#because i am!! too broken!!!! to ever achieve any of the things that WOULD give me a real solid tangible reason to keep living!!!!!!

[nbmudkip]

rehyperfixating on a children’s game that came out in 2015, is one of the least popular entries in its series, and has minimal content, the vast majority of which i’ve seen before. the series has been dead for nearly 10 years, nothing has happened recently that would warrant anyone’s returning interest in it, very few of my friends give a shit about this specific game, and those few who played and liked it in the past have no reason to give a shit about it at all right now. i have been coasting through on a playthrough i’ve been doing with a friend who’d never seen the game before and who was kind enough to let me show it to them, but we just beat the game, and after we play the epilogue we will have nothing left to do, and on top of that they really have just been humoring me as they have their own very strong current hyperfixation they would much rather be thinking about. also i am depressed enough right now that literally nothing else except for waiting to play this game with them and playing this game with them and watching them enjoy it at least a little has been able to briefly quiet the constant cacophony in my head screaming how much of a worthless, lazy, constantly-failing miserable excuse for a living person i am and how much better everything would be, especially for myself, if i stopped existing lately. would anyone like to volunteer to 🔨💥⚒️Kill Me With Hammers🔨💥⚒️ because i would really like for someone to 🔨💥⚒️Kill Me With Hammers🔨💥⚒️ right now

[sirwadewilsonfromimgur]

Deadpool and Wolverine KCAU Christmas Special

Part 2

Authors note: This part of the story has been broken up into chapters to make it an easier read and more manageable for me... fair warning, this is 2065. It's an adult Dr. James Wilson story which as you may or may not know, unless you've read my other stuff, is a Marvel and House MD crosover-vers... So come play with me in my sandbox.

New Jersey Earth-10005

Christmas time 2065

Chapter 1

It was the week before Christmas, Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital dosn't stop working for holidays. James was already having a shit day as he walked in to his office... his friend Gregory house was behind his desk, likely waiting for him or hiding from someone. You never really knew... he was on the phone with someone.

I know right, its crazy how... oh, he just walked in.

Who are you on the phone with?

Your sister Ellie, fun gal. We were just discussing your high-school years. She called for you, but I was already here so I took the call for you...

God damn it! Give me the phone...

Hello.

Hello James, your friend Greg is hilarious, I hope no one ever pays me to kill him...

Why do you always say creepy shit like that, Ellie. Can't anyone in this damn family have a normal phone conversation?

Oh, we sound a little testy today. I'll cut to the chaise... Dad wants all of us home for Christmas this year. Including you and Laura. He wants to do a whole thing... your presence... is not optional thos year. I'll see you on Monday.

Ellie thats fucking ridiculous.

I am busy. People don't stop getting sick just because it's December. I'm a doctor. i can't just take a week off without notice... I know that's a hard concept since you decided to make it your vocation to put people in hospitals or worse.

Or worse cost extra, but that's besides the point...We all make choices, little brother.

The question is, are you prepared to deal with the consequences...

You can get in the jet dad will 100% send on Monday, fly home for the week willingly

Or....

Deal with Laura when she comes to collect you along with her entourage of Xmen... I'm sure the hospital staff will love that.

I don't think they're in the business of kidnapping doctors. Laura wouldn't do that even for dad.

Well, I would... and I'll bring all my favorite armed thugs to help... Or I suppose we could do christmas in New Jersey. As long as we're all together. Right?

Eleanor... you're a bitch.

Love you too, James... oh... and don't be surprised if dad hasn't already called that Cuddy Lady...

My Boss!

You know dad, I told him you'd tell me you're busy... so he was likely proactive. She is either terrified or the proud recipient of some large donation oooor "porque no los dos" as Laura would say.

James hung up the phone. He knew Ellie was serious, when Wade Wilson set his mind to it, he was focused and rarely didn't achieve his goals... a admirable trait. Until a gang of paramilitary goons show up to kidnap you so you don't miss traditional christmas eve lasagna.

-Cut to Wilson in Cuddys office-

He'd explained to her the situation... and she was well aware of the consequences. Wilson's relationship with his father was almost as crazy as his relationship with House...

She recalled a time before she was Dean of medicine. When Wade found out Wilson had received a mediocre review... he'd used his considerable influence and threats of violence to have the accreditation board threaten to pull certification from the hospital until it was remedied...

that's actually how she got the position. The previous dean was regularly harassed any time he felt Wilson was slighted, and finally, he couldn't take it anymore and retired early... to Wilsons credit, he had no idea this was going on until Cuddy took the job. the previous dean was probably threatened into silence on the subject, too...

Cuddy was never one to be bullied and had come clean with James about all of his father's antics shortly after taking the position. Wade Wilson was dangerous, but she'd be damned if she'd let a mercenary tell her how to run a hospital

Wilson quickly put a stop to this behavior and added that Cuddy was a friend knowing that bare minimum his dad would be less threatening to one of "Kittens" friends.

She agreed to give him the week off despite late notice and the myriad of other HR and staffing problems associated with being short a doctor on one condition... he had to take Greg with him... she didn't have the time or patience to Deal with the illustrious Dr House without Wilson to help her.

By the time he'd gotten back to his office house hadn't really moved much... sitting behind Wilson's desk playing on his phone...

Don't you have a patient or something to attend to?

Actually, no... none worth my time anyway... Forman and the cute australian one can handle what is obviously subclinical measles with a secondary flu infection... vaccinate your kids... idiots.

Well, since you're not busy, I guess you'd be ok leaving early with me and packing for a trip... I'd like you to come to Kansas city with me for Christmas...

Kinda short notice to book a flight. he said suspiciously

it'll be a direct flight, Private... no TSA and probably a bottle of Dom Pérignon. he said this in a tone of playful temptation.

I thought you were Jewish?

On paper I am... I converted for Bonnie when we got married, House... you were there at the wedding... I told you this.

like I keep track of your current brand of imaginary friend that closely... I do remember that marriage ending because despite converting to Judaism, you couldn't get a grasp on the Seventh Commandment in particular

Ok, ouch.

That leads me to my next question. What makes you think I want to go with you to your weird families christmas?

Because if you don't... unless you get an interesting case soon, Cuddy said you'd be scheduled 12 hour shifts in the clinic every day next week.

Damn it...

I suppose I will go with you to the middle of bum fuck and flyover and enjoy a country christmas on the ranch with you... not like I have a choice, besides I've never really had the chance to get to know your parents. I drank so much at the last wedding. The only thing I remember of them is one of them wore a red mask... and the other looked like an angry Calvin Kline model.

Kansas City is an actual metropolitan. My parents live in a high rise, not on a ranch... and dad... can be kind of shy in large groups of people he doesn't know.

Well, since im not allowed to be unsupervised, there are worse places to be in December... like the clinic, holiday ailments are the worst. At least one person has an ornament shoved up their ass... But it beats the hell out of spending the holidays with my parents. You're lucky, really. My dad was a Marine constantly moving... or abandoning me with my grandmother.

Oh, are we playing this game? I was raised by a mentally unstable warlord with a gun fetish and his Victorian era husband the worlds grummpiest teddy bear who has knives in his hands and PTSD from the American Civil War.... and a grandmother who did more drugs than every member of the Rolling stones combined, and she liked to tell me wildly inappropriate stories... usually about my dad's banging, or how she was a sultry honey pot when she worked for MI6.

well, my grandmother beat me..

Jesus fine, you win.

on that note, Johns Hopkins didn't exactly have a good mutant biology program... if they're both genetically you parents shouldn't you *waves his hands in the air making mock magical gestures* have some power

I'm pretty sure my mutant ability is loving and tolerating reprobates and assholes.

It takes one to know one, James...

Our story ends here for now... the boys go home and pack for a week in Kansas City.

Wade had indeed arranged for a car to pick them up and take them to a private air strip where a Gulfstream G700 was waiting for them

Fancy!

Trust me, it gets old quick.

Silly photo shop for fun.

[tabbyhoney]

Gorgeous

Inspired by "Fear of you" from @sleepwalkersqueen

Note:The first chapter is done! My current goal is to write a chapter for each week but maybe it will take two weeks sometime but that is an issue for future me. I am really excited to see some feedback and how you guys like it:). On another note, while I try my best to keep a relatively straight line and facts with the original story some things might be wrong, please feel free to correct me if it happens ♥️. My current goal is a total of 5 chapters since I only want these to be a relatively short story that doesn't rewrite too much stuff happening in the original story because I obviously don't just wanna rewrite the fic. Please enjoy!

Next>>

Warnings: I am not a therapist so please take everything written here not as a prime example or as a fact, mention of torture, curse words

Chapter 1

I always wanted to see what more Tartarus had to offer. I wanted to explore every single floor there was. Meeting a new and more dangerous villain each day. Getting to know their thought process, if there really was a bigger masterplan behind it.

Answering my questions that spiraled in my brain like an endless loop. Are they actually wicked? Do they have any sign of humanity in them? Are they just broken souls? Can such a broken mind be fixed? Cliché I know.

All these questions are the real reason why I wanted to work here. Luck was on my side at the time I applied, because they wanted to test out if a therapist might be able to help them with their work (Which basically summarized that they wanted to get more information out of the patients).

But even when I worked with them they still continued with the methods they used before. This did not help make progress since I also had to work with their new experienced trauma which was already bigger than the universe.

If I am honest they were hesitant to hire me, since I graduated young from university and had no experience whatsoever. It took over a month and another month of internship to make them believe that I was cut out for the job. Even now they still don't fully trust me with their whole system. After all, I was a weak point for them.

Once I had the job I was more than thrilled. Finally able to do what I dreamed of since I was a kid. Even though there was still much to achieve. Of course, there is also the aspect of trying to make them stop their own ways for mine to finally be able to bloom just a little bit.

Seeing the number two pro hero walk up to me one day with his mighty steps that sounded like mountains crashing together I would lie if I said I didn't feel my heartbeat stop for a moment. Let alone when he talked to me for two seconds before giving me all I ever wanted with his angry and demanding attitude.

The moment I was granted this wish of mine I regretted it. Not because I stopped believing in my dream but because seeing the actual part of no one should know is frightening. Frightening might even be an understatement.

Their voice, movements, and the way their bodies looked were scaringly disgusting. The air smelt rotten and it was cold not only because of the temperature. People are being drugged out of their brains to keep them calm, they all look like corpses that have been exposed to warmth and air for too long.

From my plain observation, it even seemed like mutants are treated worse than the other prisoners. Which is a common thing even in normal standards of society. I cannot even blame them because mutants can be incredibly scary.

Tartarus. A name that ran a chill down each villain's spine. A place where the moment you step into you may never escape alive. Rumors spread across the underground like wildfire. About what will happen once you are captured and what you have to endure.

The villains that are imprisoned in Tartarus don't make the facility this scary I realized. Maybe the good people think that they are the reason for all this talk, but this is where they are wrong.

"Do whatever you want"

Just remembering those four simple words made my skin crawl. Goosebumps spread across my body. A sentence you might say to a child that you have no interest in dealing with. Or maybe to your trusted hairstylist.

But not to a licensed therapist who is capable of either destroying you or building you back up. Or to the guards who held the interrogation.

The meaning behind the words held something so incredibly heavy I wanted to forget every memory of someone saying these words, no matter who or when.

Because they meant it. They didn't care if I did my job right or not because I wasn't even supposed to be there. I could do whatever I wanted with the person in front of me. The people who have no way of defending themselves because of their chains and quirk suppressors.

-------------------------------------------------------

The air in the small bright room was filled with tension that I created by possibly the worst mistake ever. The guards who were still in the room with me looked at me confused. The only comfort I had at the moment was that the person I directed the mistake to couldn't answer at the moment. But even seeing his eyes shoot up was enough to make me rethink my life choices.

I can clearly feel my face losing its color out of shock from my totally unprofessional behaviour.

"you're so gorgeous"

Whatever ghost possessed me to say that clearly needed new activities to entertain themselves.

With the love for everything I possessed, I cleared my throat and sat down on the chair at the table they provided.

"You can take off the muzzle" my voice rang through the empty room with an echo. It left a chill in my body hearing it so metallic.

The guards hesitated for a moment before they actually started doing their job. They left the room when I gave them another glare, signaling to give us privacy like I asked them to.

Takami-San looked physically exhausted yet his eyes remained sharpness that you don't see very often in patients around here. He had a big grin on his face that I wished I could just wipe off of his face, even if I was the cause of this.

For some reason, he stayed silent. Maybe it was because he was already taunting me or he was waiting for me to introduce myself, I couldn't tell.

"I am Howashi Amaya, I will be your assigned therapist" I introduced myself, a genuine and respectful smile resting on my face.

"Therapist? Sounds fake, they don't care about how fucked up I am" he tilts his head to the side, eyeing me up and down like a bird.

"You're right they don't care, which is why they told me to do whatever I want"

For some odd reason, he seemed to tense up from these words, I wonder why.

"So I decided to just do what I am best at"

"Being a charming girl?"

At that, I took a deep breath. I scrunched my face and looked down at my empty sheet of paper.

When I looked back up he was grinning again god he looked so good stupid.

"Actually no. I meant I will try to help you"

"Help me get out of this shithole?"

"not really I am afraid"

"Ahh shucks"

I waited for a second before actually starting my usual procedure. Which on second thought seemed to be a little too late.

"How has it been?" I click my pen while looking at him, ready to write down whatever I could tell from his response.

"Really? Do you actually ask people this in fucking prison?" His voice sounds raspy.

"I didn't ask how you felt, just how it has been. You could answer nearly everything on it. How you feel, how the people treated you-"

"fucking brilliant, you should get a medal for being a smartass"

"Thank you for calling me smart, I appreciate it"

I silently tap my pen on the paper. Waiting for any kind of reaction from him. As the silence settled I started to notice some weird marks on his neck, they looked kinda infected.

"What do you have on your neck there?" I gestured with the pen on my own neck.

As soon as the question was spoken he tensed and looked more traumatized than a baby chicken that just discovered the big scary world. He broke off the eye contact he previously held with me. His body huddled up in an attempt to look smaller and protect himself, probably with his wings but he wasn't able to do it. Uncomfortable if I need to describe it in one word.

I probably don't need a deeper answer to figure out why they might be there. I silently stand up and walk around the table. He tried to move away from my hands when I reached out but because of the chains, he couldn't move far enough away.

Ever so gently I pulled the collar down and placed my hands on the marks. A familiar warmth spread across my hands and I started to feel how the infected wounds closed and healed.

When I was done I took a step back looking satisfied down at him before returning to my chair.

"Aye... Of course, the doctor has a healing quirk" he mumbles silently.

"Do you have anything you wanna talk about?"

" Aye, why are you here? Never heard of someone like you even working here. Doesn't seem like their style to hire a fucking therapist to fix me or anyone really"

"Good question" I nod in agreement "The answer is simple, I am the only therapist around here. That is why you've never heard of me. The last question shouldn't bother you too much after all you have been here for quite some time and are already in debt worth more than my monthly check"

"Have you ever seen a therapist before?" I ask with a light smile on my face.

"Do I fucking look like it?"

Silence.

"Besides I don't need another bitch asking me any more questions, I have the sparkler for that"

"Sparkler? You mean the number two?"

"Nah I mean the nice guard's captain obvious"

Another silence.

"And I don't need anyone knowing about the stuff I tell him, it's private business." He said in an oddly calm voice.

That certainly amazed me, since I have seen all the recordings of their talk, except the first one. So he wasn't aware that everyone was still listening in. Maybe this will one day be their downfall, why would he be so stern about keeping this a secret if it wasn't necessary.

"Why should no one listen in?"

"Because I said so"

This will be a lot of fun.

"Well with me you can talk about everything you share with Endeavour. No one is listening or watching. I like to keep my talks up to my hands, especially what I share with the government"

And that was not a lie.

-------------------------------------------------------

The room was filled with the sunlight shining through the window above the kitchen counter. The light shone through the leaves of the plants sitting at the window.

It was peaceful. The air was fresh and smelled faintly of fish and rice.

The only sound that destroyed the peace was the TV that played the news

Yet the only real news would be that someone escaped Tartarus and that still isn't public information. I wonder what will happen once the public knows.

Once I turned the TV off the silence that came with it was broken with a call. When I read who was calling I felt my mood drop just a little bit.

"Howashi speaking, what can I help you with today hottest hero in Japan"

"He escaped me!" The man yelled angrily, ignoring my terrible joke.

"who escaped you?" I ask grinning widely.

"Takami! That fucking mutant had his brat stealing my wife's necklace"

He has a child? Now that is a surprise. Even a bigger surprise was that he was stupid enough to let his child steal something from him.

"And how is that my problem?" I ask while standing up and staring out the window biting my nails.

"You worked with him for five years! You know exactly what is going on in his stupid birdbrain" Endeavour yelled. I am not even sure why he is yelling at me, I would hear him loud and clear with a normal tone.

"First of all that is extremely rude talking about mutants like that, I am one as well after all, and not even different from Shinyo. Second just because I worked with him does not mean I understand everything he does"

"But you know where he might go"

I nervously tap my fingers on the kitchen counter. Closing my eyes to contemplate if I actually know where he might go.

If I break it down it comes back to one thing, he has a child and is currently taking care of them. But knowing he has unfinished business makes it counterproductive to take care of a child who has to be at least five or four years old. He probably didn't even know the child existed since he never talked about having one, only about his wife Nitsuki.

Nitsuki? Right, he might be searching for her so he can give her the child. But why wasn't she with them?

"I might have an idea but to be honest it is not crystal clear that he is with her"

"Her?"

"Takami Nitsuki, his wife. If he has a child he will certainly not have any time to deal with it and will try to bring it back. The only question I still have is if she really left the child alone and why he has to bring it back"

"Those are two questions and I want you to come to my agency to discuss this further" he demanded. Almost sounded like I didn't have a choice.

"Alright, I can fly over, when?"

"Now" and he hung up the phone after that. Not even a goodbye.

Once I was dressed and didn't look like I just got out of bed. I walk outside of my apartment building taking off my suppressors.

Once I felt the warmth on my back and my wings regrowing I took a small jump before dashing into the air.

I just hope this story will end on a relatively good note.

[parameciam]

time for another one of my deeply personal autistic ramblings, feel free to skip since this one it's a bit heavy and depressing and it's mostly to get this out of my chest. a literal scream to the void. and really personal. and depressing.

so. everyone that follows me already knows I'm a late diagnosed autistic person, right? funny thing it's that because nothing ever goes right because my therapist had several tragedies happening in her personal life at the time, she never sent me the report with the details of my diagnosis xd that was two years ago but now that she's okay, she offered to do several sessions with me + adding several other mental health assessments to what we did in the past (for free, ofc. we've done half of our scheduled sessions)

it's not a surprise that the results are fundamentally that I'm pretty fucked up and need therapy. but it's still hard to have test results that confirm it, and hear a professional tell me that I need to heal a lot of trauma, and confirm that I have rejection sensitive dysphoria, and concerningly high levels of social anxiety, and depression.

and I know I need help, but I also know that I'm absolutely tired. so so so fucking exhausted of trying. and add to that I've never, ever in my life, had that internal drive and motivation to keep going and achieving things, I don't understand (not now and not in the past, probably never in the future either) why people always talks like living is so important and the greatest thing ever, I honestly am here against my will and I just keep going to avoid hurting the people around me.

but I don't have any goals or ambitions, and sometimes I think about it and feel shame. most of the time I barely feel like a human being. I have no idea wtf I'm doing here, and it's like I'm constantly pretending to be human, while actually being, idk, several traumas and a braincell in a trench coat xd

and starting another attempt at therapy would require not only money (that I don't want to use for that, and psychological/psychiatric help is so expensive! and the meds too -_-) but also to delve into so many painful things that I don't want to remove anymore.

I hate that I'm the one that has to gather all the broken pieces to mend myself. I hate how lonely I feel. I hate how much of a failure I feel I am. I hate that there's no actual way to feel better without fighting so many things first.

all I want is to stop feeling this broken and exhausted ;=; and maybe a hug and a pat in the head.

today was the first day of a music festival that my sister invited me to and I wasn't even able to enjoy it. concerts used to make me feel so alive and happy, but I'm feeling more and more like an empty husk these days. it's like I'm barely able to enjoy nice things anymore. and I know that's the depression and burnout.

the only thing that gives me some happiness is writing my silly little fics. my withered soul suddenly blooms when I write my hallucinations xd I keep adding wips to the pile to give my mind a sense of future, I guess. something that's an excuse to be excited about.

ahhh, i'm just rambling at this point. let's close this horrible rant with a song.

it's actually my favorite song ever, probably that says a lot about me ahaha

[liyazaki]

lessons in survival & innocence lost

I can turn it on be a good machine I can hold the weight of worlds if that's what you need I can do it- I'll get through it…

-human, christina perri

I knew GAP was smart. I knew the writers had an expert handle on the story they set out to tell, because they've been telling it exceptionally well.

I did not expect them to give us a scene that was almost brutal in how quietly and accurately it portrayed the lengths people will go to cope- to survive- living under abuse.

I wrote last week:

"when we first meet Sam, she just seems like a cold, aloof, ever-composed high achiever. the more we learn about her past, the clearer it becomes that this was by design, not by choice."

the writers had already given us enough to piece together why Sam is the way she is, but this scene really pulled back the curtain in heart-wrenching, crystal-clear fashion.

teenage Sam skips into the room, carefree & enjoying being with her sisters. she wistfully watches Nueng on the piano, playing with a borderline-terrifying smile on her face.

Nueng catches Sam smiling & asks:

Sam responds simply, innocently: because Nueng is, of course. if her sister is happy, so is she.

a quick note on Nueng's smile: Mind really going in with her facial expressions here felt so intentional. it's obvious to us that she's forcing it, but Sam in her youthful naivete has no idea. she still sees a smile for what it is, for what it should be: joyful, happy, and most importantly- honest.

it was such a smart move on the writer's part, adding to the weight of the moment that comes next.

Mind's expressions here are the definition of "a picture's worth a thousand words."

the smile fades away, replaced by a melancholy, world-weary expression. like she knows what she's about to do, and the effect that it'll have on Sam, but that it's for her own good.

right or wrong, cruel or kind- in her mind, it'll help Sam survive.

Song pipes in first, though: she knows why Nueng is smiling like that, and what it really means.

Nueng explains that it's a ruse: she's actually under a lot of stress, so she's tricking her own body by smiling.

Nueng’s explanation (understandably) isn't enough for Sam. she doesn't have any concept yet of faking emotions, let alone why anyone would do such a thing- so she questions Song about it, too.

Sam’s still processing Song’s response when Nueng walks up, placing a gentle hand on her head. the weariness is back as she tells Sam she can do this, too.

the look of wide-eyed, innocent worry on Sam’s face when she asks “how?” nearly broke my heart in two.

this is all new to Sam, but she trusts her sisters. this must be an important thing that she learn to do, right? and these behaviors have to be learned- either out of necessity or through loving, misguided instruction, like we're witnessing here.

it was like watching a slow-motion car crash: you know the impact is coming and it’s going to be awful, but you can’t look away.

I desperately wanted to shield Sam in this moment- to keep her from learning how to twist and contort herself into something she isn’t to survive the environment she was born into.

Sam parrots back Nueng’s advice at first before confusedly asking, “what if I’m happy? can I smile then?”

Nueng doesn’t hesitate: “if you smile, you lose.” and I’m on my knees, thoroughly gut-punched.

the final nail in the coffin: Nueng telling Sam that she wants her to do that.

Freen then gives us a masterclass in loss of innocence via expression alone. we can see Sam’s light diminishing right in front of our eyes, fading into the schooled, emotionally numb look we know so well for the first time.

it’s equal parts brilliant and unbearably awful.

I can fake a smile I can force a laugh I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask give you all I am…

this scene powerfully illustrated the pain desperate people will force themselves to endure in order to survive, while passing that brokenness down to the next generation. beyond the inexcusable abuse that prompted it, the real tragedy is that it’s being passed down out of love.

there was zero expository dialogue here. witnessing Sam being brought into the warped, broken fold 'for her own good' was plenty.

it was paradise lost; it was the twilight of innocence; it was the continuation of the cycle. and it made Sam’s openly-expressive, incandescently emotional vows in the wedding scene all the more meaningful.

love, in the end, finally broke the wheel.

side note- not to nitpick but I'm gonna: I really wish they went with the actress who played young Sam for this scene rather than Freen. Sam clearly knew how to force an expression much earlier, so having Freen play this scene felt like a continuity error, even though she knocked it out of the park.

exhibit a ⬇️

[not-goldy]

Goldy i am sad. I am heart broken. As much as i love Tae and he is my bias. I am Vmin bias and follow ur blog quietly. I am so happy for his upcoming album and all the mvs that will be released but my heart aches for Jimin. When he wanted mv for every song on his album he was told its impossible by Hye but now look at them. Why are they treating both my bias different. Why is Jimin the one who is always suffering ? Do they want to divide us ? And why are all the members so quiet ? Do they not want Jimin to have what he deserves ? Do they not support each other ? Why is Jimin still in Hybe or why is he not doing anything about it. 😢😢

Hi there vminer, okay but your "Why are they treating both my bias different" hit me in the chest😭😭😭😭

YES WHY WHYY WHYYYYY HYBE😭😭😭😭😭

Look at him. He doesn't deserve any of this😭😭😭

What's worse

Hold on that's not the worse part

Please in which universe would Suga ever ever tell PARK FREAKING JIMIN he sucks and they will kick him out of the group if he doesn't try hard to deliver. THE FUCK DELUSIONAL WHAMY BARMY SICK PHYCHO REDUNCULOUS NONSENSE IS THAT.

WHAT GOES ON!!!!!!!

I don't know about you but I'm really over this whole INSECURE ARTIST TROPE they keep recycling about JM I'm just- I'm tired.

It's never about a young man who's hard work, effort and dedication inspired 6 boys to work hard and strive to achieve his level of excellence. It's never about how the last member of the group felt he needed to push himself to earn his place in a group that created a loving and enabling environment for him to find himself and thrive SOAR ABOVE THEM ALL TO BECOME A LEGACY A ROOKIE BIBLE.

I hate this place.

Thanks for ruining Yoonmin for me thanks a lot

And as if it can't get any worse hybe goes and give V 5 MVs. 555555555555555555555555555

Jimin never catches a break. Just watch ppl twist this into a vmin fanwar. If we speak out we are jealous if we don't we are cowards. We never catch a break out here.

I know exactly how you feel. You just never know whether to be happy for one or feel sad and bad for the other or do both. It's such a dilemma 😫

For JM, I try not to overly victimize him because you just know how much of this is actually his decision and choice to listen to and respect Hybe in such matters in spite of all the screwing they be screwing him.

but you just can't fathom some of these things really. You can't.

I try to wrap my head around this and I can't.

Like would it hurt to treat them equally? Would it? Would hybe spontaneously combust poof into thin air if it actually treated these men EQUALLY?? Equal resources, Equal attention, equal opportunity, equal everything! Geez!

I don't really understand this either Anon especially when they know damn well fans Will forsho talk. Like who are they kidding, of course we will drag their edges off for this.

Why isn't Jimin leaving is such a good question. Some one give him the mic 🎤 he needs to speak into the microphone cos I'm not understanding shit either. Just pack your bags, left foot infront of the right foot and walts your way out of that hybe hell gates. It's that simple.

It's starting to feel like a toxic relationship to me where he's the member that's too trusting of Hybe hence gets the most screws to his ass.

There are times I wonder if when he talks about not getting voice training or the MVs he wanted or this or that- I wonder if it's mistranslation or that he might have miscommunicated but we all know the painstaking care and thought JM puts into his choice of words in order not to be misunderstood.

But I also wonder, if they simply couldn't do all the MVs for JM because they had already burned through his budget or did not give him a huge budget to begin with- so I ask, how much budget did they allocate each member. Like we need to know cos clearly they working with different budgets here.

Also, we don't know how each member chose to spend their budgets- Jimin had western collabs, shot parts of his MVs in the US. The directors he worked with were top tier, the dance crew- That tend to be costly especially if they paying in dollars. For Tae I know he's into minimalist productions, I don't expect much dancing and heavily choreographed performances. I'm guessing some of those MVs are going to be like winter bear. Don't really know but Layover has that type of vibe mi feel

If not then boy would all hell break loose💀

I'm not going to jump into conclusions for now. I mean it's not like Tae did anything wrong in getting those 5 MVs. It's even possible they learned from their mistake with Jimin💀

With Hybe as much as I disagree vehemently with some of the things they do, one thing about them I admire is their propensity to learn, grow, adapt and adjust where their money is concerned. Trust, they not about to fumble the bag🤣

We saw what they did with Jack in the box. We saw them tweak something with each members release. Perhaps Jm speaking up got them quivering and they decided to give Tae as many mvs as he wants. Perhaps they learning from the successes of Jm and the others. I mean Jks song had so many versions, I lost count and we saw how good those numbers were. This is the last Maknae to go out-bet your sweet behind they gonna go all out on him. I think Hybe is maximizing it's profits and scaling. The good thing about having a seven member group, you get to lern 7 times over. Truth is we would never know the reason. And we shouldn't jump into conclusions.

With time we will get to understand why certain things happen.

What I don't want to hear is ppl saying Hybe is favoring Tae over Jimin- I don't want to hear that.

I WILL BEAT ANYONE WHO SAYS THAT WITH A STICK

The company has put Tae through shit as well. On God. I Swear to God they have.

THEY AIN'T FAVORING HIM FOR SHIT

BOTH HIM AND JIMIN PLAYING A LOSING GAME OTHER THERE.

Let's remain calm and positive and give hybe the benefit of the doubt. If they were that bad Jimin would be the first to go💀

I'm happy for Tae. I'm excited for his release can't wait to see what has in store for us on layover

My advice to you would be learn to prioritize. Its the only way you can have some sanity stannng two people at once.

As much as I hate what they doing to Jimin over there, I think this is Taehyung's time to shine😔

Let's give him that.

I think your heart is in the right place and you are definitely right to bring this up. It's not fair to JM. And it's equally not fair to Tae people use him to find dissatisfaction with their favs.

Whatever limited resources Jm had, he set the bar so high with his achievements. And even though they keep rigging the game and moving the goal post, perhaps Tae needs all our support to beat them at their own game. It's BTS against the world, not BTS against each other.

We don't know what really happened and I hope one day JM will turn on live throw everybody under the bus. I want to know how he feels about these things. Just throw hybe under the bus with a tell all episode on weverse. Let the cat out of the dirty bag and set fire to the company 😊

I'm waiting patiently till V is done with his release so we have enough data to compare and contrast and then we will rain hell fire on Hybe's shady ass💀

For now let's be happy for Tae. Let's be excited for him and wait with gleeful anticipation for his Album- We did that for JM. Tae deserves this too🥺

Don't let anything distract you for now- focus on Tae.

As for them haters,

JMs KARMA IS COMING FOR THEM

On God

[sidebaxolotl]

By request, rebloggable version of my thoughts on whether sometimes God will afflict non-believers to get them to repent and turn to Him:

A couple caveats before I explain this:

1. I do not believe every instance of a nonbeliever suffering is inherently a direct punishment from God and i would strongly caution people from using this logic 99% of the time--we live in a fallen world and the consequence of that is pain and brokenness for everyone regardless of faith or lack there of 2. However, as believers we do have assurance from God that whatever pain or brokenness we do go through is 100% not a punishment from God. We will absolutely incur pain and brokenness in our lives but God has promised to use it for our good and His glory (Romans 8:1, Romans 8:32, Romans 8:28). 3. The original question was in reference to a specific situation in which i am privy to a lot of information on a very personal and long term-level. In this particular situation I absolutely believe this is what is happening but would normally not come to this conclusion (in fact it took me a long time to come to this conclusion and even now I am hesitant to declare it) and again would caution people to pray and meditate on things VERY CAREFULLY before coming to this conclusion in yours/others' lives let alone sharing it with them/others

I would say there is biblical precedent for this though, like Saul of Tarsus pre-conversion. God had to physically blind him and knock him off of his horse before he was humbled enough to stop his persecution and give his life to Christ. Or even figures like Pharaoh who let his people suffer through terrible plagues before he was humbled enough by his own suffering to let the Jewish people flee Egypt. This last part is really hard to understand if you haven't fully internalized the character of God and His sovereignty but I'm going to try and explain this too because this is the most important part and the crux of this explanation:

God is good. Like He is everything good and just and holy and kind and perfect. We need him more than anything else in this world. He is the highest good that can ever be achieved. He is not like human beings with flawed and selfish motives. If you told me that any human being in your life: parent, sibling, friend, spouse etc. deliberately let you suffer so that you would have to rely on them totally i would call them crazy and abusive--these are flawed, and sinful human beings. To do something like that would require a large amount of pride and delusion on an unreal level. They aren't perfect, they dont have all the answers, they are biased, no human being could ever be the highest good in someone elses life like that.

But that isn't God. He is good and perfect. He does know all the answers, He is not biased, He always makes the right decisions. He is without flaw. He is your creator and sustainer and is thus the only thing even remotely qualified to be the highest good in your life. Doing whatever it takes to get you to see Him directly is a net benefit TO YOU. You can take some comfort in suffering and affliction particularly as a believer because God cares enough to use it to help you get closer to Him and His perfect love and care rather than let you continue in ignorance unafflicted.

[zhuhongs]

well I thought I was going to fall asleep early, but it seems like I have too many things keeping me up and since its too cold to sit at my desk and write at my journal this thought is going on the internet. Tl:dr: tomorrow is my birthday. send me 50 dollars. i am going to bed. gn

Yea, recently everything just feels so.... much. Like I'm always at a state of just slightly overwhelmed that makes it feel usless to do anything. Like I'm worried about money, and I know that I have credit so I can use it and I have things that I need and things I want that I shouldn't deny myself of just because things are a bit trying (like food I want, things I need to fix). But then I can't help but have that internalized poor mantra of "why are u buying this when u have bills to pay?" which is dumb bc I deserve to use what little money I have in making my life more enjoyable . But I'm also like. sage did U really need to upgrade your phone or buy an interview shirt or hair dye? Like, no not technically, but these are things I should do to just make myself feel better. I don't want to be using a broken phone, might as well upgrade when theres a promotion that sure makes it hard right now but is a smart idea in the long run. And yes while I didn't need the dye or the shirt - it will make me more confident in my interview so I can get a higher paying job and not be surrounded by Stuff all day causing me to want to constantly buy things bc I wont be in a store 8hrs a day 5 days a week. So like, yes you do need those things and its negligible when I consider the credit I have. And even if I have some debts, I know that no one can bail me out becausemy family is in the same situation. And I have time. I just started working. Its a rough month, and the fact that I have a trip planned makes it even harder. Because that means more money. But if I always deny myself the opportunity to go and do things bc I don't have the money then I'd never leave my house ever, and thats how I grew up and I was miserable and the money will be gone and the month will be tight anyways so just go anddon't think about it. But I do think about it, because it's hard, and I work so hard my entire life, for what? To pay rent?? other people my age get to say the money they make and build a life yet I was dealt a shitty hand and have had to spend my time working for something people are given. And it hurts bc I've wasted so much time and worked so much andhave 9 dollars to my name and so much debt. But I will find a way. ANd it will all be paid off. I don' know how but I've done this same thing before, cried about it, and went to work the next day and figured it out. And my mother has done this everyday for the past 30 years, and I feel so sorryforher because I know it's hard. And she deserves so much more and I want to give it to her, and I'm not even 23. And tomorrow is my birthday and I have to go work. Even if I called out I don't know what it would help. And I want to go out with my friends and have a good time but I need to paymy car and I need to pay my bills. And I work 9 to 5 and when I get home I have to walk my dog and make dinner. And it's cold. And by the time all of that is done I feel like I have no time to make art or practice chinese or do any of my hobbies and better myself. I''m so tired that all I do is sleep. And I feel myself falling into old habits. And I hate it, i hate it, I am trying so hard to clawmy way out of it. It's starting with a simple routine. Even if it hasn't gotten to the point where I sit and draw or read or write every day. At least I do the dishes when I finish eating, brush my teeth twice a day, foldmy clothes, make my bed, stay off my phone during my breaks, and pack a lunch. Even if that's something I should have achieved long ago, I didn't. So now I need to do that before I can learn how to do hwat I want sadly, because dreamings costs money and dreaming requires habits. AAAAAA. okay. I need to go to bed bc I need to be up at 8am to get ready for work. Happy bday to me.

[wordsgood]

message in a skull - original fiction ficlet

the working title for whatever this story is going to end up being is currently "not five broken blades," which is a book that I did not finish but it's the last book I had where various characters who didn't know each other were gathered together to achieve Something, so it's first in my mind. I genuinely have no idea what's going on except for what's in the snippet, and that there's angels and demons and magic. that said, I really liked freewriting this as a way to get some of the ideas out in the open. it's minimally edited atm.

Aobin watches the dirt flying out of the hole being carved into the otherwise pristine gravegrass. A clump of it lands on his shoe and burns away on contact. The dingy smell drifts on a cool midnight breeze, dispersing into the autumn air. Down in the hole, the shovel which had once flashed in their narrowly focused lamplight is too dirt-crusted to so much as twinkle as it arcs up and drops back down. Each whumpf of the shovel into wet packed earth is perfectly synchronized to an accompanying grunt of effort.

“Are we close?” Aobin asks, because he knows it will piss her off.

“‘We,’” Cate grunts, and the next flying clump of dirt comes dangerously near his knees. “You mean am I close.”

“It’s a joint effort.”

“Not from down here it’s not. If you’re so fired up why don’t you—“

Thump.

“Ah!” Cate yelps in triumph. “Got her!”

Aobin crouches at the edge of the hole, red-gloved hands hovering just over the edge. “Get her open, I want to see.”

“She’s not uncovered yet. Give me a minute. Or better yet, take the reins.” Cate wipes her sweaty forehead on her equally dirty sleeve. She always wears a leather apron to midnight jobs, but it only protects her blouse front. It doesn’t even protect most of her trousers. But she insists on it, so Aobin doesn’t fight it. It’s her laundry.

Aobin waves a benevolent hand. “Far be it from me to steal your moment of victory.”

Sneering up at him, Cate adjusts her grip on the shovel and gets back to work.

The graveyard is still — supremely still — and the cloud cover ensures that the moon is a dim glow, nothing more, and the stars are darkened completely. Their lamp is the only thing that guides Cate’s digging, but Aobin doubts she needs even that much. She’s very skilled at this part of her job. She doesn’t require Aobin’s help yet. His part comes in later, once the coffin is open. Technically, she doesn’t need him at all. But she says he greases the squeaky wheels quicker than she can. It’s about as close to a compliment as she ever gets.

Like most memorial grounds on this side of town, the graveyard is barren of trees, shrubbery, or even upright grave markers. All the plaques are sunk into the ground, tidied by diligent groundskeepers who ensure no moss or grass gets any funny ideas. It’s a flat span of land, and Cate and Aobin would stick out like a couple of spare limbs if it weren’t for Aobin’s work. Invisibility’s not so hard, though, when you’ve got the right philosophy about it. The sleeping draughts in the graveyard watch’s tankards don’t hurt, either.

There’s a thunk next to his shoes, and Aobin dances a step to the side to avoid the shovel’s sharp edge. He paid some of Cate’s good money for these boots, when he discovered that his usual pair wouldn’t do topside. “Cate,” he sighs, but, presumably, she doesn’t hear him over the sound of wood splintering and peeling apart. Soon, chunks of thin panels shoot up to join the shovel. “Terrible taste,” Aobin says to himself. “Least you could do is—“

Cate shrieks. It’s her angry shriek, so it doesn’t worry Aobin until she shouts, “She’s empty!”

“Empty?” Aobin repeats, and reaches over to angle the lamp into the hole. Six feet down, Cate is squatting on a shelf of packed earth, over the split-open coffin. Her hands are almost equally broken open, clusters of cuts and abrasions leaking fluid onto what little is left of the top half of the coffin lid, and down onto the skeleton within. At least the skeleton is in one piece — though that, judging by Cate’s furious expression, may only be a temporary mercy.

When Aobin aims the light down at the skeleton, he can see that Cate is right. The skeleton is bare, aside from some worn, faded scraps of fabric beneath it, clinging to some of the joints between its bones. There are no jewels glinting at the coffin base, where its ears used to be, no chain left dangling around the spinal column, no gold frogs sitting tarnished atop the fabric scraps. This is not the grave of a widow who died wealthy and greedy. This is the grave of a nobody. A beloved maid, perhaps, or a loyal steward.

“Now, Cate,” Aobin starts, but Cate has already reached into the grave, gotten her smeary hands on the skeleton’s skull, and, just before he can suggest otherwise, she rips it free from its body. Bones clatter, dust rises, the jaw drops open, and Aobin curses. “This is extremely bad form.”

Cate growls. To Aobin’s alarm, she sits back on her ankles and cocks her arm back, preparing to hurl the skull out of its grave and somewhere into the darkness beyond.

“Cate Labyrinthine!” Aobin barks before she can do something that will make his boss very, very unhappy. Unhappier. “Put that down and use your brain.”

It clearly takes some effort, but Cate lowers her arm, though she doesn’t let the skull go. Her thumbs probe into the left eye socket. “Someone lied to us.”

“Or they were mistaken.” Aobin hates having to be the voice of reason, and he hates even more that, after all this time, he’s become very good at it. “Or we were mistaken and our lady is one hole over. Or perhaps we were lied to, and all that’s left to do is laugh and go back to Sidedown and, perhaps, break a few kneecaps.”

Cate glances up at him through her greasy bangs. She’s still running her thumb around the socket edge.

“What we don’t do,” Aobin continues, “is desecrate the bodies of human beings who, no matter where they end up, have guardians.”

Cate’s jaw works side to side. “I want those gemstones,” she says, her voice low.

“I know. And you’ll get those gemstones. But not here, and taking our your pique on Mistress Maidservant won’t help.” He sighs and lightens his tone. “What would she say if she saw her poor bones being dissected by a grubby delinquent hellcat?”

“I don’t—“ Cate tries to say.

The skull begins to scream.

“Waaagh!” Cate yelps, dropping the skull back into the coffin and leaping to her feet. From the skull’s empty sockets, a sudden burning violet light beams out and upward, all but obliterating the light from the lamp. The screaming intensifies as Cate scrambles up the side of the grave, dirt cascading down from her flailing feet.

Aobin barely notices. The scent and fog of magic, pure human magic, has drowned out every one of his senses. Those two beams of light have become his whole world. He should move to help Cate out, he knows, but he’s transfixed, pinned in place like a fly in a web.

He knows this taste. He knows this scream. He knows this magic.

“Cate,” he tries to say, but isn’t sure if he’s managed it before the light fades to a more manageable glow, though it still pours like lava from the skull’s eyes, and the screaming finally stops. And then—

“Cate Labyrinthine,” the skull says, sounding quite confident that it will be heard and by Cate herself, though she’s already at least five yards away from the grave, leaving him in his trance. How touching, Aobin thinks. He sees her stop in her tracks, though, and slowly turn back to the grave, full and glowing with purple light. The skull continues matter-of-factly, “This is a dead-woman’s-switch.”

“The shit,” Cate says, but Aobin can hear dreadful curiosity gnawing at the edge of her voice. She creeps back towards the grave edge, her chest rising and falling with quick, panicked breaths, but her stained hands are perfectly steady.

“Oh,” Aobin says, the skull’s message finally making it through. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Cate asks, but the skull, rolling around the bottom of the coffin, rights itself and aims its beams directly into Cate’s face.

“Heidi Fake has died under unformalized circumstances,” the skull says, and Aobin lets out a bark of laughter. “She has left instructions for certain of her acquaintances to assemble and ascertain the cause of her death, and to disperse whatever vengeance may be appropriate.”

Cate crouches, staring down into the coffin. She barely winces in the light; her pupils have contracted like a cat’s, elongating down the center. “How did she find me?” she murmurs.

The skull doesn’t answer. “To this end, you will meet Heidi Fake’s chosen accomplices in one fortnight at Robin Redbreast Town—“

“Where the fu—“

“— at the tavern Iason’s Sail. If you are not able to make the trip within one fortnight, please send a courier to alert Heidi Fake’s chosen accomplices so that they may wait for your arrival.”

The skull goes quiet. The light doesn’t fade. Aobin waits for the light to turn on him. It does not.

“Cate,” the skull says, but the voice is different this time. It's Heidi’s voice. She sounds old, yet still very much herself. He always said she’d been crafted from Baltana’s iron instead of Ressenth’s carbon. He hadn’t been with her her when she knew Cate, but he recognizes the care with which Heidi pronounces Cate’s name. If he didn’t know Heidi Fake better, he would call it tenderness. “I hate to ask this of you. Not because I think you can’t handle it, but because I think you might enjoy it. You’ll be the knife’s tip of this little expedition, and I know how much the others will need you. You may be the only one who can do what’s necessary to solve my problem. But please, Cate: think of me when you bare your teeth. You may not care what happens to you Sidedown, but I do. Avenge my life but keepsake your soul. I know you of all people can walk that edge; I hope that you will remember to try.”

A pause. Then: “I loved you, Cate, and, gods willing, I still do.”

The light in the skull’s sockets fades. It rolls to one side, no longer lock-focused on Cate’s twisted face. The skull and the skeleton and the grave are quite normal now.

Aobin can’t look at Cate. He isn’t sure if he’s kept his composure, at least to a sufficient degree not to raise her suspicions.

“So she’s finally dead, huh,” Cate says, but her shoulders are hunched, and now her hands are unsteady, shaking as she clenches them into fists. “Wonder what did her in.”

Aobin stands. He feels the magic’s afterimage in his knees, in all the other pesky little human joints this body is swaddled in. “I suppose we can find out.”

“‘Can’?” Cate says. “Oh, we will.” She looks up at him again. “I mean, if you want to come. I’ve told you about Heidi, it’s crazy that she could be dead — I don’t know what could kill someone like that — so if you want to go back Sidedown instead, that’s fine.” She shrugs. “But I could use the help. Or at least an ally, if there are some other shitheads involved, too.”

There is nothing that Aobin would rather not do than play unnamed lackey for Heidi Fake’s posthumous murder mystery investigation. He smiles at Cate, brilliantly. “Oh, I couldn’t miss an opportunity to learn more about your dear old mentor. Where else would I rather be?”

[anagramtransitory]

15. At the end of the day, all I’m ever really gonna do is what I put my heart into. And while my heart and mind are filled with anger at the rest of the world I can’t focus on myself like I deserve to be able to. Some people only figure that out when it’s too late, some people don’t care. The power and intensity of things I put my heart and mind into is really something to behold. And when I don’t care, I don’t care at all. So anybody that wants anything from me should make sure to not do anything to signal to my my heart shouldn’t be in my work anymore. It’s happened recently, it’ll happen often, but usually, work is worth putting your heart and mind and body and soul into, because anything you put love into you’ll get good results out of. With myself, good results are infinitely possible. With people who treat others like servants: good results are not possible at all in any way that’s worth it and genuine. Again: I don’t get roped into things, into states of effort. It’s a conscious daily choosing to hold ideas in my head or to discard them and take up others. I know I am nothing to them, but I am everything to myself. If I ever want anything I’ll go get it for myself. If I ever have a problem I’ll fix it myself. There is nothing I can do about other people. I can only ever control myself. I can only ever parent myself. My life will never be fun or easy, but that’s what I’ve chosen for myself. I’ve seen fun and easy lives, and I don’t want that for myself, there’s enough of those around to get you sick of anything fun or easy. Here’s what it will be: a continual improvement, a lifetime of gathering cool things and information, a lifetime of giving and getting kindness, a lifetime where I only get stronger in the face of challenges which I conquer alone. Of being tall, and strong, and able/willing to help with a lot of problems others can’t/aren’t, and not owing anybody money, and having insurance, and having all my teeth, and having non-broken glasses, and knowing and trusting myself and fixing myself on a level few people who are scared/financially unable to be alone ever do. I don’t need easy and fun. I don’t want easy and fun. And anyone that demands my life be that way to stick around in it isn’t my type at all, truly. I’m never gonna sell my soul, and I’ll never be in a position to have to anyways. It’ll be a lifetime of being misunderstood at first. It’ll look like I’m cold and obsessed with money. And I will be cold and obsessed with money. But also, I’m powered by love and live based on a philosophy of kindness=strength and kindness/love=meaning. Right now, I have the gift of obvious problems. Soon, I’ll miss it, when people think I’m capable of way more than I am, or that I’m way more normal than I am. That’ll be a hard one to explain: “oh no, I’m not normal, I’m normal but in an abnormal way with abnormal methods of achieving at appearance of functionality.” That’ll sound like a normal thing to do. Fake it till you make it and all that normal stuff. Not: “I am basically insane and have imaginary parents and have so many issues that would horrify you, I’ve seen the worst things in the world with these same eyes and also the best things, I am very intense very large very androgynous and the least stable normal person you’ll be able to find around here by here. If my soul isn’t in every little thing I do I shut down. I live in silence as I have for many many years. (:”People…do not care. I could say all that and people would be unfazed. That’s their problem. They should be fazed, I am a walking possible large problem that doesn’t go away that they don’t want if I decide I don’t like them. I am very friendly. It will hurt when I shut any possible relationship down over and over for years. I will want it to hurt. People are really bothered by conflict that doesn’t get resolved in a way that I am not. I am a snapping turtle. You should be fazed, or have heard anything I just said, if I explain why I shouldn’t be asked to do normal woman things, and I’m being serious. You know who will always listen, though?

[shaineinin]

The End of the Beginning

a self-obituary

A tombstone of a person scares me the most. Because it is an indication that a life that once on earth has ended again. A mark that one has fallen in the midst of the fog of life. However, what will I do myself if my tombstone will be the one welcoming me at my door? What will be my reaction? How will I endure that kind of scene for the longest time I shall ever know?

Shaine G. Capua, born on ****, died on ****, you will always be remembered. And we shall never forget the words rest in peace. Those are the things I will be reading if ever I am in front of my tombstone today. I never visualized how it looks because I know that its physicality will reflect on my economic status once again. If it is too pompous, maybe I died with lots of money. If it looks ordinary, then maybe I am just a normal person with nothing but loans. 

Disregarding that matter, I know that no matter what economic or social status I have in the future before I die, I assure that I have lived my purpose in life. Because as I believed so, I would’ve changed the world to a better place if I could whenever an opportunity knocks on my door. I would everyday, try to touch someone’s life with kindness and generosity that the world is lacking today. I would channel the heavy weight of cracks in my heart to help people, heal their body and mind, and let them stand for themselves. 

I want people to remember me as a person who put other people’s state first before mine. I want my loved ones to recollect my memories as someone who peels oranges for people so they could enjoy and eat it without minding any trouble. An athlete who has the highest honor for sportsmanship to other athletes who share the same dreams with her. A student-journalist who unravels merely the truth and nothing but the truth. A student and a classmate who engraved a legacy of being good, smart, and cheerful. A loving and caring daughter, big sister, and a girl who gave everything she can for the sake of her family. 

Yet, if I were to be asked, “Who am I?”, with no masks, costumes, or fakes, not my titles, achievements, or praises; just me. I will gratefully answer that I am just a plain black and white person who only wanted to live a good and comfortable life ever since the beginning. I have always dreamt of ending the cycle of poverty in our bloodline. The leech that keeps on sucking us down. Every bit of our blood, sweat, and tears that it keeps on slurping on us to make us suffer more. One thing I kept on praying for is for my siblings to never experience what I had gone through to survive. 

So yes, by constantly saying yes was what cost me to survive. Yes, I have been soft like a gooey marshmallow exposed with fire to be smores, to be able to satisfy other people. To give them credit for what they helped me. To deal with the pressure that keeps on bugging my head. However, that was also my mistake. I became too complacent to things. Too dependent on the word yes that all of the responsibilities piled up and gave me a slap of reality that was so hard to avoid. 

Maybe, in my next life, I would learn how to negate. To refuse people. To disapprove of ideas that will not give me peace and will never help me have growth. To deny responsibilities that I can’t handle. Because saying yes has been too easy for me, when my no’s could’ve been more understandable. 

The people who have held my back ever since. The support, trust, and love they have given me and boosted me was not wasted. I will be missed, I suppose. But these people will also be treasured deep within the corners of my heart. This lifetime was not so good to me, but it lightened a path and made me walk past through wisdom, eminent, and goodwill that I will carry on to the next life I will hold if given a chance.

Without a doubt, I’ve led my life with a league of one’s own. I know that the loves of my life will be reading my epitaph with heavy hearts, flood of tears, and broken souls– “Wind, gentle evergreen, to form a shade. Around the tomb where Shaine is laid. Sweet ivy wind thy boughs and intertwine. With blushing roses and the clustering vine. Then shall thy lasting leaves, with beauties hung. Prove grateful emblems of the lays she sung.” But they shall remember that my goneness is not the end of the world and the pause of their own lives.

It may be an end to some, but it is also a beginning for a few.

[polarisdelphi]

Another character sheet I did of another character from the ~thing~ I'm writing: Elisabeta!

Like I said before, the art, the design, the writing, the character is all mine. And I'm pretty happy on how she turned out in the drawing, because I had a very specific look for Elisabeta and, luckily, I managed to achieve it *cries in artist tears*

Her looks, actually, was very much inspired by Gigi Goode. Gigi is very beautiful and terribly talented, she was the only face that popped up in my mind while writing a female powerhouse that is Elisabeta.

Also, Elisabeta is my first trans ftm character and I was so happy she managed to come out as a fully-fledged character rather than a staple - she actually matters a lot to the story and now I'm so attached I want to give her more book time :')

And I'm only saying this because, I dunno, I don't like writing diverse characters only to fill a quota. I want their characteristics to matter to them, but I don't want that to be all they are - I hope I'm making sense here. I was glad to be able to make a character that reflects her character, hopes and dreams just like any other person and any other characters - and not another one of those "here, have a diversity character whose personality is only that and who'll disappear without any actual consequences to the story"

More on her and the story below the cut!

Olympia is a city that will eat you alive if you give it the chance. Many survive in it, but few actually make it.

The Wolves of the Kárpati are known and dangerous, being one of the most feared mobsters in Olympia. They are a family and can - and will - protect themselves and eliminate everything in their way. The Alpha of the Wolves, their boss, is always one of the most respected - both by law enforcement or mercs trying to make it in the city of broken dreams.

Elisabeta assumed as the Alpha right after the passing of her father, having to prove herself fit to be the first woman to ever lead the Kárpati - born as a boy, she always hid her true self while competing with her vicious brother, Omor, who would take over; having to admit who she really was and face her father, fighting for his approval, wasn't easy - but, in the end, he died happy knowing his beloved daughter would be a perfect Alpha and make the Kárpati thrive.

Omor didn't accept things as well, though. Even if his sister is Alpha, he doesn't lose the opportunity to sting her with misgendering or bringing up her previous past when she wasn't really herself. Elisabeta only accepts this behaviour because of their sibling bond, but, after she learns horrifying truths from Omor's daughter, her most beloved person in the world that she loves as her own daughter, Elisabeta is ready to show how vicious and merciless she can be.

"I don't enjoy violence for violence's sake. But you hurt me - or worse, you hurt one of my own - I will watch you bleed slowly at my feet, with a smile on my face, having you beg for mercy even when you know, deep in your heart, there is none inside my own." - Elisabeta, sitting by her desk, regal posture, cup of tea on her table, watching you with a glint of fire in her glowing red eyes.

----

I am still learning how to write trans characters, though. if something isn't well written or too vague and seeming like I'm glossing over, please, feel free to tell me. I'm always willing to learn and I'm still developing my character writing skill!

(alsoooo English isn't my first language, so yeaaaah, it'll be nice to know if some ideas aren't as well articulated as I thought HAHAHA)

[crowfeatherquill]

Someone and Something

“So...I’m gonna assume you’re aware that breaking and entering is illegal.”

“Call a squad car, then, officer.”

Rowan leaned heavily against the counter in his kitchen and observed the woman that had, for all intents and purposes, broken into his apartment. She was bold -- that much was obvious -- standing near the window in a bright red leather coat, with not a hint of reticence on her face. She gave off the distinct impression that she was daring him to do something she knew he wouldn’t do.

He sighed.

“Great. So long as we’re on the same page about that, who are you, exactly?”

“Kit Carlisle.”

Rowan blinked.

“The reporter? What...could you possibly be expecting to achieve here? There are avenues for interviews that don’t involve--”

“I’m not here for a fucking interview, Grey. I’m here because the word on the street is that you’re pretty on-purpose bad at your job. And the fact that you haven’t been publicly crucified and fired over it yet means you might actually be pretty good at getting away with it, too.”

This caught Rowan’s attention. His posture tensed and he inclined his head just slightly. If she was here to blackmail him, she’d made an interesting choice of target, all things considered. But...she didn’t seem the type for that. Which made him all the more curious what she did want.

“Alright,” he kept his tone low and even, attempting to de-escalate. “So...what?”

“So,” she moved over to sit on his couch, which, again, bold, “I need help. From someone who actually gives a shit and might even have the resources to do something without getting immediately arrested.”

“And your best plan was to break into a police officer’s apartment?” Rowan’s tone had gone entirely flat. “Have you considered, I dunno, filing a report?”

Kit just stared at him. Alright, maybe not the strongest argument he’d ever made. Likely any problem involving the words ‘immediately arrested’ would get buried nigh immediately as soon as it was entered into the system. Even he had to admit that. He scrubbed his hand down his face.

“Alright. Okay. Point. What exactly is it that you think I’ll be able to help you with?”

“I think my friend’s in over his head. And I can’t find anyone else who’s willing to go with me on it.”

Rowan nodded, slowly.

“Alright. And what gives you that impression?”

“Off the record?”

“I mean I haven’t called this in yet. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

This time, it was her turn to sigh. She leaned forward and her gaze got distant for a moment -- just long enough for Rowan to get the impression that this was actually as serious as she was making it out to be -- before she seemed to come back to herself. Her expression set into something hard, determined, even as she gripped her hands a little tighter together.

“Up until about a year ago, he was an active vigilante. One of the best, actually. Had his hands in community movements all up and down the coast. He was...friendly. Kind. Real ray of sunshine kind of guy. And then one day it’s like he just...snapped. Went off the deep end. Dropped off the face of the planet for a few months and the next time any of us saw him, he was running with criminals. Helping them. Like he’d just...completely switched sides overnight.”

Rowan listened, quietly, and restrained himself from commenting. She seemed awfully sure that her ‘friend’ was in trouble and not just a sudden turncoat, and he wasn’t about to fight her on it. Not in this situation, at least.

“It’s...it doesn’t line up. Something’s wrong. I know it is, but I can’t get a hold of him to press him about it and nobody else will fucking help me. So. Here I am. Breaking into a cop’s apartment. You in, or what?”

“Woah woah, what do you mean in? What exactly do you think I can do about any of this? You’ve essentially given me some vague anecdotal suspicion that your friend started acting strangely about a year ago. That’s not exactly pursuable, I’m not a private investigator.”

“Well someone has to do fucking something!” She slammed one fist against the back of the couch and Rowan heard something crack. He winced.

“I’m not saying I won’t,” he said, bringing his hands up to try to placate her, “I’m just not sure what exactly you were expecting.”

The fight seemed to go out of her and she slumped against the couch.

“I...don’t know. Something.”

[jaskierx]

another analogy that made me cry mid lecture at uni i really like is about plants and about parenting that wasn’t good enough but wasn’t deliberately terrible. and it helped me with a lot of my difficult feelings around how my parents have undeniably fucked me up and broken my brain and said/done some things that they should never have done, but they also did a lot of positive things for me and almost definitely think that they were very good parents.

we know that plants need water and sunlight and air in the correct amounts to grow properly. having too much of one is not a substitute for not having enough of another. a plant that is watered every day and has all the air it could ever need will not be able to thrive if it's kept in a dark cupboard with no sunlight.

and i think a lot of us are in an odd in-between stage where our parents weren't actively abusive - mine didn't hit me or starve me or kick me out of the house - but they still weren't good enough for us to thrive. they didn't give us enough water and sunlight and air. and maybe they gave us too much.

i'm putting this under a cut bc it's like 5 paragraphs of me traumadumping lmao don't read this x

so sometimes we didn't have enough money. but i was always fed. my clothes were clean. i got presents every christmas and every birthday. that was more than could be said for a lot of other kids i knew. i had enough air to thrive. they did not. i was grateful that i'd never know what it was like to be suffocating.

and my parents were (and still are) obsessed with me achieving academic success. which was sometimes a really good thing - they read to me, they helped with my homework, they took me to museums, they praised me when i did well at school. i'm the first person in my family to get a degree. i was a plant that got plenty of water every day.

but i'm also constantly comparing myself to others bc they acted like the important thing was being the best, not doing well for myself. if i got 90% but someone else got 92%, they'd react as if i'd failed. they'd rather i got 30% but everyone else got below 25%. i still have nightmares about an argument i had with my dad a full 10 years ago when he said some absolutely scarring things to me about my career prospects. i am 27 years old, married, living independently, and sometimes i get palpitations if he asks me how work is going. i was a plant that got so overwatered that it was drowning.

and the main thing i missed was feeling accepted and feeling loved unconditionally and loved because i'm their child and not because i can adequately get good grades like you're meant to. i saw my friends' parents being proud of them for significantly worse school results than mine and i didn't understand bc i was Better but i still didn't get any kind of recognition that i was good or that they were proud of me. i saw other kids being loved and supported through really difficult times when they'd made bad choices, while i struggled to get help without being told i needed to grow up or learn to fix things myself. people talked about their mum being their 'best friend'. i was scared of my mum. sometimes people would talk about stuff their parents had helped with - needing to get an abortion, or needing support after a sexual assault, or trying drugs and having a bad trip, or needing to borrow money - and i'd find the idea of my parents helping me with that absolutely laughable. to this day, it's so much easier to go through difficult things alone than to deal with whatever shame would be put on me if i asked for help.

i had plenty of air and so much water and i was desperate for sunlight.

i was desperate for sunlight and every time i asked for some, my parents would point at the air and the water and say 'look at all we've given you, you're incredibly ungrateful to ask for more'

so according to the poll I just reblogged 10% of tumblr users were not loved as a child and another 18% are unsure if they were loved. I think that's the main problem right there, guys. I know that tumblr polls aren't scientific and tumblr is well know for uhhh... not attracting the most well-adjusted and happy people, but like, we all live in the real world. we all have had a friend or family member tell us a desperately sad story from their childhood about how they were explicitly told they weren't loved right now. like, this is the thing. this is the main thing. how can we expect to have a society of happy, well-adjusted, engaged, supportive, and community-oriented adults if 30% of children aren't loved???

one of my best friend's parents have a metaphor that I really like. a child is like a piece of glass, and when a parent raises the child they're handling the glass. some parents just get fingerprints on it, others leave cracks, and others drop it and shatter it entirely. everyone's got trauma, it came free with your being born into an imperfect world, but like, maybe we need to be a little more focused on preventing so much shattered glass.

(bc tumblr is the piss on the poor website, to be clear, if you had shitty parents I don't think you're broken forever without any individual autonomy or anything, like obviously adults as individuals can grow and heal and get therapy etc, I'm just saying we should focus on building a world that's better for kids now than it was for us)

[whynotjust-die]

i’m honestly really on the fence about taekook being actually real.

don’t get me wrong. im a huge fucking shipper, but somehow i always end up with doubts about their relationship being real.

hear me out:

1. obviously they have moments where it seems like there could be no other explanation but lets face it, so do so many other ships.

2. owing to their situations right now, where they live separately and (publicly) meet up pretty rarely for an actual couple, i’d say they either never dated or they actually dated in the past and now are broken up and that breaks my heart to even think about so no.

3. even though they have gotten a fuckton amount of exposure, they are still korean. and, well, i’m not saying that there are no lgbt idols or people in korea but it greatly reduces the probability as compared to them being artists in america i’d say.

4. these boys fucking worked so fucking hard to achieve their dream from the start. i doubt ANY of them had the time to start a relationship.

on top of that their dedication shows that they would try to minimise anything they could that would lead to them having problems achieving their dream. dating within the group, i think, would definitely make things harder for them and they would probably want to avoid that i feel.

because obviously if any of them are in a long term relationship with each other, they’re gonna have problems, they’re going to fight, and that absolutely changes the dynamic. plus the threat of them breaking up is too huge.

5. sometimes when you believe something, you try to find it even in the most irrelevant things. with taekook, sometimes stuff that would seem platonic otherwise tends to make me feel like there’s something more behind it. i’m sure many shippers face that.

6. they have been in the same band for 10 fucking years, as friends, as family. OBVIOUSLY they’re very close. and sometimes being this close makes it seem like a romantic relationship but i’ve always believed that you can have that kind of closeness in a platonic way too.

7. they’re in the kpop industry. they have been taught to please the audience and there has been a lot of taekook content i’ve seen online that could easily be a part of the fan service they have been taught to give. i won’t give you the guarantee that it is, but i’d say it most likely is.

saying all this makes me very sad to be honest. because i’ve ALWAYS loved taekook. and believe me when i say, i’d be so fucking happy if they’re actually together, but even if they are, i doubt we’d ever know.

also in no way am i saying that they’re not close. i detest that thought and for sure know that can’t be true. i’m just trying to say that there is less chance of taekook being real.

i too get so confused because of some instances and that really makes me believe that they have to be real.

if in the future, these beautiful people decide that they want to tell us about their relationship being real, i’d jump to the moon and back i swear.

okay enough for now, i should free you from my rant.

goodbye peeps!

[brwnicons]

Otto x Male Reader

PT. 1 Here

☆ Hope you like it! Please, tell me if you find any mistake ☆

"God, Otto, how can you be so soft?" You groaned, your words muffled as your face was buried on his wide chest. It was like lying on a warm pillow that had its own heartbeats and that eventually raised or lowered.

He answered with a loud belly laugh, his body moving with it and so it was your face "Soft? You're laying beside a supervillain, boy. I don't think soft is a very accurate word."

You lifted your sight to look at him, raising an eyebrow as questioning his words

"Supervillain, right? Oh, I am so scared" You joked after you raised your hand to grasp a metal claw that happened to be passing next to you. You started to caress gently the metal pieces while looking into the doctor's eyes.

"For being so dangerous" you emphasized the adjetive with a dramatical hand gesture "You haven't harmed me once, why don't you hurt me right now? I've got your pretty evil tiny gripper right here". The claw chirped confused, first at you and then at the Otto, why would it hurt you?

He sighed, "How could I ever hurt you, my dear boy?" He allowed his proudness walls fall a little. Just for you, just because the comfort of the situation, comfort you helped him achieve. "You're the most precious thing I have"

Ah, what a pity that he noticed too soon how cheesy he was being.

"But... that doesn't mean I'm not able to do horrible things!" He excused himself, "I have terrorized thousands, I have made a hell out of their lives and I do not regret any of it! This city fears me, boy." He continued while slowly raising, his face getting closer and closer to your impassive one, his bare teeth exposed as a primal show of intimidation and his eyes were piercing yours with false rage.

You couldn't help it at his efforts and giggled soundly at how he tried to intimidate you; you had seen him in the most embarrassing situations, you had shared the cutest moments with him and, damn, you just saw him overestimulated under your body, turned into a shaky mess. "Easy there, scary man" you snickered while giving him little pats on his shoulder.

It was physically impossible for him to hurt you or for you to feel intimidated by him, you both knew it, but you just looved to mess around with him about it.

"Sorry, I just can't see you as evil, you're too cute!" you said between giggles, still caressing the claw, just to end up leaving a little peck on top of it.

Otto sighed heavily in defeat and laid back again, closing his eyes, but he didn't try to take the actuator out from your grasp. You lied beside him and looked sweetly in his eyes.

"You know, I still think you're a pretty intimidating supervillain" you said while hugging his claw gently as if it were some kind of plush.

He didn't respond, but you saw how his eyes softened.

He really didn't have had a good streak lately, spiderman always dismantling his plans or taking his hostages out of him without too much effort. In addition, his experiments were not going as planned and his lab was full of scattered scrap and broken gadgets because of his tantrums.

"Also, I think you're an amazing scientist"

"I know" he dryly answered, his brow slightly furrowing. You looked back at the claw between your hands "Sometimes I don't think you really do" you muttered softly.

He turned his head to you with a serious expression, watching how you peacefully traced the pieces of his metal limb. He remained silent but passed and arm around your shoulders, holding you closer. You silently accommodated your head on top of his chest, letting his hand caress your face while your arms still clasped his claw.

"Thanks, for everything" he finally whispered, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you, you smiled softly and reciprocated his gentle love.

"Uhm... I know you like my actuators but, please, let it go -I can feel them and you're really turning me on with all those pettings"

"Oops, sorry. My bad." you snorted as you let his artificial limb free, which chirped sadly but moved away from you to return with the others.

"Although can't believe you have energy for another round, old man"

He ignored your comment and only bothered to roll his eyes. You remained silent and after a few minutes of him playing with your hair and you drawing circles on his chest, an idea popped I your mind and you were eager to share it.

"So" you started hesitantly, breaking the silent atmosphere "You wanna eat out of something? Unless you already have a date with spiderman, or the lab, of course" you said without looking at him. "I think my plan of helping you relax has succeed, so I declare you a free man now."

"I guess I could take the entire day off, did you have something on mind?"

Your face light up and you were fast to nod at his question "Well, since I can't go to a restaurant with my dear boyfriend because he is the most wanted villain in all of the United States and he has, you know, four gigantic metallic claws on his back" You started, earning a roll of eyes and a frown of his brow, "what do you think about a roof date?" You finally looked at him, your eyes shining like little pleading suns.

He just couldn't resist that sight and you knew it too well. Also, he had to admit that it had been a while since you guys got out and the idea of relaxing with you on top of a skyscraper, covered by bright stars, laying on some soft blanket while eating something or just chatting was really something tempting.

"I like the idea. You can go get ready as I go to buy some food, any preference?"

You immediately jumped off the bed and glared at him. You poked his chest "Don't even think of crossing that door before I come back to pick you up, old man. This is your relaxing day and you're not allowed to set foot outside unless it's for a relaxing purpose."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat as he sighed deeply. "Alright, just stop speaking so loud already, boy -you're going to give me a headache"

You giggled and softly kissed his nose before heading out of the bedroom, "I've left your favourite shampoo next to the shower! Also, clean clothes are folded above the drawers in the closet in case you want to use them!"

He muttered a low "thanks you" you weren't able to heard though he knew it wasn't necessary either.

It was only when Otto found himself alone on your shared bed that he felt the unpleasant sensation of a dry, sticky fluid between his legs and the before forgotten back pain. He pulled back the sheets with a disgusted face and headed to the bathroom. It was true, his favourite shampoo was laying on the sink along a yellow post it with a heart on it.

Otto took it off so it wouldn't get wet and made sure to keep it safe. He never said it but he loved your little notes, even the silly little ones with animal fun facts or terrible knock knock jokes.

He got into the shower and turned on the hot water, instantly relaxing and the contact it made with his sore skin. His claws chirped excited as they played with the drops and the soap and Otto finally felt fully peaceful at the lack of their usual, violent thoughts. Though, since he started his relationship with you, he had to admit that his actuators had calmed down and now they even had pretty thoughts about you.

However, he made sure to accept your suggestion and relaxed, trying his best to push the usual million thoughts he would have to the back of his mind. His body welcomed the sensation instantly.

After his shower he did as you said and looked in his closet, where he found the black turtleneck sweater and the dark pants he was wearing just before your...encounter. They were both clean and smelled as if cologne had been sprinkled on them. God, how long had you been awaken before him? He was getting embarrased just at the thought of you watching him sleep —something he was sure you had done more than a few times—.

He took the same sweater since he knew it was your favorite but chose another pair of pants. He wiped his small sunglasses before putting them on and made sure to give himself a quick comb. He even decided to give his actuators a little wipe so they could be all shiny and pretty.

All done! All he would need to do then was to wait for you in the living room, so he took a science magazine that was on the coffee table and gave it a look to kill some time.

-

It wasn't long until you appeared in the front door, a wide grin painted on your face as you showed him bags of snacks.

"I'm here Otto- Oh! You really are stunning" You complimented when you saw his outfit as he got up and approached you. The red that crept to his cheeks because of the unexpected compliment making him even cuter.

"Thank you..." He scratched his neck, "Are you ready to leave?"

"In a minute, I still need to get dressed up all fancy for you", you giggled and winked at him as you let him pick the bags you were carrying, "Why don't you get some blankets meanwhile? I won't be long" and so, you rushed to your room without waiting for an answer.

With the help of his actuators, Otto gathered some blankets and waited for you to return. When you did, dressed up in your favourite outfit as a sweet smell of cologne left your clothes, Otto couldn't help but blush a dark red.

You giggled softly and kissed his cheek before extending your arm and offering it for him for take, just like an old, corny couple. And so, an actuator put on him his dark fedora, that could half-hid his blush too, and you took a jacket for the night's cold.

"Shall we?" Otto asked while opening the door as his actuators beeped and screeched excitedly around. You giggled at his manners and their difference with his actuators' personality and nodded at his question, already taking a step out of the house,

"Gladly".