#if this thing breaks its my sign to stop being such a stoner

[sirpeppersto]

my weed pen blinking red last night and not pulling at all, now being perfectly fine today without me charging it

[barn-dawg]

okie I made a post re: making a list of music I enjoyed this year so here it is because @rotmaxx and @m1stth3c4t were nice enough to say yes to that so the rest of you have to suffer

going to limit it to music released in 2024, everything is under readmore bc it's going to be link and word salad hell - this is in no particular order

got into screamo this year thanks to a brooklynvegan article covering their favourite screamo albums that had come out in 2024 at the time of the article's writing - I listened to everything At Least Once but two albums were on repeat for me

One of those was Frail Body's Artificial Boquet which is blistering front to back, starting with the blistering Scaffolding and never relenting in its 40 min runtime. It does have some more quiet moments (though they are still pretty crushing), which are an appreciated break from some of the tightest playing I've ever heard since Deafheaven's Sunbather.

The next was Respire's Hiraeth, a slower but more complex album with orchestal sections and quite a few medleys. They're self-described as "post-everything" on their spotify, which I can see since they remind me a lot of Godspeed! You Black Emperor. I appreciate that Respire isn't afraid to slow things down and just let you breathe for a minute - a lot more so than the Frail Body album. My favourite off the album has to be Home of Ash.

Another screamo album I was anticipating was Touché Amoré's Spiral In A Straight Line, an excellent addition to the screamo/post-hardocre band's discography filled almost front to back with bangers (save for Force of Habit, which is a dud imo), the opening track, Nobody's, feels like a song tailor-made to be screamed back to Jeremy Bolm at the beginning of every show the band will do for the rest of their career - I highly recommend this album if you want to get into the band.

In a similar vein, Agriculture released an EP this year called Living Is Easy. They're a breath of fresh air in the black metal scene, their music being far more hopeful and optimistic than their contemporaries. Agriculture is screaming in defiance of the void rather than embracing it, I think the title track shows that off really well.

There was also Bongripper's Empty. Extremely heavy stoner metal following in the footsteps of Sleep's Dopesmoker, a great instrumental album that would probably scare me a little bit if I got high to it.

For something even more oppressive, check out Civerous' Maze Envy if you want to be crushed to death by audio It speaks for itself really.

There was also Chat Pile's Cool World, imo it's a far groover, less uncomfortable experience compared to their previous album God's Country though arguably equally as crushing. My favourite off this album has to be Masc, an uncomfortable look into how toxic masculinity affects the relationship between a man and his partner and how the simple fact that he has needs as a human negatively impacts his self perception.

Taking a sudden left turn into hip-hop because a lot of good fucking rap albums came out this year!

Starting off strong with Doechii's mixtape Alligator Bites Never Heal, easily the most varied piece to release this year, Doechii flexes her muscles by hopping from sub-genre to sub-genre and does it really fucking well from back to front, and keeps doing it with jazz renditions of songs off that album - Doechii is definitely one to watch, I'm really excited to see what else she comes out with. My personal favourite off her mixtape is NISSAN ULTIMA.

Doechii also featured on a song on Tyler The Creator's new album, Chromakopia, which was announced without warning around the 21st of October before releasing a week later. Tyler has had an amazing run since Flower Boy and shows no signs of stopping. This album, to me, feels like a mix of Igor and Call Me If You Get Lost in terms of aesthetics and sound. Chromakopia has an explosive opening in St. Chroma, and goes on to explore Tyler's thoughts on aging and different aspects of sexual and romantic relationships, includin polyamory and a pregancy scare, it's an easy recommend from me.

Speaking of surprise releases, Kendrick Lamar silently released GNX on the 22nd of November. It's very different from his prior releases, not having an overarching story or idea, though that doesn't mean it's any less deserving of appreciation as a piece of art. GNX is a love letter to west-coast rap and RnB. The opening Wacced Out Murals, to me, feels like a manifesto for Kendrick's jaded view of the rap game and its current state - it managed to get responses from both Lil Wayne and Nas (who had opposite reactions). I think, overall, GNX is Kendrick is showing that he's capable of stooping down to the level of his peers and outdoing all of them (as if this year's beef didn't show that already).

Changing gears, we also have The Thief Next to Jesus by Ka - the final album released before his passing earlier this year. A lo-fi rap album with a heavy emphasis on religion.

There was also Memoirs In Armour by Navy Blue, a very mood rap album with an amazing mix on the piano seen in the opening of Take Heed.

VEENA by Heems was another album to release album, instrumetally I thought it was fantastic though it can be spiritual lyrical individual bar-wise, however I think it's well worth checking out. The album art is also very nice.

Another album with fantastic instrumentals to release this year was I Lay Down My Life For You by JPEGMAFIA, definitely the most unique release of this year. Peggy shows it's entirely possible to do a rap-rock fusion and do it very very good. It's intense from beginning to end and I really hope JPEGMAFIA continues making music in this style. Just linking the whole thing because asking me what my favourite song isoff of this album is like asking me what my favourite oxygen molecule I've breathed in recently is.

Capping things off, we also had Killer Mike release Michael & The Mighty Midnight Revival, Songs For Sinners And Saints . This is a direct follow up to last year's MICHAEL, bringing back the gospel choir that did a lot to elevate that album. KM&TMMR is, to me, an elaboration and build-up of the musical ideas presented on MICHAEL, I'm pretty confused by SLUMMER 4 JUNKIES because a huge portion of that track is just SLUMMER from MICHAEL which I just don't understand personally.

Kneecap has a pretty intense year, releasing both a movie and an album, Fine Art, which lives up to its name. Fine Art is almost a concept album, covering the West Blefast trio's night out in the pub, doing drugs and avoidng the dealers they owe money to, and going to raves. The album has beats making use of traditional irish folk music, the gaeilge language, with adoration of club bangers that shine on songs like I'm Flush. They also hate british colonialism, and as a Fenian cunt I respect that to put it mildly.

The hatred of The UK contiunes because Bob Vylan, a grime/punk duo released Humble As The Sun which comes out swinging on the title track, advocating for a united Ireland and railing against the exploitation of black men for white profit within the music industry. Humble As The Sun is a staunch refusal to be submissive in the face of british systemic racism and austerity while celebrating black art.

While I've enjoyed rap for years, this year in particular I really branched out and found new artists to keep an eye on. My usual wheelhouse is punk, which also had a pretty profilic year for releases.

This is especially true for Fucked Up, who released three seperate albums within a pretty short time of each other - all of which had been written and recorded within 24 hours (one of them livestreamed too), those albums are Another Day, Who's The Time & A Half, and Someday. Who's Got The Time was only available for 24 hours on bandcamp, so I won't cover that one.

Another Day is Fucked Up's shortest album to date, clocking in at 37 minutes, and is the sequel album to 2023's One Day and it's definitely audible. It very much sounds like they immediately stopped recording One day and immedately went into Another Day. It's not as synth-forward as One day is, the synths take a backseat - however they still make songs like Stimming.

Someday, in constrast, is the most unique of the trilogy, most of the songs make use of aso many features that Damian Abraham's signature bark is a rarity on the record and none of the songs are what you would expect from a punk album, songs such as I Took My Mom To Sleep straying pretty far from the genre. The album mainly focuses on the hostility of Canada towards migrants and is incredibly blunt with its messaging, something I always appreciate from hardcore bands. Off of Somneday, Feed Me Your Feathers has been on repeat for me with its infectous melody.

Drug Chruch also released PRUDE, I don't have tons to say about it - for me, it's a continuation of their ideas from 2022's Hygiene which I enjoyed quite a bit.

Kill Lincoln released their No Normal, a ska-punk rager and follow up to 2020's Can't Complain. It's tighter, higher energy, everyone brings their A-game, it's fun - No Normal is everything ska-punk should be. The opener I'm Fine (I Lied) being a great example of this - if they ever put out a modern Tony Hawk's Pro Skater I expect Kill Lincoln on that soundtrack.

This last section is for albums I listened to that are in their own genre.

Starting with the metalcore heavy-hitter for this year, Knocked Loose's You Won't Go Before You're Supposed To, an album that feels like being punched in the face for 27 minutes straight. This album is unrelenting, vocally and instrumentally punishing from beginning to end - it's pissed at you for deciding to listen to it and you're going to feel that the entire time. My personal favourite track is Suffocate, which has a feature from Poppy on it.

In a completely opposite vein (mostly) is Mount Eerie's Night Palace! A lo-fi indie album, entirely recorded on analog equiment (just like Phil Elverum's magnum opus, The Glow Pt. 2), the album skips from fuzzier cuts like the title track to groovier cuts like the follow-up Huge Fire, alongside references to the prevoisly mentioned The Glow Pt. 2 and Mount Eerie's devastating A Crow Looked At Me. It's an album about colonisation and our society's deteriorating relationship with nature, Phil Elverum's muse, first and foremost though imo.

After the band went on hiatus, Black Midi's Geordie Greep released The New Sound, an album that pulls from many many different genres, from prog to jazz to latin to rock. It's an excellent display of technique and whatever pervert Greep was embodying in the lyrics.

Foxing released their self titled too, a vast depature from their prvious material that I was familiar with. I'm not even sure what to label it genre-wise, is it screamo? At some points, sure. Industrial? potentially! Regardless, it is easily their best worth without a doubt with Secret History and Greyhound being my personal favourites off the album. I'm not sure how you scream like that without fucking up your voice permenantly.

Vampire Weekend also released a new album, Only God Was Above Us, their first since 2019's Father of the Bride, and what an album it is from front to back, this is some of the most unique music I've heard ever, not just from this year. Connect has to be my personal favourite, the piano on this song is just beautiful.

There was also a personal favourite of mine, Trauma Ray's Chameleon. This album is a crushing wall of sound with dreamy vocals, excellent shoegaze that almost feels like that state you're on the cusp of falling into a really deep sleep - it's a suffocating embrace of an album from beingging to end, my personal favourites are Ember and the title track.

There's also Hiatus Kaiyote's Love Heart Cheat Code, an album that's hard to pin down with it bouncing between soul, funk, and psychedelic, it's definitely worth your time with it being beautiful from beginning to end.

A highly anticipated release this year for me was Godspeed! You, Black Emperor's "NO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBURARY 2024, 28,340 DEAD" a direct reference to the death toll of the Gazan genocide, which most likely has doubled since the date mentioned in the title, though we don't know for sure.

This is an instumental album mainly, the only break being the reading of a poem by Michele Fiedler Fuentes on Raindrops Cast In Lead. To me, this album contains multitudes, having moments that are extremely bleak only to be contrasted later by moments of hope. There are highs and lows that alternate, there are green shoots sprouting from grey rubble. There's a lot to be said about this album and what it envokes, but all that there is really worth saying is

NO TITLE AS OF 25 DECEMBER 2024, 45,400 DEAD

NO TITLE AS OF 25 DECEMBER 2024, 45,400 DEAD

NO TITLE AS OF 25 DECEMBER 2024, 45,400 DEAD

NO TITLE AS OF 25 DECEMBER 2024, 45,400 DEAD

NO TITLE AS OF 25 DECEMBER 2024, 45,400 DEAD

[foxglove03]

I am on a flight across the North Atlantic back home. The border guard asked me what I had bought while in Ireland and I felt strangely compelled to tell him a lie. Instead, I said I had only spent money on clothes and it was not a lot. Three hours into the flight and I sit completely afraid every bodily ache is a sign of impending doom. All the things I am, to add being half a hypochondriac to the list makes a varied mix. Since I learned how the author of “Goodnight Moon” died kicking her leg up as a sign of good health to her nurse, you can’t be too careful. I said all my tacky goodbyes to the people in my apartment, promised to talk, said the time I spent with them was nice. None of them believed me probably. I have a compulsive need to convey my true feelings and they’re all not idiots. Everything got so spoiled in record time. I was going back to look at pictures from when I arrived. In just a few months, an opinion can be formed so solidly. And I think we all had such unmoving thoughts two to three weeks in. My roommate made me promise her several times that hang out with her in the future. It’s an absolute miracle who you’d hug if that’s what the social convention calls for. I hugged my least favorite roommate goodbye though he never cleaned and only produced miraculous mess after mess, and of all things slept with the one girl I liked. Also fought with me frequently after the first month of arriving to our apartment. Everyone looked at me to hug him so I relented.

The sick feeling in my stomach during the last few days of getting my things together has finally stopped for the most part. It was no definitive transition. It was there and the next second I thought about it, gone. Probably went somewhere with the Dublin train. On the train I finished reading “Stoner” by John Williams and cried very quietly making my face all sticky the way tears do. Particularly it was the last twenty or so pages that got me in William Stoner’s story. He was a character that longed for a passion he didn’t possess himself and never got quite a hold of in his life. This made his death rattle in the final pages a painful one. Although he seemed to extract joy from teaching, it was never with a memorable fire to me. The book is exactly what my parents always accuse me of indulging in too much. Bubbling misery in every movie, book and song. I did like the book, but I think it’s funny it ever reared its head out of its fifty-something year old obscurity.

Now I won’t be confusing this alleviation of semester stress for a tranquility in my personal life. Most of those details mustn’t be thought of for pure continuity’s sake. Plus I have a nightmarish paper to be completed in the next 12 hours on whether or not Greek figured pottery can offer any information on the Athenian economy. It can’t, I’ve beat the horse in 150 ways and have about 1/4 of the paper to go. I downloaded the 2011 version of Twin Fantasy which I think I’ve only listened to briefly before. I was watching the version of “Sober To Death” Will Toledo does on Tiny Desk and it’s fantastic, completely love it. Looking through the comments someone says a bit about how they preferred before his changes made in the re-record. Since I’m an all-out media purist I had to listen. I think I should do some drawings just on the parts he cut out in all the songs. I’m such a sucker for long drawling speaking parts. It’s completely different but it reminds me of the song “Waking of The Witch” by Kate Bush. Absolutely nothing alike other than a song with no singing involved, incantations, monologues and exclamations instead of singing.

I can’t wait to get coffee in a vat. A comically large, pissing your pants type of size they have in the states. Being handed that will have me singing God Bless America backwards or break into cartwheels of patriotism. I’m hoping to avoid any serious thought over the course of the next few weeks and using my time to just draw like a maniac and read twelve books and absorb the contents of this lovely, terrible app. I have to complete a commission of many different dogs which I’ve been putting off. The woman who’s paying me will totally give me a lot more money the work’s worth so I’m nervous about delivering something a good quality. I’ll need to draw more dogs.

I’ve also got some zine ideas in my head which’ll be great for a punk art event thing I’ve been invited to in February. One zine’s already done, it’s just a matter of printing.

I’m so paranoid about getting a blood clot that I have this image in my head of touching the ground and bursting like a ballon. If you’re reading this, that did not happen 🫡

(An aside, glanced at the woman reading right next to me and a line from her book said “I can live with her being happy, even if it’s a fucking dickhead causing it.” A beautiful example of 21st century prose lol)

[undercover-stories]

Take My Hand (Say You Need Me Still)

A Daredevil Fic (Matt/Foggy, Girl!Foggy. Pre-Slash)

Summary  : Look, getting shot is just the New York experience. You haven’t lived  unless you’ve been held at gunpoint at least once. And if you save  someone doing it? Hey, bonus!

First Chapter: AO3

 “I had to exist without you”,

*

*

*

Foggy had whispered those words as if in a trance. Face turned towards the sky as if speaking to no one in particular. Her words had been unprompted. They had been simply been enjoying each other’s company that day after a long work week and a chance to relax at a barbeque courtesy of Luke and Claire.

It was a month after Fisk and 7 before the incident at the police station. Matt remembers the both of them lying on a mattress futon and a pile of duvets on the roof of Colleens Dojo. Foggys tone had been soft but Matt was so focused on her that it was enough to drown out the other sounds around them. Luke and Danny laughing where they were manning the barbeque grill. Misty and Karen comparing notes on Jessica’s recent client which she didn’t appreciate but didn’t seem to mind enough to make them stop as she nursed her Jack Daniels on the edge of their conversation. Misty talking sports of all things with Colleen who was wholly and very competitively invested in the New York Yankees.

But they had all turned into peripheral noise to Matt. He had pushed himself up. Fully turned his body towards her. Something Matt didn’t really have to do since there was no visual component in his interactions with the people around him but Foggy had always appreciated the gesture. A sign of assurance from her best friend that his attention was completely and undividedly on her. For her. She’s always been proud of herself for being able garner that kind of reaction from him.

But at that moment Foggy herself had seemed distracted. Even without being able to see it, Matt could tell that her eyes weren’t directed at him. She felt distant. Sounded distant. A mirror of what Matt had been feeling ever since he came back.

He hadn’t really understood why at the time. After all he’d gotten everything he ever wanted. Even more. His firm, his partner, his identity and most importantly his friends. Not just Karen and Foggy. His best friend had made sure of that when she dragged him to Jessica’s place and sat outside her office slash apartment door while Jess tore Matt a new one over what he’d done and proceeded to throw him out with a door slam so hard the glass panel shook.

That night Jessica called his burner later telling him to meet her on a roof top (What is it with roof tops?) because she needed his ears and to quote her “You owe me. Your ass better be here in an hour”.

Matt was there before the hour was up with 20 minutes to spare.

“Fucking Boy scout”, Jess had muttered under her breath but Matt smiled and tossed her a brand-new grey scarf.

“It’s the cheapest one at Walmarts”, he had said but the softness of the material and the tag said otherwise.

Matt hadn’t needed prompting to show up on Luke’s apartment door next and meeting Danny at the Dojo where the millionaire had proceeded to wipe the floor with him in hand to hand.

“I let you win”, Matt had panted, trying to catch his breath.

“Keep telling yourself that”, Danny sniped back, though there was no heat in his words, as he threw him a water bottle.

Matt woke up the next day sore, bruised and unable to wipe the grin off his face when he showed up at the office that morning to an array of extremely expensive looking bouquets congratulating their re-opening and heavily perfumed because Danny Rand is a passive aggressive dick.

But it also came with a 6 digit cheque from Rand Industries so none of them were about to complain. “A gift, from Rand Industries to the Firm of Nelson and Murdock. To hopefully new and better beginnings” was written on the envelope it came with.

Matt wished it had been as easy with Foggy. Not that either of them had given any resistance in efforts of reconciliation. But there were no ‘How To’s’ they could follow telling them exactly how to do that. No guidebooks detailing the steps needed to take to rebuild a bond that had gone through so much. The awkward bubble between them seemed to only grow more and more, stretched thin and fragile and so vulnerable to the slightest touch.

Until that night when after a few bottles of beers and a feeling of relaxed contentment that only came with a full stomach, Foggy whispered her confession as if asking for contrition.

Her words, though morose, held no acrimonious judgment. But the vestige of pain in them was bare and it had twisted Matt’s insides to hear it. It was such a simple phrase but it held so much and he knew instantly that it had been something she’d been keeping quiet. Out of shame, thinking that it was something she didn’t have a right to feel. Afraid that it might make Matt more distant.

But it was an admittance that Matt had realized he needed to hear. An honest fearless truth that was not spoken to condemn but instead a plea for him to understand where she stood. For him to know she was still bearing pain that she herself found difficult to admit. So afraid that Matt would recoil from her for it. But how could he. How could he punish such fearlessness when he knows how much he had taken from Foggy?

Both of them had made mistakes, but Foggy had been so patient. Matt had already taken and asked so much from Foggy who still tried his best to welcome him back with open arms. But Foggy had never been one to tip toe around Matt about anything. A habit that could be aggravating at times but it was always a cost he had been willing to pay for the intimacy that was brought forward from it.

And this was Foggy begging Matt to have that chance for intimacy again. As if she didn’t deserve to ask for it and it was a failure on Matts part that Foggy would harbour such hesitation.

Even through all his secrets and fear, Foggys openness about where she stood in regards to Matt had always been a beacon for him. A guide to teach him how to be a friend. Lessons he’d been deprived off the second his dad died. Matt had cast out the hope of ever achieving such a relationship. Already given up early on at the thought that he could ever receive the kind of easiness that Foggy offered and it was a miracle for him that she did. A miracle that they had met in Columbia and a miracle that through all Foggys annoying habits, that he’d been open to give her a chance. A choice that he would never have made if Foggy had been anything less than who she was. She in of itself was a miracle to him and Matt was deeply torn that he had made Foggy ever feel otherwise.

 “I had only ever wanted a friend”

Foggys words from the night of their huge fight came back to him and while it might have been said in less than stellar circumstances, he knows even then that it had rung with truth. Foggy had never asked for anything more. How could he have failed to give her something so simple.

After a while Foggy finally turns her face towards Matt. He tastes salt in the air but doesn’t move to address it because he needs to focus right now. To really listen and conscientious, to what Foggy was trying to say. A lack in communication had after all been their downfall. Too much resentment over kept secrets and rancorous unspoken anger.

But there’s none of that hanging in between them now. Instead, Matt heard what wasn’t spoken loud and clear.

 “Don’t leave. Don’t make me go through that again. Stay. Here, with me”

Matt doesn’t think there’s anything he can say that could live up as an answer to that so instead he creeps his hand forward to grasp Foggys in a sincere hope that his own words would ring with the same vulnerable truth that Foggy had offered.

  “I’ll try”

*

Things had gotten better afterward. The honesty Foggy openly shows was an invitation for Matt to do the same. Not a demand and Matt will forever be grateful for that. But even so Matt still walks on eggshells at first. Not knowing what he was allowed to reveal. What was welcomed and what was not. Foggy like always, had put Matt at ease the way she always could.

It starts with an open invite to a home cooked dinner where Foggy made it clear that she wanted to know more about Matt’s abilities.

 “If you want that last brownie you’re gonna have to impress me Murdock and for extra motivation, it’s a corner piece”

 Matt had laughed, “I’m not sure what you’re asking here Nelson. I’m not sure I want to. The last time you gave me a dare I ended up doing the chicken dance in the college cafeteria”

 “Boohoo, you deserved it after that stunt you pulled with the waffle incident. I’ve still got the burn marks to prove it. Now enough excuses and man up Murdock”

The banter might have sounded harsh to a stranger’s ears but it held such a familiarity that Matt rejoiced every second and every word. But despite all that he was still so scared to ruin what they were trying to rebuilt. Scared to run Foggy off with ‘too much’.

Foggy had again, nudged him into it gingerly and with such patience that Matt hadn’t found it in him to deny her.

She asked him to talk about what he could taste in the food she’s cooked. At first Matt was afraid to criticize but Foggy had started doing so herself. Once after a dinner Chicken Paprikash of all things, she asked if Matt sensed the yoghurt that used was close to getting bad. Matt tentatively had noted that it wasn’t rancid but it was definitely way past its prime days. Foggy wasn’t annoyed, instead she breaks the tension and laughing, jabbing about how horrible some parts about Matts senses must be. About the embarrassing things he’s had to endure.

To Matt’s surprise, the topic of his abilities became a favourite thing to talk about whenever they spent time together.

 “Are you saying everytime I found you staring into space in your room it was because you got contact high from your stoner neighbour 5 rooms away from your dorm?”

 Matt had groaned and dropped his forehead onto his folded arms in embarrassment. It was enough of an answer Foggy needed.

 “Oh my God, you turned them in! Matthew Michael Murdock you tattle tale”

 “It wouldn’t be such a problem if they didn’t get stoned every night. It was barely a secret anyway. The corridor reeked from it and personally I think I did a public service”

 “Did you snitch on me bringing snacks into the library too?”

 “No Foggy, that was all the crumbs you didn’t bother cleaning off your dress everytime we passed the librarian. She could probably smell the Cheeto dust on your fingers a mile away”

 “I knew it! You threw away my Cheetos stash didn’t you!”                              

 “They’re like cheese dust bombs! They were more chemicals than actual food. I did you a favour”

 “And here I was thinking Tanya was stealing them from my bag during civics”

 “The girl who sat beside you? Oh, she stole food from you all the time. You left your bag unzipped, it was inevitable”

 “And you never told me?!?!”

 “Most of the things you had in there were junk food. It’s no wonder you were on a sugar high all the time”

 “In my defence, Redbull and Twinkies are a perfectly good way to combat law school stress”

 “Oh god the Twinkies!”

 “Don’t you dare go after Twinkies!”

Just like that the tension brought from the elephant in the room that was Matts powers was broken. Foggy made a game out of Matt trying to guess all the ingredients she’s used on nights that she cooked. Matt had initially protested on the unfairness of it all but eventually stepped up to the challenge cause he’s a competitive bastard and Foggy knows it.

 “How am I supposed to know what kind of nuts you used in the Pad Thai??? I can barely afford anything other than ground nuts”

 “Excuses. You haven’t suggested anything else either”

 “I know you used Italian basil instead of Thai”

 “Whats the difference?”

 “Thai basil has a sharper taste”

 “And more expensive”

 “Authenticity is important. We don’t want to get sued for cultural appropriation and all”

 “Oh look at me, I’m Matt Murdock and I can only eat fancy organic Thai Basil”

 “It doesn’t matter, I won. Now give me my brownie Nelson!”

 “Bite me Murdock!”

Matt won 9 times out of 10. The game was rigged and they both knew it but they usually ended up splitting the last piece of whatever dessert they had for the night anyway so it was never really about winning. Not for either of them anyway. On nights when there were no sugary delicacies waiting for them after their meal, if Matt won, he got to pick what they did after dinner. Watch a show, listen to an audio-book, play games before he had to leave for the night for patrol. Foggy never complained except for an over exaggerated whine or two at Matts predictability.

It’s fun, intimate. They don’t just focus on the fun stuff either. Matt had wanted to get even more intimate. He was tired of carrying all his secrets and for once he was the one who took the leap to trust that foggy wouldn’t run.

So, one night Matt finds himself stumbling into Foggys apartment after patrol. It was closer and he had a concussion. He was surprised when Foggy didn’t freak out like he expected and actually knew how to handle the situation. Like she’d prepared for it. She got some lessons from Claire who owed her for helping Luke. She doesn’t talk about when she started doing it or why. Matt didn’t know if he was ready to hear the answer either.

 “You know, I could always keep my window unlocked. If you ever… ya know, need to come over”

 “I don’t want to wake you”

 “I always sleep late anyway and besides; I’d rather know you have somewhere to go if you need to then........”, Foggy trails off but Matt doesnt need to be a psychic to know where her thoughts had went.

 “I don’t want to make thing’s hard for you", he says back and they both know he didnt just mean waking her up late.

 “Matt, I want to.”, Foggy had said, firmly as she smoothed the Arnica cream over his newest bruise.

Her heart had beaten with a steady thud of truth, truth, truth.

It was comforting to know that Foggy wasn’t soaked in fear and disapproval the way she used to be before, and he did come over sometimes. Once or twice a week to get his ribs bandaged properly when they were bruised or some cuts stitched. Matt can tell Foggy’s nervous and queasy about the stitching but she soldiers on anyway and it reminds him of Maggie telling him how she had done the same for his dad when they were together and the similitude makes a roll of warmth coil around his insides like a soothing balm. It feels right.

He realizes when he gets home as is drifting off to sleep, that it’s not something he’s ever had with Elektra either.

 “Foggy, I need to tell you something”

 “Hmmm?”

 “About midland circle”

 “Matt-”

 “I need you to know, why I stayed. Why I didn’t try to come back.”

 “Matt, you don’t-“

 “Foggy please. I need to do this”

 “Ok Matty. Fire away"

 “It wasn’t about you, or Karen. Maybe that’s hard to believe. I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t selfish of me because it was. I hurt you. You gave me the suit and you trusted me and I let you down. But you have to know Foggy, it wasn’t because of you”

 Matt had ducked his head in shame

 “Truth is I wasn’t thinking about anything else at that moment. I’m impulsive, we both know that. You’ve always known that. I was so overwhelmed by the fact that she was alive that I-“

 He gulped.

 “Did I tell you how she died? The first time?”

 “No”

 “It was because of me. She took a knife to the chest for me and she died in my arms and it was my fault Foggy. It was my fault. The worst part is, she’d told me beforehand that she wanted to stay with me. She wanted to try and she died in my arms because of me. I heard her heartbeat stop and it was because of me and I couldn’t… I couldn’t move Foggy."

 He remembers feeling his eyes water, struggling to keep them from flowing into streams down his cheeks. But he couldn’t stop the way his voice choked.

 “And I heard her heart beat that day when I found out she was alive. The way she moved, the familiar scent of her and how warm she was whennever she was close. She was so alive and I was desperate to save her this time. When she refused to leave Midland, I couldn’t leave her behind. I couldn’t leave her alone. I couldn’t let her die because I couldn’t save her for the second time. I couldn’t foggy. Everything was falling apart around us but I held her and she was so alive. I couldn’t let that go. I’m sorry Foggy. I’m sorry I hurt you. But I can’t be sorry for staying with her”

 “Matt I’m not angry”

 He’d perked up at that.

 “I mean I was initially. Went through all 5 stages of grief. Thought a lot about beating you up if I ever saw you again. Blamed myself for letting you go. For not giving you a stronger reason to stay-”

 “Foggy-”

 “I understand why you did it now. But back then all I could think about was how you’d left me. You broke your promise and you left us and I kept having nightmares of how you were probably still alive and had just fucked off to god knows where with her. It took me too long to realize I’d rather you were alive then dead even if you had”

 “You had a right to say no when I asked for help. I stole your wallet. I took advantage of you the second I saw you again. It was a dick move on my part”

 “Oh, trust me, it definitely was and I’m not gonna let you forget that for a very long time. You owe me so many favors. But I got you back Matt. I’d asked for only one thing ever since I lost you and I got you back. How could I turn my back on that? You’re so good Matt. I know you don’t believe it but you are. Even if I was pissed, I knew you were doing things for a good reason. I knew it was because you were helping people and I’m a damned lowlife if I even thought of turning my back on that. I’m not angry at you Matt. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not gonna stomp off again if we get into another huge fight. But I can promise I’ll always try to come back. Maybe it’s not right for me to ask you to trust that. I know enough about your past to know that’s not an easy thing for you to do……...”

 “You’re the one person I trust the most, Foggy”

 “Karen-”

 “- is a good friend. But she hasn’t stuck around and followed me into making stupid decisions for the past ten years of my life. If there’s anything I regret, it’s not trusting you with my secrets. For hurting you with them. If there’s anything I’d redo it would be that”

 “We don’t know if I would’ve been open to accepting that back then. Heck, I don’t even know what I would’ve done if you did tell me. You had good reason to worry”

 “After everything, I should’ve taken the chance. There’s no one I trust more in this a world than you Foggy. Maybe that’s hard to believe considering how many promises I’ve broken. But I’m going to do everything I can to keep this one"

 “…… Thank you, Matt”

It had taken everything in him to admit it, but after all they’d been through. After all Foggy had given him. Foggy had earned the right to it. That part of him. He expects to feel fragile and small afterwards but instead he feels lighted. Just like before, it felt right. This was the path they were destined to be on. The path they both have worked hard for. Foggy had returned his vulnerable revelation by sidling up to him. Intertwining their fingers and leaning to the side to place a soft peck on his temple. Matt couldn’t find it in him to pull away. They stayed that way in silent comfort until they’d both nodded off. Her head fitted to the crook of his neck and Matt’s own resting on hers.

Matt had woken up first the next morning to Foggys head on his lap. A soft and unladylike snore whistling pass her lips and he remembers how it had annoyed him to no end through their first year of law school, on nights when Foggy had fallen asleep from exhaustion on Matt’s bed after a night of unending studying with him in his room. But after a while it had become a familiar comfort, accompanied by the beating thrum in her chest. An unexpected lullaby especially on nights when both of them were overwhelmed. Matt had a single room and Foggys roommate was never around, preferring to stay at her boyfriend’s place most nights. They switched between each other’s room every other night, more and more often but it never felt invasive.

Matt hopes Foggy knows how important her presence had been for him at the time.

He hadn’t attempted to wake her up that morning from her peaceful slumber even as his legs felt numb from the weight. Instead, and he stupidly hadn’t realized why he’d done it at the time, he found himself gliding his knuckles on her cheek, realizing in that moment how long it had been since they’d been this close. How much he had missed it. Touch starved in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while since they met.

This progress, this newly attained intimacy doesn’t stop. There is a relief in being able to talk to his best friend again about every part of him that he had always feared she wouldn’t accept. Not just about the heavy, things either. Even the small, minute, careless details.

To Foggys credit, she bares herself raw the same way he does.

 “How did you get so good at cooking?”

 “I take offence to that. I was always a talented cook”

 “Pancakes and grilled cheese sandwiches maybe.”

 “Hardy har. And you can boil an egg, good for you.”

 “Seriously, curry noodles? I didn’t think you even knew where the spice section was”

 “It was… it was actually after Midland. I couldn’t sleep sometimes and I’d stay up watching cooking channels and I gave in and just started actually making them myself. I started small but I got used to handling things after a while. It was actually… therapeutic”

 “Foggy…. I-“

 “Matt stop, seriously. I meant what I said. I’d rather have a life with you and all the adrenaline fueled bullshit, then a quiet life without you. Always. So, don’t worry, ok? We’re good. I promise”, Foggy had ended her little speech by reaching out to tap her fingers in a comforting rhythm on his knuckles and Matt had asked himself for the hundredth time since he got back, what he’d done to deserve such loyalty.

 “Also you’re washing the dishes and paying for lunch tomorrow”

 Matt had let out a burst of laughter, “Haven’t I been paying for lunch anyway?”

 “And you’ll keep paying for lunch until further notice. Besides, you’re getting a free home-cooked dinner almost every other night so I’m not going to hear a peep out of you”

 He’d raised his hands in a mollifying gesture, “No arguments here”

 “And none of that healthy stuff too”

 “Damn"

The catholic part of him that latched on to guilt too close, wasn’t satisfied. Not even close. He’d done too much, made too many mistakes. He didn’t deserve what Foggy and even Karen for that matter, were giving him. A step onto green grass that promised him sanity in exchange for something as simple as him pulling down his walls for them. To not push them away. And if that’s what Foggy asked for then Matt was going to teach himself to give it to her, even as he he itched from old habits to pull back behind said walls.

It takes 6 months for them to go through all the unsaid baggage that had been floating in the water like leftovers from crash created by their past mistakes. But at the end of it all, Foggy poked her head into his office again and told him to hurry up if he wanted her to do any actual cooking.

 “I feel like I’m being sabotaged”,

 “You don’t need me to do that”

 “Well, that’s not very helpful”

 “I mean, I didn’t tell you to try make dinner rolls from scratch, did I?”, Matt had said with a tone of faux pettiness.

 “That was not my fault! I didn’t know cats could smell the yeast all the way from the alley! Ruined a perfectly batch of dough. I spent 20 minutes kneading!”

 “I told you to close the window. Fair is fair, I didn’t know cats liked yeast either, I’ll give you that. So, what’s on the menu tonight?”

 “Well, you made Italian last week and I’ve been exchanging gossip with Mrs Yong for a while now….”

 “Getting tips from your Vietnamese neighbour is cheating”

 “Do you want to eat or not?”

 “I’m guessing Pad Thai?”

 “Couldn’t afford your oh so expensive cashews that you just have to have. Its Pho!! We are having Pho tonight! I spent 6 hours simmering a potful when I was going through the Jenner case last week and now, I’ve got enough frozen pho in my freezer to serve 8! I mean, I did have enough for 8. It’s more like 3 now. Maybe 3 and a half”

 “Is that what you were passing to Karen and Mrs Adli yesterday?”

 “Karen needs to eat more if she keeps spending her nights consorting with Jessica Jones. God knows what diet Jones is on. I gave Karen extra to pass to her so hopefully she’ll see it as incentive to keep giving us tips. We definitely can’t afford her”

 “I’m sure you can charm a few more favours out of her. And Mrs Adli?”

 “Oh yeah, her kids sick were with the flu and from what Mrs Yong told me, Pho has magical healing powers that can beat chicken soup any day”

 “You didn’t eat the rest, did you?”

“Boo hoo, shame on you. Unlike you, I know how to bribe our friends. I gave some to Claire and Brett. He looked like I was trying to poison him”  

 “To be fair you did once”

 “I was 5! He wanted to play Mommies and Daddies and I might have been overzealous about preparing dinner”

 “You know if he finds out you told me he’ll have you thrown in Rykers himself”

 “Which is why if you want any of that Pho yourself, you’ll keep yourself quiet you dick”

The air between them had turned so light and easy. Every morning Matt woke up beaming with joy at the simple thought of being able to just be with her so close throughout his day and every night he was lulled to sleep by the memories left from it.

There were no more walls. No more fear or doubt. Not with her. Not anymore.

  “I went to see Maggie today.”  

“Yeah? How is she? I haven’t met her yet”  

“She’s fine. She wanted to wish me Happy Birthday”  

“That sounds nice”  

 “Yeah……. She gave me her ring. The one my dad gave her. It was one of the few things she had from my dad and she wanted me to have it”

 Foggy had stayed silent for a moment before responding, “That was nice of her”

 “Yeah. It’s nothing fancy. Doesn’t have a diamond or anything. It’s just a smooth gold band. But she said my dad saved up for months to get it. It sounds just like him. She wanted to talk with me a bit longer but I just…. Couldn’t. I think I hurt her feelings when I left”

 “You don’t owe her anything Matt.”

 “It was rude”

 “Matt, hey, I need you to listen ok. I need you to listen to my heart. Are you listening?”

 Matt remembered how his throat had tightened so he had just nodded to the question.

 “I love you Matt. You’re my best friend. I will always love you. But you need to know, hey, listen buddy. You need to know that you never have to earn that from me. Not from me, not from Maggie, not from Stick, not from anybody”

 “I could’ve tried harder”

 “You shouldn’t have had to. You were just a kid”

 “Didn’t stop them from leaving”

 “And it was their fault, not yours. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

 “I’d asked them to make it stop.”

 “What?”

 “It was after Midland. There were two guys, trying to hijack a car. I couldn’t beat them so I asked them to make it stop. To just.. end it.... end me. It was so pathetic Foggy-”

 Mat hadn’t realized she’d moved from her seat until her arms were around him. Her grasp was gentle but Matt got the feeling that hell or heaven couldn’t tear her away no matter how hard they tried.

 She was on her knees beside him where he was sitting on the couch. One hand pulling his body to her chest and the other caressing the side of his head. Nose buried in his hair, whispering softly, “No Matty, no. Never. God, you’re so good Matt. So brave. So strong. It’s ok to not be sometimes. I’m here. I promise. I’m right here”

 For some reason, Matt had let out a startled laugh but he had felt something wet streaming down his face and suddenly he was choking on sobs. His own arms folded around her middle and he lets go. Lets himself sink into her, head buried into her shoulder, not thinking even for a second that it would be enough to cover up how loudly he was crying. But Foggy hadn’t said a word. Once upon a time he might have felt indignant at the idea of being so vulnerable with someone like that. He hadn’t been this open since Elektra and look how that turned out. Elektra herself had been different. He loved her. He still loves her. Loves how comfortable he felt in her presences. Unguarded and free.

 But unguarded and comfortable was different than allowing himself to feel and appear weak. To let someone see the broken and jagged pieces that made him who he was and not be afraid to be judged for it. Elektra never made him feel like home. At least not the kind of home his dad had given him as a kid. Safe. At ease.

 Loved.

  They fell asleep that night like that. Lying on the couch, Foggys arms wrapped around him tights and close. His head tucked in the dip of her clavicles. Curled into her and knowing with absolute certainty that she wouldn’t ever let him go.

Matt woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes and the annoying tap of Foggys fingers on his cheeks.

 “Wake up sleepyhead. The pancakes are getting cold and I don’t want to hear you whining about it”

 For a second Matt had refused to open his eyes even as the corner of his lips were pulled up.

 ��Five more minutes mom”

 “Very funny. Catch me making you breakfast again you ungrateful prick”

 Matt had let out a disgruntled groan but relented to push himself up with an over exaggerated stretch.

 “You owe me groceries for this”, Foggy sing songs, pushing a plate stacked with pancakes, dripping with an unhealthy amount of syrup just the way Matt liked it. It’s one of his most unhealthiest guilty pleasures but fuck him if every bite didn’t have him melt with sinful pleasure.

 “It’s the least you could do with how you had half my ass hanging off the couch last night”, Foggy continues as she digged into her own stack.

 “It’s not my fault your apartment is so warm. I was practically cooking”, Matt had clapped back but was half-hearted and said through a juvenile muffled mouthful of his breakfast.

 “Price of being the little spoon my friend”

 Matt indulged her with an eye roll but he’s much too distracted with his breakfast to keep up the banter. Foggy sneakily pushes the extra plate pancakes forward followed by the bottle of organic syrup that was way too obscenely expensive for her budget but so very worth it to see Matt light up animatedly with a child-like glee at the taste of it on his delicate taste buds.

 They had continued their banter a bit more over a steaming cup of coffee and all the while Matt realizes in that moment that he felt truly and incandescently happy with his life and where he was then compared to how where he was just six months before and a large part of it was because of Foggy.  Karens acceptance of him had been great. But foggy knew him more than anyone. It’s Foggy that despite their decade long friendship, he’d disappointed and hurt and let down over and over and the fact that Foggy was still there, a constant unerring affirmation of his worth. That if there was someone in his life that could love and stick around the way foggy had then life was definitely worth living no matter what it threw at him. Foggy who’d given something no one else had. Not even Elektra.  

Matt truly and utterly realize that Foggy at that moment, after so much time and effort on both their parts, truly knew him better now, more than anyone ever did. And with it Foggy had given him something he hasn’t felt since his dad died

And its not just the happiness. It’s a deep rooted and affection of what they have. Of what they’ve built through it all. . It’s a fondness. Its an appreciation. It’s a love that has driven right down to his core, so deep that its become part of his being. Its… wait… oh…. OH….. oh shit.

[2ndstar-ontheright]

“I’m Sorry..”

Fandom: Ginny & Georgia

Characters: Ginny, Georgia, Ellen, Clint, Marcus and Max. 

Words: 1513

Summary: Ginny and Marcus apologize and discovers that there’s more to him then meets the eye. 

Warning: Swearing, implied masturbation (it’s very slight though. More of a blink and you’ll miss it sort of thing.), dead character reference, parental caregiver terms (Ex: “Mama”). 

Author’s note: I know you're probably thinking, "WTH did I just read?" But hear me out! I wrote this because I wanted to give more depth to Marcus' character, and of course I had to do that with age regression. Hah! And to have him apologize since we didn't see that yet in the show. (Plus while watching the show I got some kind of vibe. Not really sure how or why, but I did for some reason.) Anyways, I'm planning on turning this into it's own fully fleshed-out story. And I would love to hear y'all's feedback and opinions in the comments. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! 

    Ginny was lying in bed, unable to sleep. Her mind was racing as she recalled the events of the past week. Breaking it off with Hunter, Marcus and his bullshit, Georgia (as always), and how she managed to push all her friends away over 2 dumb guys. She sighed, trying to take her mind off things, she picked up her toothbrush from her nightstand and slumped under the covers. “Great. Your life's falling apart and all you can think to do is masturbate? Lovely, Ginny. Just lovely”. As the brush slowly made its way down, she then had to go to the bathroom. Sighing even harder this time, she put the toothbrush back on her nightstand and left the room.

“Mom! It’s Marcus! Your idiot, stoner, “Kyle Scheible” wannabe son! Of course I’m pissed and betrayed as hell that my so-called “best friend” was cheating on her boyfriend with my brother! God! Everything is the worst!” Max equally signed and exclaimed to her parents, angry like a wakened bear. “Well I’m sorry! I’m sorry I don’t know anything because my kids don’t tell me shit anymore!” Ellen replied. “Well I’m telling you now mother dearest!” Max said, stomping up to her room. Slamming the door behind her, she flopped on her bed and scrolled through her pictures. She stopped when she saw a picture of the 4 of them together at the Sophomore Sleepover.“Ginny, why couldn’t you have just talked to me?” Her voice broke as she started to cry.

Downstairs, her parents discussed the situation and what they could do to help. “I just don’t get it Clint. Ginny is a good kid, much better than our own. If we're being honest. How are we gonna fix this?” Ellen asked her husband. “I don’t know dear. But, it’s probably best if we stay out of it. I think we can trust the kids to work it out themselves. Besides, all we can do is watch and intervene when it gets too serious, right?” Clint replied. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I love you.” “Anytime, Ellie. I love you too”.

Marcus crossed the street towards Ginny’s house in hopes of doing one thing, apologizing. If there was any time to do this, it was now. Hopefully. That day, after hearing what Ginny said he realized what he was doing. He finally broke things off with Padma, stating how he had been a dick to her and that she deserved better, to which she agreed. He took time to look at himself and think “Why? What’s wrong with you? Climbing up to the window he reached for the latch and lowered his hand. He instead climbed back down, knowing how inappropriate and weird his entrances are. “You’re not J.D, idiot.” He joked to himself, while inside he was terrified.

Hearing the door knock, Ginny went downstairs. She looked through the window and jumped. “Jesus fucking Christ. Why is he here?! And at the door of all places? Well, at least it’s not my window, ``she whispered. Her mind began racing again. She wished she could go back to her room, but now she could not. “Peach, who’s at the door?” Georgia called from the other room. She halted for a moment,”No one mom!” “Okay! I must’ve just been hearing things then. Aw shit! That means I’m gettin’ old!” “Georgia Miller’s one adversity, aging!” Ginny said. “Oh hush!” Georgia said, fake offended. Ginny sighed, opening the door. She leaned on the door frame, ready to face whatever was gonna come out of the teen’s mouth.

”What do you want, Marcus? Because frankly, I don’t want to hear it”. “Hey can we talk outside? Please? I just don’t want your mom to hear, if that’s ok?” “Yeah cuz she hasn’t heard everything already about us! But, whatever. I guess we can talk”, Ginny glared at him. “Look, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. You deserve so much better and should’ve just stayed out of everything..” “Yeah you should’ve. That would’ve helped. My life would have been a lot less shitty, y’know.” “I-I know..and I told Padma about everything a-and broke things off. I mean, it was the least I could do. And I’ve also started to evaluate myself and realize, I am an awful person. Like, what the hell dude? What’s your problem?” Marcus said.

Ginny looked at him surprised, “He actually went and acknowledged his mistakes? Huh, things are certainly changing for both him and I”, “I.. that’s.. I’m really proud of you Marcus. And yeah, you are an asshole, but I’m glad you took the time to realize that. Especially after all the things you went through.``''And I know that doesn't excuse what I did. Someone’s past or whatever they're going through doesn’t excuse them for doing something wrong, but thanks Ginny. I’m not asking for you to forgive me for what I did, I just want you to know that I am truly sorry. Also I’m seeing someone! I forgot their name, but they work with Abby’s Dad, I think. And after this, I’ll stay out of your way so I don’t hurt you or anyone else.” Marcus said, turning to leave.

Ginny gasped, “He’s truly pouring his heart out! He is sorry! Do I want to lose him? Cus I really don’t think I do” Her thoughts swirled in her head. “Marcus, I-I don’t know what to say. You’re right. But, I think that since you’ve taken the time to talk to someone and help you evaluate yourself, you know better than to play with people’s hearts. A-and I don’t want to lose you because you’re more than just hot. Y-you’re nice, introspective, and caring. I don't think I’m ever going to find someone who’s impacted my life like you. I-think I forgive you,” Ginny choked out, crying. “Wow..Seriously! Well, thanks Ginny! Is it okay if I hug you?” Marcus said, surprised. “Seriously. And yes! !”Ginny laughed. “Okay!” He said, wrapping his arms around her. After a minute had passed, Marcus took that as his cue to leave. “Well, I should go,” He said walking to her door. “Yeah. I’ll see you later, creep”. He smiled and left. And Ginny, for the first time in a while, felt relieved.

The next day, Ginny walked to the cafeteria hoping that her friends wouldn’t loathe her entirely. She planned on apologizing to them today for all that happened, especially to Hunter. She was about 5 feet away from the door and saw Marcus on the floor with his head buried in his arms. “Marcus? Are you okay?” She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Marcus had not had a good day so far. For one thing, Max was still mad at him, his head was screaming, he couldn’t stop thinking about his best friend, and he failed an english test. And his secret almost got revealed when he dropped all of his stuff on the floor trying to get into his locker. So yeah, you could say today was a shit day. So, when he went into the lunchroom and noticed all the people, he turned around back into the hall. For the second time in 12 hours he started to cry. And when Ginny asked him what was up, his head felt fuzzy and couldn’t say anything.

Ginny looked at him in concern waiting for him to answer. He looked up and she noticed his eyes were all red and puffy from crying, “I-I’m sow-sorry. I’m not supposed to... “Supposed to what?” “Be small!” He sobbed, hiding his face. “Aw buddy, it’s okay! But, can you explain? I don’t understand?”

He took a deep breath and began to explain, “So, ever since my y’know accident, my brain goes to this space where it’s kind of like I’m a little kid? Y’know? I know it’s-it’s weird. And ever since my best friend died, I feel a lot younger than I am. So, basically I’m a little kid when I have bad days or get really upset. Which explains what “being small” means, I guess”.

Ginny looked back at him processing this, and if she was being honest, it made a lot of sense. It was his way of dealing, and who was she to judge? “Well, that makes a lot of sense. And I’m guessing it helps, but why were you so upset to tell me?” “Because I was worried you were going to think I’m gross or more weird than I already am.” She chuckled, “You’re already one of the weirdest people I know Marcus. SO, there’s nothing you can do that can make you more weird to me. Now, quit crying! I’m not really in the mood for you to crash into a ditch again, y’know? Lol.” “Heh, yeah. Thanks Ginny.” “Anytime, Marcus. Now come on, the floor’s pretty gross.” She said, standing up and pulling him off the floor. “Okay, mama,” He said, feeling better than before. Ginny gushed and the 2 of them walked back into the cafeteria ready to face their friends.

[agl03]

Hi! Thanks for all your posts, they kept me up to date with AoS even after I stopped watching! And this is what I wanted to ask you about. I stopped watching through season 6 because the show had gone too violent and dramatic for me. I signed up for tasers and guns, not alien bats tearing people apart from inside. (I didn’t like much Season 5 either). I‘d like to tune in for the last season though. Do you think it’s going to keep this most recent tone, or is there a chance at something lighter?

Hi Anon,

Thanks so very much and I am glad that I could keep you up to date.   As a mom with children who watch the show I totally get your concerns about the violence and ick factor.  I have friends who are in earlier time zones that will warn me if there is something that requires a pillow shield for them.

So far the ickyest thing I’ve seen is the face stealing Machine the Chronicom baddies are sporting that can bee seen in their trailers and for me its okay.  Its not bloody and goes more into the sci fi realm.

And my overall feel is we won’t see as much of the “ewwwww” kind of moments and this season is going to be a mix of back to basics of Season 1/2 with a heavy dose of some Mad Science Season 4 (just none of that AIDA chopping up the Superior thing). More the futuristic realm/vibe we originally got off of Radcliffe.  I also feel that the writer will be bringing back a lot of the characters and elements that they and we have loved over the years.  That can be good lets say with lets say the team dealing with someone like General Stoner, I think he’ll be a hoot if he shows up (and I think he will).  But at the same time I think there is just as good of a chance of Robbie showing back up and with it they would bring a bit of his darker vibe with him while he’s there.  Or the drama factor if a visit to Aferlife brings Daisy face to face with her parents or Lincoln again.

With as many time periods as I have guessed they are heading for I also feel those lend to a little less of the icky violence and more of what the show started out with.

I do also feel that they will lean heavily on Deke for the comic relief element.  Especially when he’s with Mack or trying to impress Daisy.  While I see him being more serious/mature when he is working with Jemma based on how I think the roles in the different arcs play out.   And writers if you have blessed me with a Enoch, Deke, Hunter anything I will love you forever.

They are also not in that later time slot so that usually means a pull back in the violence, ick and sexy times as well.

If you are really concerned you can do what I do and let trusted friends warn you in a way that it doesn’t spoil the episode.  Usually they’ll tell me at the 24 minute mark have them look down.  Or wait to view the episode until the next day where you can get a feel here on Tumblr of how things went down.

I am very excited for this season.  With this take on time travel a bit lighter than the loop they were fighting last time that was dark, depressing, we saw where it lead, tore the team apart, and breaking it cost us so dearly.  This time its about hitting the different points in history and meeting some great new/old characters.

[buzzworddotie]

A little (not quite) Anxiety Ramble

Do something! Do SOMETHING! Don’t stop doing something!

Welcome to 2020.

It won’t stop, my brain will not shut off. We’ve been in lockdown for… to be honest off the top of my head I can’t even get dates right but I’ve been in isolation mode, working from home for about 4 weeks now maybe?

On week 2, I became more lethargic than I ever have in my life, I withdrew from any contact with other people, my brain was in a fog, I couldn’t focus. My muscles were tired and refusing to function and my energy was entirely zapped.

I managed to pull myself out of that by attempting to not guilt myself for eating that bowl of carb loaded cereal or allowing myself to rationalise that it’s OK to just watch a movie.

But here I find myself in that cloudy little place again. My anxiety is in such a way that my brain refuses to shut down and my motivation is becoming a precious commodity that I’m unsure of how exactly to keep it in a steady flow.

When the anxiety kicks in like this for me, I stress and worry about every and any thing. Things entirely out of my control, other people, how I am perceived, why I am not now or have ever been good enough for anything or anyone. 

My rational brain packs its bags and heads for the door as I stare in the mirror and hate everything I see looking back. My doubts, my insecurities, my shame - every dark little voice that can be mustered up gets louder and louder.

And so I overthink every action I make, I try too hard to impress a version of myself on people. I try too hard to force anyone who might give a shit that I am in fact OK! And you know there’s nothing saner than someone screaming “I’M OK!!” directly into another person's face manically.

Sleeping is the worst, or in my case not sleeping. It doesn’t matter how tired I may or may not be, I can be assured that as soon as I lay my head down that anxiety demon comes alive.

I cannot remember the last time I slept for a solid 7 - 8 hours. I can recall what it feels like to be at complete odds and ends at 4am because it’s happening every goddamn night!

Is this a symptom of what is happening in the world right now or is it just an exemplification of how screwed up I might actually be? These are the beautiful thoughts which haunt my brain in between scrolling through Twitter or Reddit, telling myself to not scroll through Twitter or Reddit and then, you know, casually reminding myself that I will never be good enough for whatever the fuck I think I should be good enough for!

I’ve always been a bit of an introverted extrovert, or am I an extroverted introvert? I’m not sure, the point is I’ve never had a problem being a bit “isolated”. I’m quite happy in my own company and just pondering about, in my own little world doing whatever silly things I decide to do with myself. However, that world of mine was always interrupted with everyday interactions - people I work with, the ability to visit someone and general activities which we just take for granted.

I’m starting to even question if I am as introverted as I liked to think I was at all! I told myself that being locked down wasn’t a big deal for me, not a massive shift in my life. I’m single, I live alone… Just a real wholesome and healthy picture there! “I’m OK!!!”

First World Problems.

One thing about me I’ve known since childhood is that I love my independence. I was told by my parents growing up I was the most independent of all my siblings. There is a sense of freedom that comes with independence and I think losing that is throwing me for a bit of a loop.

The freedom and independence to just make a decision to do something in the moment and being able to just do it. Even the smallest, stupidest of things like going for a browse in a shop. Such a boring and mundane activity but an activity that clearly ticked some kind of box for my mind.

Of course, I am wary of banging on about this word “freedom” but allow me to state, I do not mean freedom with the gusto of some hardcore, right wing, gun toting Murican (Or the Irish lady, she whom shall not be named… We all know).

No, I’m not trying to suggest my first world concept of freedom is being threatened on some conspiracy level, I accept the merit in the fact that for a period of time we have to do what’s best for the greater good. But jaysus, it’s not easy at times is it?

Without the fundamental freedoms which I take for granted as everyday life it’s as if my brain is being withheld vital nutrients for it to operate full steam ahead. Don’t get me wrong, this anxiety trip isn’t a new phenomenon for me, I know the bitch well, but I had such a great grip on things and I think the hardest part for a minute there was trying to figure out how I was allowing it all to spiral so ferociously when I know I have the tools to not do that.

It also bothers me because I am, by nature, incredibly laid back and positive. I flip between Energizer Bunny, Everything is Awesome and easily passing for a hippie stoner on my good days. So seeing myself behave erratically at times now makes me not recognise or like the person I am having to live with during this lockdown! Her neediness and desire to please is very, very off putting to me.

But maybe I just need to let her be a little bit, maybe I just need to let her know that it is fine. It is fine if a momentary lapse in the mind causes a mini freak out which embodies itself as wanting to just shut down, it is fine if she does just go a bit OTT at times with people to overly compensate for how weak and low she is feeling. It’s fine.

It is fine. Once you recognise that that’s all it is, it does not lessen your worth to behave in a way you might later regret and it does not lessen your value if you allow your insecurities or vulnerabilities to sneak through every now and then. You just have to hope that whoever is lucky enough to get the brunt of your vulnerability can appreciate the value in getting a taste of it at all. Because that right there, that vulnerability, that is a precious thing which is not afforded to many, if any at all. 

It is the most beautiful aspect of humanity, to be vulnerable. And it is really fucking hard to let go of. Vulnerability takes an incredible amount of strength, it’s a feather that keeps on floating through regardless of how much dirt and debris gets attached to weigh it down. It is delicate and strong all at the same time. 

And for me, it is terrifying to let that wall down. It feels frightening to think for a moment I let someone see weakness or gave a hint that I, with all my positivity and strength and being there for other people, could have a moment of weakness. It cracks the veneer of who I want to pretend I am.

Meet my friend, Anxiety.

Anxiety has been an under current which has existed within me since my childhood but something I only recognised as I began to get older and, yes, get help. Speaking to a professional allowed me the opportunity to begin to understand myself and learn about myself, gain self awareness.

Where I am now compared to where I was back then are completely opposed. At its worst, I was consumed by my anxiety and all the other little niggly things which tortured my brain. It all manifested in self-hate usually, maybe hate is a strong word but certainly a really strong dislike of myself! I would allow that to spin in circles in my mind until I was lost in it and trying to fix a million and one things about myself and others which really, was all very surface or non-existent.

The difference today is that I can, at last, recognise it. I can see the signs, at times I am deep within them and it takes a step back to shake it off and see it but at least I can find it within myself to rationalise and take that step back.

It doesn’t make it easy, there is nothing easy about managing mental health in the same sense there is nothing easy about managing physical health. If I want that toned stomach I will have to feel the burn and it has to work the same for mental health too!

Jesus, it is not easy at times. I will always remember an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race in which the contestant Katya suffered severely from debilitating anxiety. During a walk through Ru asked the Queen if she was, in fact, addicted to the anxiety. This registered with Katya and as time has gone by and that interaction replays in my own mind, I realise it often registers for me too.

When it is all you know, you can easily become all consumed by the anxiety, the worry, the stress and you can get sucked right down into it. And you can find a level of comfort within that discomfort, it’s recognisable and it can feel easier to submit yourself to it than seek out the light and pull yourself back from it.

When I break it down I can see the various triggers for my anxiety:

Opening up and being vulnerable = Opening myself up for rejection.

Feeling like I cannot help = Opening myself up for failure.

Failure, rejection = Not good enough. 

Attempting to improve and increase my self worth is really something that I never understood was such an issue for me, mostly because the concept of “self worth” was never something that even showed up on my radar. But guess what? It’s a thing! 

Self love is not about having an over inflated and delirious ego, it is about recognising that you do have worth as a human being. Recognise yourself as a human being.

Oh god, she’s going to talk about her childhood...

So, why is it that I may not have always recognised myself as a human being, worthy of care and love? Well, I will refrain from the details that will cause my very being to quiver but I was raised in a home in which I received a lot of love, but it was unstable. Arguments, raised voices, depression and a lack of seeing love between my parents. A tumultuous family backstory which, while I was not in existence for much of it, carried a heavy cloud over all proceedings. I was in existence for difficult times with siblings and parents who butted heads constantly. 

I was a witness, I was shielded from being on the receiving end for the most part but I still stayed awake at night waiting for things to take a turn for the worse. I jumped at nothing and everything, like a scared little mouse. I was reserved and private with friends, I held the problems into myself and did not expose anyone to it. 

As well as this, I faced a level of mental, physical and, like so many other girls and women out there, sexual abuse. I won’t delve into all the details but it seems like some sick, twisted joke that once you are forced to be subjected to this as a child, you do not recognise the issue with it which leaves you vulnerable for it again as you mature into an adult and set off on your own.

This is because your self worth has been destroyed. So when you see ladies coming to the fore as part of #MeToo or another movement, or no movement at all, don’t be so quick to judge. These ladies have likely held their tongue because their self worth has been so low that until they became exposed to others discussing it they didn’t even realise what had happened to them.

I won’t dwell too long on that, I could spend a long time dissecting it but it isn’t for now.

I will note, neither of my parents were responsible for that abuse. However, what my beautiful, kind and lovely parents were responsible for was me and as much as it absolutely kills me to have to admit, there were failings. Aside from generally being exposed to an unhappy home, as a child I was used to bridge the gap. Something which ran into my adulthood.

If my father was angry, upset or, as I now reflect and realise, in a spiral of depression it was my responsibility to pick him out of it. From a young age, I was the fixer - a tool to try to make things better. 

Until I actually discussed this with a professional I never saw the problem here, everything was normalised to me, but apparently not great! It’s a lot of pressure to put on a child!

Add into that a complex / chip on my shoulder of never being as good as an older sibling, whom I perceived as the ‘golden child’, feeling like I had to keep things hurting me hidden for fear of disrupting an already disruptive home for which I felt responsible for keeping the peace or holding together and well, you get yourself a nice little stew that is a recipe for absolute fucked up adulthood!

Honest Reflection.

How could I ever expect to grow into a well developed individual? The balance of genuine love I did receive from my parents is what I believe kept me from falling down an even more desperate track, a track which I pondered along on many occasions. A dark road with flickering lights where the allure of escape was often far too real.

However, my internal commentary of having to be responsible for others actually kept me from ending it on many occasions as I could not release the feeling of not wanting to let anyone down.

Jesus, unpack this shit and it’s an absolute shit show! But I don’t claim to be special or unique, the sad reality is how many people went through a similar journey or worse and are now in their early to mid adulthood and attempting to get to grips with it all. And that’s only if they managed to find the tools and resources to recognise it in the first place.

Recognise that 1. You are not mental and 2. You are not a terrible human being. 

I can’t speak to anyone else but clearly I have lacked the tools to manage or cope with my emotions. Anything outside of my control freaks me out and I lose the absolute run of myself! I panic, I seek out approval and validation and often in unhealthy ways. I have had eating disorders which I have been in denial about, I have drank too much, gone off the rails and slept with far too many people! 

What now? What triggered my writing, which has evidently turned into an unintentional essay about myself (fair play if you’ve made it this far, you’re a better person than me).

I recognised irrational behaviour and a deep dip in my mood as well as an increase of self critical behaviours. That was when I began writing, this is now the future, or present, or wait, is this inception? I’ve incepted myself, just know as you read now a couple of days have passed.

And it took those couple of days for the lightbulb to click on but better late than never! 

Let there be Light!

I began writing this aimlessly as a means to just put my thoughts down and that was a step in the direction of realising I had to do something. I am now slowly picking myself back up from it all.

First step, I went to the chemist and I just asked what can you give me for anxiety, I am not sleeping, I have not had a proper night sleep in close to two weeks or more - I asked for…… Help!

Gulp, scary, try it sometime.

The Pharmacist gave me a product called “Avena Sativa” (check it out). I added 20-30 drops to a little bit of water and it immediately relaxed and eased my mind. I took more before bed and baby, when I say I slept! Pure, deep, joyful sleep - all the z’s.

But wait, there’s more! Thinking I might as well hit this from all angles, I also grabbed some Vitamin D supplements and began retaking my B-12. I don’t know if one or all of these things did the trick but I can certainly feel the easing effects.

So that’s the taking stuff, but that isn’t all I did - Oh no, that would be too short for me!

I knew I really needed to hit this hard if I wanted to pull myself out of the hole I could eventually be down deep within. I’m a fan of meditation, I get that some skeptical people might huff it off as new age hippie nonsense or whatever, but it can work. Youtube has a host of wonderful meditation videos and for me, switching off from the world and onto one of those helps me massively. 

Additionally, I stopped hanging out of my phone, for the best part at least. I have a bit of anxiety with my phone (of course I do). I went through a period of time where my phone was a bearer of bad news, any phone call could have been bad news and eventually, it was. I realised I find it hard to let go of that, the idea that if I do not have my phone on me and with sound on 24/7 I risk not getting an important piece of news, I risk letting someone down or not being there as I should be.

Should = dangerous word. Don’t let ‘should’ govern your life or mind. Every ‘should’ is an expectation and additional level of stress you are putting on yourself. Best advice I received was to replace ‘I should’ with ‘I want to’ and see what the end result becomes.

Let’s wrap this up.

All in all, this is a time that can lead those susceptible to anxiety, and even those who are not typically, to find themselves in the mental trenches. It’s imperative to look at yourself from the outside and attempt to recognise what might be the deep rooted cause of what is effing you up. Do you really hate your body right now or is your self worth a bit low because of some other reason that deserves to be addressed?

Maybe consider going a bit easy on yourself? Don’t beat yourself up over that response or message that you regret. Don’t assume you can control others, just be yourself. Speak your truth at any given time and allow yourself that beautiful release of scary, scary vulnerability. 

Don’t run from it or beat yourself up over every and any little interaction or negative thought, give yourself a break and pull yourself out of the addiction of dark thoughts. Seek out help, ask for help - even if you are just asking yourself. Make healthy choices that will have a knock on effect of making you feel good about yourself or happy in your decision.

It is far from easy, but again, nothing worth having in this life is ever easy. But then the end result, when you push through and put in that effort - it is so, so very worth it to be able to have that moment of that day when you actually don’t doubt yourself or hate yourself.

I will keep motoring along with my own work and efforts and I ask that you do the same, if you find yourself in that dark place. Push through and don’t give up on yourself, you’re all you’ve got and that’s a pretty amazing thing to have.

[justanotherdeadgirlwalking]

That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part One.

Cynthia said I had to go to school today. “It’s your senior year Connor,” she said, “you can’t miss the first day,” which was just complete bullshit. I tried to compromise, “I’ll go tomorrow,” I told her. No, I had to go. Mom just wanted to get me out of the house after watching me sleep and sit in my room all summer. “Today’s a chance to go make some friends” she told me.

Look it’s not my fault that I don’t have any fucking friends, and it’s not my fault that I can’t make friends because everyone thinks of me as big, bad Connor Murphy, the freak. I’m not a freak. People just have this false idea of me in their head and have never taken the time to actually get to know me. I’ve always been a hot topic of rumors, even though I’ve never done anything really worth talking about. Except the incident in second grade. Someone explain to me why something so stupid that happened when I was 8 years old is something people still use to talk shit about me. It is still a story that gets told from time to time, “oh stay away from Connor Murphy, he’s batshit crazy. He once threw a printer at Mrs. G. because he didn’t get to be line leader” That’s not the whole story. No one knows what really happened because they weren’t even there. I mean, yes I was upset that I didn’t get to be line leader, even though it was my turn, and yes I did shove the table that the printer was on, which caused it to fall. So, I mean, I guess I threw the printer in a sense, but what does it matter? I was a child. Do you know how much embarrassing shit people did in elementary school that doesn’t get talked about because, well geez, they were children, and they’ve grown since then. Fucking Alana Beck peed her pants probably seven times that year, but we don’t talk about that. Whatever.

Most likely, no one is going to be telling that story this year. There’s some new hot gossip about me. See, I spent my junior year at a private school. It was awesome, I actually had a friend, and I was doing well, but I got kicked out. They did random locker searches, and I had weed in my locker, barley half a gram. The best part is, the weed wasn’t even mine. Not that anyone cares, not that anyone is going to ask, or listen to my side of the story. Ironically, they found so much Adderall, in probably 50 lockers, and they got away without so much as a warning. So, pills are okay, I guess, but marijuana isn’t.

Look, unlike what my parents might think, it isn’t dangerous or addicting or bad. Newsflash weed doesn’t hurt anyone. You can’t die from being too high, but pills, you can die from taking too many pills. I told them that too, I showed them statistics and research to convince them marijuana isn’t bad, they sent me to rehab to help with my ‘addiction,’ but all it did was teach me new, worse habits and prescriptions for mood stabilizers.

I’ve always been on medications to try to help me with the depression and paranoia, but I don’t like how they make me feel. Usually, I keep the pills hidden so Mom and Dad don’t catch on that I’m not taking them. I just prefer weed anyways; weed just calms me down, while the other crap I’ve been prescribed puts in a zombie like daze. I just smoke a little weed every now and then to help me get through the day.

People are going to say whatever they want, but I guess that it doesn’t help that I smell like pot anyways. That smell, no matter how many times you wash your clothes or spray your belongings with ferbreeze, never goes away. Regardless, I know I’m not the only stoner, not that I’m a stoner, but most people act like it’s a fucking personality trait to smoke. They’ll go online and post pictures of their bowls and blunts, thinking that they’re cool, but I’m a burnout freak because I smoke.

Despite my protests, I found myself in the passenger seat of Zoe’s car as she drove me to school. Some people might think it’s lame to be driven around by their little sister, but I fucking hate driving. I get too distracted, plus, other people drive like absolute nimrods. I got enough stress in my life, why add the stress of driving.

The first day of school is always a waste; you never do anything meaningful or important. People just spend the day catching up with friends, talking obnoxiously loud about their trip to Italy, or how they built houses for the homeless, and you just do ridiculous ice breakers and make nametags. It’s not like I’m going to learn anything, I’m just going to sit through hours of “two truths and a lie.” Plus, I’ll have to sit through the embarrassment of no one volunteering to guess which of my statements is the lie. No one wants to waste their time with that. Though, I will admit, I came up with some good ones this year, “My birthday is 420, I like to draw, and I have a dog.” The lie, obviously, is that I have a dog. I’ve always wanted one, but Larry has always said no, “they’re too messy.”

I try not to let other people bother me. I just focus my gaze straight ahead, walking as quick as I can to my first class, avoiding obstacles the best I can. In my opinion, people that stand in the middle of the hallway to have their conversation do not deserve rights. Hi, you, and your conversation is not more important than me trying to get to class. Have some fucking decency and at least move over to the side, Jesus Christ. On the bright side, people do tend to move out of my way. It might be out of fear, but it’s convenient. I put my head down as I cut through the middle of two people. “Hey Connor”  a boy calls, “Nice hair length,” he continues, “very ‘school-shooter’ chic.” Wow, was that really necessary; did they really have to stop me to tell me that? That’s what I need too: Connor Murphy, not only a freak, but also looks like a school shooter.

I stop in my tracks with a heavy thud as my boots hit the ground. I whip around to face the voice. I look up with a narrow gaze and see Jared Kleinman and Evan Hansen. They are two nobodies like me, but I guess they think they’re better than me.

“I was just kidding” Jared stutters, “It was a joke.”

“Oh, I know.” I say, with no emotion, “I thought it was funny, I’m laughing can’t you tell?” I close the space between us until I’m in his face, towering over him. I’m not a scary person, but I am 6’3”, so my height tends to intimidate people, plus I really like wearing all black. My physical appearance is really a shell of armor, no one knows how sensitive I really am. At least, people can’t walk all over me if they are scared of me. I stare him down, “Or am I not laughing hard enough for you” I say.

I found, that if you stare at someone long enough, they will leave you alone. Mostly, because they are creeped out. It must be working, because Jared takes a step back, “you’re such a freak,” he says as he turns to make a run for it.

Evan’s still standing there, laughing quietly to himself. “What the fuck are you laughing at” I snap at him.

“N-nothing” he stutters.

I turn to him, “do you think I’m a freak.” He’s still laughing to himself. “You’re the fucking freak,” I yell as shove him.

I pause for a moment, looking down at Evan, who is now on the ground. He looks scared, like really, scared. Does he think I’m going to beat him up? Has he been beaten up before? Who hurt him? I scan his body quickly; this kid is already in a cast. Great, I just pushed an injured kid. Maybe I really am a freak. What the fuck is wrong with me? I collect myself and quickly walk away. I don’t have time to deal with this. It’ll probably be a few hours before this goes around the school.

I make it to my locker, my eyes are still on Evan, who is still on the ground. He’s been on the ground for a while, surly he should’ve stood up by now. Fuck, did I break his legs? Zoe walks up to him and helps him up. He’s fine. I watch as Zoe talks to him for a few minutes. Even my own sister isn’t on my side. Thanks Zoe, I’ll remember that the next time you want me to cover for you when you sneak out. Mom and Dad might think I’m the fucked-up child, but they have no idea what kind of shit you get into.

Each class is a blur as I sit through hours of introductions. Finally, its time for lunch. I don’t have friends to sit with, and I don’t like to give people the satisfaction of watching me sit by myself, so usually I spend the period in the library. I’m safe among the stacks. Books can’t judge you, but they can be an escape from your fucked reality. I can’t find a place to sit in the main library, so I go in the back by the computers. There’s a kid talking on his phone, but I don’t think he’ll mind my presence. I find a seat in the corner and lose myself in a book.

Suddenly, I’m snapped back into reality when the printer goes off. It scared the shit out of me. I look at the paper the printer is spitting out, “Dear Evan Hansen” the top reads. I look over to see Evan hunched over a laptop, talking to himself. I don’t think this kid has any friends either, besides Jared, but Jared’s a dick. Evan isn’t a freak like me, but he’s just someone always in the background. Everyone knows who he is, but no one cares.

I should probably apologize to him about earlier.

I grab the paper and walk over to him, “Hey.” He looks up at me, startled. “So, what did you do to your arm anyways?” I ask him.

He looks down at is arm as if he’s confused as to what I’m talking about. “Oh”, he stammers “I fell out of a tree.”

I look at him, expecting him to say more, he doesn’t. “Well, that’s just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard” I tell him.

“I know,” he says.

I look at his cast, its blank. I guess it makes sense, since he doesn’t have any friends. “Hey, no one’s signed your cast yet; I will,” I say.

“No, no you don’t have to” Evan whines.

“Do you have a sharpie?” I ask. He stares at me for a moment before he starts digging in his backpack and pulls out a marker, handing it to me. I grab his arm, and he winces. I ignore that and write my name as large as I can along the side of his cast. I figure, no one else is probably going to sign it, so I might as well take up as much real-estate  as I can. “There,” I say, “now we can both pretend that we have friends.” Evan stares at his cast.

I remember that I still have his paper, “is this yours?” I ask, holding it out to him, “I found it on the printer, it says ‘Dear Evan Hansen,’ that’s you right?”

“Oh, that’s nothing, um, it’s stupid.” He tries to grab the paper from me, “It’s just an assignment”

I pull it out of his reach and look at it, my eyes land on Zoe’s name, “because there’s Zoe” I read aloud, “Did you write some freaky shit about my sister?”

“No, no” He stutters, trying to rip the paper out of my hand, “Why would I do that?”

“You wrote it because you knew I would find it” I snap, “So I would freak out and you can tell everyone that Connor Murphy is a fucking freak.”

“No” Evan cries.

I shove the paper into my pocket, “Fuck you” I say as I storm away.

I walk out of the library, and right out of the front door of the school. There’s still two periods left, but I don’t care, I’ve had enough of today. I keep walking, I don’t even know where I’m going. Eventually, when I’ve put enough distance between me and the school, I pause to pull out my headphones and put on some music. I don’t even care what I’m listening to, it just has to be loud enough to block out my thoughts.

I don’t feel bad about pushing Evan anymore; honestly that kid deserves way worse. He had to know I was in the room with him. No one is that oblivious to the world to not even notice that they’re not alone. Why would he write about my sister? Like does he have a weird fantasy about her that he just had to get down, and print out? Look buddy, most people keep their private thoughts in their head, where they belong.

I eventually reach a park, its oddly empty, but I guess all the children are still at school. I sit on a bench and throw my bag onto the ground, it rattles with impact. I pick it up to investigate the sound; I dig around until I find the source: a prescription bottle. I forgot that I had put my meds in here. I hold  the bottle and read the label, it’s good old Prozac. I have refused to take it ever since it was prescribed to me. If you look it up, it has so many warnings and side effects listed, it doesn’t even seem worth it. Like there’s a small chance this will make you feel better, but there’s an even bigger chance that it might kill you, or make you want to kill yourself. The irony! They give you the medicine because you think about killing yourself, but the medicine makes you want to actually kill yourself. Do doctors even care about you, or do they just write you a prescription, so you go away?

I’ve never taken a single dose of this medication, outside of the hospital where they basically force it down your throat, but now seems like a good time to. I feel so numb, what does it even matter, it’s supposed to help me right? I swallow a pill, dry, and then another, and another. I keep swallowing them until I run out of pills. I throw the empty bottle on to the ground. Suddenly, I have a killer headache; I can feel my heart pounding, thoughts are racing in my mind. I lay down on the bench and take a deep breath.

[thicctransboi]

A Last Confession? (Sam+ Grizz)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366624

prompt by: @casualcloudlighttrash on my Ao3

(This will be in Sam’s Point of View)

Summary: Sam and Grizz have been fighting non stop since Grizz came back from the exhibition. Sam has yet to tell Grizz the truth, and Grizz is feeling defeated and used. What will happen when Grizz falls ill, and Kelly and Gordie have to use a sub-par method, unsure whether or not it will save Grizz’s life?

Grizz stormed out of the room, I could physically feel the vibrations from the door slamming beneath my feet. We had been fighting nearly every day since Grizz got back from the exhibition; never seeming to reach a mutual understanding over the situation between Becca, Eden, and myself. I still hadn’t told him the truth yet, I needed to speak to Becca.

           Making my way downstairs, I found Becca sitting on the sofa, Eden in her arms, sleeping soundly. Becca looked worse for wear; her hair was wild and matted, thick bags hung underneath her eyes. “I finally got her to sleep.” Becca signed, a greatful yet tired smile written across her face.

           “I take it the food making machines are working better now then?”

She rolled her eyes at me, “I wish you’d stop calling them that, but yes. Those books were right, the massaging helped a lot. Thank you for that, by the way.”

I shuddered at the memory, “Don’t mention it. Literally.”

Becca raised an eyebrow at me, “Where did Grizz go? He stormed down the stairs then left out of the back, I heard the door slam.” Her one handed signing got her message across well enough, and I let out a sigh.

“He’s upset that I won’t tell him the details of our relationship, that brought Eden along. I guess a lot of the guys were giving him shit after they saw me kiss him, and he isn’t sure what to tell them. Apparently, the girls as well, keep making comments about everything.”

Becca sighed, “I trust Grizz, but what exactly is upsetting him? About our situation I mean.”

“He says he doesn’t know if he can trust me, if im not being honest to him. He says he feels like I’m in love with you, and that’s what brought Eden along. That the whole being ‘gay’ thing was a cover up.” I sighed, my hands fidgeting for a moment, “He doesn’t want to break up a family. Our family. I need to tell him the truth, Becca.”

She glanced down at Eden. “I trust him, like I said. But, if you tell him, he needs to know that this stays between the three of us. No one can know, especially not those stoner Guard assholes. That’s the last thing I need.” Her look was dead serious.

“He won’t, I’ll make sure of it.” I say, giving her a hopeful smile.

“Alright, fine. Go find him while Eden is still asleep.” Becca gave me a defeated smile, but a smile nonetheless.

I pulled out my phone, texting Grizz.

To Grizz: Hey, where are you? Need to talk.

Incoming text from Grizz: The garden, gathering the rest of the harvest.

           “He’s at the garden, gathering what’s left, you sure you’re okay for me to go?”

           Becca gave me a tired smile, letting her head fall back onto the sofa.

           I quickly shrugged on my coat and sneakers, making my way quietly out of the house and towards the garden. It was nearly nightfall now, the sun setting behind the New England skyline, blanketing the sky with shades of velvet purples and brilliant pinks.

***

           Arriving at the garden, I couldn’t spot Grizz anywhere. I tried texting, but no response. I checked the greenhouse, not there. I wove in between the empty vegitable beds until I saw him; Grizz was sprawled out on the ground, clutching his side and curled into the fetal position. A look of agony on his face. I felt my heart contract and my mind raced a mile a minute at the sight of him.

           “Grizz!” I exclaimed, running to his side. I crouched down next to him, “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong?”

           My heart shattered to pieces at the sight of his face scrunched up in pain. He pointed to his right side, “It’s my stomach. On the right. I think it might be my appendix, I’m not sure.”

           My heart suddenly jolted back to life as adrynaline coarsed through my veins; his appendix? We weren’t equipped for this.. I sure wasn’t. I immidaitely texted Becca.

To Becca: Call Kelly or Goride, call them both. Grizz needs help, he’s sick. It’s his stomach, right side. Hurry! At garden by mill. Send someone!

We waited another 10 minutes, unknowing that Becca had fallen asleep.

           He was crying in pain, his eyes spitting out tears. I could see him grunting and groaning in pain, clutching his right side for dear life as if it might subside the pain.

           “People are on their way, okay? I texted Becca.”

           Grizz clutched onto me with his free arm, forcing himself up into a sitting position. His jaw dropped, I could tell he was screaming. “Sam, you need to help me get up, I can’t sit here and wait.”

           My heart was racing as I worked my hardest to remain calm and read his lips. “I don’t want to hurt you..” I stammer out, feeling my words fumbling on my lips.

           “You have to, okay?”

           I sighed, rising to my feet and stepping behind Grizz, bending over and locking my arms beneath his arm pits. I lifted as gently as possible, feeling his back to rigid as I got him to his legs, quickly moving to his side to let him lean on me. His arm fell over my shoulder, the other clutched my hand as he put a substantial amount of weight on me.

“Okay, we need to get to the hospital. Gordie’s shift is there today so he’ll be there.” He signed to me with one hand, his lips moving too fast for me to read.

We walked for what seemed like years. Having to stop every few paces or so due to the amount of pain he was in.

Grizz patted my shoulder. “Sam, i might need you to carry me. I can’t walk anymore.” Grizz said, annouciating his words for me to understand him. His face was scrunched together in pain, and he was putting nearly all of his weight on me. I knew I had to carry him, no matter how difficult it may be. We were in town now, only a block away from the hospital.

I made quick work of picking Grizz up carefully, holding him bridal style as I hoisted him up into my arms. He burrowed his face into the crook of my neck, gripping onto me for dear life. The vibrations from his cries and sobs could be felt against my skin, and I wanted to cry as well. My back screamed at me to stop, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me. But I was determined to get Grizz help.

By the time I reached the hospital, I was drenched in sweat and Grizz was trembling in my grasp. Making my way to the front desk, I let out a shreek, the only way I could think of getting someones attention. I quickly caught sight of Gordie, an exasperated look on his face at the sight of his two new patients. 

“What happened?” Gordie asked, signing along with his words. 

“He collapsed! Get a wheelchair!” I shout, or tried to. 

Gordie disappeared behind a corridor momentarily, before running out, wheelchair in front of him. I carefully set Grizz in the chair, the look on his face was helpless. His skin looked ashen, almost green looking. 

I watched in silence as Gordie asked Grizz questions, Grizz answering with a tired expression, and myself unable to tell what they were saying. Confusion overwhelmed me, but not as much as my concern for Grizz. I watched as Gordie shoved a thermometer in between Grizz’s lips, murmuring incoherently to himself. I felt frustrated, I wanted to know what they were saying, but I couldn't read their lips; I couldn't hear them. 

I watched as Gordie picked up his cell phone and placed it to his ear, presumably calling Kelly. Grizz was nodding out, waking himself up by jolting in pain and clutching his side. I saw a figure rush from behind me, it was Kelly. They were both crowding him now, speaking to him, their backs turned. And their figures blocked his lips from my view. 

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” I yelled, frustrated. 

Gordie turned to me, “It sounds like its appendicitis. He has a fever of 104, so we need to bring that down. We’re going to get him a bed, and try to do some fluids.” 

I felt my heart drop to my ass, “Appendicitis? That’s like really serious! You need to do surgery!” 

Gordie’s face looked defeated as Kelly wheeled Grizz out of view. “We’re not Surgeons, Sam. While Kelly is getting an IV set up, I’m going to see what can be done, okay? Try to stay calm. Maybe go home? Grab him some clothes?” 

I shook my head, “No, im not leaving him.” 

***

Hours passed, and I felt hopeless. I sat in a chair at his bedside, watching as Kelly finally managed to put an IV in, giving him fluids and some pain killers to help with the pain and bring down his fever. He had been throwing up violently, but it had since subsided. For now. 

I felt a rush of relief when Gordie arrived in our little room, looking rather chipper considering the circumstances. 

“I have good news! I found out that sometimes, antibiotics can relieve appendicitis if the appendix hasn't ruptured completely. Kelly is getting them ready now.” 

“If? You said if? What happens if it did rupture?” 

Gordie’s face fell, “He could die... But, we should know in a couple of days if the antibiotics work-” 

“Die?!” I shout, cutting him off and rising to my feet, “No! No, we can’t just sit here and hope he doesn't die! I can’t do that!” 

Gordie approached me slowly, placing a hand on my shoulder, “We don't have another choice, Sam.” 

His gaze was stern, his large black eyes pleading with me to calm myself. He was right, we didn't have another choice. 

***

“Gordie!” I shouted, trying to hold Grizz’s head to the side as his body convulsed and tremored beneath my touch. 

Gordie and Kelly rushed into the room, Kelly toying around on the monitors and with the IV, Gordie holding Grizz down. Vomit spewed from his lips an onto his bedside, coating my jeans. But I didn't care, I needed him to get through this. 

“Come on, Grizz. Baby, you can do this, stay with me!” I pleaded. 

I saw my life flash before my eyes, not my past; but my future. I saw Grizz’s hands entertained with my own, a small red-headed toddler running around, stumbling on their chubby legs. I saw the sun rise, and set. My future hadn’t even begun, and it was coming to an end. 

I felt tears flow from my eyes at the sight of his temperature spiking to 105, his heart rate erratic. I was grasping on some emotion, dying to be released, and yet it didn't come. 

***

It had been 5 days and 6 nights. Or maybe it had been longer than that, I couldn't be sure. Grizz had been stable for two of those nights, but my mind held vexing images of the four previous nights of instability; vomiting, screaming in pain, temperature spikes, one seizure... Many had come to visit; Luke, Clarke, Ally, Will, Helena, even Becca and Eden. But, I remained in the same spot: Glued to the chair by his bedside. They had moved Grizz into a larger room on the third floor, a few accidents from a bad game of fugitive had lead to the emergency room being packed. The room had a pull out bed, but it was too far away from Grizz; so I had settled for the chair. Only rising for trips to the bathroom, that were always hasty, and once to scream out for someone to help ease Grizz’s tremors. 

So, here I sat; my body folded up awkwardly in the small chair, unmoving. All I could do was watch him. Stare at him. Study the steady rises and falls of his chest. I rubbed at my temples, arching my back to relieve some gained tension a series of cracks rippled up my spine. I couldn't remember when I had last eaten, let alone slept. I was sure I looked awful, nights without sleep and constantly in solitude. I ignored everyone’s offers, their questions, pleads. Perk of being deaf, I suppose. It made it easier to ignore others. 

Gordie said it would take three to five days to know if the antibiotics had worked. His vomiting had stopped, his tremors subsided. His skin, while still rather pale, was no longer green, his cheeks holding the faintest blush. He hadn’t opened his eyes in his two days of stableness. Kelly had told me it was his body recovering. Maybe, just maybe he was healing. 

I watched him, I wasn't sure of the day, nor the time anymore. Night, or day, it didn't matter.  I couldn't feel, nor speak. All I could do was think. And my thoughts were dangerous. If he died? I’d loose the one person, the only person, who’s ever reciprocated my feelings. The only person who made me feel safe. I’d loose my person. He was the only part of me that felt valid, that was real. 

The flutter of an eyelash. 

I could have sworn I had hallucinated it, convinced the lack of sleep had gotten to me. Then I saw it again, his eyelashes fluttering. I felt my heart skip a beat, the first time I had felt my heart at all. Like I had forgotten I was alive. 

And then, like sunrise, Grizz opened his eyes. And I held my breath. I watched as he stared up at the ceiling, his throat bobbing slightly as he took in his surroundings. His eyes landed on me, and I felt my heart stop. 

“Sam?” He croaked out, his lips hardly moving. But I knew what his lips looked like when he said my name. 

“I’m here.” I called out. 

His gaze caught mine finally, registering who he was seeing. “Come here.” He said, a small smile appearing on his face. 

I had no recollection of moving to his bed, nor the pain that shot through my body upon rising from my position. I took a moment, just to study him. Taking in his appearance. The color had returned to his cheeks, and the light had sparked again in his eyes. He was no longer sweating, nor short of breath. Moon shaped blue crescents sat beneath his large brown eyes, small embers of gold and cinnamon lining his chocolate brown orbs. 

“How are you feeling?” I rushed out, my eyes lingering on the monitor. His heart rate was normal. 

Grizz tapped my hand, “I’m okay.. Better, the pain is gone. Lay with me?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I murmured, letting my finger tips graze over the back of his hand. “I'm so sorry, Grizz.” 

He raised an eyebrow at me, “Sorry? What for? You didn't give me appendicitis, Sam.” 

“No but, we fought. If I hadn't upset you, maybe we could have gotten you help faster...” 

I felt the tears slipping from my eyes. 

“Hey, Sam, come here. Lay with me.” I settled besides him in the bed, carefully nestling into his side. 

I watched his lips as he spoke, “You didn’t cause this, Sam. I’m not angry with you. I’m just, confused I guess. Hurt.” 

“Eden isn't mine.” I blurted out. “Becca and I agreed to say I was the dad, because she didn't want anyone to know the real story behind it. Don't ask her either. She only told me I could tell you what I know, and what the truth is. We never slept together, I promise. I just had to protect my best friend. I’m so sorry, Grizz.” 

I saw relief wash over his features. “Thank you, for telling me the truth. I get it, why you did what you did. I’m sorry for overreacting.” 

I rested my head on his chest and breathed him in, letting my hands rub circles on his abdomen. I felt him tap my hand to get my attention. 

“Have you not left? This entire time?” Grizz asked. 

I shook my head, “I couldn't leave you. I.. I was so scared, Grizz. I thought I might loose you. And when I thought I might loose you, that killed me. I can’t.... I can’t loose you. I just can’t..” I found myself sobbing again, and Grizz ran soothing fingers through my hair. “I’m so sorry for everything. I was so pissed about the circumstances and everything. But when I realized that you could die? It killed me... I.. I love you. Please, don’t ever get sick like that on me again..” 

I let my face fall into his shirt, grasping onto him for dear life, as if if I let go, he might slip away again. 

I felt him nudge me, looking up I saw him signing one simple phrase, one that meant the world to me: I love you. 

I leant into kiss him, when I felt him turn his attention towards the door, it was Gordie and Kelly. I watched as they asked him a few questions, and Kelly took his temperature. 

“You don't have a fever anymore.. No more vomiting or anything. I think it worked!” 

A wave of relief washed over me. 

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/7/2018: WRONG TURN

This is SUCH. A GOOD MOVIE.

Although admittedly, my personal experience of this movie is so epic that I’m not  capable of being very nuanced about it.

I saw WRONG TURN when it came out in 2003, in a mall, in Memphis. It was during the third act of a cross-country road trip I took with @ladyphibes​, who on the last night of that college semester drove us to a Cramps show in Manhattan, then straight on to a Fangoria event in Burbank, to another Cramps show at a hootenanny in the desert, to the current location of the original TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE house in Kingsland TX, to New Orleans, where I very quickly ruined our single evening of gothy fun by becoming as drunk as I have ever been in my entire life before sundown. She patiently drove us to Graceland the following morning, and after that profoundly moving experience, we weren’t sure what to do with ourselves. She parked us on a Memphis street that was populated by bail-bonds places as far as the eye could see, including one whose sign bragged, “SERVING” THE PUBLIC SINCE 1972! Not really seeing the appeal of wandering around Beale Street with watered down drinks in whalebone containers, we decided to see what was playing at the movie theater in the nearest shopping mall. IDENTITY had just come out, as well as WRONG TURN. We expected IDENTITY to be interesting, and WRONG TURN to be probably kinda bad, but mindless fun in the best case scenario. As it turned out, the John Cusack-led wannabe mindfuck was almost intolerably pretentious, and the TEXAS CHAINSAW-ripoff-lookin’ slasher movie was AN ABSOLUTE DELIGHT. Perhaps even more to the local audience than it was to our yankee asses; every time there was a gag at the expense of WRONG TURN’s stranded urbanites, evil-sounding cackles would tumble down from the back of the theater, and my friend and I were reminded of who we were and where we were. We left the theater exhilarated, which was good since it was quite late, and we knew we probably shouldn’t sleep in the car on bail-bonds row. Around 3 or 4 in the morning, we passed into Arkansas in search of a rest stop. Sitting underneath the big WELCOME TO ARKANSAS highway sign was a huge, regal mountain lion, its eyes flashing in our headlights. Of course I was the only one who saw it, but it remains symbolic of that leg of the trip in my mind.

Anyway. WRONG TURN is real great. This time around, it was exactly as entertaining as I remembered it, which is very special in and of itself because my primary motivation for watching movies is not what you would call traditional entertainment. I most look forward to being frightened, saddened, or even offended. I want to have my boundaries pushed, I want to find out how I respond to frank torment, whether or not it falls within the definition of what you’d typically call horror. I don’t tend to go in for like, high-flying adventure, and action-y thrills and chills. Yet, this movie has all that in spades, and I’m just amazed by how well it works. As I’m sure you’ve roughly guessed, the movie concerns a gang of callow, care-free cityslickers, plus a stuck-up money-grubbing doctor, who find themselves marooned deep in the wilds of West Virginia. Naturally, they’re presently pursued by a family of chromosomally impaired cannibals until only the fittest survive. WRONG TURN is unbelievably well-paced, with scenes of grueling torture (physical, thanks to Stan Winston, and psychical, thanks to writer Alan McElroy...who made his debut with HALLOWEEN 4??) that are kept buoyant by an absolutely relentless sense of suspense. More than that, even though this is basically a one-set proposition, director Rob Schmidt makes our heroes’ journey through the primordial forest colorful and engaging. We move from acrophobia-inducing mountain ranges to an astounding chase scene through the interwoven limbs of country pines. I barely understand how that particular stretch works; the audience only sees so much of this three-dimensional chase scene, but it still has to make sense, so the production needs to have a rendering of how those trees are situated across all axes in order to make it all convincing and not confusing, and...it’s just amazing. WRONG TURN is an incredibly entertaining, action-packed movie, that even a killjoy like myself is forced to appreciate.

...but don’t think I haven’t found an irritatingly angsty subtext for this movie! The thing that makes all these cheap thrills stick for me is the characterization of the two leads, Desmond Harrington and Eliza Dushku. Ordinarily, in a slasher movie like this, people survive because they’re so pure of heart. They don’t participate in any vices, or contribute to any societal ills. It won’t surprise anyone when the first people to get bumped off are a couple of stoners who refuse to help with the hunt for a payphone, but our remaining contestants are: 

- A woman who is the witless cause of this whole mess, because she couldn’t maintain her last relationship and her friends are trying to cheer her up with a camping trip;

- A doctor who finds himself stranded with these strangers because he has been breaking all kinds of traffic laws trying to make it to a lucrative business meeting;

- A man and a woman who are really, deeply, sincerely in love, and looking forward to their wedding (including Jeremy Sisto, who is doing a really open impression of Jeff Goldblum, but it’s so ridiculous you kind of have to forgive him).

So, you’d think the greedy corporate jerk, or the sexually dysfunctional woman might be the next to bite it. But you’d think wrong, because the world of WRONG TURN is one in which pragmatism and self-serving survival instincts are the most rewarded human qualities. The demise of the lovers is unusually painful and unfair-seeming, and I appreciate that too--but I really enjoy the ultimate success of the non-couple characters, who are such a pair of cold fish. They seem to form an early, understanding bond with one another, but nothing physical ever comes of it; there is no kiss, no tryst in the romantic hideaway they discover behind a waterfall. Desmond Harrington and Eliza Dushku get along because they know about survival and mortality, and how the arbitrariness of life degrades even our most deeply fetishized ideals, like “true love”. It’s a wonderful feeling, not to feel so condescendingly jacked off by a movie in the name of nonsense virtues like innocence and sentimentality. Even if this all sounds absolutely harrowing--well, it will be! But I want to insist that uninitiated viewers give it a shot. WRONG TURN is blackstrap molasses and wheatgerm bread for the soul.

PS We went to a third Cramps show on that trip, I thought in Illinois, I just forget exactly how it fit in. 

[ilovejevsjeans]

Ricciardo's 'ballsy' move: 'My instinct was telling me it was right'

The plane stopped climbing, the seatbelt sign extinguished, and Daniel Ricciardo exhaled for what felt like the first time in months. The Australian formula one ace was on his way from London to Los Angeles to meet some mates for a mid-season break, and was finally on his own time. No commitments, no fans, no media, no hangers-on. It was the headspace he'd been craving.

Out of contract at the end of 2018 and set to become an F1 free agent for the first time, Ricciardo had been determined to explore every option, even as the speculation over his future intensified by each passing month, and against the backdrop of teammate Max Verstappen committing to Red Bull Racing on a big-money deal until the end of 2020 last October. But the clock was ticking, and the 10 hours crossing the Atlantic gave him pause for thought. It was time to shake things up.

Earlier this month, Ricciardo dropped the bombshell that he'd be leaving Red Bull, home to all seven of his F1 wins since joining the team as the successor to compatriot Mark Webber in 2014, to join Renault, the French manufacturer ramping up its involvement in the sport as constructor in its own right in addition to being a supplier of engines to multiple teams, including Red Bull. It was a move few, certainly not Ricciardo's current employers, saw coming.

Leaving a race-winning team to move to a midfield outfit with aspirations of reprising its most recent glory days of 2005-06 with Fernando Alonso is, Ricciardo admits, "ballsy". But the 29-year-old feels it's a move that's necessary, both personally and professionally.

"I think a lot of people expected me to take the soft option and stay because they see me as a soft guy," Ricciardo told Fairfax Media in an exclusive interview.

"I'm maybe perceived as someone who is a friendly guy who wouldn't push back and make a big decision. It's good for everyone to see that I have the balls to make a call like this."

For most of 2018, much of the speculation over Ricciardo's future focused on Mercedes and Ferrari if he was to leave the only F1 family he's ever known. His five seasons at Red Bull Racing follow a two-year apprenticeship at its sister team, Toro Rosso. Mercedes has been the sport's dominant team since F1 switched to V6 turbo hybrid engines in 2014, while Ferrari, with Sebastian Vettel leading its charge, seemed the squad most likely to knock Mercedes from its perch. But doors that could have flapped open never quite came ajar.

As Ferrari dithered over whether to retain Vettel's 38-year-old teammate Kimi Raikkonen or promote promising young Monegasque driver Charles Leclerc, Mercedes elected to re-sign Valtteri Bottas to play support act to world champion Lewis Hamilton for a third season in 2019.

With a bottleneck at the top two teams, most expected Ricciardo to stay with Red Bull, where he's demonstrated an ability to win multiple races in machinery that, in his tenure, has never been capable of a championship push. But a surprise player came onto the scene in the immediate aftermath of Ricciardo's second win this season, around the streets of Monaco.

"Renault first expressed some interest around then, with Cyril [Abiteboul, Renault F1 managing director] contacting Glenn [Beavis, Ricciardo's manager]," he says.

"There were several options. I spoke to Renault, I had a couple of meetings with McLaren, and I got to speak with [Red Bull company founder] Dietrich [Mateschitz] in Barcelona and again in Austria.

"Initially, I had it in my mind that I'd be staying [at Red Bull]. But the more I thought about starting something different and taking on a new challenge, I got excited. I met with Renault and got a sense for their long-term plan. Obviously I want to win tomorrow, but the strength of Ferrari and Mercedes at the moment means it's very hard for anyone to take them on in the short-term."

Ricciardo says Renault didn't promise him the earth – in fact, the French team did quite the opposite.

"The thing that struck me about Renault was that they were prepared to be honest," he says.

"Straight away, they said 'we're not going to be quicker than Red Bull next year', but what they told me about their plans for 2020 and for when the next rule changes come in for '21 … they had some good structure in place, they're recruiting a lot of good key people, and they're preparing to win. They have a winning mentality and a realistic way of going about it, which I liked."

As Renault's approach became more serious, Ricciardo still had a two-year deal from Red Bull on the table, but something about the thought of standing pat didn’t feel quite right.

"There's been times this year that I've felt exhausted, maybe a bit jaded, and for the first time in my career, not completely enjoying F1," Ricciardo admits.

"There's been times when I've thought 'this is why [2016 world champion Nico] Rosberg retired', and he had it a lot more intense than me. Or why Casey Stoner retired from MotoGP very young. I can see how you could feel burnt out or a bit over it.

"I pushed for a one-year deal, which Red Bull agreed to, but still in the back of my mind, I wasn't sure. What if I was in the same position, had the same feeling a year from now? Would there still be other options available? I didn't want to snooker myself."

Renault set a deadline for Ricciardo to accept its two-year deal over the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend in late July, but he needed more time to ponder his options.

"Renault wanted an answer in Budapest, and the Red Bull offer was still there," he says.

"There was too much going on, so I managed to buy a few more days. But I had to make a call."

Three days after that race weekend, Ricciardo was in London, bound for LA, and with a decision to make. He'd been on the phone to his manager right up until his flight boarded.

"For the first time in I can't remember how long, I had 10 hours to myself, didn't need to be at a race weekend, didn’t need to be at an event, and I was on my own time," Ricciardo says.

"There was something about being alone on that flight that gave me the clarity I needed. The one thing I kept coming back to was being energised again, wanting a new challenge, and that the chance to change excited me. So as we got phone signal as I was coming into LA, I called Glenn and told him it was Renault."

Ricciardo met his three friends in LA, and as the quartet headed to Las Vegas for the weekend, spent most of the four-hour drive on the phone.

"The others all went out when we got to Vegas, but I stayed in the hotel because of how exhausted I was," he says.

"The next morning, I called [Red Bull motorsport adviser] Helmut [Marko] and then [team principal] Christian [Horner]. Helmut said he wasn't too surprised, that he expected it in a way. He said he had a feeling that I wanted to move on. Christian, at first anyway, thought I was taking the piss.

"After I'd made those calls, I felt like a big weight had come off my shoulders straight away. They weren't easy calls to make. But my instinct was telling me it was right. My gut feel was telling me it was right. I was waiting to have that feeling the whole way through the process as it went for months, and I got it for the first time on that flight to LA. When I finished that last phone call and it was done, I knew. I turned my phone off and left it in the hotel safe for three days …"

Ricciardo says the decision to leave is "one of the toughest" he's made in life, not just his racing career.

"It's been a 10-year journey with Red Bull. I was in their junior program in 2008, so amazing memories and things I'll always be grateful for, and things I'll never forget," he says.

"I'm sad to move on, absolutely, but excited by the challenge at Renault. Personally I felt it was good for me to have a fresh start somewhere else, I think it will be healthy.

"I've been pretty stressed all year, and now life feels pretty stress-free." (X)

[hxlding-on-blog]

hey so youve watched the guy who didnt like musicals right? (if you havent, you should!) well theres this song called 'not your seed' and i was wondering how would peter feel if may was in that situation?

Random Asks || ANONYMOUS

“May?” 

His little girl steps out from the shadows of the school theatre, body obviously moving against her own will and yet there was no attempts in holding it back. Peter steps closer, though she speaks again and he suddenly can’t move anymore. The infection had spread all over New York by now but Peter hoped- he prayed- that she would ( by some miraculous chance ) be able to escape. That she’d run from the grasp of the disease that swept throughout the city, but no amount of sheer willpower could’ve stopped this.

“It’s all your fault.” She steps closer, pointing towards her father, eyes lifeless and cold; there was something in Peter that shattered, that tore apart and fell to the floor, his body shaking as she continued to speak in a familiar voice and yet the tone was clearly not his daughter. It took everything in Peter not to cry and, even then, tears slipped past; it didn’t take long before he was bawling and tried his best to reach out to her. “That’s the last thought I had before they broke down the door.“

“I’m not your girl anymore. I’m not that tween that you drove here for. I’m not your girl anymore. I overtook her body with an infectious spore.” Her voice was harmonious, each pitch perfect and in tune with sounds that made up a backing track, the spider pacing around May as he attempted to asses the situation. Without hitch in her song, she continued to sing; tears continued to flow down her father’s face but she didn’t stop, body moving in accordance to her lyrics. “You left me out of your sight for one second- and look what happens- Nightmare time! It’s worse than you could imagine- not sex and not drugs. Just aliens invading minds!”

As she continued to dance something akin to a musical number, Peter helplessly paced about some more, wanting to speak up and yet holding back as he hoped that maybe- just maybe- she could fight back against the will of the creature infecting her. But nothing about her changed as she continued onwards.“No more family vacays together‘cause your only daughter’s under the weather, and if you actually paid attention to me- You’d see- I’m not your seed!”

“May, what’s going on?” He attempted to speak out, hands reaching towards her but unable to touch; he was afraid he’d do something harsh, or scare her, or make things worse. But what that did was give the infection more means of control, still in control of her. And Peter shuffled awkwardly, placing his hands on her shoulders, attempting to shake her out of the grasp of that mind controlling creature. “I’m not your angsty teen!”

“May, I-I’m here to take you home.” There’s a moment Peter restrains himself, not wanting to waste his time on a fruitless task, but there was a section within him that said she could make it. That she could fight against this, that she could win; there was another part that said she’d never get through it. He had hope in his heart that May could come out victorious, but the creature showed no signs of relenting. “No matter what you believe, the apple’s fallen far from the tree.”

“It’s not my fault anymore. No more curfews to be late for. It’s not my fault anymore- no more being worried and waiting by the door.” She hunches over, as if about to throw up, but she instead continues to sing; Peter moves to catch her if she were to fall but, when notes come out instead of an infectious mass, Peter recoils and stares with wide eyes, unable to help. “Did you know that I wanted to live with you?”

As if on command, two other teens reveal themselves from the dark- her girlfriend and her best friend. The hive mind of the creature infecting them all connects to the sounds in the atmosphere, singing backup, Peter’s pacing quickening and attempting to reach out- yet again- to his little girl.

“Look what happens, nightmare time!” 

“And when you needed to fight, you gave him that too-” It was like she was taunting him, showing him what he’d lost, what he’d never gain back, what he’d held so precious and dear only to never see again. The fight they’d had earlier in the morning was now an aching stab to his chest; he shouldn’t have spoken up about anything but, maybe, his attempts at stopping her from going out on a dangerous mission caused this. If he hadn’t fought with her, maybe he wouldn’t have lost her like everyone else in his life. “Did you know dad let Kate sleep over?”

“What?” His split with Eddie was for the best; at least, for Eddie. It ached him down to his soul to do that but, if it meant nobody would harm either him or V, it sufficed. It meant May’s weekends were spent with them but, since the divorce, he’d felt this underlying gut instinct that May preferred Eddie over him. He wasn’t in this for competition- he loved them all dearly- but something hurt about hearing of what Eddie did that Peter didn’t. It made him feel like he wasn’t doing enough. “And you’re wrong about Kate- She’s a hardcore stoner.”

He knew for a fact at this point that the creature was spouting lies to get to him, though it still stung; as her father, it was his duty to keep her safe. It was his duty to keep her away from the horrible aspects of humanity. The mere idea that he had failed had his stomach churning and hands turning into fists. This isn’t his daughter, he knew that well, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept that truth. “You’re lying!” 

“And if you wonder what led your daughter astray- Well daddy wasn’t here to save- Not your seed!”

“Not your seed.”

“May, whatever I said this morning, I’m sorry-”

“I’m not your perfect teen!”

“Perfect teen-”

“You can break out of it- I know-I know you can!” No amount of convincing would stop Peter, would tell him he had nothing to save; he needed to be shown and his faith was dwindling by the second. Despite his attempts- shaking her, speaking, pacing around- she wouldn’t snap out of it. She couldn’t. But Peter wasn’t about to give up- she had to still be there, he knew it. “I’m fucking seventeen! At least, I was before you left me.”

A gut-churning voice told him to leave, to give up, that the meagre attempts would not be worth it. His daughter was gone; whatever infected her, it wasn’t going to let go, but neither was Peter. She stands quietly, an awkward silence, before she spoke again. She stood in a spotlight, as if planned, but he knew well it was the creature doing what it did best. “M-May?”

“Why does it hurt to love you? Why am I in pain? Why does it hurt to know you? You let me down again.  If I turned my insides out, would you even know that I was there? Why does it hurt to love you… Why does it hurt to love…”

And for a split second, he believes the change in tone is a cry of help from his daughter, a sign that she’s still alive in there, a momentary flash of hope! Before the pillar is smashed down again and her body quickens up in its movements again, only to regain composure as a mind-controlled musical character. “I’m not your seed!

“Not your girl, not your girl-”

“Now maybe you’ll listen to me!”

“Listen to me, listen to me-”

“I’m sure you’d let me bleed!”

“Let me bleed-” 

“Now your daughter’s not a girl no more!”

“Girl no more, girl no more-”

“Not at all your seed!”

Again, it’s silent for a brief moment, Peter sniffling the only sound in the room. And yet, he doesn’t reach out anymore. Instead, he stares blankly at May, attempting to collect his thoughts. He can’t do this- he can’t live in a world without his daughter- this was not his daughter. The second a note left her mouth, she was never his daughter. And yet, he couldn’t do anything about it- she was infected, she was gone, and it was Peter’s fault again.

Everything was Peter’s fault- her first gunshot wound, his divorce, her infection with the creature affecting all of New York.

Peter’s. Fault.

“I’m not your girl anymore.”

[lighthouseofthewanderess]

Self-love

I don’t think I’ve met a single person who’s learnt to love themselves without learning it the hard way first. And I know that there are still many who are yet to be blessed with the wisdom to realize what self love can do. It’s almost like someone built a world for you before you were even born, confining you to ages of repetition, deciding what you can and cannot do. God forbid you start straying into the journey of finding yourself, then would follow lectures in hope of ‘getting you back on track’. While pressures of the society is something we all have to live with, doing that without loving yourself makes the whole ordeal, harder. And I refuse to have anything pre-defined for me, except my name. Well, maybe not my name either. In its entirety, my name has 29 alphabets -- Priyadarshini Balasubramanian. As a South Indian, I took the name of my dad as my last name. Till date I don’t know if it ends with a ‘m’ or and ‘n’. Does it even matter? Whenever I hear this long name, I feel heavy. I absolutely hate it. I don’t believe it matches my identity at all. My mom launched into an explanation of how she named me ‘Priyadarshini’ so that people can all me ‘Darshini’. Well, screw that. She also said it was borrowed from Indira Gandhi’s middle name -- Priyadarshini . Screw that too. I’m not a celebrity, I’m not nobel. I’m simply me, and this was way too long a name. Longer than the English alphabet. So when people in US couldn’t pronounce my name for nuts (how can I blame them) the Principal politely suggested a shorter name. “Just for the schools here” she stressed, as if it is their shortcoming. I gladly welcomed that opportunity and snipped both the names. At the end what we had was  -- Priya Bala. A short, self-made name for a self-made woman. Works. So when my prefect badge had my whole ugly name crunched on it, I marched up to the principal and made a deal. No one’s taking me away from me. It also made me feel like I had something to live up to. While Priyadarshini meant personification of love, Priya just meant love. It was a lesser burden. I wasn’t going to embody all the good, personify it. I was just going to action the word out. And as a verb carried out by a human, it was okay flaw while loving. This I can live with, I told myself. Problem is, for the longest time, I considered the whole act of loving as something you do for the world and the people in this world. And life tried so hard to show me it wasn’t others you need to seek love in return from, it is from yourself. From within.

I remember in school, I had a friend called Megha. I considered her my best friend. Looking back at it, I don’t even know what led me to that conclusion. One day, we both had bunked our classes and were walking around the campus. I cherished these one-on-one conversations with people; it made me feel real important and wanted. But soon, a gang of boys (who were also her friends) came by and I took three steps back. No boys rule. She quickly came over to me afterwards and said “I’ll be right back, they’re calling me for a game.” I nodded enthusiastically. Love is patient. Love can wait. I waited. And waited. The bell rang, lunch hour was upon me, and still no sign of Megha. Here’s where there’s a fork in the road. If you love yourself even a little, you would be able to brush it off; chalk it to the other person being well, a person, and walk away. But if you all you’ve done is pull out oodles of love, stuff it into people’s heart, and expect their validation, then you’re in for trouble. Like the little me now. I went spiraling in my thoughts wondering if I was a bad friend, if I wasn’t loyal enough. Why did she even want to leave me alone in the first place. The thought killed me for a few hours and when I met her again, I was struck with agony to see she wasn’t even sorry. It wasn’t her fault. It was my inability to let things go. That I cannot expect things just because I gave some love. Love isn’t a transaction. It isn’t a process. I smiled, I hugged her, we forgot it. Inside, I told myself not to love anyone too much.

But it kept happening. And whenever it did, I pointed fingers at myself. The birthday party where I invited 3 people and only two turned up. Wasn’t I good enough? The day people made decisions without even asking me if I was okay with it. Did I not matter to them? The family gathering where I ended up singing carnatic music just because I was taking classes. Why did they force me even after I said no? I saw the pattern. I went out of my way to make others happy; I did things I regretted. I didn’t know any other way. Then there came a day when I that changed. It was only a small instance, but I learned a great deal from it. Whether it was mom, my then lover, or friends, the rule was simple -- does it work for me? It went like this.

I was at a party. Sitting there, plastering a smile on my face, having shots because it was what everyone was telling me to do. The conversation was boring. Over some hostel story that I didn’t want to know, didn’t have anything to contribute to. It looked like the only thing that kept me there was the fact that I had said yes to being there. And so, in the middle of it all, I felt like I was done. I got up to go. I put some money on the table and said they were all assholes for forcing me into their idea of fun. How stupid. But it felt good to have my opinion on my table. I knew I probably won’t see them again, and I was happy for that. I didn’t wait for them to stop me, and they didn’t either. I rode home feeling lighter, smiling to myself at the signals for doing what I wanted instead of going along with someone’s plan. I got home, made myself a nice meal and plonked with my laptop. Watched a horror movie, slept, danced around with a tea cup in the evening, and read a book basking in the sunset. The day had just turned out fabulous. And it was because I had got up and chose myself over them.

After that, I went on a detox. Don’t be wrong to think it had to do with food. I did a complete cleanse of my friend circle. I stopped meeting people who were okay if I tagged along. I sent a message out there into the universe that my time was precious. If they wanted me around, they better let me know instead of me assuming and randomly showing up. I deleted people off Facebook. I stopped responding to pointless forwards and engaging in small talk. My words were precious. If I was to spend it on you, you better know you’re important. My circle dwindled to people I can count on my fingers. And that was okay. They were all people who took me in because they valued me for me. I am flawed, I snap when hungry or just the same when I’m normal. I cross lines when drunk, say what’s on my mind. I frown when I work, I sit silent on group discussions observing people. I bring my bike whenever I come to meet you just so that I have an escape plan if things don’t go well. I always have an escape plan. I don’t contribute to conversations that involve history, politics, or celebrities. I know a very few things in life, but I’m willing to learn. And if you don’t judge me for that, then you have me. If not, then au revoir.

That said, it’s not like I wasn’t social. I talk to people who talk to me. Some amount of small talk is okay. But these are the people who know me for what I let on. I laugh a little on the inside when people say I have it all together, I’m always traveling, sweet to people, or that I love my work. You have no idea what’s beneath the surface you just managed to scratch. The real me is exclusive to just a few. And it is just these few that are allowed when I’m a bloody mess -- howling away, breaking to bits over a burger, panicking when I can’t decide what to wear. For this support system, I would cancel other plans. Throw in my essentials and come stay over. Pick up calls at 3am and listen to their stoner-talk. I love them because I can see a bit of myself in them. And because I love myself, I can allow to love them too. That’s how it works.

You love yourself first. Then you grow your circle of those who love what they see in you. Not the other way around. It has taken me all of 23 years to learn that, and I’m still not done. Here are a few things that has helped me, in bits of the Serenity Prayer. 

You cannot do anything about your face -- I was body shaming myself for the longest time. I wanted to be petite so that I can fit into any and every kind of clothing. I experimented with my hairstyles just to make my face look smaller. But it is huge and round. I cannot do anything about it. I can only make sure my body stays fit. But that doesn’t mean I become a fitness freak and hope for smaller hip bones. My built is this, I shall dress for it. That’s how my boho-chic style came to be. A ‘I-don’t-care look.’ Give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change.

You can only love people so much -- It is not your job to go around fixing people. Just like you found a way to fix yourself, they too need to hear from within. No amount of positive talk or empowering compliments is going to change their mind. So don’t set out on a mission to heal the world like a savior. Love them, hold them when they need you, and inspire them. The rest is in their hands. Give me the courage to change what I can and the wisdom to know when to stop.

You are not what happens to you -- So when a project goes wrong, a person cheats on you, or your parents think you are a disappointment, double check how much of that has to do with what you’ve done. If you find a way to fix it, go ahead. If you cannot, then it’s not your fault. Don’t go looking around for sympathy when you’re the only one who can forgive yourself for your losses. Or if you can’t, just cut them from your narrative. And for god’s sake -- don’t jump to the conclusion that you’re not good enough. Like literally don’t off anything, ever. Everyone errs, to err is human. Give me the power to accept my hardships as a way to become stronger.

Self-love is an ocean that I can scrutinize from every angle. I can simply put it like this: your heart holds a lot of love. It is easy to underestimate how much love you can give others. We do it all the time, leaving a bit of our heart with so many people -- scattering it away like they’re breadcrumbs for others to find a way back to you. But whatever you do, don’t spend it all. Fortify your own before you try to be a pillar for others. You need some for yourself, you cannot depend on others’ bread trails because they don’t lead to you when you’re lost.

[geminimoonbeamx]

In the Land of Gods and Monsters: Part Three

A/N: I really wanted to get across in this chapter that she knew. That she was aware of all of the warning signs, and that she ignored them and went ahead and fell in love with this man that she knew she shouldn’t anyways. There’s something so…cosmic with that, I feel. Like they just cant help themselves and it kills my ass and I want it to kill you guys too. So this is kind of like a filler chapter, but it’s important to the future of this story because it sets up that notion that she really cant feel bad for her self because THAT BITCH KNEW. SHE WAS TOLD. SHE WAS AWARE.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: As with all of my stories there’s a permanent warning of cursing. I have a mouth like a sailor and express myself through the word fuck. Heavy mentions of Drug Use and Drug Addiction. Starting to stray into the NSFW realm, just heavy petting in this chapter but still. Mentions of Death(murder) of a parent.

Summary: You knew what you were getting yourself into when you met Bucky Barnes. He was a known wise guy. A feared mobster. Everyone in the neighborhood knew his name. Funny, in retrospect, you think that might have been why you couldn’t help but be drawn in like a moth to a flame. This first and foremost, is a love story. Blood stained and littered with bullet holes, but the story of how you fell in love with the man none the less. Mobster!BuckyxPlus Size Reader

All my friends tell me I should move on, I’m lying in the ocean singin’ your song- Dark Paradise, Lana Del Rey

-Past-

Problems with addiction ran in your family; you had an aunt who drank a half pint of vodka a day, a handful of junkie cousins, and a mom who had been in and out of rehab because of her love of prescription pills your entire life. The L/N’s liked their high’s. That was just the way you’d grown up. Even Grandma Viv loved her pot(she had a killer bong collection that would make even the biggest stoner gasp).

And you- you weren’t any different. You liked peaking; smoked weed regularly. Dabbled in coke, more so since you’d met Wanda, and other drugs. Nothing scarily hardcore, nothing in your veins. No needles. Even the words heroine and meth scared you shitless… but you enjoyed being high. Loved the rush of endorphins that came with it. Loved feeling…disconnected from everything bad, even if just for a minute.

Bucky Barnes was your new drug.

He made you feel so much better then anything else you’d ever tried did. He made your heart race and your brain fog over, made your stomach clench in anticipation and all of your inhibitions slip away. And you were starting to crave your fix, more and more. The two of you were together every moment you could be; when he wasn’t “working” and you weren’t helping out in the shop or hanging out with Wanda. It was almost ridiculous; you went at it like teenagers. The moment you were together, you couldn’t keep your hands off him, couldn’t help but revel in the kisses he showered you with. Kisses, and gifts.

You’d come to learn that Bucky was an old school kinda’ guy. He liked spending his money on you; “I’m just givin’ you what you deserve, baby” he’d reassure whenever you’d eye something suspiciously. The most you’d ever been given by a man before him was a headache and a box of chocolate they’d picked up at the local 7-11. And then here Bucky comes; drowning you in bouquets of flowers, taking you to the nicest restaurants. It was honestly all a whirlwind, the last month with him had been something out of a fever dream. More then you could have imagined-and sometimes more then you could make yourself believe, accept.

How was Bucky even real? He was almost perfect…almost.

Wanda continued to warn you, to ground you and remind you exactly what you were fucking with.

“He’s not perfect, Y/N. He’s been to fuckin’ prison before!”

She was…wary, of the relationship you seemed to be building with him. Not in that annoying, whiny way. Where she’d bitch at you constantly about breaking it off, but in a way where she had your back. Made sure you checked in with reality every once and a while.

And the reality of Bucky was that he was a gangster. His flashy car and nice apartment came from blood money. You weren’t ignorant to that, and he knew it. Of course you knew, he’d decided. You were best friends with Wanda- there was no way not to know.

It should have deterred you; knowing about the gambling and killing and crime. He was a dangerous man, you should have taken that in to consideration. And you did, sometimes. When you got a moment where your mind and body weren’t buzzing from his touch…

But mostly,

You just got high.

Like now; he had you pressed up against the side of Wanda’s house, the brick biting your bare shoulders a delicious contrast to the pleasure that came from his hands that were drifting under your top. His lips are pressed to your neck, sucking kisses into the skin there and you let out a breathy whimper when you feel him cup your breast through the thin lace of the bralette you wear, your hardened nipple scraping against his palm.

You and Bucky had messed around, a lot. He told you he couldn’t get enough of you, and he was constantly grabbing you. Turning you into a puddle of goo with his mouth and hands…but you hadn’t gone all the way yet. You were just…scared. That if you let him have that part of you, he might change. Change in the way he seemed you yearn for you.

And you weren’t quite ready for him to stop looking at you like you were Aphrodite reincarnated yet.

“Bucky-” You gasp, your hands that had been bracing themselves on his shoulders begin pushing at them, weakly “Stop, we have to stop”

“No!” you think he says, but it’s muffled by the mouthful of your skin. He nips at your plush flesh and you swear your eyes roll into the back of your head, your nails taloning through the material of his shirt.

Fuck, he just made you feel so good. Your hands travel from his shoulders, planning over the strong muscle, up his neck, making their way to tangle in his hair. You love messing up the pretty, styled locks. Running your fingers through his mane until it stuck up in disarray - you liked knowing you could get him here. Rowel him up this way.

“We’re gonna’ get caught. Wha-” your sentence is cut off by the hiss that leaves your throat as he squeezes your breast, tweaking the bud under your top “What if someone comes out?”

You and Bucky…hadn’t really made anything “official” yet. Another reason you were hesitant to sleep with him. He called you his doll, slung his arm around you and flirted openly with you in front of everyone. The two of you went on a handful of dates; you’d drug him to the museum and he’d taken you to all of his favorite restaurants, up and low scale, you’d even been to his apartment. But there hadn’t been that conversation yet. You know, the big important one. The ‘I want to be with you, and no one else, one.’

“I don’t fuckin’ care, let 'em” He pulls away from his assault on your neck to whisper in your ear, before giving it a wet, languid lick that had your knees shaking and your mouth seeking his needily. He happily obliged and slotted his to yours, the kiss deep from the get go.

See, the dilemma was; Bucky turned off your brain. You couldn’t think, logically, with him. Especially not with him kissing you. So you allow yourself to get lost in the kiss, in his touch. In his smell and the sweet taste of his tongue. Ignoring the fact that Wanda was waiting for you upstairs in her room. You’d told her you were going to take a call, and instead you were getting dry humped against the side of her home.

The Stark and Maximoff families were doing business, their partnership sold as of the moment. Which meant you we’re running into Bucky a whole lot lately. Not that either of you minded, it just made it easier to get sucked into his trap. Under his spell.

You tear your lips away, dragging your head to the side as he tries to recapture them “Wanda’s gonna’ be so pissed at me, I have to go back in”

He huffs out a whine and you smile at your work. For as much as he affected you, you knew(his reactions clear), that you affected him right back. “She’ll get over it. She get’s you all the time”

“Well she’s my best friend, so…” Your eyes trail away as you say it. Not looking at him, not wanting him to read the uncertainty in them.

“And what am I? Chopped liver?” He nuzzles your cheek, pressing a small kiss there. You know he had to be running your face makeup, as usual.

“I don’t know, Buck. You tell me” Your words were knife like and you could feel him hesitate. That just fueled you on though, your hands dropping from his hair.

Did he want to be with you or didn’t he. What the fuck was this?

Bucky wasn’t a stupid man, actually, one of the things you had learnt about him, first and fast, was how insanely smart he was. Like 'Good Will Hunting’ smart.

So of course he picked up on the change of the vibes, on your shifting mood. He just tries to push himself closer though, pressing you tighter to the brick, his body pinning yours even though you were staring to squirm.

“Baby doll…” He breathes, running his nose along your cheekbone and you just close your eyes and retreat from it “Don’t be like that”

“I’m not sure what it is you want from me”

He sighs, the hot air he exhales fanning across the side of your face “Whattya’ mean? I want you, I want you so bad-”

That’s not enough. It’s not enough for him to want you, your body. Not when you want so much more from him.

“I’ve gotta’ go back inside now, Bucky” You push him away, and he can tell your serious so he lets you out of his cage like arms.

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine” You’re re-arranging yourself. Smoothing your shirt back to its previous state and making sure your boobs weren’t popping out due to his ministrations .

“Talk to me then”

“I don’t have time right now”

That earns you another sigh and you look over to see him running his fingers through his hair, slicking it back. It wont exactly stick back into it’s style; into the neat way it had been before you’d messed it up.

Good, some vicious side of you acknowledges. He can’t fix what you’d messed up.

“What about later? We can go get somethin’ to eat”

You hate that you’re so petty sometimes. That because you were feeling insecure, you couldn’t stop yourself from being a bitch.

“I’ve got to work later”

“Baby” This isn’t pleading, this is strong. He’s demanding you, using that tone that you barley ever heard from him. It forces you to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong? I’m not gonna’ beg for you to fuckin’ talk to me when I don’t know what I did wrong, Y/N”

It really shouldn’t turn you on so much, that commanding, strong side of him. Because you knew this was the side that he used in his “work”. This was the Bucky that pepple whispered in fear about.

…And yet there you were, with wet panties.

It made your head spin. Your Bucky high could be too much sometimes…

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s fine”

“That’s bullshit”

“Y/N!” Wanda’s voice comes bellowing from somewhere out of sight and you’re happy for it because you didn’t know whether you were about to start an argument with him or let him fuck you against this wall.

His jaw tenses and un-tenses and its your turn to sigh, to reach out for him and run your hand along his arm as you leaned in.

“I’m fine, okay? I’m just- fuck. I’ll text you later okay?”

He doesn’t look convinced, and he’s still doing that jaw thing but he nods and you press a quick smooch to his lips before you step away from him, intent on hurrying back to Wanda because you knew she’d come looking.

You only get a couple steps away though, before you’re being yanked back, into his arms.

You giggle into his mouth as he kisses you, as his hands squeeze at your doughy hips for moment.

“You’d better text me later” He commands, but its playful and light, accentuated by a lick.

“I will” You promise and he glowers down at you so you give him one more peck, dragging his bottom lip out with your teeth as you pull back “I will”

And then you’re walking away, giving him a faint smile before rounding the corner of the house.

When you find Wanda(which is like a game of Where’s Waldo in this big ass fucking house), lounging against the railing of one of the balconies she has a smirk and a raised eyebrow waiting for you.

“Your hair is fucked” She informs you, before she takes a drag of her cigarette and you chuckle and give her a dry “thanks”

You go and lean next to her, not smoking yourself, but staying with her as she does. Raven, Step Mommy number six, had made the house a no smoking zone due to Wanda’s father’s ever worsening lungs. Wanda had of course been livid, but had agreed to light up outside. She hated Raven, but she loved her dad.

“That was a mighty long trip to the bathroom”

“That Mexican we had earlier didn’t agree with me?” You reply lamely, feebly lying and she just busts into laughter.

“Yeah right, you little hooker. I know Bucky had to come by for a drop off”

You shrug and turn so that you face her big back yard. You’re feeling very conflicted.

“Did something happen?” She’s so intuitive it’s like she’s reading your mind sometimes.

“No. Why?”

“Because you usually cant shut up about him” She retorts, turning too so that she’s facing the same direction as you. You snort. It’s pathetic, but it’s true.

“I just don’t know…you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Care to elaborate?” She pries, but she cares. So you don’t totally hate her for making you talk about feelings you couldn’t even comprehend yourself.

“It’s like he wants me, and I know that. But does he want to be with me? I mean you’ve told me about all the girls before and I totally fucking believe it. He’s like- ugh, Wanda. I feel like I’m being an idiot”

“What you need to be thinking about is if you want to be with him” Wanda starts, flicking the ash of her cigarette “It’s not like normal relationships, Y/N. Committing to a man from this life is hardcore. It’s not something you should do on a whim, because shit can hit the fan really fucking fast. If you two are together, like really together, and everyone knows about it- you become a weak spot”

Wanda seems to be fighting to keep herself calm and you feel bad. You hadn’t even really thought about this, about the harsh truth she was about to lay on you.

“And other families, other branches- like to exploit weak spots. You’d be in danger. Constantly. Your name would be connected to his. It happens all the time, someone wants to get back at someone else, they do it through their loved ones-”

It had happened to her. You knew very little about Wanda’s mother and her death. Only the bits that Pietro had reveled to you one drunken night- Wanda, herself, had never brought up the woman. You knew their father loved her, and you knew that she had taken a bullet that had been meant for him. It was sad, in an ironic way. Mr. Metals wife killed by metal.

“I’m not saying Bucky’s the greatest dude, and for all we know he could be talking to other girls, but I think this is the reason he’s being weird about being with you. You’re not an idiot- well I mean you are, for willingly involving yourself with him in the first place” You glare at her and she chuckles.

“But I mean these guys have wives and girlfriends all the time? What if it’s just…me” Your insecure mind forces your mouth to utter the words.

“What do you mean you?”

“I mean I’m obviously not a fucking super model- OW!” When Wanda throws her elbow, very hard you might add, into your boob you cut your sentence short.

“Shut. Up. You are gorgeous and you know it”

“You’re my friend, you have to say that” You continue in vain as you rub your now sore breast. Funny, it’s the one that Bucky had been playing with. Little guy was gettin’ a lot of attention today.

“I really don’t, and you know I wouldn’t if I didn’t think it was true” Honesty rings in her words and you know it to be true. Wanda could be a bitch, you could just picture her telling someone they needed to go powder their nose. She’d told a girl at a party that she should consider brushing her hair every once and a while.

“Y/N” She breaks you out of your silence, out of your thoughts and you turn to her. “You’re my best friend. My only friend, if we’re being real…so I’m going to tell you this, because I love you”

Oh no. You’re not sure you want to hear what she has to say but you stay quiet and brace yourself for it anyway.

“Falling in love with him is a bad idea-”

“I’m not!-”

“But you’re going to. I know it. So I’m telling you now, it’s a bad idea. It’s a truley shitty fucking idea. I love my father, I really do- but he’s a bad man. He does horrible things- daily! And Bucky’s the same”

Her words taste like poison, nothing like the honey sweet ones Bucky filled your mouth with. Her bitter clashed with his sweet and left you torn. You just nod, because you knew damn well she was right and lean into her, your head resting on her taller shoulder.

You don’t say anything, because what is there to say? You cant tell her that you were going to stop seeing him, because you both knew that wasn’t the truth…

“You lesbians want to smoke this blunt with me?” Pietro asks, joyously, obliviously, as he bounces out onto the balcony with the two of you. In his hands is a thick, already rolled weed-gar and on his face is an excited grin. He waggles his eyebrows at you and you cant help but laugh.

Leave it to him to break the tension, to raise the mood.

When it came to the twins; they really were night and day. Where Wanda was unapproachable and slightly antisocial- Pietro was loud and made friends with everyone he met. They balanced each other in a way that was almost unhealthy because you really couldn’t imagine one of them being able to survive without the other.

And so, you opted for a different kind of high. Trying not to think of Bucky as you faced the blunt with both twins. You didn’t know what kind of weed that was, but your completely, stupidly, fucking stoned for hours.

Even when you head into to the Bodega for your shift. Grandma Viv just shoots you one look and tells you to go put some eye drops in so you didn’t scare away her wholesome customers. Time seems to pass both too fast and too slow and you vow to yourself that you’re never smoking with the silver haired twin again because he had to have roofied you.

You’re finally coming down later that night, after a long shower. You’re clad in a matching pair of black pajama shorts and a tank top as you’re sprawled across your bed. It’s starting to get hot, summer time sweltering, and your window is cracked open because the air conditioner is on the fritz yet again and the maitnence man wasn’t going to come until the end of the week.

You grab your phone and scroll through the contacts.

And even though Wanda had warned you- even though you fucking knew what you were playing at, you texted Bucky.

-Hi. What are you up to?

His reply is fast, and unexpected.

-Come outside

That had you sitting up, fast, you’re eyes widening as you hurried to the window. He wasn’t serious- he couldn’t be.

And yet he was. His familiar car is parked in it’s usual spot a few cars past the Bodega…

“Fuck” You hiss as you run to the mirror and look yourself over. Your hair is wet from the shower still, and your face looks chubby and young and bare. You forsure hadn’t gotten to the “No Makeup” part of the relationship yet “Fuck, fuck, fuck”

Your phone buzzes again and you reach over to grab it

-C'mon doll, come outside

-Ur fucking insane you text back, fishing out a bra to throw on quickly under your tank top.

-I know. Hurry.

And so you slip on your furry slides and make your way outside. Your grandma had gone to sleep hours ago, after the store had closed, so you didn’t have to worry about her. You take the stairs down to the ground floor at an embarrassingly fast pace, almost tripping more then once.

God, you were running to him. Litterally. You’re acutely aware of how much of an idiot you are as you step out into the late night air.

He’s standing there, waiting for you outside of his car. A box of roses in his arms. You approach him hesitantly, spearing your lip between your teeth. He grins at you, the closer you get. His eyes drinking you in and you try in vain not to flush under that scrutiny.

“Hi” You say, as you close the gap. Til’ you’re standing right in front of him

“Hi” He breathes back “These are for you” he extends his arms, giving you the flowers that you’d envied on luckier girls social media’s for ages. You look down at them with big eyes. You’d never though anyone would get you something so beautiful…

“Bucky, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to”

“But-”

“I want you” He interrupts and your chest clenches and you feel like you need to shut your eyes. Straight to the point. He never seemed to bother with inbetweens. It was all or nothing with him, you’d guessed his severity had been picked up from his “job”.

“Bu-”

“I want us to be together. I do, you know that, right? That’s what earlier was about?”

When you don’t reply his hands grab at you, pulling you by you hips until your bodies are pressed flush against each other- well they would be, if you didn’t hold the box of roses between you like a protective barrier. You cant seem to properly function. So you just grip the flowers, tight.

“My life is messy though, and I don’t want that for you”

“So you want to be with me, but you don’t?” You glare up at him suspiciously.

“No- I just want to be with you. That’s all” He assures, as thought it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“But you just said-”

“I know. And I’ve been thinking that since our first date because, shit, Y/N, I’ve wanted to be with you since then. I don’t want you gettin’ caught up in the cross hairs of all my…shit. But you’re already best friends with Wanda so I figured…screw it. I want to be selfish with you, because I fucking love the way I feel when I’m around you”

You are SCREAMING.

On the inside of course.

Your heart literally feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, like you’re about to start throwing palpitations.

“Just me. No one else?”

He shakes his head vehemently “No one else. Fuck. Is that what you were worried about?”

You don’t answer that, just purse your lips. He takes the roses gently from your arms so that he can place them on the hood of his car. Pulling you close then, once the protective barrier is gone- his body heat plus the early summer air has you sweltering.

“I haven’t been with anyone since we started datin’, Y/N. I promise. And even before that- well none of the women I’ve been with have mattered in a long time”

“That’s horrible” You sniffle into his chest, ever the feminist. You can feel his chest vibrate with laughter.

“I know. I’m not the greatest guy…do you want to be with me, baby girl? I’d understand if you didn’t. It would hurt like a son'uva bitch, I’m not gonna like to ya’, but I’d understand” He soothes as his leather gloved hand rubs circle on your back, playing with the ends of your wet hair.

“I do” You tell him, strongly, pulling away so he can see your face. So he can see how serious you were.

You shouldn’t.

You know that.

But you do, it’s all you want.

When his lips press to yours, in a kiss that’s sweet and passionate and full of something…different, you know you’re fucked.

That’s the thing, you always knew with Bucky.

You hoped for the best.

But you knew, that most likely, this would end in flames. And you’d walked into them with a smile on your face.

@buchonians @geekyweed @kelly96q @missrobyn81 @iamwarrenspeace @docharleythegeekqueen @beccavesper @buckysforeverprincess @yslbucky @plumfondler @prettybubblesintheair @4theluvofall @huntressxtimelady @curiositywillbeethedeathofmee @welcometothelordsden @jacks-on-krack @peacefulwriter88 @thejenniferincident @nopevilleluas @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @eshia16 @shayla-markele @xotaku-baekx @rcsgcld @ruffdog921 @manlyflower @my-anxious-world

This story is already absolutely painful to write- just because I’ve already written up the outline for it. I know exactly how this is going to end up and it’s like…fuck. Why? Why lord? Next chapter will flash forward to the present and connect back with the Intro.

So yes, Y/N is a confident plus size woman, but she is also a human being. And self doubt is a very prominent human emotion. And I mean come ON, if you were dealing with a guy like Bucky you’d have some questions for yourself too.

Do you guys love Wanda as much as I do? LMFAO I think she’s my favorite character to write.

I’m all but pouring my soul into this story and I really hope you guys can feel that, and enjoy reading it. Let me know! Leave me some love, ya’ll know I’m a slut for comments. I love you guys times a billion. Oh, and ps I'm on winter break so expect a few more updates this week if I get some juicy comments!💛

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

Revisiting CREEPSHOW 2 After 31 Years

It’s been 31 years since The Creep arrived in Dexter, Maine with his truck full of Creepshow comics. With a gleeful grimness, he delivered a copy to young Billy, who served as our animated guide through the horror anthology Creepshow 2.

Fans and critics alike have been split on their opinions of Creepshow 2 since its 1987 release. However, many fans regard it as an entertaining continuation of the original Creepshow from 1982. Both feature short stories of the supernatural and horror from the minds of Stephen King and George Romero. (The shorts are based on stories by King that were adapted into a screenplay by Romero). And while Creepshow 2 seemingly falls short, fans were still eager to get their hands on the 2016 Blu-Ray release from Arrow Video. This special edition includes interviews with the cast and crew as well as behind the scenes footage.

What is it about Creepshow 2 that has viewers so split for over 30 years? Let’s revisit the stories and find out.

  Interludes

During our opening sequence and the interludes between stories, we have the animated versions of Billy and The Creeper to guide us. Some may complain that the animation is subpar, but it actually seems fitting of the time. While not as stylistic as Heavy Metal, it does make me a bit nostalgic for Don Bluth films or even Rainbow Brite and The Star Stealer.  The animated backgrounds and setting have an eerie feel that helps set the tone for the film. Plus Billy has his own short adventure that The Creeper keeps us updated on. This involves ordering giant Venus flytraps from the back of the Creepshow comic. What we discover by the conclusion is that the enormous plants really are carnivorous. Billy’s closing line, “THEY EAT MEAT!” has stuck with me since my youth.

  Old Chief Wood’nhead

Just one of many 1980s nightmares that made me nervous about inanimate objects as a kid, Old Chief Wood’nhead (Dan Kamin) kicks off the live-action vignettes. Chief, a vintage cigar store Indian, stands proudly outside a general store in a rundown town called Dead River. The shop is owned by a senior couple named Ray and Martha Spruce (George Kennedy and Dorothy Lamour). When the couple is savagely attacked by local teen hooligans, Old Chief Wood’nhead sets off to avenge them.

To be honest, this was my least favorite of the three stories growing up. I think because the real monsters in the story happen to be the humans and not the supernatural being. Maybe that felt more disturbing than anything else. However, seeing the wooden Native American smash through walls to get at Sam Whitemoon (Holt McCallany) was chilling. Chief Wood’nhead was invulnerable, determined, and set on retribution. The special effects used to bring Chief to life are quite admirable, especially considering the over-use of CGI in today’s films.

We close the story with Old Chief Wood’nhead clutching the bloody scalp of Sam Whitemoon and fresh warpaint upon his cheekbones, having avenged The Spruces. 

    The Raft

Quite possibly my favorite of the three stories, The Raft is simple, straightforward, and scary. Four college students fitting in the usual ’80s archetypes drive to a remote location for a swim. For some odd reason they decide taking a swim in autumn is a great idea.  After swimming out to the raft in the middle of the lake, the foursome quickly discover a strange-looking oil slick traveling around on the lake’s surface.

Randy, (Daniel Beer), notices ducks getting pulled into the oil slick and starts to get freaked out. The others give him a hard time about needing to sober up. But then they each snap out of their stoner haze when Rachel (Page Hannah) gets yanked off the raft. The friends watch in horror as she’s eaten by the floating blob. As the remaining trio start to realize no one knows where they are, panic starts to set in. Deke, the jock played by Paul Satterfield, decides he can out swim the goopy monster. Instead, he gets yanked through the slats in the raft before he gets the chance. This leaves Laverne (Jeremy Green) and Randy shivering on the raft overnight.

The thing that bothers me the most about this segment (besides the comical overuse of the word “poncho”) is how Randy disregards Laverne. After waking up with Laverne in his arms, Randy puts her down on the raft (despite knowing how Deke met his demise) and decides to cop a feel while she’s snoozing. This results in the watery monstrosity eating half of her face off while she’s lying there! As Laverne screams his name while being devoured, Randy decides to make a break for it. It’s a tense scene with fun overhead angles of Randy swimming with the slick coming up right behind him.

Randy makes it to the shore, breathlessly calling, “I beat you!” before the slick transforms into a wave and washes over him, taking him into the lake. We hear the aquatic blob belch as the radio from the now abandoned car continues to blare. The camera then pans over to the overgrown brush where a sign reads, “NO SWIMMING.”

I always thought this was this was the strongest of the three stories. I enjoyed that it had more of a monster movie feel to it. The oil slick creature in The Raft really is like an aquatic version of The Blob. Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water…

  The Hitchhiker

In the final story we meet Annie Lansing (Lois Chiles). Annie is having an affair with a gigolo while her attorney husband works nights. When she over sleeps because of a faulty alarm clock, Annie has just seven minutes to make a 20 mile drive in order to beat her husband home. It’s during that drive that she encounters The Hitchhiker. In addition to speeding and talking to herself, the overtired Annie also lights a cigarette. After a puff or two, she drops the butt on the seat of her Mercedes (It’s real leather, Mrs. Lansing. That’ll cost you!) and begins losing control of the car.

As she rounds a corner and begins taking out road reflectors on the Massachusetts highway, we get a brief glimpse of a man in a yellow rain coat. Too startled to get out the way, The Hitchhiker (Tom Wright) is struck and sent sprawling into the street. His bloodied sign reading DOVER dances in the wind around his limp body as the stunned Annie looks on.

Annie then makes the split-second decision to leave the scene of the crime when she realizes another car is coming down the road. She turns off her lights and speeds away in an effort to go unnoticed. A man driving a BMW (Richard Parks) and a truck driver (Stephen King himself) stop at the scene of the crime and call 911. From there, Annie has to decide if she can live with killing a man and tells herself that if she can’t, she can always turn herself in later. However, during the remainder of her ride, The Hitchhiker keeps making appearances and attempts to get into her car.

In a panic, Annie drives off the road, through trees and practically totals her car in an effort to shake The Hitchhiker. Each time he appears, he’s sure to say “Thanks for the ride, lady!” which only shakes her up more. Never have five words made someone question their sanity as much as these have. (Repeated a dozen times over 24 minutes, some viewers questioned their sanity as well. In my house, however, it was one of my mother’s favorite movie quotes, so I’ve always had a soft spot for this segment).

When Annie eventually finds her way home, she believes a concussion caused her to see The Hitchhiker repeatedly. But her dirty deed catches up with her when he shows up from under her car. His monstrous, mangled voice screams, “THANKS FOR THE RIDE LADY!” as he strangles her. Afterward, he leaves his DOVER sign sprawled across her chest as a clue to her misdeeds.

Perhaps the most interesting twist I noticed years later as an adult was that Annie’s husband was the man in the BMW who called 911. So, the only reason she actually arrived home before he did was because he stopped for the hit and run accident she was responsible for. Speed kills, kiddies.

  When it comes down to it, Creepshow 2 may not have impressed critics as much as it’s predecessor, but it’s an eerie compilation of campy creeps. It’s also a complete nostalgia-fest for anyone who hasn’t viewed it in a few years. Personally, I find it to be an enjoyable, fun fright. Thanks for the ride, Stephen and George!

What side of the fence do you fall on when it comes to Creepshow 2? Tell us…

  The post Revisiting CREEPSHOW 2 After 31 Years appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

from WordPress https://nofspodcast.com/revisiting-creepshow-2-after-31-years/ via IFTTT

[the-netchiman]

Stolen from gf @lionel-del-rey

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

smol cousin at some family function a while back.

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Neither? 

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My gf

4. Are you easy to get along with? Fuck no lmao

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? I have no doubt that they would try

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Funny, kind, down to earth people are cool

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? I’m about to purchase a plane ticket for my gf so I severely hope we’re together by then lmao

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? ur mum

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Only if it makes the person I’m talking to uncomfortable

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My dad. I guess???

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “what the fuck do you want for chrimbus, you little bitch?”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Oh no I don’t know gonna pull these out my ass real quick Black Irish by The Devil Makes Three Almost Blue by Chet Baker Desperado by The Eagles Stillborn (acoustic) by Black Label Society 512 by Lamb of God

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? idk? 

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Yes

15. What good thing happened this summer? I got to visit a friend in Texas. Other than that, my summer went by in a big shitty blur.

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Not for all the money in the world

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? Ye

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Nop

19. Do you like bubble baths? Ye

20. Do you like your neighbors? I don’t dislike them. I don’t speak spanish, so we haven’t talked much.

21. What are you bad habits? I stress myself out over little things too often

22. Where would you like to travel? Ireland would be cool, but I definitely could never go there. Outside of that, idk, anywhere is cool

23. Do you have trust issues? oh yes

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Eating

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My chest or my neck

26. What do you do when you wake up? Check my phone

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I think its a fine how it is

28. Who are you most comfortable around? My friend Ari I guess

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? yes

30. Do you ever want to get married? wow what an awkward question to have on something my gf is for sure going to see (yes)

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? ye

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Oh, idk

33. Spell your name with your chin. dickhead

34. Do you play sports? What sports? Not any more, but I used to play Football (American) and boxing 

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Tv

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Nah. Well yeah, but they figured it out eventually lmao

37. What do you say during awkward silences? “wow this got awkward”

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Mark Ruffalo

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Nerd stores (y’know, where nerds gather to play cards and dnd and stuff, occasionally comics are also there) and music stores. I’d spend all day in guitar center if no one stopped me.

40. What do you want to do after high school? Already out, and lemme tell you I’m already not doing what I wanted to do

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Most people. A few people definitely deserve nothing less than a life time of suffering.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? Nothing, or something. I’m quiet most of the time.

43. Do you smile at strangers? I think I do but I have the resting bitch face big time so I mostly just look slightly less mad at people in public

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? The ocean would be fantastic

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Mr Socks won’t SHUT THE FUCK UP

46. What are you paranoid about? oh, y’know, most things

47. Have you ever been high? Oh yes

48. Have you ever been drunk? frequently 

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? yes, but not because i’m embarrassed, just don’t want to upset anyone

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Black

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Nah. Careful what you wish for, right? Don’t want to say that and then wake up to find I’m somehow an even bigger piece of shit.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? Wish I were in better shape, but I’m working on that so

53. Favourite makeup brand? Don’t wear it, so my favorite is whatever my gf asks for lmao

54. Favourite store? Guitar Center. lemme obnoxiously test pedals all day

55. Favourite blog? dunno

56. Favourite colour? Red. a certain shade of blue is pretty good too.

57. Favourite food? Anything featuring potatoes 

58. Last thing you ate? a fuckin 1/4 cup of cheese. my diet has been weird recently.

59. First thing you ate this morning? Nothing yet, but I have designs on some tacos

60. Ever won a competition? For what? ye, a few. i hate bragging so im not going to go into detail, but i used to actually be good at things.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Yep. suspended two or three times for getting into fights, one time for accidentally bringing a knife to school. weirdly, the girl that decided to pull the thing out of my pocket got in no trouble at all.

62. Been arrested? For what? No, but boi have i come close

63. Ever been in love? i am, at this moment, very in love

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? Not really much a story? It was an awkward childhood kiss.

65. Are you hungry right now? Yes, very. waiting on me uncle tho

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? don’t really have tumblr friends

67. Facebook or Twitter? Fb

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr for art, twitter for memes

69. Are you watching tv right now? nah

70. Names of your bestfriends? Ari, zach, mr socks

71. Craving something? What? Oh y’know things

72. What colour are your towels? Got turquoise, black, blue, purple, white. 

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? two

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Nah

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? Got a few plush pokemon, i guess that counts?

75. Favourite animal? Really like bears

76. What colour is your underwear? N/A

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? oh, uh, cookie dough? oreo? orange sherbet? can’t decide.

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? N/A

80. What colour pants? look if the last two clothing questions didn’t tip you off, i’m naked. are you happy now?

81. Favourite tv show? oh, idk. haven’t really had the interest in shows since i got super depressed like a year ago lmao

82. Favourite movie? i guess kung pow?

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD EVER PICK 2? 

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean girls

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? that chick that made out with a hot dog that one time. big mood.

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? The stoner turtle

87. First person you talked to today? My gf

88. Last person you talked to today? My uncle

89. Name a person you hate? just one? nah.

90. Name a person you love? my gf (duh) all these friends i met on the internet, and some of my family i guess

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? so, so many people. 

92. In a fight with someone? like, currently? how would i be doing this?

93. How many sweatpants do you have? don’t wear sweats

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? a couple

95. Last movie you watched? uhhhhhhhhh something shitty on netflix, probs

96. Favourite actress? oof uh, idk. 

97. Favourite actor? also dunno

98. Do you tan a lot? got them irish genes, i burn

99. Have any pets? Mr. Socks, the best cat in the world and i will fight anyone who disagrees. 

100. How are you feeling? Cold

101. Do you type fast? Nope

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Not really. If they didn’t happen, i wouldn’t be where i am now

103. Can you spell well? dubya eee ell ell. fuck you.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? kinda? define past.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? ye

106. Ever broken someone’s heart? i would hope not, but maybe

107. Have you ever been on a horse? ye

108. What should you be doing? going to the store

109. Is something irritating you right now? always

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? YES

111. Do you have trust issues? Yes

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? an ex, probably

113. What was your childhood nickname? didn’t really have a nickname

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yep

115. Do you play the Wii? I have a wiiu, but i don’t really play it much. its mostly the netflix machine now

116. Are you listening to music right now? Autumn Leaves by Chet Baker

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Fucking yes

118. do you like chinese food> YE BOI

119. Favourite book? don’t know

120. Are you afraid of the dark? Nah

121. Are you mean? I think so. others say different. its weird, man

122. Is cheating ever okay? in a relationship? no. in a video game to give your character a giant bobble head? absolutely.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean? the trick is to not wear white shoes

124. Do you believe in love at first sight? No lmao

125. Do you believe in true love? as opposed to fake love? i guess???

126. Are you currently bored? ye

127. What makes you happy? knowing that others are happy

128. Would you change your name? nah

129. What your zodiac sign? taurus

130. Do you like subway? not compared to my other sub options

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? i don’t know. she’s married, so like...what the fuck how 

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? my dad, i guess

133. Favourite lyrics right now? I've held the hand of God and I've sang the Devil's song And when it comes my time no tears are gonna fall But some will light the fire and some will mourn the one Left longing for the ire of, of their departed son.

134. Can you count to one million? ain’t got that kinda time, fam

135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I don’t really lie? I think i just say dumb shit and people take me seriously 

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed

137. How tall are you? 5′5. I’m a manlet.

138. Curly or Straight hair? no preference

139. Brunette or Blonde? brunette

140. Summer or Winter? Winter

141. Night or Day? Night

142. Favourite month? idk, december i guess because i have a mandatory week off work,

143. Are you a vegetarian? I wish, I don’t have the willpower.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Dark chocolate

145. Tea or Coffee? tea. coffee is more of a tool for me? gotta wake up, tea is just good.

146. Was today a good day? dunno yet

147. Mars or Snickers? Snickers

148. What’s your favourite quote? don’t really remember quotes

149. Do you believe in ghosts? Kinda

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“As I approached the northern cliffs where I’d find the Serpent’s Sanctum, I could see the soaring towers of Skyreach off to my right.”