#god I fucking hate myself for being so fucking naive

[newvision]

Feeling like cracking open my skull, throwing up, never leaving bed etc

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 9 - Next

You banged on the door of the room where that man was locked up, waking him up abruptly.

"Let's talk"

Jimmy: "I thought visiting hours were over."

He complained, turning around to turn his back to the door.

"Don't try to be funny with me, Jimmy. What the hell did we do to deserve so much hate from you?"

Jimmy: "Don't play innocent, you know very well what you did!"

"Honestly, I have no idea! That's why I'm asking you!"

Jimmy: "Of course, because I was always the shadow of your dear husband. You never turned to look at me again after you got with him, you never smiled at me like you did with him, you didn't even speak to me. It was as if I were invisible to you!"

"Oh, of course I was looking at you!"

Jimmy: "Then why didn't you ever tell me anything?!"

He shouted that, getting up from his bed to head towards the glass that separated them, watching your face to see you when you replied.

"BECAUSE I'VE ALWAYS HATED YOU!"

You screamed with all your lungs, to the point of making your throat hurt.

"You always brought trouble to Curly! He was always so naive, a sucker for approval, of being the good guy in the story, of not letting anyone down! That's why he never abandoned you! I knew better that's why i stopped talking with you! Because you were and are a piece of shit!" 

Jimmy: "Oh, but you talk as if I were the only fucked up one in the story."

"Yes! I admit it! I was also a mess when I met Curly, but I did something, I was able to see beyond that mess I was, he showed me that I could improve, he gave me opportunities that I knew how to take advantage of and become a better person! In someone who could make his mother proud instead of making her cry because she didn't know if he was coming home or not!"

There was a silence when you finished saying that, until you saw him smirk, that reaction you didn't like at all.

Jimmy: "You're right, Curly loves to please, you should know that very well."

"Ugh, for the love of God, I don't know why I try to reason with you, it's impossible."

Jimmy: "But you were the only one who refused to give in to make me happy."

You opened your eyes wide upon hearing that, turning again to the man who still wore that smug smile.

Jimmy: "Just as beautiful and messed up as I am, I thought you would understand me, but then you became a good girl, yet I still hoped you would look at me..."

"Shut up-"

Jimmy: "Oh, and the damn way Curly talked about you, how incredible you are, so kind, hardworking, so beautiful."

"I tell you to shut up-"

Jimmy: "Those lovely moles in the center of your chest that look like a constellation"

"He wouldn't talk about those things with you!"

Jimmy: "I saw it myself"

You felt like you were going to puke at that moment, you didn't want to believe that he had really done something like that to you while you were unconscious, you didn't want your suspicions to be confirmed, you refused to believe it.

"Liar. Anya wouldn't leave me alone, she would lock the nursery door-" 

Jimmy: "Yes, yes, she did that, it was a pain in the ass. Every night when she went to sleep, she locked the nursery with that code that only Curly and she knew... But that place wasn't closed while someone was inside."

"She wouldn't let you get close to me!"

Jimmy: "They were so sweet, Anya staying by your side saying she had to make sure all your signs were okay, and when she left, she would ask Swansea if he could keep an eye on you. But he was so depressed that he didn't dare to stay with you for long, so... I took his place to make sure you were okay."

"In front of Curly..."

You murmured at having to imagine the scene your husband had to witness without being able to do anything about it other than watch.

Jimmy: "That was the funniest thing"

You hugged tightly, feeling a horrible tingling all over your body, as if you were dirty.

Jimmy: "Swansea had no idea about anything, Anya didn't want to talk about it with anyone else. Thanks to her silence, I was able to finally look at that body that you always hide from me, thanks to Swansea's stupidity and feeling sad for his little captain, feeling all guilty and shit."

Swansea: "What did he just say..." 

You turned to see Swansea at the end of the hallway, carrying Jimmy's rations, holding an axe firmly in the other hand; he had managed to hear everything.

"Swansea-"

Swansea: "Open the door, captain"

"Listen - it's not worth it, do you have any idea what they'll do to you if they find out you hurt someone from the crew? Please, I don't want them to lock you up." 

You said immediately, positioning yourself in front of him, trying to get him to see you, but his eyes were glued to the door where he could see Jimmy's face.

Swansea: "How are they going to know? Let's say it was an accident. Open the door!"

You wanted to keep reasoning with him, but you couldn't deny that you also wished he would face consequences for his actions.

You took the axe from his hands, making him look at you annoyed.

"I won't take the risk of you killing him."

Those were your last words before opening the door, Swansea didn't take much more than a few seconds to fully open the door, step inside, and throw himself at Jimmy.

You could hear the sound of the blows, the insults, and the screams.

You stood at the door wide open, axe in hand, watching as the blood spread across the floor with each blow Swansea dealt.

You watched Jimmy and tilted your head, waiting for him to defend himself.

You wouldn't hesitate to cut off his hands if he touched Swansea.

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Man, this pisses me off so bad. If you're a woman who relates more to males than other women, it's because you've decided to focus more on how you're different from other women rather than how you're like them. You will literally never have more in common with males, and males do not feel the same way about you. These cute little posts that you write about how you love males more than your fellow women? They do not write the same thing about you. They hate and mock you constantly. Anyone remember "Cis women need to shut up"

"As a cis woman, I agree"

"You need to shut up, specifically"

?

Yea, that's how they feel about you and your solidarity.

The difference between lesbians and trans women in female spaces is the fact that lesbians do not have high rates of violence. There is no group of women that outclass men in terms of violent tendencies. Trans women retain the rates of male violence that regular men do. I'm not saying you have to treat trans women like they're all violent beasts, but if you can't see why female people would be uncomfortable with male people in their spaces, you're either naive or genuinely unsympathetic towards the very real fear that women have of being subjected to male violence. You can't say trans women and lesbians are similar because, unlike males, there is no statistical evidence that lesbians are highly likely to take advantage of a woman. If it turned out that 98% of rapes were committed by lesbians, I would 1000% understand why straight women don't fucking want to be around me. Have some fucking empathy, holy fucking shit. Even if you are completely on board with trans women being in female spaces, at LEAST acknowledge that it makes sense for women to be concerned about who is allowed in their spaces. It's crazy how I could tell someone I have a fear of dogs because one bit me when I was a kid, and they'd put their sweet pooch up, but God forbid a woman be cautious around a demographic who commit 90% of all violent crime. Oh no. That woman is suddenly a terf bitch.

I have nothing in common with trans women. I don't care how much pain they have experienced. We are not the same. When I was twelve, I cried and I cried as I put my palms together to pray to a God I hoped would be able to take away my homosexuality. I didn't even grow up in a particularly homophobic family. Both of my parents were accepting of me, but I still sat in the dark of my room, tears streaming down my face, as I prayed to have my sexuality changed.

Two years later, one of my friends made a joke about me dressing to impress my crush. She said my crushes name---a feminine name. A girl sitting in earshot heard her, turned to me, and asked me with disgust if I was gay. I said no without even thinking about it. It absolutely did not help that we were in a locker room with other girls. I was aware of my sexuality by that point, but I was 14 and unable to hold my own against a girl looking at me like THAT. For a few weeks after that, that girl made comments about how she was "watching me".

I know pain, I know discomfort, I know what it's like to feel predatory. Seeing feminine women, especially if they're white, makes me feel like an alien. I look at them and think "how are we so different? I see none of myself in you."

Sometimes I'm right. Sometimes we're not similar at all. But guess what? That doesn't mean I'm similar to a straight male. Fucking hell, sometimes I'm not similar to other lesbians. That's completely normal. I think OP needs to read better work by cishet women. If you think that there is not a single piece of cishet female writing that can move you more than something written by a male, you're not looking in the right places at all. I don't understand why some LB women seem to think that the very act of someone being a straight woman makes them incapable of relatability. Of course it makes sense for you to be cautious. Lesbians deal with a lot of alienation and predatory feelings, but if the very ACT of a woman being cis and straight makes you feel like she has absolutely nothing in common with you...? The issue lies with you. YOU are the one othering THEM. Not the other way around. You're the one who has decided that a few cis straight women othering you means that they ALL will so you'd better beat them to the punch. You're the one who has decided that your relationship to womanhood is so astronomically different from straight women that nothing they say speaks to you. That's INSANE. Do you realize how much you have to alienate yourself from womanhood to feel more relatability with a male person than a female one? Idk how to tell you this, but it is highly probable that the most cis, most het woman you have ever met has had a period. It's highly likely she's been harassed by a man. It's highly likely she's been made to feel inferior by way of being born female. No, they can't relate to the experience of being a lesbian who is made to feel predatory for no reason, but to say that nothing a cis het woman says/experiences can move you at all? Nothing they say can make you feel like your experience with womanhood and hers are similar? Do you realize how you sound? "Trans women have been harassed by men and made to feel inferior, too!!" Okay! So you should be able to relate to cis women in the way you do trans women, right?

I told my discord server that I was nervous about my future roommates. I showed them photos and someone said "all this tells me is that they're feminine and white" and I literally think about that all of the time. I was projecting. I was so scared that these white, feminine, probably straight women were going to judge me for being a black lesbian that I didn't even realize that I was the one violently judging them based off of nothing but their skin color and their femininity. I knew nothing about them. I STILL know nothing about them. I've barely spoken to them. But already I had labeled them as unrelatable judgemental women because of how they looked. Hold on. Wasn't I the one afraid of them judging ME? How could I be so afraid of them judging me for being a black lesbian when I was the one judging them already? What sense does that make?

You guys are so busy writing off cis straight women as unrelatable bigots that you've failed to see that you're the one who is extremely prejudiced against them. And I absolutely fucking know someone is gonna read this and say "well, you can't say that all trans women have male violence patterns and dahdahdahdah" and it's like. But YOU can say that cis straight women are so unbelievably different from lesbian women that you'd rather say you're more similar to a straight up fucking male???

I'm not saying it's not a little jarring to see women who are so different from me. I'm not saying I haven't been burned before and there's no reason for me (or other lesbians) to be cautious. But I will literally ALWAYS have more in common with cishet women than I ever will a man pretending to be a woman.

One time I had a professor. She was on the older side (I'd say 40's) and white. Not the type of person I'd think I'd click well with. She was straight and married with children. One day we talked after class, and the only thing that ended our conversation was the fact she had an event she had to go to. We would've talked longer if not for that. She emailed me a little while later to tell me that she enjoyed our chat. After that, she actually hugged me on two occasions. You wouldn't think we'd have common ground. An older, straight, married white mother and a young black lesbian. Both of us are "cis" but I can tell you I relate to her much better than I ever could someone born male.

I once had a personal trainer who was a feminine woman. She had acrylic nails and everything. One time she said that she couldn't hug her male friends anymore because she had a boyfriend (he wasn't the one enforcing that rule. That was something she personally felt). Also not someone I thought I'd click well with. But we did. One time we had a really productive discussion that was actually derived from the conversation with my professor. I felt very close to her in that moment. Our conversation came to a close because she had another client, but I still think about that convo.

There have been so many fucking times where I thought "this woman is not like me. Look at her." But what I realized was that I was the judgmental one. I was the one deciding we were different, not her. I was the one writing her off. I was the one convinced we had nothing in common.

I am BEGGING you not to alienate your fellow women. There are no inherent traits that make you unable to relate to other women. No amount of whiteness or cisness or straightness can make a woman completely unreachable. I am NOT talking about political parties or views so don't fucking try me with that shit. Obviously that puts a wedge between people, but someone simply being born cis and het does not make them alien from you. For God's sake, look at the fucking MeToo movement. Women from all fucking backgrounds who share an experience that an unfortunate amount of women go through. Women from all different races, sexualities, etc. who came together to talk about how they've been subjected to sexual violence. Ellen degeneres was one of them. How does that fit into your "lesbians and cishet women cannot relate to each other" spiel?

OP's post has 130k notes and it makes me fucking sick. Holy crap y'all, we need more solidarity than this. Other women are not your enemy. I'm begging you to reconsider your approach to women who are different than you. You are missing out on people who can love and support you in a way that literally no male can. You are depriving yourself. Just because a few cishet women in the past alienated you, does not mean that you have to continue their legacy. Let it go. Everyone on earth can see you embracing your hatred of women, and you wonder why your fellow women never hug you? They fucking can't! Put your hatred down and make space for the love that comes with realizing that you absolutely are like other girls!

[jolalibrary]

i wasn’t sure if I wanted to say something or not. but, I saw the post that @moonlitbirdie did here with the addition from @tonysopranosrobe and I guess it inspired me to be a little braver with my honesty.

because at the end of the day, this is my blog? it’s my thing I’ve taken and nurtured, and watered and made my own.

so lemme start with I’m aware it is humanly impossible to be everyone’s cup of tea, and I do not expect to be. but before the last week or so, I’d naively thought that if I wasn’t, those people would bow out politely from my life/space.

but that blog showed me that isn’t the case, and that sucked.

there are far more adjectives and words I’d love to say to describe my feelings on that blog and that situation. to describe the hurt and the sadness I’ve felt, not just for the words said about me but about moots, friends and others I see in the community I love being in. but I think I would never stop talking and we all have lives.

so I’ll get to the point of what this is.

normally, I wouldn’t address things publicly, but this time I want to put my foot down, to say a few things.

I might seem more confident in recc’ing myself, but that isn’t because I was faking it before. instead, it’s because I have good people in my life, and good friends who I might not have had before taking the time to let me hold some space in my life. who have reminded me that it’s okay to toot my fucking horn sometimes, and it doesn’t make me a bad person even if it feels bad.

they remind me that it’s okay to celebrate with cake when I finish a series I’ve worked really, really hard on. and those same good people are also ones who politely and virtually slap me when I begin talking shit on myself, who have helped me begin to forge a better relationship with the warring voices in my head—the writer who wishes to write and the girl with no self esteem who wishes to crawl into a ball each time she posts.

next, I know for some, it may have seemed like I was okay. that the normal posting on here was it running off my back like water. but it wasn’t. it was hard to come into a space where it felt like people hated me, and where people would send in asks about other people I’m friends with or care for or know. because even if it’s only a few asks, it feels like more, because I don’t know who is screenshotting and agreeing with it. and once you begin tumbling down that thought-cliff there’s no stopping you.

again, I’m aware I’m not perfect. i make mistakes, I try to learn from them, and I do not expect to be everyone’s fave person. but anon hate is not a thing I’d wish even on the people I personally dislike, and I’ve had it on and off pre that blog appearing. I’ve deleted and deleted, blocked and reported, and then that blog came and then it was out there, and I could do nothing. I just had to stare and read it, had to hope that people knew who I was.

and look, I say none of this for sympathy, but more an acknowledgment that not everything that stands past the ground shaking is stable. that people don’t always know or feel able to ask or share that they’re hurting. and then it’s isolating, it’s dark and it’s fucking lonely.

which is what leads me to my final thing, which is thank you. thank you to every single person who has reached out to check if I’m okay, to offer the option of a vent or a thot, and the ones that have even just sent love hearts. and also thank you to those who have thought about sending something to me or instead disputed or reported that blog.

I know on the post above by birdee and commented on by han mentions about checking in with people, and I just want to echo that point so loud. if you’re unsure what to do it this happens again (maybe not even now - god I hope - or in this fandom, but in the future) from someone who was mentioned, it’s check in.

similar to han (you worded it perfectly and I’m going to butcher it) it validated how shitty I was feeling, it allowed me to feel okay taking space to be mad and to be sad, because someone else was agreeing it was wrong. those things seem easy on the surface until your North Star has gone, until your upside down and topsy turvy. and if you’re reading this and thinking “bit fucking dramatic jo” then I ask you to kindly unfollow me, no hard feelings, or anything.

because in my eyes, anyone would feel a little disconcerted when their hobby doesn’t feel safe or provide the same comfort it did. when your hobby is the thing you look forward to, and then you can’t enjoy it because there’s a thousand thoughts running around and it feels so anxiety provoking. and yeah, I know there will be people who will go “it’s just tumblr” but I’ve been here a while, this isn’t my first rodeo here, and I just never wish for anyone else to feel like this. ever. no one deserves the hobby they love to be tarnished by shadows that shout and spew things, that you can’t fight back against, because you don’t know who they are.

but kind voices eventually break through and smother the unkind ones. they do. they have.

and I know for me, those check ins and messages brought me comfort when I needed it. they helped.

so if you’re unsure what to do, take comfort that a little love does help. it isn’t magic, it doesn’t fix it all, but it does make a difference, and that matters too.

[cator99]

The conversation went like this: general pleasantries followed by her being like I'm so relieved you reached out to me because I really just want to have a more positive relationship with all of you guys and I know how annoying it is when a landlord isn't able to deal with things in a timely manner I get it I'm a renter too... i get the sense that, just as i had over-prepared for the conversation, she had over-prepared to apologize for the fact that the basement bathroom has a recurring leak issues that get patched up and then continue to cause issues meanwhile she's literally going through a divorce and has to keep postponing because she wants to be there when the repair dudes come to make sure they're doing their job properly but she has a big trial coming up and had to put it off by another week, it's really no big deal tbh... I assured her that she's been doing a fantastic job at staying on top of things and communicating with us oh my fucking god okay new girl is banging that fugly creepy white boy she keeps bringing over so god damn loud l cant wait for her to gtfo anyways yeah so we basically just spent 10 minutes getting on the same page like we good we good she just wants to make sure that everyone is chill in the house and we had a really good talk about what we all want from this but TLDR once we got down to business it went like this:

Me: Pins Girl is the problem

Her: omg slay I fucking hate her please go on

Me: yaaaas she fucking sucks here's some tea sis....

Her: ok work so I'm not crazy for being like maddd uncomfortable around her like one time this thing happened...

Me: omg lol no seriously she's vile here's another wild example related to your anecdote....

Her: no way bestie she did that to me too. Just 0 to 100 in an instant I didnt even know what to do just being accused of every -ism under the sun

Me: yeah no that's just kind of how things go with her you cant get so much as an innocent Hello in without her immediately labeling it a hostile attack

Her: yas okay good riddance so what's the deal with this new girl she's her friend should I be concerned

Me: oh girl.......... so, no not really she's a sweetheart and also– thank god– fully employed. Absolutelyyy messy as hell tho so that's one of my biggest concerns. I think it would be best if you didn't add her to the lease no shade but she's really not a great fit since we're all older and chill and clean af

Her: ...and the rest of the concerns? Oh my god do you think [PG] will try to move back in if we decline her friend???

Me: no wayy she wants OUT out she's already got a new place lined up and her shit in boxes at the door waiting to be hauled off forever

Her: omg like. Far? Like is she moving far? Please tell me she's moving sooo far

Me: yes lmao dont even worry I dont know the exacts but it's nowhere even near here

Her: okay slayyyyy thank you for being dope as hell it's such a relief that this crazy person is gone so we can all just chilllll

Me: okay so about that

Her: ohhh no

Me: yes so you already know what we're dealing with. You know how she deemed me unworthy of being on speaking terms with her? I didn't mind that at all and really just kept tf to myself. Then suddenly she moves in this friend of hers and I just assumed this was done with some sort of approval from you, because that would be the normal thing to do.

Her: okay that's kind of wack, do you guys not like get a vote on these sorts of things

Me: I stayed out of it plus like I'm really not gonna start questioning her and risk putting myself in the line of fire and everyone is pretty much in that position as well

Her: omg no fr...

Me: so like I just kept to myself and my work without thinking about it... then I find out she was living here totally off the record when PG sent that email requesting that she be added to the lease. That's when the conversation opened up. And listen this new girl is super young super naive didnt realize that she was even doing anything wrong and then suddenly everyone's totally freaking out and realizing that this goes against the lease agreement and that if you find out, our ability to live here is jeopardized. She got us into hot water and then just... left us to deal with the consequences.

Her: she's still legally bound by the lease until it changes so if anything goes wrong she wont be escaping accountability no matter how many -isms she throws at me. I want this to work for all of us and we got this trust thang between us and I wouldn't evict you guys omg evictions are seriously sooo annoying and *most* of you have been great tenants especially (names everyone except for the unemployed ftm) they're all super chill and mature and we've had great conversations so yeah I'm just glad she's gone

Me: incredible yaas I love honesty. She has been actively impeding our ability to have a productive working relationship with you and each other it's so crazy

Her: literallyyyy😁🥂🔥yipeee

Me: yippee yaaaaay yay 😇☝️💯

Her: okay so my game plan is to interview the new girl irl like no zoom bs I really wanna read her vibes and decide if this is worth it... I'll give her a chance but if that doesn't work out... I mean... tee hee..... the yearly house inspection is coming up...

Me: ok that's so dope. She's gonna be moving upstairs once PG vacates so its gonna be pretty hard to hide the fact someone's right there even just doing a quick walk-through

Her: yeah so if things don't go well and I decide against putting her on the lease and they still don't admit to having her there then at least I can talk to them about it when the inspection happens and be chill about it and pretend like I totally had no idea. We can work something out as long as everything is good you know what I mean... okay if you need anything at all dont even hesitate to give me a call

Me: absolutely and if I have any updates I'll let you know ASAP, lmk if you need anything srsly I dont want to cause you any more stress like from what i understand you've had a stressful enough year

Her: yes good lord i have, thank you for being considerate..... seriously it's been hellish and this conversation has been such a relief

etc etc obviously the conversation was longer and more thorough but you get the gist. She's awesome. We hung up and I skipped my way to the grocery store

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I jinxed myself with that ask 😔

God hates women frfr

Also this fly needs to stop bothering MEEE

Anyways

What if nightmares castle was like a puzzle

Not the main thing but if you try to get in any of the secret rooms its just confusing as fuck

With that being said what if someone was the one constantly changing it and making the puzzles

What im saying is what if nightmaree grabbed a random wandering papyrus in the multiverse for his castle

Like im assuming this is like...when he is 30 ish so still kinda young and when the castle is still being like 'made' (more like decorated because the others had the great idea to help)

((Its as much chaos as black friday))

Someone had the idea of making puzzles in the castle so thats kinda how it came to be

This is just such a fun concept to me

Also just because i have had nightmare and papyrus as a pair in my head for A YEAR.

A YEAR

Anyways that

But like, this papyrus has been there since almost day 1

Well not technically but dude was early to the party ykyk

Also papyrus likes sparring so he probably has done it with nightmares friends before, probably his lover too

Nightmare too now that i think about it but that was probably more playful sparring (because yk...nightmare kinda needs him for the castle, not that he needs to do much since that papyrus has no one anymore and he likes helping people)

Also papyrus has a golden heart, he probably would see nightmare killing people and still not give up on trying to get him to be good.

He knows nightmare isn't inherently evil, no one is, and nightmare has shown kindness several times to him and his friends.

Idk i just thought that was a fun concept 😌 i got so much more the rant about

Also guess which au this papyrus is

Killer is gonna resort to taking drugs and drinking alcohol 😋

I remember reading somewhere that Nightmare actually did used to have Papyri under his service before resorting to Sanses? Apparently he found them more useful or intelligent or something? Which i thought was pretty mean, but I don’t actually know if that’s canon or not, or if it used to be, though.

But i actually love that idea of a papyrus making puzzles out of the castle and basically being like an architect, hopelessly and perhaps a little too naive to see goodness in nightmare. I don’t know many Papyri AUs, but he sounds similar to a classic papyrus, so perhaps a something new papyrus? Possibly not though.

{ @brokenramunebottle }

[hannahssimblr]

I shoulder through the front doors into the fresh spring air, still a little breathless with adrenaline, to where Michelle is waiting for me. She looks unhappy. 

“How did it go?” I say. 

“Oh, awful, they were like robots, so intimidating. I didn’t know what they thought of my work, you know? I really thought I’d start crying at one point.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and that woman was so cold. She was pulling all of these faces at my self portraits and saying they were naive.”

“Oh, God,” In an attempt at reassurance I start rubbing her arm, “I’m sure they liked plenty things about your work.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I sensed they hated all of it.”

“They couldn’t have, it’s probably just your perception, they… I bet they’re harsh to everyone, you know? They probably don’t want to get anyone's hopes up with there being limited places and all…”

She looks at me, “Was yours bad too?”

“Awful,” I say without missing a beat, “Same as you, they gave me nothing. It was hard to tell what they really thought of my work, but they didn’t seem overjoyed by any of it to be honest.”

“Oh,” her shoulders relax, “well if they were like that with you then they must be just playing hard ball.”

“I think so.”

“What if we don’t get in?”

“Well fuck ‘em,” I grin, “We don’t need them. NCAD? Who cares, right? It’s not exactly at the top of our list.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

“Something else will work out, right?”

“Of course it will! C’mon, let’s just grab a coffee and chill out,” I drape my arm over her shoulder and walk her around the corner to where I parked the car. 

The car, the brand new, shiny, blue Volkswagen Polo that my parents got me for my eighteenth birthday, is gleaming under the afternoon sun, one tyre wedged awkwardly against the kerb because I haven’t yet mastered the art of parallel parking when there are two other impatient drivers beeping their horns at me and gesticulating wildly out their windows. 

“He just got his fucking licence, you spas!” Michelle screamed at them from the passenger window as I manoeuvred myself into a gap big enough to house an articulated truck but somehow felt the width of a water closet as soon as I tried to fit my 1.0 litre hatchback into it. I could have told her that firing middle fingers at other drivers left and right wasn’t really doing much to diffuse the situation, but it seemed she was reaching some sort of catharsis from it. She likes that. Screaming, I mean.

This car has been a point of contention, not because I can’t park it well, but because it was an extravagance I neither needed nor desired. “We live in the city,” I protested when my parents handed me the keys, “I can just take the bus.” But they had this idea that I might like to drive it into school and be the envy of all the other students, poverty stricken losers without parents who can buy them vehicles worth half the average national salary. I told them I can just walk like always, and they didn’t like that. 

“This is a good present,” said my dad, as though insisting could make it so, “You can drive all over, you won’t have to rely on public transport any more.”

“Did I say I didn’t like public transport?”

“Well, you could get mugged on the bus, someone could pull out a knife and take your phone and all of your money! That kind of thing is happening all over the city lately.”

I showed him my Nokia from 2004 and asked him what kind of person might like to risk prison for it, but he didn’t appreciate that, and it just escalated the argument further. 

“I’m not going to even live in Ireland in a year, not if I can help it!” I cried with exasperation, after a further ten minutes of his dramatics, “What’s the point?”

“Sell it then!” he bellowed back, “I don’t care what you do! It’s yours!”

“I just don’t need it! It’s too much. You can use that money for something better.”

“Money? Money is not an issue.”

“Well that car will be wasted just sitting in the driveway.”

“You’ll figure out what to use it for.”

And I did. I still walk to school, I still take the bus into town most days (when I’m not hauling two A1 portfolio cases along with me), but sometimes, late at night Michelle and I drive up and down the coast. We get ice cream at the drive through, we talk, but mostly I park it in the darkest corner of some car park, sea facing for maximum romance, and we fuck in the passenger seat. Not that I’ve kept track of it by any means, but I’m almost certain I have spent more time having sex in my shiny, blue, Volkswagen Polo than actually driving it. I’m sure it wasn’t Christopher’s intention for it, and it might affect the resale value, but the car has become a haven of sorts, a place where we can go to be alone, at a safe distance from my nosy sister, from Michelle’s anxious father, and perhaps most vitally, from Jen, who has never quite stopped being weirded out by our relationship, even with nine full months to get used to it.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[snippychicke]

Kinktober Week Two-- Kuro

Prompt: Sex Toys

Warnings: ok, this one does get some warning for some hints of sadomasochism, possibly exhibitionism, and you know. Being sexually explicit.

You were regretting everything. Your knees were weak as you leaned against the wall, trying to control your breathing and not let any kind of noises escape

(Phone won't load gifs, reusing this one)

You were regretting everything. Your knees were weak as you leaned against the wall, trying to control your breathing and not let any kind of noises escape.

But god was it hard.

The small vibrator nestled against your clit buzzed, slowly then growing faster before slowing once more. As if wherever he was, Klahadore was lazily playing with the control in his pocket.

You would kill him for this. Nevermind you had fully agreed to it and had been excited at the thought. This was pure torture. Fuck. You were so wet it was making it better/worse.

"Are you okay?" Kaya's soft voice called out, breaking you from your thoughts. You opened your eyes briefly, your gaze landing on the young lady of the manor, looking rather worried as she leaned on Klahadore's arm.

Speaking of the fucking devil. You bit back a whimper as the vibration suddenly ramped up all the way, knees buckling for a short moment before you caught yourself.

"F-fine, my lady," you gasped out as the sensation suddenly died away, allowing you to catch your breath.

"Nonsense. You look absolutely feverish and you can barely stand! Why are you trying to work when you're so ill?"

Because apparently you were dating a sadomasochist. (Or maybe that was you?)

"You're quite right, miss Kaya. If you wouldn't mind," Klahadore spoke in that silk voice of his, sounding just as worried as the young woman. As if he didn't know exactly why you were in such a state. "I think it would be best if perhaps I helped her to her room."

Your stomach twisted at the thought, your mind instantly thinking of sweet relief. Yet at the same time, the look in Klahadore's dark eyes promised just as much pain as pleasure. (The fact it was lowkey exciting you was not something you were going to address.)

"Absolutely," Kaya agreed before you could even think to protest however weakly. "I can take care of myself for a few minutes."

The damn thing ramped up once more suddenly, and you couldn't stop the scream as you knees buckled. Klahadore was quick enough to catch you before you hit the floor, his arm wrapping around your waist as he helped you stand.

"Oh. I'm worried it may take more than a few minutes."

-*-

The second the vibrator was pulled from between your wet folds, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Look at how wet you are," Klahadore purred, slipping his hands from his gloves before sliding two fingers into you. You bit back a moan, head arching back as he curled his fingers into that sensitive spot. "You looked so pitiful earlier; a poor little kitten barely able to stand. It's a good thing our lady is so naive, hmm?"

"Fuck, please, Klahadore!" You whined as his fingers moved slowly--an agonizing snail pace that was driving you crazy. This why you both love and hated this man--he loved to torture you in the best of way, pushing and finding your breaking point and the fucking edging it.

A cat playing with a mouse.

"Only because Kaya is no doubt waiting impatiently." He pulled his finger from you, taking his time to lick the slick from his digits as if it was a delectable treat while his other hand worked on the fastening of his pants. "Now, no coming until I say so, understood? Or I'll have to punish you again."

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 17, 2021 4:00 a.m. paradise hotel

three hours later

[grant] you know, i didn’t get a good start to dealing with the whole “my body is broken” thing.

[henry] huh? oh, sorry, i'm awake and heard you; i was just surprised.

[grant] the first time that, um, i got really sick after my sister died, everyone just thought i was mcfucking mentally losing it. i mean, i was, but also i could not get out of bed, could not walk, couldn��t hold a toothbrush even because my hands wouldn’t move…

[grant] and my parents, who are medical professionals, wouldn’t take me to any doctor because they thought i was melodramatic.

[henry] you missed two months of school. we went different schools but i remember that. i didn’t see you for that two months either.

[grant] they only ever took me because they got tired of dealing with me, and they were getting in trouble for me being truant. and what do you know? like every other kid with something wrong, the answer was growing pains. you're tall for your age, so that's it!

[henry] doctors are stupid sometimes.

[grant] tell me about it. i lived with two idiot doctors for eighteen years. the proof is in the pudding.

[grant] and then, uhh, there’s the whole…

[grant] the whole college thing.

[grant] did i ever tell you how i became an addict, bud?

[henry] you’ve never wanted to.

[henry] i assumed it was because people try to numb childhood trauma. and i could tell something was not right with the college hockey team situation, but i didn’t know what or if that was connected at all.

[henry] it could have come from anywhere. most everyone in college does drugs. i smoked a lot of weed.

[grant] it’s both of your assumptions. there were a lot of things i needed to suppress, and i didn’t know how to control myself after tasting the slightest bit of freedom from my parents. but also…

[grant] the dudes on the hockey team hated me except sebastian. i just didn’t click. i wasn’t the right kind of person to fit in that very dudebro jock locker room.

[grant] so, on one hand, i started on a bunch of party drugs and alcohol because i figured out that when i got fucked up out of my mind, they finally found me funny, and you know how i am.

[henry] you are really desperate for people to like you and for you to not feel like you're imposing.

[grant] it’s totally true. i need to be liked. and need is the right word. it’s not as bad now, i've grown out of it a bit, but still, the feeling is there. i need to be liked and to not be anyone's burden.

[grant] yet that’s not the whole story.

[grant] i was, um, well, also illegally prescribed a lot of painkillers.

[grant] by the team's medical people.

[grant] my health issues were already there, but playing a contact sport made it worse. i'm gonna be honest, i don’t remember what happened, but i got some kind of back injury, and i went right back to that state i was in after my sister died.

[grant] seriously, same stuff. couldn’t really get out of bed, couldn’t function. at least not without...

[henry] oh god. i don’t like the way this sounds.

[grant] i was naive enough to hope that people might do the right thing for me once in my life, so i told the medical staff, like, hey, i'm suffering, and i need help. and they just kind of, uh, waved me off and said their job was to patch me up so i could be on the ice, not fix me.

[grant] i was already trouble in all the staff's eyes because i was the odd one out in the locker room, and that's not looked upon well. so, in hindsight, i should have seen literally all the red flags or should have been brave enough to just break down and see a real doctor elsewhere again, but i didn’t.

[grant] anyway, the team staff offered me opioids and i gladly took them. and they kind of sort of barely worked. so i took more. and more and more, and i mixed them with all kinds of other substances. like, i should probably be dead from the amount of mixing i did or from just the sheer volume of drugs i took. also, no one gave a fuck how many times a week i came in to ask for drugs as long as i played hockey good enough.

[henry] and you were good.

[grant] still, the pills never genuinely made me feel better. they just got me high enough to forget about suffering. that makes sense now because i have a diagnosis and have heard nothing but anti-inflammatories are going to really work on resolving the whole pain thing. too late for that, though. i'm an addict. yes, am, not was, even if i'm sober. so, i won't touch them now. i haven't in years.

[grant] but there you go! there’s the story.

[grant] that feels supremely embarrassing to have told, but i wanted to get it off my chest. you are my best friend. more than that. you're family. you're my brother. i don’t have to be afraid to tell you anything and you deserve to know the truth.

[grant] especially because you've never shied away from honesty and you stuck with me that whole time. i don’t think most addicts are lucky enough to have friends and family that patient. and i tried many, many times to push everyone away so i could destroy myself in peace. i wouldn’t blame any of you if you had given up on me.

[grant] yeah. it's not very kind of me to receive that much, um, grace and love and forgiveness, and not at least reward and thank you with the truth. the full and honest truth, even if you didn't ask for it. oh, and a window into why i am the way i am, why i keep my mouth shut.

[skitskatdacat63]

Hey, do you remember that really homoerotic scene from Skyfall? No? That's okay, here's a Vettonso version of it :)

- explanation & w/o text:

Hi hello, finally my weird psychosexual relationship with Casino Royale has come to fruition. Yeah this is directly based off a scene from Skyfall, but I def envision the vibe as being more like Casino Royale hehe. I can't believe I made that inspo board for this AU almost 4 weeks ago, and then ended up drawing a four panel "comic" about it. Ahhhh proud of myself, a bit, a tad. I think this took 20+ hours across the span of a week? God. Anyways I digress! The AU!!

First of all, their Bond song would be "My Way of Life" by Frank Sinatra. It's so toxic, codependent and obsessive, I'm in love with it. And it really suits Fernando and his motivations and outlook in this AU. Basically, MI6(in the context of James Bond) in this AU is an analog for Ferrari. It picks theses guys up, tells them that they're Ferrari MI6's most special boy, chews them up, and then spits them out when they're finished extracting all their talent and skill and life force.

Much like with Ferrari, Seb in this AU replaces Fernando after Fernando loses favor and becomes undesirable. Now Seb is the new golden boy, and Fernando has turned to a life of crime! Fernando resents Seb for this of course, but also becomes obsessed with him and the idea of him , and how they are connected. It's weird to watch someone else basically go down your exact same path and unknowingly make all the same mistakes(buying into the mysticism of it all too much, being overly cocky, having naive beliefs and goals, etc.) He is caught between wanting to doom Seb even more but also wanting to "save" him, by corrupting him and convincing him to work together.

Basically: He's both a Bond girl and Bond villain.

Fernando is in such a weird place in this AU. I think he's just very dramatic. Seb is just casually living his best 007(005?) life, and Nando is watching him with binoculars, whispering to himself: "DOESN'T HE UNDERSTAND THAT WE ARE NARRATIVE FOILS!?" Yeah he hates Seb, but like the song lyrics say, their lives and dreams are inherently tied up together. He would feel lost without Seb, because Seb basically, unknowingly, destroyed and then took over his life. Maybe he'll feel satisifed if he manipulates Seb into going down the exact same path a bit better.

About the drawings themselves. Still can't believe this scene is a real thing that actually happened, insane to me. But in this AU, after the events of these drawings, Fernando definitely kicked all his henchman out of the room, and fucked Seb in the chair. And then against the wall. And then on the floor. Hey man, Seb is already looking mighty delicious with his unbuttoned attire and being tied up.

I think the general plot would be that Fernando keeps trying to seduce him to the dark side, and Seb keeps making him think it worked, only to escape at the end of the encounter. Leading Fernando to just come up with increasingly more violent and kinky traps. Seb goes along with it(read: enjoys it), leaving Fernando satisifed, only to somehow escape and wink and make kissy faces at Fernando in the process. (Fernando smoking cigarette in bed: "How do I make him stay. Sigh.")

I like to think though that Fernando does win in the end, by realizing, ah wait shit I do need to actually explain my motivations to Seb. And Seb is so worn down by his job, not Fernando, and how he's being treated, that he listens, really actually listens, and realizes Fernando does really have valid reasons. And then they become evil crime husbands yayyyy. Wow you thought this was a espionage AU? Well it is, but just not the outcome you'd expect.

[cowgurrrl]

How I Get Myself Killed

Pairing: Javier Peña x CIA!reader

Author’s note: god I hate writing endings

Summary: When it rains, it pours [2.7k]

Warnings: canon typical stuff, idk man it’s midnight and I’m tired if you’ve read this far, you get it

Besides the Palace of Justice massacre and the burning of thousands of documents that would've helped to extradite Pablo Escobar to the United States throwing a wrench in things at the Agency, it's also given you a massive headache. You've been stuck in back-to-back meetings about communist activity all day and trying to talk Lou down from grabbing a machine gun and going off into the jungle himself. Noonan is still hesitant about letting you back into the field even though she's cleared you because of that kid Javi and Steve picked up, who is currently being interrogated by Colonel Carillo. On top of that, Southern Command has decided to pull the resources offered to the DEA and redirect them to fight against M-19 radicals. Javi is pissed, Steve is worried about Connie, and you're stuck at your desk, listening to wiretap information and making notes. It's a fucking nightmare.

You know Escobar made the connection with M-19, and you know if you had the clearance, you could have that information and witnesses ready to go by the end of the week. But the CIA wants to focus solely on the fact that the Palace of Justice was taken over by a communist group. To them, it means fuck all if Escobar had anything to do with it. A stint in a political office, hundreds if not thousands of sicarios at his disposal, millions of dollars, a kidnapped CIA agent, and an attempt at a government takeover, and still, the CIA won't consider Escobar a higher security threat than communists. You throw your headphones off, unable to listen to the staticky recordings anymore and bury your face in your hands.

It's been days now. You've spent practically every waking second in the office, and when you manage to make it home, you don't sleep. When you do, you're woken up by nightmares every few hours. The lack of sleep has made you jumpy and annoyed by every little request asked of you, especially if the person asking even utters the words M-19. You want this investigation to be over so you can move on. So you can get closer to Escobar. So you can sleep through the night for once.

"You alright there?" A sweet voice asks, and you pick up your head to see Colleen, Ambassador Noonan's secretary, standing there. She's always been nice to you, often sharing stories back and forth when she drops something at your desk or you catch each other near the coffee pot. With the right amount of pressure, she will spill her guts to you about the inner workings of the Embassy, which has worked out in your favor more than once. She's young, a little naive, and a horrible gossip, but you like her.

"Yeah. Sorry," you say, smoothing your shirt and smiling at her. "Things have been a little chaotic recently. I'm sure you know all about it."

"Oh, yeah. The Ambassador's been getting call after call every day since the siege. I think everyone's running around like a chicken with its head cut off," she leans in to whisper to you. "Well, everyone except DEA." You chuckle at that and hold your hand out for the file in her hand. She passes it over, but you're more interested in what she knows than Lou's scribbly handwriting.

"I mean, I'm sure you're right, but what makes you say that?”

"Besides the fact that they've been arguing with Colonel Wysession at every turn," she glances around. "Peña and Murphy have been off base at the same times on the same days this week. You know I don't like to gossip, but I wouldn't be surprised if they're out... getting intel." She raises her eyebrows at you to ensure you get her meaning, and you shake your head.

"I'm sure they're off on some wild goose chase just like the rest of us," you barely believe the words as they leave your mouth, but she seems convinced. "Thanks for the file, Colleen." She leaves an adorably mid-western "you betcha" thrown over her shoulder, and you're left alone with your clunky headphones.

Now that you're thinking about it, you can't remember the last time Javi or Steve passed you in the halls. Sure, the days have blended together, but normally, they make themselves known by appearing at your desk with some request or even just a cup of coffee. If it's not one of them, it's both. Noonan might've made them take a walk or even ordered them off base for arguing with Lou, but they would've told you before they left. Then again, they're agents just like you. You don't like people knowing every move you make, so you can have plausible deniability. Something pricks at the back of your skull, but your phone rings before you can let it develop. You answer the call with your last name and hear someone shuffling on the other line.

“¿Puedes venir aquí?” Javi asks in a hushed tone. Speak of the Devil. He sounds stressed, and you can feel the anxiety rolling off him through the phone. You look around to make sure nobody's paying attention to you and sigh, holding the phone closer to your ear.

"¿Ahora?" You ask, and he hums.

"Sí, ahora."

"Soy trabajando."

"Please," he says. “Sabes que no preguntaría si no fuera importante.” You take a deep breath and check the time on your watch. There are still a few more hours left in your work day, but you've clocked enough overtime this week that, realistically, nobody could argue with you for leaving a little early. You'd also love an explanation as to what he's been doing. If Colleen has noticed, the likelihood that somebody else has is high enough to make your palms sweat. And even if this is the kind of call you would expect from Javi, you know you can get it out of him one way or another.

“Será mejor que hagas que esto valga la pena.” You don't even wait for him to respond before hanging up and standing from your desk. You gather your things quickly before anyone can see you leaving. What's a few hours spent playing hooky from work when dealing with cartels and coups, right?

When you knock on Javi's door, you're half-expecting him to pull you into his apartment before you can even say a word and fuck you until you're both too spent to even think about the horrors of the day, let alone dwell on them. So, to say you're shocked when Steve opens the door and greets you is an understatement. "C'mon in," he drawls, opening the door wider for you to enter. You furrow your eyebrows but step over the threshold, searching for Javi, only a little frantic.

The walls, as usual, are decked in the stock art that comes with the apartment. When you asked him about it, he just shrugged and reminded you that you guys aren't supposed to be in Colombia for long. You get it. Why make something homey if it's not actually home? Still, you've put up pictures and decorations in your apartment to make the miles between you and your hometown seem smaller. As you make your way down the hallway, the main thing that tells you this is his apartment is the smell. It's a mix of tobacco, the leather of his couch, and the cologne he's prone to wearing when he knows he has to be in meetings and impress the higher-ups. One whiff of it, and you already feel your shoulders relaxing. At least until you find him.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." It escapes your lips before you can stop it. Seeing a DEA agent talking to an M-19 revolutionary will do that to you. You recognize her from the photos pinned to the corkboard in the office. She doesn't look as big and scary now as she does next to other guerillas with long criminal records. Here, on Javi's couch, she looks terrified. "This is the informant you've been talking about?"

"She needs help," he says, almost pleading, and you huff. "And you know more about M-19 than we do."

"Yeah, I also know how much they want for her fucking head, Javi. I can't believe you've known where she was this whole time and didn't say anything. They could try you for treason for this."

"I told you she'd be pissed," Steve says, and you glare at him over your shoulder.

"I don't know why you're acting so smug. Your hands are just as dirty as his," you feel like their mother with your scolding, but you don't know what else to do. You take a deep breath and cross your arms over your chest as you try to tamp your temper down. "How long has she been here?"

"Couple days," Javi says, bowing his head a little like a kid in trouble, and you feel your patience thin.

"Days?" You say. "Have you not been in the meetings where they're discussing tearing the communa apart to find her? And you've just been keeping her here, not even ten minutes down the road?"

"This is probably the last place they'd look." Javi defends, and you scoff.

"Probably," you repeat, more annoyed at Javi's shitty idea of sheltering her than anything else. You pace for a minute or two, your mind swirling, before he stands and walks over to you, his hands coming to your shoulders in a familiar gesture. The muscles in your jaw unclench just enough, and you pause your panic when he looks at you in the way he knows makes you fold. You sigh and glance at Elisa. She looks scared. You're sure the gun on your hip does nothing to make her feel better.

"Just… trust me," Javi says softly. You look between him and Elisa one more time before, against your better judgment, sitting down at one of the bar stools in Javi's kitchen.

"Start at the beginning."

Steve settles against the wall next to you, too anxious to sit, while Javi paces and talks. He explains it all. Elisa meeting Connie at the clinic, her involvement with M-19 and Escobar, and how she ended up in Javi's apartment. Steve chimes in every so often with his own side and ideas for what to do now that you're all involved, but none of them are positive.

"I've got somebody in Cumaral who's sympathetic. She'd be willing to hide her until she can testify. We just need to get her there soon." Javi says finally. You're about to open your mouth to offer to drive before remembering the hit still out on you and the fact that you'll probably be stuck in meetings about this exact topic for the foreseeable future. It seems to connect for Steve at the same time because he sighs heavily and rubs his temple.

"I can drive her early in the mornin' and be back by tomorrow night. Noonan wants me to stay with Gaviria while you go to Cartagena anyway." Steve says, looking at Javi, and your brows knit together in confusion.

"You're going to Cartagena?"

"We have intel that Gacha's there. I'm going in... an observational capacity," he says, and you squint at him. You're about to call him on what he's actually going to do in Cartagena until you remember Elisa's presence. The likelihood that she'll repeat any of this to anybody is slim, but you're not willing to take any chances. You give Javi a we'll-talk-about-this-later look and turn back to Steve.

"Hide her in the backseat and take Connie with you. Make it look like a day trip out of the city. They'll be less likely to pull you over if you make it seem like a date or something."

"Woah, woah. Connie isn't a part of this."

"She became a part of this the second she handed over a ticking time bomb," you say. Steve looks like he wants to argue, but you beat him to it. "Or we can just sit on our asses and hope Lou doesn't bust down that door and hang us all out to dry." Steve grinds his teeth and shakes his head as he thinks, and you know you've got him right where you want him. Even if you didn't, you know there was no way in Hell Connie was gonna let him do this alone. Not when she's been so involved up to this point. He curses under his breath and scrubs a hand down his face.

"She better give the best fuckin' testimony anyone's ever heard," he says, and you nod. Once you iron out a few more logistics together, Steve goes upstairs to explain the plan to Connie, only a little pissy that he's the one having to execute it. The second he's out the door, Javi turns to Elisa and clears his throat.

"You mind givin' us a minute?" He asks and she stands from her place on the couch. You feel bad discussing plans about her without asking her opinion or what she wants to do, but you figure it's only fair. If she wants immunity, this is the price she has to pay.

"Thank you for this." She says, her voice small. You chew on the inside of your cheek and nod.

"Like he said, you better make this worth it," you say. With that, she walks down the hallway, into Javi's office, and closes the door to give you some privacy. It's quiet for a few seconds, the two of you reveling in the unexpected peace in the eye of the hurricane, and his knee bumps yours. It's his MO: intentional gestures small enough to get played off as accidental. It's his way of trying to get back on your good side. You rub your eyes and resist the urge to drop your head against his chest. "When were you gonna tell me you're going to get Gacha?"

"I'm just going to see if he's actually there."

"Is Carillo going with you?" You ask, and he gets quiet again. It's all the answer you need. "If Noonan is sending men with you, he's there, which means you're walking into a war zone."

"He has his kid with him. He might go peacefully," he says, obviously trying to placate you. You give him a look. "I'm on orders to bring him in alive if possible." You open your mouth to say something, but you're cut off by the sound of your sat phone ringing. You sigh in exasperation, grab the phone with one hand, and snake the other around Javi's neck, keeping him close. He doesn't look displeased with the sudden affection and almost keens into you when you run your nails through his hair and answer the call.

"Are you off base?" Carillo says in lieu of a greeting, and you roll your eyes. There's no way you've been gone for over an hour and a half, and they already need you back?

"Getting lunch. What's up?"

"Castillo's ready to sing. Figured you should be here when he does." He says. You hesitate. Not even a full week in custody, and the kid is talking? What the fuck did Carillo do to him? Do you even want to know?

"I'll be back in thirty. Go easy on him until then." The words are barely out of your mouth before you hang up. Javi tucks your hair behind your ears, pulling your attention enough to get you to look at him.

"Go. Steve and I'll keep you updated. If anything goes south, you'll be the first to know." He says. It's meant to be comforting, but the icy fear ribboning around your spine doesn't let up. You nod anyway.

"You come back in one piece, do you hear me?" You ask, poking him in the chest to make your point, and he grabs your hand.

"Loud and clear," he says, squeezing you. You stay like that for another few seconds, knowing this is the closest you'll get to be until this whole thing blows over, and savor the feeling of his warm hand in yours. Hopefully, it’s not the last time. Don't be a fucking hero, you think. You count to three and stand, letting him go and gathering your things in one swoop. He walks you out like a gentleman and kisses you like someone looking for salvation in all the wrong places.

On the drive back to the Embassy, you try to remember what you thought your life would look like when you joined the CIA. They warned you it’d be lonely and you’d have to make hard decisions in the best interest of democracy or whatever other bullshit they fed you in the Academy. You don’t think you were prepared for just how lonely and helpless it can make you feel. You should be helping Javi and Steve but instead you’re being called back to witness whatever horrors were done in the pursuit of information.

“Everyone has to sacrifice things in this line of work,” one of your instructors told you at your graduation ceremony. You thought you were prepared. When Colonel Carillo leads you down the dark hallways and to the bloody nineteen-year-old mumbling prayers under his breath, asking for forgiveness, you know there’s nothing in the world that could’ve prepared you for this. And nothing in the world could’ve prepared you for what more you were about to give up.

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[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I like your blog, we've been mutuals for years. But blogging about the met gala when there are children dying in Gaza? Fuck the met gala and your celebrity worship

at what point have I made it seem like I don't care about/support what's happening in gaza? I don't share a lot about it, but that's because most of what I see have graphic images and videos attached to the posts, and while I understand the thought process behind sharing them to make it seem more real to people, I'm uncomfortable with it because I know that if I was in that situation, vulnerable and injured or dead, I wouldn't want people gawking at me online just so they can pat themselves on the back for 'suffering in solidarity' by making themselves uncomfortable and miserable looking at me. I'm trying to be respectful. I've still reblogged things about gaza though. but honestly, if you've been following me for years, you'd know I'm a pacifist and wouldn't need me to make a statement saying I don't support people being killed. my God, dude.

also, celebrity worship? I can't even tell you who half the people at the met even were. I just like fashion. I post about a bunch of different things on this blog, and you haven't complained about that, so where's the threshold for things people are allowed to enjoy while bad things are happening in the world? fashion is off limits, but doctor who isn't? I can still post about musicals and not support murder, but aesthetic pictures are on par with launching a bomb myself? I truly hate to break it to you, but sharing links on tumblr is not going to fix this situation. denying yourself any shred of entertainment or enjoyment does not give you a moral high ground. what's happening is horrendous, but even if this is somehow magically peacefully solved tomorrow, there will still be other atrocities happening elsewhere in the world. that's unfortunately just how life goes. in no world am I saying we shouldn't care about every single atrocity that happens, I'm just saying if you can't find some time to be happy in your own life just because bad things are happening to others, you will never truly live a life at all. it sucks! but that's how it is. it's like when someone close to you dies, and the first time you laugh after you've started grieving feels like you're betraying them. but you aren't betraying them for continuing to live, just like you aren't betraying anyone else in the world who's suffering just because you don't spend 24/7 thinking and talking about them.

I do truly, genuinely, hope this all comes to a peaceful end, and soon. I'm not naive enough to believe for certain that it will. but I do know, at the end of the day, people are already aware of it. people know what's going on. sharing photos of dead and mutilated babies will not make any difference. you, and I, and everyone else online are not going to personally save gaza. pressure needs to be put on the people who can actually do something to make a change, and they don't care about what's online. arguing with people because you don't perceive them as doing 'enough' isn't going to accomplish anything other than getting them to a point of making them eye roll whenever they see you post, because at the end of the day, unless you're literally a top politician, you are doing the exact same amount to help as someone who reblogs less posts than you. sorry.

[intomusings]

﹒﹒  guts   sentence   starters    !

my  brain  goes  ahhh  !  guts by olivia rodrigo just dropped and it's been on repeat  in my household .  olivia rodrigo  can do no wrong in my opinion and i  realized  that  the  lyrics  make  for  some  perfect  sentence  starters  —  so  under  the  cut  you’ll  find  a  bunch  of  heart  wrenching  and angsty one  liners  .  if  u  found  this  useful  ,  feel  free  to  like  or  reblog  to  boost  this  .

﹒﹒  all - american bitch  :

" i feel for your every little issue , i know just what you mean .. "

" you know me , i forgive and i forget .. "

" i got what you can't resist "

" i know my place and this is it "

﹒﹒  bad idea right?  :

" haven't heard from you in a couple of months .. "

" i'm out right now and i'm all fucked up "

" i know we're done , i know we're through but god when i look at you .. "

" seeing you tonight , it's a bad idea , right ?

" i know that he's my ex but can't two people reconnect ? "

" i only see him as a friend .. "

" i know i should stop but i can't . "

" i'm sure i've seen much hotter men but i really can't remember when "

﹒﹒  vampire  :

" i loved you truly "

" i've made some real big mistakes but you make the worst one look fine "

" i used to think i was smart but you made me look so naive "

" every girl i ever talked to told me you were bad news "

" you called them crazy god i hate the way i called them crazy too ! "

" you're so convincing , how do you lie without flinching ? "

" can't figure out how you do it and god knows i never will "

" you said it was true love .. "

" you can't love anyone cause that would mean you had a heart "

" i tried to help you out , now i know that i can't . "

" how you think is the kind of thing i'll never understand "

﹒﹒  lacy  :

" did i ever tell you i'm not doing well ? "

" i see you everywhere .. "

" i'm losing it lately . "

" well aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist ? "

" my stomach's all in knots "

" you got the one thing that i want "

" it's like you're made of angel dust "

" it's like you're out to get me "

" you poison every little thing that i do "

" i just loathe you lately "

﹒﹒  ballad of a homeschooled girl  :

" i don't think i get along with anyone .. "

" i guess i should go .. "

" i told secrets i shouldn't tell . "

" i made it weird , i made it worse . "

" oh god , what did i say ? "

﹒﹒  making the bed  :

" i thought it so i said it "

" sometimes i feel like i don't wanna be where i am "

" i'm so tired of being the girl that i am "

" i'm playing the victim so well in my head "

" i got the things i wanted , it's just not what i imagined "

﹒﹒  logical  :

" god , you're so good at what you do . "

" i'd put myself through hell for you "

" hear all the rumors lately that you always denied "

" you convinced me , it was all in my mind "

" changing you is possible .. "

" i'm sure that girl is really your friend "

" our problems are all solvable "

" why do i do this ? "

" i know i'm half responsible and that makes me feel horrible "

" i know i could've stopped it all .. "

﹒﹒  get him back!  :

" i met a guy in the summer .. "

" i wanna get him back "

" i wanna make him really jealous "

" i really miss him and it makes me real sad "

" i miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh "

" i am my fathers daughter so maybe i could fix him "

" i wanna key his car "

" i wanna break his heart "

﹒﹒  love is embarrassing  :

" i told my friends you were the one "

" you said space was what you need "

" i waited by my phone like a goddamn fool "

" i consoled you while you cried .. "

" how could i be so stupid ? "

" you found a new version of me "

" i give up everything "

﹒﹒  the grudge :

" one phone call from you and my entire world was changed "

" you took everything i loved and crushed it between your fingers "

" i doubt you ever think about the damage that you did "

" i hear your voice every time i think i'm not enough "

" how could anybody do the things you did so easily ? "

" i say i don't care , i say i'm fine but you know i can't let it go . "

" i fantasize about a time you're a little fucking sorry "

" i try to understand why you would do this all to me "

" do you think i deserved it all ? "

" you have everything and you still want more "

" but even after all this , you're still everything to me "

" i know you don't care "

﹒﹒  pretty isn't pretty  :

" there's always something missing "

" i don't know why i even try "

﹒﹒  teenage dream  :

" it gets better , but what if i don't ? "

[latinapoetbts]

Nostalgic Love Dairy: First Kiss | KTH & Reader (Latina)

Summary: Sweet First Kiss between two high school students who were best friends. Unrequited love. Note: Written in all in one go, no editing. First Kiss

“What’s on your mind? You see quite today”. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t turn to face him. I knew if I did my eyes would confirm my heart's whispers. He had always told me these three truths about me.

One, I was a terrible liar. Little did he know I was a champion at lying to him. I had to hid my true feelings. I was only good at lying about that.

Two, I wore my heart on my sleeves, unless my heart tried to protect me from him. 

Three, he was my favorite person in the entire world. 

My eyes give my “favoritism away.” Thankfully, he’s either dumb, naive or trying to keep my heart from shattering into a thousand pieces by rejecting me. I chose to believe he was naive because he was annoyingly intelligent, and protecting me from rejection was too painful to imagine. Yet deep down, I knew it was likely the real truth. 

“I’m just thinking about next weekend.” After speaking I continued to naw at the around my nails, a nasty habit that was nearly impossible to quit, just like wanting him I suppose. I hear him move as he swats at my hand.

“Y/N, stop that, or you have nothing left but bones on those fingers”. I frown and pout now feeling secure enough to face him just in time to catch a glimpse of his heart-melting, charming face as he burst into laughter. God, I could listen to his laugh all day, the best alternative to Zoloft ever!

“That face right there is so adorable and funny at the same time!”, he struggles to get out his word in a fit of laughter falling back against the grass. 

“Shut the fuck up.” I lay down next to him shielding my eyes from the sun. 

“Ok ok, so tell me what's up.” I let out a sigh quickly rehearsing in my head the story of half-truths I was preparing to tell. 

“Well, this guy who, Kat says likes me invited us to a party he is throwing next weekend. Kat says he will definitely try to kiss me. I’m nervous. Since well–, (sigh) I’ve never kissed anyone before. Ugh, I’m such a loser.” I let my genuine feelings show. Nervousness, despair, and longing.  I feel him moving beside me once again.

“You’re not a loser for not ever kissing anyone.” I imagine he has propped himself up and is facing me, but I'm not ready to look at him. I’m nervous my eyes will show him just how badly I want him to kiss me. I keep my eyes shielded with my hand, using the blazing sun as an excuse to hide my eyes.

“Do you like him?”, I couldn't help but notice the slight change in his tone of voice yet I was uncertain what his voice was saying. I let out another sigh.

“I think he is super hot but he’s not very smart (laughing).” My heartbeat in my chest was defiantly sending a morse code message: No, I don’t like him, because he’s not you. 

“But Tae, I’m about to be 18 and I’ve still never been kissed. I don’t care anymore if my first kiss is meaningful. I just want to experience it all ready.” I close my eyes. I don’t want to see his face at all, I’m too scared. Silence. 

“Y/N. I think it’s sweet you’ve never kissed before because you want it to be meaningful and it’s worth it. You shouldn’t let anyone pressure you otherwise.” Ugh, I hate him for being so perfect and sweet, and how it only makes me want him more. I feel anger surging through my body. I had only said that to him because I’ve been holding out for him to kiss me for the last three years. It’s all I think about. I’m starting to lose my resolve. 

“Oh ya, Tae? Is it worth waiting to kiss the right person? Hmm?” My anger causes me to face him, we are now laying on our sides inches from each other faces.

“Because your make-out conquest list says otherwise.” A smirk formed on his plump pillowy pink lips, if I leaned forward just enough I could taste them. I mentally shake off the thoughts of wanting to taste his lips reminding myself I’m mad and jealous. I picture the times I’ve caught him making out with a few different girls from my school who live in my neighborhood. This is good fuel for the fire of jealousy. 

“Y/N, oh come on, that’s not the same, I don’t even like those girls and trust me. Kissing is not as good if it's not meaningful with the right person. I promise.” There was a soft distance and longing in his voice. Whoever she is, whoever he is thinking of is very lucky, stupid and I hate her. I’m glad he has kept this story to himself. The amazing meaningful kiss. Yes, we are best friends but we both have secrets better left in hiding. 

“Ok well that’s your opinion and I don't have the experience you have had so I want to decide that for myself.” My jealous anger dies down and my nervousness reves up, but nothing to do with him.

“If he tries to kiss me, I'm going to let him but I’m nervous that the kiss will be terrible because of me. Because I don't know what the fuck I’m doing. Then the whole school will know I’m a terrible kisser.” I roll from my side to my back again shutting my eyes. 

“You have any tips lover boy?” I laugh and then blow out my lips leaving them puckered. There is a long silence. I open my eyes to see if he’s still here, surprised to find him staring at my mouth, I nervously lick at them. Is there a weird crust or drool there I began to wonder. His eyes finally meet mine briefly as he rolls to his back no longer looking at me. 

“What? Is there something gross on my mouth? Jerk you can at least tell me” I start to use the back of my hand to rub at my lips. 

“ No. There's nothing wrong with your lips. Sorry, I have no tips for you. And don’t worry it wont be so bad.” He sits up quickly crossing his legs. 

“It’s too fucking hot, lets go get bobba tea.” He says as he gets up reaching his hand down to mine to help me up.

“What?! Tae? Seriously? You're not going to give me even one tip or strategy” I grab ahold of his hand and pull myself up. 

“Your an asshole, friend.” I turn eyeing the bikes we had rode on.

“But I’m your favorite asshole friend. And you can’t get rid of me”, laughter fills the space between the two of us. I hate him and love him all at once. 

Friday - One Day Before the Party

I stare in the full length mirror in my room holding the red tube dress against my body. This out fit was not me. I’m a 3 months away from turning 18 and four months away from graduating high school. I felt more like a young girl then what society deemed me as an adult. It wasn;t my style to wear form fitting close, this was more of Kats style or more so her style after completely her first semester of college. I wasn’t a high school party girl rather I was more a friendly, sporty, girl next door type with a mexican flare. Wearing a tight fitted red tube dress was way out of my comfort zone. I looked at my bed considering the other two outfits. One outfit a red v-cut fitted long sleeve and a pair of jeans that accentuate my thickness. The other outfit was a off the shoulders green dress with legging and cute boots. The other two outfits were not as intimidating for me. I place the red tube dress back on the bed.

“Kat, I just can’t wear that red dress. It’s too much. People will think I’m trying way to hard.” I winced hearing the sigh of frustration out leave her mouth.

“Y/N, your a hot latina! I just don’t get it! You are dressing to impress. Girl! Your going to end up like that never been kissed girl! You can’t keep waiting around for Tae to wake the fuck up and notice you! It’s been almost 9 years and you guys havent kissed! You have to move on!”. I knew she was right but my heart was to fucking loyal and hopeful. 

“Kat, …” I attempt to justify myself. 

“Speak of the devil. Why don’t you ask Tae what outfit you should wear to the party…”. My eyes grow wide in panic as she walks away form the window. I try to quickly put my clothes away.

“Oh no you don’t Y/n.” my heart rate quickens, hearing his foot steps up the stairs.

“Hey, Tae! Your just in time. I was just on the way out but y/n could really use a guys opinion. I’ve helped her all I can on what outfit to wear to the party tomorrow for Chris. Help her out. Bye guys see you tomorrow!” I try to hold back the scowl forming on my face gripping the tube dress in my hands. 

“Hey Tae. They let you off of work early tonight?” I ask walking to my clothes to put away the outfits.

“Wow, you must really like this guy.” He teases me walking towards me grabbing the hanger out of my hands.

“Well, lets see what you got? I’ll give you my honest guy opinion.” I roll my eyes annoyed with his teasing.

“Ok, tell what you think about that dress. What does it say. And I do not really like him, I think he’s really hot. Theres a difference.” I look out the window only to see Kat’s car still parked outside my house. 

“Sure sure. Well…” The door flys open to my room. 

“I knew it. I knew your were going to do this y/n, go in there and put it on with the heels and accessory! He has to actually see you in the outfit to give an honest opinion!” I was seething. There would be pay back for this Kat.

“She does have a point y/n”. I snatched the outfit from Tae’s hand and marched into the bathroom in my room. I get dressed listening to the two of them talk.

“Chris is super hot and he practically eye fucked her all last your but you know how our sweet naive, y/n is, she is oblivious to it all.” 

“I’m all for supporting her looking her best. I just don’t want to push her into anything she does not want to do Kat.” 

“Of course not Tae! But she wants the experience and I fully support her. I really do gotta go! I’m already late for my date with Carlos! So promise me you will have her model the three out fits and give her your best guy perspective of her outfits. I’m counting on you Tae! Also some kissing tips would be great too! Bye!”. I was so annoyed with the two of them trying to dictate what they think I want. And fucking fumming that Kat would bring up giving me kissing tips. It was my anger that helped me out of the bathroom so I could get this over with. I open the door stomping out with pouty lips. This is so ridiculous.

“Here it is Tae, Kat’s outfit she picked for me. I hate it, honestly. It’s too short and to tight. It’s so uncomfortable. I feel like I’m being desprate it in..” I stop rambling pulling my curls into a high ponytail turning towards my full lengthen mirror to check the hair style. I pause looking at the mirror at Tae, because of the deafening silence in the room. He was completely silent.That’s when I catch his eyes in the mirror. His lips slightly parted open his eyes racking slow over every inch of my body. I couldn’t believe the way he was looking at me, my heart was racing and my skin was on fire but I just couldn’t tare my eyes from him. Finally, after a long pause his eyes landed on mine.

“ y/n, sorry, I’m just shocked. It’s so weird to see you in something like this...”, I felt my cheeks go hot and the embarsement in the pit of my stomach start to rise.

“Ya, your right. I look and feel complete stupid in this outfit.” I let my hair fall and get back inside the bathroom as quickly as possible. I fight back the tears in my eyes as I change back into my basketball shorts and my t-shirt. I take my time pretending to use the bathroom and wash my hands when I’d really washing way my tears and flushed cheeks. I wanted to hide the evidence that I had be tearing up. I don’t think Tae finds any part of me attractive and this movement was all the proof I needed. Once I feel like I don’t look like I had been crying I open the door to find Tae still sitting on my bed looking towards me.

“Y/n, I’m sorry for how I reacted you don’t look stupid in the outfit. It’s just, um, it’s not you thats all. You know what I mean? and since you wanted my opinion. I just think you might be sending the wrong message like…um…” I can tell he is struggle to find the right words.

“Like what? What message am I send by wearing this red tube dress?...Tae I swear if you are…suggesting…”. I watch him stand and close the gap between us with purpose, placing his hand on my cheek too tenderly for me to not feel weak in the knees. His eyes lock with mine as he licks his lips.

“I’m no good with words. I’ll show you instead…” his eyes fall to my mouth, tilting his head, his lips feather against mine pausing for the tiniest fraction of a second before pressing full on against mine. My own eyes fall shut in pure bliss. Fucking finally. The longing and now the ache igniting withing me. His lips moved seductivly and tenderly against mine slowly increasing the intensity and plush warm pressure. I was in heaven. His tongue joined in, caressing my lips into opening allowing him entrance and dominance. I merely followed along mirroring his caresses. I was doomed and damned forever more. A moan sliped through my lips my core in between my legs burning like a fiery furnace threatening to burn me alive. 

My moan, seemed like a trigger because his lips began to consume me. Our tongues coliding together, sliding, dueling together. His tongue pausing only to lick and suck at my lips realsing them with a pop each time before diving back into explore my mouths’ every crevice. A buzzing and ringing beginning to interrupt my sweet bliss allowing a moment to gasp for air our lips breaking apart. I did not care about breathing while we kissed. Air was the last thing on my mind. 

“That’s how you do it. That’s how you kiss. You’ll do just fine.…” He speaks out in a whisper barely able to catch his breath. He steps away our eyes locked in silence the loud buzzy and ringing sounding like an alarm. He grabs his phone silencing the phone after seeing who called. There is flash in his eyes of panic or shock. I’m not completely sure but is was a look that said this moment was over. I heard a door outside closing. I knew it was probably my brother coming home from work. 

“y/n, I gotta goI’ll see you tomorrow at the party ok. I hope the lesson helps”. I barely nod my lips still swollen.

“Ya, that’s a good idea, you know how miguel gets with you here….bye…”, I feel dizzy and high at the same time. He turns to leave.

I finally got my first kiss and he was right. It was everything;meaningful, passionate hungry and perfect. I wanted more. 

I smile putting down my diary remembering that kiss like it was yesterday rather than years ago. He never came to that party the next day and kissing Chris was nothing compared to kissing Tae that night in my room. He had ruined kissing for me nearly to this day. 

[hussyknee]

I got a cleaning service to come clean upstairs three weeks ago because I was so sick and living in filth and Mum's housekeeper wouldn't lift a finger to help me. I was so happy at how good a job the guy did that I gave him a huge tip. And then the housekeeper fucked off on holiday next day and I had to lug all the trash out myself and thank god I looked in it because this idiot had thrown all three of my cats' scratch baskets in it along with a solid brass window fastener. I looked through the trash best I could but I don't know how well I did it through the haze of pain and fatigue. I figured he'd thought the baskets were done for because my cats had scratched them to pieces and the brass fastener might have been a mistake. Then a week later I can't find the very expensive coir carpets that were in my room floor. Or my bottle of screen cleaner I last saw rolled under the bed. At that point I called the place and demanded where that guy had stuffed them and the supervisor said he didn't remember as it had been two weeks and why didn't I call earlier. FOR THE SAME REASON I NEEDED A CLEANING SERVICE FUCKBRAIN I CAN'T MOVE WITHOUT WANTING TO CRY IN PAIN. I know the cleaner didn't take anything with him because he didn't bring a bag and his hands were empty so I figured he'd left whatever stuff he found on the floor in a pile somewhere. WHO THROWS THEIR CLIENT'S STUFF AWAY WITHOUT ASKING?? WHO THROWS OUT A SOLID BRASS HANDLE AND A FULL BOTTLE ON THE FLOOR?? WHO THROWS AWAY BRAND NEW CARPETS??

And now my nice kurta top that was lying on the upstairs couch is also missing. It's nowhere I can find, not in my closet or anyone else's. I want to wail. That's 12k rupees down the drain and I can't even prove he threw them away because the housekeeper was belligerent to him and he insists she must have done it. I fucking hate her but she's worked here for fifteen years being belligerent at people without misplacing anything or trying to frame them by stealing our shit.

I'm heartbroken because none of this would have happened if my body fucking worked. Or my brain stopped being ADHD or I wasn't naive enough to trust people aren't fucking insane. Or if any of the two other able bodied adults in the house would fucking help me. My whole body hurts because I spent the morning tearing the place apart looking for my blouse. And now I can't go to the public hospital to pick up my free medication because I hurt too bad. So I have to buy that this week as well.

I hate being helpless!! I can't live like this anymore!!!

[sevicia]

I actually experience despair on like a daily basis because okay I may be really fucking ugly but people are willing to look past that if your behavior is interesting enough for conversation but not interesting enough for examination and depending on the person they either think I'm nothingburger or bordering on clinically insane and neither of those are exactly ""Atractive"" to like 99.9% of the population and also if god tapped me on the head and suddenly I became mid and my chances increased I would still want to kill myself because recently I've realized just how HARD it is for people to see me as a guy due to my quiet and distant nature COMBINED with the fact that I am physically small which is actually so important to me as stupid as it sounds I really do wish I were taller just throw me a BONE man I'm not even asking for much here and also I hate to say it because anyone would hate to say something like this about their own body but brother I DESPISE my hips or waist to hip ratio or bone structure or whatever the fuck you wanna call it because for a few months now I've been losing weight little by little through inaction (because I don't know how to take care of myself) but I am still very much classified as OverWeight yet my stupid fucking fat distribution makes people go Waittt you've gotten sooo skinnyyyy and it's like first of all I don't give a fuck and it's sad that YOU do second of all you have fallen victim to a wicked optical illusion caused by the fact it's all from the waist down and it PISSES ME THE HELL OFFFFFF that I'm built like this because it's my BONES and it feels like I will never get rid of this obnoxious fucking pear shaped body that doesn't even reach 160cm and that I am aware some people would find attractive shape-wise because brother do I have blemishes and stretch marks which are things people are fucking weird about but I know some people are into the whole blah blah short pear shape thing but in a GIRL WAY it makes me want to tear my fucking hair out that there's so many barriers to ever being found attractive by a fellow human being that has seen me in a 3D space like why did I come out ugly and short and transgender and autistic it's just nerf after nerf after nerf. If someone finds me physically attractive and they are cisgender I will literally not believe they see me as a man for a single second sorry for being paranoid about this but it is just IMPOSSIBLE to fathom first of all finding me attractive second of all genuinely seeing me as a man and both at the same time is just a myth I can't continue to waste time on!!!

This is like the obligatory 4 AM post complaining about being fuckugly that I haven't done in a while because I haven't actually paused to think about it for a while because other stuff or just GOING TO BED. It make me wanna tear my fucking skin off that no one will ever find me physically attractive in a million years because everything about me on a romance front is best described as "Unfortunate." with the dot and everything too I mean sure it's not a big thing for a lot of people especially not people around me 24/7 but no one around me 24/7 has this amount of stupid bullshit attached to them so they don't GET IT and being told shit like "I can't imagine you dating anyone" "You're too naive" "You're not moving out until you get our seal of approval" is actually genuinely soul-crushing and I can't say ANYTHING about it because I wholeheartedly believe all of it is true even though really from the bottom of my heart I wish I didn't but that's just LYING to myself at that point. I can't imagine myself dating anyone, I know I'm naive which is actually just a nicer way of saying stupid and gullible, and I have trouble with certain everyday things but even if I do them perfectly I KNOW my family will find some other reason to keep calling me innocent and naive and unprepared and whatever other insulting thing they wanna pretend is not insulting so they just can't tell why I went quiet when they said YOU'RE NOT LEAVING THIS HOUSE UNTIL WE SAY YOU CAN as if that's not a completely insane thing to say to someone and as if they wouldn't find it insane if some character in some stupid fucking TV show said it to another. But we move and we go to bed. I love everyone I would go insane without transgender autistic people in my phone