#I KNOW I SCREAM ABOUT THIS EVERY GODDAMN DAY BUT I AM JUST SO TIRED!!!!!!!!!

[musical-chick-13]

Post: I hate misogynistic double standards, where is the widespread love for horrible women in fiction.

Inevitably, at least one buffoon in the tags: But what about horrible men! Maybe I love horrible people!

[whoblewboobear]

It’s strange, I’m used to hyperfixating hard on things like HARD (beats my 2yr long beetlejuice musical obsession back with a stick) but Starbreaker- not even fantasy high itself took me over to the point of feeling like a teen about. Like I haven’t had this much fun in fandom in years. I haven’t like- interacted with people this much in fandom in years (which is still not enough but if I beat myself up about social interaction again I’ll jump off a cliff)

But there’s never been a concern of like “this obsession won’t fade for a while but it’ll lose popularity” and that’s fine and surprisingly it hasn’t. But it is different. It’s like adapting to it constantly as the thing itself changes even when there are aspects that you’d like to stay the same. Like that ‘I don’t go to this school of thought, but I’ll still take the class bc it’s interesting’ sorta thing.

And then there’s that feeling of WANTING to contribute but the thing has become such a beast that it’s like oooh I’m so out of my depths here.

Also like constantly having to look myself in the eye and be like ‘bitch you don’t have to talk or contribute to EVERYTHING’ and the sooner I accept that and accept that it is what it is, ill miss things, I won’t get enjoyment out of every aspect and every aspect isn’t for me and that that isn’t a bad thing, I’ll stop having moments of feeling weird and out of place. I have my lil corner and that’s okay

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you please write about being jey and jimmy adoptive little sister (so we can feel more included about not looking like them honestly) , reader is like 18/19 and being completely heartbroken about the fact that all reader wanted was for her family to be together and now both jimmy and jey want attentions from her but she won’t chose and this thing is breaking her, and like she’s friend with rhea or the judgment day so she comfort her (sorry for my english i’m from poland!)

Thank you so much if you take my request

the usos x sister!reader

‼️fighting, reader having a panic attack and breaking down

broken pieces

you always had a special bond with jey and jimmy. you were their little sister and they felt overprotective about you. they didn’t want anything or anyone to cause you harm.

but what if they were the ones hurting you?

they both saw it on your face almost a year ago, when you were watching front row jey against roman at summerslam.

the betrayal on your face when jimmy sides with roman, hurting jey and hurting you. they both looked at you and realised something in you just broke.

jey was hurt and confused like you were. jimmy felt tears in his eyes when he met your heartbroken look. you were his baby sister after all, the one he promised to protect with his own life.

and now you couldn’t even stand to be in his presence.

but no matter what you tried to do, they now hated each others and that made you even more furious and sad. those big men were your big brothers, your bodyguards, the people you loved the most and now all you had was a broken family.

almost a year later and things didn’t got any better, in fact, their constant beefing backstage was tiring anyone.

“i can’t believe this” jimmy kept screaming as he wanted to punch jey right in the face.

you didn’t even know where this argument started from but, like every single time you found yourself stuck in the middle of it.

“if only you weren’t so self centred…” jey screamed back at jimmy.

“me? me? are you fucking serious? me? self centred? aren’t you the one going around and wanting to be called main event?” jimmy laughed “so i am the self centred one uh?”

“you going crazy man!” jey spat back “are you planning to ruin every single moment of my career like you’re doing every week on live tv man?”

“stop it stop it stop it!” you screamed at them. you were witnessing this stupid fight and knowing you couldn’t do anything to get to stop was hurting you. so, as you predicted, they kept screaming at each others.

“i ain’t ruining no one’s moment man, it’s just you who can’t accept some people are way better that you anyway” jimmy responded back, making jey laugh.

“so you’re better that me? that’s funny man, so why, if you’re that better than me, why, aren’t you getting booked? uh? cat got your tongue man?” jey sarcastically laughed making jimmy angrier.

you couldn’t stay there any longer.

“fucking stop it!” you screamed once again, tears falling from your eyes “stop fighting like goddamn children! i-i can’t do this anymore, i really can’t” you looked at both at them “all you do is fighting and fighting and i can’t do this anymore…i just want my family back”

jey, sensing your anxiety, tried to take a few steps close to you but you stepped back, not wanting to be close to anyone.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” jimmy apologised, hating to see you cry and hating himself even more, knowing he’s the reason you are crying.

“i don’t care if you are sorry! you always say you guys are sorry and then fight again and again and again and i can’t deal with this shit anymore! i just want my brothers back…i-i…” you were having trouble breathing “i just want this to be over”

“y/n, love, why don’t you sit down a little?” jey suggested when he saw you were struggling to breathe. he knew your anxiety and he knew you struggled with panic attacks and he was hating himself for being the reason you were struggling right now.

“no! no i don’t wanna sit here and hear you fight again! i-i…i don’t wanna…” your head was dizzy and the look jimmy gave jey made them understand each other without sharing a word.

“sit here love…” jey slowly walked you towards the little black leather couch inside his changing room “breath with me y/n…” you did as jey told you to do and you felt all the energy leaving your body.

“you feeling better?” jimmy asked, sitting next to you while jey was knelt in front of your sat position.

“why do you have to keep fighting?” you asked them, your voice breaking a little, now your tears falling down your face again “and don’t say you’re sorry” you warned jimmy.

“we will try to stop okay?” jey smiled at you. deep down he knew he couldn’t keep fighting with his brother forever but at the same time it was hard for him to forgive him so quickly.

“i don’t want a “we will try” jey, i want my brothers back…i want to spend time with you together like we did last year…” you cried harder, your breathing getting worse again “you just don’t understand this…i-i hate seeing you fight every day, i hate seeing you punching yourselves, i fucking hate having to share days with you like you are my divorced parents!”

“hey hey keep breathing slowly sweetheart” jey reminded you.

jimmy and jey both had no idea how this family feud was affecting you. they just discovered it now and they were both hating themselves for hurting you that much.

“you just don’t understand…” you whispered.

“no words can’t express how sorry i am love…” jimmy softly whispered with teary eyes. seeing you having a panic attack was the worst thing he ever witnessed. you were his baby sister who he was meant to protect so why would he hurt you that much?

same thing was for jey.

“i just miss you…” your voice broke a little.

jey cursed himself “i know things between us aren’t the best but our feelings for you will never change. no matter what, you will always be our baby sister and we’ll love you forever…i will try my best to not fight with jimmy okay?” you simply nodded while his soft hand wiped your tears away.

“i promise you we will be better” jimmy went and you nodded again, being happy with their responses.

“now, i’m pretty sure you have work to do so i’ll go back to my hotel room…but, if you’re free tonight can we have a movie marathon like we always did when i was younger?” you asked them, hope sparkling in your eyes.

they couldn’t say not to that.

so they said yes.

they knew they had a lot of work to do, especially when it came to them but, no matter the circumstances, they would always have your back.

[jamil-s-wifey]

Hello :3 Can I get a long scenario with my dearest Jamil?

I really love him so much >///< so here is my scenario, I hope you can accept

Jamil got sick and has a fever. MC stayed beside him and nursed him for 3 days without blinking and finally he recovered. He started to remember her care during his illness after his fever dropped. And when he woke up, MC hugged him tightly. A bit long, huh? 😅 I would be happy with little NSFW, not gonna lie.

Well hello there, fellow Jamil enthusiast~ It has certainly been a hot minute, hasn't it? It is my utmost pleasure to present you with the *long-awaited* scenario at hand! A bit of NSFW, some heart-warming fluff and Jamil finally getting a GODDAMN break, coming right up! It's not full on NSFW, just a lil bit, as requested, I don't know why it turned out like that- still, I hope this is good! (Tbh, it fits the scenario)

P.S. This hit close to home, I used to be a very sickly child and I still catch all sorta sicknesses a lot easier than normal people. So, what he will experience here is all based on very PERSONAL and very SALTY experience. 🙃

"What am I gonna do with you? You can't keep pushing yourself so much!" You murmured, pressing a cold cloth to Jamil's forehead as he slept soundly.

.......

Jamil hated being sick. Pretty normal right? Everybody hates being sick.

But to Jamil, sickness meant pushing through and continuing with his chores, regardless of his wellbeing. Imagine cooking above a hot stove with a high temperature. Can't be pleasant, can it?

But even the hardest stones could crack under enough force - such is the way the world works. It was towards the end of the day, as Jamil was preparing Kalim's dinner, when he felt his body give out under him. All day he'd been going around with a fever, he felt as if his own body was rotting on the inside, screaming at him to stop and have a break. His eyes were watery and felt as though they were burning in his eye sockets.

He couldn't even reach a chair to sit, before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor - too dizzy and too weak. Rarely did he ever get this sick, but this time it was bad. He moved to a more comfortable position and remained like that, trying to gather enough strength to get some medicine..... He most certainly didn't realise he'd fallen asleep, too tired to move, nor did he hear Kalim's worried voice when he found him on the floor in the kitchen.

And Kalim? Kalim was terrified! Quickly he called on his dorm members to move him to his room and immediately called you, crying on the phone, worried that Jamil might never wake up. (That's not how colds work, Kalim-) Worried about Jamil, you immediately rushed to the Scarabia dorm, medicine in hand.

_____________

And now here you are, in the present, taking extensive care of your near delirious not-quite-boyfriend-but-kinda-love-interest. He'd occasionally wake up and exchange barely audible pleasantries with you, drink his "extra healthy and full of good stuff" chicken soup (whatever that was supposed to entail) and then fall back into slumber. His fever has gone down drastically, but the utter exhaustion left in its wake has kept him bedridden. Apparently it was a seasonal fever, which just so happened to hit Jamil, who in turn chose to ignore it in the beginning.

You'd taken the liberty to remain situated in his room for about three days.

Day one was the worst - high fever, clattering teeth and a sleepless night to boot. You'd change his shirt every time he'd drench it in sweat whilst fighting off the fever. You'd switch up the cloth every time it lost its cooling effect, you'd remained by his side the entire time, least he needed something anything at all.

"Once you get better, I'm so gonna yell at you for not taking better care of yourself.... You're lucky I love you." You'd mumbled, barely audible in the quiet of the room as he slept.

Day two was better - he slept through most of it and you could in turn prepare some soup, as well as cover most of his chores, get a pass from the teachers AND even leave him some of your notes for when he recovers. (Look at you go! He'd better propose imo)

Now, on day three he was evidently much healthier. Finally he gave up trying to get out of bed, and instead lay resting, drinking his medicine, feeling utterly pampered by you.

_____________

"How long have you...been here?" You seemed pretty tired in his eyes. The moment you heard his voice you immediately threw yourself gently on him, gently crushing his bones in a hug.

"A while." You responded, face buried in his chest. In reality, you hadn't had a proper night of sleep in about 3 days. You DID sleep, Kalim even prepared a guest bedroom, but you chose to remain next to Jamil for most of the time. "Do you know how worried I was?"

"You didn't have to do all this, you know? You could've get sick too."

"I could've, but I haven't. For somebody with such a keen eye and monstrous deliberation, you really don't know how to take care of yourself properly." You quipped back, moving to sit on the bed next to him.

"As, so I'm being reprimanded now." His gaze softened. "Thank you....for taking care of me these last few days... I've forgotten what it's like to not have to worry or do anything... I feel like I've slept a lifetime... I don't know how I could possibly return the favour."

You can't stay mad at him. He knows it, you know it. Hell, even the Great Seven know it.

"Return it by recovering completely."

He chose not to continue the conversation. He knew arguing was pointless.

"You know, while I was sleeping, or trying to, I was mostly aware of what was happening around me." He began, pushing himself up, in a sitting position. "When you'd quietly hum to yourself, or cuss when you couldn't find something..."

"Ah- well, did you now? Sorry if you had a difficult time falling asleep because of me. " you felt your cheeks warm up a bit.

"No no, please. It's fine. You've taken such good care of me. I just... couldn't help but hear something, which perhaps I wasn't meant to."

He reached out, tangling his hand in your hair.

"Something about you loving me?"

...

Nope, all that heat in your cheeks? Gone. Now it was just coldness and dread.

He saw your frazzled state and chuckled. "I guess I'm really lucky, to have you to take *such* good care of me, huh."

He leaned in, but stopped just centimetres away.

"I shouldn't."

You heart dropped even lower, if that was even possible.

"I could get you sick.~" There was a lilt to his voice, but his eyes showed concern.

"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you leaned in, smashing your lips onto his. He smiled into the kiss, pulling you towards him.

Naturally, you moved to sit in his lap, his hands moving to your waist.

"Your feelings are returned, for the record." He mumbled in between heated kisses. The more heated the kisses became, the more his hands would wander until-

In the blink of an eye, he flipped you over, so that you were underneath him. Skillfully he unbuttoned the first few buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your neck and collarbones. "I think I have a way of returning the favour. You took such good care of me, I think it's my turn~"

His attention moved to your neck, leaving heated languid kisses and playful bites on your skin. His hand trailed down to spread your legs, moving between them. Every single touch of his was intoxicating. Pretty quickly your shirt was thrown on the floor, the supple flesh underneath - covered in hickeys.

"Are you not going to undress as well? Or should I do that for you?" you asked, breathless, yet teasing in manner. Well. As teasing as one could get, given how achingly turned on you were. "Like you didn't have more than enough time to appreciate the view, during these last few days." he teased right back, but his hands moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time." He practically purred, fingers gliding over your stomach, gently trailing lower and lower.

"Of course, you can tell me to stop anytime."

"I don't want you to."

"As you wish, my dear. Then I'll make sure to indulge, taking, tasting, touching every single part of you. "

[wexhappyxfew]

How about “you can kiss me, you know” for Kennedy and Bucky if you think it fits them? 💜 I can’t wait to see what you cook up from these!

HI SWEET ANON!!!! i must say, upon receiving this prompt - my entire world shifted on its axis a bit so THANK YOU!!!!! the way this prompt fit them was SO INSANELY WELL. it just seemed to scream KENNEDY X BUCKY to me. and i just. ate it up. truly. this was a JOY and a TREAT to write and just. safe to say - bucky's POV of kennedy farley is one of my favorite things ever and just - THEY DESERVE THE WORLD !!!!!! they deserve all that is good and well!!! <3333 THANK YOU AGAIN ANON - positively *obsessed*! kennedy x bucky girlies this is for YOU! :D

you found me

(a/n): POV: we're in Bucky's POV, opening scene is when everyone is getting letters from home and he hasn't gotten a single one. that one post about the way the show seemed to portray bucky not getting letters left me reeling and just. do with that what you will. and also. yeah. kennedy makes bucky's mind got scatter-brained at every given opportunity lmao. COME AND GET IT !!!!!!!! THESE TWO JUST. INSANE. INSANE INSANE INSANE. (this prompt was everything) cue: you found mehhh, you found mehhhh, lying on the floorrrr...... (don't mind my horrible puns, it's in the title lmfao, i couldn't help it, but it's a kennedy quote so haha!)

The place was changing him.

He knew that much.

He could tell when he woke in the morning and went to bed at night, and his mind was an even deeper and darker place than it had been 12 hours earlier. Seeing the women the way they were, the men, the food situation, the general health of each and every person crammed in that bunk room, seeing the new guys coming in day in and day out, walking in circles convincing himself he wasn't crazy.

It was changing him and he couldn't wrangle in that change in any way that would be manageable.

And seeing those letters.

Goddamn, it made him a little crazy inside - those words, the smells, the feelings, the evident love and care that were in each and every one.

Something deep in his chest hurt a little more than he wanted when mail call would come and peoples' names would be read out and they'd get their letters and be reading it with such gratitude and genuineness in their gazes.

It usually made Bucky snippy, a little more irritated in a way he didn't want. And without fail, Buck could usually get a whiff of that the second that he grew quiet and withdrawn.

Curse his customary loud mouth!

"I think you were right," Buck said as they walked side by side, kicking up dust, grimacing at the slightly bitter chill of early-morning air racing across the open patch of brown dirt and sand their barracks were on, "we should've made a run for it while they were out chasing those Brits." Should've, could've, would've. Bucky bit back his lip and glanced sideways at Buck a bit before looking forward a bit with a shake of the head.

"Maybe, but I can't help thinking you were right. Better to play it safe." Bucky answered quietly back, a worn tone to his voice, sudden agitation lingering in his throat, "The hell am I rushing back home for?" It grew quiet for a moment.

What the hell was he so hellbent on getting out of here for anyway? A life? A home? A girlfriend? He shook his head.

"Other guys get letters. You get letters. Bessie gets letters. Hambone gets letters." Bucky said, "To get a letter, you need someone to get it from." Bucky watched as he kicked a stone forward, hands shoved deep into his pockets, the cool wind back again, blowing up his neck and across his face, "Guess I never set that part up right." Buck looked over at him slightly.

"That's just this place talking. You're tired."

"I am tired."

"You'll have plenty of time for that when you get out." Buck said, his ever-present tender tone, his voice a pleasant escape from the world around them, so hopeful and yearning for a future outside of this.

"You'll set it up right next time." Bucky wished he was a little more like that.

"They're only gonna know this me. Not the old me." Bucky said quietly, with a sigh. "Me before I got here. That's if we even get out."

"We'll get out. And this you will be the one worth knowing." Buck said - this you will be the one worth knowing? Would this Bucky be worth it? Knowing him? His tendencies, his way about looking at life like it were some sort of rock to throw in the water on the side of a river? Like hazardously tip-toeing around something without taking that extra care to see it through? The Bucky who lost all composure when Buck had gone down, when men went down every day, when Kennedy had come in looking more ghost than waist gunner.

"You sure about that?" he asked Bucky, glancing over at the man with a stern look in his gaze, "I wouldn't be convinced."

"Farley seems convinced." Buck said and it took all of two seconds for Bucky to freeze.

Farley?

Listen, Bucky was a fan of Kennedy Farley, always had been, always would be - even if she was a Red Sox fan - but he had lost the point where Farley was connected to the conversation.

"What's Farley gotta do with this?" Bucky asked, turning to look at Buck with a slightly standoffish look in his eye, "I don't think she needs any sort of convincing. She just….thinks what she thinks and does what she needs to do from there, you know? Don't get me wrong, Farley's a good someone to have in your back pocket - hell, we're in each other's by this point but-" Buck stopped and looked to him, placing his hands on his hips, giving Bucky a look, stopping Bucky in his rather rambling attempt to cover his ass - for whatever reason, he wasn't sure.

"You know what I'm talking about, Bucky," Buck said, his voice quiet, "don't tell me you're confused." Bucky looked at him.

"Cut the crap, Buck." Bucky said quietly, watching as Buck smiled the slightest bit.

"You can't keep your eyes off her, Bucky," Buck said quietly, "and here you are saying you got no one." Buck stepped forward and gently patted his shoulder. "She's been there the whole time."

Bucky followed Buck into the bunk room and immediately let his eyes become drawn to her there at the table in the center of the room, her ginger hair falling over her shoulders, her eyes looking more tired than they had been in days, and her nose bright red - still fighting off that damn cold everyone had seemed to catch.

Bucky had paused a bit in the threshold, his body locked up in a way that he was sure even a fire couldn't melt and briefly caught Buck's gaze back at him as he went to lift himself onto a bunk.

It was pretty quiet in the room for one and going directly over to Kennedy, and asking her just to talk real quick would probably make things more obvious than needed.

And a sudden bit of jitters hit him as he stood there, eyes locked on Kennedy, hands shoved in his pockets, heart pounding. With the way the sun seemed to be hitting her from the windowpane that they had stood by those few weeks in the middle of the night, he couldn't help but seem to swallow all his thoughts and words into a pit in the middle of his stomach.

"Sir?" Bucky blinked quickly to find the group at the table looking up at him, the familiarity of Margie's voice hitting his ears as he glanced at her, sat at the table, flipping through a book - a mixture of mild confusion and concern contorting her face.

"Uh," Bucky started, clearing his throat awkwardly and then looking to Kennedy, "can we talk?" His voice came out slightly hoarse, muffled and choked as he asked her and he knew he needed to get it together quick or he'd look more like a clown than anything.

Kennedy gave him a weird look - she was always giving him weird looks, admittedly, if she wasn't, he'd probably be more concerned. But then she nodded, placing down her own book in her hands and got to her feet, a slight smile on her face.

That smile was enough to send him into a new dimension, he was sure of that - and he wasn't sure of a lot of things - the war, the future, even right now. He was sure of that smile though.

And Kennedy.

"What's up?" she asked him, coming around the table and looking up at him.

Words, words, words.

"Not here." Bucky said quickly, not missing the slow smile rising on Buck's face from somewhere in his goddamn peripheral that was enough to make him squirm, "The library?" Kennedy eyed him.

"Sure." she said, vaguely suspicious sounding. She slid past him and it seemed it got his own legs moving as he caught Buck's eye again - who winked enthusiastically. Bucky gave him a look, briefly catching Margie's second of growing suspicion before following after Kennedy to the library at the corner of the building.

Stepping inside, it was empty and if anything - quiet. Bucky could get a wrangle on his thoughts and hopefully not sound like a fool in front of Kennedy.

Kennedy turned to him as he slowly shut the door behind him, her eyes running over him worriedly, stood with her arms folded across her chest, a quiet look on her face that was beyond enough to make his insides warm.

He'd seen Kennedy Farley as a more stripped back person of herself out here and to say it made him yearn for that time back in Thorpe Abbotts everyday, made him go a little crazy. If he hadn't been so….just chasing after anything, so blinded by the alcohol and the women and the music. If he'd just taken a moment to focus and see Kennedy Farley had been there all along. With that laugh, that smile, her comforting words, her willingness to put herself all out there just for the hell of it.

"You okay?" Kennedy asked him, her eyes searching his face, a small smile darting out with a chuckle, "You look a little pale."

"For Chrissake, the sun don't ever come out, Kenny," he said, his nervous chatter slipping out as a small smile graced his presence and it seemed to echo in Kennedy's smile back to him, "no, no, I'm fine, serious, just. Needed to talk. To you."

"Yeah." Kennedy said, watching him, slightly confused, "We….sorta established that back in the bunk room."

"Right." Bucky said, his brain malfunctioning in every improper way that a brain could in a moment like this, "Need to talk. Yes." Kennedy laughed slightly, before simply smiling that gorgeous grin.

"So, what's up?"

Two feet between them felt like the farthest they'd been.

"Not much, just…..with Buck getting that letter and all. From Marge…." Bucky started, his voice steady for once. Confident.

"Marge." Kennedy echoed, "Seems like a sweetheart. The two of them."

"Yeah," Bucky choked out and nodded, placing his hands on his hips, "yeah, just….thought a lot and. Talked to Buck about things and just. This. Where we are. It's…." Kennedy watched him, the previous bit of light-hearted joking in her eyes dwindling away as she watched him.

"What's going on, Bucky?" Kennedy asked, her voice serious in a way that made his words pull themselves together - because that's what Kennedy deserved. None of his stumbling, mumbling, jumbling self.

"I just…." Bucky started and then couldn't help but slowly reach out and placed his hands on her shoulders, slowly moving in small circles near her clavicle and towards her shoulders, squeezing gently as they stared at each other, her face so close to his, he could see green specks in her brown eyes, "Getting downed. In that plane. And having you show up. All those talks we've had. All those nights. I just. You've helped me to realize a lot of things about life that wouldn't have fucking come to my attention if I hadn't talked to you." Kennedy stared at him, slightly taken aback.

"And…..Kennedy, I just," Bucky started, holding her gaze, his eyes on her lips and her bright-red nose and her eyes and back to her lips again - God, if he could just get a taste right here, right now, "even when the war ends, I don't…. I don't want to stop knowing you." A moment of silence stilled around them as Kennedy let out a small breath and slowly nodded at him.

"Me either, Bucky," she said, and then tilted her head, "what's going on, Bucky, seriously. Are you running a fever? Did someone say something to you? You're gonna live through this, ya know?"

"I know!" Bucky exclaimed, his voice louder than wanted as he looked back to her and shook his head and sighed, "I know, it's not….it's not that. It's….it's more. Us. You and me."

"What about you and me?" Kennedy asked him, a small smile growing on her face before gently bumping his shoulder with a first, "We're good, you know that. You and me." Bucky watched her, the corners of his lips growing upwards into a grin.

"I know that." he said with a slow nod and smile that got her grinning wider.

"Then what's got your mind racing?" she asked him, stepping closer to him. Bucky swallowed.

"You." he said, confident as can be - he was always confident looking at her, at them. Her back hit the wall next to the door, their faces intermingling in front of one another as they continued staring into each other's eyes, her slightly lower than him but all just the same.

"Me?" she asked, as if to spur him and his pounding heart on, "Highest honors, Bucky Egan. What did I ever do to deserve lingering in your mind so much, huh?"

"A lot," admonished Bucky, verbalizing his thoughts for once, "everything you do. Even just standing there like this. You make me crazy, you know." Kennedy's eyes flitted to his lips and she sucked in a breath as she met his gaze again.

"Well," Kennedy whispered, slowly reaching up to wrap her fists in balls of his brown A2 near the collar, smiling slightly, "if you must satisfy such a need and displeasure, you can just kiss me, you know."

Everything around Bucky practically dissipated in his peripheral vision, his hands freezing on her shoulders, acutely aware of the death grip she had on the front of his A2, along with that look in her eye.

Watching her, knowing she was watching him back, suddenly made him realize what words had just slipped from her mouth. Kennedy Farley's mouth. He must've pulled quite the 'slap-in-the-face' sort of look because Kennedy smirked, rather confidently, and pulled him slightly closer, her warm breath fanning his face, that look in her eyes making him feel like ice next to fire.

"When were you gonna tell me you wanted to kiss me, huh?" he whispered, voice low, briefly noticing her cheeks bloom to a light crimson, enough to make him chuckle as he found himself now, stepping closer, caging her practically against the wall with his broad-shouldered form.

Months ago, if you told him, he'd be standing there, inches from Kennedy Farley, he would've laughed. He really would've. For it seemed that what it was worth, Kennedy Farley wanted nothing more out of him than simply a friend and a leader. And suddenly, she was standing right there, her eyes on his lips, his hands slowly creeping towards her neck, brushing the skin beneath her jawline and he felt the collar of his neck grow hot.

"When were you gonna tell me?" she whispered back, looking up at him; enough to make his mind feel quickly scattered and Bucky couldn't seem to help it.

Bucky heard those words from her lips and didn't think twice, as he leaned down and engulfed her lips with his own, a groan leaving his mouth as she pulled him towards her even more so, kissing back with just as much urgency as he had to her.

His hands were pressed into her rosy cheeks, her fingers were into his hair and he could feel every inch of her lips on his - kissing back in a way that did make him crazy. He didn't know how fast things were moving when a whimper left her lips and he slid his tongue into her mouth, this slow, sanguine pull inside him making him yearn for all of her right then and there.

It was desperate, maybe a little bit messy, but Bucky had never wanted someone so bad that made him so nervous like a schoolboy.

He had never wanted like this.

He couldn't help it when his hands moved to her waist and a moan left her mouth as his lips trailed to her jawline and then to her neck, nibbling at each and every soft part of her skin that was flush with the feel of her underneath his lips. She was groaning quietly in his ear, enough to make all of his senses suddenly….something he hadn't felt in quite some time, as he pulled back briefly only to capture her lips in his again.

And for a moment, they had to pull back, he had to pull back or he wouldn't be able to control himself, gently pressing his forehead against hers, the two of them panting like some sort of other worldly creature.

Being so close to her, intoxicated by her touch and her being, her felt crazed by what the feel of her lips on his had been. Her hand slowly trailed up to the side of his slightly stubbled face, her fingertips making him shiver and an almost desperate, groaning noise leaving his lips just at her touch. It was like fire - good fire - and how fire was good he would never know because though it could keep you warm, it always brought some form of destruction with it all. But her touch, her flame, the fire, it made him completely undone.

"I feel insane around you," Bucky whispered softly against her lips before deeply pressing a kiss against her evidently swollen lips and pulling back, "you know that?" He couldn't open his eyes, he felt drugged under her touch and simply her, but he heard her let out a quiet laugh, her hands gently tapping along the sides of his face again as she did so.

"Didn't know I had that sort of effect on you, Major Egan." she whispered quietly, her voice slightly hoarse. Bucky let out a quick laugh, before squeezing his hands against her hips again that were so deeply pressed against his own and he sighed, a pathetic sigh.

"Longer than I thought actually, Kenny," he whispered quietly back, "way longer than I thought."

Kennedy giggled - she giggled.

Bucky's brain actually stuttered a bit at the thought of Kennedy giggling - like that - because it seemed the last thing she'd do. But it sounded so adorable and he was the only one that had heard it and for a second, he felt like the luckiest person to be standing there right now.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and found Kennedy and her big, deep brown eyes already staring back at him - catching that brilliant gaze that watched him back - slightly giddy, soft and enthralled all at once. A sight he'd probably remember until his death bed.

And he couldn't help but grin and bring up a hand to cup the side of her face, touching her skin, her hair, her. He felt like had was under a spell and she was the culprit in every right way that she could be one.

"I can honestly say much of the same," Kennedy whispered quietly, her eyes growing squinty for a minute as she smiled and laughed, "you always looked at me different, Bucky, I knew that." Bucky watched her, his smile seemingly plastered on his face and he couldn't fight it down.

"What are you talking about?" he whispered back, leaning closer, their noses brushing, his other hand escaping up under her shirt to her bare skin, caressing her softness, "Different, huh? You noticed?"

"And you're admitting to it?" she whispered back with another chuckle, "Bucky Egan, you are really surprise after surprise, aren't you." She chuckled and he couldn't help but watch her eyes again so close to her.

"Nah," Bucky whispered, "just….." He watched her smile. "I always thought about you, ya know. And I wasn't lying. Back when I heard Silver Bullets took a hit and it was Margie. I thought of you." Bucky grinned wider.

"I'd think of you at night, too. Sometimes I wondered if I could try and find you at night, just to talk to you," Bucky whispered, "but I'd shove it out of my mind. Didn't think you thought like that. About me. About us." Kennedy watched him, a small smile lingering on her lips.

"You could've come and found me," Kennedy whispered back to him, her thumb brushing his cheek, a grin poking out, "would've been better than….I don't know, wrestling with some fucking nightmares, ya know?"

"I'll be honest, Farley, I probably would've kissed you way sooner then if I had done that," Bucky said with a winning grin, "a helluva lot sooner. Coming and finding you." Kennedy watched him, her eyes shining as she let out a laugh.

"You found me." she whispered back and Bucky couldn't seem to help the grin on his face as he came to cup her cheeks.

"I'd see you at the flying club," Bucky whispered, softly pressing his lips to her nose, "dancing and drinking and twirling and singing….." Kennedy watched him from right there across from him, inches from his face. "I've always liked you, Kenny."

"Always?"

"Always." Bucky said, "Back when you were my waist gunner - you always had that confident look in your eye, I knew you could probably shoot better than the rest of the guys, and you sure as hell were one tough nut to crack and I…you're just always in the back of my mind, ya know?"

"John Egan." Kennedy whispered, reaching up to loop her fingers into his hair and trace down the sides of his face, "I don't deserve you."

"You're telling me," Bucky whispered, "I don't deserve an ounce of you, but here we are and I feel like the luckiest man in the world. Fuck." Kennedy watched him and continued this gentle touch along his head, with the most genuine, soft look in her eyes.

"Telling my parents that the man I'm in love with is a Yankees fan-" Bucky's heart pounded. She continued talking, but he missed whatever else she had just said. His thoughts honed in on her first sentence.

That word.

"What?" Bucky said quietly, looking at her fully, his smile gone, his eyes bright, "What'd you say?"

"I'm gonna have to tell my parents that you're a Yankees fan - and my brothers! They're gonna-"

"No, no," Bucky whispered quietly, a smile growing on his cheeks as he softly pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, "the other thing. The other part of that." Kennedy stared at him and then let out a soft chuckle.

"I'm in love with a Yankees fan."

"Who is me?"

"Who is you."

"And who you love?"

"For quite some time." Kennedy whispered, her eyes glossy, "I don't tell people about much more than what you can see of me, much less what's inside of me. You know more than what my mother might know." Bucky chuckled against her lips and pressed another kiss there, holding her there so deeply and strongly, he didn't want to let go.

"What I'm trying to say without it sounding all over the place," Kennedy whispered as he pulled back, "is that I'm in love with you and that I love you." Bucky watched her, smirking, so widely, so genuinely, so proudly, that if they weren't here, he didn't know what he'd do with words like that. He had a few ideas, but he was so focused on her right now that he couldn't think straight.

"I'm really fucking in love with you, too, Kenny," he whispered, his free hand on her bare skin on her back pressing against her and making a small whimper escape her lips as he sighed pleasantly, "and I really want to kiss you again. For a while." Kennedy stared at him - her face was glowing, he swore to God, and she smiled. His heart pounded.

"Then kiss me, Major," she whispered against his lips, "kiss me hard."

And he did just that.

[joey-marvel14]

Holding on..(oneshot)

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: you notice Bucky is been more quiet then usual. He’s not talking to anyone, not even you. Bucky becomes withdrawn, his eyes are more puffy and sleep deprived, you notice he’s not eating as much either.

Warning: ‼️ ANGST, MENTIONS SYMPTOMS OF DEPRESSION AND SLIGHT GORE, SOME COMFORT, PANIC ATTACK.

———————————————————————————

I’m usually up at ridiculous times in the morning, I’m quite productive in the early mornings. So I simply walk around the avengers tower until I feel sleepy enough to go back to bed.

This was one of those mornings.

I travelled down to the kitchen to go and grab a snack, I looked out of the big windows to see the beautiful pink and yellow sunrise. I smiled at how gorgeously detailed the sky was. I continued to walk downstairs. As I entered the kitchen I saw a figure, I immediately recognised who it was. I smiled widely, happy to see him

“Hey Bucky-” Bucky turned around. My smile slightly faulted.

My eyes travelled to his face..

His eyes seemed like they were sunken in by the dark eye bags it looks like he hasn’t slept in days. I took a closer look at his eyes and they looked red and puffy, like he’s been crying, fresh tear stains glided apon his cheeks. My stare slowly appeared downwards to his chest and ribcage, his body looked skinnier, malnourished. I stared at him not completely recognising the person in front of me. What happened to the other Bucky?

I looked at all of him…together. A concerned feeling settled in my chest.

I thought about a way to approach him. I softened my tone and eyes

“Hey buck, Are you alright?” Bucky responded with a nod and a grunt. His face was expressionless, numb even.

Bucky pushed past me and quickly walked to his quarters. I instinctively ran after him. I approached his door to his room. And softly knocked on.

“Bucky..” I called apon him softly. There was no answer. I decided to push down on the handle, I wander into Bucky bedroom. It was dark and messy.

“Bucky?” I gently called out to him.

My eyes wandered throughout his room, until I saw his balcony doors were open, the curtains were softly blowing towards me, almost leading me onto the rail. I gulped hardly, I felt sick to my stomach, wandering what i could find. Hopefully an alive Bucky I thought.

As I got closer I saw a silhouette of a figure sat down. I breathed out a sigh of relief. I got closer to Bucky, Bucky didn’t even looked over to see who it was, he was curled up, leaning against the railing. A shiver went down my spine. I decided to sit down with him I sat the other side. Not once did he look at me, to which I found bizarre. I saw his Adam’s Apple bob up and down. He looked so tired…

I spoke up.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk. But I won’t be leaving you like this. We can just sit here in silence if that’s what you want. But just know that I’m here for you.” I placed a hand on his knee to let him know that I am actually here. I saw Buckys jaw clenched and his eyes quickly glance at me then to the hand on the knee.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes looking down. It looked like Bucky was having an internal conflict

“I can’t cope anymore.” I sat there in silence waiting for him to say more

“I hear there screams…there screams. The ones that I killed” his voice broke a little.

“There cries for me to stop, to have mercy on them. . They haunt me. Every goddamn face is attached to me in my dreams. There’s not one moment of peace where I get to just take a breath, without the reminder that I’ve killed someone.”

I nodded gently, still listening.

“I am….bearly…hanging on and nobody can see how much pain I am in.” The tears in his eyes began to fill, as his voice cracks.

“I just can’t do it…anymore.” Bucky broke down, his breathing became unsteady, as tears streamed down his face his chest rised up and down quickly, as I could hear him struggle to keep calm. I slowly moved myself closer to bucky. I cupped his hands, and brought them forward so he looks at me.

“James. Breathe.” My gaze was soft I looked him in his eyes, and took a breath, held it, and let it go.

He repeated the action. Slowly he began breathing more steadily.

“What was that?” Bucky asked, he averted eye contact.

“It was a panic attack.” I responded.

“Bucky look at me. You need to understand that you didn’t have a choice in becoming the winter soldier. What you did…it wasn’t your fault, You hear me?. You fought back for as long as you could. You did your best. You tried, and that’s all anyone could ask for.” My words were firm but reassuring. I saw buckys body somewhat relax, however I could tell he was still on guard.

“Can I hug you?” I asked, he looks like he could use one. Bucky slightly nodded.

I moved myself next to Bucky, I held my arms open. He moved in slowly, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze. He let go first and instead rested his head on my shoulder.

“Your not alone James, you’ll always have someone in your corner even if you don’t think you do”

“Mhm” he responded, I looked over and saw that Bucky was drifting off, his eyes looked so heavy, he looked like he could just collapse at anytime.

“Come on buck. Let’s go to bed” I slowly began to stand up. I grabbed Buckys arm and hinted at him to stand up too. He reluctantly got up. I led him to his bed. To which he shook him head and said:

“No. I don’t sleep there.” He pointed at the floor I saw a thin cushion, and a blanket filled with holes. I turned around to him.

“I understand however, just for the rest of the morning sleep on the bed please” I compromised with him, hoping that it would get him to understand that sleeping on the bed for one night wouldn’t hurt him. He nodded. I pulled back the black duvet, Bucky sat down on the bed, and eventually laid down, I saw he had shoes and a jacket on so I took them both off, too make him slightly more comfortable. I placed the duvet over him, and moved the hair out of his face.

“Goodnight” I smiled.

“Wait. Could you stay here until I atleast fall asleep ? I would feel better if I had someone in the room…” he looked a tad guilty.

“Sure” I smiled. I went over the the cabinets and picked out a soft blanket. And made myself comfy on the small chair he had in the corner.

Eventually quiet snores could be heard from Bucky. I felt like I could take a breath. I felt tired as well, so I decided to take a nap..

———————————————————————————

helllloooooo thank you for readingggggggg I hope it was okay :)

Goodbyeeee

[retrobahng]

O. TEASER. into the verse (series.)

summary: sometimes there are some kind of weird coincidences. you were supposed to wake up the next morning and finally have the oddinary album in your hands after all the hard work in that shitty job you were to get the money, oh hell you did really hated that asshole boss of yours. they're some kind of weird coincidences that the first thing when you opened your eyes you found the pretty face of a boy, who kept calling you noona? asking you about a part of some choreography? not even noticing how he was speaking korean and you understood him? haha, what a weird dream.

"JAE-HYUNG, NOONA IS IGNORING ME"

"YAH! (Y/N) WAKE UP, CHAN HAS BEEN CALLING ME BECAUSE YOU DON'T PICK HIS CALLS"

wait, what?

pairings: stray kids x fem!reader. idol!au.

tw: none

word count; 3.2k

'Cool but what about my Oddinary album?' You thought while the pretty boy who called you noona a few moments ago was frowning at you, waiting for answer for his question that you don't even remember again. From what you had more or less heard you realized that he had a really nice voice, that type of voice that you would like them to whisper nice things in your ear.

With that finally thought, you came back to reality and you close your eyes lazily, thinking it was your brain playing with your sleepy self, knowing perfectly if you weren't so tired you would have reacted differently with such a beautiful guy in front of you, you never know when there will be another opportunity for a dream like this. But, nope not today, you were strangely really exhausted. As if a train had appeared and crushed you over and over again

Extending your arm from the softness provided by the soft blanket, you put your hand on the boy's face, pushing him away from you. "Leave me alone, Aki'" you unconsciously said without realizing how you just said a random name out of your lips and in Korean?. 'I hope when I wake up I already have the goddamn album in my hands, hours of work aren't going waste. I really need that Hyunjin photocard' With a smile you go back to sleep unware how the boy you called Aki, was looking at you with a deadpanned stare.

"JAE-HYUNG, NOONA IS IGNORING ME" he suddenly shouts, running back to the door he went in to try to wake up his noona, because apparently he had a serious problem with one part of the choreography (Y/N) had prepared for one of the b-side of their new album which the will release very soon. But as always (Y/N) was being lazy using the excuse that she has her period. Do women have it every day? "I will never understand girls" he said muttering to himself and rolling his eyes, thinking that when he has the chance he will call his mother and he would ask her about that.

Akihiko with quick pace, he went down the stairs that connect to the second floor, where all the rooms were except of the leader's that chose the room on the first floor, who said exactly the day they moved into that house 'No way am I going to live next to hungry gorillas that all they do is scream' getting a 'Hey!' from (Y/N).

With a determined step, he went to the kitchen following the rich smell of rameyon that comes from. Meeting the tall figure of their leader, who was busy in front of the stove, humming a soft rhythm as he moved through the spacious kitchen.

"Hyung, (Y/N) noona is ignoring me~" With a whine, Akihiko drops himself into one of the few chairs that were there. A yawn coming from him after that. "Gosh, again rameyon? You don't know how to do any other thing apart of that? Where is Taewoo hyung?"

The tall boy without looking back at Aki and turning deaf ears to the questions of the Japanese boy. He hum in content of how the breakfast was turning out.

"YAH! (Y/N) WAKE UP, CHAN HAS BEEN CALLING ME BECAUSE YOU DON'T PICK HIS CALLS" Jaesang yelled remembering how the leader of Stray Kids was bothering him with his calls asking your about your whereabouts.

He can't really blame dispatch for bringing out those rumors of you and bang chan dating. If he didn't know you guys at all, Jae would think that y'all were dating. It felt like yesterday, how that scandal of the two of you came out and even with photos included! You will see in every social media "Chan of Stray Kids and (Y/N) of Echo allegedly dating" or "Chan of Stray Kids and (Y/N) of Echo caught leaving a restaurant together +photos" rumor after rumor, dozens of meetings with JYP, the disapproving looks from their managers and in the end, the statement came out denying all the rumors that Chan and you were not dating, calming the waters of both fandoms. Even BTS' jimin was bothering him with dozens of questions on his IG dm to find out more about the rumors.

You in the other hand, you opened your eyes in terror after hearing the loud voice. Analyzing the words you just heard.

Wait, what?

echo > next

[snaitf]

Hi. My brother sexually abused me growing up. My mom figured out when I was in third grade.

I was a terminally honest kid, but X had said to keep it a secret. I'm 33 now.

Maybe 5 years ago, I was talking to my cousin. Normal complaints about parenthood. She's aggravated that her daughter seems to lose her socks and underwear every time she visits her dad's house. It sends me in a tailspin. I tell her that hey, maybe ask your daughter a couple questions cause uh. That's how my mom realized something was going on.

"Something was going on with what?"

"Uh. With me and X?"

She didn't know. She'd never known.

I'm in. Fuck. 5th grade? At my friend/ neighbor's house. Her baby sister is showing me a game her friend showed her. It involves throwing a blanket over both our heads. I freak out. Tell her mom. Have NO IDEA, in 5th grade, how to phrase "talk to your daughter about her friend and sexual abuse, cause why is there a game involving us under a blanket?"

First or second year of my first job. I'm rambling in the car on the way to or from lunch. Normal day. I say something about X and the situation. My boss cried. CRIED. What??

I have 3 brothers. The oldest one sexually abused me. I found out literally tonight that my youngest brother never knew. My uncle never knew. I find this out because I fucking told them about it. Me and my uncle were complaining about X and how he can never seem to get his fucking shit together. My youngest brother is 2 years older than me. We were living in the same goddamm house. In third grade, I was being pulled out of school weekly to go to therapy. I'd had to be interviewed by CPS and the police.

I'm in high school. I broach the subject with my mom, about. I don't know. I'm ready to tell people? She tells me, to my face, that my grandma will die not knowing what X did.

My grandma died 5 years ago. As far as I know, my mom got her wish. Grandma didn't know. Fuck, I'm a little glad. I don't fucking know how to broach that subject about her grandkids.

(Doesn't seem to stop me from being the ONLY ONE broaching that fucking subject, but hey).

So. Hi. I exist. I was sexually abused by my older brother, up until I was in third grade. And I'm getting real fucking tired of realizing people don't know that while I'm mid-sentence.

I'm so goddamn tired. Of saying to myself "well, nothing *happened* happened, he just took my clothes off and we laid in bed together. It could've been worse."

I'm so goddamn tired of thinking "my parents responded as best they could." My own brother didn't know. My family doesn't know.

X's shit is in the back of my car. He went to jail (again) and someone needed to hold onto it til he got out. Why am I doing this?

I dunno. Hi. I exist. I feel like I need to scream that.

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (52)

part 52 of 55 | 1894 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

It’s been three days since Steve told Robin about the blackmail, and Eddie is a goddamn wreck. 

This is a mean place to leave off, but the next chapter goes up on Monday. In the meantime, enjoy your Friday the 13th. ❤️

52.

It’s been three days since Steve told Robin about the blackmail, and Eddie is a goddamn wreck. 

Spring Break had left him with plenty of physical damage—scars that start on his left cheek and continue down to his thighs, deepest near his middle where he’d almost been eviscerated, and on bad days he still has a trace of a limp. 

There’s non-physical stuff too. Nightmares. He now has first hand experience with going to war against and being eaten alive by literal monsters, after all. And there’s Chrissy. . . . Always Chrissy. Those few but terrifying days had shattered his long-held beliefs in the difference between real life and fiction without any pause to let him pick up the pieces. What a mindfuck.

He still has nightmares, even with Steve in bed beside him; they both do. The comedown is easier together than alone, but it still happens. What surprises Eddie, though, is that his are about familiar things made horrifyingly unfamiliar. Running from the cops or angry jocks, for example, now supercharged with the cops pumping him full of lead and the jocks pummeling him to death, or coming at him with knives and stabbing out his entrails. Yeah, the bats and the blood and the fucking vines everywhere are in the mix too, but they’re horror movie props. They’re the spectators, the window dressing, even though every bullet or blow or knife feels like it has teeth.

Everything from Spring Break happened so fast, is the thing—even though the essence of it all is seared into his brain, his dreams never get the details quite right. All that Upside Down shit feels less real in the light of day, and like maybe he went crazy and imagined all of it. Sometimes the only way to make sure is to ask Steve, or Dustin, or any of his new monster hunting friends.

Worst by far, somehow, are the nightmares where those friends, the only people in this shitty town who had been right there in the trenches with him when public opinion screamed for his head on a pike, just . . . lose interest in him. Where they lose touch, slip through his fingers, and all he’s got to show from knowing them is a mangled torso and a tendency to jump at shadows. 

Lately, he’s been dreaming that Robin, the first fellow queer friend he’d knowingly made in this hellhole town, is the first to turn away from him, and he can’t even blame her.

“She’s making me sweat it out on purpose,” he groans, face-down on the floor in Jeff’s temporary room at his aunt’s house. It smells like dust and old cigarettes down there, but he figures it’s what he deserves. 

“Dude, you blackmailed her best friend,” Jeff points out. Unhelpfully, in Eddie’s opinion. “Not very well, but still. If someone pulled that shit on you I’d be out there slashing tires and egging their house.”

“You’re such a comfort,” Eddie mutters into the carpet. “I’m so glad I come to you with my problems.”

He can practically hear Jeff rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I am. She might be messing with you, but at least she’s not fucking with any of your shit. I know you consider the silent treatment to be the most hideous form of torture—”

Face still hidden, Eddie winces. Because Jeff’s not wrong, but Steve and Robin have been actually tortured for information by evil Russians and he’s a total wimp in comparison. 

“—But it could be a lot worse.”

It could be. He knows that. And Steve keeps assuring him that everything’s fine, that he talked it out with Robin and she’s calmed down by now. Eddie nods along but keeps gnawing his nails down to the quick anyway, because that’s with Steve. She’s fine with Steve, calm with Steve, and still her schedule has casually omitted running into Eddie in any way. As far as he’s concerned speaks for itself.

And it doesn’t help when he tells Jeff about telling Steve about telling Jeff—which, okay, fine, it sounds stupid when put like that—his best friend had rolled his eyes and said, “Really Ed? You only just now thought to mention it?”

One more thing for Robin to rip his head off over. And Steve probably won’t pick him over her, which makes Eddie want to crumble to dust. 

Well. He doesn’t think Steve should pick him over Robin. The actual ‘he picks me, he picks me not’ shit is something his guesses seesaw back and forth on all the time. 

The world hadn't stopped for the apocalypse, let alone Eddie nearly dying or Eddie freaking out. Thatcher Tire doesn’t want him back after the murder charges and the government payout won’t last forever, so he’s spent the entire day going from storefront to storefront in what passes for downtown Hawkins.

He knows that Steve is working at Family Video today, because he’d pried himself out of bed and Eddie’s starfish grip that morning for that very reason. He also knows that Robin isn’t on the schedule today, because he’s thought to ask before dozing back off for a few hours. So he feels no hesitation before sailing into the video rental store from the deserted parking lot and announcing with a flourish, “You are looking at Melvald’s newest stock boy, courtesy of one benevolent Joyce Byers!”

It comes out as a weird mix of triumphant and resigned, falling flat in the still air of Family Video. Because yeah, he has a job, but it came at the heels of a series of rejections and feels like a pity offer. Does it count as nepotism if it comes from the matriarch of their weird little unofficial monster-hunting family?

When his declaration goes unanswered, Eddie takes a moment to really take in his surroundings. He’d expected no one else to be in the store, and there isn’t; but it isn’t Steve behind the counter.

It’s Robin. 

The door has already closed behind him, cutting off the easiest escape route. He could open it again, but that would be going out of his way to run from danger, something he’s promised himself he won’t do anymore. And . . . Steve had sworn up and down to him that everything’s fine. 

The deliberately blank look on Robin’s face suggests that Steve was incorrect.

Eddie moves forward by sheer force of momentum, jamming his hands in his jeans pockets and clearing his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello,” Robin replies, in a tone that implies that the rest of that sentence is ‘and welcome to Family Video, where the theater comes to your living room,’** or whatever corporate bullshit she and Steve might technically be required to say but never actually do. Eddie’s heard her customer service voice before, but never directed at him. He almost trips over his own feet hearing it now. 

“So. . . .” Eddie usually prides himself on knowing what to say, or at least being able to vamp for time and posture a lot until he figures it out. To have it happen with someone he knows well is absolutely excruciating. 

A tiny part of him worries that Steve had set him up for this, faked having work today or something to force this meeting and get it over with. But Steve wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“Is Steve around?” he asks finally, aware that the silence has been dragging and Robin, unusually, is making no attempt to put it out of its misery.

She narrows her eyes and jerks a thumb over one shoulder towards the door marked Employees Only. 

So, okay, Steve is probably on break and Eddie had just misremembered Robin’s schedule. That’s fine. That’s something, anyway. He can work with something. 

With a vague salute that he hopes to god comes across as inoffensive and casual, Eddie beelines for the break room. He’ll feel a little better with Steve at his back, or at least after he gets a chance to hiss “I told you so” and work some of the panicking out of his system.

The break room, however, is empty save for a flimsy card table, some shitty folding chairs, and a couch that's definitely seen better days. Eddie looks around, dumbfounded, and even ducks into the adjoining manager’s office to double check that Steve isn’t holed up in there for some reason. He hears the break room door swing open and shut again and darts out hopefully, but—

It’s Robin again. “Steve felt a migraine coming on a couple hours into his shift and called me to fill in for him,” she announces. “I just flipped the sign to closed. We, Eddie Munson, are going to have a talk.”

-

** I read the "Welcome to Family Video, where the theater comes tyo your living room" line in Cut and Changed and Rearranged by AidaRonan and could not get it out of my head, so it crept in here. And then I had to dig around until I found the fic it was from, because my memory for titles is like Swiss cheese. Anyway, great fic, highly recommend!

[drowninginblox]

Torched

Part 2

Part of him hoped that the last few days were a dream, that at any moment he'll wake up in that damn chair or even from his corner in the basement of the shit shack. But the bread in his pocket served as a guarantee that's not gonna happen anytime soon. Combined with the lakes of sweat keeping him awake in this living nightmare, Fit can only pace in frustration. “If you want, I can give you some time to ponder this. Although I am an immortal being, the concept of thinking on such large decisions is one I'm not lost on.” Fit sighed. Will you be gone? He didn’t mean to sound as harsh or vulnerable as he did, but it felt wrong for him to be guarded in his own mind. It was probably the emotional exhaustion getting to him. “I won’t be far warrior. Just call for me and I will come.” A moment passes before a shiver runs up Fit’s spine. A body-wide shake follows. And then silence.

So soft. The infamous FitMC has gone so, so soft. A lump in his throat closes his throat. He takes a breath and lets his shoulders roll. The muted pop and click of bones act as a good grounder in this otherwise devastating scene. Remember yourself. What did you do back then? His eyes close. For a moment, the humidity mutes. The cold air subsides. And rather than the stale air he’s been breathing in for a year, the smell of gunpowder and the taste of flesh linger on his tongue while a younger, lost soul, takes a daring step into the unknown.

Explosions, first vibrant in sound as they were in action, slowly mute as the souls of Fit's feet felt the ware of running for hours on end. From what, he didn't know. Anything though. There was always a reason to keep moving in the wastes, whether it be from the monsters that came out in the night or the people that just so happened to spot you out of your periphery. It's always something. Rest was a pipe dream. Always brief when there was some time for it, but it was always greeted with another reason to get off your ass. The howls in the night, the crunch of the ground sounding too close for comfort, the sizzle of TNT, or an offshoot explosion on the horizon. Sometimes you wouldn't know what's outside the cave until the preditor makes itself known. If you're lucky, you could see the obsidian being placed before the end crystal. You barely have enough time to block yourself up or dig away, but a chance is always worth fighting for. That's something he can't live without; chances.

Fit' likes to think he's grown since his time away but there's only so much calculation you can do before something makes itself known. It's ugly. Messy too if shit really hits the fan. Maybe that's why Fit was a janitor. When shit gets messy, someone has to note and take care of the problem. Speaking of- Maybe it was a few minutes? Could’ve been a few hours. Either way, his arm weighed heavier on his shoulder. A scowl was the only thing to meet him as he blinked away the aches. "What would Pac do?"

The words tumbled onto the cavern, making Fit's stomach twist at the cruel reminder. He could've sworn the weight in his chest didn't weigh this heavy. Last time it felt like a baseball. Now it's gotta be a bomb. I never asked for this, He screws his eyes shut. I know I agreed to this. I know I can't back out even if I wanted to, but- He couldn't help but choke out a chuckle. "Am I selfish by patching myself up with the people I care about?" He blinks a few times at the haziness only to feel the wetness of tears. "Fuck, really?" A groan rises from his stomach, intermixed with venom and the heat of untapped rage. An animal clawing at its cage to be released, the keeper, tired of the constant severance relinquished the beast of its cage, gilded with the pretenses of civility for station's sake. For everyone's sake. The noise progresses into a scream. One that even Fit could hear. Guttural and raw and for every sake of the word, it wasn't just the beast that was freed from captivity, it was the whole goddamn zoo.

The emotions can't take him away again. Not further than this. The stampede can kick his damn ass he will remain. Securing himself in a ball, that was all he can do against the impending release. Months of not knowing whether or not his friends and family were truly safe, years of stress built up and hardened only to be broken by people who thought they knew better than him how to live his life, days where the terrors crawled up his back to the point of mind-numbing exhaustion. All that was left of him ran away or dried up after the flood.

This was a long time coming. "For such a prolific warrior amongst your kind, you are very weak." A scratch of a cough was all Fit could do as a rebuttal. Does it look like I give a fuck right now? A warm laugh resembling the cackle of a campfire. For some reason, fit could feel the warmth of it. If the damp and cold of this cave was December in Alaska, then this feeling is the inside of a cabin. Right beside the fireplace. He almost smiles. Are you here to taunt me? "Oh no. I'm just here to make sure you're okay, warrior." Fit forces himself to stand. He wobbles slightly on the way up but he manages to steady himself with a deep breath. I don't think I deserve to be called that. It shouldn't have surprised him that the sun was gone. The night should follow the day after all. What was a surprise though was the lack of a moon to light up the sky. Things were illuminated as if there was one. And yet, there is none. Of course. "Oh?" Nonetheless, he eyes up the wall. "So tell me then, FitMC, the so-called legend of 2B2T, what are you?" Fit sighs. The scarf's coming off. "What I am is tired la-" he coughs out, swishing some saliva around to get the horseness out of his throat. "Emperess. My bad, It's Emperess right?" All the while wrapping the scarf around his only human hand. "This is gonna do a number..."

A hum mimicking shock meets him. "I'm impressed, here I thought respect was foreign to you. It appears the brute can show some." "Hey now," he rubs his hands together. the grime from the cave will have to do. "I may be from hell, but that doesn't mean we don't know the concept of authority." Snuffing it out united us them. He hops in place for a minute. It's been more than a minute since he's done this. "Then you should learn this lesson quickly, I am more than above your station FitMC. I am millennia worth of energy and intellect and wisdom, collected all into a flame that grows and develops as time progresses. You are but a spark compared to me." He smirks. "Degradation isn't my thing you're majesty. Nice try though,"

Fit leaps, holding onto a sturdy ledge before securing his feet. "Know your place, little warrior." Ma'am, yes Ma'am! He mimics with a little salute. This is gonna be a long climb.

[bobasnonbeliever]

only posting this here because i dont think anyone will see it. i need to get this out

im so fucking tired of my life. im tired of caring, like, in general. as stupid as it sounds, i was watching kitchen nightmares, and gordon said something about a chef or an owner, i dont remember exactly, he said; "losing hope is a scary thing to do, when theres just no more light at the end of the tunnel, it takes you down dark paths." or something like that. and ive been suicidal/depressed since i was 9, but i thought to myself "im not hopeless, am i?". the more i thought about it, the worse i felt because, god no, im not hopeless. im helpless, or maybe i wallow too much in my own self pity. i dont know the difference. every goddamn day feels like another waking nightmare, im sick of living with my mom, im sick of her not letting me get a job. i dont want my name on the damn electric bill because shes over $1,000 in debt to the power company anymore. shes already ruining my credit, and i dont even have a damn job! not to mention her fucking kid, her 5yo fucking kid, im taking care of. the product of the man who beat me over and over again, threatened to kill me, and then he took a greyhound bus out of our lives. why didnt she protect me? he never once hit her, or anyone else, why didnt mom help me? i was only 13 when he first pulled me by my hair and slammed me into the stairs because i let moms ice cream tub melt on the kitchen table for half an hour. it took him till my brother was 3 to leave. she valued him over me, and even now. im always taking care of my brother, even when he screams at me, cusses at me, throws things at me, spits on me, hits me, kicks me, claws me, bites me, and more. you get the point. she never even tells him to stop, she doesnt have to scream, or hurt him, or anything. just please, please tell them to stop hurting me. i still take care of him. i take care of him when she takes 20 fucking benadryl and passes out for the full time shes at home between shifts. i sacrificed my education to "help her" take care of him. and she gets mad at me when i parent him, when i tell him off, or even more mad when i have to cry and beg him to stop hurting me. she says "youre 22 years old, get a grip" when im covered in bruises from the 5 year old "hes five!" she will scream when i tell her he hurts me. "he is five, hes supposed to listen to you" i said once, and she just stared at me. im always fucking things up, she never fails to let me know, when she looks at me like that i know its my fault. i cant even begin on my relationship, i shouldnt, he might see this. i just want to give up, im so tired of caring, i want to let it all go. my dog died, i ruined him too, i couldnt take him to the vet i couldnt help him. hes gone because i failed. my baby, im not saying that in the cringy melinial way, he saved me from suicide. so many times, it was "hell be so confused why im gone..", "hes gonna miss me", "whos gonna take care of him?" but now hes gone and im still here. my baby, is gone and im so selfishly still here. why wouldnt she let me get a job? i couldve taken him, i couldve at least got him put down so he didnt have to suffer in his favourite spot on my bed till his kidneys put him down for us. if i didnt know, my boyfriend would kill himself too when he comes home from classes tomorrow, and i was dead, i would take the entire 160 count bottle of benadryl i stole from moms room. i want to see my baby, he never ever missed on helping me, i owe him my life and couldnt even give him that when he passed. but not for lack of trying.

but even so, i dont feel hopeless. maybe only yearning, but it feels enough like hope. when i use my right hand to stroke my left cheek and neck, it almost feels like someone else. i get a glimmer of a thought, "one day, i wont have to beg to be taken care of. someone will do it because they want to.", but still, it hurts worse. i dont know how i can possibly derive so much gut wrenching pain from that little bit of hope, but i do. and still, i cant help myself, i cant blame anyone else. i can only hope someone will come save me. if i could handle this all on my own, i wouldnt be here typing this.

i want to decompose.

writing this after that monster of a textblock in the tags, but if you were wondering. im not exaggerating about the mess, and i wouldnt normally judge. because i have had worse bedrooms, mental illness is a bitch. but its in the common area, and she absolutely does make the 5yo live in it. she moved out to the living room after their room was too trashed for her to even walk in, so she toated her 50" fucking tv right out there and hasnt moved, accept to go to work, since. everyone pray or cross your fingers or send me some good energy to hope she gets sliced into a million pieces at work instead of accidentally oding on bennies so i can raise my brother with her life insurance money.

[reilleclan-blog]

This world has seriously lost the plot, I am so tired so tired of constantly waking up. This system is collapsing all this news shit is just a compilation of capitalism failing . And I'm so fucking tired of this shit I'm so fucking anxious about every goddamn thing . I hate work no REAL HUMAN BEING SHOULD BE WORKING 40hrs A WEEK . THIS WORLD HAS TAKEN SO MANY THINGS AND JUST REARRANGED THEM INTO DIFFERENT SHIT. SLAVERY IS PRISON SYSTEMS, HAVING A DAMN JOB IS SLAVERY BY CHOICE, ITS ALL BULLSHIT. I'm so angry and sad I'm so sad dude. This world is coming to an end , I wake up everyday like I'm waiting for the sky to fall like I'm chicken little. I remember as a kid I was being abused most of my school years grammar and highschool, and our neighbors would probably hear all of that shit for years and years. But when I'd get off the bus I'd walk past them with my headphones on and I didn't know they were talking to me I didn't hear them or was paying attention and a lot of them took such offense too that. Me a kid being hated on by adults and others because I didn't speak to them , even though everyday of my life I was being beat and verbally abused. But neighbors are worried about me thinking I'm "better than them". And b/c of this my mom got into a very heated argument with them over it, I just remember crying my eyes out b/c I just never understood why ppl hate me for the weirdest shit. Even when I thought I didn't do anything wrong I was always hated. This was my life for years still is my life, on top of still living with my abuser been abused by a lot of my family ppl I thought were supposed to protect me, this is all. My point is ppl only give a fuck about "appearances" nobody gave a fuck about me getting screamed at or me screaming my heart out b/c of how much pain I was dealing with ON MY OWN, but yeah dude call me out for not saying HELLO TO U. This world is just so sick this place makes me physically ill idk how im still going idk how im still trying to hold on to some slither of hope when most of my life I've never felt significant to anyone except my dog.

Black men police black women like police officers police black men, everyone wants some sort of power of control some power of worth. That's why so many ppl are misguided or pointing fingers at everyone else but the damn white supremacists, just conduct us to hate one another and it's that simple. The amount of times a black man felt entitled to me saying hello to them is fucking insane, if I don't say hello I'm likely dead , if I do say hello I'm likely dead, there's no winning in this situation. THERES BLACK WOMEN GOING MISSINF AND BEING KILLED EVERY SINGLE DAY BUT BLACK MEN ARE SO WORRIED ABOUT A FUCKING HELLO??? maybe protect and nurture black women and maybeee more of us would feel safe around yall . I don't feel safe I don't speak I keep to myself and I'm still seen as "rude" "aggressive" "mean" . This place makes NO FUCKING SENSE DUDE IT DOESNT. Ppl are talking about this election left and right, tbh I really don't give a flying fuck about the election this entire system is corrupt , ppl just want Donald stupid ass out of the office b/c he managed to be a menace to even republicans lol it's fucking hilarious . I genuinely loathe this place I'm ready to leave I'm ready to go . Donald Trump is the true damn hokage shoulder all the hate lookin ass(this is a fucking joke)

I'm so fucking tired why have I been lucky still breathing , idkidkidk I can't imagine my future at all I can't see myself being happy I can't see nothing. I'm terrified of this place

ITS 60DEGREES IN FUCKING CHICAGO IN FUCKING OCTOBER WTF IS GOING ONNNNN

[kelloggsenthusiast]

If montell fish songs were angst stories: Talk 2 me

The heaviness in my chest grew progressively worse with every passing second. Sascha wasn't home yet, but he said he'd be here over two hours ago. I ran my hand over his pillow, longingly.

It was no secret that Sascha's and my relationship was not in a good place. We could barely sit together for an hour without fighting over something stupid, ranging from my insecurities to his jealousy and possessiveness. We couldn't agree on anything anymore, always having conflicting views and opinions and it was straining our relationship. It was so bad that we could go on for days without speaking to each other. In the four years we'd been together, this had never happened. Of course we fought like any normal couple, but it wasn't as bad as tonight.

He took me to the Opera for a show and we stayed for the subsequent cocktail party. It was at the party that someone approached us and asked to talk to him. I didn't mind, so I let her. It was only a few moments later that I realized that the person was his ex girlfriend. My head snapped in the direction of where they went and I curtly excused myself from the circle of people Sascha and I were talking to.

A dull ache developed in my chest with every step I took towards the corridor they ran off to. I found Alex and the girl- alone- and speaking in hushed tones. Her hands were on his chest and around his shoulders and his hands were idly at his sides.

Blinded by my anger, I fled from there. I heard Sascha call after me but i just kept moving. The lights were brighter, the sounds were louder and the pain was more intense. I felt like dying. I made my way out of the opera house and onto the pavement. I placed a hand over my chests the anger gave way to bone crushing pain. I heaved a sob before covering my mouth.

"Meine Liebe," I hear Sascha say as I feel his hands wrap around my shoulders.

I pull away and wipe my tears frantically, thanking God for waterproof makeup.

"I'm fine, in sorry," I say, my voice still thick with tears.

"You're not okay, Ma-"

"I said I'm fine. Let's go back. Rafa and the others will be looking for us," I say, getting ready to go back.

"For God's sake, Max, do something. React. Scream. Cry, anything. I'm tired of you being so goddamn passive!" He shouts. I turn to face him slowly, trying to control the simmering anger I feel.

"What exactly do you want me to do, Alex? How do you want me to react? For fucks sake, I'm tired, okay? There, I said it! I hate that your Goddamn ex is ruining everything we've built and I can't do anything because you're letting her-"

"Dont you fucking assume I'm cheating on you, Maxine."

"How am I not to assume, Alex? You said you broke up with her long ago but why is she here? What was she going to do to you? What were you about to let her do to you?"

" Fuck, Max, it's not even like that. Four years we've been together! You know me better than anyone else and you know I'd never do that to you. I'd never let it go there."

" Well, lately I don't know the man I've been laying next to at night."

"Thats rich, considering I've had to force you to open up to me."

I scoff and turn around, heading back to the party. I find Rafa and tell him I'm leaving. Alexander materializes besides me and his hand is on the small of my back. To them, we are a happy couple.

It cannot change.

The drive home is awkward and painfully silent. I run through the argument in my head and regret immediately seizes me. I want to apologize because, ultimately, I'm the one in the wrong. I never open up to him and tell him what's on my mind and in my heart.

He's frustrated, and rightfully so.

Back at our apartment, he changes into his tennis clothes, grabs his duffle bag and tells me he'll be home in an hour.

I roll over to his side of the bed and inhale. It's been a little over four hours since he left. My eyes fill with tears and I feel sincere remorse for how I've been treating him.

My own issues and insecurities shouldn't interfere with our relationship. I simply love him too much to lose him over something this trivial.

I pretended to be asleep while cuddling his pillow when he finally arrived minutes later. I heard him shower and move around the apartment before joining me in bed.

"I wish you could talk to me, like you used to. I love you, Max," he says before kissing my forehead and falling asleep besides me.

[winterbrrrd]

Thrift store angel

Thrift store angel in the aisle

Catches my wide eyes and smiles

Golden sweater, see-through dress

Reveals her breasts and navy thong.

I tell her that I’m lost and weary,

Never seeing myself clearly.

And she says that I will find me,

Just so long as I keep looking.

I will find where I belong

Among these words sung to myself,

A song I sing so loud and proudly,

But my audience

Is gone.

My thrift store angel floats away

I hear her say

She’s fine alone

Because she knows her fullest power,

Knows the glory of a poem,

Knows the magic

Of pulling up in a school bus

All barefooted,

Free, and braless,

Pit hair sprouting like alfalfa in someone’s wallpapered kitchen.

She is solid in herself,

Among her friends down in the valley

While I sit here shooting shame

In some corrupt, blackened back alley.

How I wish that she would take me in her school bus to the creek

So I could wash my feet beside her,

Eat the foraged foods she eats

But I am running from myself,

Driving five hours almost daily

To escape the pain of knowing

That my worth is for the taking,

For the taking as I’ve given it away

Like it was nothing,

A religious pamphlet stranded in a bathroom stall for bumping

Lines of coke

Three in a row,

Get this circus on the road,

The chimps are screaming in the train

Because my brain is overgrown.

She says she lives off-grid,

Outside of town,

No running water,

Homemade shower,

Chewing sap,

Forgetting time,

Forgetting power -

All the people who could hurt her

Never find her in the valley

By the creek in which she bathes

And by the trees she likely prays to,

Prays for solace from the men who mark the two of us like tallies

In a thrift store by the river

In the valley ‘neath the mountains

Where I hold her words

like newborns

On the day of

Nan’s finale.

We have fled domestic violence

And we’re talking about men

Who scream and cuss and hit

When they feel challenged or threatened.

We are sifting through discarded

Vintage sweaters and tossed junk

And we are holding big white pillars

With our hands

While you rise up

And take our places in the stars

And with the angel

That I gaze at

As she walks out the front door,

My eyes shiver with amazement.

And I’ll never see this angel

Once again in this short lifetime

But I’ll see her in the stars

Or at least among the lightning

Where we’ll cast down cold, cruel demons,

Like we’re Zeus pursuing heathens

And we’ll dance among the clouds,

Big greyscale beings giving me reasons

For this angel to live with me

Even though she lives in Marshall,

I will carry pieces with me

Like the bricks and concrete morsels

That I gather from the piles

Where old houses once stood proudly,

Bulldozed finally by a town

Prioritizing wealthy families.

I will keep her in my pocket,

Like the pocket of her sweater

Where she keeps her precious secrets,

Secrets that hold her together

Proud and stately like a statue,

Hanuman atop a mountain,

Warrior and sweet protector

Of the souls burst from the fountain

Fed by rivers of sweet time

That gets more sour by the hour

As the bodies start to writhe

Under the weight of what they’ve carried

Up the mountain

Only for the weight to fall.

I am jealous of this angel,

But trying not to be jealous.

Trying to respect her refuge

How she hid me in her trellis

With her purple morning glories

And her vivid, creeping stories

Of a town that once was wild

And is now so goddamn boring.

She is everything I wish for,

Every gift I’ve ever asked for,

Every quality I crave,

Every whisper from the mountains.

She is freedom at the cost

That freedom takes when it is taken.

She is working off the land,

Oh vicious USA forsaken.

She is tired but she’s settled

In her mind and in her spirit

And she knows that she is worthy

Of a man who always sees it

And who holds it like a bluebird

Not in clasped hands,

No they’re open,

So the little bird can breathe and

When she needs to,

Can leap forward,

And she’ll fly from up the mountain

Down into the lonely valley

And she’ll fly where she so pleases,

No apologies, just proudly.

She will fly back to his hands

When she is ready

And not sooner.

She will rest in his warm palms,

Embracing comfort that won’t call her

Just to laugh at spirit stories

Of the creek and of the mountains,

No he’ll see the beauty in her,

All the souls within her fountain.

And if he doesn’t see her,

She will leave him like this world

She left behind.

[roxanadiaz]

ℂ𝕒𝕥 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕖

𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝕴 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊

the sounds of a sea of screaming people calling your name, but you can't name one of them. bruised knees and bandaids are just a small part of the lessons learned. singing in the bathtub for the acoustics. thrifted betsy johnson dresses worn to big premieres. your messy room fully reflects your messy mind. where has your heart run off, now? trying to get people to see the real you, only to be perceived as cool. you hold grudges to the point your heart begs for you to stop and let it go. revenge is in your nature, much like asking for forgiveness. just try not to fall off stage, this time - please.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤

Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl by Olivia Rodrigo Roxana Diaz || " Laughed at the wrong time / Sat with the wrong guy / Searching 'how to start a conversation' on the website / Talked to this hot guy, swore I was his type / Guess that he's been making out with boys, like, all night / Everything I do is tragic "

Enchanted by Taylor Swift || " This night is sparkling, don't you let it go / I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home / ... Lingering question kept me up / 2AM, who do you love? / I wonder 'til I'm wide awake "

Not Another Rockstar by Maisie Peters || " Talk about me, but make it all about you / Caught you rippin' your jeans, and that's when I knew / You'd leave me dead if it set you apart / And I'm like, "Oh goddamn, not another rockstar" "

Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter || " I'll be honest, looking at you got me thinking nonsense / Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in / Think I got an ex, but I forgot him / And I can't find my chill, I must've lost it / I don't even know, I'm talking nonsense "

All American Bitch by Olivia Rodrigo Roxana Diaz || " Forgive and I forget / I know my age and I act like it / Got what you can't resist / I'm a perfect all-American bitch "

Too Well by Reneé Rapp || " It's easier holding a grudge / Rather be angry than crushed / I'm doing too much / I'm back where I started again / Crying and calling my friends / This shit never ends "

When Emma Falls in Love by Taylor Swift || " 'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down / Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town / And all the bad boys would be good boys / If they only had the chance to love her / And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her "

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹 𝕊𝕚𝕕𝕖 ( 𝘢 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 )

older by Sasha Alex Sloane || " The older I get, the more that I see / My parents aren't heroes / They're just like me "

Older Than I am by Lennon Stella || " My heart's seen things I wish it didn't / Somewhere I lost some of my innocence / And I miss it "

Baby, You're a Haunted House by Gerard Way || " And the nights, they last forever / And the days are always making you blue / In the dark we laugh together / Cause the misery's funny to you "

Mean Something by Lizzy McAlpine || " I saw your name on a street sign / In the middle of nowhere / And that has to mean something "

Suburbia by Troye Sivan || " Have you heard me on the radio? / Did you turn it up? / Are you blowing that stereo in suburbia? "

making the bed by Olivia Rodrigo Roxana Diaz || " Sometimes I feel like I don't wanna be where I am / Gettin' drunk at a club with my fair-weather friends / Push away all the people who know me the best / ... I'm so tired of bein' the girl that I am / Every good thing has turned into something I dread / And I'm playin' the victim so well in my head / But it's me whose been making the bed "

The Lucky One by Taylor Swift || " And they tell you that you're lucky, but you're so confused / 'Cause you don't feel pretty, you just feel used "

[overgrownmoon]

vent post

i’m not allowed to be angry.

how dare i complain. how dare i argue and bicker. how could i act so childish and irresponsible, pull yourself together and act right. dont cuss, don’t hit, don’t yell; stay good. be good. i have better things to worry about. your little brother is throwing a tantrum, i don’t need you throwing one too. you’re the eldest, you don’t need to be crying. behave. act right and don’t make a scene.

don’t be so down on the state of the world. don’t let it get to you. don’t focus on politics. don’t talk about things that upset you. focus on school, you don’t have time for that anger. you have no where to put it and nothing to do with it. you have everything you need, why are you complaining? why aren’t you happy yet? everything is gonna be ok, don’t be sad. don’t be upset.

nononono. no. no. i want to be angry. i want to scream and stomp and yell and cry and hit because i am so. angry at the world and all the horrible people in it and the horrible rules of society we came up with and everything that we do to eachother and the planet and i’m so so angry that i can’t do anything about it. i’m significant. i’m not a rich oil baron that can lobby the government, i j not an elected official, im not an influencer or speaker. i have no power. for every straw that i deny and plastic cup i recycle millions more are manufactured and dumped into the oceans. for every bill i oppose politicians sche on how to add more, do more, get wicked things to pass.

i’m tired and stressed and angry. i want to do something but i have no time, money, or energy to do it.

do i make an impact? do i matter? am i more than a cog in a machine, a number on a document? can i ever be more than a depressed white middle class asshole with a broken brain? who complains day in and day out how fucking depressed they are, oh how bo-hoo sad my life is oh ducking shut up asshole. i don’t know the meaning of suffering. oh lord your parents got divorced we get it and you lived in a nice house with toys and food and a good school and loving family and ooooohhh how hard your life must have been. how much you must have suffered while you went out with friends and had a good dad and a nice computer and good grades in school. what the fuck do i have to be upset about? ducking nothing i’m just a piece of shit loser with such a broken and failed fucking brain that i somehow convinced myself that i’m not a shitty awful person!

what point is there. nothing fucking matters. at the end of the day the fuckers in charge will get what they want while us plebeians get to wallow and suffer for our wages. we’ll beg and grovel at their feet for a luveable planet, drinkable water, a home to live in. so list and fucking doomed we are. i don’t want to participate in society. i do t want to do any of this. i didn’t want to be born. i wish i was never born. i don’t want to be here i don’t want to do any of this it all sucks and unfair and no one ever ducking asked me if i wanted to be here! i am forced into this goddamned nonsense world where profits are more important that morals and i’m sick of it! but the only other option is death and that’s looking like a pretty good option compared to what the fuck is gonna happen to us in the future!

fuck this. fuck everything. fuck your “have hopes” and “look at the bright sides” and whatever the fucking fuck. they won’t change the damn bed facts right in front of us. they won’t stop this fucking garbage fire from burning. i want to be angry. i want to so angry i can cave in concrete and shatter glass. i want to snarl and rip and tear and kill and maim and destroy eveything around me and then finally rip into my own chest and rip out my own heart so i never have to have it hurt from watching everything fucking collapse around me.

privileged fucking asshole. at a good college, don’t have to work, living with my parents. i still have the absolute audacity to be so bitchy and ungrateful. of fucking course. i fucking hate myself