#but like shouldn’t you be able to vent to family?

[thewholeworldatyourfeet]

-

[acesammy]

man how do you tell someone you literally do not have the emotional bandwidth to deal with their breakdown

[sassycheesecake]

Hii I love ur blog and I was wondering if you could do hc's of salusa kiyoomi, komori motoya, atsumu miya, and hoshiumis type of s/o? Thanksss❤️‼️

Hello little cake! Of course I can! I hope it is to your liking ❤️

Kiyoomi Sakusa

I am 95% sure Kiyoomi would have a s/o who is more on the quiet side yet still confident

Since he is dealing with loud teammates on a daily basis timeskip, he prefers it if it’s more quiet

Obviously his s/o can have their silly moments but they should know their boundaries

Kiyoomi would definitely look for a s/o who can take care of themselves, physically and mentally

His s/o would also have to bring great patience and understanding into the beginning of the relationship

It takes some time for the Outside Hitter to warm up to someone

But once his s/o has broken down his walls and melted off the ice-cold facade, Kiyoomi is the most attentive boyfriend

He cleans, he has impeccable hygiene and incredibly smart

He 1000% has a routine for how to do things at his home or how he spends his day, his s/o has to accept his busy schedule and adjust to it

THE BEST LISTENER!

Kiyoomi may not be the best advice giver but if you need to vent, man‘s gonna listen without interruption

Invites you to all his games and you need to wear his jersey

I headcannon Kiyoomi is a very jealous person fight me

Please no nicknames for him (his partner would get the famous scowl)

I can see Kiyoomi dating someone who does not have a lot of contact with other people in their work life, so probably IT or a writer for example

Tolerates medical field workers😂

Motoya Komori

Motoya is on the tier list of golden retriever boyfriends

He’s so understanding, so cute and very romantic

I think it doesn’t really matter to Motoya what his s/o looks like or if his s/o is more quiet or more loud

Motoya grew up with Mr. anxiety himself, so he knows exactly what to do if you have panic attacks or suffer under panic disorders

But with every professional athlete, Motoya needs someone who understands his busy schedule and shouldn’t get mad about him going away for quite a while on away games or longer training days

Trust is everything to Motoya!

His s/o shouldn’t be a sarcastic person, Motoya would get annoyed by it eventually

Lowkey needs Sakusa‘s approval

Motoya has a high social battery, so his s/o should be able to handle lots of meet ups and social outings

His partner should be able to get along with his family, especially Sakusa since he is very close with him

Communication is also very important to Motoya, his s/o NEEDS to tell him if something is bothering them

Atsumu Miya

Cheeky asshole (my bae)

I can see Atsumu going for either a confident person like himself or someone submissive

Either would work but it would be more compatible if his s/o would be more submissive (even in the bedroom)

His s/o would also have to be tolerant of his direct behavior and shouldn’t take everything he says directly to heart (Atsumu can be mean at times and if he’s mad or moody, his s/o shouldn’t be too sensitive about it)

Atsumu needs a s/o who is smaller than him, he is a big teaser and loves to be teased back

S/o shouldn’t be afraid of physical affection, Atsumu is BIG on pda (kissing in public, occasional butt squeezes)

His partner shouldn’t be too clingy, Atsumu is very dedicated to his sport!

If Atsumu loses a game, his partner should be respectful about him wanting alone time or comfort

His partner can be athletic or in not so top shape, yet he would probably prefer one that can somewhat keep up with his stamina and go on runs with him or even train with him

His s/o HAS to get along with his twin brother, if they don’t like each other, it’s an absolute NO-GO for Atsumu (he may never admit it out loud but Osamu is Atsumu‘s whole world besides volleyball)

Kōrai Hoshiumi

Seagull boi

Would need a s/o who doesn’t mind his loud mouth

His s/o should be his number one fan and be quite feisty and a proud character

His partner should definitely be around his height or taller than him

Kōrai is a very competitive person, he would love to have a partner he can have bets with or fight against (like gaming, playing sports etc)

Kōrai doesn’t care what body shape his partner has, he will love them regardless

The bigger nerd his partner is, the better

Would have to be a big fan of animals, since his best friend is a vet and Kōrai occasionally has pets staying with him

Probably will adopt like 2 dogs with his s/o

[jisatsuwaifu]

Life is incredibly frustrating, stressful, and exhausting. Everyday I think “it’s okay, it’ll get better, try again tomorrow” but it just keeps proving me wrong. When I think things are getting better and I can finally relax, something else comes along and puts me right back into panic mode. It’s always something, there’s never a break. I never feel safe. All I do is complain about how sad or frustrated I am and I’m sure everyone around me is sick of hearing it. Which is fine, I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by misery when my life is good either or listen to a broken record when there’s much better music to be heard. I am my own responsibility, I shouldn’t rely on others.

My thoughts consume me. Not in a cutesy I’m just a girl cringe kind of way but in a “I need to go to sleep as soon as possible to prevent an accident” because I cannot trust my own head to comfort me but to only make scenarios worse or feed into my paranoia. I am not built to be left alone. I constantly feel like I’m too much and not enough. I’ve never felt more loved but also so alone in all my life. Everything is black and white there is no grey areas with my mind.

I just don’t think anyone knows or understands how thin I’m being stretched and how badly I’d just love for everything to stop and to be able to catch my breath. Just for a day. I’ve cried for help but I don’t think the one person I need help from genuinely hears me. I dont trust many people to begin with. There’s only so much a single person can take before it starts to cripple them. And I know I can be over dramatic and too emotional at times but this genuinely feels like the end, I can’t see past this point in my life. And the sad part is I do not know how I got here. Or this far to begin with. But I am so tired. It’s times like these I wish I had my mom back or even just a family to lean on and seek advice from, but I can’t even entertain my own sister long enough to talk on the phone with me. I don’t understand why I exist or what my purpose is if all I’ve ever been exposed to is pain and abandonment. There’s some aspects of my life that I know I serve a purpose for and want to make proud, I’m trying my hardest for that one thing. I just don’t want to cause anymore damage than I already have. I can’t be like my mother.

I just needed somewhere to vent, some outlet. It won’t change anything. I feel hopeless and empty again. I might just delete everything. I don’t know.

The best I can do right now is try again tomorrow.

( if you read all of this thanks for listening to my rant and I’m sorry I wasted your time when you could have been scrolling onto something cooler like tiddies or anime idk but ty anyways <3 )

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 29 - Reassure

Story so far

Sometimes the time to talk comes before you think you are ready. Sorry Virg.

Apologies in advance for the overuse of …

…

… I blame Virg’s half-drugged inner monologue. And also Alan.

💚💙❤️💛🧡💚💙❤️💛🧡💚💙❤️💛🧡

“It’s my fault Virgil got sick.”

To Scott’s credit the look of incredulity had passed very quickly and returned to concerned big brother as he prompted “what makes you think that?”

Alan was several sentences into his attempt to turn a confused childhood memory into a coherent narrative before Virgil suddenly realised he should have objected to that initial statement. Damn. Not that it would have made any difference, probably… a Tracy determined to accept blame was difficult to redirect… but it wasn’t a great look not to have disagreed at the outset.

Maybe he should say it now, just in case?

He sat up a little and opened his mouth but belatedly realised the rest of the family were now hearing about something deeply personal Virgil had hoped none of them would ever find out. Especially not Scott. He blushed, well aware that objectively his little coping mechanisms from that… time… could sound desperately unhinged, even before he got sick and he hadn’t even properly heard how Alan had described it so he could explain and damn he’d stopped listening again and Alan was still talking…

“… and of course I was a compete idiot wasn’t I because it wasn’t a ghost hug Virgil meant at all it was… more like a memory? Of a hug? And I knew I shouldn’t go in there but… but I missed him…” Alan suddenly looked back up at Scott who had frozen in place, both hands still wrapped around one of Alan’s eyes flicking between him and Virgil “… I mean you. I missed you too and I… thought maybe if…if I went in you’d come and I’d get a hug again as well but then… tried to balance the mug… so stupid and I ruined everything… and he… he looked so sad I couldn’t breathe. And then he got sick… so…”

Virgil just shook his head and moaned a little in lieu of speaking. His eyes were squeezed shut but could feel them all looking at him. He had to clear this up, he had to get his brain in gear. He focussed on the pressure of Alan’s skull against his clavicle and forced himself to lift his eyes to meet those of his older brother…

… who stared back at him, his face bewildered and bloodless. Scott’s lips parted as if to speak but he didn’t seem any more capable of forming words than Virgil did.

“It’s been you with the clothes!” Gordon suddenly burst into the awkward silence. “I was blaming Grandma…”

Alan flushed and looked down again.

“I just… didn’t know how to help and I hoped it might… help.”

Big brother mode re-engaged, Scott put a hand back on Alan’s arm and offered firm reassurance without moving his eyes from Virgil for a moment.

“It did.”

Alan nodded, then buried his face back into Virgil’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Virgil”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Allie.”

Virgil’s voice came out rather squeakier than he’d intended so he held his little brother close and swallowed hard.

He knew from observing both Scott and Gordon as they underwent therapy that it was supposed to be good to revisit this stuff - it was good to deliberately remember and to vocalise the things that haunted you… all of them. He’d reminded them often enough. Gordon had quite naturally found himself able to vent to Scott or to Virgil. Scott… well despite Virgil’s efforts he hadn’t let them in for a very long time, not until quite recently when circumstances forced his hand. Even now Virgil knew Scott’s instinct was to shield them from what was going on in his head, rather than let them help. But he had always spoken to his therapist and so Virgil had had to be content with that.

And Virgil had confided in… precisely nobody. Because really, compared to what they’d each been through... well. Dr Clifford had pointed out only a couple of hours ago that the same advice applied to him too - that eventually the acknowledging and the speaking would take the power of the memories away, the ones that lurked and gnawed at his very being.

But of all the times and places to start… the tiny incident Alan was torturing himself over was one of Virgil’s hardest moments. It had been the tipping point between the living nightmare he recalled and the one he… didn’t. The time reality caught up with him and he lost hope. The moment he had finally let go.

The moment he’d actually lost Scott.

And lost Virgil too.

But Alan didn’t know that, all the guilt-ridden child of his memories knew was he’d upset his brother, that after that Virgil hadn’t wanted to look after them anymore.

This really wasn’t the best time. He wasn’t quite sure he’d know how to put it into words when at his best and he definitely wasn’t. And he really, really needed to get this right. Because even putting therapeutic best practice aside, this wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about Alan, Scott… all of them.

“Ok. Ok, so… I guess I should explain some… uh… stuff.” Virgil’s voice was still shaky and he paused as he was suddenly hemmed in by a Gordon on one side and a John on the other. Scott dropped one of his hands from Alan’s to rest on Virgil’s foot. Thus surrounded, he found the words suddenly came a little easier.

“Allie… it really wasn’t your fault. Uh, I’m going to be honest, because you’re not an idiot but you have to hear me out… Right to the end, ok?”

Alan nodded and pressed the side of his face to Virgil’s chest. Scott hovered in front of him, looking stricken, but didn’t interfere.

“I still don’t remember a lot of it very well.” He used the back of his hand to wipe non-existent sweat from his forehead then ran his hand through his hair while trying to summon up the strength and focus to say this the right way.

“But I do remember that night quite clearly and, yeah I was… upset. Not with you, not really with you, but the circumstances and… yeah you’re right that was when I started to… lose my hold on… um, things.”

Alan closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Virgil’s shirt. Virgil watched his face for a moment, his heart squeezing as he noticed the depth of the shadows across his little brother’s cheekbones. He’d clearly been tormenting himself the last week or so and it had gone undetected. Cut from the same cloth as his eldest brother, said torment had clearly done a number on his sleep schedule.

“But, Alan you have to understand this, it wasn’t because of your little accident. If it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else… maybe something Dad said in passing, or something Gordon made for dinner, or looking at the colour of the sky and thinking how much Scott would have liked it.”

“But it WAS that. I made it happen. It was me messing up.”

“No, Allie, no. Listen to me, it happened… inevitably… because I wasn’t coping. I couldn’t do it. No, don’t look at me like that John, it’s true… I have a go at Scott for trying to do everything, be everything but I’m such a hypocrite because when it was my turn I tried to be Scott AND be Mom AND Dad all at the same time and I didn’t know how to… be me? Without…. Without Scott, you know? I didn’t give myself even a moment to work that out because I was scared I wasn’t enough on my own and so… I kind of pretended he was coming back still and it all had to be… ok… when he did come back… and so….” John’s fingers had tightened almost imperceptibly on his shoulder and with a little start Virgil realised he was still verbalising all these thoughts and everyone was looking at him.

He cleared his throat.

“Uh, anyway. The point is it wasn’t you, Allie. It wasn’t working. I was barely sleeping, wasn’t really eating. I knew it at the time but didn’t admit it because I thought I was letting Scott down… because I promised him to always look after you all, no matter what.”

There was a quiet moan from his older brother and Virgil suddenly had absolute clarity about what he was going to say next. Because Scott needed to hear this. They all did.

“The thing is Allie… the thing is… Sometimes people ask you to make promises that… aren’t fair. Promises that are so much bigger than they seem at the time. And when that person is gone, if the promise isn’t really possible… if it isn’t healthy to try to keep it… well... What I should have done is asked myself what Scott would have told me to do.”

He looked up and met his big brother’s eyes which were shining with unshed tears.

“You should have taken care of yourself! You shouldn’t have burned yourself out for me. I never wanted that, I never meant to ask that! I’m so sorry, Virgil.”

“I know you didn’t. And I should have then too, I was just too busy trying to do everything and be good enough to let myself think about it.”

Virgil waited, watching the emotions flicker across Scott’s face, wondering when the penny would drop. He’d know when it did, in some ways his brother would always be an open book to him.

Ever such a slight widening of blue eyes and then an almost but not quite concealed frown in his direction told Virgil his point had landed and that more words would inevitably be exchanged on the subject.

Later. He’d deal with that later.

For now, he could almost feel the adrenaline dissipating and for once he allowed himself to drift without complaint. He knew he couldn’t go far this time, grounded as he was by the not insignificant weight in his arms and held up by the unrelenting affection on every side.

[mischiefmaker615]

Bloodline (Pt.2)

Part 1

Rating: R dark themes

Summary: unable to gain children from his wife, Loki seeks out a mortal who can do it instead.

She hated herself for it, for not feeling as angry as she should towards the man that was using her. She shouldn’t be able to even look at him, let alone ask him to stay with her.. but here he was beside her, sitting down on the bed as they both kept eye contact to themselves. She was pregnant, and she trusted him that it was the truth, you’d think magic would be just as accurate as a doctor visit right? These past weeks of their..  ‘’routine’’, she’s become numb to his cruelty and- dare she say it, used to it. the struggle was gone..

‘’…you must really love this place.. to even go beyond the extent for it..’’ she whispered and her gentle tone made him turn and look at her, his expression still unreadable but it was gentle at the same time.

‘’I’m sure you’d do anything to protect your home.. the people you care about.. -I’m not expecting you to understand.. I’m not saying all this is right.. but..’’ he trailed off, not trying to justify that what he did was right, but.. he had too. He looked away from her, guilty making itself known after all these weeks of pushing it down.

‘’I’m sure I would understand if I had family.. I was orphaned as a child- to this day I’m not sure exactly what happened, grew up in the orphanage and got kicked out officially when I became of age. Lived every day just working, sleeping just to wake up and do it all over again-.. I didn’t have a purpose..’’ she explained, looking down at her hands as her heart beat past, not sure why she was giving her whole life story when she really should be killing him.. but where did her hate go?

‘’..didn’t?’’ Loki asked, looking at her as she finally raised her eyes to look at him back and she gave a mild shrug.

‘’one could argue that I can finally feel like I’m useful.. I’ve lived every day on repeat, no one back there would miss me.’’

Loki looked at her as if she were strange, raising a brow as he studied her features. ‘’..you were chosen because you resembled a goddess.. how do you find yourself unseen?’’

She sighed and her hand instinctually began playing with a lock of her hair, trying to register how she should feel that he called her beautiful, her cheeks reddened all the same. ‘’..others have different definitions and expectations as what they see as beautiful.’’

Loki merely shook his head, his mind wondering off as she looked at him as if reading his mind.

‘’not all mortals are idiots though.’’

The choice of words actually made Loki chuckle, knowing she knew what he had been thinking as those mortals had seemed to have terrible taste if they didn’t find her in their standards of beauty. ‘’well, you are most certainly the first mortal I’ve seen in my life time that I would call beautiful.’’

The conversed for a little while longer, small talk having a small hint of awkwardness to the whole thing considering how their relationship had started, but the small teasing here and there made it a bit easier to talk to each other. They mostly got to know each other, no one daring to talk about the whole reason why she was here, but merely about their lives, likes and dislikes- childhood and hardships. Loki most certainly surprised himself on opening up a bit to her, and the “venting session” as she called it, made him feel like there was an unknown weight off of his shoulders, as if he finally had someone he could talk too.

A feeling came to his chest, not guilt anymore- although it was very much still in his stomach. He hadn’t felt it in such a long time, not since he had started finding interest in Sigyn. Was it.. fondness to this particular woman before him? he half listened to what she was saying and upon realizing he was indeed feelings he was developing, he quickly stood up- startling her.

He kept his voice gentle with an apologetic bow ‘’I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to frighten you, I just- I must depart right now- but I shall return.. to deliver dinner.’’

Another meal brought to her like a prisoner, and the mere sentence made her features lower just slightly- which didn’t go unnoticed by Loki as he looked away from her. ‘’..i shall return..’’ he promised, as if a second reminder would make her feel better- why did he care?

She was to be bred.. nothing more.. who was he to reassure? To explain himself to her.. of gods.. he cared.. he was guilty, he was growing fond of her.. why? She was indeed beautiful, his lust was getting extremely difficult to hold back as he longed to touch her, to have her come undone.. to have a connection deeper.. but her spirit, her fire and getting to know more of her life.. kept him wanting more..

“norns..’’

He cussed as he went down the halls in a rush, as if getting farther away from her room would help think all this wasn’t happening. His whole plan was simple: gain a child and that was all. Why.. did he have to fall for the mortal.

Yet he did just what he said. Upon delivering her evening meal, she asked him to stay.. and he did. The small voice in his mind told him he shouldn’t get attached and just leave once everything was finished upon stepping through her door, but it was to late. He was attached. They began speaking more, even laughing and Loki staying longer than he knew he should.

Sigyn would question his whereabouts, why his attitude had changed to a lighter tone but he merely reassured her that he was just content that Asgard had been safe through this time and would simply find different places to read- as to not cause suspicion nor would he be able to find him. part if him felt guilty at the same time that he was also betraying her, that although there was no real love towards her as a wife, he was still cheating on her behind her back. The other part of him felt alright with it because having a child would mean Asgard was secure and.. he finally was putting his happiness first..

That mortal woman was the first joy he had in ages only because he had fallen for her. It pained him to leave her and his loins ached for her. Ever since he found out she was pregnant, he had not touched her. Nor had he had time for himself and his wife would no longer suit his interests. Yet he got what he wanted, the child was damn near close to being born now, whenever he began to get hard when he would check on her, he would cut the meeting short and leave. He would not touch her now that he knew he no longer needed to.

An Asgardian child grew faster than a mortals, and the “potion” he had her drink daily allowed her body to adjust. Yet the due date came faster than he anticipated and although she felt fine like she wouldn’t go into labor that day, his magic told him it ad already begun. Despite her being confused, she always took his word for things because this was his realm, and he knew better so she trusted it.

He was able to convince her to fall asleep, so there would be even less pain and so that she wouldn’t get attached to the child if she saw him or her. A healer would be accompanying him and to her little knowledge, he had placed a spell so that she would forget most and think the one who had given birth was his wife.

Upon waking up, his precious mortal felt like nothing had ever happened. even her groin and stomach felt as if it were yesterday. Yet Loki stayed with her anyway while she got out of her daze, and to her surprise- she took his hand.

‘’what.. what happened?’’

‘’you have given birth love, the healer is now caring for the baby.’’ He said gently, sitting beside her on the bed as she lay still and looked up at him with confusion.

‘’oh.. and once the baby is all cared for?’’ she asked with hesitation.

‘’then our healer will lose all memory of her assistance and I will merely bring the child to Sigyn.. she will be a good mother, I promise..’’ he said gently, trying to ignore the guilt that rose again and how awful the words sounded leaving his mouth while she looked away from him.

‘’you will be a good father.’’

Loki’s lips parted, wanting to speak but words found it hard to leave his mouth. Her words were spoken true, he could sense that- even when he knew he had hurt her and all that he had done. He didn’t know what to say, he just gazed at her with the sudden need to protect, the gather her in his arms, to hold her.

‘’is it a girl or a boy?’’ her sudden words brought him back and he took a breath with a gentle whisper.

‘’it’s a baby girl.’’

Loki wasn’t able to see the small smile that tugged her lips, nor her tears as she kept her back to him. he had a hesitant hand raised to want to turn her towards him, but he stopped. He knew she was hurting, and all of this was because of him. turning away, he stayed with her a little while longer in silence before he finally left, hearing the faint cries through the door as soon as he shut it.

Damn it. damn it all…

He had held back tears upon seeing the child be born, but he didn’t want to go see her without.. her. For the mother not being able to see her child.. he understood the logic of it, but knew it was hard on her as well. And to not even being able to comfort her through it all. Damn it all!

He knew what he had to do.

The same boots that pounded through the halls to get her that day long ago pounded down the same halls to get her now. Loki practically ripped the doors open, startling her as she quickly wiped her tears from where she sat in a panic and looked at him concerned.

‘’what’s wrong? is the baby- what happened?’’ his darling mortal gasped as she saw the bruise on his cheek. She hesitated to see a small smile on his face despite it. ‘’..did Sigyn-‘’

‘’there is no more of Sigyn.. I’m done.’’

‘’but.. but didn’t you say the-‘’

‘’fuck the bloodline-‘’ Loki claimed, cutting himself short by the uncommon language that left his mouth he usually didn’t say. It must have been from spending time with her that he picked up some mild habits. Regaining himself, he took a deep sigh as he looked at her with a forced gentle voice.

‘’I’m done- I’m done with all of it.. you have been taken, then taken advantage of.. impregnated, isolated and now the child in which belongs to ‘us’ isn’t even able to be with you- I am the king of Asgard and I must protect its people, but if this is the king I have become then I will gladly step away from the thrown if it means I am to feel like this for the rest of my life!’’ he practically shouted at himself, looking away shameful as he paced, only to be stared at with wide eyes at his words.

‘’Loki..’’

‘’I have fallen for you love.. I can no longer contain myself nor deny it.. there is nothing I can do to rewrite the wrongs I have done.. only to try to improve on what I do now. You will be returned to Midgard with the child and-‘’

‘’no!-‘’

Her words stopped him as he stared at her, her voice being the loudest she had ever let it as he stayed put, watching her get off the bed and stand before him, grasping the nightgown to her body.

‘’..she needs a father.. I can’t do it by myself out there.. to not know who you are.. its as if its best if you and Sigyn keep her to yourself so she can grow up with two p-‘’

‘’Y/N..’’

Y/N stopped, being called by her name for the first time as she shook where she stood, tears threatening to run down her cheeks as she bit her lip.

‘’the child will have a father.’’ He promised and kneeled down before her, his head down as he felt his own tears threaten to fall. ‘’I will do everything in my power to help you, to help you both, to be there, to support you.. to love her.. and to love you if only you’d allow me to.. I’m done here. I can’t deny my feelings for you any longer.. and if you are to reject me, then allow me to love her as a father..’’ he whispered and closed his eyes as he breathed.

The hand on his cheek made him open his eyes as he looked up to her gentle ones, tears falling down the cheeks of both as he leaned his face into her palm. ‘’we will have you Loki.. it will be okay..’’

Loki slowly placed a hand on her own, knowing there would be much to take place but he knew the truth was better than to live a lie of lies and guilt. Sigyn would be okay, and deep down he knew she knew they were over a long time ago. As king, laws will have to change. It wont be easy, but he’d find a way to make them possible, and right now she was looking more of a being with power than he ever did as he slowly stood up but she kept his hand in hers.

‘’..let me see her..’’ she whispered.

She will be a great mother..

‘’yes.. my queen..’’

Final ♥

[endomentendo]

Now before you read this, please know I want to get through this on my own. Don’t read my essential crisis right now if you don’t want my goober self depressing you. I just need to vent, I’m okay… I think.

You wanna know why I like wonderland? Why I say absurd things or confusing remarks towards anything? Why I like the spiral from the Magnus archives?

Well it’s because I think I might be in a more confusing state of my life, mentally I think. My life is normal, fine, wonderful! I love my friends and family, I love my parents, I love my family.

But why do they love me? What did I do to deserve it? Am I selfish and unpleasant? Am I just a selfish man who won’t get a life? I don’t know. And this is where my mind keeps playing tricks on myself. It’s not helpful when I’m stuck in two life’s to which only one of my parents is aware. Understand I’m apart of a religion and was raised believing in god. But after the split, my world was shattered, only for a while. But after a few years I’ve now gotten into a double life, and was given a different world view. Tugged on one side to the other back and forth. I’m struggling trusting each of my actions. And understanding who I am.

This lead to me getting more and more confused. Now I’m asking questions what’s real or what isn’t? I’m questioning the start of the world, I cannot comprehend how a start is possible. Call me dumb because maybe I am, but why did the Big Bang explode? What even caused it? And if there was a cause, where do they come from? Why were they there to begin with?

Then questions became only assumptions of whatever came to mind. Then more questions. Why is there color? What even is past the color wheel? Why do specific food kill or support us? Why do we need food? Why are there germs, tiny things, MICROSCOPIC THINGS!? Why do they serve their purpose, are they even aware? Do I unconsciously crush an entire ecosystem, invisible to the naked eye, KILLING what were innocents who never knew I never knew of them.

Now I’m realizing how made up everything really is. There is no such thing as a name, we give names in order to know who is in front of us, to announce. Shouldn’t we remember by faces? Or mentioning a feature? Then again familiarity is also made up. Everything is made up! History made for us to remember, but that’s all it does. Capitalism is for order amongst chaos, but all we’re doing is making a made up system of passing cotton paper to each other just to feel like we earned something. It’s useless, pointless.

I’m afraid to go back into the dark of my eyes, to sleep and see nothing, yet be able to look around. Sweating as my anxiety grows.

Time doesn’t exist, it’s just there for us in order to comprehend age. Birthdays are pointless since we don’t grow up on one day, it’s every day. It’s pointless to show appreciation of your birth. Even my death is pointless. Even if I did something that is know in the world, no one would care after a year or day. It’s pointless and it doesn’t make sense. Why do we exist? What purpose?

To live? To have freedom? To serve? To feel like we are important in an empty impossibly vast universe that it too could be made up?

I don’t know why I’m afraid of pleasures, is it fear of god or disappointing others? Everyone else does these things, but why do I feel ashamed? Why do I hate myself when my actions would be forgotten once I’m gone. Why would we be gone?

WHY?

Why am I bringing this up? For affection? For others to suffer as well? Or for someone to say how hypocritical I am? Or how selfish and nonsensical it all is?

Please dont respond. I just want to understand…

[meanqueens]

To me Rhaenrya kinda came of as selfish with her comeback to Alicents speech.

Like Alicents speech is pretty much her saying how much she's sacrificed and been hurting all these years, and Rhaenryas response is essentially 'yeah, I already knew that'.

Like for all that people say Rhaenrya is feminist, she saw and knew that Alicent was miserable all these years, being stuck in an unhappy marriage and like never did anything about it, not even really comfort her or try and change Alicents way of thinking. Heck she never even got mad at her dad for how shit he treated alicent.

She kinda just comes across as a woman who doesn't necessarily care about broader justice for all women, but more thinks the rules shouldn't apply to her in general. In the very least she was a shitty friend. 😕

thank you for your ask!!

alicent really let loose when she charged with the knife, and what she said was better than i could have hoped for. she really got to vent, and it was delicious. i’m gonna put the whole quote in bc it’s so important to alicent’s character progression, and rheanyra’s response says so much more:

I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please. … Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It's trampled under your pretty foot again. … And now you take my son's eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.

when alicent says this, she’s all exhaustion and viciousness. this is the last straw; for all the awkwardness that comes with her relationships with her children, she loves them and one has been maimed. and nobody cares! no one is standing in that room saying, “hey, maybe we shouldn’t just sweep under the rug that aemond lost an eye? maybe we should seek some recompense?” but no, it’s like she’s screaming into a black hole; no one, not even the boy’s father, is taking this as devastatingly as she is. the focus is, instead, on the legitimacy of rhaenyra’s children. yes, this is an important issue, one that could hypothetically get the boys and rhaenyra killed if it’s determined that she’s attempted to put bastards on the throne. however, there is room for both issues in this situation, but viserys and rhaenyra push that rhaenyra’s is valid and alicent’s is not. and the rest follow suit.

now back to alicent’s speech itself. she’s finally speaking her whole mind, she’s letting the court see her as she is. and what is she? a victim of a system that pawns off young girls to the highest bidder, regardless of their own happiness. but how do they see her? as mad. and rhaenyra sees her as unjustly righteous, a performer. but this comeback actually seems to wound alicent; you can see it in olivia cooke’s performance as the knife begins to shake, her brow creases, her lips wobble. she looks like, “what? no. i wanted none of this, but it was my lot. and it’s hurt me all my life, can’t you see that?” she has been forced to give up everything, every piece of her, while rhaenyra has not only been able to remain herself, but feels entitled to do so in a world of women who cannot.

it seems to me that as long as it didn’t directly effect her, rhaenyra could turn a blind eye to what alicent was going through. that’s rhaenyra’s version of reform; if it effects her, it should be changed (for her), and the rest of the realm can fend for themselves. is this the mindset a queen should have?

[yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation]

Lo'ak leaves Spider Scarred: Part 5

This part talks of suicide. Please if you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts seek help. Talk to someone, anyone.

Part 4 found here

Lo'ak couldn’t bring himself to move after Norm closed the door. The human's words repeated in his head, ��You scarred him for life… you did that to him… scarred him for life… go home Lo'ak…’

Tears streamed down Lo'ak's face, dripping from his chin onto its hands. One of which had small scars covering the knuckles and back of the hand, scars made from broken exo-pack glass. The same broken glass that… that… With a yell Lo'ak curled in on himself, what had he done? The sound of feet growing closer pushed him into action. He didn’t want to be seen like this, crying and broken.

Moving at a speed humans could only dream of, Lo'ak fled the room. Running down the hall and sliding around a corner just before the pounding feet entered the room he had just left. Fearing the person in the other room would follow him, Lo’ak entered the first unlocked room he came to, closing the door behind him.

The footsteps moved further away and Lo'ak sighed, turning around to place his back against the door. He was in a room. A room with very few decorations or personal touches. The mirror was covered with a towel, and a handmade beaded bag lay on a desk at the foot of the bed. Lo'ak recognized that beaded bag, had helped patch it up enough times that he could never forget it.

This was Spider's room. In Lo’ak’s memories this room had always been filled with color, from pictures covering the walls to trinkets and knick knacks lining the shelves. The Spider that lived in this room was… lost… broken… different.

Turning to leave something caught Lo'ak's eye. A book, laying in the vent where a human would not be able to see it, they were too short. A Na’vi on the other hand was the perfect height to see into the vent.

Lo'ak knew he shouldn’t have read the book, shouldn’t have read Spider’s journal. It was supposed to be private, his innermost thoughts and feelings, but Lo'ak wanted to understand.

Lo'ak didn’t know what he had been expecting, but he could say he wasn’t expecting to read about Spider wanting to end his own life. Wasn’t prepared to read about the times he had tried but failed to end it all. The middle of the journal had been lighter, full of happiness and hope, thanks to the reappearance of Quaritch and Lyle in Spider’s life.

Lo'ak remembered when the news had come that the last two demons had been found and killed. His family had rejoiced, his parents had thanked the Great Mother for ridding the world of the demons. Yet Spider's journal told a different story. A story of a loving father and uncle that left everything they had known to be with Spider. A story of two lost souls that had learned to see and love this world. A story of the pain and anguish Spider had felt as he cried over their bodies, as he dug their graves and wished he could climb in with them.

Spider had described in great detail the clearing he had buried his father and uncle in. A clearing Lo'ak knew.

Max said that Spider had radioed to say goodbye and Lo'ak now understood what that meant. Heart pounding Lo’ak left the shack and ran as fast as he could to his Ikran. Radioing Norm and Max to tell them where to go as he flew through the air. Praying he would get there in time to save Spider's life.

He had failed his best friend once, Lo'ak couldn’t fail him again.

The clearing was quiet, when Lo'ak landed, peaceful. Atokirina gently floating through the air as they glided towards a small body laying in between two larger mounds. Spider had a smile on his face, one arm outstretched as if seeking comfort.

The Na'vi didn’t need to check to know Spider was gone.

“Norm” Lo'ak croaked, struggling not to sob. “I was too late.”

“No” Norms pain filled voice yelled in his ear causing the Na'vi to flinch. “No!”

“Keep him with them, it’s what he would want. Just read the book, you'll understand. But keep him with them.”

Removing his ear piece Lo'ak placed Spider's journal at the his feet before turning and mounting his Ikran. He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t face what he had done, what he had caused.

Spider was warm, comfortable and pain free. He had no idea where he was, but was happy to remain blissfully ignorant for a little while longer.

Last time Spider had felt this comfortable was after… after Norm had stopped him… after his dad and Lyle had died. That thought, the thought that he had been stopped again had Spider sitting up, eyes wide as he looked around. He was in a forest, a Pandoran forest. Reaching up to adjust his mask, Spider's fingers were met with bare skin. He couldn’t figure out what was going on. Last he remembered he was forcing himself to breathe in the poisonous air of the only planet he had called home, before everything went black.

“Hello” Spider called, voice unsure.

“It's about time you woke up kid.” Spider spun to his knees before climbing to his feet. He recognized that voice, had missed it everyday. Lyle lounged against a nearby tree, smiling from ear to ear. “Gave your dad quite a fright when we found you, unmoving. I had to explain that he was the same way when he first got here.”

Spider's eyes lit up. He couldn’t care less where he was of his family was here. “Dad? Where is he?”

“Spider!” A second voice yelled from behind him. Spider turned smile growing even bigger. One glance was all he needed to see of the Recom before he was moving, running to his dad. Quaritch dropped to his knees in time to catch Spider as he barreled into his chest.

“Oel ngati kameie, dad.” The human whispered. Quaritch kissing the top of Spider’s head softly before whispering back.

“Oel ngati kameie, son.”

[our-trans-youth-experience]

not experience-is (vent tw) sorry but

I need to come out. I can’t keep living like this. I’m 16, I shouldn’t have to live like this.

It hurts. This feeling.

My family… is weird, when it comes to queer stuff. Well, my brother is alright, but my parents kind of suck? Like they love me and all, just hate what I am. It hurts. It sucks.

I want to go to school as a guy. I want people to look at me and call me “he”

but if I come out people will only laugh. It never goes well for queer kids at my school. Never physical bullying, just picking on people until they leave the school.

I don’t really care about the people at school though tbh. I’m just scared.

But I’m missing out. As I’m getting older we’re expected to be maturing. I’m meant to like make up and dresses and shave my legs, and it’s becoming clearer and clearer to everyone around me why I’m not doing any of those things. It’s not a cute kid phase to them anymore, it’s some gay agenda. I just feel like I’m missing out. On the shaving my face and wearing suits and growing taller and being a boy who’s becoming a man. I’m missing out and have to settle for a girl who can’t yet become a boy.

I hate it.

There are a couple of teachers at my school who I could tell, I think. But I don’t know if I want to.

I’m so scared. Coming out is scary, but staying closeted seems worse. I just. Don’t know.

I’m sorry for venting.

No need to be sorry, vents are always welcome <3 I am mostly closeted myself, and I understand how much it can hurt and how awful it can feel. It's not just about the way you view yourself but how others see you, and knowing that they likely don't recognize you as who you really are is really horrible. Coming out is terrifying, and please *DO NOT COME OUT IF IT IS UNSAFE TO DO SO*, however if you are in a situation where coming out is possible, I do recommend that you come out to at least one person. In the future, they may be able to help you come out to more. Additionally, coming out doesn't have to be big or in person. Out of the people I have come out to, almost all have been through sending them messages online, because it's less scary that way for me. Lastly, remember that when you are older, you can live the boyhood you missed out on. Even if it's late, it will come and it will be brilliant. You will be able to shave your face/wear suits /grow taller/become a man soon enough, and I can't wait for you to get there :)

[shego1142]

I know yall probably know about poverty and generational poverty and what not but I just want to vent….

Because like… the things people don’t like know about generational poverty unless they’re experiencing it is just how… trapped you feel… weighed down by absolutely everything.

See I honestly think something may be up with our gas line

Which is a terrifying thought.

Now, idk if it’s a leak per se (though we’ve got the windows cracked just in case) but if we turn on our stove the gas smell is really strong, the flame flairs out of the sides of the stove, etc.

Shit that shouldn’t be happening.

Shit that is really fucking dangerous.

We know this is dangerous, we’re not stupid.

We know we should get it fixed.

But here’s the thing, okay?

The floors are just base boards, they’re falling in and there’s holes everywhere.

There’s rats that we’ve tried every trick in the book to get rid of, short of hiring an exterminator. We’ve borrowed traps, had traps “gifted” to us, tried poisons that friends and family have bought for us, etc. It cuts them down but they come back.

All of our food is in thick sealed plastic containers and yet they’ve eaten some of the containers open. They even ate our soap and makeup and cleaning supplies and that didn’t seem to stop them. (Our soap and cleaning supplies are now in plastic containers too but idk how long it will deter them, and the makeup is thrown away)

We have shoddy wiring in the house, done by my own grandpa back in the 70’s when they first bought this place.

Our roof has cracks in it that have failing patches, done by a family friend.

Our AC doesn’t exactly work very well and it’s been reaching 100°F weather (with 70% humidity no less) and to fix it we’d need $10k at least, but we’d also need new flooring, so it would likely be more than that…

Etc.

And like, it’s not that the house is dirty, but that it’s falling apart.

And here’s the deal… calling someone who knows what’s what about houses to check the stove means calling someone who is going to inspect the whole house, someone who’s going to say:

“hey uh, your gas is messed up and your electricity is messed up and so’s your plumbing… Your floors are bad… we have to condemn this house and if you can’t pay to fix it up then you’re going to lose it.”

And it’s not like we got this house and destroyed it by a lack of maintenance, this house is like, 50+ years old, and has been my home since I was born.

My grandma and I couldn’t take care of everything because my grandpa had Alzheimer’s and he was going downhill and it was me and her caring for him.

My health is really bad and I can’t work a regular day job because of it, but I haven’t been able to hire a lawyer to apply for disability, so we’re living off one income and whatever side gigs I can do from time to time.

We don’t have the money to pay the mortgage, buy groceries, pay the home insurance, the gas bill, pay medical bills, buy pet food, etc and also then pay for our house to be inspected and potentially condemned for things I didn’t even do in the first place, things that came before I inherited this house…

My whole family has been poor my whole life, from my great great grandparents to my parents, etc.

It was always “you don’t pay for a professional to fix it, you either fix it yourself or get a family member or a friend of a friend to fix it”

Which means that if we ask a building inspector to tell us what’s wrong with the house… well… it’s going to probably be everything. Because this house has never been “professionally” fixed, it’s only ever had family members and friends of family members slap duct tape over glaring issues and say they’ll only charge you a glass of sweet tea.

Which means it’ll probably cost nearly the entire value of the house to fix tbh.

I just feel like I’m on a ship that’s sinking and way more water is coming in than I could ever manage to get out. I keep trying to patch the leaks but the materials just not available, and besides, if I stop bailing out the water for even a second to go and try and patch the leak, I’ll go fully underwater.

And you know, it’s not fair. It’s not right that it’s like this. This is our home and we love it. This has been my home for years and we love this house, this land, the trees and plants that grow, everything here is loved. It’s cared for. We try to take pride in it.

But you wouldn’t know that because we’re too busy trying to bail out that sinking ship. We’re too busy from constantly working and cleaning and repairing.

It’s not okay that it’s set up that way. We need help, we need community. We should be able to call someone and be like “Hey, we love this house, we’ve never been late on a payment, we’ve worked our butts off to try and keep things going, but we need help. Can you look at everything this house needs to function and be in good condition and help us get those things?”

Like, hell a payment plan option would work, wouldn’t it? Why isn’t that the done thing?

I mean, I know why, the more houses that are taken from the poor means the more real estate that’s available for the rich, they’re already trying to make our whole neighbourhood into some corporate venture instead of a residential area. And besides, if they manage to make us homeless they’d be just as happy throwing us in jail for the “crime” of being homeless and poor and making money off free labour.

Like that’s why it’s normal practice not to help anyone keep their home when they actually have a home. The system is set up for you to fail unless your family is at least moderately wealthy.

It’s just such an unforgiving cycle. And I know I’m beating a dead horse with this vent. I know that like over half of America’s population is likely in the same shitty place we’re in.

It’s just… I’m so tired of being in cycles like these.

I’m too sick to work, too poor to afford to get on disability, and both too poor and too exhausted to go to the doctor to get proper treatment, and it’s just a loop.

I’m too exhausted to fix the house, too busy cleaning the house to rest, too exhausted to make money to have professionals help fix the house, rinse and repeat.

The house breaking down is very likely making me more sick, but I’m too sick to be able to get the house fixed.

My grandparents didn’t have money to fix the house, my parents don’t have money to fix theirs, I don’t have money to fix my house.

Every step forward is like ten steps backwards and I genuinely don’t know what the solution to all of this is.

I feel so fucking trapped. I don’t even have the energy to run a gofundme for myself to try and get the help we need, because it takes so so much to to actually get a gofundme up and off the ground, I have tried before and it’s always been a failure because I just literally never have enough energy for it.

We have so many things we’d love to do. We’d love to make this house into an eco-friendly, sustainable home, with solar panels and a huge garden. We want to make a farm stand with fresh eggs and vegetables and fruit and let it operate on an honour system, so anyone who needs food can take what they need and pay what they can, yes even if it’s $0. I want to crochet hats and mittens and set those out too, for sale or just for those who need them…

We want so badly to take care of our community… but it feels like our community isn’t there to support us, not because people don’t want to support one another but because we’re all trapped or are being prevented from supporting one another.

Because having a farm-stand means you need to buy business licenses… building a sustainable home means you need to buy a building permit.

Every step of the way feels like good intentions are wasted, road-blocked.

I can’t even begin to explain how many jobs I’ve applied to, writing, editing, working as a cook or a waiter, data entry, etc.

In school they told me I’d be able to do anything I wanted to. I was a “gifted” straight A student and as I’m sure many people on this site know, that’s not bragging. It’s the opposite. The school system, the system that is supposed to help me be successful in life, told me I would be, and now I would be lucky to make $7.25/an hour while living in a place where the minimum liveable wage is $35/an hour.

It costs $35 an hour for one person to live moderately comfortably in my town. And this isn’t an arbitrary number, it’s literally on our county’s government ran poverty assessment website.

And that’s not a thriving wage it’s a surviving wage. It’s Home, Food, Utilities, Transportation & Clothes.

It leaves no room for medical care, comfort, entertainment, etc.

So what the hell are those of us who are working for anything less than that, or those of us unable to work, supposed to do?!

And like I said, I know I’m preaching to a choir rn, I know everyone is experiencing some version of this. I just… I need to be able to express it from time to time. To talk about how unfair and ridiculous and needlessly cruel this is.

It’s so deeply flawed and evil that we’re unable to have legitimate health concerns inspected because we’re worried about the house being taken away from us.

It’s trash. It’s inhumane.

And if anyone has any like… suggestions or advice that would be great… I’m considering just having our gas service canceled by our gas company and buying a small electric grill instead… but our gas also powers our hot water heater so…

:/

[jmesther]

My mum just scolded me for five minutes straight. (for being “depressed, secretive, and double faced”) One thing she said was you’re dishonest with me. I couldn’t say nothing to her because I’m bounded from saying such a thing. This is what I would’ve said: I’m dishonest with you because I don’t trust you. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust with being vulnerable with you. You’re not a person to be vulnerable with. You have show me time and time again: You are not trustable or reliable; you are not someone to be vulnerable with; I shouldn’t let my guard down in your presence. And to be clear, I don’t trust no one in my family. It isn’t just my mom, it’s especially my mom. She thinks I’m depressed because I have no friends. And she says to fix that I should go to brick & mortar to school. I’m depressed because of her. I’m quite accustomed to not having friends now. I don’t just want any friends cause they could also be bad influences to me. She says I got that because Dad made me adopt that mindset. I said I’ve seen it everywhere even in church camp they were a bunch of kids say not good stuff. I’ve had a conversation with an adult. She said yeah, schools are like that. The Internet tells me schools are like that. Dad doesn’t even tell me that a lot anyways. He said that once or twice my entire lifetime. Since my mom is prophetic and dreams a lot, she says well I saw you jumped off a bridge in my dream. She wasn’t wrong at all. I just kind of looked at god like “Seriously you told her that?!?”. I still think about it a ton, but I am very confident in myself that I won’t ever actually do it. Simply because I’m fully aware that I am not done on my time on this earth and I still have to do things not because I want to, but because God still needs me to do things on this earth. And even if it just helps one person so be it. And I know I’m going through process that I need to learn how to deal with things completely alone only with God. I think it’s a great idea that he put me through this process. Because it lays a great foundation for the rest of my life. It helps me learn to have faith and trust him and him only and then I’ll be able to add more people in my life as I go on. Is it painful? Absolutely but the end result is a treasure. Not to mention, it could also be used as a testimony. Then she says (arguing with Dad) you haven’t seen our children (me, and my brother) cry at night. I have to deal with them all alone. That’s laughable. Mom haven’t seen a fraction the amount of times that I have cried. You might be saying “she can probably hear you at night”. I cry below a whisper. The indication that I’m crying is tears are falling out otherwise my breathing and my voice is even and unwavering. I’ve had people walked into my room as I was crying as long as I had my face turned away from them. They did not notice. I even laughed as I’m doing it. So she can actually hear me she be more concerned about what I’m whispering (Talking to myself in other words, venting to myself. Done for years it works.) than me crying. Also my parents are seniors.(50+) They cannot hear well. My entire lifetime, not including when I was crying as a little kid. my mom is probably see me cry about 9 times. I have mental breakdowns daily, ok? If my mom actually knew she would send me to therapy. Why am I posting this on the Internet? Idk it’s therapeutic. Also, someone might have advice although I doubt I can actually use it.

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Library mouse {Doom idea]

So this was SUPOSED to be an exercise for me to work on Valen's character finding someone in need of help but…

you have Valen finding a borrower, inspired by @horseyneigh2002 and @raventroll80 's borrowers in DOOM ideas.

will this be more then a one shot? likely not but it was cute and so fun to write a softer side of Valen. Cassidy is a little soft been, no matter what I yeet her as/in, please pat her gently and don't scare her.

Library mouse: [full story in link]

She did not trust the rain anymore. The small girl, a young woman, looked up at the window that used to be her favorite place. Somewhere the employees of the library did not know to look, and the very few that did know this place were a trusted few. Like the maintenance man that knew of her, and when he was doing the morning or nightly rounds would put a small treat for her there to enjoy in what used to be the warm morning and cozy warm evening light from the window.

The small window was almost boxed in with the tall book shelf, so the sun through the glass always warmed up the cubby no matter the season. Spring was the first warm spot away from a heating vent, the summer the excess heat bled out from the open top entrance over the bookcase. It was always a warm safe place to watch the fall rains, and toasty from the few sunny winter days. 

Cassidy pulled her legs up on the miniature couch the late maintenance man had made and gifted her family. If she pulled the blanket over her head and closed her eyes, she could almost pretend her family was in the other seats or at the table their size. That the sound of rain was real and not something unnatural.

It was not even the same warmth as before, but all the little blankets and lap covers still smelled like her family. Or she thought they did. 

Cassidy looked up, making the mistake of looking out the window and seeing the hellish storm, not keeping her eyes on the table. It twisted her stomach and she was not sure she could even sip her tea any more. The girl curled up in the soft padding of her spot, tucking the blanket around her, speaking to no one really. “Rain shouldn’t be orange…”

She felt sick, and sighed before getting up, rubbing her arms and started to fold and tie up the rest of the blankets and pillows in this area. The last of the things she had to gather up before sitting with her cantine of tea. Not able to pretend anymore that the world outside her library had ended. 

Her world inside the library seemed to have ended as well with the death of old Harold, the former maintenance man this last winter. Cassidy could not go to the locked entrance of the library anymore, not able to face what was left of her family’s once long term guardian and friend. 

The young woman thought of the stories from her grandfather and Harold, who might have well been another grandfather, in their youths. Those stories of how they became friends and traveled the bigger world outside of the city, kept Cassidy’s mind busy to get the things she wanted on top of the book shelf and slowly back to her home. There was a special data crystal at her home that she was keeping safe there and she wanted some of the extra pillows to give some extra padding. 

“I miss being a fairy,” Cassidy noted aloud a few hours later, standing in her home. The one that Harold had helped her make after the outside world ended. Sitting in one of the chairs he helped make in the practical field of clover inside the case. It was one of the semi clear areas that was inside the once extensive display case. 

Once it showed a fantasy world the library used to make up with votes. Some patches were growing clover that was almost as big as she was now, most had still healthy moss. Other areas were carefully corralled areas that had bark and rotten wood and her main source of protein, isopods. Cassidy had a little house she could use, with a hatch that led down to the underside of the display case where all the supplies that Harold had left her were safely placed for her. More things were outside of the case, mostly massive gallon sizes of water and juice bottles with the ‘faucets’ that the human made.

It should last a long, long time, Cassidy was barely through one of the water ones, even with watering the clover and moss. She was trying not to use the ones under the case as much as she could. 

Cassidy had gotten water moved up that morning, and was making a salad with fresh clover salad now, a little bit of oil and herbs left to her helped make it seem fancy. She had fresh tea and was sitting in the safety of the display case. Pretty much ready for the evening and night, and deciding if she wanted to sleep in the little house or down in the lower section of the display case. 

Being ‘inside’ was nice to keep the temperature even compared to the library on a whole when the temperature dropped and rose almost randomly. 

There were vibrations that came and when, as normal now. They were all far away and distant outside of the library. It was muffled more so thanks to the display case, almost like fireworks in the distance if she pretended again. Evening was turning to the now normal night, or what passed as night. 

A rusty orange tinted light still filtered through the few uncovered windows. What little power there was from the building generator was more than enough for the led fairy lines around certain paths in the library and in the display case she made home. As long as no bigger lights were turned on, the power might last her lifetime. 

Cassidy fiddled with the handless, pale cream cup that had her tea, thinking about that. Of what she would do tomorrow. Feeling sleepy from the chamomile she just sat at her little table and started to not think. 

Tap-tap. 

Cassidy startled, looking up and half expecting to see one of the monsters.

She blinked at the very, very tall human in armor looking back at her with confusion. He seemed so much bigger than any human she had met, or seen from a distance, broad in the shoulders and had heavy scarring on the exposed face. He had white, short hair on top of a mostly shaved head. His eyes startled her too, an odd thing to focus on, but Cassidy had never seen a human with black eyes.

One black and the other was silver and white?

Cassidy blinked again, before the tiny woman hesitantly waved a greeting.

The massive human blinked and he shifted, Cassidy noticed his armor. It had to be armor like the knights in the books she had read and been read too. A helmet was grasped in the metal hand of the strange human, his other exposed hand had tapped.

“…are you the little one on the message out front?” The deep voice of the human was low, trying not to let his gravel edge scare. Yet Cassidy could hear him even through the glass of the case.

“Message?” Cassidy echoed before remembering seeing that Harold had written many things in blank books as well as messages on the whiteboards around the library. Some to remind her to do things, encouragement, and in the entry hall where Harold had settled to sleep for the last time, a message asking any other survivors to be kind to the small one still living in the library. “Oh…yeah… I guess I am. Are you going to take everything? I don't have much.”

[celestialspark]

statements from the gap started with me writing a one-shot based on this drawing by @starfleetrambo​

Now that the fanfic has reached the original statement, I can post how I introduced the story in the beginning!

“Mrs. Robinson!”

Jamie looked up from the reception desk when she heard the young man who had been pacing in the entrance hall for the past half an hour call out to the Head Archivist.

To ignore the archival assistant – Michael? –, Jamie had been gluing her eyes on the logs and records of everyone coming to work today despite not processing even one name in them.

Now, the Head Archivist was finally arriving at work, way past noon. Jamie had given up on making head or tails of the Archives’ work hours anyway, but the timing of Gertrude’s arrival felt like she had been called in because of what had happened.

The receptionist almost let out a bitter laugh.

What could the old lady do anyway? Archive all the names of the employees that had disappeared? Write letters of condolence to the families of the employees that have mysteriously vanished? Being able to explain what the bloody hell had happened?

“Go back to your work and don’t talk about what happened.” That newly promoted Head of the Institute had obviously been furious when he came down the stairs. But the moment he looked at his employees, he had switched to a cold and calm tone – as if it had been their fault. What a prick that Bouchard was.

Did he even know what had happened? He hadn’t been down here. He hadn’t seen the child. He hadn’t felt the cold—

Jamie wanted to cry. She wanted to go home, throw herself under a blanket and just know that she was safe.

She wasn’t.

The longer she stared at the list of employees at the Magnus Institute, the more she knew that she wasn’t. There was just that knowledge gnawing at her brain.

Michael’s ramblings barely reached her ears. Only when he stopped, she noticed. Jamie looked up and saw both Gertrude and Michael staring at her. She flinched. There was something in Gertrude’s eyes. A certain kind of hunger. A thirst.

Then, a calm observation from the old lady: “I think you have something to tell me. Come.”

Jamie moved almost automatically. She shouldn’t be leaving the reception unattended. Especially not after what had happened this morning. She wanted to run away from this place. She wanted to be home. Despite everything, Jamie followed.

Gertrude wasn’t waiting for her as she walked with brusque steps towards the basement where the Archives was located. Michael had something like a look of pity for the receptionist before he quickly ran after his boss ere he was scolded by her.

In all her years of working here, Jamie had never been down in the basement before. It was dusty and the vents only did the bare minimum. It was suffocating, and Jamie immediately was back in the horror of today’s morning.

She barely noticed the way the other archival assistants down here looked at her. But she felt uncomfortably seen.

Closing the door to the Head Archivist’s office at least protected Jamie from them.

Throwing her cardigan over the chair, Gertrude fished for a tape recorder and sat down. She didn’t pause for anything. Neither for explaining nor for Jamie being fully sat down as well.

Instead, she clicked on the tape recorder.

“Jamie Barnes. Incident occurred at the Magnus Institute, London, 1st of July 1997. Gertrude Robinson recording.”

And Jamie knew what she had to do.

Jamie’s statement can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47153620/chapters/119564914 The fanfic can be read in any order but for the best way to speculate and theorize, of course the posted chapter order is recommended :)

[zhangyulian]

PAINT ME RED WITH YOUR BLUE - Snippet # 2

Also inspired by listening to 2step by Ed Sheeran

Another idea hit me when I woke up this morning. I need to write it out somewhere before I forget. A little background info: Spider, the Sally’s, and the Metkayina are introduced to the same versions of themselves from a different universe, sans the other version of Jake and Spider. Things get a little complicated and uncomfortable. And a little angsty. Enjoy!

Spider didn’t know how to react anymore. The past few days have been nothing but a whirlwind of confusion, mixed emotions, and very complicated feelings towards a particular person. Or alien. Would one consider a different version of someone you knew from a different dimension an alien? Every time they made eye contact, his heart leaped into this throat. Those golden eyes—alive, not dead, but was dead, different, yet the same, but not really. They bored their way into his soul and through it, ripping him apart, exposing him until there was nothing left. He could tell this new Neteyam was clearly older and more experienced, but he still carried the same mannerisms and expressions as his deceased counterpart. And kept a respectable distance, which Spider was grateful for. But then, there was that look he gives Spider every time they found each other’s gaze. Spider saw the sadness, the guilt, a dark possessiveness, but there was something else. Something that every time it happens, Spider can’t breathe.

The human boy was very aware of why him and Neteyam had drifted apart. He understood and even encouraged it, agreeing, knowing this would be for the best. Spider had snuck out to see the Na’vi boy intent on persuading the other, cementing a promise between both of them. Neteyam refused to listen to him at first, venting his anger that it was unfair Spider couldn’t be part of the Omaticaya, that he couldn’t be part of his family or anything close to him. He confessed to loving the human boy and couldn’t imagine a future without him, despite what everyone else thought or said. Everything was all wrong and that it shouldn’t be this way. Spider moved to comfort Neteyam, rocking them back and forth while the Na’vi boy cried in his arms, holding onto him like a lifeline. They both knew a child Spider’s age shouldn’t have to say “I understand”, that a child Spider’s age shouldn’t have to lecture his ten-year-old friend about his responsibilities bestowed upon him as the next Olo’eyktan and the dangers of being too close to someone like him. That he should focus on something better.

That hadn’t gone over well and resulted in a very heated argument that almost became physical, Spider was surprised the other animals hadn’t come and attacked them. In an attempt to make some type of peace, Spider joked through his own self deprecating smile and own set of tears that maybe in another world, in another life, they could have been more. They had to keep their distance. To protect everyone they loved and everyone else’s hearts and future, at the sacrifice of their own. Neteyam didn’t say anything else, eyes looking up towards the sky, as if he was begging them for help.

Neteyam walked away from Spider that night, accepting his fate. But not before they embraced one more time. Spider made sure to remember those beautiful golden eyes that couldn’t belong to him, burning them into his brain. It was the same look Neteyam gave him when he lay dying on that rock—the sadness, the guilt, a dark possessiveness and something new—regret.

When Neteyam glanced at Spider on his dying breath, the human wanted so badly to comfort him, to embrace him, to tell him everything was going to be okay. Yet he couldn’t. As he laid there dying, Neteyam was still honoring their promise because his family was there. And Spider knew it. It broke Spider’s heart that Neteyam stayed loyal to him in the very end, but it shattered Spider’s soul that as he did the same for Neteyam, he would never be able to tell him one last time that “I love you.”

Spider had suppressed both memories so deep in his heart, he wanted to forget.

His Neteyam, his brother and friend, the keeper of his heart and soul, died because of him. Nothing would absolve him of that guilt. And probably never will. They gave his body back to Eywa mere days ago only for another version of him to suddenly appear. Alive. And even worse? He had learned from the new Lo’ak that not only had his version of Spider and Neteyam been close, but they were lovers and promised mates.

Was this some cruel joke from the universe, or perhaps Eywa’s way of punishing him? To remind him of his sins against someone so perfect, he didn’t deserve him?

Spider didn’t know anymore. It was too much for him to attempt to process on certain days and on others, he would think about taking off his mask under water or finishing what Neytiri had started and plunge a knife into his chest, ending it all. But when he was functional, he’ll continue to avoid this new Neteyam like the plague because he promised his own that he would stay away from everyone they loved to keep them and their hearts and futures safe, at the sacrifice of their own. This promise was the only thing he had left of his Neteyam, and he would honor it until Eywa took him from this world.

[kzmeru]

you give your love to me this way

─ warning(s) ; mentions of familial problems, insecurities and slight self-deprecation

author’s note ; hai :3 i wrote this as a vent kinda(?) felt silly tbh i swear im okay :> i just need my silly izumi to comfort me until the day i die bc

Sleeping at night had always been difficult, especially while living in a loud household. Your nights were spent burying your face into the pile of pillows, your headphones on max volume, anything to keep the noise out.

For nth time of the week, they were yelling at each other, again. Holding back tears, you stared up at the ceiling, completely unable to do anything to stop your parents from arguing, nor did you even have the energy to.

Silent cried occupied the dark room, before your phone lit up and started to buzz.

"What the hell…" You groaned, wiping your tears away as you grabbed your phone from the bedside table. As you saw the contact name, your eyes eventually lit up.

"Hello? [Name]— are you crying?" Quickly picking up the phone, it was expected that Izumi, no other than your boyfriend would be able to tell that you weren't feeling the best. "Ah… was it not the best time to call?" He sighs, with a hint of worry in his tone.

Wiping your tears with your sleeve, you immediately denied it, laughing nervously as Izumi stayed silent.

"Wait there." Was all he said before he hung up and left you hanging.

The yelling had stopped, but their argument and the words they had said during it was something that you couldn’t forget. Maybe, just maybe, it was all my fault. You thought.

Pulling your legs against your body, you curled up into a ball and sat in silence. "Maybe if I wasn't born, they wouldn't be fighting…" You whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. No, I shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Izumi?" You deadpanned, opening your window as you saw your lover outside. Your boyfriend, who had climbed up the window like you're in a cliché romance novel.

Izumi huffed, dropping a bag on your bed. "You're crying." He says, his eyes refusing to leave your figure as he examined you. "Stop crying. I don't wanna hear you cry." Despite the harsh comment, the concern in Izumi's tone was still audible.

"What’s in the bag?" You asked, slightly salty about his previous remark. Grabbing the bag and ripping it open, inside was full of snacks, canned drinks and a note. "…" Your lips suddenly curled into a teasing smile.

"Don’t you dare say anything. It was just a coincidence that I was by a store while I was walking over to your house." He grumbled, plopping himself down on your bed and tightly hugged your pillow. "…Feel free to talk. I'll be listening."