#This is raw

[kyle1]

I am coming to hate the ingrained "move with a purpose" conditioning drilled in my brain......

I move so seamlessly, and efficient that there's no room to breathe love into anything I do.

Theres no lingering moments or hopeful headspace that occurs in real time..

-because I am always too focused on my current mission activity to concentrate on loving.

And even after the fact when I realize the opportunities I've missed, its too late to go back.

So I drift on, unable to ingnite what has been so oftten snuffed out and drowned.

I am prepared to die alone, because I have truly been broken beyond repair.

I accept my fate because it will never change. . . but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

............because I don't.

[gancanagh]

...Some people know me as hope...

So cower at the man I've become when I sing from the top of my lungs

That I won't retire, I'll stand in your fire, inspire the meek to be strong

And when I am gone, I will rise in the music that I left behind

Ferocious, persistent, immortal like you, we’re a coin with two different sides

[sosuaveh]

Sir Glenn of Glenwood is a fanfic about an original character in the world of The Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim.

Chapter 1

Sir Glenn of Glenwood.

An Imperial loyalist caught trying to cross the border into Skyrim. Mistaken for a deserter by his own people, he was to be put on the block. He suddenly felt more kinship with these rebels than with his people. He had been loyal for years. He had been loyal even as they took him towards the block.

"NEXT, the Imperial in the Rags," the words from the Legete stung. For years.

An echo from ages past escaped from the mountains around the imperial town.

A pause.

“Legete, did you hear that?” The legete ignored the question from the decorated soldier next to her.

“I said, next prisoner.” Sir Glenn felt the heat of her glare on his skin. The air around him icy, his breath visible from his mouth. The Imperial took a step forward. When another echo came from the mountains, he stopped.

“There it is again.” The soldier said.

“Next prisoner,” The Legete growled.

Sir Glenn started forward, his bare feet pinker in the cold. For some reason he didn’t feel it upon his skin. He felt he knew how the Nords felt in the winter. The Imperial in the rags reached the headsman.

“Only a coward hides his face,” Sir Glenn growled. The headman remained silent, only his bright blue eyes showing through his hood.

“Shut up,” The Legete shoved him down on his knees, in the bucket was the head of the rebel that died before him. A boot in the middle of his back pushed him down. The headsman heaved his axe onto his shoulder and stood above Sir Glenn.

A tower rose behind the hooded man, blocking the sun, and creating a halo effect around him. From further behind the tower, a winged black shape soared above the mountains. The roar that erupted from its maw was louder than any Khajjit he had met in Elsweyr.

“What in OBLIVION is that?” He heard the general, Tullius shout.

“Archers, what do you see?” The Legete called.

It was a dragon. Sir Glenn looked up from his position, helpless. The headsman continued his motion, oblivious to the beast behind him. As he reached the apex of his swing, the dragon came out of its dive, filled its massive black wings with air and landed on the tower. The tower and ground shook below the beast, knocking the headsman off balance. The man fell, allowing Sir Glenn to roll away. From the sky behind the dragon, Sir Glenn could see fireballs beginning to rain down from the sky.

“Imperial,” One of the rebels called from behind him. Sir Glenn spun around to see most of the rebels retreating toward a tower. “Come on, into the tower!”

Sir Glenn felt the familiar rush of excitement. A battle was his comfort zone. He followed the rebels into the tower, where a medic was already working to save a rebel from burn wounds. The injured man groaned in pain as the magic worked to heal his burnt skin, to no avail.

“Jarl Ulfric, could the legends be true? Is that a dragon?” The soldier asked the man in the decorative cloak. Sir Glenn remembered the soldier from the wagon ride in. His name was Ralof.

The man who he spoke to in the cloak spoke for the first time, for the Imperials gagged him on the way in. It was a rumble from his chest, and Sir Glenn could feel the power this man had.

“Legends don’t burn down villages.” He turned to the stairs.” Up the tower now! Before the dragon brings it down on top of us!”

Sir Glenn headed up the tower as the man said. In the middle of the tower, one of the Stormcloacks was already trying to move boulders from the ceiling out of the way to access the roof.

“Come on, help me move this,” he motioned towards Sir Glenn. Before the Imperial could take a step, the wall crashed in on the man knocking him to the hard ground. A stream of fire as bright as the sun bathed him in heat. Sir Glenn retreated a few steps down the stairs. The inferno ceased as quickly as it had begun and the dragon took flight.

“Come on, jump through to the inn. I'll meet you on the other side.” Ralof said.

Sir Glenn didn't question it. He jumped through the landing and rolled in the inn. Fire crackled around him as he searched for a way out.

He walked across the room. He could see that the stairs had collapsed on the far side of the room. Closer to him, the floor gave way and gave access to the ground floor.

The destruction caused by the dragon was immense. Fires burned around the town leaving scorched bricks and burnt wood.

The inn was in shambles. Plates and fresh food scattered the ground in the wake of the dragon. Atop a barrel, Sir Glenn grabbed an intact bottle of ale and downed it. As he continued through the building the fire burned around him and the ceiling behind him collapsed.

“By the Nine, I'm getting out of here.” He took the bottle and turned it on end, downing it in one go. He shook his face as he finished, savoring the taste.

“The stormcloak did mention an ale with Juniper Berries,” he said to himself. As he ran out of the inn through a collapsed wall, he saw the Imperial soldier from before that was unsure about his execution.

“Hamming,” the soldier shouted at a child running towards him, “over here! That’a boy!” As he made it around the corner of the house that they hid behind, the dragon landed and spewed a jet of fire in their direction. The heat that radiated from the flame, made Sir Glenn turn away.

“Damn, Hamming, stay with Jaurad.”

“God's guide you Hadvar.” The man, Jaurad said, his voice hoarse.

“Still alive prisoner? Good. Keep close if you want to stay that way.”

Hadvar ran towards the direction of the keep.

“Stay close to the wall.” He said as he hugged to the wall. Moments later, Sir Glenn heard the low swoop of giant wings. A crash of bricks fell from the wall as the giant wings of the dragon hung from above the two men. Flame erurpted above their heads, and Sir Glenn looked up at the dragon. The dragon closed its jaws, shutting off the flame. Cocking its head to one side, Sir Glenn and the dragon made eye contact. A chill went down his spine.

The dragon righted its head, and jumped off the wall, unfurled its wings and took to the sky. In front of him, was the target of the dragon's fire. A man curled in a ball, skin smoking and peeling. Sir Glenn looked around the man’s remains, he lay across his sword.

The two men kept moving. They walked through the remains of a collapsed house to come out to the front gate. Sir Glenn recognised one of the men that held the open ground. General Tullius, the bastard was still alive.

“Hadvar,” The general yelled out, “To the keep soldier, we are leaving!”

“You hear that prisoner? Stay close!” The soldier took off at a run towards a large bridge at the point of collapse. On a second look Sir Glenn realized that it was a toppled tower, leaning against the outer tower of the keep. The two ran under and came to another open plaza in front of the keep.

From the opposite side of the plaza, Ralof the Stormcloak emerged.

“We’re leaving Hadvar. You aren’t stopping us this time.” Ralof said, looking at Sir Glenn.

“Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.”

The two ran past each other and Ralof looked at Sir Glenn,”Come on Imperial, we are escaping!”

Hadvar stopped.

“Good luck, Hadvar.” Sir Glenn said as he turned to go with the stormclock. He didn’t look back. Ralof opened the door and the two headed inside.

“He’ll get out, you can count on it.” Ralof said.

Inside the keep was eerily quiet and a stormclock lay bleeding next to the table across the room. On the left side of the room was a sturdy wooden gate. It looked to be lever operated but Sir Glenn didn’t see a lever in the room. To the right was a metal gate. Sir Glenn took a couple steps in the room, coming fully into the torch light.

“Gods, Gunnar,” Ralof knelt to the dead stormcloak. “Take his armor and put it on. Give that axe a few swings too. He won’t be needing it any longer.” Sir Glenn took the man's armor, unbuckled the straps and slid it off him. The right shoulder was smeared in blood and the material was sliced, but it didn’t bother Sir Glenn.

From the direction of the wooden gate, a womans voice was heard.

“Get this gate open soldier, Now!” Her voice low and threatening. A single thought came to the Imperials head. Forget the list, he goes to the block. Sir Glenn smiled. Since the moment he had laid eyes on the legete he knew that he would kill her.

“Shh, you hear that,” Ralof whispered, “Imperials, hide!” The two men took up positions on either side of the gate. As the chain drew upwards, the gate followed and the legete and another soldier walked through.

“Stormclocks,” The legete shouted as Sir Glenn swung the axe at her chest. The blow bounced off the shield she brought up just in time. Sir Glenn growled as she struck back. Dodging her blow, he swung again. Her shield dented and her shoulder buckled. She retreaded a couple steps but Sir Glenn stayed hot on her trail. Giving her no time to rest, the large Imperial man strung together a combination of four swings, each one driving the woman closer to the ground. As a final blow, Sir Glenn impaled his axe deep into the crease of her neck and shoulder.

“Dammit,” she said, choking out blood. Sir Glenn jerked his weapon out and threw it on the ground.

“Get me that hammer he had,” he said to Ralof. The stormcloak knelt to pry it out of the soldiers hands. Sir Glenn took the woman’s helmet and the soldiers armor. It only took him a couple minutes to completely tie all the knots. Once he donned the helmet, Ralof nodded.

“Let’s get out of here, this way.” He briskly walked to the metal gate, “damn, locked. See if they had a key.” The tall Imperial knelt next to the legetes body, checking her pockets as he looked for the key. He pocketed a small bag of coins and found the key tied around her neck. He tossed the key to Ralof, who unlocked the door and headed deeper into the keep.

They walked down a spiral set of stairs and the ground above them rumbled as the dragon roared above. Once they were at the end of the stairs they came to a long hallway. Halfway into the hallway, a group of stormcloaks beckoned to Ralof. In the moment after, a crack opened in the ceiling above them with a loud roar. Debris and bricks fell into the hallway, cutting the two groups off from each other.

“Come on, this way.” Ralof said, opening a door to a room on the left. Across the room was a lit fireplace, the hot flames reminiscent of the dragon fire. To the right we’re several tables, plates with food still on them. In the middle of the room two men spun around, brandishing weapons.

“Damn Imperial's,” Ralof snarled as the men charged. Sir Glenn brought the hammer up taking a mans strike in the center of the shaft. The iron sparked and clanged. The soldier gathered himself and struck again. Sir Glenn jumped out of the way, swung, and missed. The soldier attacked and caught air as Sir Glenn again dodged the attack. The hammer came down before the soldier could react. His eyes crossed as his skull cracked. For a moment he stood there. Not realizing that his head had been split open, then he collapsed on the ground.

Ralof threw the other soldier to the ground after impaling him through the stomach. Sir Glenn checked the men for items but both came up empty.

“This is a storage room. Check around for anything useful.” Ralof said, opening a barrel and fishing out a few potions. On the shelf on the opposite side of the room, Sir Glenn spotted a few small green and red bottles. He stashed them in a pack that was laying on a table in the center of the room. After shouldering the pack he cracked the lids off of two barrels next to the shelf. Inside the first was nothing but red apples, the imperial pondered it a moment before stuffing one inside for later. The second was much more rewarding. In the bottom, lay an assortment of potions.

Sir Glenn moved on, meeting with Ralof at the door.

“You ready? Well let’s go.” He said. They came out of the other side of the collapse. To the left the hallway ran deeper into the keep. Ralof started at a run down the stairs. Sir Glenn followed close.

Outside the dragon roared again.

As they retreated deeper into the dungeons, the smell became foul.

“Oh, gods. The torture room.” Ralof said, bring his sword up. Down the stairs the familiar sound of swords clashing echoed up. The smell of singed hair lingered in the air.

The two men spilled into the torture room finding a pair of stormcloaks mid-fight with the torturer and his assistant. The assistant swung a large mace at a wiry male in an oversized tunic. He attempted to block the blow but his shield gave under the pressure. Splinters showered his face and his shoulder dislocated from its socket. He cried out but it ended when a bolt of lightning from across the room flung him across the floor. The crackle of electricity humming from his body.

Sir Glenn went straight for the assistant, swinging his hammer overhead in a circular motion. The man parried one swing but lost his weapon in the second. Sir Glenn brought his hammer down across the mans shoulder. He could hear the bones cracking, as it traveled. The man collapsed to the ground, and Sir Glenn spun to face the remaining opponent. The torturer himself, an older man, with a hood covering his head, backed himself into a corner. He took a deep breath before accepting his fate and collapsing on the ground.

“Was that a spell?” Sir Glenn asked. He walked over to the man’s body, which was pulsating with electricity. “He’s dead for sure,” The Imperial raised his hammer and brought it down, crushing his chest, “but just to be sure.”

Behind him was a room, gated off with iron bars all around. The gate was ajar and Sir Glenn went inside. On the brick wall, shields, swords, and hammers hung from a weapon rack. Sir Glenn looked at the hammers. Trading his bent iron hammer for a newer steel one, he left the room.

“Imperial, come here.” Ralof said. The two remaining Stormcloaks huddled around a cage. Inside a dead mage. Sir Glenn reached through the bars and picked up a blue potion, and a little coin pouch that was on the man.

“Long arms don’t need a lockpick,” Ralof joked.

Sir Glenn stood and followed Ralof to the exit of the room. On a table, a black book with the dragon of the Empire, rested. Sir Glenn picked it up and opened the cover. The Book of the Dragonborn. He pocketed it, wanting to read it later.

The small group continued deeper, past the dungeon. The dungeon was littered with bodies and skeletons. More than one wore the uniform of Stormcloak.

Sir Glenn wondered if Ralof knew anyone in here. The man had a sad look on his face as they walked through the room. The room narrowed to a hall leading to a large open room. To the right, down a set of stairs were two Imperial soldiers, standing next to a flowing stream. Beyond them was a set of stairs back up onto the platform above them.

Directly in front of him was a small wooden bridge that crossed the small stream. One soldier was before the bridge and two were beyond. Out of five men, not a single one noticed as the three walked in.

Sir Glenn went down the stairs, heading straight for one of the unsuspecting soldiers. He grabbed him in a headlock and flipped him on his back. He slammed the hammer into the mans sternum, the man’s life force leaving his eyes.

An archer from the raised platform shouted and nocked an arrow. Sir Glenn ran and put the second soldier between him and the archer. An arrow flitted past with a zip. Sir Glenn easily blocked the attack from the soldier in front of him. A second arrow narrowly missed his left leg. He looked up and deflected a blow from the soldier again. He struck the man in his right knee, which collapsed as expected. Immediately he grabbed the man and an arrow stuck deep in his chest. The soldier cried out and went limp in his arms.

Fifteen meters were between Sir Glenn and the archer. The man reached behind him for another arrow. Sir Glenn took off at a run towards him. The man fumbled when he looked up at the huge man barreling in his direction. The arrow dropped to the ground with a clatter and the hammer pinged off of the archers skull.

“Nice fighting there Imperial,” Ralof commented.

“I'll wait here for Jarl Ulfric.” The other soldier said.

Ralof clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a nod.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” The Nord said, walking towards the exit. They walked through a natural passage with a wooden drawbridge. Sir Glenn pulled a lever on the ground and it fell down with a thud.

The two men walked across the bridge. Below was the small stream that continued from the previous room. Once they crossed the bridge, they heard another roar and the cracking of bricks as the ceiling caved in on top of the bridge and closing the passage.

“Damn that dragon doesn’t give up easy. Don’t worry they’ll find a way out.” In truth, Sir Glenn had forgotten that other stormcloaks had been in the keep.

They turned around to face the expanse before them. The cave was dark and dust hung in the air from the rock collapse. Roots covered rocks on the far side of the room and seemed to crawl upwards.

They walked down the stairs to the cave floor. There was a tunnel on the far side of the room that most likely led out. The two men followed the tunnel and came out to another room, this one was about thirty feet to the ceiling and had a large hole covered in spider webs at the top.

As they walked in, a crack sounded from above them as an enormous spider descended from the ceiling above. Poison dripped from its fangs as it twitched towards the two. They split apart forcing the creature to choose. It veered towards Ralof and two small spiders climbed out from rocks near Sir Glenn.

Sir Glenn jumped as one nipped at his ankle. He brought his hammer down on top of the small ones, and one by one he crushed them.

The large one was still engaged with Ralof, who rolled out of the way from its huge fangs. It clicked its fangs together in frustration as Ralof faced it again. Sir Glenn came up behind the spider and crushed a leg with his hammer. The spider tried to turn towards the new opponent and Ralof saw his moment and he thrust his sword through a gap behind the head of the creature.

It squealed in pain before collapsing on the ground with a thud.

“Giant spiders. What’s next, giant snakes?” Ralof said, with a smile on his face.

Sir Glenn chuckled, but didn’t say anything back. As the two men continued through the cave, they entered a small hallway that snaked around for several meters. Finally the path opened into another cavern. This one was much shorter than the previous one with the spiders.

A natural bridge projected over the stream which still flowed below. The two walked over the land bridge, Sir Glenn marveled at the cave. It had crevices that emitted light, glowing mushrooms, and more. Sir Glenn looked over the glowing mushrooms that was closest to him. It grew from the wall and went upwards towards the ceiling.

As they walked Ralof stopped suddenly.

“Stop, there’s a bear up ahead. I’d rather not tangle with her right now.” He said crouching down. Sir Glenn looked at the bear. It’s black fur and huge size made him guess that it was a species of Cave Bear. He knew that they could be found in the northernmost province.

It tossed in its sleep, causing Sir Glenn’s heart to leap. He didn’t want to fight it either. It wouldn’t be a fight in his favor.

Carefully he stepped around a pillar, making less than a whisper. The bear tossed again and he froze. He glanced back at Ralof, who had his eyes fixed on the bear. The Imperial looked back into the direction of the bear who lifted its head and sniffed the air.

Ralof drew his bow. His eyes zeroed in on the bear. It tossed his head back, stood on his hind legs and let out a roar. Ralof released the arrow. It zipped past Sir Glenn’s head and impaled into the chest of the bear.

The bear fell back onto all fours and stalked towards them. Sir Glenn stepped forward and brought up his hammer. The bear lunged at him, the enormous paw narrowly missing his shoulder as he dove out of the way. Another arrow impaled the beast in the right shoulder as Sir Glenn brought the hammer down on the back of its neck. It roared and stood again on all fours, swiping with its front paws. The Imperial jumped back, dodging the attacks.

Sir Glenn then bolted forward and swung his hammer low and made contact with a bone in the bears leg.

Crack!

The animal doubled forward and collapsed on its now bum leg. Another arrow came from Ralof, this one embedding deep in its neck. The bear backed up, realizing it had lost the fight. Sir Glenn swung upward this time, catching the bear by the lower jaw.

The bears eyes crossed and Sir Glenn chained another swing in, this time downwards. The skin and bone cracked and blood seeped from the wound on the top of its head. It collapsed and the last breathe left its lungs.

“Not one for the sneaky approach, are you?” Ralof laughed.

“Not with all this clanky armor, no.” the Imperial said with a smile.

The two continued through the cave, finding no more enemies in the cave. They reached the end of the cave within a few minutes.

They crawled out of the crevice, into the daylight.

“Hide! Here it comes!” Ralof whispered, hoarsely. The two ducked close to an outcropping of boulders.

With two flaps of its great black wings, the dragon flew past them, faster than anything they’d ever seen. Within a few moments, it flew over the mountain to the north and out of sight

[were-my-demons-hide]

I had this tiny twd story idea on my mind a while ago. Started writing. Abandoned it. (Completely forgot my idea)

Let's see where this is going (hopefully my mind can figure out a next part!)

“Hey, can I… can I get matches?” Magna asked quietly.

“You should try to take it easy for a minute.” Daryl gave her a dismissive look.

“I can’t. I need to do something.” She admitted.

“You need to stop working yourself up.” Daryl threw it at her. Magna let out a sigh of frustration. Her eyes were on Daryl the whole time. How could he just sit there?

Magna started walking around the dark cave pointlessly. The emotions began getting to her core. She fucking left Yumiko after their argument. Her heart was aching. 

Magna could not stand the imagination of Yumiko being hurt. Being hurt by her.

Trying to shake off the rattling thoughts, Magna took a deep breath.

She picked up the torch next to Daryl and illuminated one crevice after the other. 

“Hey, stop doing that. We are taking a break, and so should you.” Daryl’s rough voice alone got her upset again.

“I already told you. I can’t.” Magna tried to keep her composure. Daryl didn’t know what was going on in her head. Hell, he didn’t know her at all. Not during the apocalypse, not before. 

“Save your energy.” He demanded, standing next to her now.

“What don’t you understand about ‘I can’t’?!” Magna gave him an intense stare. “For fuck’s sake. Stop harassing me. I’m trying to find a way out. If you want to stay here forever, good. Do your thing.”

Magna stomped off in a rage. Everything in her head winded up around Yumiko and her disappointed face. 

[writtenbygen]

Why not

I’ve spent a lot of time and energy on all the reasons “why” he was perfect for me and why we should be together. So for in the future, when I inevitably idealize him again and feel like I should’ve given him more of a chance and maybe we’d be together, here are the reasons why we’re not.

I’ve been sure of him for almost a year. At which point he was fairly in and out. He knew he was a major confidant of mine, yet would often leave texts unanswered and cancel plans without rescheduling. I get it, he doesn’t feel well. But then when I stopped reaching out, going the entire summer without seeing each other and barely speaking at all. Never once checks in on me when I had confided all the problems I was having in the spring. 

Then he miraculously reappears in the fall. Doing a little better. He wants to see me. Then he wants to see me more regularly. He says “yes” to plans and we’re regularly part of each other’s lives. It gets to the point where I can expect to hear from him pretty often. Where he knows what’s going on in my life and I know what’s going on in his. I know he has doctor appointments on Tuesdays and therapy on Thursdays. He texts me to check in at 3pm on the dot when he knows that’s the time my stressful dentist appointment would be over. It starts to feel like a little more than friends. 

Then he drops off again.

Then I have a horrible tragedy—the death of one of the most important people in my life. I call him. Because everything feels so wrong. And I know when I’m with him, I feel like everything is a little more right. He’s there for me. He tells me to come over right away. That first night, I fell apart, and as horrible as it felt to be falling apart, it felt so right that it was his arms that I fell into. I felt safe and loved and at home. I said to him that I wished I could stop existing temporarily and he said “please don’t. I kinda like you.” He put his arm around me and he held me to his chest and I listened to his heartbeat. I told him I never wanted to move and he said I didn’t have to. We sat like that on more than one occasion, 3 separate days.

It was more than a friendship.

Over the coming weeks, he and that old couch in his basement and the little orange flicker of the fake candle underneath the lamp, became my safe place. That grounded me. Daily texts, checking in on me, reminding me he was there. He’s there for me in exactly every way I need him to be. He reaches out, responds, sees me whenever I need him. Comforts me, holds me, lets me cry, distracts me, includes me with his family and friends. He is perfect. He is the supportive partner I’ve always dreamed of. It feels like things are happening. 

Whenever I was feeling lost and alone and overwhelmed by my life, I remembered him. I could text him and he’d always respond. I could invite myself over and be there soon back in his comfort. And even when I couldn’t right away, I could think about it. Just the thought that he was there supporting me, cheering me on, and the thought that I’d see him soon, that he’d be there for me, was enough to get me through the worst days of my life.

He invited me to spend Christmas Day with his family. He invited me to New Year’s Eve with his friends. It felt like things were really “happening.” It definitely felt like more than friends. His mom said she thinks of me as part of the family. The New Year’s “party” was just his close guy friends from high school, and me. It felt like I was his plus-one. This was more than a friendship.

Then he dropped off again.

Daily texting turns into maybe a text or 2 every day or 2. It gets less and less frequent. Less and less interesting. When I ask how he is, I get vague answers. He claims he’s more absent because of his own issues. Maybe that’s true. He says he doesn’t want to talk and isn’t up to talking lately. Yet, he is also extremely hurt and offended that his stupid ex girlfriend won’t make time to talk to him. He wants to talk to HER. But not me. Not me, who he knows is counting on him. Not me, who he knows loves him and is there for him.

I don’t know if he’s spooked because he felt like things were happening with us. I don’t know if he doesn’t feel the same way or is just overwhelmed or is just hung up on his ex. I don’t know if it all really IS just because he’s sick and depressed. And honestly? It doesn’t even matter. I’m sick of not being a priority. I’m sick of him always coming first to me, and me only coming first to him when it’s convenient for him. He’s unreliable and inconsistent. He’s there only when he wants to be. He doesn’t communicate. He shuts me out. He pines for someone who couldn’t care less about him, and shuts me out when I clearly care so much for him.

This is a big case of: if he wanted to, he would. I don’t need to tell him how I feel about him. I can’t, even, because I haven’t seen him. I can’t see him, because he doesn’t want to see me. For almost a month now. But he knows how I feel. I’ve made it very, very obvious, and he’s LITERALLY a rocket scientist. He’s not stupid. He’s always been more observant and less oblivious than he acts. I’ve gotten my answer. No response is a response. I am done putting my life on hold for him. I deserve better than the scraps he throws at me.

In the wake of this, I feel absolutely wrecked by him. In the horribleness of the last couple months, he has been the straw that broke me. I feel absolutely shattered, heartbroken, and abandoned by him. Even though nothing ever “happened,” he can’t possibly have been so thick to not see at the very least that he was extremely important to me and was a huge reason why I wasn’t falling apart (in addition to it just being plain obvious, I actually told him this). He was there for me at my lowest and then gradually phased me out. What, as if I wouldn’t notice? The worst part is, I wasn’t even surprised. He got progressively more and more distant, like he always does. I thought this time would be different. Maybe it was. But he’s still him, and I half-expected that from the start. He’s not going to change. And this is what I’m going to get from him. I’m never going to come first to him. He’s never going to be open and communicate with me. He’s never going to be real with me. It’s always going to be one-sided. I’m just going to pathetically pine for him like he pines for his ex.

I cannot be broken by him one more time. I deserve better than to keep giving him chances thinking that it may turn out differently. I’m not going to give him the opportunity to crush me again.

I can now officially say, I saw this “relationship” through. I gave it a chance. It won’t work out. I see that it won’t work out. These are the reasons why. The reasons why I deserve better than him. There are so many things I love about him, but he makes it impossible and painful to love him. He would be perfect as a hypothetical. But he’s not hypothetical. He’s real, and he’s flawed, and he’s broken me time and time again. Whether or not it’s deliberate or malicious, he has. He’s not horrible, he’s not the worst person ever, but he’s also not as great as I’ve made him out to be in my head. When I put it this way, when I see who he really is and what he’s really done and take off the rose-colored glasses, I can finally see that. I’ve given him way too much power over me and my life. I need to break the cycle. I need to stop giving him chances to hurt me. Things are bad enough right now. The last thing I need is to feel crushed and gutted by my “friend.”

But love isn’t rational. Love doesn’t make any sense at all. Love is why, in spite of all the reasons why not, I still want him. I still love him.

[azelletown]

Me, about to eat my meal i bought from my university’s cafeteria: Don’t be raw, please don’t be raw

The meat in the burgers and sandwiches:

[inbabylontheywept]

so once me and my wife were watching a documentary where a snake ate like a million eggs. that snake just went to fucking town on eggs. and the snake made the eggs look so good that i kept thinking about it, and thinking about it, and thinking about it, and eventually it was 11pm and i ran out of willpower and decided to eat one (1) singular raw egg just to prove to myself that the snake was surely a liar.

the snake was not a liar. texture is like, super important to me and raw eggs are very Texture so i had another one, and then another one, and then another one, and eventually i ran out of eggs.

i had like, fifteen raw eggs.

i didnt really know how to explain this momentary madness to my wife, so my Plan was to put all the eggshells into a grocey bag, and then throw that grocery bag in the dumpster, and if she never noticed that would be Excellent and if she noticed immediately i could lie and say that the eggs went bad.

except i cant lie very good, and of course with murphys law being such, i got salmonella.

so i threw up a lot and my wife asked me what poisoned me so and i tried very hard to dodge the question but i was oozing shame like oil from a room temperature cheese and eventaully i gave in and told her everything and to her enormous credit she was more flabbergasted than actually upset. she did make me promise to not eat any more raw eggs, which i have stuck to, and she gives me weird looks during nature documentaries now as if desire was the only thing keeping me from eating thousands of pounds of krill anyway i made a joke earlier about being able to eat my age in eggs and my sister in law in law made a drawing to comemorate the moment and also because it was my birthday. she's excellent. thank you 10000000% @cintailed. you should all visit her page and admire her work.

[jackyjackdraws]

Local scientist enters the Olympics without any equipment nor protections

Gets a silver medal

Refuses to elaborate further

Leaves

[lady-raziel]

i'm sorry but this is the only submission to this trend that i'll consider giving any thought to

[monzterzack]

animal biologist laios touden!

[duskerkeit]

a homage to Sappho - Norman Lindsay c.1928

[ribbonentrails]

Welcoming home His Majesty

[eemamminy-art]

I love that they added these new bits of dialog about how much he likes eggs—

I'M SORRY????

[violetbudd]

raw meat dividers / free to use

[olou4]

🚿