#colorado bitch (affectionate)

[depressedtransguy]

this is so accurate i cant

I’m sobbing it is 😭😭😭

[flowerslut]

Rosalie x Alice Prompt: spring

A/N: I… am so sorry for this prompt. I know you probably wanted fluff but I’m a dumb bitch with a bad brain who defaults to angst when I’m left to my own devices and I SWEAR I didn’t mean for this to be as dark or depressing as it is but! Here we are! Again I’m so sorry I can write you something else if you want but here’s a sad Rosalie x Alice that doubles as a character study kind of? God I’m sorry I hope you like it please don’t be afraid to send more prompts in the future!

Daylilies

Alice knows things most people don’t.

That’s typically because Alice sees things no one else can. With her sight, comes knowledge. With her sight, she navigates the world with an expert eye. With her sight, she sees things.

It’s difficult to keep a secret with a mind-reader in the house. It’s impossible to keep one from Alice.

She knows that if you only stop to enjoy the view twice you can make it from Spokane to Clearwater in only five and a half hours. And if it takes you longer it means something’s keeping you from home.

She knows how close they are to losing Edward every day. His mind changes with every ring of the chimes that adjourn Esme’s garden. His loneliness is like a cage, and she does not wonder, she knows that unless they end up in Washington within the next decade, he’ll disappear.

She knows that despite their fragility, the human body can withstand incredible conditions. She knows that it takes about five minutes after the heart stops before the brain follows suit, and she knows that once she takes three or four deep gulps, humans usually stop fighting.

She knows that despite his supposedly clean record, Carlisle has caused more death than any of them, except maybe Jasper. (It’s a close call.) She sees the death of his patients before he does, and she knows how often he is at fault, even when he is unaware. He saves more than his human colleagues, but Alice sees that some still slip by the blind spots in his perfect senses.

She knows that humans are more likely to die in a car accident than a natural disaster and can’t help but marvel when they scatter like animals at the sight of mother nature’s wrath. She can’t quite predict the weather more than two months out, but if she thinks about it long enough, she can usually figure it out.

She knows that sometimes Jasper plans his slip ups. Tedium wears away at a patchwork of willpower and distracted daydreams morph into decisions. They aren’t made on purpose; not always. But Alice usually sees it before it happens. Usually, she lets it.

She knows that people can usually justify anything to themselves. She knows that cognitive dissonance isn’t a genetic trait—and none of them are really related to begin with—but it seems to run in their misfit family.

She knows that Emmett, more than anything, wants to see more of the world. Sometimes she sees him travelling. He’s usually alone. His eyes are always red.

She knows that a wildfire can spread as fast as a human can run and she knows that usually they fall victim to the fumes before they can get very far. A biological mercy, Alice thinks of it, as they usually are rendered unconscious before the flames eat away at their delicate flesh.

She knows that the South Canyon fires that ravaged Colorado two years ago weren’t caused by lightning. Esme lights the place full of candles every night, and sometimes Alice worries.

She knows that daylilies are the easiest flower to grow, nearly relentless despite their environment. She knows Rosalie doesn’t hate them like she claims, but despises the memories they haunt her with. They’re perennials, meaning they grow back every year, but Rosalie digs them up and replants them along with everything else either way.

Alice knows its a way to control something. That nurturing and cultivating the life of these plants is a balm for the misery she feels at her own mortality being beyond her control.

Rosalie always disposes of the weeds, messily, in the trash can of Carlisle’s office. He never once says anything about it. He considers telling her to stop once, after a long, miserable shift, before deciding against it.

It nearly saves his damn life. But Alice keeps that to herself.

Alice plants roses in the garden one year.

They’re the only plant Rosalie doesn’t destroy for the five years they live there.

She knows that, like most insects, butterflies have no heart. Just an open circulatory system of blood and guts. And she knows just how much weight the butterfly effect has on the world around them, how their entire existence has been left up to chance. How their reality is a concept nearly out of their control.

But Alice was gifted a way to cheat reality. A way to control what others will never see.

So she collects things. Visions. Knowledge. Secrets. Until she’s sure that she knows these people—this checkered family she found herself—better than they know themselves. But their secrets are for her to keep, not to share.

And Alice has her secrets as well.

She keeps to herself how, in her opinion, Jasper’s red eyes look better on him. She never talks about how often she sees glimpses of Edward, kneeling before a trio of thrones, begging for death. She is sure to look away when Esme stares too long at the fireplace and every year she gifts Emmett plane tickets for him and Rosalie. She let’s Carlisle think he’s doing his best and is sympathetic when his methods are inadequate.

Alice leaves daylilies on Carlisle’s desk when he loses patients sometimes. She doesn’t need to wonder if he knows how she only does it when his failed patients are young, blonde women. She knows he recognizes the pattern. He never says anything.

She keeps to herself the way she knows how Rosalie’s anger is not a one-way path. Alice sees the complexities that lie in the blonde woman’s rage and knows that there is so much she wishes she could do.

Alice sees herself kissed and killed in equal amounts in Rosalie’s future. Alice knows the way the woman’s lips taste and feels the smoothness of the expanse of her bare back, despite only seeing it in her mind. Glimpses of possibilities she knows will never come to fruition.

She also knows the way Rosalie’s hands feel around her neck, and the pain of torn limbs and fresh bites across her own small body. Venom swapped by rage, not by lust.

Alice sees thousands of possibilities between Rosalie and herself, always cut cold by the rage of shame and misery of reality.

Alice ignores the gazes that linger, the daydreams that edge a bit close to decisions, and the casual, affectionate, yet rare, embraces she’s gifted with—and Rosalie’s hugs are always a precious gift.

Winter is the hardest of months when it comes around. The garden dies, Rosalie’s distraction ends, and the visions where Alice is kissed are traded for the ones where she’s hurt. It’s a fine line that she travels as she witnesses the future flicker between the two. Passion is the line and it’s usually shame or want that tips it one way or the other.

There is one moment in ‘92 when Rosalie almost acts. It is summer and they travel north for a hunt and there is snow and Rosalie is actually laughing and genuinely happy and they throw snow and chase one another and relish in the joy of their own momentary childishness and suddenly Alice sees it.

A kiss. Stripped clothing. Fast actions. Faster regret. Cold shoulders. They return. Rose disappears two days later.

Alice turns and runs the moment that vision comes to her, leaving Rosalie in the snow, her laughter dying the moment she sees Alice’s abandonment, realizing what she must’ve seen, knowing the rejection instantly.

But even though Alice knows more than most, Alice still knows fear. And when she sees the family she searched decades for—the one she stitched together with promises of happiness and the guarantee of eventual ease—falling apart at the seams, she panics.

A world of possibilities lay in her mind and at her feet, but Alice’s secret is that she is a coward, and Alice cherishes the comfort of the routine her fake family has fallen into, so Alice ignores the hollow ache of her heart that doesn’t even beat at the distance that solidly roots itself in her mind that she fears will last for years.

Rosalie comes home three days later with a story that Edward will see right through and Alice will never refute.

So Alice keeps herself busy. Content. She draws and designs and shops and celebrates. Her joy is organic and her optimism is real. And it’s perhaps the fact that there is nearly nothing she can not figure out that she’s allowed the capacity to feel the way she does.

But Rosalie is there, and often Alice lets her mind wander, and lets the visions flow, and hates herself for entertaining the idea of a future that can never be.

Because Alice can have Rosalie. It would be easy. But if Alice has Rosalie, she loses everything else.

And Alice is a coward.

When spring arrives, Rosalie plants her garden, visions continue to dance through her mind, and Alice simply exists.

Ten years later, Rosalie lets Alice play with her hair again. She weaves daylilies through the braids and their futures intertwine once more.

[southparkhighrpg]

Michael - Accepted

Congratulations, Xo! Welcome to South Park High! Remember to send us your account within 48 hours of acceptance! If you ever need time extension to make the account, message the mods.

1. Mun information Preferred Name: Xochitl Age: 21 Pronouns: They/Them Timezone: CST Activity Level(Scale 1-10): 8 Discord:  Password: Eric Cartman is a fatass

2. Muse Information Muse’s name: Michael Age: 17 Birthday: 13 November Height: 6’ 7" Sexuality: Constantly questioning Gender/Pronouns: Cis Male; He/Him 3. Personality (two paragraph) Michael is just as much of an asshole as he was in his childhood. He never has cared much for being popular with his peers just as he’s never cared much for anything. His apathetic and stoic attitude has made it difficult for him to form any close relationships outside the goths, or any sort of relationship for that matter. He has a disdain for anyone he considers to be followers of the “conformist agenda”, whatever the hell that means. Essentially, the school’s elite and most liked are at the very top of his shit list and while it is possible to get Michael to change his opinions, it’s extremely difficult. He’s immensely stubborn so much to the point that it has no doubt gotten on even his closest friends’ nerves.  On the opposite end, however, Michael does have his approachable days. To those he considers friends, he isn’t as stern and even tends to dote on them, much like a mother. He’s thoughtful, honest but thoughtful. He doesn’t particularly like being an asshole to those he truly cares about. With the goths, he’s overprotective and affectionate in his own way. He would never go out of his way to purposefully hurt them. He’s deny this if it was brought up, however. His pride still reigns over everything else. 4. Appearance (two paragraph) Michael stand’s at 6’ 7", a very tall boy but not too unusual considering his family is one of the more “vertically blessed” in town. While he was known for his cachexic physique as a child, the goth has grown into himself. He isn’t the most jacked dude in town but he has toned up, more than would be expected give how slender he is. Even disregarding his height, Michael is a very lengthy person. His fingers are elongated and skeletal, and his legs are much longer than his torso, giving off the appearance that the boy is 80% leg. [A bit of a reach but you get the drift.] He’s very easy to pick out in a crowd. His complexion is pale and slightly yellow, like very aged parchment. His eyes are dark, piercing, and judgmental. He has a very attractive face: slender, high cheekbones, blemish-free, and mature. Model-esque, in it’s own way. He wears long dark coats—some simple, some extravagant—and never leaves the house without the comfort of makeup and jewelry. All of the rings, earrings, and necklaces he wears are custom made, handmade by himself of course. No matter where he goes, even if it’s just to grocery shop, Michael is dressed to the nines. His most casual pieces of clothing, that aren’t specifically pajamas, are dress shirts and slacks. His nails are always neat and manicured. His eyebrows always groomed and highlighted with makeup. His hair is never less than perfect. Again, he is a very prideful man and it reigns above everything else.

7. Name at least 5 headcanons

✞ If there’s one thing Michael will put a ton of effort in, it’s his appearance. He wakes up earlier than normal to make sure he is presentable even when staying in. He has a collection of high-end makeup and hair products that he uses on the daily. He also takes great care of skin and uses a variety of moisturizers, cleansers, exfoliators, etc. His daily routine usually takes around 2 hours to complete. He even goes to a fancier salon to get his hair cut and dyed professionally.He buys a lot of his clothing online and will often have it tailored because of his height. ✞ His home life and relationship with his family isn’t the best. His mother and father are constantly fighting and separate usually every other month. His parents usually take their frustrations out on him since he is the one who intervenes in a majority of their fight. They’ve gotten into a habit of kicking him out every so often. He is currently homeless due to this and is staying at the local motel. He also has two older siblings [who can be seen in the background photos in Michael’s home in Dawn of the Posers]: a sister and a brother. The three of them have a tight bond because of how awful their relationship with their parents is. Michael is very protective of his older siblings, and vice versa. ✞ He’s very much a dick and won’t be very nice to a majority of the characters. He is a bit nicer to the Goth Kids but he’ll still pick on them. He sees the other goths as family and will be overly-protective of them to point where he’d be willing to batter someone for hurting them.

✞ Speaking of which, Michael is a brute. He’s very violent when it comes to his fighting style. He won’t go picking fights unprovoked though, so stay on his good side and you’ll be fine. He still suffers from anger issues but he’s managed to push down his rage save for a couple of touchy subjects. ✞ A lot of his interests revolve around horror, the macabre, and things that are generally considered taboo. This, of course, includes horror movies, urban legends, the occult, the supernatural, mythology, demonology, cults and even serial killers [though he does not romanticize or idolize murder]. He’s also big on conspiracy theories. He loves hearing about them even if they’re the most outrageous thing ever. ✞ A secret interest of his is that he’s super into Angels. He knows a lot about them for someone who is not religious in the slightest and dabbles in doing angel readings and contacting them. He finds both demons and angels absolutely fascinating. ✞ He’s also a pyro and is almost always setting random crap on fire. He has a huge collection of Zippo lighters that he uses for this task. He hasn’t started any major fires since the Hot Topic, though. ✞ He still writes poetry. He’s also taken a liking to photography and metal-working. He’ll often take photos of his friends of when he’s just walking around with his Polaroid camera. He learned how to work metal on his own and usually just makes jewelry and charms.

✞ Michael works two jobs to support himself and his bearded dragons. After having been regularly kicked out by his parents in high school, Michael decided to find his own place the moment he could afford. However, the bills soon began to overwhelms him and he had to drop out of college his first semester to take on another job to keep him and his scaly children alive. He currents manages a record store during the day and bartends during the night.

8. Write two decent sized paragraphs that shows how you would portray your muse

May 26th. The end of the school year is merely days away. The senior class of South Park High School are all ready to graduate and move on with their lives. Universities, technical schools, and careers have all been planned and the students are ready to set them into motion. And while his classmates are chattering about move-in dates and fall schedules, Michael still hadn’t locked in on an after-graduation plan. He didn’t have much of a choice. It was either work or school and neither of those appealed to him. There was always travel but one needs money for the expenses and ,in turn, a job or two. It was depressing to think about how he would be the one to be trapped in the frozen wasteland that is South Park, Colorado. While Michael had his heart set on one school in particular, he had never heard back from them. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have only applied to one school, kept his options open. Maybe then he’d relate to his classmates’ conversations, even if he only managed to get into Denver U. He wouldn’t still be an outcast. But traditional schooling was never for him, higher education or not. Michael knew what he wanted from a young age. “Pratt Institute or bust” was his mentality but that dream was closer than ever to being shattered. It has now been months since acceptance letters were sent out and Michael had gotten nothing, not even a notice of rejection. He was just about to give up on the idea until he noticed something on the kitchen island: an envelope addressed to him. His breath hitched in his throat the moment the signature yellow insignia that read “PRATT”. Skeletal fingers trembling, the goth opened up the envelope with a such a painfully slow pace that even the world’s laziest sloth would become impatient. Why was he so nervous? There was only two possible outcomes and he had already mentally prepared for rejections months ago. And even if he did manage to be accepted, there was no way he’d be able to afford the travel expenses, much less tuition. Still, he held a sliver of hope in his dark heart that he’d spend his future days far from the mundane world of the small mountain town, living life to the fullest in New York City, as cliche as that thought was. Michael Nguyen-Darbi, Upon review of your application… He could feel his heartbeat resonate in his head. The goth’s vision was becoming hazy. His nerves had completely taken over, making him sickly. Stop stalling and finish reading the letter, Michael. Don’t be a bitch. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, readying himself to finish. As soon as his eyes shot open he read the rest of the line. …we are glad to offer you acceptance to Pratt Institute. In that moment, all time seemed to stop. It was surreal, reading those words. He did it….he actually fucking did it. Michael’s breaths were ragged, labored and audible. The euphoria he felt was overwhelming, so much so that he stumbled back from loss of balance, grabbing onto the kitchen counter for support. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, growing from the a tiny upwards curl to a bright, toothy grin. Michael took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before letting out a loud “Yes!!” God was he glad no one was home. But he wished someone was. He needed to share this news. Fumbling around in his pocket, Michael searched for his phone. He swiped through his contacts before calling the one under the name ‘Assmunch ☠’. Rising. Riiiiing. “Pete? Guess what I just fucking got..” 9. Any additional information  you would like to add That’s it!

[depressedtransguy]

any ship and 31 for holding hands from the prompt list

Stephen was making his way over to the bar during the Avengers yearly Gala that he was roped into, wondering what his husband was up to, when he was pulled into a nearby closet by his fist with no warning whatsoever. Yet he was unsurprised to be staring said husband in the face once inside. "So this is where you went."

"I already stole a shit ton of Stark's alcohol and I hate everyone else here, what did you think?" Loki murmured back, taking his ring hand into his and gently running his thumb over his knuckles. "Can we go home yet?"

"I'm afraid not, darling. Tony's guilt tripping me with my elementary school pictures, and I owe him at least an hour of staying here or he'll release them to the public," Stephen explained.

Loki dramatically gasped. "He got Brace Face?" He giggled when he received a slight glare in return for his words. "Aww honey I'm sorry, but let's go anyway, the public will that little experimentally haircut closeted queer."

"They will tear him to shreds, Dewdrop, his face was never meant to see the light of day after the 90's began," Stephen corrected. "But, you are free to go at any time."

"Bold of you to assume I'd rather go to the Sanctum alone then whine to you for an hour," Loki further confirmed. "What's the fun of leaving if you're not at home to hold me until I shut up?"

The doctor snorted softly and cupped his husband's cheek, pulling him toward him until their lips met for a warm kiss. "I do like that too. You are adorable, darling. But what would you like to do now?"

With a small pout, Loki let go of his hand in order to hook his fingers into his partner's belt loops and pull their hips together for an answer. "We are in a closet."

"Sounds like high school."

Loki laughed again and kissed him once more, smiling as his back met the closet's wall and his husband pressed against him from shoulder to hip. "What did Stark say about being still in the building as you have sex with your husband?"

"Nothing, so it's a bit of a gray area."

"Because of that along with those eyes, doctor, gray might be my new favorite color."

"How flattering."

In the end, the pictures weren't released, as it was pointed out that the closet was still technically in the room, meaning that Loki was the only one that made fun of Stephen for them as much as he could. But it was easier for the sorcerer supreme to just grab his husband and kiss him in response than it was to ignore the entirety of the internet.

thank you for the prompt honey !!!!

it doesn't fit that well but like who cares it's not great anyway lmao

the ask game if anyone else wanna ask

[emospritelet]

From the holiday prompt list, I can totally see Extra!GoldRush with 13 and 15, with Belle having a laugh somewhere ahah And maybe Woven Lace being a bit more affectionate than usual with each other with 37. Thank you very much and have a nice holiday season!!

13. Ho, ho, ho, bitch

15. If you throw a snowball at my face so help me

Gold was beginning to wish they had stayed in California.  Personally he would never have chosen Colorado as a holiday destination; it was bloody cold, the snow lay thick on the ground, and despite how pretty it looked the freezing air was making his leg act up.  But renting a log cabin over Christmas had been Belle’s idea, and of course he could never refuse her anything.  They had all curled up in front of the fire the previous night, warm as toast in the blankets and mugs of hot chocolate in their hands.

The sight of Belle bundled up in wool and faux fur, cheeks flushed and eyes bright with excitement, made him grin.  She was balling snow in her gloved hands, giving Rush a sneaky look as he glanced around the winter landscape.  A snowball to the back of the head made him grunt in surprise, and Belle giggled as he looked around with a frown, his eyes meeting Gold’s.

“You do realise this means instant retaliation?” he said.

“That wasn’t me,” said Gold patiently.  “The guilty party has snow all over her gloves.”

“Oh, dob me in, why don’t you?” said Belle indignantly, balling up more snow.  Gold raised an eyebrow.

“If you throw a snowball at my face so help me...”

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” she asked cheekily, and he took a step forward.

“Only if you misbehave.”

“Look like I’m getting a spanking, then.”  She threw the snowball, but Gold dodged it easily, grinning at her.

“I’m not sure failing to hit me counts,” he said.  “But if you insist, we can--”

A ball of snow to the face cut him off with a flurry of white, and Rush smirked.

“Ho, ho, ho, bitch.”

Send me a prompt from this list and a pairing and I’ll write you a ficlet

Festive fic prompts

[ebonysimagines]

bpd & npd. i respect people who respect me tbh but my respect & love is hard to earn. my anger issues are hard for me to control, so i need to let off steam by spendin time boxin, otherwise i’ll snap at people. i won’t hesitate to punch a racist ass bitch either. they gettin their nose broke if they talk shit too. i’m affectionate af w my friends tho. i’m attracted to people who respect me a lot & i love gettin attention & even tho i can handle myself, i LOV bein protected. thank u baby

Colorado needs more people like you, babe. I gotchu with the matchup. I do hope you enjoy it very much. Just reading this made me think of Lemon - N.E.R.D and Rihanna. Trust me, it’s your song.

                        -Admin Ebony

BNHA: No doubt, you don’t want no scrubs and your prayers have been answered. Just as headstrong and cocky, I present BAKUGOU KATSUKI. I feel like I don’t even need to explain this but I will anyway. 1.) Fighting - you’re both set into a violet mindset and use such physical interactions as a outlet for all your internalized rage. 2.) You’re both hot, like smoking. Not to mention a little on the narcissistic side (not a bad thing, totally not). 3.) I think the high sex drive really works out for the both of you and this might even out your mood swings a bit too. 4.) I think he would adore your accent, like it makes him weak in the knees. 5.) All around you have a compelling personality that calls to him unfiltered and fiery persona. All in all, you two are a power couple in all sense of the word.

[depressedtransguy]

10 hugs and strangefrost

Stephen had been gone for about a week. All dressed up on some important mission with Wong to stop some sort of interdimensional beast, or... whatever, he was doing something important. Loki hadn't been able to listen too well as his partner's fingers were delicately tracing his skull and carefully braiding his black locks while he explained that he'd be leaving for a bit seven days prior. He supposed that he had no one but himself to blame, but the most important thing wasn't what he was doing, it was that he got home safe and quickly. Of which he hadn't done so far.

The god wasn't too worried, at least not yet, Stephen was frequently out of contact with him while he was working, so currently his only grievance was that he had to sleep alone. Sometimes he told himself that he should be used to it after a life of sleeping alone. Such was true, but after being held in the sorcerer supreme's unfairly hot arms, and especially after no other partner he had had before cared for him as much as he had, he felt that he deserved to never sleep alone again, and to complain heavily when he was forced to do so. Sleeping alone was just... boring. There was no cuddling, no kisses, and in a sort of opposition, a shit ton of nightmares. Which was always fun.

Loki had frequently been plagued with night terrors for years that never seemed to relent, but when he had the first privilege of curling up into Stephen's arms, all of them seemed to fade away and let him get a good night's rest for once. And thankfully, even when Stephen had to be away from him, they usually still stayed at bay while he slept comfortably in his partner's bed. But the fear was still underlying at all times.

His fears actually didn't take too long to come true.

It was the seventh night. As usual, he curled up into a ball under Stephen's covers with a goat squishmallow he was gifted for his birthday that he still didn't know how his boyfriend figured out and scrolled through the dumpster fire of an app that was tumblr until he finally passed out into dreamland.

Or nightmareland. But that didn't have as good of a ring to it.

Less than three hours later he found himself jerking awake in complete darkness with his heart racing 100 miles an hour and an invisible but unmovable weight on his chest, forcing him to rake his nails down his throat in a weak attempt to gain his ability to breath back and arch his back as if that would force the air out of him. But then a hand suddenly slipped onto his spine and another pulled him into a hug, the meeting of chest to chest finally making his breathing kick in, and the feeling of another person against him grounding him back from the past he had been reliving. He knew it was Stephen without having to see his face. "Thank you," Loki sobbed softly into his shoulder, face tucked into his neck and hands making fists in the back of his robes. "I fucking love you so much."

"I love you too," Stephen whispered back as he peppered small kisses along his partner's exposed skin. "But try to focus on your breathing right now honey, you're safe now."

Stephen kept assuring Loki that he was present with him and safe as he lightly rubbed his back, breath warming his neck and speech practically making him melt more into his comforting grip with every word. "I'd never let them hurt you again."

"That's because most of them are dead, Stephen," Loki murmured back, forcing him to pause in his crying to be sarcastic.

"Exactly. I'm doing a great job."

It was quite obvious that Stephen had purposefully said both statements to make his weeping slow, and Loki couldn't say that it didn't warm his heart a bit. His partner knew him well. "Well then I thank you for your service, Mr. Doctor."

Both were grinning when they pulled back, one's cheeks shining with water and the other's crusted with a little blood. "I'll only allow that 'cause you're cute."

"A thousand thank yous, darling."

The rest of the night was filled with stolen kisses and discussion about what was plaguing him, dabbled with the occasional answer to what he had done on his mission, and ending with them passing out just as sunlight began to peek through the window and light up the room. Spooning was the position of choice, Stephen's face curled into Loki's neck with their legs comfortably intertwined, tears dried and blood cleaned in order to treat them both to an actually restful sleep.

thank you sm for submitting I hope you enjoyed <33333

[donotfollowme5-blog]

New Semester

Time for another fucking semester, I can’t stress enough how sick I am of college. But this semester does seem like its going to be different. My DF 2 prof is sooo nice and seems like he actually wants to teach us shit. But wait this shit is supposed to be about my feelings right? In terms of a love life Ive been messing around with my coworker who had just gotten out of a 5 year relationship. So I don’t feel like a rebound at all. Nah not really, she told me that she has had a crush on me basically since we started working together, but kept me at a distance to not develop feelings. Which seems like the most likely scenario honestly. So far its not the same like it was with King, but I think thats only because me and Tasia (coworker) are not officially dating. I want to give her time to actually be her own and single, but I don’t know if shes doing that with me around. We act very couple-y and I’ve already met her family. It’s not that I don’t like her, shes great. She cares about me, is very affectionate, reassuring, super nice, hardworking, dedicated. She really is awesome. But its still doesn’t feel the same. And i don’t know if that’s me, because mentally I know that we’re both technically still single, and even though it hasn’t been explicitly said, we’re basically exclusive. Or is it that neither of us put any effort into trying to find someone else. When I went to NM i was “open” to hooking up with someone since Tasia and them would never meet. But if the opportunity came up I don’t know how I would react, because I definitely did not put any effort into getting with someone. I do think that I will end up dating Tasia but I hope that I time it right, when shes not insecure, because I don’t know if I can date another girl who is super insecure. I know I sound like an asshole, but King was definitely a lot, and not the only insecure person I’ve dated. I’m not saying I’m secure in myself because I know I’m not. But I do feel like I deal with my feelings on my own and try not to put them on anyone else. I say that but what the fuck do i know. I am kinda excited about this semester. Im actually trying to be productive, I bought a calendar put my due dates and shit up on it. I just need to do good. Unfortunately I think I’m going to be here a semester longer than I had hoped for. So now I pray that I can graduate in fall 21. I had reread one of my posts a few weeks ago and i talked about how its going to be after I graduate and while I was real moody then and a sad little bitch, I felt like I made a pretty good point when I said that I’m not going to have any friends when I move. Theyre not coming with me, and i know no one in colorado. Which begs the question, why have a bunch of friends in Texas if I’m never going to see them? Sunflower said that she’d visit which I don’t believe. I don’t even know if we’re going to hang out after she moves out. Which i still hate the way she decided. I had sex with King right before the semester started (me and Tasia had not started talking). But I got “caught”, Sunflower confronted me and asked who I had been smoking with. I’m not one to lie so i told her the truth, she immediately got all weird and I when I told her I just went over there for sex she got pissed. Now I was confused and had to consult some females. i.e my sister, friend and Tasia. And all 3 of them said that her getting mad was more of a “girl code” thing. The way they explained it, because Sunflower hates King, I’m not allowed to associate with her in any way shape or form. Later that day, she said that she doesn’t want to live together anymore. It pissed me off for a while but honestly it doesn’t matter now. Because like I said, having friends here doesn’t really mean shit. After college im basically never going to see them again. So I think I want to get an apartment by myself, and the only people to come over is gonna be (probably) Tasia and my cat, Perri. Plus living by myself will give me no choice but to focus on school, so I think it’s better for my GPA in the long run. But I do want to start thinking more positively, that shrooms trip last night kinda helped put that into perspective as well. To a good semester

[chronicbadassblog-blog]

Change.

[Image: Mountains in the distance with green trees and road in foreground. Blue, sunny sky above with white clouds.]

I just left Massachusetts after living there for 16 years and moved to Boulder, Colorado. I’ve never lived anywhere that long, and that includes my childhood. I’ve also never lived in a landlocked state. The majesty of oceans, rivers, lakes and straits were replaced by the awe-inspiring views of the Rocky Mountains. I plan to try it out for awhile and see if it sticks.

Deciding to change locations in this country, where healthcare has historically not been a guaranteed right for all, has not been made flippantly. I live with Crohn’s Disease, and Massachusetts has had the most organized and accessible insurance for over a decade, for a low-income person with a pre-existing condition like myself. Although the situation has improved for folks like myself (and I know it has gotten worse for others, and things need reform), even if we had the greatest accessible healthcare in the world, I’m still moving to a new place, where I don’t know the hospitals, the doctors, the nurses, and the lay of the land as well.

I’m also a badass. A Chronic Badass. I coined the term with a climbing partner of mine. We would get together, flex our lats and our grip strength, and meet each other where we were at. We are both strong and creative as hell, and climbing in particular is an activity where you figure out each puzzle and decide how it fits your particular body. Our particular bodies both have chronic issues, but we moved through them. Some days we cancelled, other days we rocked the wall. Some days we would affectionately call our session “Bitch ‘n’ Climb.” We vented about pain or heartache or whatever was going on, then we would ascend.

Ever since this phrase, “Chronic Badass” showed up in our psyches, something about it felt right. A friend who read the phrase and also has been dealing with chronic issues, and who has always been a mover/dancer/bodyworker, said there was something about it that helped her reframe her relationship with her pain. When I heard that, I felt even more inspired to create something around it. Like a mantra, or a self-given name or nickname, it’s a short phrase but a big idea. You can do really amazing stuff in this life, even if you have been dealt the short end of the stick in certain areas.

Chronic Badass acknowledges the duality or the multiplicity, rather, of our lives. We are not one thing, we are all of the things. Your chronic may not look like my chronic, your badassery may not look like mine. But we can be both. We can show up, with our varied narratives of discomfort and fear, and even if it’s just finding a way to cope and make it to the next moment, we can ascend.

*********

Thank you for joining us and reading the inaugural post of the Chronic Badass Blog. Stay tuned for more stories from me and from guest Chronic Badasses. 

[Image: Artificial rock climbing wall outside. Rock holds are various colors and perspective is from the base of the wall. Bare branches of a tree with early evening sky behind it at bottom of photo.]

[depressedtransguy]

holding onto the other’s shoulders for support froststrange

(also you aren’t pathetic <3)

(yes I am <3)

Loki swore as Stephen pressed down on his injured ankle with a cool compress, getting gently shushed in return with a small smirk. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to be quiet, darling, the cops are swarming the warehouse just next door and I’d rather not have to bail ourselves out again,” he murmured with a kiss to the patch over his torn up knee. 

“Oh please honey, you make half a million a year picking at people's brains, I think you can afford to pay for our criminal activities,” Loki responded with a small tap to the tip of his nose. 

“Perhaps true, but I fear if we keep getting caught for said activities, I will lose the only legal thing supporting us.” Stephen leaned forward and pressed his lips to Loki’s, hands stabilized on his thighs as the darker haired of them then wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “Although I’m sure you’d be glad for me to lose it.” 

“Stephen!?” Loki gasped in offense. “You love your job and I love the money that comes from it, why would I ever wish for you to stop being called away at every and all times of the night and day to work instead of cuddling me as you should?” 

With a chuckle the doctor squeezed his thigh and let his other hand trail up the back of his shirt. “I am very sorry that I can’t hold you at all times Dewdrop, it is truly my greatest sin.”

“Don’t forget kissing.” Loki curled his gauze wrapped fingers in Stephen’s blood spattered button up and pulled him back over to once more crush their lips together. “That’s a pretty important part.” 

“Once again. My apologies.” After another aggressive and tongue filled kiss, Stephen finally stood up and helped his boyfriend up to his feet, his right one stabilized on the ground while his left was bent behind him. “How do you feel?” 

Loki huffed as he slung his elbow around his neck and secured a hand on his shoulder. “Like shit, my whole body hurts, but I have a feeling that a hot bath back at your apartment will make everything feel alright,” he answered with a soft smile. 

“You have a broken ankle. And as your doctor I have to say hot water doesn’t fuse bones back together.” 

“Well, we won’t know till you try.” 

Stephen could continue to fight him on it, but instead he just kissed his boyfriend on his temple and picked up his shoulder bag filled with both blood-dotted money and medical supplies before beginning to help him toward the back exit of the abandoned barn, whispering Britney Spears lyrics. “Mama I’m in love with a criminal...”

“Honey we’re already gay, you don’t need to sing Britney Spears, I promise you,” Loki teased with a soft snort. “Although that song does fit us pretty well. I managed to shift a goody-two-shoes doctor into a part time criminal just because you adore me so.” 

“I do adore you, that is true,” the doctor murmured as he pushed open the wooden door and smiled at his partner. 

“But you’d never tell your mother about us or she’d have a stroke.” 

“Oh, there is absolutely no question in that. She’d die on the spot.” 

Thankfully the couple got home without any trouble and did manage to slip into a bath together, letting it soothe their tired limbs that had spent the previous hours over exerting. Unfortunately it still didn’t fix his broken ankle. And neither did the following sex that Loki insisted on trying next with big puppy dog eyes. But it was certainly worth a try. 

[depressedtransguy]

1, 50, 75

Friends by Marshmello and Anne-Marie

3-Way (The Golden Rule) by thelonelyisland, Justin Timberlake, Lady Ga

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) from Mamma Mia!

yes it’s very random I listen to the weirdest shit

thanks for the ask!!!

[depressedtransguy]

8, 29, 54 from the random ask game

8. Do you nap regularly?

No because naps fuck up my sleep schedule and that’s already as fucked up as it is

29. Are you vegetarian or vegan?

Hell no I love burgers way too much

54. If you could teleport anywhere rn where would it be?

Yes I’m stealing this from you but to my like three mutuals cause I love yall <3

ask me shit

[depressedtransguy]

grey yellow white <3

HONEYYYYYYY <333333333

ask me shit