#i feel so useless I'm almost 30 but have nothing

[sojirosteacup]

I wish I had a job so bad but no matter how many resumes I send even to low paying jobs I get no reply and I'm so tired

[elliezlils11utt]

Dbf!abby pt 2

contents: nsfw!! age gap (reader is early 20s Abby is mid-late 30!) risky sex! no descriptions of reader..? (I think) fingering, pt 2 to a post I’ve already made and won’t really make sense if you haven’t read pt 1? (technically you can read it w/o pt 1 tho)

pt 1 here!

summary: Abby fucks you while you, your father, and her are watching a movie together.

Wc: 1.5k?

proofread?: no babes sorry

A/n: some of this is quite literally copy and pasted from c.ai. I did not want to write this bc it’s boring. (Hence why it took literally a month to get out!) I hope it lives up to your dreams tho!

taglist: @seraphicsentences @tohoko

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She chuckled at your reaction, stepping away from you just as your dad opened the door. You could tell Abby was disappointed too, but the look in her eyes hadn't completely left.

"Ah, there you are! Come give your old man a hug."

Your dad called out to you, a big smile on his face. He hugged you tightly before looking at Abby.

‘hey dad! how was it?’ your dad replies, rambling on on about a stupid dinner party. To be completely honest you don’t remember half of the shit he was saying really. your eyes too focused on the tempting looks Abby was giving you from behind your fathers back. your heart jumping around in your chest. you’re sight stayed on Abby. bluring out your fathers useless talking. when he finished dragging on his spiel he ruffles your hair, Turing to look at Abby.

‘thanks for watching my little trouble maker, I really appreciate it’

your gaze turns to Abby, looking up at her figure you force your eyes into a puppy dog pout. you take your lip between your teeth, biting the flesh in your mouth. you wink.

‘yah abs, thanks for watching me.’

she rolled her eyes, annoyed at your teasing antics. but truthfully your making her go insane. fuck. she groans at your wink before giving you a warning look, silently telling you to cut it out..

‘yah it was no problem!” her words seem so genuine, a sweet smile flashed at your father before her face deadpans back to you. your father looked between the two of you. raising his eyebrow slightly. you turn to you’re dad giving him a questionable hum.

“Hm?” you act clueless. you can feel Abby’s gaze on you. feeling her eyes trail down your body. your dad seemed slightly suspicious but her jst laughed and let it go.

“nothing, nothing! but hey, Abby if you don’t have any plans, wanna watch a movie? you know all three of us! like old times!”

“what do u say abs? you down to stay a while?” you give her a look, a knowing, begging look.

she raised the corner of her mouth at this offer. her eyes drift from your father to you, then back to your dad.

“Yeah sure, I don’t see why not!” It’s not like she could ever deny you. you and your god damn puppy eyes. your pleading pathetic look. god you were so pretty to her.

“alright im going to go set up the movie.”

“alright daddy, call us in when it’s all set!” you watch your father walk out of the room, when he’s out of sight your catch your lip between your teeth before looking up at abs.

“your a bit of a brat, huh angel? you love teasing me infront of your dad don’t you? little minx.”

“mhm, you love it tho. the adrenaline of almost getting caught, don’t you abs?”

She chuckled and stepped closer to you, her eyes darkening with desire.

"You're very observant, aren't you? How about I test that theory?"

Abby whispered in a low, seductive tone. She ran her hand over your arm, feeling the goosebumps form on your skin. She leaned in, her lips only millimeters away from your ear.

“How about we make sure we don't get caught..?”

“yeah? but oh, what if we did. what if I ran and told daddy right now that his best friend was about to fuck his innocent little daughter? What would happens then abs.”

you say in a teasing, almost daring tone. She paused as you spoke, her eyes darkening even more at your teasing remark.

"Oh really, angel? You're testing me, huh? I'm sure your dad would love to see his daughter pinned against the wall, writhing and moaning because of me."

Abby smirked, her voice dripping with provocative undertones. your lips crash with hers, desperation winning. It was dangerous, your father just in the other room. But the thrill made it even hotter. Abby responded to your kiss passionately, her tongue eagerly slipping into your mouth. She pressed her body against yours, the adrenaline of getting caught making the moment even more intense. She felt your tongue against hers, the taste of you making her dizzy. Abby's hands found their way to your hips, her fingers digging into your skin. It was so dangerous, but so damn good. you hear your father call out from the other room, telling you the movie was set up. You slowly pull away from Abby, looking into her eyes. A string of spit connects your lips to hers. your hands dragging down to hers, pulling her in the living room.

“stay quite okay?”

You can feel her breathing heavy, her chest rising and falling. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted and eyes darkened. Abby is practically speechless as you pull her into the living room. She nods slowly, her voice barely audible as she whispers.

“Okay."

you drag her into the living room plopping down on the couch. Patting the seat next to u. acting as if nothing happened in the room next door. Abby follows you, her heart racing. She takes a seat next to you, trying to compose herself and act nonchalant. Her eyes are fixated on the tv screen, but her body is still buzzing with the adrenaline from your encounter. She leans slightly towards you, her leg grazing against yours under the blanket. you pull her hand onto your thigh under the blanket, turning to her. She looks at you, feeling your touch send sparks through her body. Abby turns towards you too, her fingers tracing circles on your thigh under the blanket. She smiles softly at you, knowing damn well how risky this whole situation is. You drag her hand higher, closer to where you want her. hoping she takes the hint. She feels her heart race as her hand moves higher, her breath hitching. She glances at you, seeing the desire in your eyes. Abby moves even closer to you, leaning in so her breath tickles your ear.

“You're being quite daring tonight, angel. Do you enjoy the danger? Do you want us to get caught?"

you whisper into her ear

“maybe, maybe not. fuck around and find out.”

She shivers as your breath touches her ear, and your whispers send her heart racing even faster. Abby lets out a soft laugh, and her hand continues to move higher, getting closer to where you need it. She leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers back.

“You little... devil. You know what you're doing, don't you?"

“of course I do.” you giggle softly. you feel her hand palm your heat. the contact making you jump. you look at your father, he’s completely interested in the movie. paying no mind to the two of you. her fingers slide your sleep shorts to the side. her digits rubbing your cunt over your painties. you close your eyes, enjoying the pure bliss of what you’ve been wanting for so long. her fingers work at your cunt. feeling your slick build up on the cotton of your painties. you bite down on your lower lip. hard. holding back desperate little moans. how pathetic. her hand slides under your painties. feeling your slick flesh. you bite back a moan, bucking into her hands.

“shhh shh shhh, quite baby.” a low voice whispered into your ear. how the fuck were you supposed to be quiet when her fingers were slipping into your drooling pussy? she starts out with one finger. slowly pushing it into your clenched hole. then she adds another. you try to hide the fact your dads best friend was inside of you but it was kinda hard. your hand flings up to ur mouth when she curls her fingers into u. your gaze turns back to your father who’s falling asleep in his chair. her eyes remain on the tv. never breaking and never looking at you. she knows what she’s doing and refuses to look at you. under the blanket her digits pump in and out of your hole. faster and faster. you wiggle around in your seat. Practically dripping. you whimper slightly. causing Abby to stop completely. she looks at you with a piercing stare, her eyebrow raised.

“m’ sorry.” you whine quietly. and with that her fingers return their unforgiving pace. you feel yourself at the brink of your orgasm. you bite down on the back of your hand holding back your whimpers and moans. you squirm in your seat as you cum on her fingers. her eyes still never leave the tv as your cum all over her. Her digits work you through your orgasm. you struggle to keep quiet. You calm down from your high. looking at your dad to see if he heard your sad attempt to stay silent. he’s passed out. you turn to Abby who has a shit eating grin plastered across her face. you punch her playfully, rolling your eyes before laying your head on her shoulder.

“whats happening in the movie?”

“I don’t know I haven’t been watching”

“yes you have?”

“you think I can keep focus on a dumb movie when you look so cute trying to be quiet from me?”

A/n: this sucks. ilyyy!!!

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men act when you have insomnia (can't sleep)

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Toge x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader (special thanks to @belovedvamp for that jaw-dropping gorgeous Megumi requests, like wow)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nightmares, angst to comfort in everyone, I would like to point out that Megumi is my favorite part and that I'm thinking about doing a Part 2, so if you're invested definetely let me know 😭not 100% proofread yet

Gojo Satoru

„Huh, why are you still awake babe? Aren’t you tired?”

Satoru takes in your gorgeous sight, how you lay curled up in your shared bed with your sleepy eyes darted towards him. God, why do you have to be so stunning, why does the selfish urge to keep you awake a little longer become almost unbearable for him when he knows exactly why you’re unable to sleep?

The mattress gives in under your boyfriend’s weight next to you, his hand gently caressing your head. You feel drunk, as if your body doesn’t function properly anymore. No wonder, after all you were awake for more than 30 hours by now, fighting and fighting to finally exorcise a bunch of special grade curses while Satoru was busy somewhere else.

But you’re scared to close your eyes again, to get confronted with the horrible things you’ve saw today. After each and every mission, your brain haunts you with awful nightmares, reminds you of all the death, all the injured, all the things you’ve lost.

No, you just can’t take it. You’d rather stay up a little longer in desperate hopes to be spared than risking to have another bad dream.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it”, you mumble into your heavy blanket, eyes drifting to the window.

It began to rain, heavy droplets pounding against the glass violently, thunder erupting in the dark sky. Carefully, Satoru lays down beside you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“I know you’re lying”, he mutters against your sensitive neck.

“Is it because of your nightmares?”

You turn around to face him in utter surprise. When did you ever told him about those nightmares? You always kept them to yourself, suffered through them on your own. After all, Satoru is a very busy man who shouldn’t have to worry about something like a bad dream. Yes, it seems pretty ridiculous to whine about your nightmares when the strongest of them all is the one you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine”, you lie into his face, gifting him a small smile to convince him.

But your eyes don’t lie. They show nothing but terror and dread, nothing but fatigue and alertness at the same time. Suddenly Satoru’s heart feels heavy. He should have realized it sooner, the way you always go to sleep after him when you were out on a mission. Why did it never cross his mind that all of this might be too much for you? Maybe because you’re so damn strong, maybe because you make it look so damn easy every time, carrying the weight of all those missions so that his students don’t suffer.

“It makes no sense to lie to me. Why didn’t you tell me about it, babe? I’m sure Shoko might be able to help you-“

“There’s nothing anyone could do about this”, you interrupt him immediately.

“Trust me, I tried everything out there. I guess this is just how my brain tries to cope with all those things, the people dying and stuff…”

“But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, remember? Why don’t you wake me up whenever you feel upset? Why do you go to sleep after I’m already passed out? (y/n), don’t do this to yourself.”

Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Oh, how much you hate that familiar feeling. That feeling of being useless, of being weak. Are you really too frail to even sleep after a mission? Why aren’t you able to handle the things you see like the others, like Kento and Satoru? All that training, all that power just to cry in your sleep over the things that happened hours ago.

Truly pathetic.

“Do you really think you’re alone? Especially in the beginning, Kento was plagued by nightmares each and every night so much that he couldn’t even fall asleep. Suguru and I…it is always rough, remembering the faces of those you weren’t able to save. But don’t let them keep you awake, don’t think you have to simply endure this. I’m here each and every night to hold you, okay? I’m here, you’re not alone (y/n).”

Oh Satoru.

Without thinking twice, you turn around and intertwine your body with his, desperately trying to keep your composure. How do you even deserve a man like him? A man who seems goofy most of the time but hast the softest side, a man who cares more about everyone around him than himself.

Your boyfriend, the strongest with a heart of pure gold.

“I hate when they haunt me in my sleep”, you finally give in, hiding your face against his warm chest.

“I know, babe. Trust me, we all do.”

Ever so gently, he strokes your hair and back, embraces you in his very own warmth. Satoru feels like home, like the perfection you are chasing each and every day. What would you even do without his loving arms as your home? Where would you be without his constant support? All those nights he stood by your side, watched a awful romantic movie so you’d feel good again. The countless times he cooked your favourite meal for you, only to throw it away and order food afterwards. All those times he rushed to your side when you got injured, how he always manages to be right by your side when you wake up. And oh, how tender is touch feels against your skin, how his warmth embraces you with every inch of his body. He feels so good, so comforting…

Satoru watches with a small smile as your lids grow heavy and finally close, your breath leaving your mouth evenly.

“As long as I’m the one holding you, no nightmare in the world will dare to wake you up, babe”, he breathes against your ear, holding you tightly in his arms throughout the whole night.

Inumaki Toge

You stare at the full moon blankly, mind racing. How are you supposed to get out of this alive? Are you even strong enough to lead your very own mission without someone by your side? This will be the first time you’ll be completely on your own. Without Maki, without Panda, without Toge…You trained hard these last months, you know what you’re capable of. But still…

Is it enough?

“Kelp.”

His tender voice rips you out of your poisonous thoughts immediately, glossy eyes shooting up to take in his sight. Why does he have to look so delicate with the moonlight highlighting his features? Why does his mouth have to be so damn captivating?

Why is it so easy to fall hopelessly in love with Toge Inumaki?

“Sorry, I thought y’all were asleep”, you explain visibly uncomfortably.

How embarrassing, getting caught by your crush while silently crying into the night about a damn mission. A silent yawning escapes your lips before you can stop it, tired eyes covered by a curtain of tears. God, you are so tired.

“Salmon roe.”

Before you even comprehend what’s happening, the white-haired boy takes his hand into yours gently, staring at you so intensely that you forget how to breathe for a moment. It’s like he wants to tell you that everything will be alright, that you have nothing to worry about.

“I don’t think I can do this alone, Toge. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this…”, you finally give in.

“Bonito flakes”, he immediately replies.

Without thinking twice, he takes out a small notepad and begins to write frantically. You know he always carries a writing block with him for time that require more than a few words, more than gestures are able to say.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you worked hard these last weeks. And you’re great! Just do as good as you always do, I’m counting on you, (y/n)! Please try to get some sleep now :)”

With every word you read your heart beats a little faster, with every word your grin grows a little wider. If he only knew how much his words truly mean to you…

“So you really think I can do it on my own?”, you question.

“Salmon!”

“Thank you, Toge”, you mutter touched.

You don’t know why, but suddenly your eyes start to burn in tears. Toge holds nothing but affection in his gaze, hand still resting on yours while squeezing it ever so slightly. He truly believes in you and your abilities, shows no doubt in your save return. Maybe…maybe you’re actually able to do this. Maybe you are indeed ready for your first solo mission.

Toge stands up again, signalling you with a gentle squeeze to stand up as well. You follow him through the dark hallways of Jujutsu High, right into the dorm you know so well.

“Tuna”, he whispers into the night before pressing you against his warm chest.

You feel as light as a feather, too stunned to speak by the way his arms feel wrapped around your body. He smells intoxicating, so good that you can’t help but sniff in and out. Is this really the first time Toge Inumaki hugged you for more than 10 seconds? It definitely is hard to let him go again.

“I believe in you, (y/n).”

Did he…Did he just speak?

“Toge…”, you breathe out, watching as his smile grows even wider.

With a last wave, he is gone in the darkness of the night, leaving you standing in the middle of your room on your own with your feelings scattered all over the place. Toge Inumaki just hugged you. No, Toge INumaki just spoke. He told you that he believes in you.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?”, you mumble to yourself.

Fushiguro Megumi

Your eyes snap open in an instant, ice cold sweat running down your face. Where are you? Is it over? You…

You breathe out. It was a nightmare. Again.

“Fuck”, you hiss to yourself while rubbing your aching head.

Why do you have to get haunted by these horrible nightmares, when will it finally stop? Even Gojo-sensei seems to be clueless about your condition, about what keeps you up each and every night.

But you know something that will help you to get through this night. Or rather someone.

Your bare feet stick to the wooden floor ever so slightly while you wander through the dark hallways on your way to his doorstep. Is he even awake? Maybe he won’t open the door at all.

Little do you know that Megumi sits in his bed with his eyes wide open, staring at the door knob in sheer excitement for your return into his arms. He knows it doesn’t mean much to you and at the beginning, it didn’t mean anything to him either. You just came into his room from time to time, searching for comfort in his hug to chase your nightmares away. And since you were friends, Megumi had nothing against stroking your head gently and wrapping his arms around you.

But something seems different now. Something about the sensation of you visiting him late at night sends shivers down his spine, your moonlit features let his heart hammer against his ribcage. It’s like he wants to hold you even closer, wants your breath to brush against his face. Why does it dawn to him how delicate your curves look and how soft your hair feels? There is no use in denying it, no sense in fighting against the obvious.

Megumi Fushiguro has fallen hopelessly in love with you.

The knocks against his wooden floor send him to his door straight away, opening it before you’re able to think twice.

“Oh, I didn’t knew you were still awake, Fushiguro”, you mutter into the darkness.

God, how much he hates the fact that you always call him by his last name. What would he give to hear his name out of your mouth once?

“What do you want here, (y/n)?”

His voice sounds harsher than anticipated while it takes all his strength to not swallow you in his arms immediately.

“I had a bad dream again…”

The vulnerable tone of your voice kills him from the inside. Without saying another word, he steps aside, allows you to enter his dorm without hesitation. You position yourself on the left side of his bed like you always do, hiding yourself in his already warm sheets. Without hesitation, he crawls back into his bed, inviting you into his arms with a long breath.

You smell as good as you always do. Why did it take him so long to realize that you smell absolutely intoxicating, that the mixture of your shampoo, body scent and perfume is addictive? Maybe he should tell you about the way he feels, finally confess how you make his heart beat out of his chest. But how would you react?

Would you…reject him? For all these years of knowing each other, you were never more than friends. Good buddies, pals, but not more than that. None of you ever crossed the line of plain cuddling each other to sleep. Not once did your lips brush over his, not once did your hands move further than his chest. Would you even love him back?

“Come on, you have to have a crush (y/n)! Is it Chris Pine, Tom Holland? Are you more into Korean guys?”, Nobara inquired over and over.

You just rolled your eyes with a playful grin, almost making Megumi fall out of his chair next to Yuji.

“I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m perfectly fine by myself”, you insisted.

“I like tall woman with a big ass”, Yuji interrupted out of nowhere, gaining a punch in his face by Nobara.

That was it, the first time he noticed something strange. The way his heart suddenly grew heavier than metal, sunk into his chest, took his breath away. He was hurt by your words. Megumi Fushiguro was hurt by the stinging fact that you didn’t say his name like he secretly hoped for, that your eyes didn’t even flinch towards him for the split of a second.

“Hey, are you alright? Why did you tense up like that?”, you mutter against his chest while drawing circles onto his t-shirt with your delicate fingertip.

“Oh, it’s nothing for you to worry about”, he lies into this tender night.

He presses you against his own body a little tighter, watches how your eyes grow heavy with every passing minute that you listen to his steady heartbeat. This shouldn’t mean more to him than comforting an old friend, it shouldn’t make his heart flutter and palms sweaty. But the soft snores leaving your mouth sound oh so lovely, the way your eyes move behind closed lids makes his heart skip a beat. You have to be the most precious creature on this earth, so valuable that he never wants to let you go again.

Until he has in the morning. Until you return back into his arms when nightmares keep you up another night.

Thank you so much for reading! Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul@chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly   @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @aeliusbbg

[talaok]

Hi🌻

Can you please write a pedro×reader where they are fighting really seriously and suddenly kisses the reader and things get spicy...

And if it's no bother can you please make it long

Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

Warnings: angst and allusion to smut

11:32 pm

Another day, and another night alone.

Something was playing on the tv, but you had stopped paying attention a while ago.

The streetlamp across the street felt more interesting than anything a screen had to offer.

The road was deserted, and the house across from yours had all the lights off,

It's a Friday night, they're probably out. You can almost picture them at that cute bar in town, holding each other's hands while talking about their respective days. 

It must be nice, to be a perfect couple, to have someone to go home to every day, to not wake up and go to sleep in an empty bed.

But there you were.

Yes, you knew what you had gotten yourself into, you knew about the long hours, the need to move every six months, the hectic lifestyle, you knew about all of it... but still, nothing could have ever prepared you for the loneliness that came with it.

And what angered you was that maybe it wouldn't have been that bad, if he only talked to you once in a while, a real talk, a conversation starting with a simple "how are you doing?"

So that you could tell him how you were really doing.

But no, every time you were together now, you either had sex or both of you were too tired to finally have that conversation.

It had been a whole month now of that god-awful routine, and you were sick of it.

Tonight you were gonna talk, whether he wanted to or not

A click sounded to your left as the door opened.

"Hi," he said more like a question, a clear hint of his confusion.

You were never awake when he got home.

"Hi" 

"what are you doing up?"

You stood from the couch, as he took off his jacket and tossed it on the hanger.

"I was waiting for you"

"yeah?" he smirked, his eyes glinting with a suggestive tint.

"We need to talk"

"oh" he breathed, clearly disappointed "about what?"

You were now in front of him, taking in the scruffy beard that had just recently gotten some streaks of white matching his hair. 

The evidence of the years passed could be seen all across his face, except his eyes, of course, the same big hazel ones you fell in love with.

"Scarily expressive" you had told him the first time you met, and never a day had gone by that you hadn't stood by it.

You were sure that he could stop talking any day and his eyes would do the rest without any problems whatsoever.

And now, now what they conveyed was tiredness, mixed with confusion.

"You're never home Pedro" 

there, plain and simple.

He sighed now, getting where this was heading, he could have acted clueless all he wanted, but he too, knew this conversation was long overdue.

"Y/n I'm tired, can we do this another time?"

"When?" you scoffed "We never see each other! It's like I live alone Pedro, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"Listen it's not my decision, I have to work" he muttered, walking to the bedroom and leaving you behind like a useless piece of trash.

"I know it's not, but do you even try? How long has it been since you've taken a day off? Hell, even a morning off?" You trailed behind him.

Once again: You were gonna talk today.

"What would you rather I do? Stop working?" he asked, condescending as ever, turning to face you as he took his shoes off.

"No! I'm just saying you could try a little harder to be home more often"

"I was home yesterday!"

"Yeah at 5:30 pm and you invited Mike over"

"what's wrong with Mike being here?"

"Nothing just- we never have a moment to ourselves anymore"

"Well I'm sorry if I want to see my friends too"

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't, just- God, you never listen to me!" you snapped, throwing your hands to your sides

"When was the last time that we had breakfast together? Or that we went on a date, huh?"

This time he stayed silent

"exactly" you sighed "We're supposed to spend time together Pedro, for fuck's sake we're a couple!"

"Once again y/n, I have to work"

"Are you kidding me!?" you closed your fists by your side as you shut your eyes trying to calm down "Pedro have you listened to a fucking word I sai-"

What the fuck?

His lips were on yours.

"what are you doing?"

"Did you know you're really hot when you're mad?" he smirked, holding your waist

"shut up. I'm trying to have a serious conversation"

"nobody's stopping you" he murmured sultry, his mouth founding your neck.

God, you hated the whimper leaving your mouth

"A-All I'm trying to say is that you could try to be home more o-often"

"Mh-mh" he hummed against your neck, his beard scratching it ever so deliciously.

"Y-you're not-" you let out a sigh as he began sucking the skin beneath your ear "You're not listening to me"

"I am. go on" he urged, biting at your earlobe and causing a gasp to your throat.

"fuck-Pedro..." you warned 

"What sweetheart?" 

"I know what you're doing, t-this is not going to work"

And at that, the bastard chuckled, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your core.

"Funny you say that, baby," a wicked grin pulled at his lips as your eyes met his "'cause I think it already has"

"No it hasn't"

"no?" he whispered "Then how do you explain this?" he asked as his fingers reached the wet patch on your panties.

"God you're really..." you gritted, a mixture of anger and arousal coursing through you.

"What angel?" he ghosted your mouth "What am I?"

"you're an asshole"

A huffed laugh fled his mouth "And yet, you're gonna let me fuck you"

You bit your lip, trying to clear your mind

"We're still gonna talk later"

"Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want"

... 

(I just proof-read this and I realized I might have interpreted the request kind of wrong. You meant an enemies to lovers kinda thing didn't you? If you did I'm genuinely sorry)

[immajustvibehere]

Spark (8/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Chapter 8 summary: Found and taken in by the Natives, Arthur is walking a fine line of living and dying. In the grip of illness and fever, he often imagines seeing you by his side.

This is a long chapter, so I gave it sub-headings. Easier to manage if you can't read it in one go :)

link to my masterlist

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven

7500 words, +30 minutes reading time

I. The Downfall of the Gang

A prevailing notion circulated in the gang that you and Molly shared culpability for the Pinkertons’ decent upon Lagras. They nearly razed the settlement to the ground, and the frustration about the new location of camp being found out so soon certainly didn’t help to improve the general mood. With you gone, there was no way you could justify yourself and nobody was keen on defending you either, though some people were convinced of your innocence either way. Notably, Abigail, though somewhat resenting you for having left, given Jack’s affinity for you and John’s confinement, was sure you wouldn't send the agency to shoot at them. Artur knew that you wouldn't do such a thing, as you had absolutely no reason to. Many people in the gang knew that it was way likelier that the Pinkertons picked up the trail from some of the boys coming back from Guarma, considering the gang was worth almost nothing without its leader anyway.

Dutch readily agreed that it must have been you, his main intention probably being to silence Micah, whose ceaseless prattle on the matter had grown unbearable. Micah spit phrases like: "She probably thought that she could get rid of us so we wouldn't go after her for the betrayal."

This went too far, even for Dutch’s taste, who was aware that they had other battles to fight. It was useless to hunt either you or Molly down and just a waste of resources and guns that were scare to begin with.

Arthur was distraught that you were gone. When he rode out with Charles, to search for a new camping spot up North, Charles handed Arthur the gun that he had borrowed you. The gesture resonated with a finality surpassing all preceding farewells…though there hadn’t even been proper good-byes.

"She uhm...she said anything? 'bout where she's headed?", Arthur asked as he let the gun slip into his saddle bag.

"I'm sorry", Charles shook his head, "She was a great help when we moved camp, but she disappeared soon after. She gave me the gun and told me to hand it back to you if I get the chance. You know, we weren't even sure if you had survived."

And the topic was left at that. The gang moved to Beaver's Hollow and Arthur felt a sickness nagging on his body. He started boiling with rage, every time your name was mentioned in a negative sense. Mostly by Dutch and Micah. Soon after, Bill started to complain about you too. Arthur would be lying if he told someone that he wasn't looking for you. It wasn't an active search, but whenever he was in town, he'd ask a few men at the bar if they had seen a woman of your description. Though the answers were barely trustworthy most of the time.

At the saloon in Annesburg, he spoke to a drunk man, who, as answer to your description mumbled a "fierce little creature" before he fell asleep on the table. This was the best lead Arthur had, and it wasn't nearly enough. He was roaming the country, avoiding collecting the debts, suffering under how sluggish his body was willing to comply to what he wanted it to do.

The first time Arthur was happy you had left, is when the doctor had told him, that he had tuberculosis. Until then, Arthur had mixed feelings. He appreciated that you left the gang to save yourself, because it took no genius to understand that whatever had bound the gang together was a thin thread that threatened to snap any moment. When he saw how Molly ended, however miserable he felt for her, he had been glad it wasn't you that had come back to die in the dirt. And still he had harboured feelings of resentment for you. Leaving without a word, without showing yourself ever again, when on that ride back from Guarma to Shady Bell he had hoped for you to be there, for some hug or any sort of gentle sign that would have soothed his aching soul and body. He realized soon that he was foolish to hope for that. And that Micah was right to accuse him of having become soft, if your gentle hands was all he could think of, despite your hands being mostly anything but gentle.

But as he sat outside camp, wheezing and wiping the blood off his lips that he had coughed up, he was glad you weren't here. Whatever urges he had to be comforted, to see something else but a bitter and angry face, the feelings of having failed and paying for his sins was the stronger force. He deserved it, after all. And he shouldn’t wish for comfort.  

-

He, as many others, tried to avoid camp as often as possible. In those two weeks, when the hostility between him and Dutch was especially high, because he and Sadie had rescued John from prison, he spent most of the days roaming the country and helping strangers. It wasn't that those trips took his mind off you, quite the contrary.

It was when he was out fishing with Hamish, a veteran with an impulsive horse, that he mentioned you for the first time to anyone that wasn't Charles or Mary-Beth (not counting Jack, who regularly asked where you where and why you had gone).

"Ya know. There's this girl...we went fishing a while ago and she couldn't deal with the waiting."

Hamish felt that it was dangerous territory, so he considered Arthur's pondering face for a while before he finally said: "You should take her here sometime. While we wait for the fish to bite, I can tell her stories so interesting, she' gonna hope that nothing bites."

Arthur chuckled sadly and shook his head: "She left, 'm afraid. She was right to do so. Ain't especially lucky to be around me."

As if the universe heard those words, Hamish was pulled into the water only moments after by the gigantic Pike they were after. It gave him and Arthur something to laugh in the aftermath.

-

"I'll draw them away from you! Go!", Arthur yelled, desperate pulling the reigns of his horse as John dismounted his.

"Come with me", John implored, "We can make it out of here!"

But Arthur understood he couldn't. The train heist only hours before and Abigail’s rescue had drained his strength. His body was tired, no, it was surrendering. He knew he couldn’t keep up the pace. His horse was his only support now, if he abandoned it, his legs would betray him. It wasn't just the tiredness of his limbs, he felt nauseous, sick, the sweat was on his forehead, causing his hat to cling uncomfortably.

"No. I pushed all I can”, Arthur’s voice was strained, “I'll buy ya some time, keep them off your back a while longer, you run and join Abigail and Jack."

"You're my brother!"

"I know", and with those words said, the brothers turned their backs to each other, John fleeing up the mountain, Arthur desperate circling the small area with his horse, firing round after round until he had shot himself a path of escape. The horse’s pained bucking under the impact of a bullet seared through Arthur’s heart, yet he urged it on. The loyal animal complied, carrying its master through thicket and woods as bullets whizzed past. Finally, it collapsed, half of its heavy body falling on Arthur who had ungraciously been thrown off.

The head of the horse was weirdly twisted, but Arthur still heard its heavy breaths. That aside, it was silent in the forest. Killing it would be the noble thing to do. But his vision was already blurred when his hands crept to his gun that was long out of bullets. And before he realized that it was silent in the forest and he had managed to shake the Pinkerton’s, Arthur closed his eyes, not being able to fight the exhaustion any longer.  

He was dead. Or dying, at least, because every time he gained consciousness, his whole body felt like it was on fire. With immense effort, he pried his eyes open, only to be greeted by a hazy image, his pounding headache blurring his surroundings. Arthur struggled against his own lethargy, he wanted to gain control of his body again. Neither of his limbs moved, no matter the effort he was putting into it. His eyes wouldn’t focus, his chest no rise enough for a proper breath. Every time however, without failure, weariness washed over him and unconsciousness reclaimed him before he could even form a thought about the state he was in. It was a cruel cycle.

When Arthur woke up for the third, maybe fourth time – there was no way of keeping count of those seconds of consciousness – he thought only one thing: Namely, that if that was dying, he hoped it would go a little quicker.

At some point, Arthur stirred awake. He felt stronger than before and finally had enough wits to take in some of his surroundings. It was nighttime, he perceived the nocturnal chorus of crickets. His attempt to open his eyes was met with a revelation, his vision, though fatigued, offered him a somewhat clear image. It was exhausting to look; he barely blinked a few times. He was in a tent, or something of that sort, he noticed. And it rocked around, like a boat or a waggon…or maybe he was just feeling dizzy. And when he managed to move his head just a little, to glared to the side, there were you. For a second, Arthur thought nothing. Then he concluded that he must be dreaming or was indeed dead and this was some funny way to pay for his sins. He closed his eyes. His arms felt too heavy, he wouldn't be able to rub his eyes or pinch his nose in concentration. But he simply opened them again. And the image of you was gone. So was Arthur's consciousness, a few moments later.

II. The Recovery

Over the next couple of days, Arthur would wake up from time to time. Sometimes seeing you, sometimes faces of women he didn't recognize. Dark skin and dark hair, Indians, he thought. Then he'd have nightmares that sometimes took his breath away and he'd wake up, feeling like a heavy weight was crushing his chest. And there would be someone - you, another woman, some strange man - pressing wet rags to his face and he wasn't strong enough to complain about it. To tell them to stop because it kept waking him up from dying, from sleeping, from unconsciousness. Whatever that black void was he'd fall in, but he much preferred it because then his body didn't hurt so much.

"You're going to be alright, mister."

Arthur opened his eye to look into the face of a dark-skinned woman. Braids falling from her head that was dangling right onto his face. There was the wet rag again, but it didn't feel so crushing this time.

Finally, his vision was…almost clear.

It was she who explained that he had collapsed and now was with Rains Fall’s people, as they were heading North to escape. The women that took care of him, Arthur caught glimpses of three different faces and though his headache was mostly gone, a persistent cloudiness lingered over his senses. Maybe it was because he sometimes seemed so confused or because he still lacked some control over when he fell asleep out of exhaustion, but when they talked to him, it was always very vague.

"Your friend will return soon. He's securing the perimeter, but he'll be back in a day or two", one of the women explained to him. They must mean Charles, he was certain. But when he wanted to ask, he found that it was hard forming words. His throat was parched and the attempt to speak yielded only a hoarse croak. A sympathetic smile from the woman conveyed understanding, at least.

….

You had sat at his side for four hours. It was late at night, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave his side. You had been running errands the last couple of days and had missed him waking up. Well, waking up without fever and therefore capable of forming thoughts. Tonight, he was restless, dreaming maybe.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and grabbed your wrist. His hand was clammy, still remnants of his sickness and probably his latest nightmare, but this time – for the first time ever – he was fully awake.

"It's okay, I'm right here", you reassured him.

Arthur simply stared at you like you were a ghost. Then his eyes narrowed to one of his signature contemptuous stares. It was a terrifying expression that you had seen a couple of times before. His nose would scrunch in disdain and his facial muscles were coiled with tension – a sign of irritation. In a firefight, it marked the precipice of drawing his gun; in a brawl, it forewarned of the impending launch of his first punch.

"Yer real" Arthur stated, his assertion hung in the air. His voice was low and quiet. It sounded like he needed something to drink, something to oil up his throat that has dried up from weeks of not using it.

"Unfortunately so, yeah", you said. Your heart sped up. He was awake. Finally. After all those days of not knowing if he'd make it, he was okay. Far from fit or fully recovered, but he wasn't dying no more. The thought made your eyes wet and forget about Arthur's sceptical glance.

Arthur blinked slowly. Those weren't dreams. They never had been. You had been there all this time.

Arthur closed his eyes again without saying something. His hand slipped from your wrist and onto his chest. He didn't want to talk, no, he didn't even want to see you right now. A swell of emotions came over him and he wasn't sure how to feel about your presence. For his inner turmoil, he kept silent on the outside, giving you the impression that he had dozed off again.

Eventually, he really fell asleep. Though when he awoke and pled for water before even opening his eyes, it was you who led a bowl to his lips. Whenever he woke up, you would be there, ready to jump at his commands. You didn't speak about why you were here or where you had been. Nothing of that matter. Nothing about Dutch or Micah or little Jack. It was always just handing him water or soup or helping him change his clothes.

Two days later, Charles showed up with a warm: "Welcome back, brother." It was he who explained what had happened. That two Indians had found him unconscious, buried under his horse. That his leg had been bruised from the impact, and he was weak, feverish and on the brink of death. It was an intricate matter, caring for him while heading North with the tribe and he admitted that only after one day with him under their care, Charles had seriously considered staying behind and caring for him. It had slowed down the group that much. Then they ran into you, simply sitting on your horse and watching the caravan of people go, before catching Charles' eye.

Arthur remained conflicted when Charles broached the topic of you. This inner struggle was not lost on Charles, keen observer that he has always been.

"She took good care of you. Without her, your recovery might have been in doubt."

And as this didn't seem to do the trick, he added…

"She sat with you every night. Washed you, made sure you had everything you needed. Even though Rains Fall disagreed, she stole a waggon so you had a comfortable place to get better.”

“She had left, Charles…”, Arthur croaked. You leaving the gang behind had left him with mixed feelings. He had worked through them before and had arrived at the conclusion that it was better for you, and still…seeing you here, healthy and restless, he regretted not having you there at the end. You could have been of great assistance. Could have prevented Abigail from being taken or made John’s prison break easier. Hell, he might have had more fun killing the last of the O’Driscoll’s if you had been by his side. The prospect of your sudden absence when he might have required your presence left a bitter aftertaste in his mind.  

“Don’t blame her for that. She had no obligation to stay, she was only with us for little more than a month at this time and she could tell that it was coming to an end”, Charles said.

Arthur thought what might have happened if you had been there at the stand-off. The notion of having another ally by his side, countering the overpowering presence of Bill, Javier, Micah and his two traitorous cronies, weighed heavily on his mind Yet, this reverie crumbled upon realization – there was the cruel possibility that instead of Miss Grimshaw, you would have found your demise. Or considering your proclivity for action over passivity, you might have opened fire earlier and would have caused an even worse outcome. Yes, maybe your absence had been the better.

“She rode hours through rain to fetch you a doctor”, Charles went on as he saw Arthur’s thoughts wander, “She found a nice man with a waggon. The doctor said he knew you and that you helped him one time in Rhodes.”

That put a little smile on Arthur’s lips, because he remembered the Doctor well. He was talking all funny and had had his waggon stolen. “Yeah”, Arthur answered as a sign of recognition.

Even Charles didn’t know what more to say, so he put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, before he left him alone.

The group had settled down near a creek. You had been on the move for a while now, and food supplies were running low, so they had decided to camp here for a couple of days, until hunting and gathering had provided enough resources to continue the travel. It was then that Arthur left his little nest that had been made for him. A simple waggon really, with some linen span across it to shield him from the weather. Sitting up was exhausting, but he managed to more or less crawl to the opening, sitting there and letting his legs dangle from the waggon. Everyone was working. The horses were grazing, a couple of kids were running around. It wasn’t difficult to spot you, chopping some wood and carrying it to the fire. That’s when you caught Arthur’s eye and approached him.

Seeing him out of “bed” put a big smile on your face.

“Why even bother?”, Arthur asked when you had reached him, jumping up the waggon to sit next to him. “Should’ve shot me when they found me. Tuberculosis can’t be healed, as far as I’ve heard.”

“Tuberculosis? What are you talking about?”, you looked at Arthur curiously. He stared back in silence, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's what I've got", Arthur explained, a little sceptical as if your gaze alone had made him unsure of the diagnosis.

"You don't have tuberculosis. At least, the doctor we consulted said so", a smile played on your lips. A knowledgeable smile, as if you knew more than him. It was a cheeky smile.  

Arthur didn't believe you.

"Y/n, I was on the brink of death when you found me. I cough up more blood than I ever lost through bullets…taking a deep breath was almost impossible.”

"How's it now though? The breathing...", you asked.

Arthur halted and for the first time since he had regained consciousness, he drew in a deep breath. Then another, and another. It was slightly uncomfortable, as though something was constricting his lungs and made it harder for him to let air in, but it didn't hurt. It was only after the fourth big breath that a slight cough stirred from within. But it didn't ripple his airpipe, bringing red fluid onto his lips. It almost tickled. It reminded him of the sensation of pressing upon a spot where a bruise had once been, recently faded. It wouldn’t hurt, but it would tickle, and the skin would be terribly sensitive.

"It's...okay I guess", Arthur concluded.

You smiled, satisfied: "You don't have TB. I mean...maybe you do, but Doctor said if you had, it wouldn't have shown so soon and with such vigour. But he did say you had the worst case of pneumonia he had ever seen. We weren't sure you'd make it. But now that you have pulled through the worse", you shrugged, "I'm afraid you'll have to see my ugly face still."

Arthur didn't know what to say. Was he relieved? Happy, even? He didn't know. He was just speechless.

"Doctor said that in case you recover, you'll have to rest a lot. He knew you, by the way. Black fella with a nice-looking waggon. Weird grinder thing on top. Had to help him fix a wheel when I brought him up here. He said you had helped him some time ago, fighting the people who had stolen his waggon. And then he said you wouldn't be fighting anyone for a while, even when you are back on your feet. You need to rest for months, fresh air,...and especially, seeing that you have lost about half your weight, lots of good food. No smoking, of course."

Arthur’s chuckle rippled through the air as he started to grasp the situation. “That’s quite the relief”, he murmured, chuckled lightly as he finally started to grasp the whole situation: “That’s good news.”

“What? That you look like skin and bones?”, you teased, bumping your shoulder into his.

“No. That I’ll get to see your ugly face for some time longer”, he bumped back, stronger than you had and almost knocking you into the edge of the waggon. You hadn’t been so relieved for a long time. You felt something thick in your throat and tears gathered at the corners of your eyes.

“Missed ya, ya know”, you said quickly before a sob could work its way up.

“I missed ya too”, Arthur looked at you. He noticed the wet eyes and scrunched his nose immediately: “You gone soft while I was out? You crying ‘cause of me?”

The teasing tone alone was so friendly and welcome, it cheered you up even more.

“You ain’t worth crying over, Mr. Morgan”, you lied.

“Damn right I’m not”, he said. He let his eyes roam around the camp again. It felt familiar. The image or Horseshoe Overlook came to him, but this was different, of course. Or was it?

“You hungry?”, you asked.

“Starving. If ya can offer something else but soup”, Arthur quickly added. He only had eaten soup the last days. It was the only meal which didn’t require chewing and wouldn’t immediately choke him in his half-conscious state. This time, you brought him a small portion of stew. Not comparable to the stew Mr. Pearson had cooked. The small pieces of meat that you had granted him in his portion were as soft as they possibly could be, almost melting in his mouth.

“Slow down, god damn it”, you warned him.

“Yes, ma’am”, Arthur quietly mumbled. It was hard to slow down, but he knew he had to, since this was the first time he ate properly in – he later was being told – 13 days.

In the evening, you approached him again. Arthur was lying in his bed, half-recumbent with his journal on his lap. It was closed, Arthur was merely thinking. He had flipped through some entries before, but now he enjoyed being idle and watching everyone getting ready for the night.

“Arthur”, you knocked at the wood before appearing in his field of vision, “got something for you. I almost forgot, I had it stored away.”

You climbed on the waggon and put down a gunnysack. You carefully spilled its contents onto the floor. Arthur recognizes the round glass with the flower first. Then the picture of his mother. The picture of him and Mary. The shot of his father, though big chunks of the little picture were charcoaled and burnt, he only recognized it because he had looked at it so often. Two shirts, one pair of pants and an old belt that he hadn’t used in a while.

“That’s all that was really left, I’m afraid”, you said. He didn’t need to ask, he understood. You had gone back to where they had last camped and had rummaged through what was left after the fire to store it for him.

“Why did you…?”, Arthur started, picking up the picture of his mother.

“I…don’t know. I never had many belongings to my name, but those I had, meant much to me. Figured you feel the same”, you shrugged. Then a cheeky smile appeared on your lips: “Thought it would be nice to bury you with them if you didn’t make it.”

Arthur clicked his tongue. “It was stupid to go there. Might have been dangerous.”

“Felt worth it for me, I guess”, you said.

After a pause, Arthur thanked you. You wished him a good night at let him be. As soon as your frame vanished from the little field of view that the open canvas space granted him, he opened his journal again. He pulled out Mary’s last letter to him. Not reading the neatly written words again, he simply turned the envelope upside down, until the ring fell into his hand.

…

It took two more days before Arthur was strong enough to walk around and be on his feet for more than ten minutes at a time. But he felt fine enough to take a bath in the creek and shave. It was shocking to see his cheeks that have sunken quite a bit due to the weight loss, but Arthur’s appetite was as good as ever, so you didn’t worry about it too much.

Most of the day he spent by sitting in the shade and observing the people. Mostly you, if he was being honest. You played with the kids, helped wherever another hand was needed.

He was trying to get up from his little patch under a tree when Rains Fall approached him. Arthur hadn’t encountered him yet, he had been busy with arranging and managing the move. The last time Arthur had seen him, he had delivered him his dying son.

“How are you, Mr. Morgan?”, Rains Fall’s voice was as gentle as ever.

“Feeling much better now. I can’t thank you enough for taking me in”, Arthur said.

“After all you have done for us, it is I who must thank you”, Rain Falls smiled slightly. Silence ensued between the two men before Rains Fall spoke again, “I recall our conversation when you were my company on the ride up the mountain. You said that some people in your gang still had a chance for a good live and that you wanted to give them that.”

“Yeah”, Arthur said, his eyes fixed on you. You were brushing some horse in the distance.

“What’s with her?”, Rains Fall asked, following Arthur’s gaze, “I heard she took excellent care of you. Charles told me she’s a fierce spirit when cornered, but she seems tame and gentle. I can see that you care for her deeply too.”

“Suppose I do”, Arthur answered, “I’m not sure if that’s what she wants.”

“There are always some uncertainties in life, don’t waste too much thought on those that can be resolved with one simple question”, the chief answered. Arthur nodded, as if he understood, though he wasn’t so sure how much of the situation he had actually grasped. The ring that Arthur had picked out of the letter was in his pocket, and he felt it, when Rains Fall spoke those words. When nothing more was said on that matter, Rains Falls sighed: “Tomorrow, we’ll be on the move again. We haven’t covered much ground yet, but I’m certain we’ll make it.”

It was a statement that needed no comment and Arthur watched as the old man walked away.

-

The group barely covered ten miles a day. It was a good pace, nevertheless, for Arthur was on his feet again and tried to make himself useful. He tended to the horses, seeing they are well cared for and rested for the journey. All this time, you were pretty much at his side non-stop.

“You used to say ya don’t need me to do babysitting…but now yer the one watching me like I’m gonna do something stupid the second you lay your eyes off me”, Arthur teased.

“I don’t trust you to do no heavy lifting”, you said with a smile. It was a good opportunity to be close to him and help.

All of a sudden, you had started sleeping in the same waggon as he. Because the one you had used was “needed otherwise”. You sat next to him at night, watching him draw in his journal and often fell asleep way before him. Arthur was unsure if this was a sign that everything was like before, that you still liked him, but he was glad about the closeness again. The second night, he held you. The third night, you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest.

-

“I’m going to leave”, you said. You sat next to Arthur and watched his pencil strokes. They had been shading the horse he had just sketched. The pencil halted and Arthur looked at you.

“What?”

“Day after tomorrow, I’m leaving. I want to head south again. Then west, maybe”, you looked Arthur in the eye. His blue eyes which were warmly illuminated by the oil lamp in the waggon darted around your face. You weren’t teasing or joking, he could tell as much.

“You know I’m not someone who sticks with a group. If this thing goes bad, I’ll feel like I’m responsible”, you offered further explanation.

“Yer gonna head out there alone?”, Arthur asked, his voice strained.

“Was hoping you’d join me, actually”, you swallowed. You had dragged the question out for a while now. You knew that Arthur needed to be somewhat recovered if he was to travel with you, so you had had a good excuse for not asking for a long while. But the last couple of days the anxiety had been eating you from the inside.

Arthur didn’t answer. He watched you; you watched your own hands. As he remained silent, you unwillingly lifted your head to look at him. This was all that Arthur needed. His hand found your chin and lifted it even more, turning it towards him. In the blink of an eye, your lips met. Arthur tasted the tobacco on your lips and figured he missed smoking. Or at least, he missed sharing a cigarette with you.

“I thought you might not like me no more”, Arthur said as the kiss had ended. Both of your faces remained so close, your foreheads touched, and Arthur only needed to whisper the words to make you understand.

“Well, there’s always been lot of nonsense in your brain”, you grinned. You were relieved, because frankly, you had feared the same.

You kissed him again before asking: “Can I take that as a yes?”

“You better”, Arthur breathed, now snaking his hands around you and pulling you into yet another kiss.

III. The Life After

The parting with the Rains Fall and his people unfolded smoothly. Farewells were exchanged without any pressure of time and in good spirits. Charles and Arthur, in particular, enjoyed a more extended exchange of goodbyes compared to their previous parting. Both could go smiling, knowing that the other one would be fine.

Arthur got a spare horse, a young, not entirely tamed one, though Arthur was more than capable of handling it. Your travels back South progressed fast. It took a toll on Arthur, traveling on horseback after he had only been on his feet for a week, but you took care of that with long breaks and early nights. Sometimes, you’d rest for an entire day, also giving the horses some time to recover. You’d take care of food in a nearby town or go hunting, while Arthur watched the little possessions you travelled with. By the time you reached Ambarino, the leaves on the trees had assumed hues of red and brown and the nights were getting colder.

“Shouldn’t we head West?”, Arthur halted his horse. You had just crossed the Grizzlies and had travelled along the Dakota River for a while, before you stirred your horse East. The air was fresh, and Arthur was wrapped in a coat you had bought in a town before crossing the Grizzlies. The sun was still strong enough that the buttons could remain open, but sometimes a strong gush of wind would send a shiver through your spine and remind you that winter would be here soon.

“We can’t continue traveling”, you said. Arthur was exhausted, and so were you.

“So, what do you suggest?”, Arthur rode next to you, stirring his horse into a slow trod next to yours.

“I know a place where we can lay low for the winter”, you said, not explaining further, even though you felt Arthur’s curious gaze. Only when you arrived at O’Creagh’s Run later that day and headed so decidedly for Hamish Sinclair’s cabin, Arthur understood.

“That’s where you wanna live?”, he asked amusedly.

“Nice man lives there. I’m sure he’ll let us stay with him for a while”, you explained. Arthur smiled, but didn’t want to spoil that he knew the old veteran. Hamish was already outside doing repairs on his little boat when he saw you approach.

“Ain’t that a nice surprise!”, Hamish raised his arms, “A visit by two friends at once!”

Now it was your turn to be surprised: “You know each other?!”

“Of course. Arthur Morgan!”, Hamish shook the hand of Arthur as soon as he had dismounted, “You’ve lost some weight my friend, but you look as fine as ever.”

Over hot coffee, Hamish was filled in on the happenings of the last month. When you asked to stay at his place for a while, Hamish was delighted. Almost immediately, you started to build another bed, because it was agreed upon that Arthur would need something more comfortable to sleep on. You would be fine with the floor in front of the fireplace for now and Hamish would continue to sleep in his bed.

It worked remarkably well. The three of you were rather quiet and when something needed to be done, it was done sooner rather than later. Arthur fished most of the time, you were out hunting with Hamish. Hamish would teach you to cook some meals, because, as he put it “A man that has lived alone for such a long time, knows his cooking spoon”, and you’d run errands in town, if something needed to be fetched. The fall of the Van der Linde Gang was still comparably recent, so the posters were still all about and to risk Arthur being seen, wasn’t a risk anyone was willing to take.

As idyllic as most of the days passed, one would think that there weren’t any struggles or that you spent your days hunting and selling pelts. But you would have never been able to sell enough pelts to support three adults, so sometimes, you’d go out and rob a stage or some rich looking traveller. You told Arthur but kept quiet in front of Hamish.

The days became shorter and the chill of winter settled in, Arthur’s recovery progressed steadily. He started to put on some more weight and longer walks or chopping wood didn’t leave him struggling for air any longer. Hamish would sometimes go out for a whole day, granting the two of you precious moments of solitude and intimacy.

In December, Hamish announced he’d be gone for a few days, visiting a cousin in Valentine. He’d be back for Christmas Day, he promised. Arthur and you considered the possibility that Hamish’ cousin was a fabrication, a ruse to give the two of you some more time alone. Nevertheless, you appreciated the gesture wholeheartedly.

Snow had fallen and the fireplace had been ceaselessly crackling in the past few days. So, the hut remained comfortably warm. In Hamish’ absence, you shared Arthur’s bed. Nestled against his chest, you traced circles through the dark patch of hair just below his navel. The only sounds to be heard were the steady crackling of the fire and the hoot of an owl nestled in a nearby tree.

“Ya mean a lot to me, y/n”, Arthur’s words slipped out so unexpectedly that you sat up and looked at him with surprise and suspicion. You were well aware of his feelings. After all, he had demonstrated as much just half an hour ago, in that very bed.

“Yer talking strange”, you remarked and raised an eyebrow.

“I love you”, Arthur said, his tone carrying an unusual weight.

“And…I love you too”, you replied slowly. This wasn’t the first time you had said that to each other, but the manner in which Arthur said it felt different. Arthur gave you a look that was so full of uncertainty and self-depreciation for himself, you lightly slapped him on his bare shoulder.

“What is going on? Did I do something wrong?”, you asked. You even raised the blanket to check if this was a new sort of foreplay that he was trying because he was ready for the second round. It was also an attempt to lift the mood, because the tension of the situation started to prickle your skin.

“Ain’t nothing wrong. I just gotta ask ya something and it ain’t easy”, Arthur complained. sitting up straight.

“Yes. I’m sorry Arthur, but the Gingerbread you baked yesterday is inedible”, you joked. You and Arthur had tried to make some gingerbread yesterday and because you hadn’t felt like baking, he had taken control of the matter. The result was…lacking, to say the least. You had lied that it looked and tasted alright, but you had been sure that by the disgusted face you had made it was clear that it had to disappear before Hamish came back and threw them out for dishonouring his kitchen.

“That’s not it and…”, Arthur looked at you funny, “It wasn’t that bad.” You smiled at him sympathetically.

“I just…god damn it, woman”, Arthur rearranged his sitting position. The he got up and slipped into his pants and shirt. He was somewhat angry, irritated maybe. Or nervous? You watched him confused.

Arthur was still fastening his pants when his voice, low and hesitant, reached your ears: “I just wanted you to know that I love ya…”

You nodded as if it was silly to suggest otherwise. With Arthur’s warmth now absent from your side, your body was cooling down and you pulled the blanked further up. And then Arthur caught you completely off guard because he knelt down besides the bed. His fingers swiftly plunged into his pockets and retrieved a ring.

“I was wondering if ya might wanna marry me”, Arthur voice was firm. He didn’t want to give the impression that he was in any doubt that he wants to spend the rest of the time with you. He was fully aware that he wasn’t the youngest anymore and that the sickness had marked him significantly. Since recovering, he had gained back most of the weight, yet ther were times when his muscles reminded him of their limitations, failing him when he attempted tasks that were once effortless.

You stared at him in disbelief, a thousand thoughts running through your head. When Arthur opened his mouth again, you were afraid that you had taken too long to answer.

“I thought it was too late for me to marry someone. I’m old. And unlovable, mostly”, Arthur chuckled warmly, “If two people ain’t too big of a group for you…” Arthur added mumbling ‘maybe three or four at some point’ before continuing, “I’d want ya to know that I plan to stick with you. Yer still young, so I understand if yer don’t want to-“

“Yes.”

Arthur shut up at looked at you. Was that a yes to “not wanting to marry”? Arthur looked like a kicked puppy for a moment, before you cleared his confusion: “Yes, I want to marry you, you dumbass.”

The ring slipped on seamlessly. The Arthur picked you up, naked as you were and hugged you lovingly. You squealed because of the cold air.  

“Are we telling Hamish?”

Arthur mumbled the response into the crook of your neck which he was peppering with kisses: “If ya want. That enough of a Christmas present for him?”

You hit Arthur’s back: “Hell no! The man lets us live in his home. I was thinking about getting him a new rifle.”

Arthur set you down and you gathered your clothes, putting them on slowly, as Arthur was taking his time admiring you.

“Put some money back”, you grinned mischievously, “It was also meant for buying you a present. But I suppose that being my husband is good enough.”

“Oh you!”, Arthur growled and scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder. For all the strength he had lost, he was still strong enough to do that. Barefooted, Arthur stamped out of the cabin. “Give me one reason to not throw you into the lake!”, he teased and approached the jetty. It wasn’t frozen yet entirely, but the water was icy cold and black.

“I’m your wife!”

“Not yet you ain’t!”, Arthur made a motion that made you shriek, but he only feinted to throw you in, “besides, that is no valid reason.”

“I’ll kill you, if you do!”, now you tried to break free, but Arthur’s grip was firm.

“Ohh. That’s more like it. Though I think you love me too much for that.”

“Many wives kill their husbands!”, you screamed.

“I could drown ya first, ya know”, Arthur teased and swirled around, so you faced the black water.

“You’ll never find out where I stashed the money and won’t afford a present for Hamish!”, you finally said.

“That’s true”, with that, Arthur let you down. As soon as your bare feet touched the snow, you darted inside, shivering violently in front of the fireplace.

Arthur soon followed, having more of a quieter complexion. He closed the door behind him, and the warm and loving atmosphere of the cabin was restored. In many ways, Arthur saw you as an equal. You were just as good as a shot as he was, just as fast when it came to running or riding. There was no need to escape his old live, because you were an outlaw just like him. You didn’t mind if life meant running away from the law. He didn’t need to tread lightly with you. You could take criticism; a discussion or whatever life threw at you. And yet, he found your movements graceful, gentle. Most of the time, at least. Arthur smiled at the thought. When your opponent was a bigger man and it would come to close ranged fighting, you became sloppy and angry, but with a gun you were the definition of accuracy and grace.

“Hello?”, you looked at Arthur wit tilted head, drawing his attention back from his reverie, “Where have you wandered off to?” His daydreams had lasted so long, he had barely noticed that you had dressed yourself.

“Jus’ dreamin’ about my future wife, ‘s all”, Arthur grinned sheepishly. He extended his arms invitingly, and you moved closer, nestling into his embrace.  

“Don’t start expecting things I’m not capable”, you said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know?! Maybe I want my husband to be capable of baking proper gingerbread for Christmas and then you come along and-“, Arthur interrupted you by poking you into the side and making you squeal.

“You do it better then!”, he challenged.

“I suppose I will!”, you grinned back, heading for the little stove, “I bet mine are at least two times more…edible than your sorry experiment.”

“What are we betting? A kiss, Mrs. Morgan?”, Arthur said slimily, his arms crossed and watching you. The name made you feel warm and happy. For all the times you’d been mistaken as a Bell, you like that name way more. But for old time’s sake, you turned around and looked at the man you love.

“Your life, Morgan!”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @xclovers @photo1030 @cowboydisaster @stilinskiwitch @globetrotter28 @unbotheredbeeeee @eyelovie @ashjbu @lovrgirlsstuff @how-the-heck-would-i-know @j4llyf7sh @urfavjanalein @thatonestrangebird @nirvanaaaonly

[cliophilyra]

OMG why didn't I see you're doing this too? Ah, can I still send prompts? If so: (and you don't have to do them all of course but if you're in the mood...)

9, 15, 30, 50 for SalTommy, and you can have a million more if you like!

Hello! Thank you so much for these! First one done. Hopefully more to follow ❤️

Kiss prompt 9: In public...

The captain is panicking. He can hear it in his voice. The latest in their long line of useless, checked out, burned out, soon-to-be-retirees is in over his head. Which is a problem because this empty warehouse is huge and it's well on its way to being fully involved. A crowd the size of a small town has gathered at the side of the site, watching and filming on their phones.

They've only been fighting it for twenty minutes and it's out of control. Sal keeps listening out for the captain to call for back up but he doesn't hear a word on the radio.

Sal turns to Tommy. "Fuck this," he yells. "I'm gonna smack some sense into him—"

"Sal—" Tommy begins.

"—not literally, don't worry," Sal grins and turns away, jogging back to where the captain is nervously watching them work.

"We need more back-up!" Sal shouts over the roar of fire and water.

"It's ok, I can handle—"

"No we can't. This should be four alarm by now for fucks sake," Sal grabs the captains radio and thrusts against his chest. "Get on the fucking radio."

The captain's face darkens, he opens his mouth, raising a hand to point Sal's way off the site. That's when the wall blows out.

Sal feels the pressure wave hit him in the back, throwing him forward against the captain and he feels terror like nothing he has ever experienced on any call. He shoves the man aside as he turns. Somehow he already knows what he'll see.

Flames and smoke are pouring out of the jagged hole in the brick, right where he and Tommy had been, most of the team are struggling to their feet among the rubble but one person is lying flat on their back, not moving. It's Tommy.

Sal runs. He hears someone yelling and he thinks it might be him. It's like moving through syrup. Smoke billows like clouds, obscuring Tommy for a moment. Sal calls his name, voice cracking. Time stretches out. Then the smoke clears and like the sun coming out, Tommy is sitting up, coughing and holding his head. Sal crashes to his knees in front of him, cupping his face in shaking hands and kissing him, desperate and greedy, all teeth and tongue and panic.

"Baby," he breathes against Tommy's lips, resting their foreheads together. He tastes salt, it could be his tears or the blood which is streaming down Tommy's face from the shallow cuts in his forehead. Tommy smiles at Sal, looking a little dazed, almost confused by the state of him. Sal kisses him again, hauling him carefully to his feet as the onlookers cheer and hold up their phones.

This was not how he planned to come out to the team - or the world - and he's almost certainly getting suspended if they get through this night, but he can't bring himself to care as he kisses Tommy again and walks him towards the RA unit as the sirens of back up approaching wail in the distance.

[crushedsweets]

ANSWERING ASKS PT 4?

ok this is like 30+ asks LOL its mostly stuff about me/my art with a little crp sprinkled in im sorry... ill make a post thats actually answering the crp asks with real answers that arent "ILL DO IT EVENTUALLY I SWEAR" lololol

YOURE BOTH SO SWEET i havent been this passionate about smth in so long so hopefully im here for a while... thank u guys for indulging me. it makes me happy to post LOL

with love pls dont call me that buuuut. ninakate. ticciwork. ninatoby. ticcijack. ninajack. notice how its all in the same group...

hiii i dont plan to anytime soon! IF I WERE TO, cody and rouge are probably 'next in line' to being put in my AU, but i have no plans to actually commit to that

omg ok its funny cuz rn i HAVE ONE but its just me in it cuz im too lazy to organize all the bots and verification and whatnot. im also nervous about making a server cuz of some online occurrences that happened after u sent this HAHA so i'm kinda putting it off... but i reblogged tombs server and im sometimes active in there if u wanna join that one!

ffrhrughagahhhh

no ur right theyre such a power couple. i know we joke about toby being useless bf and clocky being badass gf but they're both really cool together.

I FORGOT I MADE THE TWILIGHT COMMENT LMFAAAOOOOOO I NEED i need. i need toby to find a random twilight shirt at a thrift and snag it for kate.

ME TOOOO its so delightful. i have so much fun playing with them like barbies.. making them kiss n whatever. LMFAOOOO so silly but yk

JEFF STANS ARE SO FUNNYYYYYYYYY i like you guys. laughing jack stans scare me but thats cuz that damn clown scares me... nothing that yall have done. youre just braver than me. LOL

i will not do this...

no literally its really bad. i hold horrible grudges BAHAHA but im working on it. im getting over my purple beef

omg. i listened to it and that was really cool. i like that thank u sm for sharing

IDK WHAT POST UR REFERING TO BUT YOURE RIGHT. LMAOOOOO

IM SORRYYYY im so sorry. i feel like this fandom is so small and most of the fans dont really ship in general so it suuuucks shipping here.. but i love them..

oh my god i need to i keep forgetting. the nina art i jus tposted of her holding th eknife was kinda.. kinda referencing her behaviors..

i do too!!! ive been neglecting them so bad im so sorry..

like the IEPFB tea party scene

I NEVER DID IT ANON IM SO SORRY IM GOING TO HELL

is this a song

i have not! i havent read alot of stories actually... i kinda like doing my own thing with them HAHA

omfg i had a clocknina drawing but i ended up privating but i think i should unprivate it...

ok actually im sorry i just am bad at requests omfg LMFAOO IM SORRY im so focused on nina ... forgive me...

THANK YOUUUU youre very sweet i appreciate you!!! <3

YEAH he's...one of the more tragic people. 100%. all loss

WHAT IS LIUJONJACK LOL WHOS JON??? ALSO LIUOTPS IS FUNNY

wdym ? !

LMFAOOOOO HEY ITS NOT A BAD COMBO THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING A NINAKATE SHIPPER........

THANK YOU CUPCAKE i really like nina.. or my version i gues si dunno.. i like everyone else's nina too. i like this nina we got going on together

ok i keep grouping these together but also making them seperate im so bad at organizing these asks but HAHA I LOVE THEM TOO i swear ill try to get some ticciwork stuff out soon!!! my spring semester is almost over so hopefullyyy..

this is how you know i suck ass cuz this was christmas time and im replying NOW. im so sorry. i initially planned to draw them hanging around a tree but i didnt get around to it then got embarassed and never replied.... but i agree it would have been cute. ha di notfailed. LOL

[onboardsorasora]

Enchanted AU: Part 30

*peeks out from behind a wall* Heeeyyyy Guys😅. I've been sitting on that twist since before Christmas.... just so you know lmao.

Part 1 | Last Chapter

Daniel collected Sassy to his chest and shuffled out of the bedroom in an almost frenzy, no one was up yet so he went and sat on the daybed. He shivered at the breeze but paid it no mind as Jimmy came to greet them.

Daniel stared at him intently as if willing Jimmy's voice to pop back up in his head. It didn't happen of course. Nothing happened.

Daniel made a wounded noise and took a deep breath. Mostly to stave off the panic he was feeling. It worked. Holy crap, it worked. 

Oh no.

“I'm normal.” He breathed out, his body shivered again in the breeze and Daniel just felt numb. He looked at the cats again and felt his lips pull into a frown, already missing the chatter of their voices in his head. The chatter of the birds that flew by periodically, the dog that lived a floor down and the lizard from two floors up.

He felt empty, already regretting his decision borne from anguish. He was born special, meant to be special. Even if it ruined his life. That was his burden to bear, to stay out of people's way. Not mess with their lives.

He shouldn't have enchanted himself because now what?

“Daniel?” 

Daniel's head snapped up to see Max walking rapidly out to the patio. He looked nervous, worried.

“Daniel– are you ok? Is everything alright?” Max stopped himself from reaching out fully to grab him. He quickly looked him up and down, he wasn't glowing anymore and he didn't look any worse for wear either. No tails that Max could see.

“Max. Im- ok.” Daniel dipped his head into Sassy's neck.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fine Max. I'm perfectly normal!” Daniel all but snapped. He clutched Sassy tightly to his chest and clenched his eyes shut. Daniel let out a shuddering breath.

“Daniel?” Max touched Daniel's shoulder softly and Daniel sobbed. “Daniel? What's going on?!” Max was panicked now.

“Max? Max what's happeni– Daniel!” Michelle came running out of the room, looking over Daniel frantically. “Danny what did you do?” She asked softly, scared.

“Chelle.” Daniel sobbed, throwing himself in her arms, they stumbled backwards together.

“Max what's going on?” Grace hung back by the door, watching it all with wide eyes.

‘I– I'm not sure. He- he said he's normal?” Max repeated unsurely. 

“Oh.” Grace gasped softly.

“What– what does that mean?” Max swung to look at Grace before looking back at Michelle who was staring at Daniel crying in her arms with an almost pitying expression.

“He doesn’t have magic anymore.” Michelle stared at the still rose stark against Daniel's clenching wrist. It sat unmoving but for the tendons beneath it.

“Wha– how?” Max jolted, he felt like the world shattered around him. No one answered him.

Max felt like the next few hours happened while he was underwater. Daniel allowed himself to be fussed over by his mother and sister. He stared into space most of the time. Max felt completely out of his depth. He didn't know what to do, how to help. He didn't know how to fix this.

He didn't know if this could even be fixed.

Daniel ate because his mother told him he needed to. He showered because Michelle told him to. He felt useless. What purpose did he have now that he wasn't useful to anyone?

He laid on his mother's lap in his bed, staring into space while she stroked his curls. He needed time to get used to this new normal.

Max sat across the breakfast nook from Michelle. She was spinning her coffee mug listlessly on the table. The drag of the ceramic across the wood was the only sound between them for a while. She sighed but didn't say anything.

“How bad is it?” Max dared to ask.

“He cursed himself. I think.” She murmured and began drumming her fingers against the ceramic. A trait she shared with Daniel.

“Can we fix it?” 

The way Michelle looked at him reminded Max of predators. Her brown eyes were piercing, almost glowing honey.

“You can.” She hooked her chin in her upturned palm, tapping her middle finger against her cheek. “You can.” She nodded confidently and Max felt the moment his face scrunched in confusion.

“That's not very helpful.” Max complained, leaning back against his chair with a groan.

“I know, I'm sorry. It just– it doesn't work like that.” She apologized and sipped her tea. 

“You have magic too.” Max said it like a confirmation, rather than a question. Michelle didn't deny it. 

“How?” He asked again.

“It's…” She paused. “It's more intuition than anything. I can see your intentions– I can't like read your mind or anything but I can…tell.” She sighed, clearly never really needing to explain her own innate abilities before.

“That's how you protect him. Of course.” The reality made sense, filled in more than a few gaps. She nodded.

“Ok, so…how? How can I fix this?”

She sipped her tea quietly, staring unseeingly at the table between them.

“True love’s kiss.” She whispered.

“What?”

“It's– it sounds weird I know.”

Max rolled his eyes, as if the last few months hadn't already been weird.

“But it's a curse breaker. The most powerful thing in the world or whatever.”

“You're gonna have to give me more than that, I think.” 

She looked at him for a long moment as if weighing the pros and cons.

“Ok, I'm literally only going to say this once. I- I can't like–” she shook her head. “You love my brother, right? You're in love with him?” 

Max nodded, not wanting to say it aloud again until he was able to say it to Daniel directly.

“He loves you– so much.” She smiled a small upturn of her lips. A far cry from a proper Ricciardo grin. “He needs to know– that you feel that way. He needs to believe you. Before you kiss. Or else it won't work.”

Max ran his hand through his hair as he thought. It sounded easy, too easy. But if video games taught him anything, it was that deceptively simple quests normally were difficult as hell. He thought about the tear tracks on Daniel’s face, the crushed look in his eyes.

“He’s not gonna believe me.” He breathed out, looking over at Michelle who smiled sadly. “I’m going to have to make him, of course. Prove to him.” He was speaking to himself more so than her, but her slight nod was comforting.

He loved Daniel. He knew he did. And he wanted Daniel to stay with him. Confessing to him would have been the plan of action regardless, only now he knew that Daniel loved him back. He could do this. He had to, because he loved Daniel– all of him.

Next Chapter

[talisidekick]

At some point I let myself slip. I hit my peak before I graduated college. It's been downhill from there. I got an associates degree in computer programming but failed to use it, failed every interview. It's been 8 years since, I think I've forgotten most of it. Yet the 40k CAD loan to get it remains. 40k for a piece of paper that every employer finds useless, and now it doesn't even say my name on it. Worse still, what I was taught doesn't even translate in the industry in my area that well. Employers want C and C++. Two languages I don't know that well because academia didn't teach them.

I was an impressive writer in university before I dropped out. I've read my own papers and my current writing quality has dropped.

I've got no art skill. Not sure why I'm trying.

I was, at one point, a pretty decent gamer. Not now. Once again, my quality of play has dropped.

I was a pretty decent martial artist when I was younger. Not now. My muscle mass has suffered greatly and I'm out of practice.

It kind of feels like everything I prided myself in ... I just couldn't keep up. Now I'm sitting here at 30 wondering where the fuck I went wrong. And I kind of know where. I was hiding in skills, running from the darker things behind me. I wasn't being myself. All I achieved wasn't because they were things I wanted to do. I had to do them. Where I went 'wrong' was I figured myself out.

And now I'm sitting here in a life of half skills. Half skilled at gaming. Half skilled at programming. Half skilled at martial arts. Shit skill at art (only just started). And I don't know where to go. What to do. 30 years to end up at square one on the board of life with the debts and problems of someone half way through. I want to be worth something, have some skill worth noting, and I tried but here I am mediocre at everything. Unremarkable. All my friends have skills they can be proud of: programming, accounting, piloting, artistry. I got ... nothing.

People talk about being neurodivergent and having a special skill or special interest. What's mine? I got ADHD, OCD, Autistic and ... fuck all to show for it. Worse still, I'm unemployed and have been for almost six months. Resume's sent out and silence back.

I'm not doing so great. I have to figure something out. I want to live this life. I have goals: FFS, GCS, look cute, be happy. I'm just stuck not knowing how to start. Where to start. I just know I need to start now.

This blog might go silent for a bit. I ... guess I have a life to rebuild. To make ... mine.

[zankaboo]

There must be something about my personality that repulses people. I wish I could know what it is exactly. Almost nobody from school wanted to keep talking to me, I think the only reason my closer friends hung out and chatted with me was that we saw each other every day so they just kinda did it. But after school ended nobody bothered anymore. I suppose the main reason could be my unwillingness to actually hang out with people. But it's not like I never hung out with people outside of school. So I don't know. I'm willing to fix this now, I'm willing to do shit that's going to make me uncomfortable just to hang out with someone. But I don't know what else is there. What else I'm doing wrong.

Even some of my closest friends don't give a shit about me anymore. I remember having a buddy in high school who told me I was one of his favorite friends. And he doesn't give a fuck either. I think he only messaged me like once to ask me to draw some shit for him.

I also wonder if those people didn't want to message me first or something? Did they feel awkward about reaching out? Should I have messaged everyone? But then I think, should I be the only one messaging everybody? Why didn't anyone else try to put the effort into our relationships? I think they were just glad they didn't have to see me anymore. But maybe I should have tried to reach out. I don't know.

I'm aware that many friendships that just kinda end, people become adults, they get jobs, get married, move to different cities. But most people keep at least one friend and I have no one. What the fuck am I doing wrong

like how am I even supposed to make new friends if I'm so repulsive

there's nothing interesting about me either, I spent years at home doing useless shit on my laptop, I don't have any interesting memories to share. who's going to want to be friends with the most boring person on earth

if something in my life doesn't change for the better before i turn 30 i'm just gonna kill myself i guess, what's even the point of doing shit anymore

[prod-svt]

obsessed with seventeen hiphop unit's lyrics that is about their growth and putting haters in their place cause they have their steady growth, firm reputation and overwhelming success to back those up. the bravado and seemingly bragging lyrics comes off so confident that the listeners would agree bc again they have evidences to back up their words.

just like that, you’ll always be behind us. it’s not even a royal flush, don’t need to see it, just need to hear it once (ah yeah, scoups)

they don’t even know what they’re saying, all those barking rabid dogs. i hope you’ll be healed with this verse cause I’m the vet (ah yeah, vernon)

stack up the trophy written in my names in the rack. it's all not enough, i'll be a pioneer in a new path right away. (back it up, scoups)

my name on the headline makes me happy, accomplished it every year. sold out and sold out again, gather those sold out tickets and we can build a castle an instant (back it up, scoups)

made this far got nothing to prove just look back at our footprints (back it up, vernon)

here are my results. i'm the type of to show myself through action that words. look at my workin', i will be rich with my music career only (un haeng il chi, wonwoo)

when everyone just start to depart, i already arrived. chasing the back but when they catch sight of it, that's so far (back it up, mingyu)

passion is our main dish, our goals as free dessert (fire, wonwoo)

even if we go back 10 years, i'll rise up to the top again, my way (fire, wonwoo)

unlike me who have high growing potential, you have none / .... / to compare, im heungboo who's feeling the beat while youre beat deaf even if you try to imitate / from what i see in your actions, you don't thrive at all (lotto remix, wonwoo)

when you were carefully hanging out during that time / i go to the club you went later as a guest, rap and earn money even (lotto remix, mingyu)

im about to do something that nobody has ever done (lotto remix, mingyu)

all you do is eat my leftovers (lotto remix, scoups)

the idiots talk shit on the reviews saying i won't make it but who's the top of hot rookies that people around you picked? yeah it's me (lotto remix, scoups)

"whatever i say becomes reality" such sayings become one of my popular quotes in the far future (un haeng il chi, mingyu)

30 to 100, 100 to 300, 800 then 3000, 7000 and 13000 is near / the stars the scintillating in front of me now but this isnt enough, more (un haeng il chi, mingyu)

been touring domes now havent you heard now stadium tours now. (fire, vernon)

brag binjibteoli* trophy in your hand to your mom / at least bet your pinky, if you have no profit then risk your life (un haeng il chi, scoups)

do you think im crazy? everything i earned in 3 years fill up my fingers. do you think stealing my direction will make me absurd? without making it intense, you're already scared, don't know, nod (loser!) (un haeng il chi, scoups)

the gaze of people looking down at me. when i'm about to get lazy i think of those memories when i almost lower my head. now, im so high. we're no longer at eye-level. all of you who forced our head down when we were younger, bow down! (sukyo, wonwoo)

i look down to all of you, all of you go down. look at me, i'm sold out. i dont hang out with you, it's the truth. i'd rather invest that time. invest that money you earned to me. earn some extra cash for security (sukyo, mingyu)

our manager's phone goes ring ring, it's another invitation call. you guys ghosted us three years ago. you didnt know, you never expected us to get this big (sukyo, scoups)

this is the difference between those who know me and those who don't. all these punks ive never heard of or met always draw up an image of me in their heads to their own liking. why do you turn the spilled rumors and truth into your own useless news for attention (what's the problem, mingyu)

thanks to the envy and jealousy, i feel like i've become the best. i made a comeback during the war and i've become the punk everyone needs to be cautious of (MMO madness maxed out, scoups)

underline my name and memorize it like it had become a reality (MMO Madness maxed out, scoups)

you compare me (to others) while avoiding and running away from me. even if you lose your mind as the number of white flags increases. maintain this feeling (MMO madness maxed out, scoups)

until i am satisfied, everyone is my fuckin' target, surrender everything you have (MMO, scoups)

take the words you have spit out back home, i wont stop you, do whatever you want to do. the talks eventually reach my ears but you can't say it to my face (MMO, mingyu)

we fearlessly enter and whenever we step foot, we make it ours (MMO, vernon)

if you can't handle it, go on and run away. as long as we're holding out here, we're going to take it all. so don't fight (MMO, vernon)

binjibteoli : having comeback when there is no really popular artists to confront, thus avoiding competition and easily winning music awards // MMO lyrics translation

[groundfault]

ground edo impressions (no proofreading)

0: I will kill you

1: dumb useless idiot

2: a little funny for some reason

3: dumb useless idiot

4: dumb useless idiot

5: Wow, finally something usable. Funny little xenharmonic toy.

6: This is the best single-digit edo besides maybe 9, and you can't change my mind.

7: Funny slightly larger xenharmonic toy. I like the borderline neutral/major second.

8: The only edo where Father actually works, with a kind of interesting antipentic scale and an extremely minimal Ammonite. I like the edge although it's still too small for me to compose in.

9: Extremely efficient and sounds pretty cool, but it's the last edo to have no interval I would call a tone, which bothers me. I prefer slightly softer antidiatonic.

10: Aggressively mid, I have nothing else to say.

11: The first one I particularly like to use, and the edge reminds me of 8. 9:11:14 my beloved.

12: Way better than it has any right to be.

13: Decent standard oneirotonic scale, but I prefer harder.

14: The first edo where 2.3.7 has a decent scale, and one of the few where Semaphore works.

15: The definitive Blackwood, which offers new insight into using blackdye melodically. I'd rather use blackdye though, because the 1\15 is too big to sound like much other than a semitone.

16: A pretty good general-purpose generator for both antidiatonic and armotonic. I also love the darkness of the 4L1M2s stretched diatonic scale.

17: This is such a good diatonic scale that I often use it instead of blackdye in 34edo. I'm not a fan of neutral thirds though, so 19 overshadows it as a small diatonic edo.

18: The dual-3 version of 12edo, and the smallest edo I use regularly. Extremely versatile for dual-3, and I love both the oneirotonic and smitonic scales.

19: The first edo I could call full septimal. I don't like meantone, but I like semiquartal and the interval set is quite good.

20: I kind of like this melodically, but it doesn't have much of a characteristic scale. It's the first quasi-diatonic aberrismic edo (both in size and chronologically), but I don't use the pinedye because 1\20 is still uncomfortably large for an aberrisma.

21: Feels similar to 20. Interesting combination of classical semitone and neogothic minor third, and it's a viable diasem tuning.

22: I heavily recommend this one because it's small and has 11-limit blackdye, but I don't use it much myself because I'd rather use 27 or 37.

23: Overshadowed by 25, 16, or 39 for antidiatonic/armotonic and by 18 for oneirotonic. Cool in theory for dual-3, but I'd rather use 18.

24: Underrated due to its bad reputation for being "microtonal" rather than "xenharmonic." It has my favorite semiquartal tuning and I like the 2.3.11.17.19 subgroup, especially 9:12:16:19:22.

25: My favorite antidiatonic with it's pentagoth (~13/11 + ~5/4) triad, and tied with 37 for my favorite pinedye. One of the best dual-3 edos with unequal error between the two approximations. Good 6L1s too, like 31 and 37.

26: Debatably the first full tridecimal edo. Should be very good, but I just don't care much about it.

27: Easily the best blackdye tuning, about perfectly optimized for what it does. It's one of my favorite edos, even though it doesn't do much else.

28: Almost perfect tuning of the 4L2s whole-tone scale (and its daughter 6L4s to a lesser extent). The first viable diaslen edo and the first Diminished edo that could compete with 12.

29: One of my favorite diatonic scales, and the only hard antidiatonic I would ever use.

30: 15edo but half as efficient. Some more good intervals, namely prime 13, but otherwise forgettable.

31: Like 22, it's objectively very good but I stopped using it as often once I got into blackdye. Extremely solid 2.3.5.7, and probably my favorite diasem tuning.

32: Stuck between 27 and 37. My favorite blackdye from a purely melodic perspective, and I slightly prefer its diatonic scale to the other two edos.

33: The first edo to offer a version of Deeptone, with a pentagoth triad that keeps the fifth diatonic. One of my favorite oneirotonic scales, analogous to the diatonic of 32edo. Balances edo size and septal accuracy for diaslen. Too bad the harmony is so crunchy most of the time.

34: The definitive pental blackdye that I only ever use in conjunction with 17edo diatonic. It's a fresh perspective on a class of tunings I use all the time.

35: Interesting as both a blackwood and whitewood edo, and the first dual-3 that isn't xenofifth. The softer blackwood manages to temper the 10/9 unrecognizeably narrow while having a semblance of pental harmony.

36: Probably the best diasem edo because 9/7 is a sensitive interval, but as an edo it feels incomplete.

37: Possibly my favorite edo of all time. Primes 5 to 13 are very accurate and primes 17 and 19 are usable, but prime 3 is detuned just enough to wildly distort the structure while still being usable. Nearly every interval is accurate to LCJI in some way, but in unexpected places. Everything is tastefully xenharmonic.

38: Another edo on the slow ascent towards making diaslen accurate to septal JI. Otherwise unremarkable.

39: The first good dual-5 edo, with two pental blackdye scales that could hardly be more different. 6:3:1 is an undertempered 27edo, and 5:4:2 is a more usable version of 35edo soft blackwood, where the 10/9 is tempered as narrow as possible while keeping the other intervals reasonably sized. My favorite armotonic tuning.

40: The definitive Deeptone, and the first Diminished scale that might be even better than 12edo.

41: Accurate enough to LCJI to define a whole new class of edos. Full of useful MOSes and aberrismic scales, but I prefer how 46edo tunes its aberrismic scales and I feel no need for the MOSes. Pretty good antidiatonic and oneirotonic generators.

42: My favorite Augmented tuning due to the near-6/5-eigenmonzo. The first edo with a diatonic fifth sharp enough to belong in a new category. I would use this edo a lot more if it were smaller.

43: Probably my favorite meantone edo from a theoretical perspective becuase it's good for higher limits like 50 is, although I barely use meantone anymore. Also my favorite diaslen tuning.

44: The first edo that I have basically nothing to say about. Probably just use 31edo for this type of oneirotonic.

45: The third dual-5 edo after 39 and 42. I'm more interested in this Flattone diatonic scale than 26edo's, not that I'd ever use it. 7:4:1 diasem is an unexpectedly beautiful scale, a borderline dual-3 tuning with another diatonic pentagoth triad.

46: The other contender for my favorite edo. JI-accurate like 41, but with a sharper 3 and 5 that I prefer, a better 11, and a substantially better 13. The accurate 3 untangles the mess that is 37edo, resulting in a different experience. 1\46 is near my lower bound for an aberrisma, but 46edo also has a good penslen like 41, so the smaller edostep is actually a good thing because it puts 2\46 within my desired aberrismic range.

47: The first good septal blackdye edo, even though the 7/6 is more of a 20/17. Unfortunately the array of unexpected concordances isn't enough to justify its size.

48: Sort of resembles 72edo as a multiple of 12, and a surprisingly good diaslen tuning given how unremarkable it is when it comes to interval approximations. I like Negri I guess.

49: Superpyth is one of those temperaments with a bimodal ideal generator range, either ~22edo with the 5/4 and 11/8, or ~27edo with the 6/5 and 13/8. 49 misses both. Some of the intervals are interesting, but not by enough.

50: The other higher-limit meantone. It uses a lot of the good intervals from 25, but the size isn't worth it to me as someone who doesn't really use meantone.

51: Overtempered Slendric, I guess? One of the least distinct edos.

52: The diatonic fifth is finally sharp enough to be a decent Dirt generator, but 57 is so impressive at approximating primes 7 to 29 add 37 that I have no interest in it.

53: We can stop here. The 4:5:6 burns a hole in my eardrum and I don't like that.

[s0nia246]

(Since no one wrote it, I did. Have fun reading and thank you for reading. Sorry if it's bad or has errors, I'm not the best at writing still.)

____________________________________________

You don't know how you survive this long in the Backrooms. You thought you would have died at level 0 with all the other lost souls, but instead, here you are, alive and breathing.  You should be relieved to be alive, you suppose.  It's a miracle,  isn't it? But you're not grateful for the circumstances. You were never given a choice to live or die in the first place, and now you're stuck. The Backroom has become your home. Your prison, really.

"Finally the exit is just ahead," Y/N murmured to no one and themselves.  

They were walking through a huge myriad of rivers, lakes, valleys, and even mountain ranges in the distance. A dense layer of green flora grows everywhere, composed of plants that your brain is not even capable of imagining. You don't know how long you've been walking aimlessly through the "Terror Basins", but you're exhausted, physically and emotionally drained. You'd like nothing more than to sleep for hours and years. Maybe for decades. 

But you couldn't afford to stop now. Not when it looks like there could be more dangers waiting for you at every turn. You just wanted to get home to your family and relax with a book until you could collapse into bed. You didn't want to face the horrors of these strange new landscapes. 

You walked through the glowing door and stumbled on the threshold. 

(Level 200 No Place Like Home)

"Where am I?" you murmured weakly.

You felt as if your muscles might tear apart at any moment. As much as you try to fight off sleep, the exhaustion will always win out over you. So much so that you don't think you could stand upright right now if you tried.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" said a soft voice from beside you.

 They sounded familiar somehow, but you couldn't place why.

 "We've missed you, you know."

The voice continued to murmur soothing words as if they came straight from the heart, but the owner was missing. You had a weird feeling about the voice, however, as if it were almost... familiar. Almost like you have heard it before, but where?  You closed your eyes and tried to remember what your mind was made up of before the fatigue set in and rendered you useless.

As you tried to piece together your memories, they began to slip away from you and fade.  One by one. Finally, all that remained were vague impressions.

 "W...Where am...I-I d...don't - know..." You tried to speak, but everything got jumbled up together, rendering you speechless.

"It must have been a long drive, your home," the voice mused, "Let's take a walk."

With great effort, you managed to open your eyes again, which helped clear things up a bit, but it still didn't make sense.  Who is this person? Who's talking to me? Where am I? What is going on? What does this person mean by home? You wondered.

"Oh sorry about that, here let me help you up. You seem pretty tired. Just lean against my shoulder for now. That'll do, dearie." 

The stranger held out their arm and you gratefully took hold of their elbow. They pulled you along gently and you followed. Even as lightheaded as you were, you managed to stay upright thanks to their help.  The stranger kept muttering softly to you all the while, and you were beginning to wonder if they were a hallucination.

"There's old Joe Vee, still running that breakfast place, serving the same people, day in and day out. Been doing it for 60 years. Remember going there before school, on those days with a bleak blue sky and cold air that chapped your lips? You remember, right? That man poured his heart and soul into that food. It's his legacy. His flesh and blood. He's been holding that soup bowl for 30 days. It's starting to fall apart."

You blinked, trying to focus your vision once more, but it still wasn't making much of a difference.  There was something very odd happening, but you weren't sure whether it was because you were too tired to see it properly or just because it was an unfamiliar environment. Your brain was still a bit hazy. 

"30 days...falling apart ...what...What are you talking about...?" you muttered. 

Your mouth and tongue wouldn't cooperate enough to form complete sentences, this is bad. Why can't I focus... 

"I'm - I'm not quite understanding,  um...." You looked around.  You two were standing in front of a sign, reading 'Old Joe's  Delight'.

"There's the school. With enough time, it could be your school, just the way you remembered it. Remember that year you went to space camp in the science lab and you met Sarah Palmer? Remember how she dared you to go into the basement alone, and you did it because you were 10 and stupid, and she was the first girl you've ever noticed?

Remember how dark and cold it was down there? Below, below, below. You remember. You were so happy to leave, to see sunlight again. To see Home again.

 If you didn't know any better, you might have believed you were falling apart down there."

The stranger's arms slipped around you again, and you rested your head on their broad chest, letting them carry you forward. They were warm, and they smelled good. 

"I wonder what Sarah Palmer is doing with herself now? You can find out if you want. All you have to do is remember. Bring her with you." 

"Rot," you murmured, barely louder than a whisper. "I...don't see it. It's...just a normal town...my town. This...is not normal."

They laughed, and though their body shook a little from the action it was quite pleasant. "This is normal...for you. Normal isn't always what you think it is."

As you leaned more heavily on their chest, you could feel them smiling slightly at you. You couldn't tell whether it was a real smile or a figment of your imagination, but either way, you welcomed its presence.

 "I know you must be tired l, dearie. It must be hard being back. After all, it's been such a long time since we saw each other, yes? One more stop to make. Just one more stop to make."  They stopped outside of what appeared to be a house.

"You can tell it used to be beautiful and untouched. Now the paint chips and the walls have grown too thin. It's not a place that's taken shape yet. You can make it better. Please remember how it used to look. How your Mother would take you on walks around the neighborhood on summer afternoons, the pure and genuine joy that came with your birthday, how it felt to not think about living and dying or breaking into a million pieces. You remember." The stranger was stroking your hair gently and whispering sweet promises to you.

"Everything's gonna be alright now." 

"You are home."

"Welcome home. We've missed you."

"We're here for you."

"The rot only grows when you're not around."

"Start building, molding. We're adaptable."

"We can be whatever you want, and we knew what you wanted from the second you set foot here."

"Keep that rot at bay."

"Just how you remember, whatever you want, all the time. You're in control here. All we need is for you to remember."

"So stay with us."

"Stay."

"Look behind you. Everyone's here. "

"Come home."

All you needed was to close your eyes and see your friends' faces, to see the smiles on their faces as they welcomed you home, to see their hands on your shoulders to show you love and support you unconditionally.

You couldn't resist closing your eyes and letting the darkness consume you.

"You'll be happy hear with us. Welcome Home..."

Again, thank you for reading this silly little idea.

[interlacrimas]

Love in your blade - chapter 1 the new job

Once you are born a disgrace, you always will be a disgrace. That always been very clear to me. Not even the biggests of the efforts could make me ever be worthy, not even magic itself did…still, I need something for my unneeded survival… even if I am not valuable enough for the mere act of being alive, it is in my unholy nature to beg to live.

I've woken up early, and looked at the ceiling, that was almost falling, falling together with my hope, i've stared at it silently, for at least 10 minutes straight

“Why am I even alive…Is just to remind me of how useless I am? Or do I actually am deserving of anything…” Until i reminded myself, that spending so much time immerse in my own thoughts is a privilege i will never have, I quickly dress up, on my New uniform for my new job, it is way fancier then my other clothes, I was terrified of having to pay for these, i couldn't afford it, even if I save money for 2 years straight, i was relieved at receiving not only the clothes, but free food as well, it's rare for the royalty to show any kindness

I went walking towards the almighty castle, leaving the house 30 minutes before my shift, the long road didn't gave me the luck of eating breakfast before going to work.

Until I was there…“Wow…this is…stunning…! I've never seen something as shiny as that…”

“Could you stop admiring the castle and come to work?” Someone tall yell at me, probably my superior, i just nodded and enter, following them, my job was cleaning that giant building…daily…I can already feel the back pain, but i'm not in the place to wine about it

The hours went quickly as i sweep the place and its most varied corners, making sure each place is clean, i was just hoping i wouldn't get fired in my first day, no one gave me instructions about the place, i've found myself lost many times, why did it need to be so big…is it to make sure we are aware of how inferior we are to them?

It was almost night, and i was on the last floor…finally, the place sure was fancy, the paintings were marvelous, just like if each detail had been discussed and had hard thought about its meaning when suddenly i just felt myself falling down to the stairs, my eyes widen as i felt no control to my body, i already accepted defeat, or i would have a severe injury, or i would broke something i couldn't pay even if i sell my lungs, or, in the best hypothesis, I would die and finally rest for a bit…until i felt my hand being touched, and i wasn't falling anymore

The person holding my sweaty and dirty hands were using fancy clothings, and a crown, my eyes widen at knowing it was the king himself…i was just hoping that if he was going to kill me, that he left me fall, and not take my head out…the king stared at me for a couple of seconds till he says:

“Your eyes are pretty unique, you know?”

I was totally surprised at that comment…that surely wasn't what i expected

“Are they contact lens?”

I've created courage to answer the fancy looking man

“No…its a long story, to summarize…magic”

the man quickly push me back to the ground, as we get closer i take one step back and look at him, sweating a little

“I don't see how someone like you could ever get involved with magic, thought…”

“It didn't make much result with it …your majesty? Im sorry but i'm not aware if you're…like…the king or something?”

“I am, i thought it was Basic knowledge to a citizen of this kingdom"

“When you have almost anything to survive, your priority has nothing to do with the king and his fancy life…”

Crap, I said this out loud…! My head is gone for good…He stared at me and smirked at himself;

“You're very brave to say that to me, peasant.”

Maybe i was being to kind to myself, not only my head is gone…i can already be seen as dead…its the end

“I appreciate that, no one ever talked like that to me, brave idiot”

“Hm…you're welcome? I guess…” i said relieved, at least i will keep my head in place for a little longer 

“And about your situation, i will take care of it, you can spend your days here while you work here, you don't need to pay for nothing, is this already a great help?”

My eyes shined, my heart beating faster, as i open my mouth in disbelief, my eyes widen, as i stare at the king himself, offering a room for me to stay, why…? Did I hit the jackpot or something? I couldn't allow myself to question it, its too good to be true…but im fine with beautiful lies, i've seen hope for the first time, i could only say one thing for him, show him how much grateful I was.

"Thank you…thank you so much, your majesty!”

"don't thank me, by the way, i'm assuming you don't know my name, if you had a hard time figuring my position in the kingdom”

“yeah…i really don't know” i said with a shy smile, embarassed

“Fuyuhiko kuzuryuu, and you, who are you, mister commoner?”

“Hajime…hajime hinata.”

“See you again soon, hajime hinata” He left quickly, down to the stairs, and reminded myself i had work to do, i've cleaned the last floor, with a new income about the situation

Maybe everything will be fine after all…

[unveiled-if]

Sorry for the radio silence!

A... Lot has been going on. Idk if I've ever told this but I work two jobs at the moment, one as a restaurant manager and other within the navy, and it's grinding me to the ground. I have exactly 1 day off during the week and that's spent sleeping and crying, you'll know more as you read. If you don't, I get it. It's a bit of a downer post.

But working is fine! I like being a busybody, and I love working for both places. BUT.

My back/leg/hip/lumbar's given out. I don't know if it's the worst case of sciatica known to mankind or what, but it's been going on since last November and getting worse by the day. I'm 25 and looking at a future in early retirement (AT UNDER 30), it's that bad, and even worse for my psyche. Painkillers don't help (prescription/OTC, what have you), muscle relaxants don't work, physio doesn't work, one doctor even injected some cortisone for a whole separate issue and wow, surprise, that didn't work. I'm so close to going to the ER and asking for an amputation at this point.

Now, I know sharing this is kinda TMI, but I feel like you deserve a reason, the transparency why I haven't gotten around to posting lately. I've just been working (literally) through the pain, gone home, ugly cried from the agony, and passed out just to repeat the whole shebang.

And I can't not work. I'm so deep in debt, you know, in Finnish standards. I know 13k is nothing compared to some, but here it's a lot if I can't keep working.

I'm sorry for oversharing, but this is my reality right now, and I'm at my wit's end. I can't sleep, I can barely get out of bed. I can't tie my shoes. I can't pick up my niece, and I can't go out to spend time with my friends without almost overdosing on painkillers just to move. Sometimes only alcohol helps, and I don't want to do that because of the addiction running in my genes.

I want to scream and cry and leave this body for a better one, but I can't, and if this keeps going I won't be able to do anything and it scares the shit out of me.

I know the doctors are doing their best, but of course there's bias when I'm so young. We have to go through all the plausible treatments before surgery is even considered. Plus, I'm from a tiny town. Getting an appointment takes months, and then it's the same things all over again.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not giving you the updates you deserve. I still listen to music that inspires me, and I do write down ideas, but I can't bring myself to write more than a paragraph, once a week.

I'm sorry for not interacting or being as chipper as I usually am. It's just too much for me to handle all at once, I am but one creature.

But I'll try to keep up a positive outlook. Finland is a good country, with good healthcare, and I trust them to help me so I can keep paying taxes haha.

Sorry for a long, useless post, but you deserve to know. And maybe I needed to get it off my chest. My family is already tired of listening to me complain anyway.

Love y'all forever 💜

[mysticalreviewblaze]

🚫🚫VENT POST🚫🚫

I really honestly personally don't want a job... But you know what I feel like I NEED to have one.

Because I believe I'm not good enough if I don't have a said job. I feel like I'm letting my parents down.

They expect a highly intelligent, no emotions, mature ridden oldest daughter...

But it's like they forget that high expectations BREAK kids, they HURT kids, we feel useless if we aren't useful.

We don't feel shitty if we are not needed which causes us to wonder if something is wrong with us...

... I'm getting a job tomorrow... I'm going to be working... Because I dropped out of highschool.

And you know it's fucked up when I tell my friends and they think I'm going to stay a complete drop out, when I've told them multiple times "Oh no I'm still getting my diploma just not in school online school"..

But it still didn't ring a bell in their heads... They guilt trip me when I stopped going not realizing I was fucking upset I got broken up with, I had drama every single day, I had to take care of my niece, I had to watch my sister, I had to take care of the animals, And I never once got a fucking thank you...

My teachers wonder why I'm so fucking quiet well when you have one teacher ignore you, you kinda just stop doing anything a teacher wants you to do...

You know I told my teacher I didn't want to be a role model at the age of 14 she said I had no choice... I have to ve a role model...

My family is fucked up in all different ways, one second we're happy next second I'm in my room, angry, sad, fearful, or just flat out tired...

Dads a fucking drinker and my mother just laughs it off and acts like it's normal... Not when you're afraid of your drunk dad... No, because he's so fucking reckless one day he may hurt himself badly...

I honestly wonder if I even want to be on this planet but then again I'm afraid of dying so nevermind I'll just deal with this pain until I'm in my grave...

I'm not trying to be an ass I'm not trying to ask for attention I just want someone to relate to me... Because I'm so tired of holding all of this pain in... I'm always waiting till a new drama pops up because it does...

I haven't even lived my life yet and my oldest brother a man who's almost in his fucking 30s is asking an 18 year old relationship advice when I have none... I have fucking opinions, morals, standards... I have only had 2 relationships and they both fucked up... I know nothing about relationships still I'm only just starting and I'm already being used as a therapist for my family... When I got tired of being the therapist 2 years ago, only because my friends would just ignore what I'd have to say...

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Sorry this was all over the place but I just needs to get it out Friday may 22 2023 at 5:11am I'm too lazy to put tags on this post later.