#tw leaving cert

[laurelwreathring]

did my irish exam today and i couldnt think of a movie to watch thats sort of in cinemas rn so i just said that me and my friends morbius

#racaigh muid ar pictiurlann agus feachfaidh muid morbius #if ur by any chance a leaving cert iridh exsminer and you get this #.........my apologies #leaving cert #leaving cert irish #irish exam #exams #finals #how to i warn the people of this monstrosity?? #what tags do u block if u dont want to see stuff abt exams #?? #its morbin time #morbius #tests #school #tw school #tw exams #tw leaving cert #idk

[mugmaniscrazy]

I passed my leaving cert and I'm still depressed . I have no one to celebrate with it's also my least favourite month September I hate it because my grandmother died 3 years ago towards the end of August and at the end of September of that same year I was coerced into doing it with a boy I barely even knew .

#no friends #no boyfriend #single #leaving cert #actually irish #actually autistic #actually hpd #major depressive disorder #seasonal depression #sad #trauma #trauma vent #actually traumatized #traumacore #ptsd #grief #tw death #loss #grandmother #sexaul coercion #sexaul harassment #sexaul assault

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere coworker (part 8)

Tw: noncon touching, noncon kissing, afab reader anatomy, violence, toxic family dynamics

Masterlists, part 1, part 9

Thanks for the asks about cyprus guys, it do be helping me to unclog that authors block for this stimky

Especially the ones who wanted to know more about him, got the idea from themm

"...She's sick and she has a cert' to prove it. I'll ask her to send an email after this call."

You were awoken by Cyprus's voice early morning. Softly grumbling under your breath, you pushed yourself up and rubbed your eyes. Realizing that you were lying on top of his bare chest the entire night. A calloused hand holds you in place by the ass, while the other held onto his phone that is being pressed against his ear.

"Me? I told you. I'm not coming in today. An emergency came up." The annoyance on his face evaporated away as soon as he saw that you were awake. You grunted in displeasure as he pressed an audible kiss on your very sleepy form.

You tried focusing on his banter with Jane. But everything was gibberish to you as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Cyprus gently pushed you back down onto his broad chest as he saw you swaying side to side, obviously not at all fit to go to work.

You pressed your cheek against him and closed your eyes, letting your consciousness slowly drift away again.

"You figure it out, you're the manager." He barked before hanging up on her. Cyprus stretched his arm to open the drawer of his nightstand, dropping his phone next to yours inside it.

The brunette turned his attention to you. He groped your buttocks, it made you stir a little, but it looked like you were too tuckered out to care.

"Hey."

You replied with a weak hum.

"I want to smoke."

You let out a grunt of annoyance. Struggling to push yourself off him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Cyprus pressed you closer to him.

You said that you're trying to get out of the way so he could do his thing.

He huffed. "You're supposed to stop me."

You said that he is an adult. You have no right to tell him what to do or stop whatever urges he may have. You told him that you wished he would extend the same courtesy to you.

"Oh yeah? Well, I have the urge to fuck you stupid right now." This woke you up immediately, making you push him away and creating as much distance as possible. You would have run away if it wasn't for him caging you against the bed.

You began whining and whimpering, about to break into a loud scream, until,

"Relax. I'm not doing that today." His voice took on a condescending tone. However, his fingers are still digging into your soft flesh, keeping you in place under him.

"Help me fight the urge to smoke." He ordered. "I won't let you go until you do something about it."

You frowned, forcing your brain to think early this morning.

You asked when and why he started smoking. His eyes darted to the side as he actively recalled the first time he did it.

"I started when I was twelve." He rolled to your side, but his arm still kept you in place. "My sister tried her best to keep me away from it, but I was a little shit. I stole a pack from her handbag and the rest was history."

You asked what kept him going. He shrugged.

"I looked... cool. And it calms me down, I had to work after school, to pull my own weight around the house. Juice boxes and candies weren't enough to soothe my nerves after a long night of dealing with fucking morons." Cyprus absentmindedly played with your hair as he reminisced about his youth.

You asked him what work he could have possibly done as a 12-year-old.

"You know, like. Shady ones. I would sell random shit on the streets, become a delivery boy for some local gangs, weirdos paid me to leave dead animals on doorsteps of specific people..." He trailed off.

You asked what he used the money on.

"Well, firstly, to keep the lights on. Secondly, on more cigarettes."

You asked how come the money from his mother and sister wasn't enough, that a young boy like him had to be robbed of his childhood to work. To that, he scowled, but not necessarily at you for asking such a question, but it was more like he wasn't fond of the memory.

"Looking expensive was apparently more important than her kids getting three meals a day." You waited for him to elaborate on that.

"We had a coffee machine when we couldn't even afford the right coffee. She had to outshine her so-called friends at church, wearing a new dress every week in her favorite color; gold. While we had to go insane and sleepless trying to put food on the table." He spat, feeling resentment for his mother for prioritizing her image.

"My sister was just like me, she had to juggle her studies while raising me and my mom." He mindlessly touched the back of his shoulder again. You wonder if his sister did something to him on that body part of his.

You asked if he still resents his mother for being materialistic.

He sighed. "...A little."

You asked him if she still is like this.

"Not anymore. It took me running away for a few days to sober her up. She was still shit at managing her money- my sister had to handle that on her own, but at least she knows she was a massive idiot back then."

You asked him how old he was when he ran away.

"Fifteen." A guilty look crossed his face. "My sister freaked the fuck out. It wasn't pretty when I finally decided to show my face again." You eyed the hand that touched the same spot as before.

You asked him if she hit him before.

"More times than I can count. She uses anything and everything, but it's mostly her cha- Slippers." He laughed.

You asked if she usually hit him on the spot that he kept rubbing whenever she was mentioned.

"Oh... no." He turned around to show you what he was touching. It's a long, large raised scar with mild discoloration, but it's clearly healed a while ago. You thought he had that while fighting. "She fucking stabbed me with a kitchen knife. Only once. But it hurt like a bitch, especially when she screamed that I was her biggest burden."

You offered him words of sympathy this time. He snorted.

"She didn't mean it. Because I heard her yell the same thing when she stabbed my mom in the hand. Plus, I was only 8, it wasn't my fault everything was the way it was."

You asked him if he gets to stab her as revenge. He chuckled at your question.

"Nope. My mom did, though. I stole her money and told her boyfriends that she has some sort of contagious disease instead." He pursed his lips and stroked his chin as he thought about the past deeply. "Yeah, I held a grudge against her for a while. I kept stealing her shit and laughed in her face whenever she breaks down. I have taken dodging and blocking seriously ever since I got stabbed."

You asked when you stopped being an asshole to his sister.

"About... fourteen. When I realized that my sister was more of a parent than my mom would ever be. It was awkward as hell, trying to make up for being this devil who's been sabotaging her for years."

You asked if he ran away out of guilt. He looked at you confused.

"Why would I..." He paused and thought about it for a while.

You continued, explaining that maybe he didn't want to be a burden to his sister anymore, so he thought running away was the solution?

"I ran away because I was sick of my mom leeching off me. She was the burden."

You asked if he thought about his sister when he took off.

"Yeah, I thought about how she's going to be fine without me. But I was mostly thinking about how I'm finally free from my mom siphoning my hard earned cash into her wallet."

You asked Cyprus what made him come back. He was chewing on his bottom lip throughout this conversation, possibly to try and suppress the urge to get up and smoke.

"My sister managed to find me one day and tore me a new one. She set my ass straight and put me back into school, kept an eye on me until I turned 18. Then, she told me that I'm free to fuck off and do whatever."

You asked him what he did.

"Finished university. I had some financial backing from my mom and my sister, but I still had to work like a dog to pay off my tuition fees. Thanks to them, I'm here today. Playing with my girl's cute and squishy ass."

You realized that he was fondling your rear during the entirety of this conversation. It made you slap his hand away.

He snickered when you angrily hit him on the chest.

"Oh come on, you liked it." Cyprus brought his face close to yours, to which you pushed him away with your palms.

You said that you did something about his urge to smoke. You asked if he would let you go now.

"Nope."

Exasperated, you let out a whine. Asking what more does he want.

Cyprus puckered his lips dramatically, even to a comical extent and made loud kissy noises. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, silently telling you that he isn't content just giving you kisses on the cheeks or forehead.

You told him that you're not interested in doing such things with him. But he cuts you off mid sentence by shoving his lips against yours.

You struggled, having Cyprus's unusually long tongue muffle your screams. But it only took a couple of seconds for you to calm down and grow limp in astonishment.

He is a... really, really good kisser. You grew more and more embarrassed each second you lingered, pathetically fighting back but clearly enjoying the dance of tongues. You liked the warmth, the erotic sounds he makes without the help of his vocal chords, the slickness and his rhythm. It's oddly satisfying and enjoyable.

He smelled of his body wash, a strong, earthy masculine odor mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke.

You couldn't tell what he tasted like except for the fact that he tasted nice.

You were too distracted by his skills to notice that his hands slipped under your oversized shirt that once belonged to your boyfriend. He's kneading your breasts and buttocks, perhaps adding to the pleasure train that you're experiencing.

However, despite not being a smoker, your lung capacity is much more inferior than Cyprus's. You panicked, repeatedly whacking him on the back as you tried to get him off you so you wouldn't pass out from oxygen deprivation.

He slowly pulled away from you, retreating his lewd hands along with him, admiring the string of saliva connecting your lips to his full ones. You're the only one panting in the room, Cyprus was calm and collected, yet you're there greedily gasping for air with your chest rapidly rising up and down.

"Thanks for the meal, princess. Next time, I'd like to know how it tastes down..." He brushed his fingertips against your clothed clit teasingly, making you jerk your hips away and squeeze your thighs together to process the sudden exciting stimulation. "...here. I bet it'll taste fucking delicious." Purred Cyprus with a pair of grey, bedroom eyes.

He laughed as you shied away from him. "You're funny" Cyprus cooed, tickling your sides until you audibly cackled.

He sat on the edge of the bed, yawning and stretching. He puts on his glasses as he rises from his seat, stretching his back muscles and arms even more.

"Oh and, thank you, doll." He looked back at you.

You asked what for.

"i don't feel like smoking anymore." He bent down to give you an appreciative kiss on the temple. "For now, at least." Cyprus continued.

"Come out in ten minutes." He said, walking out of the bedroom door and into the kitchen. You hear him start to gather the cooking vessels, utensils and ingredients needed for breakfast.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc Cyprus #male yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #tw afab reader #tw afab anatomy #tw non con touching #tw non con kissing #male yandere oc

[little-irish-rabbit]

I posted 15,703 times in 2022

That's 1,948 more posts than 2021!

147 posts created (1%)

15,556 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cisphobie

@azuresunshine

@tetrisdotcom

@lemememeringue

I tagged 664 of my posts in 2022

#rpdr 14 - 22 posts

#hololive - 11 posts

#breaking bad - 10 posts

#willow pill - 8 posts

#leaving cert - 7 posts

#unreality tw - 6 posts

#rpdr as7 - 6 posts

#drag race - 6 posts

#eurovision - 5 posts

#our flag means death - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#if they're no longer doing daylight savings then the school day should be moved so kids aren't walking to school/the bus stop in the dark

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

28 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

#4

Idc if it's seen as "pandering" because of past mistakes, (and to be clear, it's probably not. Kerri Colby was the only one who was openly transgender before filming) the fact that three trans women have gotten a platform on the world stage makes me very happy

See the full post

48 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

#3

I think they should just give the girls in untucked a gun and see what happens

74 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#2

75 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Pictures of Raja from my phone that are just great

See the full post

85 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[deithe]

i think vaccine researchers should look into irish schools, because according to the irish government, the minute people go into a school building, they immediately become unable to catch covid-19

#we have numbers worse than it was in march and getting the gov to shut down schools is like pulling fucking teeth #radio silence from our education minister #like. i know this is gonna fuck my leaving cause the mocks are gonna be pushed back and we might miss an entire month or school #but id rather have a shit leaving cert than kill my stepdad y'know? #covid 19 #tw covid #death #ask to tag #eire #ireland #irish politics

[that-cheer-up-anon]

Please help keep an Ella alive

I never wanted to make this post but things are looking quite bleak for me.

Backstory

TW: domestic violence, child abuse, animal abuse, suicide mention

For those who don't know my situation right now, Monday 22 March 2021 I was forced to leave home after my dad got incredibly angry and was threatening to hurt my siblings and dog. He had already started abusing the dog while me and my sister were away the previous Thursday, so we really didn't want to take any more chances. We packed up some bags and the dog, and then went to the police station to report our dad. The police couldn't do anything. We then went to one of my friends and stayed at their place.

The next morning, Ma found out that we had contacted the police and after my little sister confirmed that, she said that we had "ruined this family", and "don't you know that's enough for Pa to kill himself?! Would you be able to handle that?" She called us immature and downplayed our concerns for our safety by saying "he wouldn't kill you." AS IF THAT'S A GOOD ENOUGH REASON TO STAY. She was more concerned about my dad having a police report than the fact that he was the REASON WHY we had reported to the police.

After that she decided to stop paying for my little sister's car, which used to be our cousin's. She called our auntie (without explaining the situation) to tell our cousin to demand full payment for the rest of the car from my little sister. Luckily my cousin and sister got in contact and explained the situation so she didn't have to pay immediately like Ma wanted.

She also said that if we were to return home "don't expect it to be permanent." So now all three of us were homeless and financially cut off from our parents.

Things have changed, and my lil sis is stable, had a job and her own place w Goofy, my big bro is living w one of my siblings as he job hunts, and I am currently living w a friend until I can get a job and save enough to move out on my own.

I had to quit my Cert 3 nail technology course, which I loved, but couldn't keep doing without my parents paying. Luckily I'm eligible for a government paid beauty services course and am doing that now.

Here is where you can help me

I need a lot of financial help until I can get onto my own feet. I am currently living off my small savings. I was just rejected for government funding support and am still trying to get it. My laptop is broken, so I can't write a resume, job hunt, or do any digital art commissions for money.

I need money for public transportation, food, meds, a decent laptop that I can do digital art on and use for study and job searching, and to help me get more frequent therapy sessions than my current once a month.

You can help me by donating to my paypal:

https://www.paypal.me/cartoonvoid

TL;DR: I am homeless and financially cut off from my parents after my dad threatened violence against me and my siblings. We left and our mum immediately started emotionally and financially manipulating us. I need help w having money for public transportation, food, meds, a laptop, and therapy. If you have any spare money you can help me stay alive by donating it to my Paypal.

#Ella life #donations #If you read all that thank you so much. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write this post #but honestly having to write what happened hurt a lot #and begging for money even though I need it is very humiliating #as if the pandemic last year and all the trauma I uncovered wasn't enough #this year now I'm homeless and think I have ADHD so. that's great. #the last few months have been very painful and hard to live through and it still is #but the biggest positives out of this is that I don't live w my parents and aren't financially indebted to them any more #so much keep happening and I wish it would just slow down and stop

[fuck-customers]

Cursing tw

Hate hate hate customers. I open a lot at my sushi place, and we open around lunchtime. Our hours are on the door. Please do not come in BEFORE that time, and DON'T ask if you can wait inside if you do???? Bitch tf??? Get out of my goddamn lobby you are 7 fucking minutes early, leave.

Anti maskers???? Fuck you. Ppl who say they've been here before then order a drink that you should know we don't have??? Fuck you. Ppl who purposely make things difficult when you see we're having a difficult time??? Fuck you. And people who don't tip??? Fuck you especially.

We have to split tips with the kitchen and and between each servers. We make $2.13 and hour. We can't accept personal tips. The servers have to have food handling certs BUT WE DONT HANDLE FOOD????

Also fuck my managers, I'm your best non head server and you're going to give that to one of the others because I'm not a male??? Fuck all three of you. Fuck. I hate this place. I need a new job.

#submissions #fuck customers #cashier problems #fuck co-workers #server problems #fuck coworkers #fuck managers #submission

[all-things-skam]

Title: Sander’s secret | TW: mention of mental illness

Ship: Wtfock | Robbe Ijzermans + Sander Driesen (Sobbe)

_______________

‘’Does your face hurt?’’ Robbe asked, caring as always. ‘’She slapped you pretty hard.’’ He cupped Sander's face and tilted it, checking his cheek to see a light red mark.

Coming to Robbe's school to surprise him and kissing him on the sidewalk knowing there was a risk of seeing Britt there wasn't smart. Sander really played with fire there. But, they're teenagers - and he missed Robbe

As they were walking to Robbe's place, the latter couldn't stop re-playing the scene in his head.

It was an unlucky coincidence that Britt came out of the school right when Sander and Robbe were kissing. A part of Robbe could understand that seeing them lip-locking had been painful - especially when the breakup wasn't your call -, but the slap - and calling Sander an asshole - was out of line.

Sander was pretty angry toward Britt. He claimed that he had told her multiple times, but Britt didn't seem to know that they were over. If she had, she wouldn't have told Robbe to stay away from her boyfriend. And that haunted Robbe's mind.

What if she thought it was one of their usual break up and not a serious one? Sander had said that they were having ups and downs.

Their cute instagram picture had made the rounds at school - thanks to Amber -, making it almost impossible that Britt didn't know about them. Plus, she was a friend of Amber.

The situation was messy. Robbe wanted to believe Sander, but he had lied to Robbe in the past which had fogged his trust.

‘’I’m fine. It’s nothing,’’ Sander replied, moving his face away.

His movement had been a bit too abrupt for Robbe’s taste, making the younger one frown. Robbe was trying to be patient and understanding with Sander, knowing that he was still on edge and it wouldn’t need a lot to tick him off.

‘’Okay…’’

The brunet cast his eyes down and stepped back, going over to the cabinet to find something to eat. He scanned the content of the pantry, picking the bag of chips Senne had open last night.

Guessing Sander’s mood was difficult, let alone trying to understand it. His emotions were often blown out of proportion or not appropriate for the situation. There was no need to scream at Britt like that nor call her a psycho. Yes, it was frustrating on Sander's end that she couldn't accept their breakup, but this extent of anger was a bit extreme according to Robbe.

In order to not upset him any more, Robbe sat at the kitchen table and quietly pulled out his textbooks, taking advantage of his flatmates’s absence to study here.

Sander's phone began to ring. The blond sighed and pulled it out of his pocket, groaning as he read the caller ID and immediately declining the call.

Was it Britt? Unlikely. Sander had been pretty harsh with her at school, there was no way she'd call any time soon.

Whoever it was, their name made Sander more upset, causing him to throw his phone on the kitchen counter. Lucky for him, the screen didn't shatter.

''Leave me alone! Fuck!''

Robbe jumped on his chair, startled by his boyfriend's loud voice. He fought his instincts to stay quiet and not intervene, worried it would make things worse. Sometimes, it’s best to ride out the anger.

The artist slammed his hand on the countertop and began to pace back and forth, his pacing getting faster and faster over time. His eyes were down and his eyebrows pulled, as if he was trying to resolve his frustrations.

Robbe tried to focus on his science textbook and study, but Sander's heavy breathing and pacing prevented him from concentrating. He stayed quiet, glancing sideways at Sander to see if he was okay. It was one thing to let him blow some steam and ride out his anger, but it was another to let him bathe in his emotions or even harm himself.

Once he had calmed down, Sander leaned against the counter and breathed out. ''Sorry. I just- I can't believe her. She controls my life even after we've broken up. What the fuck?!'' He raised his hands and clenched his jaw, the emotions still there.

Tentatively, Robbe looked up. ''Britt?'' he asked, trying to put the pieces together with the little knowledge he had and be there for Sander without being overbearing.

''She fucking called my dad and-'' Sander abruptly stopped himself before he said too much, but it was too late. He already opened Robbe's door of curiosity.

''Your dad?'' the brunet repeated, frowning. ''Why would she call your dad?''

Suddenly, Robbe fell into utter confusion. The situation was getting more and more confusing and the teenager was having difficulty seeing through this all. The more he knew, the less it made sense.

Why would Britt call Sander's dad after he broke up with her? It's not like Mr. Driesen could force his son take her back. That was absurd. He also couldn't find a good reason why Britt - a teenage girl - would have her boyfriend's dad's phone number. Something was missing.

‘’She thinks that I’m spiralling.’’

‘’What? Why would she think that?’’

‘’Because she can’t accept that we’re over, so she’s trying to find an excuse other than me not loving her anymore.’’ Sander scoffed, shaking his head. ‘’She thinks I’m doing this just to spite her or that it’s a joke, but that’s not true. I love you, Robbe. You have to believe me,’’ the blond said, almost begging him.

Robbe stood up from his chair and walked over to Sander, putting his hands on his shoulders, thumb grazing at the tanned skin of his neck, reassuring him.

‘’Why would she call your dad, though? I don’t get it,’’ Robbe asked. He didn’t want to intrude Sander’s personal life more than he was willing to let Robbe in or force him to say something he wasn't ready for, but Robbe thought smart to leave doors open, just in case.

Sander looked away, shrugging. ‘’I don’t know.’’

The younger one sighed.

Everytime a conversation would get personal, Sander would change subject or try distracting Robbe by kissing him. It was a pattern that made Robbe suspicious. Something was going on, something that Sander was hiding from Robbe, there was no doubt. And, knowing this, a part of Robbe couldn’t help but feel hurt that there was a part of himself that his boyfriend wasn’t comfortable sharing with him.

Shaking his head, Robbe let his hands slide off Sander’s body. He stepped back, about to walk away, but Sander grabbed his hand, stopping him.

‘’Robbe, wait.’’ Sander leaned and went for a kiss, but Robbe dodged him, causing the blond to whine and pout. ‘’Hey…’’

‘’I know what you’re doing and I’m not gonna let you.’’

‘’I just want to kiss you-’’

‘’Sander. Stop playing coy with me. I know that you’re hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is nor why, but it’s not because I’m younger than you that I can’t understand you. Stop pushing me away, our relationship will never work if we keep things from each other and can’t communicate.’’

Sander exhaled shakily, glancing up back and forth between Robbe and the tiles of the kitchen. Every time their gazes would cross, Robbe could see the fear in his light green eyes.

‘’The thing about Britt is that she thinks she knows me better than I know myself. She thinks she knows how I feel better than me and that this allows her to control my life. She called my dad to warn him that I was spiralling, that I was having mood swings and that he should keep an eye on me.’’

''Only you have control of your life. Not Britt, not your dad. Just you.’’

‘’I wish you were right…’’ He gave Robbe a half smile. ‘’What I’m about to tell you is gonna change everything between us. It's gonna change the way you see me and I don’t want anything to change. I like us the way we are. I...I don’t want you to see me differently. I don’t want this to put a strain between us and ruin everything like it always does.’’

‘’Sander, stop being cryptic-’’

‘’I have borderline personality disorder.’’

There was a moment of silence, an absence of reaction from Robbe and Sander jumped to conclusion, assuming the worst. He looked down, head hung low, holding in his pain and sadness coming from the brunet’s rejection.

‘’I...I should get going.’’

Sander moved from his spot at the counter and bent to grab his bag and jacket where he left them on the floor when Robbe spoke up.

‘’Stay. Pease, stay.’’

The blond stopped his movements, taken aback. ‘’Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay with me. I won’t be mad if you leave me.’’

It pained him to hear that Sander thought he wanted him to leave. He knew about his Robbe’s mom being in a psych ward, about her struggles with her mental health, how could he think Robbe would want to cut ties with him?

Cert, the news had taken Robbe by surprise and was a lot to process, but it didn't change the way he felt toward Sander. He was still the same chaotic artist with a passion for Bowie he had fallen for.

Shaking his head, Robbe crossed the kitchen to stand between the table and Sander and gently cupped his face between his smaller palms. Feeling his lover’s touch, Sander casted his green eyes down and pressed his forehead to Robbe’s, vulnerable. ''I'm here, with you, because I want to be with you. Because I love you.’’

A relieved breath escaped Sander's lips. He peered his eyes open, finding Robbe's almost immediately and snaked his arms around his middle, fingers grasping at the blue fabric of his hoodie. Instinctively, Robbe mimicked his action, pulling his boyfriend in his embrace, giving Sander all the love and support he needed in this vulnerable moment.

#wtfock #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #sobbe #rosander #rosander fic #robbe x sander #sander x robbe #sobbe fic #thanks to @dontblinkof3

[archiefm]

         ... claws my way up from hell once more and vomits onto the dash.... hello. its nora. i used to write rory bergstrom, but if u were here before that u might remember me as greta or alma putnam or..... som1 else.... an endless carousel of trash children..... this is finn, who i actually wrote for an early version of this rp abt 5yrs back now...... grits teeth..... so forgive me if im rusty i havent written him in a long time but seein honey boy gave me a lotta finn muse n im keen to get Back On The Horse yeehaww...

DYLAN O’BRIEN / CIS-MALE — don’t look now, but is that finn o’callaghan i see? the 25 year old criminology and forensic studies student is in their graduate year of study year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be judicious, adroit, morose and cynical, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he will make a name for themselves living off-campus. ( nora. 24. gmt. she/her )

shakes my tin can a humble pinterest, ma’am....

finn has a bio pasted at the bottom (n written in like.... 2015.... gross) but it’s long  so if u don’t wanna read it here’s the sparknotes summary..... anyway this was written years ago n a lot of it seems really cliche and lame now but..... we accept the trash we think we deserve

grumpy, ugly sweater wearing, tech-savvy grandpa

very dry sense of humour and embraces nihilism. 

if ron swanson and april ludgate had a baby it would be finn

he was raised in derry, just south of dublin.

from a big family. elder sister called sinead. he also has a younger sister (aoife), a younger brother (colm), and a collie named lassie because his father lovs cliches (finn hates cliches but loves his dog). 

his father was a pub landlord and his mother worked at the market sellin fruit n veg when they met but got a job as a medical receptionist when she had kids cos it meant she cld be there with them in the day and work nights.

his parents met when they were p young and fiesty and rushed into marriage cos they were catholic n just wanted to have sex. his family were literally dirt-poor, but they had a lot of love i guess

hmmmmm his relationship w his father wasn’t the best cos i can’t write character who have healthy relationships w their parents throws up a peace sign. yh, had a pretty emotionally distant, alcoholic violent father n so gets a lot of his bad habits i.e. drinking as a coping mechanism and poor anger management from him BUT anyway

as a kid he was never very motivated in class, he always had a nervous itch to be off somewhere doing something else. struggled under government austerity bcso there just wasn’t the resources to support low income families where the kids had learning difficulties n needed support. fuck the tories am i right 

his mum suggested he try sports to help w his restless energy but he was never any good at football so he took up boxing and tap dance instead. he took to tap dancing like a fish to fuckin water. as adhd n found this as a really good way to use his excess energy in a creative way

had a few run ins with the police in his early teens for spray painting and graffiti, but he straightened himself out n now actually considering becoming a detective inspector??? cops are pigs.

he had a youtube channel where he posted videos of him tapdancing and breakdancing as a kid, basically would be a tiktok boy nowadays, n had like... a small fanbase in his early teens. attended several open auditions unsuccessfully, until he was finally cast in billy eliot when he was fifteen.

during billy eliot he began dating an italian dancer called nina. they became dance partners soon after and toured across the republic with various different shows (inc riverdance lol the classic irish stereotype). their relationship was p toxic tbh, they were both very hot tempered people and just used to argue and fight all the time.

he went semi-pro at tap dancing, and nina couldn’t stand being second best so she moved back to italy with her family. ignored his texts, phone calls, etc, eventually he was driven to the point where he used his savings to buy a plane ticket, showed up at her house and she was like wtf?? freaked out and filed a restraining order accusing him of stalking.

he was fined for harassment and then returned home to derry, but after the incident with nina he quit dancing for good and finished his leaving cert before heading to university in the US to get as far away from nina and his past life as poss. and basically since he quit dancing to study forensics (death kink. finn cant get enough of that morgue. just walks around sayin beat u) he’s become a massive grump and jsut doesn’t see the good in people any more.

u’ll find finn in an old man bar drinking whiskey bc he is in fact an old man at heart or sat on his roof smoking a joint, drawing wolves and lions and skeletons and shit, playing call of duty or getting blazed or at the corner of the room in a house party ignoring everyone and scrolling through twitter. is a massive e-boy. always up-to-date on memes and internet slang. has reddit as an app on his phone

not very good at communication. rather than solve his issues by talking, he’d prefer to just solve them through fighting or running away from his problems hence why he has come halfway across the world to get away from an issue which probs cld have been solved w a few apology emails.

takes a lot to phase him, but when his beserk button gets pressed he can become a bit pugnacious like an angry lil rottweiler. in his undergrad he was in a few fist fights but doesn’t really do tht any more as he doesn’t condone violence.

 in the previous version of this rp he was hospitalised like 5 times. pls, give my son a break. stop tryin to kill him. he literaly got a bottle smashed over his head and bled out all over his favourite angora rug that was the only light of his life

works at the campus coffee shop n always whines about how he’s a slave to capitalism. always smells of coffee

lives off campus with an elderly woman named Marianne, and basically gets reduced rent bcos he makes her dinner / keeps her company. they have a great bond

fan of karl marx. v big on socialism

insomniac with chronic nosebleeds

cynical about everything. too much of a fight club character 4 his own good n has his head up tyler durden’s sphincter

always confused or annoyed

statistics

basic information

full name: finnegan seamus o'callaghan nickname(s): finn age: 25 astrological sign: aries hometown: derry, ireland occupation: phd student / former street entertainer fatal flaw: cynicism positives: self-reliant, street smart, relaxed, intelligent, spontaneous, brave, independent, reliable, trustworthy, loyal. negatives: hostile, impulsive, stubborn, brooding, pugnacious, untrusting, cynical, enigmatic, reserved.

physical

colouring: medium hair colour: dark brown, almost black eye colour: brown height: 5’9” weight: 69kg build: tall, athletic voice: subtle irish accent, low, smooth. dominant hand: left scar(s): one on the left side of his ribs from a knife wound that he doesn’t remember getting cos he was drunk distinguishing marks: freckles, tattoo of a wolf howling at a moon allergies: pollen and the full spectrum of human emotion alcohol tolerance: high drunken behaviour: he becomes friendlier, far more conversational than when sober, flirtier, and generally more self-confident.

psychological

dreams/goals: self-fulfilment, travel the globe, experience life in its most alive and technicoloured version, make documentary films, help the vulnerable in society, grow as a human being.

skills: jack-of-all-trades, very fast runner, good at thieving things, talented tap dancer, good in crisis situations, dab-hand at mechanics, musically-intelligent, can throw a mean right hook and very capable of defending himself, can roll a cigarette, memorises quotes and passages of literature with ease, can light a match with his teeth.

likes: the smell of the earth after rain, poetry, cigarettes, shakespeare, whiskey, tattoos, travelling, ac/dc, deep conversations, leather jackets, open spaces, the smell of petrol, early noughties ‘emo phase’ anthems.

dislikes:  the government, parties, rules, donald trump, children, apple products, weddings, people in general, small talk, dependency, loneliness, pop music, public transport, justin timberlake, uncertainty.fears: fear itself, drowning alignment: true neutral mbti: istp – “while their mechanical tendencies can make them appear simple at a glance, istps are actually quite enigmatic. friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, istp personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. istps can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.” (via 16personalities.com)

full bio (lame as fuck written years ago..... pleathe...)

tw homophobia

born in quigley’s pub on the backstreets of sunny dublin, young finnegan o'callaghan was thrown kicking and screaming into the rowdy suburbs of irish drinking culture. the son of a landlord and a fishwife, he never had much in the way of earnings, but there was never a dull moment in his lively estate, where asbo’s thrived, but community spirit conquered. at school, finn was pegged as lazy and unmotivated, though truly his dyslexia made it hard for the boy to learn in the same environment of his peers and only made him more closed-off in class. struggling with anger management, finn moved from school to school, unable to fit the cookie-cutter mould that school enforced on him, though whilst academic studies were of little interest to the boy, he soon found his true passions lay in recreational activities. immersed into the joys of sport from as young as four, finn was an ardent munster fan and anticipated nothing more than the day he could finally fit into his brother’s old pair of rugby boots.

his calling finally came unexpectedly, not in the form of rugger, but through dance. to learn to express himself in a non-academic way, he began tap dancing, finding therapy in the beat of his soles against the cracked kitchen tiles (much to his mother’s disgrace). it wasn’t a conscious choice, finn just realised one day that dance was something that made him feel. a king of the streets, finn made his fortune on those cobbled pavements – dancing and drawing to earn his keep. by default, finn became a street artist, each penny he earned from his chalk drawings saved in a jam jar towards buying his first pair of tap shoes. though many of his less-than-amiable neighbours called him a nancy and a gaybo, finn refused to quit at his somewhat ‘unconventional’ hobby, for the young scrapper found energy, life, and released anger through the rhythm of tap. soon he branched out into street dance, hip hop, break dancing, lyrical, his days spent smacking his scuffed feet against the broken patio into the night.

when he was thirteen he took up boxing, and as expected, his newfound ‘macho’ pastime conflicted with his dancing. the boxers called him ‘soft’; the dancers called him ‘inelegant’. he felt like two different people; having to choose between interests was like being handed a knife and asked to which half of himself he wished to cut away. he couldn’t afford professional training in dance, with most schools based in england and limited scholarships available. instead, he made the street his studio, racking up a small fanbase on youtube. when he was fifteen he made his debut in billy eliot at the olympia theatre in dublin. enter nina de souza, talented, beautiful and italian; ballet dancer, operatic singer, genius whiz kid, and spoiled brat. she was selfish, conceited, hell bent on getting her own way, and every director’s nightmare. finn fell for her like a house of cards. he’d always had a soft spot for girls who meant trouble. and so their hellish courtship began.

by the time they were seventeen, the two young swans had danced in every playhouse across the republic. they were known in theatres across the country for their tempestuous personalities, their raging arguments with one another, their tendency to drop out of shows altogether without any notice, yet the money kept rolling in and the audiences continued to grow. for three years, their families continued to put up with their hysterical fights followed by passionate reconciliations. he was too possessive, and she was too wild. their carcrash of a relationship finally came to a catastrophic halt when nina broke off the whole affair and returned to italy with her family. for months finn tried to contact her, yet his phone calls, texts, facebook messages were always ignored, until finally he was driven to drastic measures and used his savings to get a plane to her home town. when finn turned up uninvited at nina’s house she freaked out – and rightly so – she contacted her agent, accused him of stalking her, and had a restraining order placed against him. finn was arrested, held in a station overnight, and charged with harassment before he was allowed to return to dublin.

after the incident with nina, finn lost the fight in his eyes. he became far more hostile, far less likely to retaliate with his own fists, and picked fights not for the thrill of feeling his own fists pummel another into a wall, but for the sensation of his own brittle bones cracking. he dropped his tap shoes in a dumpster, stopped talking to his friends, followed his father’s advice and went back to school to complete his leaving certificate. a few short months later, and finn was packing his bags, saying his bittersweet goodbyes, and travelling half-way across the globe to be as far away as possible from his past self, his mess of a life, and most of all nina. it seemed somehow ironic that the boy who had been cautioned by the garda so much during his youth for spray painting, busking without a liscence, and raucous parties would become the grumpy, aloof overseas student studying a degree in criminology; that his once reckless spirit could be crushed so easily. 

of all things that finn could be called, straightforward would never be one of them. ever since his first days in atticus, the boy was pegged as hostile, hot-headed, cynical, rude. he seemed to spend more time in his thoughts than engaging in conversation. like a ticking time-bomb, finn’s anger was of the calm kind, liable to explode without a moment’s noticed. his unpredictable personality make him something of an enigma to those who aren’t amiable with the lad, though hostile as he may appear, he harvests a good heart. loyalty lies at the centre of his affections, and whilst his friends are few in number, he makes a lifelong partner. somewhere within finn, there’s still some fight left, but mostly he has recognised that his hedonistic lifestyle did little to leave him fulfilled – mostly, it just emptied him out – and over his three years at university has resigned himself to a nihilistic predicament.

        if u wanna plot with me pls pls pls im me or like this post!! i am always game for plots i love em so excited to write with you all here r some ideas

study buddies. finn is now a phd student so has to start takin shit seriously. he gon be in the library every day doing that independent study. if he had ppl who were also regular library goers n they get each other coffees to save time.... tht wld be sweet

ppl who love techno dj sets and going super hard on the weekends!!! fuck yea

friends with benefits. exes on bad terms. ppl he tried to date but couldnt because he’s always emotionally hung up on someone else. spicy hook up plots

ppl he met touring?? maybe ppl who were also in the entertainment industry..... anyone got a character who is ex circus hit me up

does anyone else study criminology / forensics / criminal psych / law? phd students sometimes lecture so he cld be an assistant lecturer / tutor if ur character is in a younger year

gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!

finn goes to the skatepark and all the young boys there think he’s a gradnpa which he is! 

#huntingtonintro #is tht the tag....... idk..... msg me xo

[5am-moonlight]

You might be the only person who can do this request, if it doesn’t make sense feel free to ignore it but got any ideas for Lance with an Irish S/O?

Lance with an Irish S/O

Hey nonnie I fucking love you

TW: lil bit of racism towards Lance from your average Walmart shopper and swearing but that’s it

Bro he fucking loves that you’re also not an American born citizen. Obviously he loves his US friends, but having someone who could relate to the culture shock and the immigration experience was a huge relief, and for you as well.

Like him, you’d moved to the US to attend the Garrison, obsessed with space travel from an early age.

He loves your accent, but in an appreciating way. He knows the feeling of being told ‘you have an accent’ isn’t always something you appreciate, but he loves the way you’ll still say some Irish things, like how you can’t say ‘kiss’ it’s always a ‘shift’ or a ‘meet’ (which still confuses the hell out of Lance) or calling a party a sesh, and you still won’t call your money a dollar.

He likes that you both have freckles, even if yours mightn’t fully come out until the summer.

You’ll always help him out when a person is less than kind about his immigration, due to his accent. When you two had been shopping in a Walmart once, an older woman came up to him and had started yelling that he shouldn’t be here, and that he was ‘stealing jobs’ (he laughed at that, yes, the Cuban migrant working towards an interspace pilot degree was gonna be stealing a job. Good one Karen). She’d made the mistake of looking to you for support against all the ‘immigrants nowadays’ and you will always love the look Lance had given you when she’d asked if you were okay with “spics taking your job”.

You’d been silently fuming, and were really fucking happy to give her a piece of your mind.

“Actually, cabrón, I really don’t mind immigrants, considering I am one, but your little fucking mind wouldn’t comprehend that because my accent isn’t Cuban, or Mexican, or Middle Eastern, but guess what, as I am goddamn sure you’re able to tell now you gobshite, I’m not American either. Good day and póg mo thoin”

He has a huge interest in learning Gaeilge! Over the years you’ve picked up some Cuban Spanish, and you guys can fully converse in it, but he’s always had an interest in Irish because it’s such an unknown language. You’d gone through all your Irish exams and done the leaving cert at home, and were able to teach him some little things, how to fully introduce himself, how to talk about his family (which he was most excited to learn, since he really wanted to show his nieces and nephews his new trick)

He’s always had an interest in the different aspects of Celtic history, he was always proud of his own history, which traced back to Scotland by only two generations.

However, no much how much he loves you, he’ll always dislike the weather in Ireland. He loves the beach and the sun and the rain but it’s always just *so cold. And wet. He does like the brightness of the green in all the nature though, it’s always so young and alive. He loves Ireland, so much, but by god he could never live there.

He is slightly scared of your family. He thought Latino families are big and loud but holy shit. He now understands why his friends are scared of his big family at events, but he was always used to it, so when you introduced him to yours, he was a bit overwhelmed. He still loves the atmosphere though, big celebrations are really his thing.

No matter how many times you and your family do rounds of Irish songs (even Rattlin Bog which is in English) he will always get lost. He doesn’t get how you can sing it all perfectly while having drinks! He’s convinced it’s sorcery.

#i also realised halfway through editing this that my lizard brain just assumed u were white so sorry !! ill rewrite it for poc #if yall want #lance mc clain #voltron #voltron x reader #lance mcclain #voltron legendary defender #takashi shirogane x reader #fic #irish anon

[laurelwreathring]

that lc bio paper committed an act of war against my very soul

#im being targeted personally #tw leaving cert #leaving cert #leaving cert biology #biology #exams #tw exams

[innocenceunbroken]

{KATIE MCGRATH; DEMISEXUAL; CISFEMALE} —» Introducing DEVANA “DIANA”, the 29 year old descendant of CHERNOBOG from FANTASIA. Rumour is that SHE has ONE YOUNGER SIBLING. It’s been speculated that SHE is a HORSE TRAINER/RIDING INSTRUCTOR at GOLDEN OAK RANCH. Word is that SHE is PASSIONATE but SHE can also be IRREVERENT.

( drowning tw, burning tw, abuse tw, murder tw )

CHAPTER 1: CHILDHOOD

note: most of her backstory revolves around the slavic mythology which is where chernabog came from. still trying to read more so ill adjust this someday

the currently eldest child of chernabog, personification of evil, the black god, & marzanna or mara, goddess of death, cold, winter. 

has a full sibling named chort or cert, a demon of total evil (also known as a trickster for heroes & villains). but he’s made 2000+ years ago so it doesn’t count??

was once the youngest among 13 demon siblings— all born at the same time. they physically looked like 5 years old when they appeared, or at the very least, the 5 year old equivalent of a demon (bluish purple children with wings spanning twice their arm length and 1.5x their height & small demon horns)

the smallest & ‘weakest’ among her 13 siblings. preferred hiding over causing mischief & grief to the townsfolk near bald mountain. preferred playing by herself instead of what her siblings would do— show their father how evil they were by committing acts of crime. 

though her other 12 siblings caused chaos & evil, just as they were expected being children of chernabog, their father’s eyes barely rested on them. instead focusing on her. which caused them to continually try to bully her & gain their father’s favor

chernabog could see the potential she had to being evil, more so than her siblings. he could see the hate festering in her heart that she hid from everyone, the glares she gave after every abuse, the subtle ways she’d gain her revenge— often by making sure their ‘pranks’ didn’t work

what sealed her father’s belief that she’d be the darkest among the 13 siblings was what occurred a year after their creation— during the 4th sunday of lent, “the drowning of marzanna” aka the drowning of their mother. it’s a tradition held by the townsfolk, in which children would drown or burn an effigy of marzanna (also a goddess of winter) and never look back as they leave, to quicken the end of winter. 

while her older 12 siblings would save the effigys of their mother to lengthen winter & ruin the townsfolks days, she would do the opposite, helping ‘drown’ or ‘burn’ & making sure that the tradition is completed by forcing the children to continue on without looking back.

chernabog believed it to be a sign of great darkness. that she would willingly allow her mother to ‘die’ instead of saving her.

a day after the ‘drowning of marzanna’, their father gathered them all in one room & slowly took out each sibling. her memories of it were blurry but she could recall their pleas of mercy & the dark smoke coming out of their father’s fists as he made them disappear.

she didn’t know she would be spared, just that her father was willing to destroy them & was having fun the whole time— laughing at his siblings pleas

she had stuck to a corner, eyes closed the whole time & hands covering her ear. she knew that she wouldn’t survive being only a year old & had waited for it to end quickly

when she wasn’t grabbed after the last cry for mercy, she had looked around to see her father smiling widely at her, enjoying her crying in the corner. they watched each other for hours, devana waiting for him to kill her & chernabog enjoying her misery

while she didn’t want to ask or break the silence, the tension was hurting her more & when she tried to speak— she found out that she couldn’t. chernabog laughed & dismissed her.

devana isn’t her real name. she chose it for herself after finding out about the other gods. whatever her real name was is forgotten by chernabog who didn’t really bother to name her & herself, who never cared for what they called her before

CHAPTER 2: ADOLESCENT YEARS

the isle isn’t too different from bald mountain. her father was still feared. she’s alone. her father & herself ‘expect’ her to grow up evil like him (diana fearing the day it would come). & people feared her, less due to her demonic aura & appearance, & more on their subconsciousness warning them about her & the knowledge of her parent

her mutism from the tragic event of her past stayed, not that anyone knew of it, besides her siblings & chernabog. they just assumed that she was cold to everyone & deemed them unworthy of her

her full mutism had slowly turned to selective mutism throughout the years, her siblings & her need to protect them from their father helping her attempts to speak again.

she has a stutter when she speaks, & why wouldn’t she? the day her siblings died, she had feared that saying something would trigger their father & every time she was forced to be near him (in a land stuck with him) it enforces that fear. 

unlike the kids in the isle who starved & suffered under the isle’s conditions, diana never had trouble with food or items in the isle. her father’s minions often left the best of rotten food in their home & if she needed anything from the wharf, she was avoided enough to get her pick.

she avoided everyone & everyone avoided her, something she both disliked & liked. on one hand, she wouldn’t be attacked by those who lived in the isle, wouldn’t be bullied or harassed. on the other hand, nothing changed; she still was alone, with only animals who she befriended as company.

while others learned how to be evil in the isle, how to steal, how to be mean, etc. chernabog let her be, only watching over her from time to time to make certain that her potential is still there & growing.

there were moments in which she showcased her ‘evil’ side. for example— a day during those 20 year imprisonment in which one isle resident, who believed her to be weak due to the kindness she showcases to animals & her peaceful personality, tried to attack her which ended with her accessing the slightest bit of power & fighting back before subtly ruining his isle life.

sidenote: i like to think he leaves her be since one, he doesn’t really care about diana as a whole or at least as his child, mostly just as his entertainment. & him being the personification of evil would enjoy the idea of this good person being broken to the point of being a great evil. he wouldn’t break her himself since that would set her against him

her aura usually discourages animals to approach her, even actively dislike her. but her love for animals made her persist in befriending them. throughout her 20 years of being jailed she’s befriended & cared for a number of the abused animals in the isle

spent her days in the isle taking care of abused animals, enjoying the few things to enjoy about that place, exploring the forests, & growing her own food & medicinal herb garden

CHAPTER 3: CURRENT LIFE

currently a riding instructor and horse trainer in the golden oak ranch

enjoying her freedom from the isle & bald mountain. enjoying her being somewhere warm & good & colorful & bright— even if she can’t be exposed to the sun. its just the idea of being surrounded by green & good, all things her father hates, that makes her happy

horses weren’t really there in the isle so she’s enjoying befriending them, even if they fear her at first, & training/riding them

wants to showcase to the world, to her father, & to herself, that the potential her father sees in her would never happen. that she wouldn’t break to the point of being evil. that she could control her ‘evil’ deeds

#aurcdon:intro #*:･ﾟ ❂ ❝ ʙᴇᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ. ᴇᴀᴄʜ ꜱɪɴɪꜱᴛᴇʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ — dossier. #*:･ﾟ ❂ ❝ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ꜰʀᴇᴇᴅᴏᴍ — ooc. #abuse tw #murder tw #drowning tw #burning tw

[clubdelecturearoacenefaste]

A Foretold Affair

Présentation :

En anglais, non traduit.

Titre original : A Foretold Affair

Développeur : GBPatch

Type d’ouvrage : Jeu vidéo (Visual Novel)

Éditeur :  GBPatch

Genre : Romance, Fantasy

Résumé :

In this barren world of endless deserts, almost all live their lives upon large fractions of land floating above the surface.

Here there are two types of people: Normals and Abnormals.

Buffalo Seer is an eccentric Abnormal who wants nothing more than to use the magic ability within them; future seeing. However, even within their society where everyone has a special power, future seeing is considered dangerous and advised against.

Unable to be swayed, Seer finally gains permission to look into their own future, only to receive an unbelievable revelation. Not only have they left Abnormal society, they're married to someone they've never met before.

With visions of happiness in their mind, Seer leaves everything behind and ventures to the part of the land fraction where those without magic live; Normal society.

Seer is going to convince this stranger that they are meant to be together no matter what it takes, even if it means tagging along on an adventure.

In only a few days Seer will learn just how far away that pleasant future is.

Représentation : MC asexuel·le, pronoms du MC personnalisables, un personnage romançable homme asexuel (voie de January), un·e personnage romançable agenre (voie de Kea)

TW/CW : violence, sang (beaucoup), blessure, amputation, relation toxique (jalousie, possessivité), nourriture

L’avis du CLAAN :

Positif :

Le visual novel se déroule dans un univers steampunk.

Les OSTs sont très belles et non envahissantes.

Les réactions du personnages principales sont amusantes.

Le personnage de Trinette est très cool.

Les personnages sont de manière générale originaux et les échanges entre elleux sont intéressants.

Négatif :

Il y a quelques zones de flou, qui pourraient être éclaircies si l’univers dans lequel se déroule l’intrigue était plus développé.

Læ MC se conduit de manière creepy. C’est certes par ignorance, puisqu’iel ne connaît pas le monde dans lequel iel arrive, mais cela n’est pas toujours adressé par les autres personnages.

Certains passages sont un peu trop longs, notamment quand les personnages parlent de nourriture (et iels en parlent à plusieurs reprises et longuement, sans pour autant que l’on sache ce qu’iels mangent exactement).

La narration est déséquilibrée : il y a beaucoup d’échanges entre les personnages, mais quasiment pas de descriptions de leur équipement ni de leur environnement, alors qu’iels s’y déplacent et que ce serait pourtant pertinent pour mieux comprendre certaines de leurs actions. La présence de backgrounds dessinés ne suffit pas à compencer ce manque d’informations.

#A Foretold Affair #GBPatch #jeu vidéo #visual novel #romance #fantasy #asexualité #ace #représentation asexuelle #non-binarité #personnage agenre #anglais

[laurelwreathring]

IF ANGLO-IRISH RELATIONS AND CHARACTERISTICS OF STALINS RULE DONT COME UP I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE

#manifesting manifesting manifesting #im pissingand shidding and crying and throwing up #manifesting anglo-irish relations and characteristics of stalins rule #tw leaving cert #leaving cert #leaving cert history #like i could probably do britain interwar period #and i NEED to know the civil war #but i dont lol #im fucked for everything else #suicide ment #tw sui joke #tw suicide #suicide #exams #tw exams #civering my bases here hopefully #in tge tw not the leaving cert #unfortunately #help me

[laurelwreathring]

if gender does not come up as an essay in politics and society im going to burn my school down

#with myself in it #aaaaaagvghjj #is it bad that i had 10 days amd only prepared 1 essay? #yes..yes it is #FUCK #politics and society #politics exam #politics leaving cert #leaving cert #polnsoc #hste my self!! #tw exams #tw leaving cert #tw school

[all-things-skam]

Title: Staying strong together | TW: mention of violence 

Ship: Wtfock | Robbe Ijzerman + Sander Driesen (Sobbe)

_______________

The date was Sander's idea. He decided they should get drinks and come back on their bikes. And, most importantly, he initiated the kiss in the street.

They hadn't been fast enough when unlocking their bikes. Even if they had, with the amount of alcohol in their blood, they would've never been able to escape them.

Sander watched as Robbe slept in his bed, the angry bruise on his face getting darker and bigger with time. The ice Zoe had gotten him earlier had fully melted, now only a bag of water. He had put it on the table to prevent its content from spilling on the mattress during Robbe's sleep.

He had gotten hurt so much worse than Sander, being smaller, therefore weaker to those guys's eyes. Sander had done everything that he could to push them away, to try to prevent them from hurting Robbe any way that he could, but they were far too strong - and outnumbered.

Robbe's eyebrows twitched, a small wince escaping as he shifted in the bed. Sander, immediately alert, craned his neck, checking if Robbe was okay. He sighed, hearing soft snores.

A part of Sander couldn't help but feel like he was responsible for what had happened. He was the older one, he was supposed to take care of Robbe - in a way. He was supposed to protect him, yet he drove him into the wolves's den by drinking and kissing in the middle of the street on a Friday night.

Had he been thinking? Maybe this was what Britt meant when she said he never thinks before acting?

Sander's eyes filled with tears, physically sick to his stomach as flashbacks of Robbe getting kicked by those homophobes hit him. He could hear Robbe's pained moans every time he closed his eyes. It was haunting him.

He should've been more careful. He should've been more on his guard and watched his surroundings before letting his pulsions kiss Robbe. Sander put their lives in jeopardy tonight and he'll have to live with that. He'll have to live with knowing that he had been the stretched cause of the pain the boy he cared so dearly about was in.

Sander pulled his knees to his chest. Just sitting in Robbe's bed and watching him sleep was difficult. How will he live and continue with his life, their relationship, knowing that he was responsible for one of the most traumatic event in Robbe's life?

His eyes welled with tears, threatening to fall. Sander shook his head, trying to chase his thoughts from his head, and his heartbeat started to pick up. He felt the tears before he knew they were falling, a sliding sensation on his left cheek.

There was a light knock on the door, but Sander didn't hear it. A creaking followed and someone poking their head in to check on them.

The streetlamp was creating a dim cast of light in Robbe's room, Milan's thin grey curtains preventing the harsh light from blinding them. It was still dark, but Milan could make out Sander's figure, awake with his knees pulled up like a small child.

Milan pulled his eyebrows. ''Sander? You okay, kitten?''

When he heard about what happened, Milan's heart broke. He had been so worried when Zoe informed him that Robbe and his boyfriend had gotten jumped in the street. Although a part of him was still mad at Robbe for saying ignorant things and assuming others about the gay community, it wasn't a reason to turn his back on him. Robbe needed him right now. Cert, Zoe was a good untrained nurse. Milan didn't doubt she'd take care of them good, but Milan was better placed to talk to Robbe about the subject matter.

Without any second thoughts, Milan had ditched his date and came to the flat to check on them. He didn't care if his date was pissed. Family came first, family takes care of each other, and Robbe was family - and so was Sander, by default.

''My fault. It's my fault.''

''What?'' Then, it clicked. Milan caught on what Sander was implying and invited himself in, refusing to let the young boy drill dark - and untrue - thoughts in his head. ''No, no, no.''

He sat on the free end of the bed, facing Sander, careful to not crush Robbe's feet under the covers. He didn't need to be in more pain at the moment.

''Robbe. It's my fault he's hurting. It's-''

''Don't,'' Milan said sternly, abruptly interrupting the blond. ''What happened wasn't your fault, Sander. If we're going to blame it on anyone, it's them. You were just living your life and acting like young people in love. It's their fault that they are so closed minded and have a problem with two boys kissing in the street.''

Sander shook his head stubbornly not falling for what Milan was saying. He wasn't willing to accept that what had happened wasn't his fault. ''I initiated the kiss. I-I leaned in and- I should've controlled myself. I should've waited to be somewhere safe, I-''

''What are you gonna do now, uh? Forbid yourself from kissing the boy you like in the street by fear someone sees and doesn't like it?'' Milan asked, cocking an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. None came. Sander kept his eyes down. ''Violence toward the LGBTQ+ community is sadly still a huge issue in Belgium, but we can't live our lives with the constant fear that something might happen. We have to be aware of the danger, not hide ourselves so we don't trigger people.''

Milan was right. And, Sander knew it. But, a part of him would've preferred that he was in the wrong. Sander didn't want to admit it, but he was scared. Knowing that he isn't easily scared, this was big. He was scared of having to go through this a second time. It would be his worst nightmare. He wouldn't be able to handle hearing Robbe's pained moans as someone kicked him in the stomach.

A tear slipped again and Sander wiped it with the back of his hand. He wished he could get these images out of his head. Forgetting would be so much easier than seeing the terror on Robbe's bleeding face.

''I suggested to leave. I was annoyed by the lack of intimacy in the bar that prevented me from kissing and touching Robbe, so we left. Despite drinking a similar amount of alcohol, Robbe was far drunker than I was. He was all smiles and giggles on the sidewalk, hugging me and even jumping on my back like a baby koala.'' Sander smiled at the happy memory, the only one from the night.

Something most ignored about Robbe was that he was an extremely cuddly and clingy person. To most, he appeared as closed off and distant, but not with Sander. On the contrary, he always had to touch Sander. Even a kiss wasn't enough, Robbe had to have at least one hand on him, touching his face, shoulder - anything. Maybe it was a proximity need or just because it was Robbe's first relationship experience. Lucky for Robbe, Sander liked his clinginess. He found it adorable.

''I kissed him before grabbing our bikes, eager to get home- I mean, here, but this group of guys started yelling slurs at us. It was gross stuff. I chose to be the bigger person and ignore them. We tried to hurry, unlock our bikes fast, alas we weren't fast enough... They caught Robbe first and, when I tried to go and help him, another guy grabbed me by my hood from the back and-'' Sander's bottom lip trembled, incapable to finish.

Milan reached out and put a comforting hand on his knee, not knowing Sander's limits. Robbe had grown accustomed to Milan's touchiness, but it was Sander's first time meeting him. He didn't know what the boundaries between them were yet.

''I can't imagine how traumatic tonight must've been for you. It's normal to be scared right now and it's normal to feel a bit paranoid too. Dealing with the aftermath of an attack isn't a piece of cake, but you have each other. Allow yourself to have each other. I know you want to be strong in front of Robbe, but you don't have to carry all this weight on you. Don't let a distance form between you two because of this; let it pull you closer.'' Milan paused, seeing some movement from Robbe's side of the bed.

By reflex, Sander glanced at him, looking so small under the blanket. He'll admit, leaving had been tempting. If he left, he wouldn't hurt Robbe anymore, but Milan's perspective made him realize that leaving would cause more pain to Robbe. So, he wasn't going anywhere.

''I have been lucky and never got into a similar situation, but Robbe's kind of my little protege and seeing him in pain because some conceited assholes couldn't stand seeing a different kind of love than theirs hurts me. He never told me, but I know he's struggling to accept his sexuality and this attack just made it more difficult for him. So many have gone back into the closet after being attacked, I hope it doesn't happen to Robbe.''

Robbe made a whining noise and rubbed his nose, a sign that he was waking up. Seeing this, Milan took this as his queue to part, leaving the young lovers to themselves.

''Sander?'' he said in a soft, sleepy voice. Robbe gently reached out to him, knowing that Sander was behind him, and hissed, the bruises on his stomach and chest throbbing at the stretch.

''I'm here. Don't hurt yourself.'' Sander took his hand, gently placing a kiss on the back of his hand. ''Do you need anything?'' the guilt left inside him asked.

For the past hours, everyone at the flatshare has been at his bedside, constantly asking if he - or Sander - needed anything like a glass of water, painkillers or another pillow. It was heartwarming to see everyone being there for him and caring. Even Senne, whom Robbe barely interacted with.

Robbe shook his head. ''Just lay down with me. I need you close.''

Sander nodded, more than happy to do that. He slid down under the covers and pulled Robbe into his arms, carefully wrapping his arms around him, trying to not touch where he was hurt. ''Is this okay? I'm not hurting you, am I?''

''No.'' The brunet leaned back into his boyfriend, a blanket of safety enveloping him. A small smile settled on Robbe's lips when he felt Sander's platinum hair tickle his neck where he hid his face. ''This is perfect.''

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sobbe #sander driesen #robbe x sander #rosander #sobbe fic #rosander fic