#because promising to understand everything perfectly is bullshit

[baby-pink-panic]

Today I stood there in art class in my bright sunshine yellow paint jacket and with only a few days left of high school ever I thought about all the people I've known and what I've seen and I realized that after years of barely being able to ever stop hurting myself or to stay alive at all but always fighting and trying so hard to make sure nobody I could do something about ever had to go through the same things alone and all the nights I spent talking and texting calling and hugging and holding and begging people to live because there was so much for them and even if there was nothing here for me there was for them and they deserved so much better and pouring my love for them into my art and getting coated in little bits of paint that got on that jacket that only I had because only I'd lived that and made those things that I have become the girl in the yellow cardigan who says hey don't do it please and I remember being 13 and listening to that song and connecting to it because I was so young but I'd already started destroying myself and it was so stupid but it helped me and now I'm the girl in the yellow cardigan and I'm begging you all to live not for me but for you because you deserve to and you're more loved than you know and I hope when you see this you know that. I don't care who you are or how unimportant you feel I am talking to you. I love you and I want you to live and I can see the glory in you and its there and it may be buried but nobody can take away your human instinct to survive one more day and even though you hate it you have to listen please please please because I can't stand it when people die because inevitably when you try to take your life there will be one horrific moment where you feel yourself slipping past the point of no return and your whole body starts screaming at you to turn around because you realize there's so much left to do and you're not ready to say goodnight. I am the half a girl in your art class in the yellow cardigan absorbed in creation who wants to sit and listen to your every feeling and thought and will respond in anecdotes and word salad poetry and randomly placed ramblings about how I wish things were better for you and I might not always know but I will always try to understand and I will not leave you alone and I will painstakingly put symbols of you within my art so when you look really close and you catch it in the abstract mess you can know that I dedicated that time to thinking about you because you matter to me and even though I'm just some person you know I will sit and think and worry about you for hours and you will never know it but I really do care that much and I always care that much no matter what state I'm in and even if that makes no difference I still care I care I care so much and I do not want you to die. I am the girl in the yellow cardigan and I don't care if I can save myself I just want you to be alright and if helping you means I have to live then no matter who you are I will live so I make sure you do too. I am the girl in the yellow cardigan and if I can make even one more person live then my life will have been worth something. I am the girl in the yellow cardigan and I should be dead but I'm not and so maybe if you think you should be dead but I'm sorry you're wrong and you shouldn't because I care about you and there is so much more to live for. I am the girl in the yellow cardigan and I will not let you die alone

[letherightonein]

Men don't care about the facts

I once met a die hard misogynist who also hated men

He refused to date women and made a lot of efforst to not have any kind of relationship with them. To talk to him I had to wait two weeks since he was doing a vow of silence to not talk to any women.

He told me he left an english academia, because a woman started to talk to him and trying to hang out with him. Of course, I don't talk to him anymore.

He was and as far as I know still is, a genuine MGTOW. He just left women alone and minded his business. But he wasn't a high IQ successful six figures as MGTOW swear all men can become if they stop dating women. He usually drove while drunk, didn't had a career or a real job, lived with mom and dad and had a family completely progressive and contrary to his values. He also used to bet.

His misogyny was rampant, inflammatory and sophisticated. But he also seemed to hate men. He had a huge prejudice against men, he said that they are predatory, inherently selfish and violent.

But there was a major difference, he also believed that men are superior, that men are smarter, more beautiful, with mind and soul. So every bad characteristic had to be forgiven, while women had to be tightly controlled and punished.

And he acted accordingly, when I showed him a clip of a woman being harassed, it was her fault. If the woman rejected the man and the man exploded violently, it was her fault for not rejecting him nicely. If the woman tried to be polite and still molested, it was her fault for not being more clear.

He was aware of the constant damned if you do, damned if you don't rethoric and didn't have a problem with it. It was part of the principles, because women had to be punished and put on their place. Logic and fairness were not a problem for him, in fact, I believe that for him women had to endure the mistreatment since they were inferior.

Nowadays, everytime I see men talking about women online I see that man talking. It's always the same, doesn't matter who say it, with what words, the nuances of it. It all comes from the same place and it's the same game. Logic doesn't matter, facts don't matter, fairness doesn't matter.

I feel frustated everytime I see women online trying to educate men and respond to them. I understand the importance of counteract male bullshit stories, but everything seems to operate from men's frame. It's us responding to them, instead of them trying to convince us.

For example, the idea that men are entitled to fuck around a lot of women and demand a virgin bride. Everyone ask, well if all women have to remain virgin till marriage, with whom those men will have sex? And I can't help but feel that this is a loser move.

Men don't care about the maths, they care about what benefits them. If when young they feel like fucking around and then later they feel like settling and don't find the promised virgin wife, then it's not "my behavior was wrong" or "I have contributed to the problem", is a "women are the problem and society has to fix it for me". They are not thinking long term, they think it what they want now.

It is not a lack of math what makes them think this way, for them the pieces of the puzzle are fitting perfectly. Women have to gatekeep, be submissive, not think in their own desires and try to please them. They have a whole fantasy around being a kind of predator or a seductor who has conquered the virgin innocent women and has corrupted her, making her impure and damaged. They want to spend their lifes doing that and then settle with women who could not be conquered before.

Their whole self steem and validation relies on that. If a woman wants it and seek it, then they are not worth as much, since they don't have to put any effort or force. It's cheap and easy. If a woman has been with others before, then he is below those men.

It's perfectly logical for them, actually. When they become fathers, they still see themselves as part of the puzzle. Men who want to conquer his daughter have to conquer him too.

Of course, this take doesn't apply to all men perfectly, but all of them have a version of this idea. It seems inherent to men. Men who are succesful with women are sexist but benevolent and men who are not are hostile and misogynistic. Men who are good with women are good because they are getting validation from them, not because they are moral deconstructed people with strong feminist values.

They can't think of women as people by default, their view on them is conditioned on how they see themselves and what they have obtained from women. Their narratives and ideas stem from this, they don't respond to any external logic, their internal clock is right everytime of the year and your facts and math can't and won't change that.

It is said that if women would start act differently, men will act accordingly. I see more truth on it, but it won't solve everything. Not only because of the male allies, but because men will still act whitin their frame. If all women start to reject men, an unknown number of men will act from their entitlement and could literally kill us before seeking inside or listening to women about what they actually want. If women start to set the standard high and only reproduce with decent men, a lot of men will be excluded and will protest and sabotage.

Their firmware remains the same, they are superior, they worth more, they are entitled to you, you owe them something. It's not possible to reason a man out of that, so stop trying wasting your time and mental health on it. If they wanted to reach out, they would and they don't.

[karniquefreak]

Homelander bombarding Hughie with thousands of voice messages, having a meltdown because his boy is not picking up. Meanwhile, Hughie just innocently fell asleep on the couch or something not aware of the shitstorm he’s inadvertently caused.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. This number is not available. At the tone, please record your message."

[05:19 pm] Are you fucking serious?

[05:20 pm] Very funny. Hughie, why aren’t you answering my calls? Is this some kind of joke? Pick up your phone.

[05:21 pm] Hughie. Babe. What the fuck is this? Why are you ignoring me?

[05:22 pm] Where the hell are you? Why aren’t you picking up? You’re kind of pissing me off. You have to know you can’t just fucking go offline on me like this. It’s incredibly rude. Am I going to have to punish you later?

[05:34 pm] I’m trying my damnedest to be patient, but you’re really testing me here, sweetheart. Pick up your phone. Now.

[05:36 pm] You don’t seem to understand how this works. When I call you pick up. You don’t make me chase after you like some limp-dick schmo. Did you forget who I am?

[05:40 pm] We’re really doing this, huh? So what, you don’t want to be with me anymore, is that it? And instead of having the common decency to face me like a man you just ghost me. Of course. Jesus fuck, that's classic you, isn't it? Son of a bitch— [audio cuts off]

[05:42 pm] I’ll rip out your spine and laser your dick off andthrowyourbodyinto— [audio cuts off]

[05:45 pm] Hey. It’s me again. Hughie, I know what I said wasn’t...nice. I know, I know. Yikes! I'm just going to start over. I’m sorry. Look just—just pick up, alright? I miss you.

[05:47 pm] FUCK YOU! You miserable insect! I always knew you didn’t take us seriously, you two-faced shithead. I hate you, truthfully you were nothing to me, you know that? Just another nobody to get off with, you never meant a thing to me! You weren’t even a good lay, I could have gotten better dick-sucking from Deep for half the trouble!

[05:51 pm] Ugly sobbing noises 

[05:55 pm] Hughie, you know I love you, right? It's ok babe, I forgive you! I'm not angry, I promise. Just come over, we can have dinner and talk. It doesn’t have to end like this. I’ve calmed down now, alright? It's fine. We're good. Honest.

[05:57 pm] Are you having an affair? Is that what this is? So who the fuck is she then? Are you with Starbitch? Bet she's laughing at me while you're fingerblasting her, she must be getting off to this. But let me make this perfectly clear, you don’t fucking cheat on me. I’m The. Fucking. Homelander. Does your tiny brain even comprehend that? I am the most superior being on this earth. You should be honoured— [audio cuts off]

[06:00 pm] I’m sorry, Hughie. I may have overreacted a smidge. I'll admit that I jumped to conclusions. Yeah, fine. You win this round. Happy? Now pick up the phone.

[06:04 pm] distorted sounds of inhumane screaming, furniture getting smashed, walls collapsing, palms are sweaty knees weak, arms are heavy, there's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti

[06:06 pm] S-sir is everything ok? We heard— GET THE FUCK OUT ASHLEY, I’M BUSY! sounds of glass shattering Bunch of braindead fucks.

[06:07 pm] You better be dead, Hughie, because nothing excuses this kind of bullshit behaviour. Not from you, you hear me? I don’t give a fuck anymore, in fact I never did! Truth hurts, doesn’t it? I admit you were amusing, good for a laugh or two, but it's gotten boring. I need more and you're clearly not delivering.

[06:08 pm] I know I said you playing hard to get is a turn on, but this is ridiculous…

[06:09 pm] Hey asshole, I deleted all of your nudes. You can keep mine because I genuinely feel sorry for you, seeing as it's the best you'll ever get. I should charge you a pretty penny every time you jerk your sad little cock to me.

[06:10 pm] Ok you got me. I didn’t actually delete them, but I’m going to if you don’t PICK UP YOUR MOTHERFUCKING PHONE! HUGIE!

[06:19 pm] Fuck why do I keep— I’m sorry babe, you know how I get. You know I didn’t really mean any of it, right? I just forgot myself for a second, you know me. That’s what I love about you though, you understand me like no one. I need you Hughie, it's true. Please answer me.

[06:21 pm] What is it this time, huh? Did I hurt your fee-fee's, you big fucking baby? Did I make you cry? Aw boo fucking hoo! Why don’t you grow a pair already! I’ve given you everything and this is the thanks I get?! I’m a fucking catch! I was voted Sexiest Supe Alive for seven consecutive years! I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you, Campbell! You’re lucky to breathe the same air as me!

[06:24 pm] Is this because I accidentally sprained your wrist that one time? You’re still mad about that? I offered you head and you said no! That’s on you for not accepting my apology, it wasn’t even my fault so quit your moping, it's not fucking cute. Always such a goddamn drama queen. Jesus Christ, get over it, Hughie. Fuck's sake.

[06:27 pm] You said you loved me, you lying whore! I believed you! You know how much I fucking hate liars! YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET THIS CAMPBELL. I'M COMING FOR YOU!

[06:40 pm] Hughie, I’m here. Open the fucking door. I’m not going to break it down because you bitched me out like a little pussy the last time. C’mon, I’m being nice here, it’s more than you deserve. 

[06:41 pm] Hughie enough. I’m not going to repeat myself.

[06:42 pm] ALRIGHT THAT'S FUCKING IT. YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE, CAMPBELL!

Hughie this whole time: 

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

s/o has been.... distant... recently. hanging out with a certain friend. whether it be dry/slow text, being more figetty, being more nervouse, or ignoring some text. one day the friend was over, and s/o was in their room. after a bit of interrigation from the skellie, the friend finally tells the truth.... s/o is planning on proposing, and is a nervous wreck.

Undertale Sans - .... OH. Well, he's so relieved. He got so anxious for several days that his S/O tried to hide something big from him but didn't trust him enough to talk, which bothered him a lot. Well, that makes sense now. He promises he won't tell anyone he knows.

Undertale Papyrus - He gasps, then puts his two hands on their mouth. HUSH. He doesn't want to know more. The only problem with this is that he's now very excited and can barely contain himself in front of S/O, who figures in like ten minutes he knows somehow.

Underswap Sans - He was expecting a lot of things but certainly not that. Blue is speechless. He will ask S/O's friend to repeat this again at least three or four times, just to be sure. Well shit. How the hell is he supposed to live knowing this now? S/O can feel he's weird and they're confused.

Underswap Papyrus - Oh god, thanks to tell him, he thought S/O was sick or something! He's so relieved! ... Wait a second. WHAT THE HELL YOU MEAN S/O IS PLANNING ON PROPOSING HIM?! HE'S NOT READY! Honey starts to hyperventilate in panic and passes out in S/O's friend's arms to calm himself lol.

Underfell Sans - He's not convinced. That's bullshit, why would anyone want to propose him? He's a jerk and a nightmare to live with, that's ridiculous. However, his body language says overwise. Red is slowly but surely panicking, trying to stay in denial to protect himself from having to deal with his own feelings. He needs to talk to his brother about this. Like, right now! He stands up and leaves the room in a hurry. He'll be fine. Probably.

Underfell Papyrus - What?! Unacceptable! He's preparing HIS proposal for WEEKS now. There's no way he's letting his S/O propose to him first. You know what? He's going to propose right now! He can't believe this nonsense!

Horrortale Sans - Oh, ok. Well, good thing he's going to forget in 10 minutes. He wants to be surprised. At least he can write in his notebook to not freak out because S/O is just preparing a surprise, not dying. That's a relief. He's a lot less stressed when S/O comes home, that's a nice change.

Horrortale Papyrus - "KLCJOEOEHJISOJHDKOPJC????!!!!?" You broke Willow. He lost the ability to talk as he is freaking out in shock and crying, having no control over his emotions anymore. And you expect him to keep this a secret? HOW?! He can't keep this a secret! He wants to scream and cry every time S/O is meeting his eye sockets! Don't you understand he's going to die? S/O better has to propose fast now. Your friend messed up big lol. Willow can't wait, he's going to ruin the surprise.

Swapfell Sans - He stays speechless. He never expected that and that's quite a shock because he usually knows everything. He's shocked and unsure about all of this. This is quite terrifying if he has to be perfectly honest. He won't show anything to S/O, because he doesn't want to ruin their surprise, but he will have an existential crisis for a few days lol.

Swapfell Papyrus - That's all? Why the hell are you scared then? You know he's an idiot and that he will say yes even if you propose to him with an onion ring, right? He'll make sure his S/O knows that by covering the house with onion rings. Nox has a mental breakdown when he comes home.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Well, duh, he knew that already. Is that all? S/O is quite obvious in the way they keep looking at him. He thought there was something more? He's disappointed. S/O's friend screams at them for being disappointed. What the hell is this supposed to mean? He's offended your friend is screaming at him.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He screams. Just... Screams. Uncontrollably. He's having a panic attack, and he's not sure if he's going to survive ten more minutes right now. He's panicking, and crushing S/O's friend in a hug because he needs moral support right now. He's not gonna keep the secret lol. You can tell the second you're home and the way he runs to hide under the couch in utter panic that he knows.

[unabashedly-so]

💙💜🩷 SDV Bachelor HC 🩷💜💙

How much has each bachelor explored their bisexuality?

Content warning: compulsive heteronormativity, loss of family, grief, risky sexual behavior mention, drinking mention. SFW.

✨The Bachelors✨

Elliott

look me in the eye and just try to tell me this man doesn't already know. i dare you i fuckin' dare you i WANT YOU TO

that line on the 10 heart boat scene about not knowing he could feel that way about another man is bullshit and that is a piece of canon I toss into the sea.

now please understand the majority of this is colored by my very vivid hc of Elliott's upbringing and young adult life, but you're literally reading a hc post that is labeled hc so you bought the ticket now board the train. choo choo mfs.

the low hanging fruit is that this is a man that canonically spends hours on hair care, dresses like that, talks like that, etc. etc.. Yes, you can be cishet etc. and do that, sure.

and don't get me wrong, it's valid that Elliott could just Be Like That. (I love and respect the hell out of that incorrect opinion)

but this man is penny-romance novel cover coded. just. think about that. think about this active CHOICE he is making.

ffs he lives on a BEACH and dresses in a THREE-PIECE SUIT with his PERFECTLY COIFFED hair that he has to spend HOURS on because that's what happens when you LIVE. ON. A. BEACH.

i am going to have an aneurysm about this man's life choices rn

he's arguably pretty self-secure*, which tracks because you don't get to be his age and not have some better understanding of yourself. As others have pointed out, there's no real ""growth"" in Elliott's arc because boy came whole because HE BEEN KNEW HE BEEN THROUGH THIS ALREADY. He's secure in his identity because he's worked it out already! He's moved on! focusing on his career and legacy now that he knows who is he and who he's not!!

*dont make me drag out the receipts his part is already long enough just trust me ok

now meet Elliott in his early 20's and wow, buddy, you are trying way too hard I promise you things are gonna be okay sweetheart

speaking of his early 20's, it's hc to me that he did, uhhhh, so much exploring. of everything. and everyone in the English and Theater department during university.

King Slut, long may he reign. 🙏

just. someone who's not as self-secure and self-aware would not be able to own the aesthetic PLUS the temperament we see with Elliott, who really only gets flustered with the intimate interpersonal stuff because he's a romantic and it's meaningful. He's confident in who he is and the kind of person he wants to be, and you don't get to that point in life without having done a lot of experimenting and soul-searching.

I could write a whole fucking meta on this boy, but for today: 9/10 he knows it, owns it, enjoys it, but he's got more interesting things going on in his opinion than to make one of his core personality traits just Gay/Queer/Bi/Pan, etc. He has an AESTHETIC and BI BY YOBA he's sticking to it.

also he can walk in heels better than you.

Harvey

Hmm, he's actually hard to get a read on for me. There's a few others in the fandom who might have a better take than me, but here's what I can offer.

first let's grant him that he's older. With age comes wisdom, experience, etc. the older bachelor/ettes are just going to be at an advantage vs the younger ones.

also... like 8 years in college. I cannot be swayed away from this as a crucial part of his journey.

twinkle TWINK-le little snack.

it just feels like one of those things he felt happening in high school and might have gotten bullied for it because everyone Knew but he couldn't/wouldn't just own it.

but then in college he finally realized that owning it would give him the power, so he did. kind of. very quietly.

he probably had a boyfriend or two in undergrad. They were definitely the kind to hold hands from the coffee shop to the library. you know the ones, we've all seen 'em. <3

and isn't he just so lucky that he can get butterflies from girls too?

a blessing and a burden for this man with anxiety because, oh no, now everyone's cute.

by the time he gets to Pelican town, his last relationship kind of ended on a sour note, so he's a little discouraged from pursuing romantic relationships, hence why he's a bit guarded and shy and nervous.

he gets a 8/10, he's just quiet about it because who's business is it but his own? also, like, he's literally the doctor for everyone. He's gotta keep some confidentiality in this small town.

Sebastian

while he doesn't show it, I'd say Sebastian is actually quite comfortable with being bi.

I mean like as comfortable as he can be around people in general.

He doesn't bring it up, and doesn't really let anyone know either, but again that's just kind of his MO, regardless of gender.

now when he's Together with someone, well that's a different story. we stan possessive Sebastian in this house 🫡

he probably wouldn't bring it up with the gang unless someone else brought it up first. 🤷‍♀️

would probably give some semi-defensive response of "yeah, what of it??" to his friends, but a low hearts farmer might get a coldly aggro "why are you asking? That's none of your business."

he and Maru Know about each other but keep those conversations private. hashtag just sibling things ig

has definitely kissed guys at concerts before. Lots of people can also provide a feeling of anonymity, letting him get lost in the crowd and not have to worry so much. 10/10

Shane

closeted sportsballer. As a former Closeted Sportsballer, I can see this going two ways.

First option: you DO NOT explore that unless you want things to get real weird REAL FAST.

Like, I'm not even talking locker room nonsense, let's be mature here. Even if you do not like your teammates, you WILL still share a Sports Bond with them built on a shared passion, a common goal, and lots of comiseration.

So if you're already on iffy social standing, which I'm just gonna go out on a limb and say Shane might have had... you're gonna have a bad time.

Then after his gridball career ended, it may have already been baked in that that was Dangerous. OR he could have just been so far down the path of self-loathing that he stopped looking at people romantically.

OR OR--part of his self-loathing actually opened him up to exploring his sexuality......

......which is a very nice way of saying he took part in a lot of risky sexual encounters. 😮‍💨 (with all genders! One night stands do not discriminate!)

so if there were any feelings involved, it was... not good or conducive to self-understanding. Probably made things worse.

cue the drinking! the depression! all the risky behaviors!

ALTERNATIVELY... Option two: he does explore Feelings For Dudes and it could have played into his sportsball exit. 🤔

Hi. Let me just reiterate personal experience here: LEAVING A TEAM CAN REALLY FUCK YOU UP depending on your life outside the sport. Sports teams are a social support group, like, I really hate the phrase "like family"... but literally structurally so similar. If you already don't have a strong family life outside of the sport (like Shane has admitted to, let's fuckin goooooo), AND being on a team is an overall positive thing in your life??

Leaving your team (willingly or unwillingly) takes away that social support. And not just the social/emotional support, but the structure to your life, the routine, the feeling of belonging, the PURPOSE!!!

gee, wonder what kind of feelings those can bring about in a person. like a sad chicken man.

are we seeing a trend here???????

Ok this definitely got more into a sportsball psychological study, but what I'm saying is my money's on gridball heavily influencing his trajectory but since he DIDN'T have the family or social supports outside of it, he crashed and burned afterwards. Contrast with Alex below who DID have social supports and--

focus, bisexuality.

Personally, I like the idea that Shane's been with dudes, but it's never been anything emotionally healthy (except maybe one pre-gridball-exodus which could have prompted the leave......🤔👀) or fulfilling.

5/10, would be 6 but he got -1 because it was driven by self-loathing. >:(

somebody come show him some mlm love!!!

Sam

baby boy. sweet baby boy.

the younger bachelor/ettes are at a bit of a disadvantage because they're in the time of their life where they would be exploring their sexualities in a conducive environment. Not to say the valley isn't but there's, uh, only 11 other singletons there and they all know each other sooooo...

that said, due to Kent's military career, it's likely Sam has had time living outside of Pelican Town, so may be a bit farther ahead than, say, Sebastian who's lived there his whole life.

speaking of Kent, it's canon that Daddy has been in and out of his life and tbf I don't remember exactly how Sam feels about that but

I'm JUST SAYIN'. baby boy gets a whiff of attention from some buff dude who wants to make him his baby girl?? melting.

you know the trope of how girls with absent fathers sometimes overcorrect for that and seek out male attention like crazy? well, who says boys are any different??

what I'm getting at is this: you're trying to tell me Sam has NEVER had a raging crush on Alex?????

I mean fr it was probably like. Alex told him "good choice" on his ice cream flavor once and it was all downhill from there.

plus I'm hoping he's got a solid enough friendship with Sebastian (and Abigail) that they could talk about these things without it getting weird.

also, singer/lead guitarist in a band?? come on, too easy.

anyway 5/10, once again a bit oblivious until he gets smacked in the face. Definitely a flavor of "haha no homo bro! :):) ...... unless...?? 👀"

Alex

closeted sportsballer, round 2 EXCEPT

he canonically admits he crushes real easy. so just statistically speaking, there's an equal likelihood that he's crushed on the male singletons of the valley, too. Which totally doesn't even take into consideration his gridballer time, which I'll get to in a second.

he also admits his crushes don't usually last very long. part of that probably has to do with a lot with attachment issues (seriously he should be more messed up than he is), but if gridball is just SDV American Football, there's probably a good deal of internalized homophobia Alex has had to either work through or not work through. hence why his not het crushes might not last long.

but confusing and conflicting as they may be, THEY'RE STILL THERE. just. probably presenting more like a "wow I'm really noticing this person a lot lately huh. I mean I guess they look pretty good and seem kind of cool..." he's completely and utterly oblivious to so much, his own feelings included.

so what I'm saying is there was a brief window of time where Alex unknowingly had a crush on Sam and, listen, under the right circumstances Sam/Alex (Smalex?) could have been canonized--don'T BOO ME, I'm RIGHT

as for gridball, compulsive heteronormativity is absolutely rampant so there's no way he could have felt comfortable exploring his interest in other gender(s). ESPECIALLY in his case where he's still kind of on the outside, trying to model himself to fit a certain kind of mold. Just, no chance, absolutely none.

and really, Idk, between him and Haley I'm starting to get real compulsive heteronormativity vibes now... not that they're mad about it, but they were kinda forced into those roles and, well, the shoes KIND OF fit I GUESS...

you might say it was ... they're kind of sh... shoeho--shoehorn--*shot*

Anyway, boy's represso. 2/10, if you called him bi he'd say wait why are you leaving , what did you want to tell me???

[seraphtrevs]

Something Blue

A @lachowedding2023 Fic ***

The blood stain wouldn’t come out.

Nacho had been scrubbing the left lapel his wedding suit jacket for what felt like forever. The stain had faded—once it dried, it would probably barely be noticeable. The jacket was black, after all.

But he’d know it was there.

After giving the fabric one last rinse, he hung the jacket over the towel rack. It was only then that he noticed that a little of the blood had gotten onto his shirt as well—his shirt was red so maybe that’s why he hadn’t noticed it at first, but now that it was drying the spot had changed to a brown. He started to take off his shirt but then decided he didn’t care anymore. Seemed fitting for him to walk down the aisle in blood-splattered clothes.

If he walked down the aisle at all.  

He grabbed the bottle of tequila he’d snagged from the kitchen on the way to the bathroom and sat on the toilet, then took a big swig. What the fuck was he going to do?

He’d had three swigs by the time the first knock came. “Um, Nacho?” It was Domingo, his best man. “You okay in there?”

Nacho gritted his teeth. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Really?” He sounded skeptical.

“Yeah. Really.”

“Cool, cool.” A pause. “So—are you going to come out soon? Because it’s been like, an hour. And the ceremony is supposed to start in forty-five minutes, so…” He trailed off, seeming to hope that Nacho would jump in. Nacho didn’t.

Domingo cleared his throat and tried again. “So, um—on a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?”

That question wasn’t really coming from Domingo. Nacho’s anger sparked again. “You can tell him it’s a ten.”

“Okay,” Domingo said miserably before departing.

Nacho took another swig of the tequila—the last one, he promised himself. The last thing he needed to do was get drunk, but the world had already started to get a little hazy around the edges.

Soon enough, there were more footsteps—at least two people, and both of them were Salamancas. He had a second sense about the whole family by now.

There was a swift rap on the door. “Nachito, it’s me," Lalo said. "I just wanted to say that I perfectly understand why you’re upset. It is unacceptable that your outfit was stained, and I have brought someone to apologize to you, if you’ll hear it.”

“Hey, Nacho,” Tuco said mournfully. “I’m sorry blood got on your suit and shit—which looks amazing, by the way, to anyone who has any fucking taste, unlike that piece of shit No Doze, who should know to keep his fucking mouth shut. Your black and red color scheme is not tacky. When I heard him say that, I couldn’t let it slide. Disrespecting you, on your wedding day? Uh-uh! I don’t fucking think so!” His voice grew louder until he sounded like he was going to start swinging his fists again. “That little bitch! Any disrespect to you is disrespect to me, because you’re a Salamanca now. So he got exactly what he deserved!!!”

“You’re getting off track, primo,” Lalo muttered.

Nacho heard Tuco inhale. “I’m sorry the blood got on you—I should have dragged him away before I beat his ass.”

Lalo cut in. “At cartel weddings, it’s considered bad luck if at least one person doesn’t die. And look, now we’ve gotten it out of the way! And I’m sure the stain isn’t too bad.”

“A little club soda will get that right out,” Tuco agreed. “If you want, I could—”

“No,” Nacho nearly shouted. “It’s fine. Everything is just fine!” It was probably the least convincing lie he’d ever told; he was usually much better at putting up with Salamanca bullshit, but he was at his fucking limit.

Read the rest on AO3 here!

[bi-bard]

In Your Disbelief, You'll Clear Your Eyes as If You're Seeing Light for the Very First Time - Sebastian Sanger Imagine [HBO's Titans]

Title: In Your Disbelief, You'll Clear Your Eyes as If You're Seeing Light for the Very First Time

Pairing: Sebastian Sanger X Reader

Based On: Goes On and On

Word Count: 940 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: (Y/n) and Sebastian find themselves in the care of the Titans. While they are dealing with the reality of being suddenly pulled away from their lives, (Y/n) tries to keep hopes high with the promise of what could be after all of this is said and done.

Author's Note: This one is really short because the story for this song didn't really need to be super long.

Part One of "September" [Release Date: 10/13/2023]

Part Three of "September" [Release Date: 10/17/2023]

YEARBOOK - SLEEPING AT LAST WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I had never been as overwhelmed as I was when Sebastian and I found ourselves being dragged into a huge RV and driven into the woods.

Well, Sebastian was dragged. I had kind of impulsively followed.

Regardless of how we found ourselves there, we were both sitting in the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers. Strangers that seemed to all have some kind of powers and some kind of knowledge about everything going on around us that we didn't fully understand.

I had a vague understanding of who we were with.

There was Dick and Kory. They seemed to be the leaders of the leaders of the group. There was Rachel, who seemed to have a connection to Sebastian through whatever that woman wanted to push at in the police station. There was Conner and Gar. I didn't know much about either. Just that Conner had superstrength and was just a little bit terrifying when I had to force him to let me go with Sebastian.

Beyond that, I didn't know anything about them.

They spoke about helping us. Protecting Sebastian from that woman in the police station. Sebastian had described a bit of that to me. Something about the woman insisting that he repeat these three words that were apparently powerful in some way.

It was so strange.

Just days ago, we were living in peace. Making breakfast and kissing before either one of us left. Me sitting and organizing my CDs while he worked on his game. Existing in this perfect silence that we had created for ourselves. It was quiet, but it was exactly as it should have been.

Now, we were running for our lives.

It was too much.

I was sitting on the half-log that was next to Sebastian's. He had his hood on, staring down at the ground. I wanted to help him. I just didn't know how. This situation had never crossed my mind as one that was possible.

I took a deep breath.

"How are you feeling," I asked quietly.

"Scared, confused, overwhelmed," Sebastian muttered back. "Take your pick."

I reached over and grabbed his hand. "It's gonna be okay."

"How can you know that?"

"Because we're always okay," I shrugged. Sebastian scoffed and shook his head. "You're right. That was bullshit. I'm sorry."

I saw a small grin cross his lips.

I grinned back. "But... from what you told me about what happened in that police station... a lot of this is your choice. And when or if it comes down to it, I have faith that you'll pick the right one."

"Why?"

"Because you're you and I know you," I scootched on the seat so I could be a little closer to him. "I know that I've chosen a man who is smart and kind. Who can understand a situation for more than what it is on the surface."

He chuckled. "So much hope."

"Yup," I replied. I pulled his hand over to press my lips to the back of it. "I'll always have hope for you."

He nodded. "Thank you."

I just nodded back to him.

I turned my head back to stare at the old fire pit in front of us. Previously burned leaves and sticks had left this black pit on the ground, surrounded perfectly by rocks. Perfectly contained chaos. A black hole with a barrier.

I tilted my head at it.

I thought of Sebastian in that moment. This kind, quiet person with the possibility to break the barrier and cause chaos on a wide scale. I wondered what it was like. Beyond stressful, of course. What was it like to be told that there was so much at your fingertips that you just had to reach out and take it?

"After all of this," I said, "we should move."

"What," he asked, chuckling again. "That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"Our future?" I looked at him. "Of course, I am."

He ran his thumb over my knuckles. "Alright, fine. Where would you want to move?"

"Somewhere quiet. Private," I explained. "Where no one could bother us. Where fate and destiny wouldn't matter anymore."

"Sounds lovely."

"We could have that," I replied. "A perfect future like that. A place for us to call home. And then, we'd just let time pass around us. Just something peaceful."

"How long have you been thinking about this?" his eyebrows furrowed.

I shrugged. "A while."

I had been thinking about it since the first night that I stayed at his place. The idea of it made my chest feel warm. Full of love. It was something that I thought about every time that I woke up before him. He would get his game developed and then we would find our own little place to live without the noise and stress. We'd both have a home. A place where we could both exist with no fear of rejection or abandonment.

"I love you," I said after a little while.

He grinned at me. "I love you too."

After that, Rachel walked down to us from the RV.

I looked back at the old firepit, letting the pair talk about what had happened at the police station. I didn't want to interfere with something that I didn't truly know anything about.

I was going to pull my hand away so he could focus a bit better, but I felt his hand grip mine a bit tighter when I tried. I grinned to myself, adjusting my grip so it was a bit better.

I knew then that my hope was well-placed.

Well, I thought that my hope was well-placed.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[atlantablack]

You know, i've been reading a lot of steve/tony fic the past month and i love them both a lot but i've been seething mad all day just thinking about how so much of this fandom treats him and purposely mistreats his character and Steve Rogers is this skinny kid from Brooklyn who signed up for a war over and over again despite knowing it would kill him because he didn't like knowing that other men were out there dying and when Erskine asked if he wanted to kill Nazis he said no and he spent years fighting in alleyways and causing trouble and getting beat up and probably would have ended up dead if Bucky hadn't been there to pull him out of shit because he doesn't like bullies and he refuses to back down and "Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man." and grenade get back get back and azzano and i have to put her in the water and "Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so the people could be free. This isn't freedom, this is fear." and "the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not." and "we're not at war, captain" "they are" and he gets up and he gets up and he gets up over and over and over and he's seventy years out of time and everything keeps changing and every time he gets comfortable something destroys that comfort and he's always losing people, losing friends, losing soldiers, and there's never a clean break with Peggy because he misses their dance and then has to lose her in a separate more permanent way as well, and he loses bucky and finds him and loses him over and over and wants to trust people and keeps getting betrayed and he's trying to be a good man but it gets so complicated but he's still trying even when it would be so much easier to just not try at all and he hurts people because he's human and unfortunately being a superhuman with superhero friends means the capacity for hurt is wider and deeper than anything you or i could dream of but he keeps going and keeps fighting and loses the biggest fight of his life and lives with that every day for years when there are reminders of the biggest failure ever around every corner and then he just keeps going. He's twenty seven when he's unfrozen in 2014, younger than i am now, and the reasonable thing for him to do would have been to get out. leave the fighting and the aliens and the bullshit to someone else. But he's a good man and to him, sometimes, that means being a good soldier and sometimes good men hurt people but that doesn't mean they aren't still good men, it only means they're human and i think people could stand to sit the fuck down and think about what it would feel like to wake up in a year where every single person you knew is dead or close enough to it that they might as well be. there's no option to go make up with a family member he doesn't like, there's no old friends to become new again, everyone he knew is dead and he is still reeling from the fresh grief of losing bucky and somehow, instead of having a perfectly understandable breakdown, he picks himself up and keeps going.

and while i'm here, Tony Stark wouldn't thank anyone bashing on Steve in his defense. You destroy his character in your defense of him and he wouldn't even thank you for it.

[augment-techs]

So, in Digimon Adventure we have these things called "Crests", which are symbols that represents the most strongest qualities that each of the protagonists had. With that in mind, I was wondering, since there are nine crests, out of Jason, Billy, Zack, Trini, Kimberly, Bulk, Skull, Matt and Tommy, which crest do you think goes to each character?

We have the following Crests:

Courage (understanding the stakes and being able to assertively stand up against them for the sake of others) Friendship (being able to trust, connect with, and work alongside others) Love (caring for others and providing them proper emotional support and warmth) Knowledge (inquisitiveness, and a desire to know and understand more) Purity (being true to one’s feelings, simply keeping one’s feelings and intentions straightforward, not being underhanded, and, most importantly, not having malice, acting without any trace of evil or selfish motives) Honesty (doing right on principle – keeping one’s word or promise, not deceiving others, doing things in good faith, an understanding one’s duty to others) Hope (being able to endure hardships and not breaking when faced with impossible odds, holding tight to the bitter end) Light (treasure all life and the right for one to live) Kindness (being perfectly capable of not handling things kindly, but chooses to anyway and understanding when one must take feelings into account and treat things with that consideration)

.....Well, this is something I can play with, actually~

Light: TRINI. It's Trini. There is no contesting this in any universe except the Coinless--and even that Trini, while traumatized a little...not great at sticking to treasuring all life...cares about everyone at least getting a CHANCE at life. *Points directly at Scorpina and Kiya* Knowledge: Billy. But was there ever any doubt? The man collects facts and observes everything and defied Zordon just to SEE if he could get the Green Dragon Coin up and running again. He's a small badass with a brain and we love him. Courage: Jason gets this in any and every universe (including the Coinless, even if he is damaged horrifically because of it). His Primary Color is Red, but this works with Gold, too. It's largely just the rules, but also...he stood up and called his dad out on his bullshit in GGPR. This is his. Honesty: This could have gone either way between Matt and Zack, largely because they both exhibit this trait, but Matt won in the end because of his identity reveal in the Under the Dome Arch in Mighty Morphin. Also it seemed--and still seems--rather important to him in GGPR and most times after that (including this Darkest Hour bullshit). It suits him. Kindness: And moving right along, Zack gets this crest because...well, he IS the Kindest Ranger. In all dimensions, and timelines, he's never been cruel and considers things and people and situations from a very...soft place. And people love him for it--otherwise he wouldn't have seventy-billion acquaintances in Angel Grove. Friendship: Look, I'll level with you, Tommy is a pain in the ass to consider in any way, shape, or form from any dimension or timeline. BUT, BUT, BUT this is his crest. This is his one and only absolute from the second he came into contact with the Power and will probably continue on until he dies. Even Drakkon has a scintilla of this and he's a fucking psychopathic narcissist. *pats the young man with a ponytail on the head* Purity: ....Kimberly is Pink and meets, like, 98% of the above criteria for this crest. Do I really have to going into reasons why? Even Ranger Slayer--if we keep in mind the obedience spell--fits here. Love: *drags out a giant, five story neon arrow and points it directly at Bulk* People can whine and bitch about his og Season 1 bullshit all they want. I do not care. After they get that out of their system, I will simply point to his EVERYTHING involving Skull, the Rangers when he finds out about them, Spike, his personality in GGPR and the rest of the comics and then circle him in shiny gold gel pen ink when I get to the Coinless universe version of this darling man.

Hope: *starts counting off* Probably got dumped by Billy when it became obvious that they were just too different to be close friends anymore, but still tried to look out for him. Steered Kimberly away from making a really stupid mistake after her breakup with Matt. Helped save civilians in a monster attack and gained a (technically fake, but I digress) girlfriend that saw that humanity was worth saving which earned the Rangers an ally. Kept looking everywhere for Candice/Zelya even after weeks/over a month (??). Believes too much in Bulk and Earth to just abandon them when Zelya offered to take him to Eltar. Is trying to improve himself in the aftermath. And this is not including The Sentry Coinless Spy version of himself that survived until the last day before Drakkon became a god--which, by the way, ended with him dying STILL believing in the Rangers. It's Skull.

[thingstomiss]

I promise this isn’t a succession blog but

The ONLY reason, Greg and Tom remain as the last alliance is because Tom knew immediately he had power over Greg. His first interaction with Greg was essentially establishing the dynamic and Greg submitting. There was discomfort at first but Greg adapted quickly and was manipulated willingly. No one else would allow that bullshit from Tom because they could see right through it.

I liked Frank, sad to know he won’t make it through. BUT Carolina? Gerri? You deserve it all babes xoxo.

My heart breaks for Shiv, just a little bit. After her funeral declaration, we knew her fate. A smart woman, sure, but too desperate. Viewed as a wife and mother only. She’ll be cold and distant and she stopped the fighting as soon as the vote started. We saw one last piece of her with the siblings last fight and then she faded fast and hard.

Roman….I have a sweet spot for him that I don’t understand and I think that’s perfectly fine. Him admitting they’re bullshit, him saying they’re nothing. Him smiling to himself at the bar. Someone said this was just a detour for him and I agree. I think he’ll continue to suffer by his own hand and I think he’ll continue to love it.

(Quick note - really appreciating the Roman/Shiv dynamic. I’ve decided to believe their relationship grows and they both benefit from it—even if only in small ways.)

Really curious about the hugging scene between Kendall and Roman. I don’t know what to make of it. Or maybe I do and I just hate it.

I can’t believe I’m going to say this but it’s over so who gives a FUCK. I’m a Connhead through and through. THE eldest son*. Spoiled, self absorbed, and the most well adjusted of them all. Slightly delusional about everything but his family. And resigning to it all.

I LOVED getting to see the three siblings at their moms house. I wanted that and I just wanted that to continue but I know that’s not realistic. I also loved them seeing the video of the dinner with Logan and Connor and the inner circle. The sibs never saw anyone in that video as fully formed people—only saw them as pawns or stepping stones. Truly, we as viewers, saw them that way too. UNTIL we were allowed that moment. Beautiful thank you amazing.

I thought I was gonna be sad it ended. I don’t think I could’ve stomached another season. But damn, what a good and wild ride.

The poison drips through, they’re still just kids making noise outside their dads office (or whatever)

[jujurose222]

I’m very grateful, how do I express this properly? Lord guide me. I want to help the world know this feeling, I want to share it with them. Erratic, ecstatic, elated. I live my life by these. Energetic, electric, no matter the form, I over take them with love.

Let me be unpredictable, I promise you there is a pattern in my madness. You just gotta really tune in to notice. Then once you notice it, your ego will be eradicated. Your ego will “die” so your soul can dance around with mine.

We will live in the land of ecstasy forevermore, because we are familiar with the pattern of immortals.

Silly mortals, they can only see the physical pattern. They can’t recognize the pattern that relies primarily on feeling. The pattern I spend my time growing.

When I take drugs I notice the pattern. It doesn’t make me empathetic. It makes me realize my emotional pattern is reflected in the people I meet, this is the root of empathy. Every single one of us is empathetic, I didn’t notice the root of the reflection game until I took psychedelics.

We reflect each other in every sense. Our emotional turbulence is upsetting our neighbor because they have that same turbulence inside, and because of you, they are recognizing it. When someone upsets you, it’s because they are mirroring your emotional distress. You hate that it affects you so much so you deflect, get upset with them for being upset. “Dark empath.” But they are just showing you a part of yourself. Their ability to feel that stress becomes a gift. It helps you recognize it within.

I blamed everyone else for projecting their bullshit upon me. “God I hate being an empath.” Everyone’s an empath. I just know it well because I’m a lady. I can feel the inner turmoil inside everyone because I know it inside myself. I used to blame them for not dealing with their shit, but really I just wasn’t done dealing with mine. They were reflecting it, so I could keep feeling it and deal with it.

The way the street lights line up perfectly, the way the stars shine in methodical beauty. I notice these simple things. The way everybody looks the same. But when I take it a step further, I realize, it’s a reflection of our insides. A reflection of our emotional game as well.

Rudolf Steiner said everything in the astral is backwards. Where your physical body sees 1234, your astral body sees 4321. Everything is mirrored. What we see as the cause here, is the effect there. Cause and effect here, the effect becomes the cause there.

The astral realm is completely methodical and harmonious. If it’s just a mirror of our realm. Then wouldn’t that make our madness methodical in a sense?

It’s not supposed to make sense, don’t try to understand. Just experience.

Stop getting mad at boys for needing drugs to be “empathetic.” They are just noticing the pattern that the girls have known since their 5th grade friend group, where girls would use their friends trauma to manipulate and intimidate their friends. Simply because they hated that their friends misery was reflecting their own. This is what it means to be a dark empath. You don’t actually feel the other persons emotions, you just logically take their feelings and use them to manipulate and hurt them.

Girls you gotta grow up. “When a guy starts talking to me about empathy after taking a psychedelic.” You are intimidating them the same way your middle school friend group did to you. You don’t know empathy, if you did, you’d realize how scary it is to begin noticing the emotional pattern.

These girls don’t know true empathy, and it’s disturbing me to see them call it by a false word. Then watching the internet hate empaths. WE ARE ALL EMPATHS. The root of all clairs is feeling. This is empathy.

Most of the world is just unintentional dark empaths who manipulate each other consistently because they don’t even realize the FUCKING PATTERN.

KEEP PLAYING THE FUCKING BLAME GAME! GOD DAMN! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! STOP BLAMING EVERYONE ELSE FOR YOUR OWN SORRY ASS PROBLEMS! MAYBE THEY ARE PROJECTING ONTO BUT ITS FOR YOUR FUCKING BENEFIT!

If only you had the EYE. THE I AM. To see. But yall don’t. You only have those two physical eyes.

You keep taking such deep topics and labeling them falsely. Then everyone begins hating them, because you keep removing all the substance.

They keep calling dark empaths, empaths. Because the dark empaths claim their name.

Now everyone hates empaths, but really they just hate the dark empaths.. EVEN THOUGH THE DARK EMPATHS ARE JUST REFLECTING THEIR OWN ISSUES.

But they are so uninformed, they can’t see that.

ITS A FUCKING PATTERNIZED GAME. EVERYTHING IS SYNCHRONIZED JUST LIKE EVERYTHING IN THIS GODDAMNED WORLD!

OUR EMOTIONAL TURBULENCE IS A GAME. THERE IS A PATTERN TO THIS BULLSHIT.

The more you blame other people, the less you blame yourself. In turn, you lose your ability to play the game. You become an npc. The game requires accountability, in every single fucking aspect. Even when it appears that it has nothing to do with you.

You just gotta admit the truth. Tell them the truth. Watch them fucking turn on you. That’s how you play the game, there’s no other way. You gotta let them hate you, because you realize they hate themselves.

You gotta become so okay with hating yourself that their hate can’t hurt you. Then ultimately you’ll overcome hating yourself, and you’ll realize, you got a lot of fucking swag.

The funny thing is, the girls who hate on guys for “discovering empathy” on drugs are the same girls who hate when they’re not empathetic. I’ll make it make sense. Those bitches have never taken drugs. They’re salty that a dude is asking valid questions, and they’re mad they can put what they’ve been thinking into words. They are mad dudes have been assholes for so long, since the “didnt know empathy” but really those same bitches are assholes even being “empathetic.” So they don’t really know empathy, they know “dark empathy.”

“They discovered how to put themselves into another persons shoes.”

Yeah maybe you can intellectually do that. But have you actually felt what the other persons feeling? I have, it tears your heart up. You can’t stay mad at anyone. You forgive everyone. Because feeling what they have felt is like a knife in the heart. That’s real empathy. And you fake ass bitches don’t know it, so stop calling it empathy, because it’s not.

You’re mad dudes have discovered “dark empathy” and it’s not yours to manipulate with anymore.

Have fun manipulating each other. I’m gonna sit in the corner crying while you argue because your guys turmoil hurts me so fucking much. I’m sorry for yelling in capital letters. I know how hard it is to take a step back when it seems like everyone else is manipulating you, even though you’re really the one doing it. Manipulating yourself.

I know it’s hard. Especially when you can’t escape from everyone. It’s easy to get sucked into the pattern of dark empathy. I have empathy for you dark empaths, because I just discovered how long I’ve been playing my part in the game of dark empathy.

I’ve had enough, I’m ready to play the game of real empathy. I always have though. I’m always feeling the people who hurt me. I’m always forgiving them, I just have boundaries.

I’ve been teetering between both, and I guess I might forever as long as I’m human. I just gotta give a name to this shit.

I’m a dark empath and a light empath. Both unintentionally. As I play the blame game above, I’m just trying to understand it all. I just think we have to clarify when people are empathically manipulating or not.

So many girls are dark empaths without realizing, and it unintentionally villainizes true empathy. We have to discuss this. I’m sick of them hating empathy.

The root of all psychic ability is feeling. So when you ask me “how?” It’s because I feel so fucking deeply, so much to the point I can feel every ounce of your misery. It’s not easy, sometimes with that power you have to deflect. But once you gain control, and deal with your own shit. That shit is a fucking superpower.

[peachyykira]

this your praise anon

i have been following you for a while and have realized that we share some unfortunate and bad traits. i blame myself for everything that goes wrong in my life (even if i had nothing to do with it, like when i got rear-ended at a drive-thru! i was just waiting at the window for my food and the dude just rammed into me! sorry, i got off track!). when good things happen (especially if i make good things happen), i minimize it. i feel like i do not deserve the good things that happen. i feel like i only deserve the bad things.

BULLSHIT!

i say this to myself, but not often enough! you are worthy of your own love! you are perfectly imperfect! stop shitting on yourself!

same goes for you! i am rooting for you!

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 you’re so sweet.

It’s so easy to shit on myself because everyone else has been doing it my whole life. Idk how to learn that I deserve good things, and truly believe it. Like genuinely, in my head, everyone has worth by virtue of existing. Except me. And I truly don’t know how to fix it and at this point I feel incapable of validating and loving myself.

I do promise I’m trying. It’s just been a particularly rough go recently and that makes it harder. Partially because it’s all been so hard and partially just because I’m so worn out from all of it that it’s harder to fight the mean brain.

Thank you, anon. I hope you understand how much your kind messages mean to me. 💜

[000life-is-meaningless000]

I often wonder if morality, is a mental illness ?

. . .

My examples in my Reasoning for this is logic is greater than heart, your emotions don't fucking matter look at the vegans look at the hippies saying save the trees look at the animals how they become much stronger because they don't care about morality.

Look at all religion and realize many religions are completely corrupted the priest and the one who run the religion are always lying to the people who are stupid enough to believe them I'm not saying that there is no higher power I'm not saying that spirituality is bullshit I'm just saying that a lot of religions are more corrupted in the government and the government so corrupted, it's an absolute monster.

And, Then there would be an argument for Morality going the opposite direction would you do the right thing so we can sustain ourselves and survive but the other side I look at morality and I'm trying to figure out is this thing a mental illness or not.

Because you also have technical advancements and technical advantages if you were to become immoral and I just can never understand morality what's the point of being good if it limits you weakens you makes you subservient it makes you suffer and torture, you ?

People who are on the path of good usually become the biggest most evilest piece of shits in existence they mock everyone else because they're better than them they're constantly telling other people that they are beneath them, people go on a hiatus and kill a whole bunch of innocent people because they believe that they are ungood Now

I'm not saying that's bad thinking but everyone has a different perception of what is Good and for different Reasoning's !

. . .

I have been wondering if morality really is just a product of one big gas lighting and guilt tripping

The whole thing if you got to have a heart yet if you didn't have a heart he becomes so much Greater in the end we're all going to die in this stupid promise of Heaven is just that a fucking lie

This doesn't even make logical sense it all knowing that he needs you to be good on planet Earth so it can judge you at the end days but it already knows everything and seen everything you're going to do throughout life and there's nothing you can do that's going to catch it off guard or surprise it but "You" still need to be perfectly obedient and give all your money to the church.

🤦🏻‍♂️

But, Being self loving and self-serving and trying to grow yourself like an animal and it improve yourself it all costs and or focus on preserving your species or your race through lust that's a sin

It's a sin to give a fuck about yourself you must only love God it's a sin to care about anything but God it's a sin not to be obsessed with God it's a sin not the fuck God in the Ass, it's a sin that not to Go crazy for God, it's a sin at the Create Porn of God & in, The Name of God !

It's a sin it's a sin everything's a fucking sin !

. . .

Fuck God !

. . .

He's supposedly supposed to be so fucking forgiving he's supposed to be so deep and forgiving but you don't kiss his ass that's the most unforgivable thing there is sounds like an, Unhinged Narcissist !

. . .

The back of the topic of morality I really look at the world and really wonder like what is the purpose of anything what is the fucking meaning ?

. . .

Our lives have no value, our lives have no strive, our lives have no purpose, Why are we even alive ?

. . .

Yet people who feel no guilt at all for the wrongdoing are sociopaths they truly are a good example of someone that has absolutely no fucking morality, WHAT ! SO ! EVER !

So, I Guess, I'm lost, I Guess, I'm Extremely confused I guess my mind is permanently stuck on confusion and people try to pull me out of confusion they only make me more confused ?

. . .

But, it's insane fanaticism from the abrahamic faith over God goes more extreme than most religions do for their deity

People go batshit crazy for an invisible man in the sky they can't even see and talk to people talk to God and they think God's talking back

I don't know what this entity they call God is but whatever it is

Doesn't seem very divine !

. . .

Any idea of going into the sky and being a cloud and being with bird human hybrids and golden fucking rings that have four rings and infinite eyes all around them doesn't sound like a fucking Paradise to Me

It Sound's like somebody dropped acid, LSD !

. . .

Heaven to me you'll be going back to the bug energy heaven to me would go back to being a fairy as I am Heaven to Me we're going back to my home world and escaping Humanity

Heaven to me would never be having to experience planet Earth ever again

( Gaia )

. . .

Heaven to me you would be getting my insectoid wings back and being a fairy again not that I would need the bug wings but it it is a step of the right direction to become more bug,i become more of myself

Heaven to Me would be going back to the old world that I came from before I was forced incarnated here by the Grays and their dumbass and agenda they still can't fucking complete

Heaven to me but also just be Death, because I've always told people this and they never understood how fucking someone could be so God damn miserable that's by all the pain I suffered all the Paranormal attacks

But they suffer every fucking day they sometimes become way more intense and other days they're not so intense but I'm always under paranormal attack always, always, Always !

But, The, Happiest Day of my life will be the day I Die !

. . .

And I really hope I don't see God again, . . . I've actually been with God for an extremely long time I don't like being around him he really is a cocky he says it will prick he'll tell you he loves you then treat you like shit !

I don't understand God I don't want to be with God I don't know what agenda is I don't know his plan is I just want to go back to be a fucking bug in my whole world just that's it that I'm a very simple fucking soul I just want to be go back to my fairy self leave the human race Escape everything and I can only escape this world through getting my spirit to permanently reject My body and leave it forever but also to crack the body So, It can't work ever again also known as Death !

But, I'm not allowed to commit suicide because the Grey's won't let me cuz I'm always under psychic suicide watch

I know that sounds like an unbelievably idiotic and stupid thing to fucking say or schizophrenic but I Solemnly swear to God they are aliens cycling aggressively at all times and all seconds or hours to make sure they don't fucking commit suicide cuz that would fuck up their agenda I am a slave of their fucking agenda of the Grey's !

They want to turn Earth into a hive World also known as Fairyland and No it not going to be full of Faun and mermaids and little midget people you call gnomes it's going to be full of human insectoid hybrids slowly insecticizing !

As the soul already be changed the energy will be permanently changed before the bug body is given

That'll go through Titania to where the soul to be devoured by her judged in her heart that they can if they are quality or material or have any potential become fairies also known as insectoids and then if judge to be worthy rebirth through her or if he has a humanoid form through her pussy if she has an insectoid form later than egg but they can just go off because the egg is made of Aura

you instantly can hatch out of that

. . .

The souls that are unworthy are given second death and that is the end of their spiritual existence they are exhorting to the spirit of Titania as nutrients and they are literally forever Gone

. . .

! Aka, The Goddess Kill Them !

. . .

Titanium clothes bright green She glows every shade of green every Green energy every green aura she looks like emerald green neon green and vintage green she's super green she's pure green !

. . .

And, She's Ultra Mean !

. . .

But then again I don't really think The Grey's are going to get there complete their agenda if they do I promise to fucking make Fae-bie's !

. . .

If they do complete their agenda if they are able to complete their agenda they do actually invade which is like less than 1% they're actually be able to achieve this or maybe it's 1% I have no fucking idea they are really really stupid they are overconfident they are over ambitious they are really really incompetent dumb motherfuckers that don't understand how unqualified they are for a lot of things until reality smacks and right in the face or kills a whole bunch of their people 👽👽👽

And, War they thought they were ready for but they really really

. . .

we're not !

. . .

But under the circumstance of an extremely fluke chance that they're actually able to complete this agenda in the next two fucking years I thought I was able to end myself at 32 but apparently I was wrong cuz I remember that they Said, From The Tall Gray, Said you have to live to 2024 and 2025 to see if the war happens but I don't seem to remember a 26 and a 27 ?

I guess I'm allowed to end myself at 25 I thought I was supposed to end myself in 23 ?

Da Fuq ?

[bellevvalencia]

Love

started November 2023, finished January 27, 2024

“When you finally know what love is,” a friend said when we were fourteen, “write about it and tell me.”

In high school, I talked a lot about love like I lived for it. It didn’t matter that I’ve never had it or felt it or looked for it before. I believed in it and in whatever religious and romantic gift I was promised. I believed that I could speak and think about it very well. I believed that I could express it in words and in actions when, in the right time, I had all the reasons to.

That was probably the case for most of us.

We were kids; it was our job to try to get to know it better and better everyday and find out every year that it changes as we do. It was in our big big hearts and small small brains that we are entitled to it, and we had a right to it, no matter how much the older people disapproved of it.

You’re just kids.

And because we were kids, we’d try, anyway.

In college, I thought it was irrational whenever exes got back together. It should be easy, I’d think, to let go and choose themselves, the potential they could make with other people. Because the feeling could be anywhere. It should be easy to look forward to being single and owning your life with endless options. Because it could only get better, especially when you’re nineteen, and you had all the time and all the light of the world.

It was a complicated idea that I couldn’t quite understand. How do you love so easily when people are hard to love? How do you love so fully when people are picky? How do you love so closely when people always push away?

And when you’re twenty, you’re supposed to be thinking about what you’re supposed to make of yourself. When you think of the scary path and the pressure that beats the pot, giving yourself to someone who had even a 10% chance of eventually throwing it all away seemed like a waste of time.

But suddenly, I was twenty-two, I was willing to die for a boy who would never do the same for me, and I understood why, despite the long rationale, people come running back to each other.

Partially, it’s because it’s never my priority. Mostly, it’s because I got tired of justifying that love should be whatever I was promised it was.

A decade ago, somebody told me that I was lucky to have loved and be loved in return, even if it was only something that I led myself to believe. I am stuck with that line until today. On some days, I consider it beautiful, but on others, when my face is planted deep on the ground, I take it as absolutely insulting.

I would be lying down on the floor after a full day and laughing, thinking, oh my God, is it really that hard?

If I could do all of the things I do right now and do it well, why is this one thing that I lived to tell a tale about so hard?

When I felt what it was like to love and be loved, even if it was only something that I led myself to believe, I decided to call bullshit on love being so perfectly beautiful.

The truth about love is that it is everything that we think it is, but not always. Love is not always kind. It is not always forgiving and it is not always patient. Sometimes it envies and sometimes it boasts. Love is a lot of stupid things. It is an oxymoron. It is good and bad at the same time. It is an irony. It is a crippling reward. It is a miserable compromise. It is a bearable pain. It is big and it is small. It’s in the grand little things. It’s in the little grand things. It cannot be calm without the chaos. Sometimes it lacks. Sometimes it brushes you off. Sometimes it ditches you for a date. Sometimes it leaves you without warning. It is a feeling. It is a very good feeling. It motivates you and inspires you. God, it is a whole lot of different things. It’s in those whole lot of different things. And even then, when it is not always what you expect it to be, it continues to complete you.

I completely believe it. Even a love that is so incomplete completes you.

In your lifetime, you get a lot of chances to find out what love is about, and more often than not, you don’t really get to recognize it as it happens. You love places, things, seasons, and blends. You love a certain weather and you love a certain song that goes with it. You love that one little journal you kept when you felt like you were nothing. You love a certain color and you love a certain person that wears it well. You love that one nostalgic smell that never seems to match any of what you own now. You love a certain place and you love a certain emotion that springs when you pass by. You love that one cartoon show that you only started as a joke. You love your pets with your whole life. You love nature and the sky and the way it makes you feel. You love filling out every second of your everyday. You love your fake life. You love your real life. You love your family and you love your friends and their family. You love people. Damn, you love people. You love your parents. You love your siblings. You love a person. You love a soul. You love yourself. You love God. You love time. You love your life.

When all is said and done about love, it continues to be all the reasons why.

Why do you continue to fight? Why do you continue to hate? Why do you keep leaving? Why do you keep coming back? Why do you dwell in the hurt? Why do you avoid the hurt? Why are you so angry? Why are you so happy?

Why, despite all the knowing, do you still choose to do what you do? To laugh when you find out how hard it is, and to try again when you finally know what the worst of it feels like. Or to leave, let live, and let go, because you’ve had enough.

Love is the answer—even if it’s only something that you lead yourself to believe.

The knowing is one thing.

At the end, no matter what age and season and blend it is, living in it is another.

[strangest-neutron]

[I] can only upload them in particular file types and my phone takes photos in a file type the website doesn't like. I don't know what a file type is.

Computers don't understand what an image is, as far as they're concerned, everything is just a bunch of ones and zeros. Problem is: how do you know whether something is a photo, a video, a song, text, or some random junk?

Well, we make a promise that we'll structure each kind of data in a specific way so the computer can understand it and do what we want it to do. These are file types.

But there are many ways of storing data in zeros and ones, so a lot of people came up with different promises because they had different priorities.

For example, jpegs allow you to store images without taking up too much space, but they don't store the image perfectly, they'll cheat and create some weird visual glitches sometimes. This is very useful for high-res photography since those images can get huge, but the visual glitches only become visible if you really zoom in.

PNGs on the other hand, store the image perfectly, but they'll take up more space. Which is more appropriate for illustration or pixel art where you as the artist want full control.

I don't know what makes two computers connected to each other or not, and how computers connect to things like printers. I don't really understand what "connect" means.

There are two parts to connections: having a physical way of two computers talking such as Wi-Fi or a physical cable connecting the machines; and having a protocol.

Since computers only talk in ones and zeros, computers need a way to communicate with each other, and protocols do that! They'll cover things like "I'm talking now", and "I'm done talking" and "I'll send data over following this specification: <long technical talk>"

Connection means that the two devices are physically connected in some way (cables, or light wave bullshit), can understand each other and start a conversation (the devices basically say "Hi" and then go "If I have something important to say, I'll send it over here, so keep listening.")

Now, as far the end user needs to be concerned this means two things:

You need to ensure you have a physical connection such as the printer is in the same Wi-Fi as your machine, or the printer is connected to your machine with a cable;

You need to ensure your machine can talk to the printer. If it's a cable connection, you need to install firmware from the printer (basically a set of instructions that will tell your computer how to talk with the printer) - the manufacturer's website will usually have them for download. If it's over Wi-Fi, it should work as long as you're in the same Wi-Fi. When trying to print stuff, there should be an option to send it to the printer.

I don't know what a "program" is and how that's different from a "file."

Programs are instructions for the computer, you can think of them as Apps if you like - in fact, all apps are programs. Files are data.

So say, Discord or Firefox or Photoshop are programs because you can run them and they'll tell the computer stuff like "Draw the user interface" and "Do <whatever the app> does" and stuff like that.

Files are just a data representation. Stuff like photos, videos, music ... and programs.

Remember when I said the computer only understands ones and zeros? That also applies to programs, they're just a blob of ones and zeros the computer can understand without needing another program.

Some programs operate on programs (that's how we develop software! Imagine writing something like a browser by just writing ones and zeros, it'd be awful!), some only operate on data like Photoshop opening a photo, or a .psd, and some don't touch files at all, taking input from hardware (like a keyboard) or getting input over the Internet.

I don't know what a "network" is. If the whole thing of computers is sharing files why do I have to email files to myself to access them on a different device

A network is basically just a bunch of computers that can talk to each other. Wi-Fi is a form of network. Bluetooth is a network. Just cabling the computers together (and having the proper protocols installed via firmware) is another type of network.

Now, just because they *can* talk to each other, it doesn't mean you can do anything you want. If me and you were on the same room, I wouldn't be able to look through your bag if you didn't give it to me first - it would be 1) just not physically possible if you didn't give it to me and 2) a breach of privacy if you didn't consent to it.

So, you need to have some way to ship information across a network that's safe (don't want a third party in the same room being able to look through your bag before it gets to me) and consensual. There are a bunch of ways of doing stuff like that but stuff like DropBox, Google Cloud, iCloud or just e-mailing stuff is usually the more convenient and user-friendly route.

Now, there are a lot of small details that I wasn't particularly rigorous here, but those should be the basics for the things you mentioned. Does that help a bit?

Why do 70% of people Understand Computer and refuse to tell the other 30% of us how to achieve enlightenment

[venusthepirate]

like any unloved thing part two : the other woman

Author’s note : here we go ! I listened to the other woman by Lana del Rey on repeat while writing this. Her songs just fit so well with Fawn’s character. I hope you enjoy this ! I'll try to post once a week, maybe sometimes it'll take me longer because of college, but I promise to post regularly ^^

please tell me what you thought !!

Part one \ ao3

masterlist : @avocado-writing​ @little-sunflower-bug​ @evangelineflowers @humbug5 @yume904 @sarcastic-sourwolf

Fawn remembers perfectly the first time she met him. More accurately, the first time he hired her. First meetings are everything after all. So, she wasn’t exactly surprised when her handler told her she had a new client, and that he wanted to meet her first.

“Sure”, she replied, easily, balancing her phone on one shoulder, pressed against her ear, as she busied herself with washing a plate. “Where does he want to meet ?”

It’s not the most unusual thing, for clients to want to meet her first. They probable want to… Assess her, and what their money is going to be spent on, which she can understand.

Her handler had given her the name of the hotel, the one where they always meet after that. She already knew the place, and how expensive it was. So, she’d resorted to dress up a bit, with a nice enough dress, without doing too much : this was just a first meeting, after all.

The room this time had been the seventh. She’d knocked before letting herself in.

He had been sitting on one of the velvet chairs, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. From the first glance she had of him, she could tell he was tall. His hair was dark, slicked back, his moustache perfectly trimmed. He wore navy dress pants and a light blue shirt, the top buttons undone at the collar and sleeves rolled back around his elbows. At first, he looked like all the rich, handsome men who had hired her in the past, but then Fawn spied on the tattoos on his arms, the garnish rings on his fingers. Not quite, then.

She’d met his eyes, then. She had been startled, in spite of herself, by the blue.

“Hi”, she said. “I’m Fawn.”

One of his eyebrows had quirked up, almost as if he was surprised.

“Fawn”, he repeated. He had a British accent, voice smooth. “You can call me Orion.”

You can call me Orion was a bit of cryptic answer. Something told her it wasn’t his real name. People usually said “I’m Orion”, or “my name is Orion”. “You can call me”, though, it wasn’t exactly the same.

“Sure. Well, nice to meet you, then”, she replied, trying not to appear too thrown off.

“Oh, yeah, you can sit, if you want”, he said, waving at the seats in the room.

Fawn nodded, sitting down in one of the comfy chairs, facing him. He took a sip of his drink, his rings clinking against the glass.

“Is Fawn your real name ?” He asked, looking at her.

She shrugged. “Is Orion ?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He looked… Amused.

“Fair point”, he said. “Did the other woman tell you why you’re here, or…”

She frowned. That didn’t sound exactly good. She really hoped it wasn’t a weird fetish or something. God knew how many of those people had.

“No, not really”, she told him, cautiously.

“Right.” He cleared his throat, rubbed at the back of his neck. He looked less assured now. “So, I have what could be considered as a very… fucking time consuming and stressful job.” He chuckled, as if there was a joke in here somewhere. “Look, I just don’t have the time for all the relationship bullshit, and also I don’t really want a relationship, but it’d be nice to, you know, have someone to confide in, the fuckin’… Comfort, affection, whatever you want to call it.”

Fawn was a bit taken aback by his rambling. Also, that wasn’t really what she was expecting.

“So you want me to give you… Affection, then ?”

“Yep”, he said, downing the rest of his drink in one go, head thrown back.

“No sex ?”

“Yeah, no, I don’t need you for that”, he replied, almost in a scoff.

Fawn didn’t get embarrassed about her job anymore. She used to, back when she first started. She would get ashamed, wouldn’t like when people spoke of it directly. It was as much a taboo for her as it was for everyone. But this was in the past, though. Still, it absolutely pissed her off when people, even more so when they were fucking clients, get all condescending and haughty about it.

She knew a good lot of her clients think it. Some might pity her, some downright looked down on her. They could think what they wanted, as long as they didn’t speak it.

“Look, you’re hiring a hooker, so if you can’t get over what I do for a living, I think it’s best if we don’t do this”, she told him, bluntly.

He seemed taken aback.

“That’s not…” He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.” She waited for some kind of elaboration. He raked a hand through his hair, looking away. “I just… I already have fucking hook-ups, but they just want… Sex. It’s just sex, and I just want something that is not that.”

She nodded, slowly.

“Alright. Sorry about that.”

He batted a hand at her.

“You’re fine”, he told her dismissively. “So, are you okay with this, then ?”

“Sure. Not everyday someone hires me for something other than sex, you know, but okay.”

“What, am I the first client who doesn’t want to fuck you ?” He had asked, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Honey, everyone wants to fuck me”, she had told him.

Now, it’s been one months or so since Fawn last saw him, when he told her he was going to Bolivia. The days got colder and shorter. There’s always a bowl of tangerines on the counter of her kitchen, nowadays. She has to admit, they’re very good fruits. She likes the joke of it, too, even though she doesn’t have anyone to share it with.

She’s working her day-job, in a small coffee shop, something cozy, a bit hidden in a corner. She likes that it’s never overpacked with people : only regulars come here. She likes the free drinks, too. Her whole day working here is spent making herself chai lattes and other cinnamon-based drinks, serving the rare clients, and fiddling with the playlist. Today, she settles on some jazz, sat behind the counter as she watches the few people sat inside, and the rest of the world walking by the windows.

She doesn’t make a habit of answering her phone when she’s on a shift, but the day is so slow that when it rings from where she put it, in the pocket of her apron, she doesn’t really think about it when answering.

“Your client Tangerine wants to know if you’re available tonight”, her handler tells her in way of greeting.

Oh. So, he’s back in town.

“I think I already have a client tonight”, Fawn replies.

There’s some conversation on the other side, but she can’t make out what’s being said. She must have him on the line.

“He says he’ll pay double”, her handler finally speaks again.

Double.

Right. Shit.

“Alright”, she sighs. It’s actually better than what she had envisioned her night to go, but she just hopes he won’t make her cancel on other clients as a habit. She can’t really say no to a double pay, though.

“Room 9, this time”, and the line disconnects.

Fawn stares at her phone for a moment after that, until one of the customers comes to ask for a refill. She smiles, slipping her phone back in her pocket, and busies herself with making the drink, something with coffee and a lot of caramel syrup.

When she finally leaves the coffee shop, the night has already set outside. She pulls her fur coat tighter around her. She’s glad she settled on a long skirt instead of a short one, but she’s kind of regretting not choosing pants for today. She decides on heading to the hotel now ; she doesn’t feel like making a detour to stop at her apartment.

The hall is packed when she arrives, much more than the last time she was there. Probably because it’s a bit early, and of the cold weather. She stays rooted in the entrance, overwhelmed with the smell of hot chocolate in the air and the heat of the room. It’s a comforting scent.

She’s glad for her outfit : she looks less like an outsider than last time. The girl from a month ago isn’t here when she approaches the reception desk. It’s a man. He gives her a quick glance, up and down, and then hands her the card key dismissively. As she rides the elevator, she wonders if he guessed why she was here. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was used to girls like her coming in here to see clients.

The room is plunged in the dark when she comes in, but this time, there’s no light coming from other rooms. She frowns, setting her bag done on the couch and looking around.

“Tangerine ?” She calls out, cautiously.

“Here”, a voice says, behind her.

She whirls around, startled, heart missing a beat. He’s leaning against a wall behind her. She can’t make out his face.

“Jesus”, she hisses, pressing a hand against her chest. “Why are you standing in the dark like that ? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry”, he murmurs, his head hung low. There’s a slur in his voice.

Fawn frowns.

“Are you drunk ?” She asks.

He inches away from the wall with a hum, raising a hand to show her the glass he’s holding.

She takes a step back when he comes closer. She doesn’t trust people, and she trust them even less when they’re inhibited. She never accepts drunk clients, and he is not going to be the exception.

“I think it’s best if I come back later, alright ?” She tells him, grabbing her bag from where she had put in on the couch and inching towards the door.

“No, wait, wait, fuck, fuckin’ hell”, he curses, stumbling on his feet. There is panic in his voice, and that makes her stop. She watches as he sinks onto to the couch, defeated, and buries his head into his hands.

She stays rooted in place, halfway between the door and the living-room. But she doesn’t leave, in spite of herself.

Fuck.

“What’s wrong ?” She asks him, the words leaving her mouth before she can stop herself. Her feet take her further back inside, and she flicks the lights on. He nearly flinches.

His arm is in a sling, the wrapping crinkling the fabric of his shirt. She hadn’t noticed in in the dark. There are dark bruises underneath his eyes, and his hair is a mess of curls falling on his face, so different from the way he usually pulls them back.

He looks utterly disheveled, and lost.

She sets her bag down again, and slowly approaches him, standing in front of him. His head is hung low, and she can see the way his shoulders rise and fall heavily. She brushes her palm against the side of his face, and when he doesn’t pull away from her touch, she gently angles his face up so that she can look at him.

“You’re a mess”, Fawn tells him, bluntly.

He lets out a snort, but doesn’t say anything in return.

“What happened to you ?” She murmurs, brushing the curls out of his face. He closes his eyes, looking pained, but leans against her hand. His face is daunted, and Fawn can see the tiredness in his features.

“Just…”, he starts, breaking off. “Please, don’t go.”

He hangs his head down, hiding again, pressing his forehead against her ribcage. She curls her fingers around the hair at his nape, brushing them back and forth on his skin. His shoulders shudder, and the next breath he takes sounds rattled against the silence of the room.

He doesn’t answer her question, but she doesn’t really expect him to. He’s never really confided in her, and he isn’t going to start now. Allowing her to see him this way, to give him the physical comfort he so craves, is already making him vulnerable enough. Talking and putting into words would make it another special brand of real.

Whatever it is that he does, whatever prevents him from being able to get affection from someone else, someone he doesn’t have to pay for, seems dangerous. No one would have that many scars from just… Sitting a desk job. Fawn had wondered if maybe he was in the army at some point, but it would be something hard to miss. Former soldiers are easily noticed.

She doesn’t want to know what caused those injuries. But she can’t help but ask.

She’s heard stories, though, about girls being told too much from shady clients. It never ends well for them. She doesn’t want to be a part of them, doesn’t want to become a mere story used to warn others.

She can’t help but be curious, though. Curiosity killed the cat, and whatnot.

“C’mon”, she murmurs. “Let’s get you to bed, alright ?”

She helps him stand up, and he goes obediently, following her into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed when she tells him to sit. She unbuttons his shirt for him, the skin of his chest warm every time her fingers brush against it.

It’s weird, undressing someone just for the sake of undressing them. She’s not used to the simple… Domesticity of it.

When she finally manages to get the shirt off him, careful not to disturb the sling holding his wounded arm, he collapses forward against her, pressing his face into her shoulder. She holds him back, one hand holding the side of his head, the other curling around his shoulders to settle on his hair. She feels him take a deep, ragged inhale. There’s something wetting her top, where his face is buried into it. She doesn’t say anything.

His shoulders shake, and she shushes him, gently, caressing his hair.

He feels… fragile, beneath her. Like he’s breaking apart in her touch, and she’s desperately trying to keep the pieces of him together. Tangerine’s usually solid, warm, almost like something unmovable. Now, it’s almost like he’s disintegrating into dust and she’s grappling for him to keep him from scattering in the air.

She doesn’t like the way it makes her feel.

She feels close to tears. She blinks them away, staring up at the ceiling. Tangerine may not be used to be touched the way she touches him, but she isn’t used to touch someone the way she touches him either. To care for someone is something… Foreign. Like an old reflex that you thought you had forgotten, only to realize it hadn’t.

The loneliness inside her chest suddenly hurts, as if someone just gripped her heart and carved a hole in her ribcage. She swallows around the sudden lump in her throat.

Fawn doesn’t like to admit it, but she’s lonely. She always is. It’d be difficult not to be, in her line of work. The clients want her body, and other people just wouldn’t understand, so she just… Keeps them at arm’s length.

She feels like the other woman in that song, sometimes. The clients, once they leave, they go back to their families and their homes. Fawn, though, well. She goes home to no one, and nothing. At the end of the day, she’s alone.

Sex is easy. She knows what the clients want : they don’t expect any sort of feelings involved in it. Sometimes they want the illusion of it, but it’s just what it is : an illusion. She doesn’t really care about them, she’s not paid to do so.

Comfort and affection are… Something else. It requires a certain amount of vulnerability, even from her. The lines get blurry.

And with Tangerine… She feels a sort of kinship. He’s like her, in a way. Lonely.

***

When she wakes up, the next morning, the bed is empty. She finds Tangerine outside on the balcony, smoking. He’s still naked from the waist up. She wonders, briefly, how he managed to light his cigarette with one arm.

She slides the patio doors open and steps outside to join him.

It’s still early : the sun is barely peeking out. The air is chilly, her breath forming a little puff of condensation, but at least it helps fully waking her up.

She comes to stand next to him. He doesn’t say anything, simply takes another drag, the smoke twirling above his head.

Wordlessly, she extends her hand for the cigarette. He passes it to her, glancing at her, before looking away quickly.

She takes a drag, letting the hot smoke settle in her lungs.

“I’m sorry about yesterday”, he finally murmurs, shuffling a bit on his feet.

She looks at him for a moment, the cigarette hanging from her fingers. He doesn’t look back, but he must feel the weight of her eyes on him.

She sighs, taking another drag, and turns away to stare at the city. The sky is painted in a pale pink, the clouds almost golden. It’s a beautiful sight.

“It’s okay”, she finally replies, quietly. “Just… I don’t want my clients to be drunk when they hire me, alright ?”

He glances at her. She doesn’t flinch away from his gaze, and he nods. She hands him back the cigarette, their fingers brushing, and watches the way his throat moves as he swallows.

“Drunk father ?” He asks.

The question surprises her. She has half a mind not to answer him.

“Addict brother”, she replies, eventually, quiet. The admission floats between them, heavy. She doesn’t look at him, throat suddenly dry and choked up.

She’s never said it aloud before.

“My father was a drunk”, Tangerine tells her. “Still fucking loved him, all that… bullshit, you know. My brother, though, he kinda hates him. Maybe because he’s the eldest or shit.”

It’s the most he’s ever said to her about himself.

Fawn turns away so he doesn’t see her expression.

They lapse into silence, until she feels like she can speak again, without her voice doing anything embarrassing like wobbling and breaking.

“How was Bolivia ?” She asks.

She regrets asking immediately when she sees the way the line of his shoulders tenses. He lets out a chuckle, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. There’s no humor behind the sound.

“Fuckin’ terrible”, he says, after a moment. He flicks the cigarette off the edge of the balcony and rakes a hand through his hair. Fawn reaches for him to grasp his hand. He stills, looking at her as if surprised, and immediately relaxes against her touch. His fingers are cold. She drops a kiss against his knuckles.

“C’mon”, she tells him. “It’s freezing, let’s go back inside.”

She takes them back inside the bed, tucking the sheets around them both. He curls up next to her, breath shaky. She simply holds his hand, until he falls back asleep.

She watches him for a moment. His face is lax, in his sleep, soft, no tension or pain. She wonders how he is with his brother. She wonders if his brother looks like him, or if he acts the same way as he does.

The thought of brothers steers her to her own, so she closes her eyes and tries to think of something else. She won’t be able to fall back asleep, but she can get a little more rest.

When the clock starts inching towards ten a.m., she carefully extricates from him, making sure not to wake him. She pulls her skirt back on, adjusting it around her waist, and shrugs her cardigan on, buttoning it.

Tangerine starts stirring awake when she starts pulling her boots on.

“You leaving ?” He grumbles, voice laced with sleep.

“Yeah, I have a shift at eleven”, she replies, finishing zipping up her right boot.

“A shift ? He repeats.

“I work in a café.”

She probably shouldn’t have shared any more personal information.

“Oh”, Tangerine says, sounding surprised.

She hears him shuffle in the bed, and when she turns back towards him, he’s pulling a stack of bills from God knows where.

“Here”, he tells her, handing her a part of it. Just by eyeballing it, she can see that it’s way more than double.

“That’s way more than my usual rates”, she says.

He shrugs, unbothered.

“Look, I don’t want your… Pity, or whatever this is”, she insists, trying to hand him back the money.

He frowns.

“It’s not.”

She shakes her head, incredulous.

“It’s too much”, she repeats.

“Jesus, it’s not fucking pity”, he sighs. “You don’t take drunk clients. I was fucking drunk. Take it, alright ? Just let me… Apologize with fucking money.”

She snorts, in spite of herself. She eyes him for a while, before giving up and stuffing the bills inside her bag. He grins, for the first time since she came in the room. She’s glad for it.

“Alright, take care of yourself, alright ?” She tells him. He opens his mouth to answer, but she cuts him before he can say a word. “I don’t know what the fuck you do for a living, and I don’t want to know, but be careful.”

His grin widens.

“Is that concern ?” He asks, sounding like the cat that got the cream.

She rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue.

“Just concern about losing my source of income”, she retorts, shaking her bag full of money for emphasis.

“Wouldn’t want that to happen”, he nods, sagely, still smiling.