. As a realtor told me yesterday, in a small market like Couer d’Alene of about 60,000, a slight increase in population can seem like a massive flood. She also said that many properties are being bought by outside investors from China. Even before the pandemic, the market was tight. She also said that in the past, Californians move after one or two winters. It is not as cold as Montana, but it does get cold and very snowy.

This move has had a positive effect on me. I have been busy, and we have been slow to unpack. I have avoided the “news” media on the web as well as social media. Doing so has allowed me to find my center as a human being. I have realized that frustration over involvement with social media and politics allowed me to make an ass of myself and spend my time striking out like a wounded animal. I moved into a very dark and unkind place. If even half of what is going on with “woke” culture is authentic, the country is going to hell in a shopping cart, and I am better off not getting involved until the shooting starts.

When I have checked the “news,” I don’t find so much “news” as a lot of opinion pieces written by a lot of people I probably would not choose to share a cup of coffee with. Frankly, what passes as news is manipulation. I am quickly concluding that the major fault of big tech media is that too few people own and control the information, too many people have a forum to express an opinion, and too few people are really sharing information – pretty much like I just did.

Who cares what “Joe or Jane Dirt” has to say? I prefer what the trees and the red-shouldered hawk told me yesterday. They make much more sense.

Driving home from work and into the Douglas fir-covered hills has helped as well. The change in scenery and climate has improved my arthritis and the depression that Seattle brought on to me.

I continue to work through Edmund Morris’ Theodore Rex. It is a massive book and reads like a novel detailing almost day by day Roosevelt’s presidency. Some parts describe the presidency hour by hour. For all his genius, I am not sure Roosevelt is someone I would want to have coffee with either. I find myself wanting to diagnose him; his behaviors are so extreme. Other than hyperactive, I can think of nothing that fits. But I am trying to read this biography without filling myself with opinions about the man. What he accomplished is remarkable. I have had neither the level of genius nor the drive for power and fame he appears to have had. I guess that is why I am not a president.

But I do share his love of the west. I also share his passion for the core values of integrity, courage, and honor. I think many more people have that passion than the current writings and speeches of academics and politicians we are inundated with will admit too.

The day has broken now over the “Western” mountains to my east. I will be moving things into storage and soon begin the process of sorting and disposing of many things I only thought I needed. I do believe I have finally found a home. I feel the positive energy of home I always felt in New Mexico and find that the harsh brutality the desert ground into people does not exist here. I find I want to explore - to get into my truck and just drive, but I know I do not want to go further east than the dryline or further west than the Columbia River. The Rocky Mountains are home, and short of a family emergency, I have no need to ever leave again. I only left the Rockies to connect Merilyn with her family and her sense of “home” and discovered that did not work - though she does miss the sea and is struggling because she feels like she has to relearn how to get things accomplished. I have realized that the climate and the culture of Seattle were aging me and quickly killing me. If I never go there again, I will remain a happier person.

A skein of Canadian geese just announced the morning as they flew over. It is a good day to embrace life again.

#spokane #spokane valley #Theodore Roosevelt #the rocky mountains #the west #couer d'alene

[agenzproject]

Love above all

It’s been years. Years since I last felt the comfort in her texts.

I thought I could move on. How foolish I was. I find myself chuckling as I recall old me bravely telling her goodbye.

I stare out the window of the car as the quiet uber driver takes me to the hotel I will be staying in. London is exactly as I expected it to be. Gloomy, Grey and rainy.

Staring at the raindrops falling on the window, my mind starts chasing a train of thought. If there’s anything that movies have taught me, it’s that the heart must always be followed. And my heart, it yearns for her.

I haven’t heard from her since I turned sixteen, which was six years ago. I wonder if she still remembers me. I am sure she does not. Yet, I must satisfy this desire within the muscle that dominates my nerves.

We met through text, on a BTS fan account.

I didn’t even know her real name yet, ‘lover’ was enough to know her. We never shared pictures, yet I saw her in my dreams. I had never heard her voice yet; her words were enough to soothe me. I didn’t even know if she was a girl, yet I imagined being with her forever. I didn’t even know if she was real, yet I led myself to find comfort in my moments shared with her.

Was I chasing a dream, or was I going to reunite with the love of my life?

The sudden halt of the uber pulls me out of my thoughts and I look over to see that we have parked in front of the hotel I have a room reserved in.

I smile and thank the driver, to which he responds with an earnest nod. He is a nice man. As I step out, he calls out to me.

“You sure you don’t need an umbrella?”

I look up to see the sky painted Grey, my favorite colour. A smile takes its place on my face and I shake my head. “No, sir, I don’t think that will be necessary. Thank you for offering.”

He nods once again and waits for me to reach the Valet standing at the front door before he drives away.

The valet, a young man in his twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes, bends down in a curt bow upon my arrival and I nod at him.

As I’m about to enter through the sliding doors, I hear yelling and turn to see a man, who I assume is in his thirties, shouting at a girl who is no less than ten for running out onto the road and playing in the rain with her favourite clothes on.

The exchange warms my heart as I watch the girl nod and the father then lead her over to another building, soft yet angry as he does so. It reminds me of my own father. A strong-willed man with a firm hand on things. And it also reminds me of why I have to be in London like this in the first place.

I sigh at the thought, recalling all those nights he yelled at me.

I walk over to the receptionist and smile at the young-looking woman. She offers me a well-practiced smile in return. “How may I help you, miss?”

“I made a reservation under the name Aqsa Malik.” I tell her.

She nods and after seeing proof of my identity, hands me the key to my room on the second floor.

I leave for the elevator after thanking her but before I press the button, I notice two young ladies sitting in the lounge, close to each other. They clearly aren’t English and judging by the curly hair and Arabic written on the bags, I would assume they are from North Africa.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I press the elevator button after noticing the two marital silver bands on their ring fingers.

Inside the elevator, I inhale and exhale deeply, happy for those two women, who seemed only a tad bit older than me.

It is a good time to be homosexual. I hope that this works out for me too. I hope that the girl I came to see resonates with me. I hope she agrees that now is the right time. Because six years ago, if you were born a Muslim female, being lesbian always ended in tragedy.

I was hoping this would be an exception as I entered my three-star hotel room, heading straight for the bed, ready for some rest.

Before I slip into my bed-sheets for some sleep, I play a few songs that remind me of her.

Blue and Grey by V is what encouraged me to confess to her.

Rewrite the Stars from the musical, The Greatest Showman, was the song we listened to think of each other.

Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars was what made me cry every night after we cut communication.

These songs lull me into a peaceful sleep as the soft rain keeps patting my window, giving the room a sense of coolness.       

 

 

He yelled at me. He told me to forget her.

I wished I had just turned the tab off when my father got home, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. But I didn’t, and he ended up reading all of my texts with her, with a long lecture following afterwards.

Being a Muslim with an ex-girlfriend isn’t easy, especially when you’re just fifteen.

“You’re too young to even think about these things!” He yelled. “How can you determine your sexuality at just fifteen! Straight is the natural orientation of a person, drop this lesbian bullshit!”

I hadn’t cried. I didn’t say anything in response. It would have been of no use. Rewa had already broken up with me, albeit she had said she would still like for us to be friends.

I had apologized to my father a few days later and snuck online through another device, from where I was caught later on as well, all of this happening in a span of just two months.

Three months later, I had a friend contact Rewa’s social media and tell her I’m okay.

We both finally had the chance to talk again over Wattpad.

I smiled, satisfied as I texted her a detailed message on how I was planning to meet her, asking her as much details as the online relationship would allow me to.

I promised her that till the day we met, I would sing Blue and Grey every night the moon was visible in the sky. And I did just that.

But then a text appeared on my screen once she had received the message.

‘Aqsa, I think we should break up.’

Confusion filled my insides. Weren’t we already broken up? If she didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, why would she lead me on and sweet talk me like that so much?

I was furious. For a few moments, I had no idea what to say to her.

Then, I did.

‘Wait, aren’t we already broken up?

Did you seriously forget that you broke up with me?

Did you really sweet talk me all that much just to make me go through the worst moment of my life a second time?

Now I know what my dad feels like every time I go up to him with a half-assed apology with no intention of listening to him a second time.

Unless you have anything important to say,

Goodbye, Rewa.’

And that was the last thing I ever said to her. She didn’t answer and I deleted our chats, promising myself to never look back. Oh, how bad I am at sticking to promises.

Maybe I should’ve gone easier on her. She was just thirteen, after all.

 

 

I haven’t sung Blue and Grey to the moon since.

The words come out of my mouth as I stare at the moon, having woken up from my sleep at 3 a.m. My voice comes out deep and heavy, my heart aching with every worse.

Where’s my angel?

I’m sick and tired of everything,

Someone come and save myself,

‘Cuz I am feeling blue and Grey,

 

Everywhere I go, everything I see,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Every time I smile, Every time I cry,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

 

Oh, I just wanna be happier,

Baby don’t you let me go,

I feel tired in the winter sky,

I just wanna feel stronger

The tears slip down my cheeks without warning as I sit at the chair, huddling into myself further.

I hope she remembers me when I pay her a surprise visit in the morning.

 

Anxiety is getting the best of me as I stand in front of her college dorm room. Should I knock?

What if her roommate thinks I’m weird? What if Rewa reports me to security? What if she hates me? What if she wants to have nothing to do with me?

I try walking away but then tell myself that I didn’t come all the way from Pakistan just to run away when I am right at her doorstep. I miss her, and whether she does or not, doesn’t matter. I have to see her.

I knock at the door, swallowing down my fear as a shudder runs through my body.

I have to do this. There is no turning back now.

The door opens. A tall, dark skinned, African woman, looks down at me.

It is her.

My breath gets caught in my throat as I stare at her in awe.

It has to be her. Dark skin, curly black hair tied in a pony above her head, and about six feet tall. It is, without a doubt, Olanrewaju, my ex-girlfriend.

Holy shit.

I am not prepared for this.

“Um, can I help you?” She asks, concerned. Her voice is deep, yet smooth as she speaks in a British accent.

I just offer a weak nod, still taking her appearance in for the first time. I try to say hi but it just comes out as a guttural croak. Embarrassing.

“Um, are you okay?” She touches my shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Upon her touching my shoulder, my body tenses tenfold. She quickly retreats upon noticing my panicked expression.

“I’ll let you inside and give you a glass of water.” She takes a hold of my forearm, and gently walks me into her dorm.

I don’t register my surroundings as I continue to stare at her strong and bold figure. This is the love of my life and she doesn’t even know it.

She sits me down on what I assume is her bed as she walks over to the jug of water on the table. Thankfully, I caught her alone. Roommate isn’t home.

Rewa presses a full glass of water up to my lips and makes sure it all goes down, allowing me to inhale deep breaths, trying to regain my posture.

It takes a few minutes, but I get better.

I nod at her, offering a small smile.

She smiles back. “Now, tell me, what’s your name?”

I stare at her, my gaze piercing hers. “Aqsa.”

There is a flash of something in her eyes that I hope is familiarity and I think I am right when she takes a double take. “What?”

“Aqsa.” I repeat, as if I have no idea what history she might have with that name. “Why?”

She frowns in confusion, her eyes scanning my entire figure before she shakes her head. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

I nod.

“Where’re you from?” She asks. It’s no secret that she’s trying to figure out if I am the Aqsa she knew all those years ago.

“Pakistan.” I tell her.

Her frown deepens. “Where did you grow up?”

I have decided that I’m going to let her figure it out on her own and act as if I’ve never met her. “Why do you ask?”

She shakes her head a bit, then raises her eyebrows. “Middle East?”

She remembers. I nod.

Her breath hitches just a little and she visibly gulps, studying my features carefully.

“Do I know you?” She asks, her voice small and doubtful.

I stare into her big eyes and nod.

She exhales and looks away, leaning back in the chair next to the bed. She folds her arms across her chest, pondering the situation, her expression unreadable. But the tension in her posture can be sensed without having to try twice. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d find my way to you, didn’t I?” I tilt my head, a soft smile on my face.

She clenches her jaw and I can feel the heavy emotion in the atmosphere that replaces her prior concern. “You also said goodbye.” Her voice is heavy.

I pursue my lips in a thin line and nod. “That wasn’t a promise. I promised that I would come to you when I could, though.”

“How did you find me?” Her voice is a bit steady, yet forceful.

I smile. “You told me you lived in London. I have connections around the place. I have the internet. I know you wanted to study mechanical engineering so searching in all the good colleges amongst the mechanical engineering students was the best way to go about it.”

She is looking at me now, her dark chocolate eyes searching my face for something. “You remember?” Her voice cracks as the words leave her mouth.

I nod, trying my best to not get teary-eyed five minutes into our reunion.

Rewa clears her throat and tries to regain her steady posture. “And what about you? What are you doing?”

Ah, small talk. I allow myself to relax. “I’m studying medicine. I’m in my third year. Also, I’m writing.”

She nods and points at something behind me. I turn around to see a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall above her bed, all of my books resting on top of it.

A small smile appears on my face and my jaw stings, an indicator that I am about to cry. “That’s all of them.”

“I had two since when you first wrote them four years ago and then I just gave up, trying to forget you.” She tells me. “But then Noah noticed them and bought more books as gifts.”

“Noah?” I turn to look at her, frowning a bit in confusion.

She sighs and sits back once again. “He thought that maybe I like the writer, so got all the books he could find written by her.”

I nod, that not being what I wanted for the answer. “Who’s Noah?”

Rewa sighs again. “Forget him. He’s unimportant.”

I clutch the glass in my hands tighter, my desire for knowing who Noah was increasing. I am a curious person. I try to shrug it off by distracting myself with something else.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask.

She looks to the side to see an empty bed. “Semester just started, so she’s out with her friends.”

“You got any?”

Rewa nods. “One is at home due to an emergency and another is probably at her job right now.”

“Do you have a job?”

She shakes her head. “My parents are still paying for me, it’s all going smoothly. They say I have to start paying my own fees when third year starts.”

I nod. That sounds reasonable.

“They’re divorced, right?” I remember she mentioned it.

She nods and there’s an emotion on her face I have a little trouble trying to understand. She seems satisfied, yet in pain, as if she wished I didn’t remind her of her parents. But on the other hand, she seems happy that I cared enough to remember.

“How’s your sister?” I ask, recalling that she mentioned having a younger sister.

Rewa’s expression eases a little as she thinks of her sister. “She’s doing great. Last year of high school then college.”

“That’s good.” I nod.

The door to the room opens and we both turn to see a girl about Rewa’s age standing there, studying me with her critical green eyes, attempting to determine who I am. Her white skin is covered in patches of brown, as if she was playing in the mud.

Once she’s established that she doesn’t know me, she turns to Rewa for an explanation. “Ju?” Her voice is an indicator to the fact that she’s sensed something is wrong.

Rewa sighs. “An old friend.” Then she addresses me. “Aqsa, this is my roommate, Jessica.”

Jessica advances towards me in a friendly manner, extending her hand out for me to shake, her thin lips forming a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Jess.” She has a Scottish accent.

I smile back and shake her hand, nodding. “Nice to meet you too, Jess.”

She nods, her curly, red hair bobbing as she does so. “Where’re you from?” She lets my hand go.

“Pakistan.” I answer. “You?”

“Scotland.” She laughs. “Anyways, I have to hit the shower. See you later.”

I nod. “See you.”

Once Jessica is gone, I turn back to Rewa. “Wanna go out for a drive?”

“You have a car?”

“I rented it.”

She seems to ponder over the offer for a bit, as if carefully weighing the pros and cons of going on a ride with her ex. Finally, she nods. “I don’t see why I can’t go.”

The walk towards the rented Honda is quiet as Rewa seems to be deep in thought while I take in my surroundings, not feeling too nervous to notice them anymore. It’s still cloudy outside, but I think it won’t rain till late in the evening.

I get into the car parked outside the campus and Rewa hesitates once she’s opened the door to the passenger seat. She bows down and looks at me. “Where are we going?”

“We’re circling the next five blocks until we get tired.” I tell her.

She whips out her phone and I think she texts somebody that. A faint smile appears on my face. This is my Rewa. Wary of everybody, no matter how trustworthy they may seem.

She then enters the car and closes the door, fastening her seatbelt.

I start the car and smile at her. “You really think a bestselling author would try to kidnap you?”

            She gives me a sheepish smile, a little pink creeping up her cheeks. “You only have one bestseller and I don’t want to take any chances.”

I nod, turning forwards, driving onto the road. “You’d probably win in a fight against me anyway.”

At that, she laughs and that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my life. More beautiful than a waterfall splashing into a river below it. I want to be the one who keeps her laughing like that all the time.

Her laugh dies down after some time and we fall quiet.

“Do you still listen to K-pop?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes.”

“BTS?”

“Yeah. They disbanded though.”

“I know that.” I nod. “Can I play a song?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know…” I think for a minute, observing the wet streets of London. “Spring day?”

She seems to ponder over it too before agreeing to play Spring day. Once the music plays in the car, something… settles within me. I feel… calm. I don’t know if it’s because of the song or because I’m finally meeting Rewa, but I enjoy this feeling.

The song ends in a few minutes and it’s quiet again. But this time, it’s welcome. It’s not awkward, it feels good.

“Can we be friends again?” I ask all of a sudden.

She doesn’t respond for at least two minutes before nodding. “Wont your dad find out?”

“He doesn’t need to know it’s you.” I smile. “Besides, I’ll be independent in two years and have a job, so no worries.”

“Wont he get you married after that?” She asks.

Why does she care about that? I suggested being friends. Maybe… she’s hoping we can be more? My stomach does a flip at that exciting thought.

“I’ll get out of there.” I tell her. “Do a job here, be free of their restricting opinions.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Will you give me another chance?” In the silence, I ask her the question I have been aching to ask for a long time.

“At dating?” She gets right down to the point.

I shrug. “If you want to. I just want to be a part of your life again.”

“So, it doesn’t matter how?” She asks.

I draw in a deep breath. “I just want to make you happy. I still love you. You can decide how I make you happy. I can be whatever you want me to be. My love for you exists beyond any label this world could slap on us.”

There’s silence again. Then she speaks up. “You’re still the same.”

I blink, eyes still on the road. “What?”

“Before, when we used to text,” She says. “You’d always say something that would fluster me so much. You’re still the same.”

At that, I smile, recalling all the many times I would say something cheesy and make her feel butterflies in her stomach. “Glad to know.”

She gives a soft chuckle in response. “I think we can start off fresh, with you as my friend. I still need time getting over Noah, so-“

“Noah was your date?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is quiet.

“What happened?” I ask, concerned. I swear if this Noah hurt her, I might just have to put ‘become a hitwoman’ on my bucket list, not that I haven’t already considered that.

She lets out a puff of breath, hugging herself. “I don’t know, we both wanted very different things from life. He was too serious about it and I wanted to focus on my future.”

“Oh.” That is all I can say. Noah hadn’t hurt her so there was no reason to be mad. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“So, we can be friends?” I smile.

“Of course.”

I feel all giddy on the inside.

I look to my side and smile at her, slowing the car down. She smiles back, both of us sharing eye contact for a swift moment before I turn back to the road.

I go back to the radio on the car and play Seesaw by Suga, a song and artist we both adore to pieces.

And at that moment, as Suga’s soothing voice instills a sense of safety and Rewa at my side awakes a sense of assurance, I feel complete.

Who knows?

Maybe I can make her love me again, we can resume our relationship and maybe even get married.

Live a happy life.

Six years later, standing at the altar, Blue and Grey playing in the background, as I hold Rewa’s hands, I realize just how right I was.

“I love you, Aqsa.”

“I love you so, my love.”

“I declare you married! You may kiss!”

And we do. A beautiful, passionate kiss, marking the beginning of our life together.

Some tales do have happy endings.

A Story by Riley Gray

#submission #short story #a gen z project #1k to 5k

[calypsoff]

Thirty Nine.

I’m a little nervous, like not even going to front and lie about it but I am very nervous. I am going to meet TJ and Barry, they maybe coming to the home or I meet them. No support, no walking frame, no walking stick or crutches. Just me on my own, I’ve spoken about this day to my therapist, and it’s arrived. He said it’s the day of your freedom, take it with both hands and do it. Barry and TJ said they will come here to me, not seen them in months so I hope they come here first, being able to walk on my own is a blessing, I get emotional thinking about it. I worked so hard for this, lots of work and sweat to just get to this moment of freedom. I can walk on my own, I’m a little slow but I do it and that is the point. My trainer said to keep it to a minimum, meaning long walks is a no but walk. So I am doing just that, Robyn came to see me for the month off and we didn’t have sex, that wasn’t on my mind, she was angrier about my hair and beard, I wanted to I don’t know, surprise her. Which I am, because I’m getting on a flight to Barbados tonight, just for her. She thinks I am staying here; she is currently confused on what to do because after her very last date she wants to stay there, but she thinks I’m not coming but I am. It’s to surprise her, with my new look. I am very happy “Chris” my mother knocked on my bedroom door “come in” I said, she opened the door slowly “shall I finish packing your suitcase?” Nodding my head “also your barber has arrived baby, I’m so excited to see you shaven” I think everyone is “same, I feel like my confidence is going to hit the roof but let me go and see him. He going to be scared” getting up from the bed “it’s been painful to see the mess of your hair” my mother is rude for that.

Making my way to the kitchen “fuck off, you are not Chris Brown. You’re not the nigga I saw last” JC screamed out laughing “are you serious?” He walked over to me so shocked, he is shook “bro, you good?” He hugged me, like he missed me “I’m alive, I just been through hell and back. I’m glad to see you here, my girlfriend is driving me crazy about this beard” he moved back from the hug “not surprised, wow. How you been? I heard you got shot on TMZ, after that no news everything went quiet, come. Sit down, I can’t wait to get your hair done. Usual?” Sitting down on the chair “yeh usual, I just been through hell and back, not going to lie. I have been just trying to put my all into walking again, you see I am a little slow with things but I’m getting there. I just been through so much pain and hurt, like a lot of shit. I stayed away from social media, just concentrated on myself, I needed to get better for myself. Now I am ready to go back to that life, I am ready to be me again” rubbing my beard for the very last time “I actually want blonde coloured curls and side low skin haircut, I want that bro if you can” I want to colour my hair again “I got you! It’s so good to see you, Drake been giving you love online. We all were to be honest, am I the first to see you after all this time” nodding my head smiling “you are bro” it’s good to feel this love from people, I didn’t think they cared like that “I am so glad you good though, has the process been hard for you?” He asked “it’s been so hard, I mean look at me, and I got a girl like Rihanna walking around. Man, I was scared she would have left me but god bless my wife she been there for me, I am ready for the world now” I can’t wait to just get back out there.

I looked at myself in amazement “can you crush on yourself?” JC busted out laughing “I look good, I look sexy as fuck. I ain’t going to be big headed but damn, you done wonders. That is me, I am so happy JC. Hand on my heart, you just gave me a new lease of life with this haircut. It’s what I wanted” getting up from the chair as he moved the mirror back “you going to get laid tonight bro, on my life you are” I laughed “what makes you think I wasn’t, joking. She would rather stay away from me but thank you. Look at the floor, it’s like a hairy ass dog just lost his hair. God damn” that is crazy, the amount of hair he cut off “you look well Chris, better than before” raising an eyebrow “for real? What makes you say that?” Didn’t expect that from him “you’re happier, vibrant. The happiness you feel within yourself is showing Chris, I feel it” that is impressive “it’s all love bro” dapping him “my handsome son! Oh my god, you have done gods work on him, Christopher” my mother just hugged me from behind “Mrs Brown, nice to meet you. My hands hurt now, but you like it? Just how he wanted” my mother was way too excited, she disliked I did that but accepted it, as she would “now this is my son, he kept it to annoy Robyn but annoyed everyone else around you too” my mother speaking the truth now “wow, you should love me no matter what, rude” my mother let me go and I turned around “such a handsome boy, I love you” I cooed out “I love you too ma” hugging my mother “I can’t believe you’re showing me this love now, the hell happened before?” She is so rude.

The boys both decided that they would come here to see me, it’s been a while so it will be emotional, and they are here, I mean I’m all clean now. I can kind of walk I guess, dragging open the door “my fucking brother” TJ is the first one to hug me, I fell back a little “you had me scared out here, it’s been months without seeing you or really speaking to you” he patted my back “I fucking missed you!” Smiling so wide “I missed both you and Barry, it’s been hard on me. I drove myself insane, I really had to pull myself out” TJ moved back, the grip he had on me there “you been working out?” He pointed at me “wouldn’t you like to know” I laughed “bring it in brother” walking to Barry “I love you so much” hugging him “I love you too, I’m so blessed to be here. To be alive, to see you both. To see you all actually, I am so blessed have you both as friends, Robyn told me you both kept the business alive and did so much. I know I kept away from you both, not because I hate you both, but I was going through it. When I got shot it just topped it off, I wasn’t me and I just needed time” moving back from the hug feeling a little choked up “It’s ok, I am glad to see you here with us, smiling and you right. I think Chris got muscle now, can you walk ok though?” Barry questioned, I shrugged “uhm a little bit I guess, I am better than I was. I can walk but I am slow with it, I take time to get to places, but I am ok, I am without any walking frame anymore, so all is well, but please come in. Let’s talk” I gestured.

My mother is always showing out with guests, she has bought out the snacks and drinks but I ain’t got time, I got to get a ring for Robyn “how is Camron? Yo, when I heard you called him Camron Myles, it made my heart so warm. You really did that, why? Also what did Robyn send you, you know that wasn’t me?” TJ laughed “nigga I knew it wasn’t you, she sent a baby grow set, a Gucci one and a Dior set for him. I was shocked. I didn’t expect it, I put it up on my Instagram. Thank you either way, even though you weren’t aware of it, you both come as a team so it’s whatever. I am happy, and I was just thinking how you pulled me and Barry out the hood, you have got us out of a place where we could have been stuck in, VA ain’t all that. You are taking us with you, you ain’t changed on us. I just feel like I am going to be able to provide for my son because of you, you’re my brother and I love you” I cooed out “I can’t wait to meet him bro, is he light skinned like you?” he grinned “you know that he so white I didn’t think he was mine, I was there for the birth. I admire her for going through that pain, not for me though. Good luck when it’s your turn, blood and her cooch was turning all different sizes. It’s the way it just popped out, I was shook” I cringed “dang, that sounds terrible. I think I will be elsewhere for the day when it happens” I say that but it’s a lie, I have no choice in that “but I got a little something I need to tell you boys, I am going to Barbados. Robyn doesn’t know, I am going there to surprise her and also I am going to propose to Robyn while we in Barbados, I think she deserves the title after taking care of me, she did things no woman would generally do, that is on god so yeah” TJ and Barry both dapped each other cheering “knew it! I knew it, I said it to TJ. Soon, but why not, she is beautiful and also has a beautiful heart” I grinned hearing that, she really does “so I need to get a ring before I go, just engagement for now” I don’t even know where to start, how to even get a ring for Robyn.

Ring shopping is actually so hard, I didn’t ever think it would be, but it is. I mean I am trying to ball on a budget first of all but I also cannot do that because this is Rihanna, this is someone that will be showing the ring off so I am digging deep into the savings, I mean I could get her something up to twenty thousand and that is it, I can’t go further then that but if I do that, I have spent all of my savings from the sale of the apartment, so I need to be careful. I do not want to touch my money from the business, that is separate “man, this is long” TJ said, rolling my eyes “you know what sir, what are you looking for?” even the girl is fed up “something that makes a statement but is not like thirty thousand, like I love that ring but it was overboard, I want to spend money but also not too much” she nodded her head “I will be back, please wait here” I hope she can come up with something “I really liked the ring too” I am annoyed that I have to be broke “I told you to take it from the business account but you won’t” they did both say it, but I ain’t doing it. If I do it then it’s like a free for all, we all will do it then “I appreciate that you both did it but no” the lady came back into the room “I really like this, it’s eighteen carat white gold, emerald diamond vintage ring. It is fourteen thousand dollars, it makes a statement like you said, it’s not as big as the thirty thousand but it still makes enough noise, you must really love this girl. I have had men that do not go above a rack” I chuckled “well, there is a reason for that. You may find out soon but thank you” taking the ring for her, it carries weight actually “I like this you know, it’s thick too. You think you could see twin with this on” placing it on my pinkie finger “hell yes, out of them all. That looks good, perfect size for her fingers” looking at the ring on my finger, I think I got a winner here.

My mother gushed over the ring; she is in awe “how much was this?” she questioned “erm guess” placing my hands behind my back “I think this was above twenty thousand?” I am glad she said that “nope, fourteen thousand. I am glad you said that because then it looks expensive. It needs to be right for her. But yeah, I am ready” I sighed out “I am going to hang with the boys outside, be back before I leave for Barbados” pressing a kiss to the side of my mother’ head before walking off, I am so amped for this. I am so confident and happy; I can’t wait to see Robyn. I can’t wait to just hold her, I have missed her so much “you got the blunt going?” TJ held out the blunt to me, grabbing the blunt “I have not had one in so long” placing the blunt between my lips, feeling the smoke fill my lungs. Blowing the smoke out between my lips “here” holding the blunt out back to him “Cali weed is always good but look” lifting my tee up “look at this nigga, he never had a six pack at all” Barry laughed out “bro, I am happy as fuck. Take a picture actually” I need to get back in the game, show the world I am back.

Pressing post on the Instagram post, I just posted my lower half. I ain’t post my face, I am just so proud of my six pack “reenergised? My nigga!” TJ laughed “you get my updates? Wow, I feel you crushing on me hard, I can tell you do” locking my phone “nah, I was already looking and you said you posted” rolling my eyes “sure, I got a ugly ass scar on my thigh though but it is what it is, I am happy” my phone started ringing in my hand, answering Robyn’ call “hey twin” TJ snorted laughing “so we posting thirst traps now?” raising an eyebrow “really? What is that?” I questioned “reenergised and you’re showing your six pack off? Like?” letting out an oh “I don’t post thirst traps, I am just happy with my accomplishment” Robyn is so annoyed “I mean it’s nothing, so are you coming home when you finished your tour?” she is annoyed, I know it “I want to go back to your post, you don’t even send me pictures, show me your face right now” laughing at Robyn being like this “uh, not right now. I will later, stop being this way Robyn” chewing on my bottom lip “that other women are looking at my man’ body, the first thing you put after months. I am going to snap on any bitch thirsting on your page, I am very offended you’re not sending me these pictures Chris!” let me stop laughing “twin, stop. You’re not like this, it’s just a friendly post that got your panties wet” Robyn groaned out “you’re so annoying, honestly” I do love her a lot “show me your face” she ain’t going to drop it “you think I have shaven? No ma’am” I will continue to annoy her, wait till I see her tomorrow she is going to be crying.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

[allie1804-fan]

Please Assist Me (Chapter 18)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Ch6apter 10 , Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15 , Chapter 16, Chapter 17

Warnings: Explicit Content

He Said

At last in January of 2021, the schools opened and we felt like there was more every day normal going on.  There were a few more restaurants open with outdoor service too so Sophia and I had the occasional lunch out together when he had free time.  I was training hard though so I didn’t have much free time which meant we tended to need to stick to Hollywood rather than driving out to the coast off the beaten track and that was our first mistake. Sophia had been my assistant  for almost 2 years now so it  wasn’t odd for us to be seen together but as there was almost never any other women seen with me,  Cheryl alerted me that pictures started appearing in gossip rags, putting 2 and 2 together based on their (correct!) reading of intimate gazes and body language.

She Said

In the new year, a few photos started to come out of me with Keanu online and in gossip rags. The publicity wasn’t hugely invasive and I wasn’t too bothered by it - my family and friends knew the truth so this only really attracted random contact on social media from acquaintances being nosy rather than any real invasion at first.

My first direct experience that the attention was getting invasive came one day at the school pick up. I had noticed a man hovering at a distance from the gates who I was pretty sure wasn’t a parent. My attention was torn away when my kids came out but as I turned to take them to the car, I saw a teacher cautiously approach him and after a brief exchange he turned on his heal and left. That’s when I spotted the camera slung over his shoulder. A couple of days later, pictures of me and the kids were published on-line on a gossip site.  The kids’ images were a little blurry but still, I was furious.

 He Said

“Fuck!”

I’d just clicked on my phone on a link Sophia had sent to me  for a photo news site showing pictures of her and the kids at their school gate. Some low life pap had tracked them down and deemed them newsworthy because of her link to me that had been emerging more and more frequently of late.

I forwarded it to Cheryl and asked her to arrange an urgent  call with her and my lawyer to work out an action plan. Then I called Sophia, nervous that I might be in for a tirade of Spanish insults.

“Hun, you OK?”

“No, I’m not OK. Que pendejo insoportable!”

Here we go, I thought!

“who me?!”

“No, no, the photographer, this isn’t your fault!”

“kind of is though isn’t it?”

“No, I won’t let you take the blame – but we have to stop them. The kids need to be kept out of this right?”

“Yeah, I’m waiting to hear back from Cheryl. I asked her to arrange a call with the lawyers. I’ll let you know when they can set it up OK?  And I’m sorry, even if you say it isn’t my fault, it wouldn’t be happening if we weren’t in a relationship.”

She sighed.

“We’ll figure it out, OK, I just, I need to keep them safe”

“I know, I know sweetheart”

We managed to issue a cease and desist order on that particular photographer to not take further photographs of the children and put out a general statement asking the press to respect their privacy  but that did seem to have the effect of making them more thirsty for pictures of Sophia and I – we were still game.  As pictures circulated of us eating out or on bike rides, this apparently spawned a trend of what I understand are called “Trolls” seeking out Sophia on social media to send her hateful messages to ‘leave me alone’ and to stop ‘trying to wheedle her way into my life’  and ‘get her grubby Latino hands on my money’. And, she said, if they didn’t do it directly, there would be comments underneath her photo on fan sites with people expressing their disgust at my choice of romantic partner.  On top of that, there was a lot of denial   - people saying that Sophia was and could only ever be my PA – just like Janey they said. Good grief the world really had gone to hell - why did who I was dating even matter?

Apparently there were many people being kind and saying it was nice that I’d found love and that she was beautiful, might give me the babies I’d missed out on etc etc but I could see the comments of the trolls weighed on her mind and lodged there far more than anything positive. Eventually I said she should really just follow me into the social media free wilderness. She could keep an active messenger service for group chats with friends and use a cloud service to share photos of the kids with our parents but for her sanity, she needed to drop Facebook, Instagram and Twitter before she went insane!

 She Said

I knew I shouldn’t get drawn into looking at what Keanu’s fan base were saying online but the curiosity was hard to control. I actually only started getting drawn in after the trolls started tracking my down and sending me abusive DMs. That made me want to know if there were any positive voices or if these nasty people basically spoke for the whole of his fandom. I found myself wasting so much time going down rabbit holes trying to find out who these people were but there was no way to do that really.

 When my general tetchiness finally got too much and Keanu said I should join him in the 1990s and get off social media, I knew he was right but at the same time it was infuriating as I had got so used to using it for sharing news, family photos, jokes etc as well as using all the messenger tools to connect with my friends. After all the isolation of 2020, this new isolation felt like a kick in the teeth but I felt so childish to think that way and didn’t dare say anything to Keanu. Having never been on social media, he just wouldn’t get it! After about a week though, I had to admit I felt better and admitted that his way was probably the sane option – after weeks of anxiety,  I finally felt free from the worry of silly people  out there who didn’t know us personally having an opinion about whether we ‘should’ be dating.

Happily, we  also had a trip to New York to look forward to - Keanu would be starting filming on John Wick 4 and we were heading there as a family with around a week free to enjoy the city together before he would start on set.

The kids were beyond excited to be flying, not ever having done so before. They each had a little pull-along case and we booked first class so we would have as little time as possible milling around in the public spaces at the airport. I was sure there’d be paps about - we couldn’t ban them from taking our photo altogether even though we’d asked for their privacy to be respected so I was desperate to minimise their chances.

When we got to LAX, it was literally minutes after we’d got into the building when a fan approached asking for a photo. Keanu started to try and explain that he was on his down time with his family and would they mind if he didn’t take one today but he hated the crestfallen look on their face and he quickly suggested that we split up and meet up in the lounge. I rummaged through my bag to get his ticket out and handed it to him with a pointed look at the woman before heading off to check in with the kids, not caring that my silent displeasure might make it online somewhere to be used as evidence of what a bitch I was!

We went on through to departures and waited a good half hour before he showed up.

“Hey Keanu why did you take so long” Eva whined.

He chuckled.

“Sorry honey, but I guess it’s because ‘I’m Duke Caboom, Canada’s greatest stuntman’ he boomed, tickling her sides “and sometimes that means people want to say hi and take a photo so it took a while to catch you up.

“Oh OK” she said matter of factly not at all phased by that idea. I guess she knew how excited Julie and Miranda’s kids had been when they zoomed with him when he was in Berlin so it made sense to her even though Toy Story 4 was the only thing she’d ever seen with him in so she had no idea just how truly famous he was!

“You’re too good to them” I said, still a bit put out that we’d already been separated for a while right at the beginning of our trip.

“Yeah, but it never ends well if I’m an ass…. I mean not nice and you’ve got to remember that I’m usually ‘so high’ on a screen and seeing me in real life is exciting …. to them at least” he said cocking an eyebrow at me as if to say that I no longer saw him as special.

“You’re exciting to me too silly!” I said, relenting a bit from my sulk.

He squeezed my hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to give off some ‘stay away’ vibes in New York so we can all hang out like real people.

“I know, I’m being a bitch, I just wanted this to be, you know, normal”

When we arrived in New York, we had a car waiting so were quickly away from the airport and managed to pass through it without being bothered. On the journey, the kids were pressing their faces against the car windows to see the famous sky-scrapers and there was much anticipation of getting to his apartment to see how their bedrooms looked. We’d arranged to have them  decorated and bought new duvets and drapes which Keanu’s maid service had taken care of putting up for them. We got take out pizza for the first night and once again I felt safe and cocooned from the outside world of fans and paparazzi.

He Said

It was strange that Sophia and I had been together for not much short of a year before the public interest in me,  and its impact on living our lives, really became a pain in the ass and the source of some conflict  between us. I had to remind myself that I’d been living this way for about 20 years and had learned to just allow a little extra time in my day for stopping for a photo. It only affected me when I was on my own so I had to learn to see if from her point of view  - it was a shock to her system basically. She’d been my PA for 2 years but we had rarely needed to conduct our business in the public eye so she hadn’t even experienced the attention when we weren’t dating – it was all happening in the context of her being my significant other and with the backdrop of the online trolls and the need to protect her kids.

I guess it would have happened much sooner if I hadn’t been away filming for almost 5 months shortly after we started dating so we’d had an extended time of being together but with no-one outside of friends and family knowing. I tried to tell her we should be grateful all this hadn’t started sooner. I’m not sure that was the right thing to say!

My celebrity did have some advantages though and in New York I’d managed to arrange a private tour of the  Empire State Building  and rink side seats at a Rangers game. Those earned me points but we weren’t so lucky in Central Park. My apartment isn’t far from there so we headed out for a walk one afternoon, ending up in in the Conservatory Garden figuring that this would be  a nice place to be by some water but not where most people would be like Bethesda or the model boat pond.

We’d bought some sandwiches on our way (my time to enjoy the pastrami, pickle and Russian salad I so love)  and settled on a bench to chill and rest the kids’ legs when I saw a guy across the other side of the pond raising his camera. It was clearly a Pap with a long lens. I’m normally not a hot head but it was such an intrusion to our pleasant afternoon that I handed Sophia my sandwich and marched up to him.

I was striding fast, not caring much that my stance was clearly threatening and some people idling by the pond scuttled out of my way. The Pap, surprisingly stood his ground until I reached him, squaring up to him.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing? We’re just having some private time as a family and you come along determined to ruin it!”

I was yelling and drawing the attention of others by the pond but I didn’t care.

“hey man, you’re fair game” he responded brazenly.

“Yeah that’s right, I, me, I’m fair game, me not them ,now get the hell out of here”

He was a short weasel of a guy and I was towering above him. He soon thought better of trying to take a picture and scurried away.  A woman a few feet away spontaneously clapped!

“Good for you Keanu” she said.

I blushed, coming down suddenly from the adrenaline of the confrontation. It has been a long time since I’d even spoken to a Pap. I usually just ignored them, occasionally putting my hand in front of my face to ruin the shot. It generally wasn’t worth antagonising them but this dude had pushed it too far.

I thanked her and returned to the bench. Sophia handed me back my sandwich while the kids eagerly asked why I’d been shouting at the man.  I explained as best I could and I think they were grateful that I just wanted their mom and them to enjoy their time without strangers photographing them.

A couple of days later, Cheryl let me know that the guy made a claim on-line that I’d assaulted him – no actual legal claim was made, I guess because he knew it was bullshit. That was quickly proven when people quickly came forward that they had witnessed it and no such thing had happened. I wondered if the lady clapping was one of them.

  She Said

After the Central Park incident, I was so proud of how Keanu had stood up to the paparazzo but we still made a decision to do most of the tourist things without him after that. I couldn’t see us being in Time Square, The Lego Store or the M&M store with him alongside us comfortably. And that was strange and a little sad for me to be back to the single parent feeling, having experienced some very cherished family days.

Our time to go home was fast approaching and I was keen to get one day just for the two of us. Luckily I have a cousin in New York who wanted to spend time with the kids and they offered to take  them on the boat trip to the Statue of Liberty for the day. We made the kids breakfast and handed them over to my cousin with backpacks, ready for their adventure.

We just had coffee ourselves as we were planning on a brunch out for ourselves later after some us time between the sheets!

The minute the door was shut, Keanu was pulling me by the hand back to bed.

We quickly shed our pjs, climbed under the covers and started to kiss

Keanu soon reached down and started to gently tease my folds. I moaned into his mouth thrusting myself against his fingers.

A thought came to me and I pulled back and asked

“Can we um, try something today ?”

“Mmmm - what?”

“Well you know your movie, Siberia? “

He nodded

“Well, I watched it while you were away and, um that thing with your thumb ....”

“Oh you want that do you?” - a wicked grin spread across his face

“Well we can try that lots of ways ….. so, we can try that from behind. Get on all fours for me”

I obliged and I felt him slip his stiff cock into me, my folds parting  with a pop. He was moving very slowly, then after a few thrusts as I was moaning softly, I felt his wet fingers reach around to gently tease my clit. He did it just enough to make me  moan louder but not enough to make me cum. Then he pulled out leaving me bereft

“What?” I cried out

Then he rolled over on his back and pulled me  onto him.

“And then there’s lady on top”

I happily sank down on his cock and started to ride him. I was groaning but at the same time I could hear my voice quavering as I neared orgasm once more. He licked his thumb, this time, re-enacting the Siberia moment making me throw my head back in pleasure. I was about to lift off, my voice  raised in pitch but again he stopped me before I could, holding my hips to stop my movement.

The he flipped me over onto my back and straddled me, making me wait a few moments as he played with my breasts and smoothed his hands down my sides .

“And finally we can try man on top”

“Will you do that thing ?” I asked

“What the thumb ?”

“No, well yes, but first the thing where you lift me onto you”

“Oh like our first time?”

I nodded, glad he remembered.

He obliged lifting me onto him,  pulling me up,  ensheathing him  slowly so I could feel every vein of his rigid cock and he could feel every ridge of my tunnel.

I was wailing by now each time he pulled me up then released me – I could feel his cock getting even harder when he asked simply

“Ready?”

I just whimpered and nodded my agreement.

 He Said

I was so close to coming, I needed to really focus to give her everything she deserved.

I manoeuvred her fully onto her back and encouraged her to lift her legs up over my shoulders.

This allowed me maximum access to thrust in all the way to her cervix and pump in and out.

I could already feel the beginnings of her orgasm, her pussy pulsating around me. It was as if she was a beautiful flower, attracting me with her petals then sucking me in, holding me there in a vice like grip to take what she needed from me. It was primal and all encompassing

As I felt the ripples get more intense, I managed to balance on my left hand and free my right hand, lick my thumb and circle it over her clit.

That was it, it was all over for both of us. She clamped around me, her legs quivering and I shot my hot load inside shouting out as she screamed “yes, yes oh god, yes”

My thrusts gradually slowed, I was still moaning and fighting to catch my breath. I eased her legs down and lay on her just holding my weight off her by resting on my elbows. I gave her a sloppy kiss before easing off her onto my back. I still couldn’t speak. and just squeezed her hand. Tears leaked out of my eyes and I gulped, looking across, I found her in a similar emotional state.

“Wow that was - god I don’t think I’ve ever, ever come so hard”

“Me neither - love you so much Mr Reeves”

“Why do you always call me that after really great sex?”

“Dunno” she chuckled “maybe to give you the respect you deserve for making love to me so, so ….”

“What?”

“So masterfully, so beautifully”

“Mmmmmmm”

“Let’s have a snooze before brunch yeah?”

“Mmmm”

I think she was almost asleep already as she turned away and I spooned behind her, holding her warm breast in the palm of my hand.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithk’eanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles @bitchyslut99

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu #keanu reeves #romance with boss

[jsuisartistofthestars]

The way I have so much gratitude for my Ancestors and Protectors 🥺 they've protected me multiple times from someone who turned out abusive and manipulative and now that person is gonna get hit with those pending transactions of karma

Here's the wild looking warning:

[TW: abuse, manipulation, abusive relationship mention, blood magick, curses, death mention]

Imma just drop this life story here. I've been proceeding it for so long and maybe having it on a post would help me really set that it's real. It's straight crazy stuff but still. I believe in fairytales.

I have an ex who's currently in prison who was also my karmic partner. I escaped abuse and (later found out through Divination) an early death after I broke up with him and blocked him. The last time I saw him (2018), we got in a major argument when he threatened to "expose" me on IG for fucking another guy (I'm single at this point and he's just very salty). But a month before he wanted me to have this baby cuz that would "make" him change. This man was the reason I ended up needing to be Baker Acted one night over a month before the argument; he was at a party and ignored his friend's messages and calls that I was at the hospital. But when I got discharged (my parents drove up to get me without my knowledge so they released me because no one expected them to come) he came over with some sorry ass face cuz my dad promised to kill him if he ever hurts me again.

During this argument though, I told him that I'd be in going to Canada for vacation, graduating, and living a better life while he'll be going to jail. He got arrested a week later. He called me and said he turned himself in after all that happened so he can take responsibility. I didn't believe him; I knew he was trying to manipulate me again. I called his PO on my way home for vacation and mans got arrested for speeding. I told his mom since he lied to her too (who's lovely overall and that news really set to her how deep of a fuck up he was) and went on my way.

2019, I had started a much better and healthier relationship. The ex got arrested again right after getting out. He did try to contact me a few times but I knew the games by now and my then-bf texted him to back off (a lot of men over there didn't step unless a guy came up 🙄). I had really started my spiritual journey for myself now, learning tarot and starting to pray to my ancestors. I moved out of town for good two days before he was released from jail and he had no idea where I was/am. I had always prayed to my ancestors that he wouldn't ever see me again and they made sure his ass was locked up while i was walking around.

I graduated in December of 2019 and when I went back to my school for the ceremony, I found out he got arrested. A month before. For helping to hide evidence in a murder. He had been transferred across the north side of the state and most of his friend groups fell apart so not even anyone of his "friends" could find me. But I was plagued with nightmares almost every day.

This ain't even the big parts yet.

Last year around this time I had broken up with my recent ex. This is where I got catapulted into my journey further. I found out fake friends of mine had put attacks on me and caused my relationship to end and almost killed me. I since cut them out, learned about protection and Cleansing, got closer to my ancestors, and began to tap into my abilities.

The nightmares shifted from the spiritual attack to that first ex again. Somehow, in prison he got one of my IG pages taken down. I had been off social media so that was a shock, as an old homie of his told me he did something to my pictures. I was taught a binding away spell to make him stop. I don't hex—really it's my last resort. My point wasn't to cause pain but to stop him from bothering me, jumping in my dreams, etc. A month later, I had a dream where he tried to take me away, practically hunting me down for two weeks (in the dream) until my dad shot him in the head (kept his promise) and I woke up literally feeling free. I broke the cycle with him. I went months with nothing but vibes. I began working on my clairaudience as well.

So one thing is that the spirits who walk with me tend to share bad news about people I know. I get good news too but, especially when someone does me wrong, they'll lay down the real stuff. Sometimes they're messages/warnings for others that can be changed if action is taken. My dad gets this too. He was the one who knew that vakabon was gonna end up in jail/prison soon from his own dream.

After Christmas in December, I was chilling and driving and I heard "______ is going to die." I'm like 😳 Mind you, I'm listening to some hype kompa music, running errands, singing, and this comes through clear. That first ex is gonna die. When I got home, my ancestors confirmed this through my cards. I left it alone even though to me it's great news. I still don't wish death on people but hey they said it.

THIS JANUARY (goddamn this shit is long)

In the middle of the first month of the new year, this prison ex shows up in my dream but he masquerades as a completely different person trying to trick me. A protector spirit literally shows up and calls him out, telling me to leave the room but I catch the dude's face. Idk how you can go cold in a dream but I did. His face, his hair, his stupid smile, and his off-putting laughing. Like he knew he almost got me. I checked in with other readers, and it was his Spirit. Apparently, he knows he's gonna die and wanted to trap me spiritually so I'd go down with him. He wanted me to die. Mans like a demon. When I woke up, I used cards and shells to Divine coupled with constant cleansing of my spaces and myself. I made multiple sigils for protection for myself and even my loved ones. He hasn't shown up since cuz he's always blocked out now, but looking for new ways. I keep up with it every day.

I talked to my seer friend and learned that that ex had tried to do some heavy blood magick on me (no wonder why my ancestors like my recent ex like he does nothing at all) and it backfired big time; no protection, nothing. All my spirits from ancestors to protectors to even lwa and orishas have been making their presences known. He went to someone to help get the work done and the guy knew it was going to backfire but let the ex do it on purpose (grade A). Now he's sick and is still going to be paying 😌 maybe even more 😌

What did get me some is why. What type of hatred you have for me to put so much risk to kill me when you haven't even seen me in years? You're so upset at your situation that you try to drag me down. A friend suggested that he could've always been into more baneful magick but played it off well. That could very well be true. Or he escalated cuz he blames me for things that happened to him. Whatever it is, it's on him. He's facing Justice and my people. Whoever he went to really let him fuck up knowing I was protected but let it come back on him. It's the audacity. But he'll never have me. When I escaped that relationship I meant it on all levels.

I'm safe, I'm guarded, I'm flourishing, and I'll outlive him.

#afro witch #witchcraft #ancestors #black spirituality #witch of color #witchblr #long post #trauma vent #venting

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 120

Your year of 2015 started on a Thursday. Though Stark Industries had allowed its employees to take a long weekend off- understanding in that they’d probably been up drinking and partying up late on the Wednesday night before (as had you), it didn’t mean you had the day off. ...although, much like the rest of the world, it started a little late. A nice sleep in, and then a much nicer intimate good-morning with Tony. Perhaps things weren’t so bad. 

After a long luxurious hour spent in each other’s close attentions, you ended up atop him, straddling his hips, his hands kneading at your own while you slid down on your forearms at the sides of his head. A slow kiss half broken by uneven panting eventually led to smiles and brushes of noses. And then, when you could find a thought, “I think I’m going to go for a run.” Yet even as you managed to work the thought out you were still semi-caught up on him. 

“Not enough exercise for you? I could remedy that.” Grinning against your lips, rocking up in such a way that earned a hitched, warm gasp from you. 

But, determined to not fall victim to his charm, you tilted down, nuzzling one of the bright red patches of skin on his neck. Your wonderful handiwork. “You’re insatiable.” Just a fact. 

He huffed out half a laugh. Turning his head to find the shell of his ear, he worked his lips over in a light touch before murmuring in such a tone you couldn’t help but shiver, “Only for you.” 

“Lucky me.” Middling now, trying to decide if you were going to let him win. 

“We’re in agreement, then.” Hearing the victory in his voice right before he grabbed your hips a little tighter and threw his weight just enough to roll you. Onto your side first, as giggles left without your permission, and then repositioning so he could kneel atop you, knees at your sides, hands just above your shoulders. 

Looking up at him, you just couldn’t help but get lost. He was so beautiful in the morning light. Eyes sweet and dark, tug of that handsome grin on his lips, the light sheen of perspiration. Your hands reached up, palming over his chest, the lean muscles there, and then smoothed out over to his arms, gripping lightly at his biceps, flexing as he held himself over you. “I love you.” Completely unable to help yourself in saying so. 

He eased in a little more, nose touching yours, lips just there. “I love you.” Then another amused noise. “You look like you’re admiring a piece of art.” 

Your own grin was very wide. “What a self-serving compliment.” 

“I’m not hearing a disagreement.” Delicate arch of his brow. 

Letting go of a little hum, you moved your hands inward to paw lightly at his chest. “Well. In that case… if I’m caught… it’s true. You are gorgeous.” 

It was a rare shade on Tony, blushing- that ripple of shyness. Not having expected you to agree, perhaps waiting on a rebuff. But instead… “Is that so?” Still trying to play at that overconfident ego.

“Mnhmn.” A little lull as your fingers touched up along the sides of his neck, bringing him that bare space down closer to kiss him. Lightly, only for a few seconds. “You’re terribly handsome. Sometimes I just can’t help myself from staring.” Eyes blinking open to watch him mull all this over. Conflicted. Your smile was steady. “Have I ever told you-” Hands moving further still to touch just over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “Your freckles drive me absolutely crazy?” A light dusting, but they were there- if one was close enough to see them. 

Which, thankfully, you were. His head ducked a little, pressing against yours, grinning perhaps a little helplessly. “Alright, now you’re just looking for points.” 

“I’m just being honest. And- oh- speaking of honest-” Deciding to help him out, as he was growing ever more flustered. Maybe, perhaps, unused to being on the receiving end of something like this. Moving your hands all the way down and around, you shifted just a little up, so that you could grab two wonderful handfuls of his ass, squeezing hard enough to get a just slightly delighted yet surprised sounding noise from him. “Your ass is amazing. I need you to start teaching me your squat technique.” 

Laughter dropped out of him, half embarrassed- “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Well- since we’re not going for a run- hopefully you. Since you offered.” Sharing in the sweet sound of morning giggles with him as he dipped in to press those laughs against your lips in an incomplete kiss. 

“You’re only teaching me I can talk you out of exercise with sex, you know.” 

“As long as it’s a good sex-workout.” Hands on the move again, only so you could wind your arms around his neck, smile pressed against his. 

“I can manage that. Good- why not great?” 

“I like the sound of that.” A hum as you drew him in for a deeper kiss. And then, when you could speak again, “I know you won’t disappoint me.” 

“Never.” Already getting lost in each other again. 

Just the way you liked your mornings.

                                                     ---

It was a morning just like that one, a few weeks later- at least this time you’d actually made it for a run. One that, nice enough, Tony had joined you on. And, as you came home, he also very nicely joined you in a cool-down shower. That needed its own cool-down shower after it. Insatiable indeed. 

But it was just as you were sitting down for lunch in the kitchen that Pepper dinged you. Pulling a tablet closer, you opened a video window for her with a smile. “Working on the weekend?” 

“Hardly.” She grinned back at you. “You know I like my downtime. I just thought I’d send this your way.” An email pinged just in time and you scrolled over to open it, receiving a screenshot she’d attached. 

Darren Cross on Google+ of all things was spouting some nonsense. You read it aloud, spying Tony half turning from the oven to try and listen in. “Technology will never be the same. Pym Tech is working on a historic project that will change the technological landscape. Shame StarkIndustries has no interest in sharing this future.” You couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Do we even have an up Google+ account?” He’d tried to @-attach the company, but there was no link. 

“Uh- excuse me-” Tony flipped a burner off, settling the back of his hand on his hip as he turned fully. “Did my former PR person just ask what social media accounts we own?  Because I have a major problem with that.” Teasing you, obvious with the grin he served it with. 

Still, since he was questioning your prowess- and possibly insinuating you’d grown lazy, you shot a dry look his way. “I imagine we have a locked dormant account so nobody can pick up the username, but what I’m asking is if we have someone on it. Because… seriously… Google+?” And Darren had self proclaimed to be a rival of Stark Industries. What a joke. 

Tony turned back to his pan. “Next time tell me to shut up before I make myself look bad.” 

“But how will you ever learn then?” Smiling sweetly at him and then looking back at Pepper’s chat window, where she was trying to hide her laughter. “Just ignore him. He got caught red-handed trying to peep into our labs on New Year’s. He’s just trying to annoy me.” 

She put her chin in her palm. “Is it working?” 

“Well you called me on a Saturday, so…” 

A look of mock-offense bloomed over her face as she put a hand to her chest. “Oh. Well my apologies then, your majesty. I thought it was worth looking at. You know the media is going to be all over it.” 

You couldn’t help a little giggle. “Apology accepted. And- yeah. That’s what he wants. But we’ll just ice him and I’m sure eventually he’ll go back to leaving well enough alone.” 

“Has ignoring anyone ever worked out for us?” Tony wondered loudly from his spot at the stove. Very apropos, no doubt. 

The next sigh left whether or not you wanted to. “Yeah. ...alright. Keep an eye on him, Pep. Quietly. Don’t engage. But just-” 

“Make sure he’s not up to something insidious? I’ll put him on my list. My long, long, long list.” 

You put your hands together. “Thank you, Pepper. You’re doing all the hard work.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Giving you a wave before she disconnected the call. 

Tony came around just as you pushed the tablet away, setting down a plate in front of you. A perfectly sliced and put together BLT. “He knows we can release the footage of him trying to break into our labs, right?” 

“He was probably counting on us retaliating. It’ll start a dialogue, even if it’s negative. Better not to give in to him. We’ll let him stamp his feet and make a fool of himself and then, if we want, we can pretend to take pity on him. If it’s convenient for us.” Tilting your head up, you switched gears. “Thanks for lunch.” 

Settling a hand on the back of your chair he leaned in to press a light kiss to your lips. “You’re welcome.” Another kiss, and then, “You remind me more every day why it’s not a good idea to mess with you. It’s scary. In a hot way.” 

Your nose crinkled, a giggle escaping. “It’s a shame nobody else wants to learn that lesson.” 

A happy little miaow jingled from just underneath the table and Tony turned his attention away, bending down to pick up the vibrating ball of fuzz that was a misbehaving Dvahli. “Is it lunch time, Li? You want some bacon?” In a lilt of a singsong tone.

“You’re teaching her to beg for scraps.” Tone making it clear you were very dissatisfied. 

He walked back to the counter with her tucked in his arm. “Oh. We’re way past teaching.” Setting her down, he waggled a crispy piece just in front of her. “Bacon?” She did a good enough job of standing on her back paws to try and claw at it.

If they weren’t so cute you might have made a bigger fuss about it. 

                                                    ---

A few days later, just as you were returning from a late lunch meeting- sandwiched in between a personal calendar meeting (getting a little anxious seeing how packed your year was already becoming), just as you sat down at your desk, Pepper poked her head in the door. “Do you have a minute?” 

“I have about fifteen seconds. What’s up?” Waking your computer up while waving her in at the same time. You had a phone call soon- she knew that. So this was probably important. 

Coming in, and closing the door behind her, she held a sticky-note on her finger. “WHiH called- they want a quote.” 

“And you told them no.” Not looking at her as you quickly sorted through a few emails, trying to find something for the next meeting. A new one came in- something from Maria for Damage Control about new hires. It had to be added to the list.

“It wasn’t from Christine.” 

“That whole network’s goal is to try and take down Stark Industries, it doesn’t matter if it wasn’t Christine.” Not getting vexed yet- Pepper knew better than this. But then… 

“The guy said they’re finishing up a report about the crime rates dropping in New York City- comparing them with other places… and saying they’re going to credit the Avengers. They wanted a soundbyte.” 

Your hands paused in their furious typing. Only to look up at her for a moment. “That’s a trap.” 

She frowned. “Maybe they wanna turn over a new leaf? I haven’t heard anything about Christine in a while…” 

“That’s a trap.” Doubling down. 

“Alright. Fine. Let’s assume it is. How? How could that turn into something bad? Seems like good free press. And a good chance to start patching relations after that outburst.” Crossing her arms loosely. 

You couldn’t help the face you made at her. “I don’t care about them. Or what our public relations looks like in regards to them. This is a trap- they want me to pat myself on the back? Just so something bad can happen and they’ll turn around and talk about how I’m an asshole and so high up on my horse I’m not seeing the bigger picture-” 

“Okay- alright. No quote.” Stopping your tirade. She turned to go but before she did, “It was about the Avengers, you know. Not you.” 

This struck you in a weird way. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know it’s not. But. ...not everything- not everyone is always coming after you alone.” 

“Even more reason not to talk to them, if they’re trying to bring down the whole team.” You weren’t really sure you liked what she was implying. ...it was your job to be overly defensive. Not just for yourself… “Are we okay here, Pepper?” Asking her honestly. 

She nodded. “Yeah. We’re okay.” 

                                                    ---

The other shoe dropped a little more than a week later. You’d come home from too many meetings to find Tony had coaxed the team together for dinner. Although he assured you it had been your idea, you couldn’t really remember. You certainly hadn’t scheduled a team dinner- but, maybe he meant in a broader sense… 

It really didn’t matter. It was the thought that counted. And having everyone together in the same room was nice, especially after Steve had been gone for so long- and then you’d immediately gotten very busy. Maria tried to take up a few minutes of your time to sidebar and talk about work. An idea that you entertained until Tony broke the both of you up with firm admonishment. 

“And you say I work too much.” 

Was it really too much to ask, that a night like this could just be normal? That this could be your normal? The universe seemed to think so. Just as everyone’s drinks had been refreshed and Clint was in the middle of a story about how someone on fifth Ave nearly knocked his bike over in the road, JARVIS killed everyone’s good time. 

At least he apologized first. “Sorry for the interruption. Four simultaneous bombings have just been reported in Hell’s Kitchen.” 

Everyone immediately went into high alert. You jumped to your feet, going over to turn a tablet on the wall. “What buildings went down?” Who was up to what now? 

Four coordinates lit up on a map. “Warehouse buildings. All owned under shell corporations.” 

Tony stepped aside you, keying in a few things, pulling files. Following trails until- “Russian mafia holdings.” 

Natasha’s voice piped up from behind you, “This seems like more of a local law enforcement thing. I think we should take a breath here.” 

Thor knocked back the rest of his drink. “Yes, I say let your people handle it. It’s not always a great honor to get involved in petty squabbles.”

Clint seemed to agree. “A little below the Avengers’ pay grade, if you ask me… getting mixed up with mafia trouble is probably not something we wanna do.” 

You half turned, looking at the group- still sitting around the coffee table. All looking at you. Steve frowned. “People could be hurt over there.”  JARVIS answered, "Emergency services are already on all four premises."

“...not that I wanna get involved…” Bruce’s hesitance drew everyone’s eyes his way. “-could be someone trying clean up the streets.” 

There were too many angles here. The buildings themselves weren’t really on the public map. They just looked like factories- mills- places the average person went to work. But what if someone knew what Tony had pulled up? Mafia stuff? Maybe Bruce was right. But, in either case- 

Natasha was also right. This seemed like… not an Avengers level threat. ...not yet anyway. It was definitely a coordinated effort. Someone was up to something. “Honey?” Tony was looking at you-

Everyone was looking at you. Waiting for you to say something. You let go of a long breath. “And WHiH just posted such a lovely article about how crime rate had gone down thanks to us.” If you could only prove those assholes had something to do with this… what a field day you’d have with that. It seemed entirely too convenient. That they’d come sniffing around with that drivel only for this to happen. Collapsing the panel on the wall you shrugged. “Alright. The cops can have it.” 

Tony put his arm around your waist. “I’m sure the mayor won’t call the red phone in your office over it.” 

A bombing was a serious thing- four bombings was even worse. Coordinated. An obvious effort to get rid of something. Or someone. Or- really- an entire organization? Someone with a lot of influence had to be behind this. Or a lot of willpower. 

You’d just have to hope they were possibly on the side of good.

But. As a wise man once said… 

It wasn’t your job to clean up everything. 

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Twenty

[jewpacabruhs]

hi guys! so this post is gonna be a rambly mess but fuck it, here ya go. if u dont wanna read all of it, u dont have to; skip down to underneath the tl;dr in bold text for the important bits :)

(there’s a brief & non-graphic mention of a triggering topic in the next paragraph. please be sure to skip this next paragraph if the thought of suicide is going to upset you.)

alright. so i didn't share this originally, but i spent some time in a psychiatric unit this month. suicidality related. 1000% unrelated from anything online, i've just struggled with depression for a very long time & shit happens. i didn't intend to share that at all & i certainly don't want pity; i'm telling u guys bc my time in the unit was extremely eye-opening, and i have some insight to share. since i've gotten out, with the help of my newest anti-depressant (fourth time’s a charm lol), i'm seeing the world in a better light & i finally have the energy to and the interest in exploring what it has to offer, which frankly i've never had before.

with that has come the realization that i’ve come to do something very unhealthy, and i want to break out of it. and that’s how much i’ve come to rely on my fandom life. i don’t want to get too candid publicly, but mental illness took a lot from me, and i lost most of my life, my future, and my options in the last few years. next year will involve a lot of working on rebuilding things. but in the time that i let things fall to pieces around me & i absolutely couldn’t get out of bed, i had a phone and i had a laptop. so when i couldn’t get up and physically face the world, i built up a new world online.

and i don’t think that’s a completely uncommon experience. most people are able to better manage things, and evenly juggle real life with an internet life (like i did back in middle school), because most people can’t abandon their real lives entirely like i managed to; but i do think a lot of people nowadays rely on their fandom life and their fandom friends when their irl situation isn’t ideal. and that’s an excellent coping mechanism in theory, but i think it’s debilitating in the long run.

forgive me for sounding like an old person, but i’m a heavy nostalgist and a bit of an anarcho-primitivist in that i resent modern technology's influence on society - but that hasn't stopped me from letting it be a big part of my life out of accessibility. the internet kept me occupied during my low points, and i became dependent, but i've realized i don't wanna live like that anymore. i’m vaguely grateful that it usually kept me busy enough that i wasn’t thinking the bad thoughts as frequently, but more than anything, i’m resentful that my grasp on reality got lost somewhere along the way, and i let time get away from me, too. because, again, an internet life should be a fun hobby, but when it’s a lifestyle and it becomes an excuse to avoid dealing with our real lives, bc our real lives aren’t as rewarding or as exciting, then it’s unhealthy.

everything’s at our fingertips these days, but i deeply believe human interaction, fun, and fulfillment shouldn't be spoon-fed to us through a screen. it's easy access, sure, but at the end of the day, is it any way to live? compared with how much world there is to see, i’m no longer satisfied with the thought of sitting behind a screen for another five years. i used to be, when i had no hope and no drive, but not anymore. i’m not gonna let myself settle for staying busy with the thing that takes the least amount of work & movement. not only because i’m a whole ass adult who needs to start sorting my shit out for the long run, but also because i deserve better.

and it’s fucking hard! especially for those of us who are neurodivergent. i dropped out of school three fucking times due to crippling social anxiety and utter lack of ambition and energy. i lost all my friends through that (making friends post-school is hard af); the thought of having to go out and remake friends makes me wanna fucking cry. i have a hard enough time making friends online, i’ve even come to struggle with correspondence thru text & email. phone calls? outta the question. but that’s therapy shit, and i know i’ll get there. i just have to stop putting life off by staying in a comfort zone.

and it’s interesting; depression and anxiety really took everything from me, and while i was dwelling in my own misery, my adhd worsened and decided to make my entire brain revolve around my fixations, so i didn’t have to deal with my own life. can’t think about how much you wanna die and how much you can’t function in society if you’re busy thinking about a ship you like or a character you find interesting. so i latched onto the safety of that. aggressively. problem with that is that once you let your “happiness” (as much of it as you can feel in the midst of your depressive episode, anyway) revolve around an interest, that’s all you have. so you become dependent and reliant, and that’s never good, especially if you’re someone like me who feels pathetic & ridiculous when you realize it’s all you can bring yourself to care about. 

and i think that’s what i realized in the psych ward (where there’s legitimately nothing to do; i did soooo much more thinking than usual, and i already think too much haha); mental illness will try to fuck up your lifestyle, so you have to eradicate the things that’ll let that happen in the first place. for example, like i said, my adhd tries to counteract my depression by making me hyperfixate and/or hyperfocus on something else to protect me from bad personal thoughts, and that’s good in theory (doing something you enjoy when you feel bad, to distract urself, is the number one most basic coping skill you learn), but i can’t do it in moderation, i let it run my life, and that’s made me worse in the long run. so i have to force myself out of that completely and not let myself fixate on things that make me happy in the short term, but don’t ultimately further me as a person. having fixations helped me through some awful times, but now i need to force myself to grow up, you know?

and while tumblr and other social media is an excellent way to indulge those fixations, it’s an aggressive enabler, in more ways than one. what i mean by that... okay, so while i’m the type of person who self-destructs while unhealthy, i do occasionally lash out. and i know some people completely explode rather than implode when they’re not doing well. and that’s how you get discourse, i think. because when mental illness makes us care much more about our interests than we ought to, and someone has a differing opinion about that interest, the instinct is of course to attack, if you’re that kind of person. i don’t think i am, but depression and boredom go hand in hand, and i might be inclined to care more about discourse than i would if i were healthy, purely because it’s entertaining and something to do. 

that’s a long winded way of saying, while i stand wholeheartedly by my past positions, i do regret starting shit in the first place. i’m not the kind of person who genuinely cares about much and i have little to no sense of morality (im a chaotic neutral bastard), so the fact i was bored enough to start shit really goes against my character and says a lot about how bad i’ve been. so i apologize for all that. but, again, i think that's just what happens when something is truly your everything. and i think the chronic negativity of modern fandom is a result of how damn seriously we all take it, because we care so much and we’re so dependent. fandom’s supposed to be fun, but it’s just too damn stressful this way.

idk my point in sharing all this, but i do think it'd be cool if this kinda got yall thinking. even if you don't engage in discourse, if fandom is just one of your only consistent sources of happiness, that's not healthy either. we all gotta break out & exist more & louder & more positively. and unfortunately i think tumblr fandom (and maybe all modern fandom) is no longer a place that encourages positivity and health.

but for all my criticism, i do just wanna say how eternally grateful i am that i was fortunate enough to meet the people i call my best friends through tumblr. they're my family, truly, and all the bullshit in this fandom has been worth it simply because it brought them to me. i love them to death and i always will, even if interests change, even if we grow apart, even if we quit speaking entirely in the next few years, i love them with my whole heart in a way that transcends a simple fandom friendship and i'm so glad we bonded over sp in the first place. that’ll never change.

i will also always love south park itself. now that the cat's outta the bag about my hospital visit, i can brag about my most pathetic and obsessive accomplishment; the fact that i've never let circumstance stop me from watching a new south park as it airs, and i've now watched sp on 1) an airplane, and 2) in a psych ward. i win for most dedicated fan tbfh. dsjkf & i'll keep that tradition, and i'll still watch this stupid show til it ends! it'll always hold a special place in my heart, & kyman's still my most meaningful & long-term ship. i'll never stop loving it. 

tl;dr

so, to recap; for 2020 i'm making myself step back from fandom (not just sp fandom, but fandom in general) and quit letting my world revolve around my fixations so i can enjoy the outside world a little more, mental illness be damned, and the first step is gonna be quitting tumblr. this blog won't be deleted and i may occasionally post (maybe when next season airs) but you're absolutely free to unfollow bc this'll be a mostly inactive blog. i’m also unfollowing everyone, so mutuals, please don’t take that personally. 

i will, however, try to write more prolifically, bc fic writing is something i'm able to do in moderation & enjoy, and i hope to get back into it. so if you'd like, you can keep an eye out for any upcoming fanfic i may post - my ao3 is leere. i also have snapchat, instagram, & twitter my mutuals can ask for asap (bc ill be logging out for good by the afternoon of the 31st, which is tomorrow) - though i'm not very active on any of them. still, if you wanna have access to me, i’ll be there.

i want some connection to the fandom still, albeit without letting my life revolve around it, so i'll be starting a new open-to-the-public kyman discord server! the post with the invite for that will go up soon. nvm im too anxious  

thank you for reading, thank you for the good times (thnks fr th mmrs), and i hope everyone has a good 2020! 

#txt #mine

[shittyfandomimagines]

When You’re Ready

y’all I found this old gem, headcannon.

This shit is dumb, sorry.

Gif creds to owner

“I’m not coming back Shawn, I need a break” the words fell off my tongue before I even had a chance to process them. I knew in my heart it was exactly what I needed too, not even because of our argument.

“Baby,” his voice came off strangled, I saw the tears instantly and it absolutely killed me. It didn’t matter how many times we’ve fought or wanted to scream, the tears of someone you love is the hardest tears to see.

“I didn’t mean what I said, at all. I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me like this. I can’t fucking lose you.” He sobbed and I had to choke back my own. I needed to be strong to make it through this.

“I’m not breaking up with you Shawn,” I mumbled and he looked up so quickly that I was convinced that he’d obtain whiplash.

“What?” He asks with the hope of a small child.

“I’m taking a break, I need time to become myself again. Become someone who will be herself even when you’re not around. I give myself to you and your lifestyle so much that I never realized I don’t take care of myself the way I should. You were right when you said that I depend too much on you and that I’m too needy.”

“God, I should’ve never said that. Fuck. If anything, I’m needier than you are. I want you to be the happiest version of yourself and I’m so sorry I’m causing this much of a riff.”

“Shawn, this was a problem within me before we even had this fight tonight. If I’m being honest, I’m more upset with myself than the fucking fight, I’m honestly over that. I just don’t need to be with you anymore.”

“What?” His voice crumbled once again, I mentally punched myself for not analyzing my words further.

“No no, I want to be with you and I still fucking love you. I’m just apparently really bad with grammar. I mean I need to take some time away from you. I need to breathe and become me again. Please.” I explain myself and I see him relax some.

“I’ll wait for you. Even if it’s 10 years from now and you’re taking your sweet time, I’d be waiting with open arms.” He whispers as he kisses my forehead gently.

“I’m going to stay with a friend. I’m going to go pack and I’ll let you know who I’m staying with, I promise I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for it, honey, it would hurt me worse to know you were suffocating in your own skin while I paraded around without knowledge of it.” He kisses my forehead once again and I engulf him in a hug.

“Shawn, I fucking love you. Okay?” I ask and he nods before repeating it.

———

“Today we have Shawn Mendes in the station with us, how are ya, buddy?” I almost flipped that channel but I heard them say his name, my heart rupturing some.

“I am doing good, you guys doing okay?” He replies and my heart ached at the sound of his sweet voice coming through the speakers of my car.

I hadn’t heard his voice in almost 4 months, it was so hard not to call him every day and tell him about my day. Or to drive to his apartment to make those disgusting ass oatmeal cookies that he loved dearly, he was the worst assistant when making them, but it always made us laugh. Or to call him to tell him I heard his album that he dropped last month, that I was so proud of his lyrical talent.

“We heard from a little birdie that you were releasing a new single today from the album?” They ask and I heard his fucking giggle, I always loved that giggle. It was the one of pure joy when his music was about to be released and he’d get to make the fans happy. I figured it would be WWYITM, it’s a very radio song (which isn’t a bad thing).

“I heard from a little birdie that you guys were gonna play it today.” He stated boldly and it made me laugh, he’s silly as hell.

“Well, you heard the boss. Here is When You’re Ready by Shawn Mendes.” The guy said and I had to stop myself from slamming on my brakes in the middle of the fucking interstate. When I heard this song when it was released, I knew it was for sure meant for me to hear... hell, he used what we said before I left. Not to help that it was the last song on the album, it sealed the deal.

The song played and I had tears running down my face rapidly, I fucking missed this guy. I had solely been off social media sites, besides when my friend told me that his album came out, I had started to eat healthier and workout, heck I even gave up coffee!

I got a new job that actually makes me beyond happy and I fit in so much better, my coworkers had so much more in common with me. I felt happy and airy, constantly.

So when his song played, I was trying to figure out why the hell I hadn’t run back into those loving arms yet. Why I hadn’t told him all the good I had been feeling? If I love him so dearly, why the fuck am I not with him?

“Wow! What a good song, dude. I have to ask, are you and your long term lover Y/n broken up? That's some deep stuff.” The guy who finally said his name, Lewis, asked and I feared the answer. I was so glad I had pulled into my friend's driveway before I had a heart attack.

“You’re right, it is some deep stuff. I am still very much in love with her and very much in a relationship. As any couple has felt this way, we’re going through things. We’re 21-year-olds who are trying to live in this society, we have things we need to work on and there’s not a day that I want to waste on not waiting for her... even when I have her, I’ll wait on her forever. Something that good shouldn’t slip through your fingertips. I’d wait forever, as long as she waits for me. She’s the one for me.”

“That’s so touching, I’m so glad that there are couples like you in this world. I’m also so glad you could stop by when we got to show this region that beautiful song.” Lewis complimented before Shawn said his goodbyes too.

I cried my eyes out at his little mantra, I didn’t even process that I was backing out of the parking spot. My mind leads me to where my heart needed to be... with him.

I was parked outside of his house, our house? I sat on the small bench we bought at some thrift store, I refused to buy some fancy ass one. I heard the car door slam and feet running towards me, looking up to see Shawn’s hopeful eyes.

“Y/n.” He spoke like he was out of breath, but he wasn’t.

“Hey, can we talk?” I ask and he nods quickly.

“It’s pretty hot out here baby, you still have your key. You could’ve gone in.” He scolds and I laugh a little.

“I’m so sorry,” I was already a crying mess the minute I walked into his house. I saw all of our photos were in the same place, the house was tidy and it was like I never left. So many memories flooded through.

“I know baby, there’s nothing to be sorry about. God, I love you so much and I will wait until you are ready.” He has some tears too.

“I heard your interview earlier, I was driving home from work and it just hit me so hard. I heard your album last month, which was amazing by the way, but like it hit different today because I knew it was time. I’ve been doing so well recently and I just know you’re the missing piece. I need you.” I was talking so fast but he listened so intently.

He didn’t say anything but he kissed me so hard, wrapping his arms around me. I didn’t know how much I missed his hugs and loving. He pulled back to start to wipe my tears off, he had so much love in his eyes.

“The words in the song are beyond true. I went to my dad after you left, he told me that you were the one, he could just tell. He told me to keep my head held high because a love like ours would last a lifetime. Because I know he’s right, I didn’t even fight it because we make it through tours and time zones, it’s always been us. I know love the most when I’m with you and you’re in my arms.”

“You’re the best thing in my life. I could never find someone like you again in this lifetime. So if you’d have me, I would love to come home.”

“It hasn’t been home since you left, so baby... welcome back.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes masterlist #shawnmendesmasterlist #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawnmendesangst #shawnmendesfluff #shawnmendesblurbs #shawnmendeswriting #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes preference #shawn mendes imagines #shawnmendesimagines #shawn mendes shit

[fizzyxcustard]

Mistake.

Requested to be re-uploaded from AO3 and my previous blog by @nowiloveandwilllove

AO3 page here.

Masterlist here 

Pairings: Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader, Lee Pace x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Bad language

Notes/Comments: Any imagines can be requested as fics. Also any of my older fics from AO3 can be requested as re-posts. This was originally posted over 3 parts, but I’ve decided to just post it as a big one shot. 

Follow Forever tag list: @himoverflowers @shikin83 @theincaprincess@deepestfirefun @nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl @mynameisnoneya1991@blankdblank @captainrainbowpanda @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @trees-and-ink @inumorph @leah-halliwell92@greendragonette @msjava1972 @thequeenoferebor

You missed Richard. In every sense. His laugh, his voice, his touch. There was nothing about him you didn’t miss. You wanted to be held, kissed, made love to. And it was becoming frustrating. So much so that you were pleasuring yourself most nights, especially when you had been talking to him on the phone. He was currently filming Hannibal in Canada, and you had agreed to accompany Lee Pace, Richard’s friend and Hobbit co-star to Hobbit Con in Bonn, Germany.

The hustle and bustle of the convention centre kept you occupied. And since you had agreed not to directly communicate with Lee, you kept yourself out of the way and scoured through all the merchandise at the large halls. Richard and Lee had agreed that you being seen with Lee would arouse suspicions of something going on between you both, seeing as rumours of yours and Richard’s year long relationship had already surfaced in online forums and social media.

Nights were the worst. You lay in bed in your hotel room which was next door to Lee’s and cried. You reached into the empty space beside you, wanting Richard there.

On the last night of being in Germany, your flight home at eleven the following morning, you decided to go and spend time with Lee. He had become a good friend of yours also, and Richard specifically wanted you both to attend the convention together so you had company. Richard had used his subtle persuasion to get you a ticket to the event free of charge.

You knocked on Lee’s door and waited. Then the door opened and the huge form of Lee towered before you. “Hey, girl, I was just about to order some wine. Do you want to join me?” he asked, giving you a big smile.

“Yeah, okay,” you replied, walking into the room. It was a typical man’s room: clothes on the floor, clothes in the chair; laptop, phone and charger on the desk in an untidy heap.

Lee called downstairs on the phone next to the bed, ordering a large bottle of red wine for two. You sat in the chair opposite the bed, but first had to take his worn clothing from it. “Sorry,” he said, grabbing the clothing from you, a gentle blush of embarrassment washing his face. “I need to pack shortly. I haven’t had chance to catch up with you today. How are things?”

You began to speak as Lee threw his clothing into his open suitcase, now and again turning to look at you. “It was okay. I just miss Richard,” you admitted, putting your head down. “It’s hard being without him for long stints, especially at night.”

“I get that, I really do,” Lee answered. He stopped the task in hand and sat down on the bed, looking at you. “This was why he asked for you to come with me. He knows that you get a bit lonely, and wanted you to be doing something exciting. It’s a lonely life in general for an actor sometimes.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” you replied.

Once the wine had arrived, Lee poured you a glass and offered it to you. You gladly took it from him, and allowed the warm liquid to glide down your throat, easing your tension. Your conversation continued, it mainly being around some of the fan questions Lee has been asked, and then his plans to go home to upstate New York to spend time with his dogs, and then begin work again.

“I know Richard wouldn’t mind but you're more than welcome to stay with me for a few nights if you want,” Lee offered. “The flight out was free with your ticket here anyway, and I can help with your flight back to the States. Don’t go back to England and be by yourself.”

You smiled at Lee, thankful for this thoughtful nature. He really had become a very close friend to you and Richard. By now you were sat on the bed next to him with your leg tucked under yourself. Without even realising the gap between you both had started to close. You wanted that comfort, that warmth, the intimacy. God, you missed Richard...with everything inside you.

“I don’t want to be on my own,” you whispered, looking at Lee.

“You don’t have to be,” he replied. And within a few seconds, his lips were against yours. Briefly you felt that long overdue warmth spread through you, but the cold, harsh reality of who you were kissing shot through your conscious mind like a bullet. And you gasped, pulling away from Lee.

***

Tension sat between you and Lee, becoming so tight that you could not breathe. Richard rang and text you every day, asking how you were and all you could do was lie and say everything was fine. Fine. Things were far from fine. You were staying at Lee’s home in upstate New York, not wanting to be alone, and all you could do was replay that haunting memory of kissing him, and it was ripping you apart with guilt and shame. Your need for companionship and intimacy had taken over, temporarily over ruling your love and devotion to Richard. But you had to tell him what had happened between you and Lee. There was no way you could hold it back from him; Richard deserved to know.

The day arrived, seeming to come around with lightning speed, when you were to see Richard back at his apartment. Lee had been kind enough to drive you down to the city, and the whole time you had been silent in the car, watching the buildings and vehicles flash past you in a motion stricken blur. “I’m going to tell him,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Who?” Lee asked, looking across at you.

You never even looked at Lee as you replied. “Richard. He needs to know what happened. I love him far too much to keep this from him, and if it means he breaks up with me, then so be it. I can’t lie to him and act as though everything is fine.”

“We could both potentially lose him,” Lee said sadly. “He’s a damn good friend to me.”

“And that’s why he needs to know, Lee. We both betrayed him, and I can’t live with myself and this weight.” You began to sob, seeing Richard’s face before your eyes as you closed them from the outside world. “I was stupid and weak, giving in to what I was craving.”

“We both were....”

Lee dropped you off outside Richard’s apartment block, saying his farewells to you. “It’ll all work out how it’s meant to,” he said with a sigh and then gave you a weak smile before helping you with your suitcase from the back of the car and then disappeared down the street.

You walked into the lobby of the apartment block, trying to avert eye contact from the staff there, and head to the elevator.

Your breathing became quicker and your palms sweat as you approached Richard’s apartment door, knowing he was inside. “Please, help me,” you prayed.

You knocked.

Richard’s bright smile greeted you and then he took your hand, gently pulling you inside. You choked back the tears as he took you in his arms, closing the door and then kissed you softly. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, brushing his hand down your face and smiling down at you, his blue eyes alight with so much happiness. You were about to break all of that apart.

“I...missed you, too,” you wept. Then you pulled away.

He whispered your name and wound his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “What’s the matter, angel?” His face was full of concern for you.

You looked up at him, breaking even further inside. “I kissed Lee,” you said, the words tumbling from your mouth in one stroke.

Richard’s eyes widened, and then his brow furrowed and he looked away, shifting from you. He turned his back to you, his head down.

“I’ll leave,” you said. “I’m sorry.” There was no consolation you could offer to the man you loved after such an act.

As you left the apartment quickly, pulling your suitcase behind you, you never spoke a further word to him, or he to you. But as you closed the door behind you, you jumped at the sudden sound of something smashing inside.

You looked up at the ceiling, feeling the tears flow down your cheeks, and you walked away.

***

You sat in a coffee shop two blocks away from Richard’s apartment and you stared out the window, watching the yellow cabs zip past. Everyone was going about their lives, not caring that you had broken your lover’s heart by being selfish and kissing his best friend just because you were lonely.

Suddenly your phone rang and Richard’s name flashed on the screen. Your heart leapt in your chest and you reached across the table to pick it up, your hand shaking. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply and answered. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asked simply. “Come back and we can talk. You have nowhere to go.”

“I’ll find somewhere,” you replied, sighing. “There are plenty of hotels.”

“No, you’ll come back,” he demanded. “I’ll come and find you if I have to. I’m not having you walking the streets when I have...” he stopped. “I have...a spare room.”

You could see the way this was going from here. Of course Richard didn’t intend to continue your relationship; he felt that he needed to make sure you were safe until you could get home, continuing to be the gentleman he naturally was.

The conversation drifted off as an awkward silence weighed heavily between you both. Until Richard spoke again. “Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

You knew full well that Richard would not stand down so easily; in the rare times that you had argued or debated, he stood up to you and would not back down, and this was going to be one of those times. You sensed it, and with another sigh, you told him where you were.

And ten minutes later he appeared at the door, stepping inside and looked around the almost empty coffee shop. His eyes fell on you as you sat alone on the right hand side of the building next to the window with a still full mug of chai coffee at your arm.

Richard never ordered anything and sat opposite you. You couldn’t even look him in the eye, still ashamed of your betrayal.

“Look at me, please,” he whispered.

Hearing his voice with a pleading edge made you cry, and in response, to your amazement, he took your hand. “There are things you aren’t telling me,” he said, and that was when you finally looked at him. The guilt was consuming you. How could you have betrayed the very man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? The man you hoped one day would be your husband and father of your children. Did he even want that with you?

“I miss you when you’re not with me, and I know I’m selfish to expect you to be with me all the time...but we’re apart for weeks at a time, and I love you...” you sobbed, feeling his hand tighten around yours. “I wanted your warmth, to be able to lie next to you, curl up in your arms. I’m so alone without you.”

You were terrified at Richard’s response to your confession and you looked at him, bracing yourself. But he just smiled weakly at you, nudging in closer so he was leaning across the table.

“I’ve contemplated asking you a few times if you’d travel with me. But I...” he stopped and swallowed hard. “I...erm, wasn’t sure if you were serious enough to want to.”

“Of course I’m serious about you. Why didn’t you think I was?” you said loudly, not caring if any of the other customers heard.

“I’ll be straight with you: when we met, I didn’t want a relationship. My job was everything; I’ve had opportunities given to me and I wanted to pursue them, and I didn’t care about much else. But deep down I want to settle down, angel, and maybe I’ve been scared I’d never find it. I feel I have...with you. I didn’t know if you wanted what I do from the relationship.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’d be happy to come with you wherever you go. And I want us to be settled as well. More than anything.”

Richard leaned further across the table and kissed you softly. Then he drew away, looking you in the eyes. “Forgive yourself for what’s happened. You told me straight, and that shows how honest you are. Let’s move on.”

#Richard armitage #lee pace #real person fiction #fanfiction #writing #request #repost from original blog #Richard armitage x reader #Richard armitage x you #Richard armitage x fem!reader #lee pace x reader #lee pace x you #lee pace x fem!reader #kissing another man

[theliterateape]

The Regret Soup of Temper Lost and Reason Found

by Don Hall

Despite the ongoing parade of grown people acting like angry children in 2021 America, I'd like to hope that with age comes some modicum of temperance.

As I sit in the desert sun smoking Captain Black Cherry pipe tobacco and sipping on a Modelo, I drift into that perilous territory of regretful nostalgia. I remember those many times when, in an effort to exert control of a situation, I lost my ever-loving shit and resembled nothing less than a random Wal Mart customer throwing a tantrum at an insult or request to follow the rules in place.

It's a bit embarrassing to think of the occasions in my youth (and, in some cases, well beyond what any normal standard of youth could entail) when I lost control, screaming and thumping and doing my damnedest to intimidate someone enough to simply have them acquiesce to my demands. Tantrum-throwing is an art-form and I was a master at it.

The times they be a changing. 

I'm no longer angry. I mean, pretty much at all. Either I wised up, find myself lacking the energy to become outraged, or am truly embracing my More Spock, Less Kirk mantra. Whichever the case the rage has all but subsided completely. That's good for me because so many others are in full-on battle mode at the drop of a hat and these days that can equal serious injury or death.

About 30 murders nationwide have been attributed to incidents that started with road rage. More than 12,500 injuries to driver violence, out of 10,000 car accidents since 2007. Of the deaths related to road rage, most have been considered deliberate murders.

SOURCE

Anger, frustration, and other mental stress can trigger abnormal heart rhythms that may lead to sudden death, new research shows. In the first study of its kind, a group of researchers has demonstrated that mental stress alone can provoke these dangerous heart rhythms.

SOURCE

Although anger can be channelled constructively, it seems clear that aggressive behaviour can compound. Aggressive actions most often increase the likelihood of further aggression, and enacted aggression does not reduce aggressive impulses.

Violence and aggression beyond a mild degree almost always involve additional factors. A tendency towards impulsivity and keeping company with delinquent peers are risk factors.

SOURCE

When I see a woman screaming at a convenience store employee because he refuses to sell her a case of Miller Lite until she puts on a mask, I start to judge. And then I remember that time when members of an improv group I was in decided to complain about the lack of audience to a point that I threw a bar stool across the room.

When I watch a video of a man so angry that the McDonald's he goes to consistently puts onions on his "made-to-order" hamburger that he starts pulling cash registers off the counter and smashing them, I think What a fucking asshole. Then I recall that one time when I jumped on top of the hood of a Subaru because he was banging into the back of my car in his own moment of pique due to my shitty parking.

When I hear about Frederick Joseph routinely provoking white people with his camera and charges of racism (including a woman putting her feet up on a plane and a drunk woman telling him to 'stay in his hood') I think that the only difference between him and the people he films is who is doing the filming. The idea that Joseph has never lost his temper in public would indicate a level of maturity that his ongoing obsession with garnering social status by instigating incidents does not support.

"Say it one more time and I'll kick your ass!"

The nerds were a little drunk on wine coolers and false bravado so I knew there would be no such ass-kicking in the near future. Having been a few bar fights in my day, I knew the louder the bark, the less vicious the bite.

It was an odd thing to get so ginned up about.

I had been invited to a party by a theater friend. I wanted to get out, thought I might meet a girl, and the prospect of free booze was always a winning strategy for me in those days.

The party was full-on nerd. There was a party-wide game of Vampire going on. Cosplay Nosferatu everywhere, pretending be the sexy creatures of the night in clothing that was perhaps a bit too tight and made many of the dudes in tow look like overstuffed sausages with capes and slicked back hair.

The thing I said that got me in trouble came when I encountered three incels arguing the merits of Star Wars. I love Star Wars but I'm not speaking in Wookie any time soon. At one point in the heated discussion over the feasibility of the Millennium Falcon to go into hyper-drive with a broken something one of the nerds looks at me. "You joining in or just lurking?"

"Oh. Just listening. When it comes to Star Wars, I think I was Lucas's audience of choice. I was twelve years old when it hit the theaters and the whole franchise is just a space opera written for twelve year olds."

It was as if I had shat right there in their punch bowl.

There was no parking lot melee. The thing that perplexes me is how angry the subject matter spun everyone up. Sure, it's a movie that has crossed cultural boundaries and inspired billions to "use the Force," a tale of heroism at a time when we desperately need heroes, a milestone. But it's just a movie, right?

You'll discover that losing your temper is just that—a loss.

We've been this angry as a nation before. We've been this divided. The margins of society have been at war this aggressively many times. 1984. 1968. 1933. This partisan divide we all bemoan as if the failure of democracy is at hand is overstated and old hat. What's different is the speed and frequency at which we communicate this sense of cultural outrage. What's new is a series of social media algorithms designed to push the outrage to the front over anything else.

These algorithms intentionally exaggerate the reasons for the anger. The media, in a complete paralysis on how to deal with Twitter, reports news that 10,000 retweeted some hyperbole about police racism or vaccine authoritarianism as if 10,000 was a serious number. So we spend more of our time dwelling on our frustration and our anger sits ready, at a moment's notice, to explode.

Like a section of society bracing for a fight all the time, spurred on by our smartphones, we lose our shit more often without a single thought to what the expression of that anger will actually accomplish. All practicality is tossed out the window in order to exact revenge upon the microaggression or the guy who cut you off in traffic.

When my mother—a kind and loving soul, the type of person who goes out of her way to show generosity to anyone in need—expresses that she hates Donald Trump or any supporter of him, I am alarmed. Hatehas never been in her vocabulary but she says it without a thought these days. When ordinary people routinely use social media to wish rape, mayhem, and death on strangers they encounter online with the same casual nature one might merely flip someone off, we're in trouble.

1

Limit Your Presence on Every Social Media Platform

Sure, I was a belligerent manchild in my earlier days without the internet but I can also say without contradiction that worst threat I ever threw out in those spewing babyman incidents was an ass-whopping. No guns. No threats of lethal violence. No wishes of rape. No desire to get someone fired.

Add the secret sauce of hour by hour contact with assholes is not the desirable behavior. We already know that Instagram fucks up young girls, that TikTok is more addictive than sugar, that Faceborg is more like a hostile foreign nation than a communication platform.

It's unreasonable to get you to eliminate these outlets because they’re ingrained at this point but you can moderate your presence.

2

Stop Doomscrolling

We already know how fucking skewed and biased almost all media is today so give them less of your attention. Less swimming in the putrid pond of how awful the world is and more time focusing on what's right in front of you.

3

Examine the Pragmatics of Losing Your Temper

You'll discover that losing your temper is just that—a loss. And you will lose far more than your temper in the equation. Practice patience rather than a need for vengeance. Be less judgmental and more understanding.

If that all sounds a bit too kumbaya, try this—grow the fuck up. As a former raging shitass, a recovering rage-aholic, I had to grow up and become more rational and less emotional. If a hardcore RageBaby like myself can grow up, so can you and you’ll regret less in life if you start now.

Yes. I'm saying to suppress some of your emotions. At least in the Wal Mart or a nerd party.

#anger

[awakenedsadisticghosts]

Becca

Becca

(warning: This is vile and disgusting! You have been warned!)

Tags: Necrophilia, blood, murder, sex, serial killer, dismemberment

Words 2.2

Sometimes I must say my nightly hunting routines do get old quickly and not every expedition around town results in finding a special friend to play with. In late January, due to COVID-19 no one is out anymore, no one walks around anymore, and not as many people frequent bars or restaurants either. It gets extremely frustrating and can send me into a frenzy where my careful and meticulous ways become more chaotic. 

When My mind gets chaotic the voices and noises get louder and louder. The impulses get harder and harder to control and I am afraid that I will make a mistake. I need to be careful and I need to be discrete because I would rather die than be some thug convict, or some lab rat in a mental hospital. I would take my own life in a real vile and disgusting way. I have put a lot of thought into it, really I have and it would be truly epic where people would remember my name for years to come. I know you’re curious to know how I would off myself in a truly despicable way. 

Fuck you!

I would never deprive you of that kind of information. First would highly medicate myself because the amount of pain I will go through I don’t want to pass out. I want to stay awake and feel everything. Too much pain would cause me to pass out and further prolong my suicide, however too much medication would not allow me to function so it has to be perfect. 

 I would start with making small cuts all over my body. Deep cuts, shallow cuts and all different angles and areas. These cuts represent punishment for years of killing, raping, necrophilia, and all the things I have done. I would cut my penis and testicles off simply because without them I am no one. Severely tear and cut my achilles tendons because those are the toughest type of injury a person can sustain and would not allow me to walk the same ever again. Cut off my toes just in case I fully healed from the achilles tendon without my toes I would not be able to keep my balance. My ears because of all the screams and crying and pain I have heard represents my love for the kill. Cut my nipples off as that is my true signature and as I lay bleeding out I would draw a pentagram on the floor with my blood and lay my body parts on each of the points on the star with myself in the center. 

The pentagram is so outlandish that upon finding my body parts and my dead body within it would be completely against my fake persona. It would be the opposite of what everyone around me thinks I represent. Inside the pentagram I would finally slit my throat and let the blood flow until I was dead. 

I wonder what they would say about me after they found me like that.

This isn’t about me assholes, I am telling you about my girls, my kills and telling my story. This one is about Becca, sweet Becca. She was one that was very special to me and was not like the other sluts I found during my hunts. You see, I didn’t find her when I stalked around the city like a hungry wolf. She was someone I already knew but she fit my parameters very well.

Becca was a hot little 27 year old stoner chick I had known for a few years. We had not been friends directly, more like a friend of a friend. She was slender, small breasts, not much of an ass, but very attractive. Even though her tits and her ass were small, she had just enough to grab and would make any man happy. She definitely suffered from depression and had a fascination with the macabre, but what attracted me to her was her social media posts.

I have a type, each girl must be special and fit a very specific set of parameters. Young, small frame, long slender legs, dark or colored hair, tattoos, and promiscuous. The way they talk and move matters to me. I do not just pick up random girls, no they all mean something to me. There is a sexual nature to each of the girls I pick up and I would never pick a girl without the sexual attraction to them. Becca was special, more so than she thought.

Becca had a pretty big social media presence between the overly sexualized stories she writes, the overly sexualized posts as well as the suicidal posts. Each post I saw from her moved me closer to chaos as she was not initially in my plans and would have been safe if she did not have as much of a social media presence. When she posted about suicide that’s when my plans begun to fester, but more spefically when she posted the sexualized posts I knew that she was next.

I had begun to hear the voices specifically saying “Kill her, Kill her” and over time they got louder and louder. It was initially easy to block them out and I have to find a balance between my fake life and my real life. Becca proved to be a very difficult person in my life and although I grew fond of her, a real hatred grew inside of me as well. I had to come up with a plan, I had to deal with it and finish it.

It took weeks, but I came up with a plan to rent a cottage in the woods up in Northern, NH. I rented it a week before and told my wife we were going on vacation. This would give me a full week before my wife and I were going to be there. That was plenty of time to invite Becca to the cottage under the false pretense that we were going to celebrate my wife’s birthday. Sadly my wife was not going to be there and she would be walking into my trap.

My wife and Becca planned everything for our vacation and it was all going according to plan. All I had to do was call Becca and let her know of the “surprise party” and that I needed her help to set everything up. She fell for my trap and it was set. I told her not to worry about transportation as I can drive there. During the ride we spoke and shared personal stories, but it was mainly small talk. When we pulled up it was completely dark outside and isolated. 

Becca joked and stated “Watch out for leatherface!” I let out a small chuckle as I internalized the plan of killing her in my own head.

As we went inside I stated that we should go to bed and set everything up tomorrow as it was late.  Becca stated that she was going to stay up for a bit, which I offered her a cocktail. As I made us drinks I slipped a roofie into hers and mixed it in. It mixed so well and there was no difference in color between the two drinks. I brought her the drink and did not expect her to drink it all in one gulp. 

“Wow, Becca slow down!” I stated 

“Why I don’t have anywhere to go and I have nothing to do.” She replied

Becca pulled out a baggie and a small pipe and started smoking it. “You don’t mind it I smoke this here do you?” she asked

“Not at all” I replied back knowing that any minute she was going to be completely passed out and I could go to work. I had big plans for Becca and even know the voices got so loud and chaotic that I almost preemptively acted on the urges. 

“This fucking weed is killing me bro.” She stated as she started slouching down on the couch. As the seconds ticked by I could see that the roofie was taking effect and within minutes she was passed out. 

I went out to the car and pulled out my tools and went back inside. I took the living room and completely taped and quarantined it from the rest of the cottage so I can have an easier clean up. I organized my tools and prepared Becca by cutting and tearing her clothes off and then removing my own clothes. Her body was more impressive than I imagined and really slender. Her breasts were small, but enough to hold onto and her nipples were small. I removed her panties and smelled them. They smelled sweet. Her pussy was inviting and was small like her frame. 

Becca was not one to typically have painted nails which attracted my attention when I saw Molly. She did have a septum piercing which I ripped out of her nose…..So unattractive. Becca was special in that the chaos between the voices and noises led me to this very moment. I lean over her unconscious body and can feel her chest rise and fall. I take my knife and slide it up and down her body leaving small cuts on her stomach and chest. Down her pussy lips and down her legs cutting her along the way. I love how her blood flows. I start cutting her deeper and deeper and don’t want to kill until she wakes up.

As I am still cutting her I feel her body wriggle and move and start to awaken. She screams and yells “What the fuck are you doing you fucken freak, let me go!” As she screams I grab her throat and press my body onto hers so I can feel the moment life leaves her body. I squeeze my hands on her throat as she gasps for air still trying to fight me off. Her final gasps for air make her weak and her arms fall to the floor as she starts trembling violently underneath me. After a few seconds she lays still, motionless and the look in her eyes goes from complete fear to emptiness. 

Now my cock is harder than a rock and I feel the impulse to take her right there. I release my hands and grab her hips as I thrust my cock deep into her pussy. I fuck her tight little pussy as she lays dead and completely motionless and unable to fight me off. I violently penetrate her pussy and thrust hard enough to almost break her hips.  As I fuck her I stick my fingers deep into her cuts and rip the skin folds open tearing the skin.

I smack and punch at her as I fuck her pussy thrusting hard. I pull out of her pussy and begin fucking her asshole just as hard, thrusting my cock deep into her ass. I beat her ass till it is bloody and red and after a few minutes I feel my cock enlarge and I pull out and cum all over a towel. My sexual urges cannot be stopped and although I may not control the urges I am careful not to leave my DNA on, or inside of her. I am careful, and meticulous and have thought of everything. It is all according to the plan.

As the blood flows more and more I stand over Becca covered in her Blood. I start getting into a frenzy and start obsessively stabbing her all over. I stab her face, neck, chest and legs all over and I am not sure even how many times I did. I removed her head, hands, arms, legs and feet. I could see that the sun was almost coming up and I needed to finish.

Mistakenly during my frenzy I stabbed her eyes and they were bloody goop. I dragged her upstairs to the bathroom tub where I would leave her to be found later on. The next few hours are spent cleaning and taking down my kill room to restore the cottage back to how it was when we first arrived. It was clean and as though nothing happened here. I always go back and wear gloves, wipe down surfaces, and door knobs to eliminate any DNA or fingerprints. I take a shower and get dressed and sit in my car reflecting back on the events that just occurred. 

*UPDATE*

My wife and I were called a few days later and the owner of the cottage told us that the cottage was unavailable for the foreseeable future and will process a refund. My wife and I were saddened by the news, but it wasn’t until weeks later that we saw on the news that Becca died. Secretly, I love watching my kills on TV and reliving the moment although my wife was devastated that her friend was brutally murdered, I just got chills and a sudden rush of excitement when they were discussing the crime and how police found her. I apparently stabbed Becca 73 times, she had well over a hundred cuts all over her body….I am so brutal and vile. Maybe I should take my own life and end this suffering…..I will probably just be out again hunting…...