happily-lost-in-oc-writing

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

“Nobody is going to find out about this,” the hero said, but at the same time, let themselves melt further into the villain’s arms. 

“What, you’re scared to admit to everyone that you’re the little spoon?”

“More like the entire city doesn’t need to know we’re doing this.”

“Still sounds like you don’t wanna say you’re the little spoon.” 

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Compilation of Shakespearean Insults

“Villain, I️ have done thy mother”

“Away you three inch fool”

“I’ll beat thee, but I️ would infect my hands”

“I️ am sick when I️ do look on thee”

“More of your conversation would infect my brain”

“Thine face is not worth sunburning”

“Thou art unfit for any place but hell”

“Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat”

“You are as a candle, the better burnt out”

“Your brain is as dry as the remainder biscuit after voyage”

“Drunkenness is his best virtue”

“Thou crusty batch of nature!”

“The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes”

“Out of my sight! Thou dost infect my eyes”

“Thou hast no more brain than I️ have in mine elbows”

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

odin is like “when thor was born the sun shone bright upon his beautiful face. i found loki on the sidewalk outside a taco bell”

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Sky High Au

Patton Hartly:

Hes like Layla from the movie, so he can grown and manipulate plant growth

And when hes upset, everything just straight up dies around him and thats something he really hasnt learned how to control yet

Virgil Blaine:

Both his parents had powers, and he inherited similar versions of them, but only his mom became a hero

He’s an empath and a shapeshifter (he can transform into multiple animals, but he usually sticks with cats)

He also has fangs because I say so

He doesnt have much control over his empathic abilities, and his own emotions greatly affects those around him

Roman Wicker:

Roman can melt things down with his hands, bUT he cant produce fire. But when hes angry or excited his hair bursts into flames.

Patton has made smores on more than one occasion during these episodes

He can also blow out hot steam from his mouth

Logan Canston:

Hes like Violet from the Incredibles where he can produce force fields and turn invisible

He is the only one placed in the Hero Support course, but he doesnt particularly mind

Theyre all in their Junior Year of highschool and if you wanna learn more abt them feel free to ask!!

Tag List:

@sunshineandteddybears @dangerous-doodle @officialwaterfairy

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

#100 Dialogue Prompts to Break a Reader’s Heart...

Keep reading

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Broken constellations masterpost

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[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Broken Constellations, Chapter 6- Rumor has it? You’re a bitch.

Cassiopeia

Ugh. Life is a shit show.

Between Jessica's constant changing sides, like an angry tidal wave, and Teddy's irritable spamming, my family's utter disregard for my well-being, and the- incident. From last nights party, my mind is a mess.

I rub my face and get dressed. I slide Jessica's hoodie as a shirt, and put a jacket over it. It's soft, and it smells like green apples and sunsets. Whatever sunsets smell like.

I slide on skinny jeans and boots, and I walk out the door, my hair a mess in the air behind me. I keep thinking of Jessica. My bully Jessica. Bittersweet Jessica.

I made a mistake going to that party last night, because the one thing I promised never to let show is bubbling back to the surface like a demon, and it's taking form as Jessica fucking Smith, and her stupid kiss.

I swallow hard. I need to get to school, and get these thoughts out of my head.

I wonder what would happen if I was normal. If I wasn't gay. I wonder what would happen if I liked teddy, I wouldn't be in this shit show with Jessie.

I shake my head- I can't let this take over. I won't let it consume me again. My throat is raw, and I swallow hard. Once or twice, and I get to school. I head to the cafeteria after buying a cherry cola, and I look around the room. Amber- one of Jessie's friends- waves at me. It hits me I've never really talked to them. I don't even know why I talk to Jessie. Was it pity? Was this entire thing pity? Or maybe it's a prank? Maybe she's still toying with me, maybe I'm still the butt of her joke. My pain is her punchline. Oh god, what if it's all just a joke-

Amber getting up snaps me out of my spiral.

"Hey, Cassiopeia.. you okay..? I know we don't talk- and I'm kind of a bitch- but, you kinda zoned out there..?"

I swallow. My body is screaming. I remember why I hate school.

But when teddy walks in the building, I'd take a bully over a traitor.

"Yeah. I think I'm just under the weather."

I follow her back to her table and sit down, I'm at a loss for what to say. What I can say, what I should say. After last night my mind is an ocean, swarming thoughts screaming "gay." And lusting after an asshole. Lusting after her. Jessica smith.

"That sucks. I'm sorry. Hey, Cassiopeia, I'm sorry for- everything. I've got no excuse, I've got no justification. But you seem like an amazing person, and I don't want my lack of judgement to ruin a possible friendship."

"Er- Yeah. Okay. It's fine. It's high school. People are all dicks and wolves, I guess. Eat or be eaten."

"-in more ways than one." Amber smiles, and I feel my cheeks burn in sudden realization as I laugh awkwardly-

"Oh my."

She smiles, and I muster a smile back. We talk aimlessly, probably just to pass the time, and Jessica walks in. Memories of last night threaten to invade my mind. Hopeful fantasies threaten to follow. I focus on my Soda.  Amber waves her over, and I muster the courage to awkwardly wave as well. She comes over in a huff, setting her purse down. Her cheeks rush red and she stares ahead for a second, her mind working up a memory she gets lost in for a second. Like she forgot where she was.

"What's up Jessie?" Amber snaps her back into reality, popping the top to a glass Starbucks drink.

"Not much," she huffs, "got yelled at by teddy."

Teddy. Ughhhhhhhhhh.

I love being Dysphoric. I tug at my hoodie sleeves, and start thinking how weird the butterfly affect is. It's ironic, thinking of the butterfly affect, because right now it seems all the fuckin butterflies resurrected in my stomach. I know the warning signs all too well.  I feel the way my fingertips graze the memory, with cautious shakes. I feel the memory of Jessica mixing with them- I feel the memory of them.

I feel sick. Suddenly, my throat can't get enough air, I feel people stare, I want to disappear. The memory is replaying, and I can't get it to stop.

. . .

"You seriously thought I was in love with you?"

I can only see her fingers tap on her arm as the words strike my chest. My lungs are burning and I have to cover my mouth with my hands to keep the gasps of air in.

"Jesus Christ, Cass. You're a fucking idiot! You're just- some dyke! You were a joke. Can't you understand that? I needed someone to laugh at. Something to play with. I needed someone to experiment-"

Please please please don't finish I can take this from anyone but I can't take this from you I can't take this from you I can't-

"-on." Her hair frames her face, she tilts it with her bubblegum pink lips turned upwards into a smirk. She's in a black lace-ended skirt and cat printed leggings, and a hoodie. Her raven hair falls down in waves, and her unforgiving brown eyes dig into my soul.

This can't be fucking happening. I- she can't- she wouldn't have.

"Everyone knows what you are, Cass."

My eyes sting as she watches me, analyzing, before walking out. My legs are jello. I can't breathe. The cold scrape of the bathroom tiles cut into my knees, and I grab my sides. I feel like I just ran the mile.

Please don't go. Please don't go. Please don't leave me like this. Please don't go.

Everyone knows. Dear god.

I've been outed at fucking 14. I sink back against the wall, I can't breathe, I'm sobbing hysterically, and my head is pounding. My world just fucking shattered.

It's 10:00 am, and my day is shit...

I don't know how long I've been in here, but it's long enough for the nurse to come.

She walks in and I scramble to my feet, oh god. My parents know. My school knows, and now I'm alone.

"Hey, you okay? Your teacher called me down here."

I nod. My throat croaks and cracks as I speak. "Yep- just fine-"

My voice cuts out at the end, strained. She gives me that look. You know, the "poor thing."

Like she knows what's coming. I barrel out of the bathroom, stumbling. I squeeze my eyes closed and wobble into art, swallowing hard. My teacher glances at me as I sit down. She probably thought I was getting High in the bathroom.

If only.

. . .

I swallow hard and wipe at my face, dampening my sleeves. I swallow hard.

Fuckkkkkk meeeeeeee.

Jessie's eyes are fixated on me. I give her a half-faces, awkward smile. She smiles slightly at me, and I feel something squeeze my hand under the table. I take my hand away. Fiddling with my fingers.

"You okay?" Amber turns her body to me, and I stare down at the table. And I nod.

"Yeah. Thinking."

"You think a lot." She says, leaning her chin against her palm.

"I guess."

"Why? What's there to think about so much?"

Oh, you have no idea.

"School, I guess."

Kissing your bully, you mean?

"Oh. Yeah. School sucks. We should start a riot-"

"Fuck the patriarchy, fuck democracy, anarchy time-!" I cheer, sarcastically. They laugh, and i focus on that.

I absolutely do not focus that I might have a gay crush on my ex-bully and I think current friend.

... could my day get worst?

The answer is yes.

Yes, it could. Like, the word "DYKE" could be drawn on a bathroom stall by my name with the words "GOTH MOTH CASSIE GRACE FORCES GIRLS."

Yes, it could. Like the stares I got in the halls, and the looks from staff.

And the way Jessica walked up to me, and the whispering in everyone's voices,

And the worst part was I almost liked the sound of Jess and I. But then there was the regret. The gut-wrenching, soul shaking regret of ever letting her in my life.

Because there is so much more than this.

There is so much more than her.

And here I am,

Worrying over a silly little girl who will never like girls.

With the split-second thought that  I wish you liked girls.

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Broken constellations masterpost

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[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Broken constellations, chapter 5- lipstick stained revenge.

Jessica's POV

I can't exactly describe what was more satisfying- watching Teddy walk in looking like hell, Or the smile Cassie got when she saw him.

It's been a week since Cassiopeia Grace was in my home, hanging out with me, and turning to me for comfort. It's been a week since I was deadset on making Theodore suffer, and oh. What a week it has been.

...

The morning after Cassie came over bawling because of teddy and his lack of care for consent, I had started laying out my revenge plan. I felt like Margo or whoever she was from John Greens paper town, and I almost had the urge to go out and buy a shit ton of catfish and just wreck his shit, but- I decided to be "original." I was going to do what I do best.

Be the ho. I walk up to Teddy, he's at his locker with a scowl. His features are dark, they've got an angry undertone, his jeans bag near his vans and he's got a flash shirt on. His face is uncharacteristically hardened, he's more- ugh. I pop my mouth as I put my lipstick on, using his locker as a mirror.

"Hey, Theodore." I smile, bumping his locker.

"Uh- er. Jessica? What's up?" He smiles, hiding the true colors.

I brandish my cherry-red lips.

"I was just thinking," I Trace my fingers over his chest, leaning closer, "we never hang out. I was wondering if you wanted to be my date to a party tonight?"

He blinks, processes, and raises a brow.

"What? You don't want to?" I ask, looking up at him.

I see the gears working, the way he imagines Cassie's face in spite, the way he feels cheated she said no. The excitement at revenge. And he smiles.

"Sure!"

Great.

I walk away, air swishes and I gag inaudibly- absolutely fucking disgusting.

As I walk, Erika pulls me aside. I glare, ball my fists, and remember that I can be a bitch better.

"What's up, bitch?" I scowl, looking around before resting on her. God, she is such a wolf in sheeps clothing.

"Are you a lesbian?"

Fuck.

"Pardon me? You're going to fuck- quite literally- my life up and then accuse me of being some- fag?!?"

The words foam in my mouth. They splinter and break, and I feel the venom coating my tongue, and a twinge of pain, as if I'm committing some kind of treason to myself when I say the word fag.

"I'm just asking, don't get so defensive. Someone saw you and grace and started to start shit. Just thought you'd like to know. Why were you two even hanging out? You hate her? You bully her."

I felt a wave of rage. Yes. I messed with Cassiopeia Grace. But I don't- bully- her. I don't do that. I do- but.

Why does it piss me off to hear that, now?

"Okay, I messed with her. Sure, tormented. But I never- 'bullied' her. You're being an over dramatic bitch,"

I've said bully. I'm her bully. I know I am, so why am I so fucking upset.

"Jesus. Someone got you on your self-righteous high horse today. Hangover?" Erika asks, bittersweet as if she can still talk to me like that.

I roll my eyes, trying to cut off conversation by clicking my heels away from her.

"If you're toying with goth moth now, tell her not to be an entitled bitch to me? The slut can't talk, but she snapped at me the other day. And about you and the situation, no less. You two sure you aren't lovers~?"

...

Maybe In another life, Erika.

...

"We aren't. Do us all a favor and go back to your regularly scheduled fucking yourself. You're a bitch. And I might be one too? But I have never fucked you over so bad and hurt you so carelessly, just to smile to your fucking face. You're no hero for talking shit about me, Erika. You come here all pious and shit, but tell me this. Why is everyone so comfortable talking shit about me-" I jab a finger in her face, "to you."

Her face flushes, and she pushes my hand. I feel sick. I'm angry.

I push off and storm, trying to find my clarity.

I know where it is. But I won't fucking go to it.

I won't prove them right.

-t i m e s k i p-

That night, teddy picks me up in his car. I'm in a tight black dress that "compliments" my figure. It hugs my waist, and I stretch it a little uncomfortably. I flirt with him as he drives, gagging internally.

Oh, poor little Theodore.

Everyone knows in the high school game, you have three ways of losing:

1. Falling in love.

2. Being played.

And finally,

3. Rumors.

Theodore will feel them all.

We get to the party and I step out, leaning on the hood, pouting at him.

"Tedddyyyyyyy. Come on!!!! I wanna get a drink, we can even play a game~" I hum, smiling. He smiles back and let's me lead.

That's it, lapdog. Let me lead.

I grab two red solo cups and hand one to him, giggling and tilting my head. I take in his features. I wonder if Cassie's ever been to a party. I wonder what she'd do.

I wonder how it felt, to have that overwhelming urge to hold her- to kiss her- overtake you. Seize you. To go for it.

I throw back the contents of the cup.

Drink the gay away.

I set my cup down, the bitterness lingers in my throat as I feel sick, I wrap my arms around his neck and smile. He smiles back, albeit a bit nervous.

"So why'd you come, teddy~?" I purr, biting my lip.

"You- asked."

"And what about poor Cassiopeia Grace. Your- BFF. Wouldn't she be upset?"

He gets a glimmer in his eyes. It's fucking sadistic.

"Yeah. I guess. We're in an argument right now. She's overreacting."

If you grabbed my waist by force, I'd be upset too.

I smile and move his hands down on my waist, and I lean into him. He wobbles a bit, drunk. I whisper.

"I know what you did to Cassie. You're going to fucking regret it."

And then I scream.

"YOU WANT TO DO WHAT?"

I stumble back, knocking my cup back. The music doesn't stop but the busy crowds do. All eyes up front. I'm red in the face and Teddy's Face is a plaster of confusion.

"GOD YOURE SUCH A FUCKING PERVERT. HE GRABBED ME! DID ANYONE SEE THAT,?? I scream, and I know that everyone is already running gears in their heads. Everyone already is texting. I've set the seeds he will sow.

I am comforted by a crowd of girls, pushing him away. And I see the strangest sight: Cassie, walking in. She's in knee high socks and a black skater skirt. She's got a baggy Superman shirt tucked in, and a baggy varsity jacket. She looks around, awkwardly hugging the walls. God. She's a wallflower. I decide if I'm satisfied with what I've started with teddy, and smile. I walk over, nonchalant, and to avoid engaging rumors I go to the bottle circle. Cassie sees me and anxiously follows suit, sitting down. Everyone glances at her.

"Have you even had your first kiss, cassie?" A girl asks, looking. She was one of the few in our school who were endeared to cassie before I realized who she was. She has the aesthetic tumblr bangs, the perfect wardrobe for a moodboard aesthetic. Cassie rolls her eyes, glancing around nervously.

"Duh. I'm not a total loser." She smiles sheepishly, and someone asks "was he good?"

She ignores it, smiling and sitting down by aesthetic- who's name is Stephanie.

They place a glass coke bottle in the circle, and I spin first. I scan the group for guys to kiss, and shrug. What happens, happens. I spin the bottle and an eerie and shy silence falls on us. It landed on Gram, and I realize I guess I was hoping it would stop on her so we would have to kiss. And I've been staring blankly at the bottle.

"Right. Let's go."

We do the usual kiss and go, and the group spins. Cassie is spinning, and she's calculating softly in her head. She twirls the bottle with a certain grace, and it comes to a slow. She was aiming most likely for Stephanie or the guy next to me, but the cap aimed at me.

"I- I can re-spin. Since it's- a girl.." she trails off, and I don't know why she looks so scared. I shrug and smile, winking at the guys.

She sits on her knees and I crawl over, making sure to tease. I stop in front of her and we hold our breath for a second. She gently brings her hands to my cheeks, and she smells like vanilla. I lean in and kiss her, I move my hands gently to her waist, And she tastes like sweet coffee and hints of cherry coke. Her lips are soft. Rex's lips were never soft.

She moves softly, she's kissing like a longing peck, like she's done this but is scared of doing it wrong. I don't have much confidence with kissing either, but with her it feels right. When she parts, a few seconds that felt much much longer, I find myself stuck. The presence of her lips like a ghost is a welcome visitor, I can still taste the hints of cherry cola, and I'm euphoric. I sit back, wiping my mouth as if to show "it ain't shit."

But I think that meant so much more than I wanted it to. I sit as everyone else plays, boys flirt with us. Fetishizing it, as per usual. It makes me think of poetry- I don't read it. Definitely not often. But one time I saw her pull out a book and it made me curious. I read it, And it said "as surely as the moon falls for the sun, I will fall for you." And I think it was when the taste of her lips plagued my mind and her presence made me feel warm inside and the way she brought an entire galaxy with her and took it when she left like a black hole in my life, I realized I was-Hella. Fucked...

•T•I•M•E•S•K•I•P•

The next day came soon, and teddy storms over in the way a man does when his fragile masculinity and reputation is at stake.

"What the HELL did you do?!?  Do you know what I got fucking called last night, you psycho bitch?!?" I smile, and re-apply my lipstick as I walk to the cafeteria. "Oh- are you mad someone started shit without your consent, and now you're- hmmmm.."

I smile, as if realizing. "Overreacting?"

He glares and gets this horrified look of realization.

"Fuck you, Jessica! You're just pissed because you're a fucking faggot for her! You and her, gay fuckin lovers! Right??!!"

I freeze, and grit my teeth. Everyone loves to talk.

"That's why you kissed her last night right?!? You realize she hates you?! You made her want to fucking die! She used to make fun of you- she called you Elsa. Because you're the ice queen. I might be a pervert in her eyes, but at least I'm not Satan!"

I roll my eyes, and a nausea takes over my stomach. Like all the butterflies died.

"Whatever, pervert. Let's see who she comes to at the end of the day."

I walk away, heels clicking, and my face flushes. Amber is waiting at the table, talking to Cassie. Huh. She smiles first, waving me over, and cassie awkwardly waves, messing with her sleeves. I remember we haven't exactly talked at school before. I sit down, setting my purse gently. For a flash, I forget where I am and I feel Cassie's lips again. I feel her fingers tracing my cheeks, I feel the air freezing-

And then I remember I'm in the cafeteria in hell.

"What's up Jessie?" Amber asks, stretching and shoving her face with a nature valley.

"Not much. Got yelled at by teddy."

Cassie winces at the name, rubbing her eyes. I see the storms clouding her mind and all I want to do is tell her he's fucked and well be okay-

She'll. Be okay.

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

New chapter of broken constellations coming tonight.

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Titus Bloodborne.

TW: EMOTIONAL AND PARENTAL ABUSE.

Characters: Miguel and Titus Bloodborne.

~~~

Titus walked into the large throne-room type hall, guards pushing his back as newly brandished gashes lined his face from getting hit with the butt of the guns. He saw his father- Miguel- sitting with his legs swung haphazardly over the side of the chair, his chin resting lightly on the palm of his hand. His dark crimson hair shone like blood under the light of the room, his tight black shirt complimented the tan skin and the blood flecked across his face. In the hand resting on the arm rest laid a gun. Of course, this didn’t scare Titus. What did scare him was the “parental smile” Miguel branded. It was like he was showing Titus his fangs.

“Hello, my baby boy.” He smiles, and Titus is pushed down by one last guard, he grabs the carpet as he falls to his knees- the flashes of memories come fast, like the time his father chained him on a planet with a knife and a sharp stick to defend himself from hungry beasts- Yes, he did survive, but the scars across his face and his body tell his story.- the way his father insulted his looks, the way he treated him as competition- the way he killed his big sister when he was 5 just to show him that they meant nothing to him.- and then they fade when Miguel tsks.

“There’s my baby boy. You made me quite worried, Titus. A whole week and not so much as a transmission? You had daddy worried.” He takes a frown and twirls the gun, pouting.

Titus knows there’s no good response. In the end he always gets shot and thrown to the cells.

“I’m sorry, father.”

“I know you will be.... god, you always have this- selfishness! It’s why Tia is dead, you know? Your chubby, greedy, selfish 5 year old hands got her killed, and over cookies.”

Titus wants to scream ‘you’re the one who killed her. You. You. You. You. You.’ But he knows any sort of emotion or reaction will provoke further punishment.

He nods, instead, and counts the white hashes engraved in his wrist to remind him how old he is, and how long he survived away from Miguel.

“Look at you. So prideful, so spiteful. Like the whole universe rests in your chubby little hands.” Miguel gets up, at this point, walking down the steps to the place where Titus sits on his knees, eyes cast down. He feels the cold tip of the gun pushing his face upwards from his Chin, and he sees the remorseless red orbs that he holds so highly in contempt.

“Baby boy, remember who started the crimson knives, and remember who so kindly made you heir~ little bastard boy, no where to go. No mommy. No sister. And you know why they’re gone~?” He coos, petting his sons hair. The dark crimson streaks within the lilac fluff makes Titus sick, it reminds him of his father. He looks away, feeling distraught over the mention of his late family. It was his fault. He was disobedient, after all.

“I didn’t obey.” Titus says, repeating the lines that have been engraved into his mind since he was 5. “I was selfish.”

Miguel, smiles. Seemingly satisfied with this answer.

“That’s right~. But it’s okay. I forgive you for what you did.” Miguel ruffles his hair, standing up from his kneeling position. “And you know I love you. I love you so much, baby boy. Which is why I care enough to punish you when you’re bad. To help you learn. You don’t want anyone else dying, do you?”

Of course, he wasn’t talking about anyone Titus cared for- he had killed them off long ago. His father was a tyrant, and to teach Titus exactly how selfish and bratty he was, his father committed public executions of the crew members, to make Titus infamous on their ship, of course. The crimson knives: the galaxies shittiest people. Thieves, traders, traffickers, weapon suppliers, mercenaries. Cold hearted killers, parading around in a metal model of a Nordic Viking ship- crimson red and floating through space.

Titus responded- or, he must’ve. The forced “I know.” And “I love you too, father.” That he had so mindlessly uttered a million times before.

Miguel raises the gun and smiles, cooing sweet nothings as he shoots his son in the chest, and Titus cries out in pain, gasping for air and holding the newly opened wound, trying not to cry. He wouldn’t give Miguel that satisfaction.

He knows Miguel isn’t done, either. His father paces his way to him and digs the heel of his boot into Titus’ wound, and he smiles sadistically watching his son scream for mercy under his boot. He relieves the pressure and presses his boot down on his sons face, smearing blood over his cheek.

“Never. Run from me. Again.” He spits, and walks back to his throne, crafted from the blood of those he loved. Crafted from the lives he took and the ones he ruined.

Titus picks himself up, refusing to let the pain seize him, put him into shock.

He limps himself out of the throne room, the crew members eyes all on him as he makes his way down the depressing and dimly lit halls.

He just has to make it to his room, then he can fall apart.

He collapses on his bed when he gets to the room,

The walls are grey and barren- lacking any photos or decoration. The walking dead Negan-type baseball bat lined with barbed wire, nails, and pain of the past lays on his wall with “a note from daddy. “ another gift, one that one wouldn’t normally assume to fit a fucking 16 year old.

His dresser was a fading white, and his bed was monochromatic, it was a little sad to say the brightest thing in the room was him. He looks in the mirror at the sunken-eyed stranger looking back at him. His dark lilac hair curls at the edges and goes over his one grey eye, the other being blue and resembling someone normal. The crimson streaks make him gag, reminding him of Miguel. The grey tight sweater he is wearing turns a dark brown/ thick red as the bullet wound bleeds, and he takes it off, displaying the striped scars where he was clawed apart. He does the usual routine of bandaging before laying down. The scar on his lip and the side of his face a constant downer, so he closes his eyes. He sees the face of Tia, his older sister. She was 12 when he shot her between the eyes because she snuck Titus cookies for his 5th birthday. It was the first and only one he celebrated. His mother was dead when he was 2, but he can’t even remember her face. The flicker of a memory of a voice is all he has to soothe his pain. Lost in thought, Titus dozed off, tired and pained.

Done with the universe.

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

*while getting prepared for a fancy date night*

Roman, dressed in a gown and definitely wearing heels: alright Patton! I’m ready to go!

Patton, exiting the bedroom: yeah me too

Roman, after noticing his shoes: oh lord

Roman: Patton?

Patton: yes?

Roman: you’re not going to wear those out, right?

Patton: what’s wrong with them?

Roman: you can’t just wear… platform crocs… and expect it to be okay

Patton: what? why not?

Roman: because I’m not yet drunk enough to a accept those as “formal”

Patton: you don’t have to be drunk, you just have to be *dramatic pause* fashion forward *sashays out of room*

Roman, mouth agape and eyes wide: did my boyfriend just tell me that I’m not fashion forward… while wearing CROCS?

Virgil, from the couch: that’s exactly what happened and I have to say I’m siding with Patton

Roman: *offended princey noises*

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Reposting cause the gif wasn’t working 😂

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

I’m so sorry I haven’t been producing quality content anymore.

I’m so sorry I am not producing anything good any more. No writings, poems, or drawings I’ve done recently are really worth much. They’re not good.

I have been struggling with my mental health for a while, and at first I thought this would pass. I kept telling myself that, through relapse and falling back into old, triggering behavior, bringing things back I thought didn’t Conjur up old memories.

However I have fallen into a place where I know I’m not okay. I am remembering old things that shouldn’t have affect, I physically feel memories of bullies and such, I’m anxious about everything these days, and if it weren’t for a special someone I wouldn’t be okay at all.

However this is no excuse for my lack of content quality.

I will try my hardest to do something good from now on.

I’m so sorry for the shitty quality.

~Kit.

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

“You’re not alone”

Ian knew it was wrong when Dallas told him he had to do this for his mom, a woman who didn’t give two shits about him. His mother, who put a fucking revenge quest on a three year old after letting him be abused by multiple parties.

“I’ll be fine” dallas promises, putting on his assassin Kylo-ren bullshit costume. His white shaved sides and curly purple hair fluffed as he slides on his black captains coat. He holds the yellow locket of his mother’s picture in his hand before looking in the mirror and putting it on, and I walk in front of the door.

“You can’t do this. You’re not alone, Dal, we can find another way! Your mom should’ve never put that on a fucking kid.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Ian. This is my choice. And I’m going.” He pushes past me. His heavy platforms clunk against the floor, elevating his usual 5”0 height to at least 5”3-5”4.

God dammit he’s gonna make me say it.... Please don’t leave, Dallas.

“I know you aren’t! But you’re my fucking friend- but like- more- and-

And if you leave you might not come back! Over what?!? A woman who never gave a shit??”

He stops, taking a breath in, and glares as he grabs his sledge hammer.

“Better than living knowing you don’t. You make that clear to everyone. That you don’t give a shit.” He said.

Like that, he was gone.

I anxiously lean back and fourth, now awkwardly fit in my 6”3 frame, feeling small.

You’re such an idiot, Dallas.

Grabbing a baseball bat and charging out the door, I follow him, knowing he took his shit with him.

He ends up at a house, a two story house, where Dallas has flung open the door, and is screaming at the guys, explaining his story. The man who he has described in vivid detail as the bastard who fucked their family over, launched then into his gambling debt, and then leaving before the government took his house, and eventually his mothers life.

The same man stays over him with a case, shattering it over his head, four or five men are beating him, and he’s begging for mercy- he’s trying to explain he doesn’t want to fight, that he’s sorry- that he just wanted to see the man who did it- how he realized it wasn’t his fight, but there are no mercy in that mans eyes.

I rush in, it’s a blur, all I know is the only clear thing is dallas, pale and labored breaths, sobbing and curling up.

He didn’t even have a chance.....

I swing the baseball bat hard into the guys legs, giving a hard blow to anyone who came near me or him, and when i reach him i grab him, hurrying to carry him out, running numbly until we get far enough away for me to fall, cradling him in my arms.

“Dallas- Dallas I’m here you’re okay I am right here you’re not alone you’re never alone please open your eyes-“ I gasp for air, petting his hair, “you’re not alone I’m right here I’ve always been right here- please- we- we can move in together and we can be- friends- but- more than friends! And- and I can piss you off with my bad jokes and my moronic behavior and you can make me angry with all the childhood abuse jokes and make me happy by talking about our future and- dear god don’t leave me please please please don’t leave me not like this it wasn’t your fight you weren’t fighting back you never had a chance you never even had a chance-“

His eyes flutter softly, closed, and he’s curled up, crying, but the crying has stopped and he’s slowed down, his body relaxes and I slap his cheeks,

“NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. NOT LIKE THIS. PLEASE, DALLAS YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!!! YOU CANT LEAVE ME PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME- PLEASE PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME ALONE I DONT WANNA BE ALONE I LOVE YOU PLEASE STAY ALIVE-“

I pick him up- Help. I need to get him help.

“ANYONE?!?! PLEASE! PLEASE HELP HIM. PLEASE GOD HELP HIM!” I scream, the words ripping my throat to shreds and burning my eyes.

When people come, I can’t let go, I can’t get away from him, and I stumble face-first over a curb, hugging him tightly and sobbing.

“Not like this.... please dallas don’t do this please I never even told you- dallas god dammit tonight was supposed to be the night- why’d you listen to me-?!? Why’d you martyr yourself- god this is all my fault I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry- please please please don’t leave me alone- I don’t wanna be alone again-“

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

I do writing on this blog as well as sketches, all the stories here are LGBT short stories, and I do poetry on @happily-lost-in-words

hey if you’re a painter / writer / photographer / poet / artist of any kind you should reblog this because i want to follow you!! i want to start treating tumblr as a source of inspiration & art community because there are so many creative people on this site whose work i want to see! 

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Broken Constellations- chapter 4: Hell Hath No Fury like an Angry Bitch.

Jessica's POV

After a well deserved nap and some time alone, I get a call from Cassie- which is, strange, considering:

1. I'm her bully.

2. She should hate me.

I sigh, and decide to get the balls to answer the phone, where the first thing I hear is heart-wrenching sobbing.

Somebody's gonna die.

"Cassiopeia? What's up...?" I trail my sentences, stepping on eggshells with our new found "friendship"

"Fuck- it's teddy- can you- can I come over-?" She shakily breathes into the phone, her voice breaking and hoarse.

"Uh...? Yeah- no- yeah of course." I say, confused. After we hang up, I go to my door to wait for Cassie, who's walking over with her head down, her eyes are puffy and her face is flushed, her nose is pink and she's sniffling, her hands are shaking, and she's in a  baggy hoodie. I frown and pull her in, sitting down at the counter and looking at her as she tensely stands in the kitchen.

"Uh- what's.. up?" I bite my lip, looking as she wipes her face a few times.

"I- just- I-

Teddy- he- fuck- he wouldn't stop and I said no- and he kissed me once and I told him no, and he showed up angry and I just- I don't like it- I hate it here- I want my old life back-" she gasps for air and sobs, I awkwardly get up and hug her, rubbing her back. Teddy always seemed so nice-

But he stepped over a fucking line, and hell hath no fury like an angry bitch.

I rub her back, and we end up taking for a while. I tell her about all the random drama and shit between everyone, and she tells me about her old home, her dreams, and how- bad it's been since she got here.

"I'm- sorry. For everything I've done. I'm a bitch." I mumble, looking at her. She's curled up next to me on the couch. She shrugs, and I rub her shoulder, calmly. Part of me enjoys this- she's... magnetic. Simply brilliant.

She makes me happy in a bittersweet way.  It's crushing to know i broke her heart and her spirit, and part of me can hear her snapping back "Don't be so narcissistic, you don't have the power the break me."

I don't. I don't even have the power to be someone to her, and that fucking sucks, but she called me......

Because she has no one else to call, maybe. I shake my head- if she likes me or not right now doesn't matter, she needs comfort, and I will be a better person. For myself and for her. "I mean it Cassiopeia. I was a mythic bitch. I was a bully and a dick to you, and I don't want to be the person you hide from. I don't want to be the bully anymore. I am so so so sorry for everything I did, for everything I am, for everything. You didn't deserve it, and you don't now. I am so sorry for what Theodore did to you and all the things you have to deal with- Someone so good doesn't deserve something so- cruel."

"You think this is new? The only thing different now is that I have no one behind me physically. I am not alone, and I forgive you, because you are trying. But I don't go by "forgive and forget" bullshit. I go by "remember and recover." Jessica, I forgive you, but that doesn't change the months of unprovoked torment or dread to leave my house. It doesn't excuse the things you did-" she pauses, sitting up and looking my way, her face serious, "but it acknowledges your growth and apology, and opens a door for you to take if you are sincere about being better." 

A second chance.

I  shake my head, then nod- then shake my head. 

"I am- I'm sorry- I wasn't expecting- that- shit- wow- uh, okay then..." At a loss for words, I stand up. "I- I wasn't expecting that. I was kind of expecting the Cassie-Classic." 

She raises a brow,

" Cassie classic..?" she questions, an amused look dancing its way on her features. "So do tell me, Jessie, what is the classic Cassie?"

"Well- It's-" I pause, collecting my thoughts, "You know that John Green book, 'Paper Towns'?  Its like- what Margo did with all the catfish." 

She stares at me for a long, silent moment as a tension builds in the air, before bursting out in laughter. 

" that was tHE NERDIEST AND MOST RELATABLE THING I HAVE EVER HEARD YOU SAY, JESSICA." she takes a gasp of air in, snorting from laughing so hard as my face flushes, "YOU READ?!?!"

"HEY! IM A HORRIBLE PERSON, NOT SOME ILLITERATE SWINE! Besides! Its not like I consume myself in books, just every now and then." I shrug, rolling my eyes.

"Say, Jessica...." she smiles deviously, "You came over drunk the other day." 

"No I didn't, you're insane, this is slander-" 

"You just NEEDED to see me! You're a snuggle-enabler by the by." She smiles, turning away and teasing me. 

"Well- then- you'l have to make it even!!!!" I snap, knowing my cheeks are redder than Rudolph's blinking nose. 

She turns around, the cutest look of confusion. the slight lip pout, the furrowed brows, the way her eyes sparkled with a child-like curiosity, the way her lips looked so-

WELL REFRESHED AND TOTALLY STRAIGHT.

"Okay, I'll bite." she shrugs, turning on her heel to look at me, "How are we gonna make us even, babe?" She raises her brows, crosses her arms, and tilts her head slightly. 

"uh- You- can- pick a hoodie of mine to borrow, cause thats equal on the homo-no-homo scale."

"Its 2018, Pro-homo, Jessie."

I turn red and turn away, rolling my eyes.

 "Whatever~" I scoff.

"If you have to justify an action with "No homo", you're probably homo."  She says nonchalantly as we walk upstairs to my room, and I pull out a few hoodies, expecting her to lean towards the darker, and more sardonic hoodies.  Her eyes light up like a kid on christmas when she sees a tie-dyed, pastel, holographic-logo unicorn hoodie. She starts giggling like a little kid and picks it up, holding it up to me. "can I take this one- it's my spirit animal-" 

"A- hold up. Your spirit animal is a pastel holographic unicorn!?? Since when, goth moth-" I laugh, in disbelief and a bit of  shock. 

"Since fuck you."

After cassie goes home, I sit down and text Amber, getting ready for revenge.

Jessie: Hey bichhhhh, you wanna help me get some revenge on Theodore?

Amber: Teddy? As in that theodore? wtf.. what did he do-?

Jessie: unimportant. you in?

Amber: *SIGHHH* Yeah, I'm in. why weren't you at school? Taking a break day?

Jessie: yeah. Hung out with Cass. p cool. we should eat lunch w/ her until Erika gets her shit together or grows tf up and admits her mistake.

...

Get ready, Teddy. You played with fire, you tried to put it out, and its coming back to bite you in the ass.

(A/N) IM so so so sorry for not updating in a while and for it being like 800 words shorter, I have lost motivation and I am slowly working towards this without burning myself out. Please bare with me. I love your views and support. <3