#I can't tell what's worse the fear that someone will think it's terrible judge my inexperienced writin

[bluejay-in-write]

🌌

[essaytime]

i have been Summoned with warrior cats. for the uhhh character asks, maybe tawnypelt or leafpool whichever one you’d prefer (i haven’t read the books in a hot minute so,,)

(also yes i am Ash!!!)

To be honest, I also have not read it in a while:)

For Tawnypelt - I don't remember her that well and she was never a character I thought a lot about, but one similarity I can notice is that we both tend to not confide in people, though for different reasons. I'm much more extroverted, and actually I do wish I could tell someone about a great part of what concerns me, but what usually holds me back is the perspective of living with the consequences of telling that. Not that I fear they'd tell someone, they probably wouldn't, but just the silent judgement would be unbearable to me. With Tawnypelt, I feel it's just her personality that is more reserved - and maybe the effects of her childhood, which I can't relate to, as my (not yet finished) childhood is quite happy. Another thing - I like when everything is clear and in its place, it causes a great deal of stress and confusion for me when I'm not sure what happened/is happening, or what I'm supposed to do, which is less of a Tawnypelt reaction, she's more calm and collected, but she definitely likes order. I also often claim something hurts less than it actually does so as to not cause problems, like she did with the rat bite. However, she is much more straightforward, and assertive; I can be stubborn when I want to, but usually I crumble under the pressure of others at the end.

Leafpool is actually (along with Dovewing) one of the Warrior Cats characters I relate to a great deal. I am also compassionate and idealistic, which can lead to me worrying too much about other people or becoming very emotional and unhappy when my ideals are violated. She is also (which I appreciate, because it is a cause of great anxiety for me) quite similar to me in terms of how she deals with romantic love: she's so sympathetic towards Crowfeather, no matter what he does, but also so quick to judge him when he does something that bothers her. And the scene where she's helping Morningflower is basically a masterpiece. The awkwardness of that! The feeling of being judged! I feel that, Leafpool, I feel that. It will bring me great comfort and a sense of being understood in case I have to pass my crush in a doorway while carrying papers once again. She is lot more patient than me, though. I appear patient, but the truth is I am often angry and sometimes terribly angry, I just try to keep it bottled up. I fear what will happen if I snap one time. As a teenager, I can't really understand the motherly side of hers, so I won't speak about it, but I'm much worse with children. I also don't have such a great relationship with my sibling as she does, but I have a younger brother, so that is obvious. To be fair, I wouldn't want a twin sister. A sister - maybe, but younger. I know it might be a bit selfish, but I think I just need too much space and talking and thoughts for myself to constantly spend time with another girl my age. I needed to be the one person my age in the family.

[keefwho]

Insecurity

I have so many. I can never stop thinking about them it seems, it drives a lot of my behavior. And all I ever want is to know that people important to me aren't judging me for what I'm dealing with right now. But how can I even known that when I don't accept what I'm working through? I tend to think I'm a terrible person, like I'm some kind of villain for these struggles of mine. Because I've hurt others with them, and I think I still do. And I hurt myself too.

Reassurance I need it, so much. My entire being rests on that sweet approval of loved ones. But it's never enough and it leads me to act out of selfishness. I'm always seeking the ways people do/do not approve of me, even when things aren't about me. Im in a fearful cycle of need.

Attachment I get attached so easily, I'm attached right now. I want to say I get it, the events of my past explain how I'm prone to such behavior. Attachment can also be an attempt to express love which is something we all need. It sort of looks like love at first and feels pretty good but it's built on a need to possess. It's clingy and fearful. And whats worse is that it sets my standards really high for the person I'm attached to. If they aren't reciprocating my attachment, I think they must hate me and I become heartbroken. But the attachment keeps me here coping and forming delusions that they are actually attached too. But eventually the illusion is shattered again. Over and over.

Jealousy I've always been a jealous person. I think it stems from that need for approval. In a sense I view someone spending time with someone else as disapproval of me. Somehow I've made an event that has nothing to do with me ALL about me. The thing is, do I think it's wrong when I'm trying to spend time with someone else? No, I don't. Because I know where my heart belongs, I've not forgotten about anyone else. I'm not trying to get away from them. So why do I think that when others aren't spending time with me? Because I'm insecure about myself. I think I'm not good enough to be loved by them in the first place. I hinge all my self worth on their opinion. I'm attached and I want to possess them. It's disgusting. This isn't real connection at all, this destroys it.

Life Meaning I have very little. Its scary to admit but I only feel 1 source of real meaning right now and it revolves around 1 person. Its great that it exists but it's not great that it's basically my only source right now. I'm trying desperately hard to find what I value elsewhere but it's a hard road. And I'm stifled by self opinion telling me I don't deserve to be fulfilled or to be valuable. I don't think I'm worthy of anything

Back to the beginning. I'm in a place where I really want to get all of this out to the people around me, especially who it directly effects. I want the reassurance that I won't be judged for all these things I'm trying to work on. But I can't even get that unless I stop judging myself first. I don't want to keep hiding this but I cannot bring it to others without coming to terms with it myself. I wouldn't judge others about this kind of thing so why do I do it to myself?

[george228732]

Fylass, upon hearing those statements coming from Arthur, felt a gut wrenching feeling on their stomach, and it was quite palpable on the air - even the knight could feel how the air of the house became... heavy.

Nonetheless, Fylass had to continue with the talking...

''...It does give me some solace, yes, but at this point, I think it's all too late for me to feel any sort of closure, sadly enough. At least I am glad that in your case, those actions weren't as bad as the ones coming from me. It's balance.'' Those words would sound pretentious at best coming from a kid, but it was clear on their tone that the kid felt some genuine sorrow. ''But besides that, that wasn't the reason on why you came here, and we both know it. I am supposed to tell the full story, or at least, a bit of the full story, since even now, some things are still confusing to me - what I said about the Master Crown was just to get to a starting point. I am not a good person, so even if I wanted that comfort coming from that reassurance that things are okay, I know I can't bring myself to feel like I deserve any redemption nor solace, especially coming from someone like you, Sir Arthur.''

The paused their breath again, and after some deep breathing (ironically enough), they kept going.

''...So, where I left off...''

''I wasn't treated like a person, per se, and more like a construct, not having a mouth to speak up, eyes to judge, nor ears to witness, and as such, I was only capable of being scorned, judged and treated like a toy for people to play around with until it wears off and loses its purpose. I was a scapegoat and a martyr, which didn't have any other purpose than to serve others, and it got so bad that I couldn't even get to sleep in peace, have belongings, and not even eat properly... Nonetheless... At this point I would've prefered that than any other thing I could do, since apparently, every action I commited ended up causing more harm in their eyes, and they needed to cleanse off their sins somehow, and there I was.''

''...I didn't have much to live for, or rather, no one wanted me to actually live, since I was just going to die anyways when the Coronation Day happened, but I quickly got accustomed of wanting to cause some justice of my own, since I was the only one treated like this.''

''...I didn't act on those feelings, though, until I heard some news that broke me to the core. Just how bad things could be for everyone else excluding me if it all kept going. I heard that with the power I could have, they could be able to capture some people that would be considered divinities, out of... fear, I guess... Maybe that's why they sealed Mr. Galacta... But I digress. It all kept being worse however... Entire species dissapearing, life ending threats which could be risen again with the Ancients' input, by accident or on purpose, and even a terrible... mercenary? killer? criminal? In planets like the now abandoned Shiver Star. I just couldn't bear how everything could go to waste for everyone, or maybe it was just for some revenge to someone as disposable as I am, so...

I destroyed that clan.''

Sir Arthur set foot into Planet Popstar, and eventually, he found the location where this Fylass was located. A nearby farm set in Cookie Country; something felt a little bit odd though, everyone said that there's only one person living there, being a chimerical kid.

How would a kid live on their own in a farm? Were they accostumed to that, perhaps?

Arthur came closer and looked at the closest window, revealing a house that looked like it came from the 70's; it have an aura of nostalgia to the location. Nonetheless, Arthur knocked down on the door, waiting for an answer.

''Oh! ...I...I am coming!''

A childish voice was heard from the other side; it felt like it was faintly put through reverb; it was almost unnoticeable, but even then, the voice itself felt odd.

The door opened, revealing a bluebird similar like Dedede, although, they had bat wings, tail, and quite odd eyes.

''...Oh! Sir Arthur... Nice to see you have read that letter... That's why you're here, right?''

...

This wasn't really how Arthur would've imagined a survivor Ancient to look like.

Sir Arthur never would have imagined someone who seemed so young to be a surviving ancient, yet their chimerical appearance caused him a sense of anxiety he had not experienced in a long time.

There was a chance that Fylass had been one of those created by the ancients of the planet now known as Shiver Star, Sir Arthur's homeland. He had seen countless chimeras back in the Golden Age, many of which knew of him and what kind of person he was. Someone he had to make sure nobody would ever recognise him as again.

However this wasn't about him. This kid supposedly did something so terrible they needed to atone for their sins, much akin to Sir Arthur himself all those years ago. The galaxy soldier took a deep breath before the door opened. He had to make sure he would not end up incriminating himself by being visibly nervous. Sir Arthur had done so much to seek redemption for his dreadful past, he couldn't let his reputation decline once again.

“Exactly. We are very curious about your story, Fylass and grateful that you have taken the initiative to contact us first. Given the serious subject matter I decided to hear you out personally. I hope that doesn't come off as too intimidating. Be assured that we will not seek to harm you for your past actions as long as you are peaceful today.”

The matterborn's demeanour seemed friendly. Sir Arthut put a lot of care into maintaining a clean image. While he always had his critics regardless, none were aware of the sinister reason as to why he was leaning so hard into his honourable knight persona.

“Someone who has lived through the ancient days and lived to tell the tale, that is something worth investigating with the utmost attention, as you must be aware of yourself.”

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: Molly thinks that Bill’s and the reader relationship is a mistake so she wants them apart from each other. Bill’s against his mother wishes and he find a way to drag the reader into the Weasley family officialy

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi! Part 4 of this thing lol. I’m so happy that you guys like this story. It’ll have like 20 chapters or so, i’m still deciding that so yeah, that’s pretty much the thing. Btw, from now on chapters will be more interestings... i hope so lol. Again, english not my mother language. Please let me know if something’s wrong. Aaaaaand if you want to be tagged in the next chapters tell me and i will add you! Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Arguments

The rest of the afternoon passed as normal as the days before your arrival. Arthur Weasley made sure of it. Even if Molly attacked you with her dagger gaze when you and Bill hugged each other after you were done with dessert.

You didn’t know what Mr. Weasley had talked about with his wife while you were taking a shower, however, you noticed the tension rising from their bodies after you sat down at the table next to Bill and saw an annoyance sign on Molly’s lips. Her temple was frowned, reminding you of your own mother's gestures. Those flaming eyes, cleft chin, and pinion lips. Both women contract their features too much when they were upset and in your distress, you knew that they must not be disturbed.

The last thing you wanted was to hurt a marriage as solid as the Weasley's. More than once you heard your mother talk about it with your nanny making a powerful emphasis on how Molly and Arthur were able to carry out their marriage even if their economic conditions were precarious and the war was on their heels. They were an envied couple. Few dared to expand the family as much as they did without money in their pockets and spreading their progeny like a plague. No one was surprised, not even your mother, not when her marriage to Evan Grant was merely for financial advantage. Now Arthur and Molly looked upset, too upset for your understanding and you just hoped they could get along soon.

You weren't sure you deserved the sacrifice Bill's father had made for you, yet a flame of hope lit up in your chest. If Mr. Weasley started to trust you that was a good sign for others to do as well, right?

The afternoon continued as normal, seeing how Bill's plans to distract you from the fervent harassment of his mother was marred by the twins intervention. They had just finished a new product for their store and needed a good taster to certify the quality of their merchandise. It was a bad idea, he told himself, because twins were just a disaster and you didn't know them well enough to deny their good-natured pretensions.

"Be kind!" He yelled at them as Fred and George pulled you into their. Bill exhaled, pleading that his brothers wouldn't bother his girlfriend more than his mother already had.

Before taking you home, he thought about the pros and cons of your stay in the burrow. His conclusion was based on the fact that his entire family welcomed Harry Potter with open arms, so you didn't have to be the exception. He knew the difference in conditions in which his theory developed, yet he put his trust in the good judgment of his family even if the Grants' past left much to be desired. Bill didn't talk much about you with his mother, in fact, your presence at home was the last of his worries, the real problem came at the time of joining the Order of the Phoenix, would you be willing to fight against your relatives even if that mean betraying your own blood? Bill hope you will

Coming downstairs, Bill found his mother storing the leftover food in the fridge while the dishes soaked in the sink. Then he watched her clean each plate with her bare hands, no magic. William knew his anger was real.

"Want some help with that?"

"I'd love to, honey, thank you," his mother answered without looking at him. Bill raised the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, dipping his hands into the tide of water and bubbles that flew across the kitchen. Molly was silent, drying the dishes and flying them to her place in the display case across the kitchen. Bill cleared his throat doubtfully "It never hurts to help, much less when I have so many things to do before the rest of the Order arrive"

"Don't worry, I'll help you with that too."

"Perfect"

"Mom, can we talk?"

"About what?

"You know what," Bill clicked his tongue, passing her the last plate from the sink to continue with the spoons. "(Y/N)..."

"Your father has scolded me enough about that girl, I don't need you to do it too"

"I wouldn't if you had a little consideration with her."

"More consideration?" Molly asked in a squeak. Bill shook his head. "I'm letting her stay at my home!"

"Our home, mom, ours," he corrected, drying his hands with a cloth. "This house also belongs to my dad, my brothers, and me. It's the burrow, a family property, not a secret club where some people can get in and others cannot."

"You know what I think of her"

"And you know I don't care." Molly looked scandalized at her son. She didn't understand what he had seen in someone like you or what you had given him to come out and defend you as he did "I don't ask you to love her, but at least you have to try...

"Have you ever wondered what will happen when she betrays us?"

"That's not gonna happen"

"You're very sure of that, William"

"I'm convinced, Mom. You don't know her like I do and, you know what? I see that wanting to talk to you was a mistake"

"Moody thinks like me," Molly stopped him when Bill was ready to go upstairs. The woman clung to the railing watching her son standing in the first step out of the kitchen "(Y/N) Grant is a danger to the Order"

"Really? Like Mundungus Fletcher? I beg your pardon, mom, but if there is anyone who represents a latent danger to the Order of the Phoenix, it's him and yet you have assigned him for the mission tonight"

Molly's lips parted and if it weren't for the fact that Bill knew her mother too well, he might think the woman was about to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum. Still, she clenched the bars tightly, her brow furrowed, and the redness on her cheeks washed over her forehead.

"William!" Don't talk to me like that!"

"I wouldn't if you had a little more respect for my girlfriend."

"Don't you understand? I care about you! For all of us!" She snarled angrily. "Having a Riddle in this house..."

"A Grant, mom, (Y/N) is a Grant and that's not the same." Bill descended his steps, approaching her mother, returning that angry look that she had inherited from him. It was a strange sensation. A dyad of emotions between joy and fear where the composed emotion was guilt. He had never exploded that way with his mother, but Molly hadn't behaved that way with anyone either "His grandfather is Lord Voldemort's half-brother and his brothers are all Death Eaters, what does it matter? (Y/N) is not. And when do we judge others by where they come from? If so, we could start with half of us. Being a Weasley is equivalent to being a blood traitor"

"William!"

Molly's face went from fury to shock to fury again. Bill's eyes were twinkling and Molly swore she had never seen any of her children this angry, or worse, this determined.

"What would you have done, Mom?" Bill questioned taking his mother by his arms in an attempt to make him feel her despair. Molly opened her eyes, scared. "When your family tell you not to accept dad? When your brothers object to your engagement, just 'cause the Weasleys have long been considered blood traitors?"

For the first time that day Molly's mind went blank, Bill guessed, rewinding the memories of how difficult it was for the Prewetts to accept the marriage. Bill pleaded silently, but pulled away from her when his mother gave no indication to be a little more respectful with you.

"We aren't like that. We don't separate people by where they come from, we hug them" Bill resumed his way towards the stairs, stopping a couple of steps up, turning to take a look at Molly's stunned figure "As you did with Hermione, Remus and Harry when you and Dad became his godparents after Sirius died. (Y/N) is no different"

"She will turn her back on us when the Order fight the Grants. That moment will come and you know it"

"Don't worry, i'll make sure that doesn't happen"

"She is not part of this family"

"That can be solved very easily," he said and the smile he wore gave her a terrible chill down her spine. "Because I'm going to ask her to be my wife."

Molly's gasp was the only thing Bill heard before climbing the stairs and heading to the twins' room. He always respected his mother a lot and even thinking of opposing to her wishes was inconceivable, but your well-being was something that was involved and Bill couldn't just let her mother control his life at her will. Maybe the mistake he made was not telling his parents the truth about you from the start or, in that case, mentioning that the woman he loved was the fucking niece of the strongest fucking dark wizard of all time.

Bill Weasley rubbed his face as he reached the twins' door. He no longer had to torment himself, it was done and the only thing pending at the moment was to get Harry out of his uncles' house, take him safely to the burrow and find the courage to do what he told his mother he would do.

Would you agree to marry him? He hoped so and if not, he wouldn't pressure you. You were young - even a little younger than him - and it would be understandable if you refused to tie your life to someone else's from one moment to the other. The war progressed every day and if you were going to do it, you would do it as soon as possible.

Loud laughings brought him out of his thoughts to observe you and his brothers sitting on the floor, right in the center of both beds, laughing at each other and touching your faces. From the doorway Bill can't see the full painted room, however George's face showed a rather abstract mural full of bright colors when he felt the presence of his older brother. Fred did the same showing his face in the same situation and then you turned to Bill, still laughing and your face smeared with paint. It seemed the twins had created a paint bomb in millimeter pills, that explode when you put a little bit of pressure. You tried to clean yourself with the sleeve of your sweater but you spread the paint even more. Fred and George laughed and so did Bill.

His heart swelled with love as he saw that at least someone in his family - besides him and his father - had hope in you. God, he may have even cried with happiness.

Bill never understood how a sunshine as beautiful as you was never accepted in your entire life.

Tags:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries

Thanks for the 100 followers!❤

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 11 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

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Nightmares and Promises

Your mind is a blur, as is the street ahead. The engine complains as you force the damn car to go faster and faster. You get the feeling that Billy never lived as far as he lives today. You're suffocating, the noises you heard through the phone playing back in your mind. Max's voice, weak and scared. Billy's screams, the curse words from Neil... What can you do? What could you possibly do to help?

“Damn it.” You hiss when you make a sharp turn left, hitting a mailbox. “C'mon.”

Every time Billy tells you about his father, about the rude words, the beating, the humiliation, you see the little boy in his eyes. Scared, sad, trapped inside a house where he was forced to live a nightmare. You see yourself too, despite being hit by your mother only once. You know how he felt, but it was much, much worse. And now, after he finally grew out of it, living his life, completely apart from such memories, his father comes back.

You know what you'll do. You'll beat the shit out of Neil, drag him out and tell him not to come back.

Your knuckles turn white on the steering wheel, and your heart beats like a drum in your years. When you finally reach his street, you push the car to the very limit, hitting the breaks when you're by his place. You forgot to put the seat belt on, and judging by how madly you were driving, it's a miracle you're still alive.

The moment you step out of the car, you hear it. The yells. Max is by the window, and her eyes go wide when she sees you. You're moving to the front door with your whole body burning with anger. When you grab the handle, you take the deepest breath you can before swinging the door open. The noise it makes hitting the wall brings a sudden silence, but on the moment you step in, an old man comes from the kitchen, followed by Billy. Max immediately comes to your side, and you can see that her face is covered in tears.

“Who the hell are you?” The man asks as Billy walks around him, hiding you behind his back.

“Leave her out of it,” Billy says, and you notice his muscles are all tense. “And get the hell out of my house.”

“Your house? You mean the house Susan gave you?” He roughly gestures around. “She pities you, Billy. She only allows you to live here because of Max. Or do you think she or anyone would move a finger for you? You're a disgrace, a boy who thinks he's a man who will never leave this screwed uptown, and you know why?” The man steps closer, face to face with Billy. “Because you're nothing. You have always been nothing, and you will always be.”

Neil's yells are deafening, and you can feel your heart breaking. He's wrong. He's so damn wrong. “Stop talking like you know him!” It's your time to yell, pushing Max further back and stepping aside to have a look at Neil's face. “Billy is ten times the man you'll ever be! And despite your attempts to break him, to destroy and drag him down to this dirty, filthy pit you live in, he's still here! He's still here and he overcame you and your shit.”

“Another of your sluts, Billy? Why am I not surprised?” Neil barks, a wicked smile on his lips. “You're just another plaything, don't you act like you're not.”

“Don't talk to her like that.” The tension suddenly explodes, and Billy moves forward, hitting a hard punch in Neil's face.

You're frozen again, noticing through the corner of your eyes that Max ran off to her room. Maybe you should follow her, search for a safe place from this chaos. Like you used to. When it got too much to handle, you used to lock yourself in your bedroom, both hands covering your ears, trying to block the shoutings that came through the door. And you're just about to move when you get a glimpse of Billy's face. The whole fight happening in front of you is too fast to follow. But in his eyes, as he hits his father and gets hit back, you see it. Fear. Desperation. Anger. Hate. A mix of countless feelings, some of them too deep to name.

You know you can't run. You won't run. You know you have to do something, anything.

And suddenly, Billy falls to the ground, his hand immediately coming to his face. Niel stands tall, feeling victorious. “You son of a bitch!” You burst out, not quite in control of your body anymore. You just move, blindly, towards Neil, aiming a punch on his already bleeding nose. But in a movement you can't follow, you see it coming, too fast for your mind to process, and he hits you hard with the back of his hand.

You're violently pushed to the side, like hit by a brick, your body collapsing to the floor and hitting the coffee table hard. Your head spins around and you feel tears involuntary rolling down from the pain. Your left cheek burns like it was set on fire, and a sting spreads through your skull. Your side hurts too, from where it connected to the table. When you look up, back at Neil, Billy isn't on the ground anymore.

“Don't you ever–” He hits Neil like a plane, pushing him so hard the hits the wall with a deafening sound.“–touch her.” A kick in his stomach, making his body jerk forward. “Don't you–”

He's cut short when Neil grabs his throat. “Let go of him!” You say, but you can't hear your voice. Neil changes side with Billy, pinning him against the wall.

“You never learn, do you, kid?” Neil mutters, his voice dark and wicked.

You have to do something. Anything. You're moving to get up when you see Max, in the hall, eyes fixed on Neil and her brother. She's holding a baseball bat so tightly that her hands are shaking.

That's it. In an adrenaline jolt, you jump to your feet, running over to Max, and taking the bat from her hands. “Go back to your room, Max,” you say, suddenly feeling overprotected of her. You see yourself in her right now, and you're doing for her what Diane did for you. Fixing the problem so she can have a happy, normal life away from evil people.

No time to think, no time to make a strategy. You just do what you want to. You want to hurt Neil, for everything you've heard about and for this. So you raise the bat and bring it down with all your strength, straight to his legs. It makes him lose his grip immediately, letting go of Billy and falling down with a guttural groan. But that wasn't enough, so you raise the bat again, bringing it down, over and over, aiming for his legs. The tears are clouding your sight, so you blink to push them away. The sounds the bat makes when it goes Neil makes you sick, but you don't care. He deserves it. You only stop when Billy gets on his knees, leaning over his father as he starts hitting him, over and over and over, turning Neil's face into a bloody mess.

“If you ever–” A hard, heavy punch. “–come back again–” Another one, right on his eye. “–I swear to God I'll kill you.”

“My whole family is made of lawyers so if you ever set foot in Hawkins again I'll get you a restraining of so many miles that you won't be able to come to Indiana again,” you yell, hitting him with the bat once more, right on his ribs, careful this time not to hit Billy.

He then stands up, grabbing his father by the collar of his shirt and dragging him towards the door, then across the porch, and through the sidewalk. You follow him, watching as Neil can't do anything but awkwardly crawl backwards. “Get the hell away.” Billy lets him fall, and you stand back a couple of feet, still holding the bat. Your eyes follow Neil's every move as he stumbles up, then into his car, trying and failing to clean the blood off his face with his hands. You're sure his nose is broken, it's turned into a weird shape, as probably is his leg. He doesn't look back when he speeds away, his car disappearing downstreet.

You don't know what the silence means. You see some neighbors peeking through the windows, eager to see what happened, but never to help. You need to take Billy away from their sight.

Carefully, you walk over him, his eyes fixed on where Neil's car went as if making sure he won't come back. “Billy,” you call, as softly as you can, letting the bat fall and touching his arm. “Come inside.”

When he looks down at you, it breaks your heart. The blood on his nose and lower lip is mixed with tears. Bitter, countless tears. “I hate him. I hate that son of a bitch.” He mumbles, his voice still heavy with anger.

“He's gone, Billy. He won't come back.” You wish you could promise that, but you're too scared. Your heartbeat is still insanely fast, and you feel a little numb as if it was just a terrible nightmare.

His eyes go wide suddenly, and his hand comes to your cheek. “You're bleeding.”

“Babe, listen.” You take his hand, placing a soft kiss on his fingers. “I'm alright. It's over now, come inside.”

“I'll kill him.” He starts moving towards his car, but you move faster, both hands on his chest, trying to make him stop.

“Billy, don't.”

“I'll kill him!” He shouts, making you jump.

“Billy, kiss me!” You raise your voice to match his. He stops abruptly, his eyes meeting yours. “You said you wouldn't kiss me until I asked for it. I'm asking now. Please, kiss me.” It's the only thing you could think about that would startle him enough to make him stop. But you want to kiss him, so bad, to hug and hold him until he's well again. Until Neil is nothing but a long gone memory. “Please, babe.”

Then it happens. Billy pulls you close, his arms around your waist as you tiptoe and let your lips finally meet his. And it's like everything fades away. It tastes like blood in the beginning, but as your lips start dancing together, at the same pace, the same need, his taste overcomes anything else. You wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer until there's no space between you. He holds on to you as if you're the only thing keeping him grounded, and it's a weird feeling to know that's probably true. But you can do this. You want to do this. If Billy wants you, you will be there for him, no matter what. You'll face his father a thousand times over. You'll overcome, together.

You break apart when it gets impossible to hold your breaths, but he doesn't let go. “Come inside, please,” you whisper, relieved when he nods.

You silently walk back in, and you close and lock the door. The living room is a mess and so is the kitchen. “I'll clean this.” He mumbles.

“No. We'll clean tomorrow. Come.” Taking his hand, you pull him to his bedroom, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Max stands by the door, tears still staining her face.

“Max, get me a damp towel,” you ask her and goes to Billy's bathroom.

“No, let me take care of you.”

“Billy–”

“(Y/N), please. It's enough that you got hurt because of me.”

“Don't you dare blame yourself, Billy.” You hold his hand, eyes locked on his blue ones. “I would face a hundred Neils for you. And I know you'd the same for me so don't do this. Don't blame yourself. I stepped in because I wanted to.” Max comes back with the towel and hands it over to you.

“Are you hurt, Max?” Billy asks, taking the towel from your hands. Max shakes her head no but doesn't move.

“Come here.” You open your arms and Max immediately comes, sitting beside you as you hug her. She hides her face on your neck, and you rub her back. “I'm sorry you had to see that, Max. I know how you feel.” You glance at Billy, a sad, devastated expression on his face. He treated Max like trash for many years, he told you, but now you see that he loves her as a sister. It warms your heart. “Honey, do you want to sleep here with Billy and I?” You decide to ask when she sobs.

“No, I'm ok.” She clears her throat and pulls away. “Are you going to sleep here?”

“Yes,” you assure her.

Max smiles a little and nods. “Thanks. I'll give you two some space.”

“If you feel bad, or anything, please come here, ok?” You smile when she nods, leaving the bedroom.

Then you turn to face Billy again, but his eyes are already on you. He brings the white towel to your cheek, and you flinch a little under his touch. “Sorry.” He mumbles. “Neil had a ring. It scratched your skin.”

“I know.” You simply say, frozen, unable to look away.

“There will be a bruise by tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I...” Everything slows down for a moment, and you wonder if you heard it right. The word you've been keeping a secret, the one you've been so scared to say. “What?” You whisper, your heartbeat drumming in your chest again. “A-are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.” He moves closer until his forehead is touching yours. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, I... I've been in love with you for a while, but I was scared to tell you.” Wrapping your arms around his neck you move to sit on his lap.

“Don't be."

You kiss him, slowly because of the wound on his lower lip. How could you wait so long to do this? You have no idea how the hell you managed to control yourself. The feeling of his soft lips are your favorite thing in the world, addictive, and you get a little mad that you have to break apart to breathe. “Be my girlfriend.” He says in a low voice.

“Yes.” You burst out with a giggle and a smile.

“Finally.” He says.

“Hey... (Y/N)? Your aunt is on the phone.” Max mumbles from the door frame.

“I'll be right back,” you tell Billy before standing up.

It takes a few minutes to explain to Diane what happened. She was pretty worried about how altered you were when you left. You apologize for scaring her, letting her know you're fine and that you'll stay here for the night.

Billy already washed the blood off his face when you're back in his room, lying on the bed. Smiling, you walk over him. “I'll make a question, but if you make fun of me, I'll give up the idea,” you say, trying to lighten up the mood a little.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Big spoon or little spoon?”

His lips break into a bright smile. “Big spoon, obviously.”

Rolling your eyes, you lay down, facing away from him. It takes half a second for Billy to move closer, an arm around your waist pulling you into his chest. It feels like heaven, to feel his breath on your neck. You lay your arm on top of his, holding his hand. Life is good now, here, in this small town. And you don't want this to end. You want it to be like this every day. “Billy... What are we going to do when summer is over?”

“Mmm...” He mumbles, tightening his grip a little. “Isn't it obvious? We'll wake up early on Mondays, drive to Indianapolis and spend the week there. Then drive here on Fridays.”

That was your plan, and you remember telling him a while ago. “It sounds like a rough routine,” you warn him.

“Why don't you... Why don't you come to live here?”

That makes you turn a little, just enough to look into his eyes. You know what it means, moving in with him. “Billy, I don't–”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He cuts you off. “I'm saying this because it makes sense. And it feels right.” He gives you a quick peck in the lips. “But I'll wait for you. It doesn't matter how long.”

“What if... What if I want to wait until the wedding night.” You speak low, afraid that the mention of it will frustrate him. Maybe you're stiff, but you don't have to change your point of view in things just because the rest of the world has.

“Then be it. As long as I have you by my side, I'm the happiest man alive.” Biting your lip to hold back a smile, you try to turn around to face him. “No, no.” He holds you, forcing you back into position. “Stay still, little spoon.”

“It was my idea,” you whine, but move back to where you were. “So... You want me to come and live here?”

“Yes. The house is mine, thanks to Susan, and since you're planning to live in Hawkins... It makes sense. Diane wouldn't have to keep driving to Indianapolis every day, and you'd save the money for the rent.”

“You mean moving here now? I thought it was supposed to be when summer ended.”

“I know, but I'd love to have you here all the time.”

“This is a big step, Billy. And I don't want you to get tired of me.” You can't help but give voice to your thoughts.

“I just said I love you, and I'm pretty sure you got that I implied I want to marry you one day so I can't believe you're saying I'll get tired of you.” He speaks fast, faking an annoyed tone.

“Oh my God, Billy. Fine. I'll come live with you. Are you happy now?” Your cheeks are burning at what he just said, and you're thankful that you're facing away. “But you'll have to come and tell Diane. And help me carry my stuff here.” Did you just say that? Did you just agree to move in with Billy? “You know this is crazy, right? We're dating for half an hour and I just agreed to move in with you.”

“I've been wanting to date you since the Monday when I first saw you.” He whispers on your ear.

“Well, you got me when you punched David. Then when you kissed me by the front door.” You knew something was off from that day on, but of course, you would never admit it back then.

“I knew it. You got all nervous and as red as a tomato.”

“It was dark, Billy. How could you possibly know I was red?” You let out a humorless laugh.

“Well, you did try to open the door several times before noticing it was locked.” He lowers his voice, pulling your hair away so your ear and neck as exposed. “Weren't you? All nervous because of me?”

“Stop it!” You lightly elbow him in the ribs. “Let's get some sleep. We'll talk to Diane tomorrow before going to work.”

“As you wish, princess. I guess I can call you princess now, right?”

“Uhum,” you mumble, thankful that he can't see the smile coming to your lips.

×

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @tilesandtokens @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @dontxfearxthereaper @halloweenbitch2764 @redlovett

[kusagrasskusa]

Yandere Simulator Delinquents.

They're basically copy and paste. Sooo here's my version of them for future reference! I got too excited writing the last one lol- It's been a while since I've been to inspired to write. This is a nice feeling uvu

Umeji Kizuguchi - Yellow guy

He has blonde, previously pink, hair and golden eyes. He wears a yellow shirt under unbuttoned blazer and carries a baseball bat around. He has a scar over his right eye. Umeji is Oroso right hand man and takes over position while she's gone; these are the cannon versions of him and all that's said.

This is my fannon version of him: He was hurt the most during the bullying and therefore the most fearful of pain. He flinches when touched and gets pissed instantly. He's the most cold and aggressive out of the five and it helped him keep him as the most feared of the delinquents. He works out daily, therefore having a good build and likes bitter foods rather than sweets. He'a quite ignorant and refuses to share his likes out of fear of being judged. He still feels depression but now faces more anxiety than anything. He often cries about it late at night.

But despite his depression, he's so determined to stay as a threat to many. It's the kist alive he's ever felt. He's somewhat narcissistic and has both an inferiority and superiority complex, actually. Sensitive to touch and criticism but damn his ego is big. He uses his strength and speed as another threat to fellow students, to let them know that if they mess up then he'll catch and hurt them.

His home life isn't fun. Parents maybe fighting here and there or gone for work or something. It wasn't abusive in any way or anything; in fact, they get along well when they're together. It's just the parents weren't attentive. As Umeji puts it, "My mom, dad, bless their hearts, but they aren't great." They tend to brush things off quickly and spend too much time to themselves.

Dairoku Surikizu - Blue manz

He has blonde, previously blue, hair and blue eyes. He wears a blue shirt under an unbuttoned blazer and carries around a boten or some shit, idk I couldn't figure it out. He has a scar on his lip and from Mulberry's art, it looks like he's the tallest of the group.

Fannonly, he's the most anxious of the group. He never talks about it to anyone but Hokuto, who brushes it off. Dairoku got his scar a long time ago when his parents were agruing; he hid under his bed when he was nine and started to cry. To calm himself, he started to bite his lip and scratch himself on the forearms and face to calm himself down. He cut himself in the process badly and tried to hide it from his parents so he didn't get yelled at.

His home life wasn't too bad either; his dad left the family not long after that incident when he was nine so his mom has to take on the roles of two people. She never has time for him so the other delinquents make him feel so happy. He likes- no, loves to talk to them but tries to look sketchy in the process.

Hokuto Furukizu - Purple manz

He has blonde, previously golden, hair and purple eyes. From Mulberry's art, he seems to be the second tallest, but very close to Dairoku. He carried around a metal pipe and wears a purple shirt under his opened blazer. He has a scar on his cheek too btw.

Fannonly, he talks most to Dairoku. He usually brushed off what he says, but relates to him most. Of the 5, he desperately wants to be normal and free the most. He was well popular in middle school but his anger once got the best of him and a fight caused him to lose a lot of his reputation. It just got worse as time went on however; but he misses those days so much.

His scare on his cheek came from the fight and serves as a curse mark to him; "The day they ruined my life." He hates looking at it and gets pissed off when people even look at it. He's always been hot headed but his physical appearance is his number one insecurity. Hokuto's homelife is normal and he's goodboi at home. Cleans, cooks sometimes, has an equally good relationship with his mom as he does his dad.

He managed to convince them that his new appearance and signs of depression from last year was just influence from ex friends. Eventually they just took his word for it despite how terrible of a lie that is, so they stopped asking.

Gaku Hikitsuri - Red guyz

According to Mulberry's art, the blonde who once had light blue hair and red eyes is the second tallest. He has a scar on his forehead and carried around a crowbar. His shirt is red and under, you guessed it, an unbuttoned blazer.

He's a genuine tsundere; the angriest of the group. He easily crushes on people like a simp and gets nervous easily, so he acts all defensive and aggressive around them especially. Other than Umeji, he's the quickest to shove people around and assert his position. But for the most part, he intentionally shoves and shoulder checks people he finds attractive or who he thinks is superior than him, which is a lot of people.

He suffers from an inferiority complex that makes him think everyone judges him behind his back and talks about him especially. Therefore, he's the loudest and quickest to insults; he's also very self conscious. He's scared to make noise in class, talk, eat in front of people, and others because he's scared to be judged. Because as long as nothing is brought to the table, there's nothing to judge. His scar was actually from Kokoro, the bully who's just a sadist according to the character files from Yandev, who got pissed at him defending himself and hit him down with a ring. He got cut badly and almost passed out from the hit; but hey, it's not like he can do anything about since she's a girl, and he'd be expelled instantly. The bitch even resulted him with a broken arm at some point.

Home life isn't great; rundown trailerpark, alcoholic dad and whole of a step mom, dead mom, things like that. Damn, if only he got more than a mattress on the floor, a cover, pillow, dresser filled with all his clothes and school supplies to live on. But he can't even get a job without his scar making people think he's worse than what his persona displays.

Hayanari Tsumeato - Grey manz

The grey eyed, blonde hair man with natural red hair who carries around a lead pipe is Hayanari, who's last name "Tsumeato" means scratch mark. He has a grey shirt under his unbuttoned blazer and a scar over his nose.

Fannonly, he was the one with the no fucks given attitude. He was usually straight faced and brutally honest when talking to people, but wasn't necessarily judgemental. It's hard to explain but just because he says, "damn Daniel, you're built like a carrot," doesn't mean he cares about his appearance, even if whoever tf Daniel is actually looks like a carrot or not. He was the daredevil who did things solely for his entertainment.

In a way, it was almost sociopathic or narcissistic; he'd be fine with embarrassing someone in front of anyone because it got a smile our of him. If someone complained, he'd roll his eyes and convince whoever that they were overreacting and that they were the one at fault. He's very manipulative and sarcastic, usually just smiling cockily and speaking innocently. Kinda emo, but he wasn't against that title. He actually liked the occult and for the most part, was down for anything that didn't have too much time needed, like school or family.

He was in the middle of everything; okay with cooking, occult, art, science, reading, anine and games, so there wasn't much a person can dislike him for in terms of social standards. He wasn't appart of a dislikes group like the occult kids or science kids, not with a loved group like cooking or art kids. But when he started to express a bit of interest in the occult was when people could finally pin him down and bully him back for all those insulting jokes that sounded way too serious. And before he knew it, he got wrapped up in the hate and couldn't get himself free.

Home life is something he never, not even to his fellow delinquents, never talks about. But one thing worth noting is that he's never seen without a long sleeved shirt or jacket of some kind. He used to pass out time to time during gym classes because he was overheated due to bringing a long sleeved version of the gym shirt to school and never drank anything. When his parents were called, they always insisted on saying they'll do something about it but they never did, either. The delinquents do think there's some kind of abuse at his house; besides, Hayanari is adopted and those things happen often even if it's more common in the foster system.

His family is something he never talks about. Back in middle school, his friends were able to see his "parents" time to time when they picked him up from school. It was immediately obvious that he wasn't related to them; hell, he rarely called them mom or dad. At home, until adopted, was great. Friends coming over, happy family moments, being able to play games and use electronics, things like that. But when he was adopted was when it wouldn't be easy to just tell someone what was to come; quite obviously, it was abuse. Verbal and physical, nearly everyday. It was worse in the beginning but happened less often as he got older.

His "mom" would call the police a few times him because she felt "threatened." She hit him so he would hit back and yell while doing so, so she has evidence of an attack. But luckily, her skin isn't sensitive enough to show any marks unlike Hayanari's. Other times, his "dad" would get involved and hurt him badly.

[nerdygaymormon]

I'm... scared... of your blog. It goes against a whole lot of what I was taught to believe and follow growing up. But, at the same time, I've been hurt deeply by that... doctrine... and I've only just begun to see and understand the extent of that damage. So... what if this is what my wounded and weeping soul has been searching for... since I can't pick up any "official text" without having a violent physical reaction that is drowning in pain and fear? 1/?

I can't even get near a chapel or temple without reacting. And I can't bring myself to confide in any of my local bishopric or ward members. As a result, I've been suffering alone. I know I need therapy because this is some deep, messed up shit, but I have not been able to find a compassionate professional and I'm not want to continue the search. I've neither the funds nor the energy. 2/?

I'm 34yo born and raised in the Church. Three years ago I experienced something that made me question heavily whether Gd still loved me because I for sure felt damned. And that event caused the floodgates to open, I suppose. I've not been active for years due to chronic illness and being treated like some sort of sub-human because of my disability. I used to maintain a current temple recommend but not anymore. 3/?

I think I'm asexual. And the more and more I think about this, the more and more it explains some aspects of me that I thought were broken. (No desire to date as a teen, no feelings of sexual attraction to anyone, confusion about terms like "infatuation" and "crush", confused and disgusted by sex and the world's obsession with it.) But, at the same time, the more and more I grew to like this term, the worse my feeling of being Rejected by Gd became. 4/? 

But, even before I adopted the term, I began to feel unwanted and damned because of a history of attempted molestation at 5 years old and being taught that I was 'chewed gum' amongst other doctrines that insisted that my every decision and move was responsible for the sexual purity of the male mind. I felt violated in almost everything that I wore that I felt "pretty" in because I was under the belief I was a walking sin. 5/?

I say I'm scared of your blog... yet I read through several posts last night, body shaking and nauseous with fear and guilt. And here I am, unloading in your askbox because I'm so desperate for someone to talk to who won't judge me like I've been judged all my life. The last time I went to church, I ran out of Sacrament in tears, hyperventilating in my car for several minutes. I have not been back since. 6/?

I want to believe that I'm still loved. I want to believe that I'm still wanted. There is a vicious war going in within me, complicated by chronic and mental illness, that I've lost my sensitivity concerning Gd. I can't tell if or when He's talking to me because the constant anxiety, fear and pain drown out the more 'subtle' emotions. And the maladaptive coping mechanisms I've developed likely don't help either... 7/?

Thank you for listening... if you have anything insightful that you think might help, I'd like to read it. (I hope all these messages stayed anonymous...) 8/8

———————————————————————

Wow, the feels. You said so much. I recognize you’re in a hard place. 

—————————  

Don’t worry, you managed to stay anonymous. I know when sending multiple asks it’s to forget to push the anon option.

—————————  

Congrats on figuring out you are asexual (ace). 

I think discovering a lack of something is difficult. There’s all these hints along the way but then once you figure it out, it all makes sense, everything fits.  

Don’t be afraid to change your labels. We use words to describe how we understand ourselves. If the way you understand yourself changes, it’s fine to change your labels. 

—————————  

Having a chronic illness can be difficult, it can take over a life as you organize things around it. Having a disability also can be challenging, especially if it’s one that is visible to others because they often view you as your disability. 

The thing is, you have a personality that wants to be displayed, I can tell that just from these messages you sent me. As people spend time with you and get to know you, they will start seeing you and not your disability. 

—————————  

Things that you described about your feelings and reactions make me believe therapy would help. I’m no mental health professional, but I wonder if you have have the symptoms of PTSD (church caused you trauma) and an anxiety disorder. 

If you have insurance that will cover some sessions, look for a provider that takes your insurance. If you don’t, I know that therapy can be expensive. 

About 2 years ago I needed to see a therapist and I checked at my local university. They had a psychological services clinic where Ph.D. students could gain experience, so the price was reduced, and my therapy was overseen by professors who are up-to-date in their field.  

If you can’t get to therapy now, and if you want to go to church, it helps a lot to have someone you know that can go with you, like a security blanket. It makes it less scary to enter that space. 

If you don’t have someone like that, try contacting the missionaries, explain you haven’t been to church in a while but want to come back. They will be so happy to greet you in the lobby and have you sit with them. And if you want, they will introduce you around to others. 

—————————  

Tbh, I was very surprised at how you describe my blog. I didn’t realize someone would view it the way you did. 

It’s true that I think our church is wrong on LGBTQIA+ topics. This is because of a few things:

1) I feel the spirit let me know that God loves me as I am, a gay man, and that I’m not broken. This is how I’m meant to be. 

2) What we learn about our Heavenly Parents and how they love us and are fair and just, and they treat us the same and view humankind as alike. I can’t believe they would set up a whole group of their children to fail and not have a path to return to them.

3) Jesus stood with those who were on the margins, He spent time lifting others and taught us that real religion is helping others, especially those who are downtrodden and on the margins. 

4) The Church doesn’t show LGBTQIA+ people as a part God’s Plan. The Church doesn’t know what to do with us. And it’s not a good space for queer people so most LGBTQIA+ members leave. This is not good fruit and it’s not what I think God would want, for whole groups of people to not feel welcomed.

I don’t reject the principles of the gospel, I want them to apply to all of us, even me, a gay man, and even you, an asexual woman. We are beautiful, we have a purpose, we deserve to be accepted and have joy. 

I guess that is rebellious and dangerous because it challenges the Church’s narrative about people like you and me. 

I let people in church tell me terrible things and for so long I believed them. I don’t anymore. 

Refusing the shame that church gives us as queer people, that’s radical. Church is supposed to help us be better, not wear us down. 

You can love yourself and be happy as ace. This is part of how God made you, you don’t have to deny this is how you experience life. 

—————————

What are your goals? What kind of person do you want to be? What do you want your life to be like? 

My psychologist used to have me write what I would like my life to be like, and then we made goals to start doing those. 

You are capable of change. 

This is your life. 

God has given you talents. We’re not supposed to hide them under a bushel. Work on developing them and developing yourself. 

You are your own longest investment. Investing in yourself is a gift to the world, it’s how we develop ourselves and increases our capacity to help others.

—————————

I hope you feel I understood what you were trying to say to me. 

I also hope I gave you some things to think about, to ponder, and figure out what feels right to you.

[brimajo]

I feel a great emptiness, a huge knot in the pit of my stomach, it is as if a whole universe is collapsing in there and making so much, so much pressure, that it is not possible to breathe. An immense pain seizes me. Empty, dark, it is like a black hole that drags me to the bottom. There are no words that can express what I feel emotionally, I cannot find them, I cannot compare them with things that are known in this language, perhaps it is that I lack vocabulary.

I plan things that seem to need a lot of courage, although everyone calls you a coward, it is an irony that you do not want to feel pain but the solution must hurt you so that it stops hurting. It seems like nothing is instant or painless. An insistent longing, but a terrible fear at the moment, how contradictory it has become.

Before I thought that it would hurt or teach many a lesson, but now I can see clearly that it is a fallacy, utopia, fantasy, full of illusion. That is why I am even more convinced to look for alternatives and achieve it.

I think I don't care about being judged, misunderstood, misunderstood, etc. It's really what I've been through my whole life, I don't see why death is different.

My bones creak and tremble, it is a very strange sensation to explain, always shivers, but at the same time everything boils me, I am a radiator of heat, I roast inside, like in a great volcano, I feel how every internal organ is burning.

The feeling that something I did wrong, is present all the time, it never leaves me, that which tells me, that makes me know that I am definitely all a serious mistake, that I did something wrong, that all the decisions I make only get worse my life. This feeling of being ungrateful even though I feel grateful for everything; I have been told so many times that I think it must be true, I already believe it, I always refused to believe that deep down I believed it, but now I see that it is so.

I have worn many lenses of different colors, and none gives me anything durable, they all expire in some time, no matter where I go, who I talk to, they are always here.

I don't fit in, I don't belong to anyone, nowhere, I repel everything, I'm like a negative magnet, it isolates the positive, I'm inside a cage that I can't open, in a dark and small room that nobody knows or understands. Something is inside of me that eats me, eats me alive little by little, it is drying my bones and my strength has already taken them, I surrender, I will not fight anymore, I understood that it is time to finish, I cannot relate to absolutely anyone , although I always yearn for it, it seems that I live a life and I am a very different person than I am on the inside and there are only nuances on the outside, nuances from within, my true self, but there is also a dark force, always It's there and it's never gone, there's something wrong with me always all the time, I don't know what it is.

I always fail and fail, everything, every detail and angle of my life, everything was spoiled. I don't deserve anything. I have failed people that I love very much, I cannot recover from that, I never do things right, I am impulsive but I am analytical, I do things at the moment, regardless of whether someone will be harmed by that. I don't have to be here.

Many say that I have no right, that I am not the owner of life, that I will go to hell, but ... they do not know that I already live in one, what does it matter another eternal, if this has already seemed eternal. On the other hand, if I feel in heaven, like here on earth ... what heaven will that be. I don't deserve that either. The place I deserve is where I go.