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la5t-res0rt · 4 years ago

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i was just sent a post from the blog who must not be named it was a post reblogged from someone who ive added to my list of really bad people but one of the things that struck me was a tag i saw in the post

antis seek therapy

we do

we do seek therapy often to combat the trauma some of us have endured through being groomed and being abused we spend time on ourselves to heal we find ways to cope and enjoy life again after it feels like parts of ourselves have been ripped from us and broken and tainted and violated

we work to be comfortable again we work to feel like ourselves again we find things we love again we allow ourselves to enjoy media again

we are taught to stand up for our own levels of comfort and to take control of the space around us we are taught mechanisms to move forward and we are encouraged to help others and support others at least thats what my therapist of multiple decades told me

we all seek shelter in our own ways and many people seek it in media its literally what so many beetlebabes shippers claim to be doing like they’re quote reclaiming some lost childhood thing unquote and yeah i think youre going about it in a terrible way that continues the cycle of pedophila and is normalizing it but thats not even what this is about right now this is about the blatant disrespect and inability to open your eyes to someone elses experience and story

so many antis are so uncomfortable with the content created by beetlebabe shippers myself included since its so similar to the material used to character veil up abuse me character veil down

we try to curate our spaces for that we say beetlebabes dni dont reblog dont put yourself in this space im making for myself but then people come in and call it gatekeeping and try to illustrate how someone is a bad person for not wanting exposure so pedophilic content like its absolutely baffling to me that people can state such a clear and simple rule and then people will whine and moan about it as if its oppression newsflash its not fucking oppression you whining slime mold being asked to not interact on the ground of pedophilia isnt fucking oppression read a book go outside and learn something anyway

people are entitled to have control over the space in which they occupy people have the control to remove people from their spaces its like ok weird metaphor but this whole ordeal with wearing masks in public spaces yes you may have the right to refuse to wear a mask and you have the right technically to harass service industry workers but the businesses that employ these workers also have the full right to not allow you in and to even remove you from the property free speech also comes with consequences this is such a simple principle like talk shit get hit metaphorically is basically the same principle

coming into someones space after they specified that that your content is something that makes them uncomfortable makes you a major asshole and also makes me think youre dumb and maybe cant read

all of that is bad enough

but to continuously berate someone and belittle their very real trauma all in the sake of you wanting to ship and post pedophilia is simply abhorrent it is truly vile behavior to come back multiple times is truly a disdainful act in my eyes and im sure im not the first person to feel this way

if youre close to people in the field of psychiatric medicine you should know better than to belittle someones trauma and as a csa survivor yourself you should have the compassion to respect someones boundaries

have you discussed this behavior with this psychiatrist husband of yours not the pedophilic stuff but this blatant disrespect and dismissal of someone elses trauma and the growth theyve achieved thanks to their therapy and counseling have you addressed this narcissistic holier than thou approach you have to discussing such serious issues with people because thats something that should be addressed along with your acceptance and tolerance and even romanticization of pedophilia in media

this is harassment and gaslighting in action folks nether receipts I hope youre taking notes because you clearly dont know what either term means and the fact that youve gone out of your way to promote this abusive behavior is yet another reason why people dislike you i can’t tag you because youve finally taken the hint and blocked me so I see no point but you know who you are also people don’t hate you because youre a woman they hate you because youre a pedophile anyway this isnt about you

back to the person im actually addressing

trauma is not an experience that is easy to read and apply to every person you yourself sourced years of trying to deal with what you went through who are you to dictate how long someone can feel pain for what theyve gone through who are you exactly to say whether or not if has been too long of a time for someones trauma to effect them you of all people should know that this shit doesnt go away it lingers and it grips you forever it doesnt matter if you’ve been apart from it for ten days or ten years

in one sentence you belittled a person for still being effected by their trauma and then in the next stated that the battle is life long which is it which statement do you actually beleive because it seems to me you only seem to care about your own horrible self without taking this other person into account at all because their response to their trauma was to break the cycle and work to make his space safer for himself and i beleive that takes more courage and more strength to actively oppose what hurt you rather than let it become how you cope and it becomes something you reintroduce into the cycle by keeping the its all okay attitude alive

i do not usually do direct posts its not exactly my style but i am so disgusted by what i have seen and what has been shared with me that it would be a disservice to not alert as many people as i can about your behavior

for a closing statement i will quote you

quote i hope you find your way to it instead of wasting all of your time being afraid of pictures and words on a screen, and picking fights with people who harm nobody unquote

what the fuck so you think youre doing by coming back over and over to belittle trauma denounce treatment and all around be unpleasant and high and mighty thats fucking harming people you narcissistic fool

im sorry you were hurt that fucking sucks but that doesnt give your the right for one fucking second to come into someones space where it was specified that you were not allowed and proceed to harass them and belittle them like you have done

@soeur-tiame you should be ashamed of yourself

dont bother responding as ive shown before with that transmed guy i dont like to waste any more of my time on filth than i need to

#ill be blocking you as soon as i know that youve seen this

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az3422 · 3 years ago

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PeppersGhost's Proposal, I guess.

K/O Failure Scenario Hub » SPC-001 » PeppersGhost's Proposal, I guess.

rating: +263+–X

You are now connected.

[13:04] Topic is "Fuck credentials, fuck passwords, fuck secrecy, fuck everything. Just, fuck in general. Fuck like it's the end of the world, because it is. Fuck me, please oh lord im so alone | Welcome! If you're still alive to read this, good luck finding someone to talk to."

[13:04] DrTsega: Hello? Anyone here?

[19:32] DrTsega: I'll take that as a no, then.

[22:48] DrTsega: I can't be the only one left.

[22:49] DrTsega: Hey Queg, are you still running?

[22:49] Queg: Hello, DrTsega. What can I do for you?

[22:49] DrTsega: thank god

[22:50] DrTsega: !backscroll 10

[22:50] Queg: [04:33] SgtYitay: I've looked through the entire building

[22:50] Queg: [04:33] SgtYitay: Everyone is dead

[22:50] Queg: [04:33] AgentCaleb: No shit

[22:50] Queg: [04:33] AgentCaleb: I know nobody uses this thing anyway but DAMN it's been EMPTY

[22:50] Queg: [04:34] AgentCaleb: You think it's just the two of us?

[22:50] Queg: [04:37] AgentCaleb: You still there

[22:50] Queg: [04:39] AgentCaleb: Saaarrrrge

[22:50] Queg: [04:50] SgtYitay has been disconnected (Ping timeout)

[22:50] Queg: [18:22] AgentCaleb: oooookay well i think im gonna call it quits then. If anyone sees this tell my husband I love him

[22:50] Queg: [18:22] AgentCaleb: lol jk i'll see that dogfaced whore in hell 👍🕶👍

[22:51] DrTsega: hmm

[22:52] DrTsega: !seen Agent Caleb

[22:52] Queg: AgentCaleb was last seen 8 days ago saying: lol jk i'll see that dogfaced whore in hell 👍🕶👍

[22:52] DrTsega: shit

[22:53] DrTsega: shitballs

[22:53] DrTsega: shitmonkeys

[22:55] DrTsega: shit the nail on the head

[22:55] DrTsega: okay

[11:16] DrTsega: Good morning. If anyone sees this just ping me, I'll stay around as long as I can.

[09:48] DrTsega: I'm still here

[14:26] DrTsega: !quote CaptSumner

[14:26] Queg: CaptSumner: I may be shitting out of my pee parts but FUCK YOU I will WALK IT OFF

[14:26] DrTsega: haha what

[14:27] DrTsega: Good times, good times.

[14:28] DrTsega: I wish Sumner wasn't lying dead in the bathroom

[14:29] DrTsega: or anywhere, for that matter

[14:33] DrTsega: but especially the bathroom

[08:01] DrTsega: I'm still here

[12:55] DrTsega: Man, if anyone sees this later I'm going to look really pitiful

[05:51] DrTsega: okay I can't sleep so I guess I might as well do this

[05:52] DrTsega: !settopic Check the backscroll. Look for "Start here"

[05:52] Topic is "Check the backscroll. Look for "Start here""

[05:52] DrTsega: Start here

[05:53] DrTsega: If you're still alive to read this, congratulations. You survived.

[05:54] DrTsega: You also have access to working internet and enough knowledge about shadow governments to visit a (previously) private communications channel, so, hey, good on you.

[05:55] DrTsega: As a reward for being such a cool and alive person, I'm going to tell you the story of how we ended the world.

[05:55] DrTsega: For context, though, you'll probably want to start by reading a certain document…

[05:56] DrTsega: Actually, you can probably just skim it. A lot of this won't make sense to you anyway, so who cares?

[05:57] DrTsega: Anyway. I'll go find the link. If memory serves, they declassified everything when they realized we were all gonna die.

[06:13] DrTsega: How are these servers even still up? Isn't that just the craziest thing

[08:22] DrTsega: Found it.

NOTICE FROM THE CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE COORDINATION

AND PROJECTS OPERATION COMMAND OFFICE

There is nothing new to report regarding SPC-001 at this time.

Test subject displaying the results of his exposure to SPC-001.

Project #: SPC-001

Selachian Pugnātorial Capabilities: Individuals enhanced with SPC-001 display a dramatic improvement in pugilistic prowess and have consistently proven capable of easily dispatching 90% of squaloid entities in simulations, even with no prior training. Furthermore, SPC-001 subjects have reported a radical elevation in coastal requiescence position retention, even when under assault from extragranular sedimentary weaponry.

Project Components: SPC-001 is a manmade chemical substance which augments the biological strength and dexterity of human beings. After initial exposure to SPC-001, subjects will undergo a steady increase in muscle mass over the following 72 hours, accompanied by heightened energy levels and adroit perception of their surroundings. Increased lung capacity and resistance to deep-sea hydrostatic pressure are common side effects.

Following the DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION and the subsequent activation of the ALL HANDS ON DECK PROTOCOL, SPC agents embedded in the food industry began introducing discreet amounts of SPC-001 into numerous products intended for public consumption. Centre researchers have projected a full global saturation of SPC-001 to be achieved by the year ████. In the event that the DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION ends before global saturation can be achieved, more aggressive means of SPC-001 dispersal may be undertaken to prevent a complete End-of-World K/O Failure Scenario.

Nascency Impetus: On May 16, ████, all observed selachian entities across the globe simultaneously demanifested, including those in SPC captivity. No selachian entities or evidence of the continued presence of selachian entities have been observed since. A Maximum State of Emergency was declared soon after by the Executive Pugilist Assembly and the phenomenon was codified as the DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION. It is the belief of the Assembly that the selachians are congregating in preparation for the FINAL CONFLICT, an event foretold by Elder Pugilord Azmanititas in the Centre's original constitutional documents in 1451.

[08:23] DrTsega: Did you get all that?

[08:23] DrTsega: No? Okay, I'll break it down for you.

[08:26] DrTsega: I was part of a group known as the Selachian Punching Centre. An organization dedicated to fighting the menace that plagued our oceans. "We punch underwater so you can live on the land." That's what we used to say.

[08:27] DrTsega: I know what you're thinking.

[08:29] DrTsega: Yes. It was us keeping you safe the entire time. The Centre safeguarded mankind for centuries. Civilization as we knew it wouldn't have been possible if we weren't around. Our influence was unparalleled, extending to every level of every government, changing the course of world events, yet remaining a complete secret from everybody, which was really quite tricky.

Then, one day, the selachian menace disappeared. Our immediate reaction was one of disbelief, followed by euphoria, followed by raucous celebration. We danced. We drank ourselves stupid. We sang the songs of our forefathers. The orgies weren't officially sanctioned, of course, but boy howdy-doo were they tremendous.

Sadly, our revelry wasn't meant to last.

"DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION", the Assembly called it. The prophesied gathering of every selachian, big or small. Every sharp, slimy, putrid horror that haunted our dreams, coming together in one place to bring about the end of all other life on our beautiful, green planet.

"But fear not," said our trusted Assembly. They told us that the human race would fight back. They said that when the selachians returned with their armies and squaloid murder-drones, we would be ready.

And they were right. We were ready. Thanks to SPC-001, we managed to get the entire human race fighting fit. At first people were alarmed when everyone started getting super ripped for no apparent reason, but then they realized it was awesome and the panic died down. Within a few months, every man, woman, and child was a lean, mean, punching machine. Even babies had abs you could wash your clothes on. It seemed like everything was going fine.

And that's how it went for the first couple of years: fine. Sure, boxing had to be outlawed once folks could punch with the same Newtonian force as your average car crash, and there were a few riots now and then over tank top shortages, but for the most part everything felt normal.

Year three, people started getting antsy. We had kept ourselves busy at the Centre by devising new weapons for selachian warfare, but every innovation felt hollow with a lack of anything to use them on. We grew listless. Surely the assault would begin any day, right?

Year four. There was an aura of dread hanging over the whole organization. I remember sitting in the Site-71 cafeteria, eating pickled cabbage and creamed corn salads with my comrades, when I finally heard someone ask aloud what we'd all wondered in the dark corners of our heads.

"What if they don't come back?"

It was Simmons who said that, of course. Of course. I kicked him in the face—a punch would have really hurt him—but the damage was done. It's a scary thought, losing your purpose in life. Faced with that kind of existential ennui, it's no wonder that everyone responded by flipping their shit. Hersberger screamed and started smearing her salad all over her face. Gertzler stabbed his fork tines into his cheek with no visible emotion. Bühler just broke down and cried until his tears turned to blood.

But Schwartzentruber was downright fuming. Started shouting all sorts of obscenities. Said he'd shove his fist down Simmons' throat and rip out his toenails from the inside. And Simmons was all defensive, "you all were thinking it" and that kind of stuff. The two kept going at it. We shouldn't have just sat there and watched, but no one thought fists would ever get involved. How could we have known?

I remember the entire cafeteria going silent. One moment, the two colleagues had been arguing. Next thing we knew, Schwartzentruber was wearing Simmons' face around his arm like a bracelet. Fist went straight through. Nobody knew what to say. Hersberger just picked the brain matter from her hair. There was no finishing our dinner after something like that.

We all tried to write it off as an isolated incident, an unhinged employee who forgot his own strength in a moment of pure emotion. That illusion was shattered when reports started coming in from the other sites. Similar incidents were happening all over the world, and within a few weeks it wasn't just limited to SPC personnel. These arms were made for punching, and that's just what they did.

As time went on, it became harder for us to fight the itch. Punching bags were laughable at that point, so instead we invented punching blocks out of a titanium-concrete composite. Even fashioned them into the shape of selachians to help take the pain away, but it still wasn’t enough. Whenever we came close to a cure, someone would end up atomizing the equipment with a flick of the wrist and we'd have to start over.

Eventually, one day I walked into the cafeteria and found the floor covered in what must have been two inches of blood. I thought maybe a pipe had burst until I saw Bühler sitting on a table in the corner. Guy was slathered in viscera from top to bottom, and he was wearing human heads around his arms like they were snap bracelets. I asked if he wanted to talk, but he didn't answer. He just stared at his fists and trembled. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was dead, hole in his beefy chest so big I coulda driven my Grampy's Volvo through it.

That was what broke me, I think. I had never seen someone self-pugilate before. I didn't know how many people were still alive in Site-71, but I knew that I would not perpetuate the carnage. I gathered some medical supplies from the surgical augmentations lab and tied a tourniquet around my burgeoning, well-defined bicep. Carefully, I injected myself with the nearest substance that resembled an anesthetic and bid my guns goodbye.

Screaming, writhing, I hacked off my arm using only a pair of rusty toenail clippers. Needless to say, I was dizzy from pain, blood loss, and the 5 CCs of green apple daiquiri I'd injected myself with, but somehow I managed to drag myself back to the cafeteria to cauterize my stump in the kitchen's oven. Barely clinging to consciousness, I set the oven to preheat, wrapped my stump in a tent of foil, and stuck it inside, turning regularly to promote an even cauter and applying a light baste to keep it moist.

When the bleeding stopped, I went back and repeated the process with my other arm. The second time was harder, I think. With no free hands remaining, I was forced to grip the toenail clippers with my teeth. I also ran out of baste. It was the most agonizing experience I could ever possibly fathom, but here I am. Alive. My cannonball deltoids still ripple with pugilistic vigor now and then, but the stubs are too short to be lethal.

And that's it. That's my story. That's how I ended up here, barricaded alone in an underground facility, typing on a keyboard with my tongue. I haven't been able to get in touch with any other Centre sites, and I can't leave the building. Every day I lose a little more hope. My personal hygiene has suffered, too—partly because I can't look at a pair of clippers without bursting into tears. My toenails are getting really long now. I'll probably have to use a pair of scissors or something. I could even use that electric carving knife I got for my birthday. Hell, I think there's a chainsaw in the supply closet. No shortage of options, really.

Even if I'm alive now, there's no telling how long that will last. Sometimes I hear people punching on the reinforced doors, desperate to break in and claim another victim to slake their drunken punchlust. Someday they may succeed. There's enough food left around to keep me going a while, though just for a while. I've kept my mind occupied and my spirits up by watching Dr. Cavender's Walking Dead box sets, but I can feel that post-Season-Six quality drop looming just around the corner.

Maybe this was their plan all along. Maybe they just left the planet, knowing full well we'd destroy ourselves. Maybe when the last human has passed their final breath, the selachians will return from wherever they went and feast on our tight, sculpted corpses. Or maybe they're happier where they are now. Maybe they're not coming back. I hope that's not the case. As much as it pains me to say it: I miss them.

I miss sharks.

[23:19] DrTsega: With all the squats I've been doing, I could probably pop their heads between my fucking thighs.

[23:20] DrTsega: pop 'em just like cherries. hell yeah

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uniqueanjol · 4 years ago

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Simply unexpected prt.28

At around 5pm Julie comes in to prep for night shift. Her and her husband take over on weekdays whereas me and william typically run night shifts on busy or weekend nights. She walks in her mixed silver and purple hair pulled back into a ponytail. “MOM!” William squealed from the back running forward tackling her with an obnoxious hug. She brushes him off and looks around the building “What did you do?” she questions him grabbing her apron from behind the bar. He sits on the bar table, and she turns to me giving me a soft warm hug, “oh Mabel I am so glad you handle him in the morings.” she laughs releasing her grip than looking up and over at the table Grace is typing away at. “Is that the drunkie from the other night?” she looks at me. “No, that's Mable’s lady friend.” William pitches in from the background. She squints,pushing her lips, her tone in question, “no.. I think that's the same girl.” I laugh, “She.. She was having a rough day, she's actually really cool.” Julie’s eyes narrow down and stare into my soul, my nerves jump. “So you guys are friends now?” My cheeks feel warm, “yeah.” Looking over Grace is obviously working.

Julie's face went from questioning to a devilish smile, “ Oh really? well, she has good taste in art. I’ll give her that.” Confused, I raise my finger weakly in question, “huh?” Julie points to the back wall I had painted my first few years of being here. “She came in Gawking over your wall. I told her it was you and looks like she snuffed you out quick.” I pause looking over at her watching her write. I hadn’t noticed but she placed herself directly facing my painting. I look back at Julie who is giving me a side eye. “She liked my art? You told her I did it?” Julie nods, “of course kiddo! I tell everyone that's your art and you should have seen her. She choked when I told her it was you I had no Idea you guys were friends.” Embarrassment and slight anxiety filtered in my stomach. For some reason I craved her approval and knowing that she's seen my art and knows it's mine… makes me feel vulnerable, I’m now open to her judgment. It wouldn't be so bad if Julie didn't say “EVERYONE” even those who didn’t, liked my art. Something so dumb to worry about, but suddenly I felt naked.

I snap out of my thoughts to a small thump on the bar top, “ Hey!” I turn and Grace stands there, eyes glittering with a bright smile. “I don’t mean to bother you guys, but..” She paused looking down at Julie's chest searching for a name tag. “Uh- Julie?.. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the other night and I thank you for helping Mable get me home.” Julie nodded with a smile, “No problem!” she waves her hand loosely. “I assume you and our “sweeeet Mable syrup are acquainted?” She asks, giving pouty lips, pinching my cheeks with her fingers. She acts like a second hand mom attempting to embarrass me. Grace nods hoisting herself up onto the bar stool, “Oh yeah! I wouldn’t say she's sweet though,” She smirks giving me a quick wink then bursting out to a small chuckle looking back at Julie.

It’s clear she's picked up on the dynamic me and my boss share. “Ahh, I see she's given you some of her attitude too. Yeah she can definitely be an ass when she needs to be.” Grace laughs, “tell me about it, I’ve only known her for a few days and she’s already given me hell.” I shake my hand forward, making myself a part of their conversation. “Hold on you deserved it! I wouldn’t just give you hell for no reason.” Grace laughs leaning forward on the table, her shoulders press forward shedding exposure to her cleavage. My eyes drift down spotting small bits of glitter that sparkle tastefully among her fair sink and three white gems pierced into her skin. I panic and quickly shoot my gaze to the ceiling. “I never said it was for no reason, I also never said I didn’t appreciate it. I thank you for being exactly who you are.” Her eyes lay softly in my direction, she looked up at me with an admiral smile, she made it seem like there was no one else around to even distract her from me. She made it clear that she was looking at who I was; even though she barely knew me.

No one had ever looked at me like that before. I Nod, “well, I can’t be anyone else. “ a nervous laugh falls through my lips as she stands from the stool hoisting herself off with a little jump. “Well It was nice seeing you guys and thank all of you for letting me be here.” She pauses and looks around, gripping her laptop and Jacket to her chest. “Is it okay if I come back here to write again during the week?” This was clearly a question for Julie but I answered first before even thinking. “Yes!” She makes a small dancing wiggle and jumps in excitement, “thank you!” and walks out the door. Immediately I can feel eyes drilling to the back of my head. I had some explaining to do.

Simply unexpected prt. 28

The bell dings letting us know someone has left the building. And I turn to a crossed arm Julie and a cockheaded William. They have the same green eyes and both penetrate my soul. Sweat dripped down my neck. “What was that?” Julie raised an eyebrow. Laughter breaks from Will, “You think that was a trip, you should have seen her all morning! This bitch didn’t yell at me once! And she broke the cup. Not me.” Julie begins to laugh, clapping her hand on my shoulder, “our Mable baby finally has a crush!” I step back, placing my hand over hers. “ Jules,” I take a deep breath, “it’s not that serious. She’s cool, she’s cute… but. She’s… a friend.” The words scrape my throat like glass as they slip from my lips, friend. Will jumps off the counter. “ Mable you beautiful dumbass, that… is a crush. Mom has it right, she may be a friend now but, play your cards right and there’s potential.” He winks, “do it fast or I’ll take her.” Without a second of hesitation I shove his arm. “ Hell no!” Embarrassed, I pull back. The thought of her and William made my heart cringe. “No she’s gay, and besides you have Dom.” His emerald eyes roll to the back of his head and his posture drops. “Dom… is crazy, I love her but she tried to buy another damn cat! I said no, it was this whole big deal and now we're not talking… AGAIN!”

The shift of heat made me relax. “ cats are cool though. You know next week you guys are gonna be all over one another again.” Julie shakes her head in agreement and we spend the rest of our shift talking about nonsense town gossip. As we talk Graces eyes stay firmly planted in my head. Not just her eyes but the way she looked at me in that moment. Something about seeing her relaxed, interacting with more than just me drew me to her even further. She was a light I wanted to be surrounded in. I was a sunflower craving her rays of warm sunshine. It drove me crazy, yeah you see a cute girl you shoot your shot. But this, this was more than a shot fired this was a connection something I felt so suddenly. I can see she’s wrapped in personal history and written with stories that I wanted to read, I just want to know her.

My thoughts wander until the end of my shift and I hit the minimart before heading home, I used up the last of my chicken at Grace‘s house. It doesn't take long before I’m greeted by frantic waving hands to my face. “Mable!” My name yelled and elongated with exaggeration. I place my hand to the center of doms forehead as she leans forward into my palm pretending to march forward and fight me. Rolling my eyes I laugh, “what has gotten you riled up?” She drops her arms her posture following, “you didn’t tell ANNNYYYTHING!” dropping my hand I step back, “huh? What do you mean?” She crosses her arm offended, “the girl! You better thank me for saying yes by the way.” Confusion drew itself all over my face, “What are you talking about?” She frowns her brows and looks down, now confused as well. “She came in today and asked me yes or no to going to see you at work! Did that not happen? Is she just a creepy stalker and I fucked up?” She begins to panic. Finally I realize what she is talking about, “Oh… I assume you ran into Grace?”

Her hand shot up pointing her finger at me. “That's her name!” she paused, “long black hair, kinda scary but in a good way?” I nod my head and laugh, “yeah, that’s Grace. She’s interesting, that's for sure.” Dom sighs and walks with me down the issal to the frozen chicken. “Mable… that’s it? ‘She's interesting?” come on, there has to be more than that.” she waves her hands as she talks and I look down at my choice of dismembered chicken carcass. I make my selection, “there is. There's actually a lot, she's more than just interesting. She’s complex there's layers that are bare and open for everyone to see but impossible to peel back. She’s… stressful.. And I like it.” Dom steps behind the counter scanning my chicken. “I feel like stress isn’t the word you are looking for.” She hands me my receipt and I lean onto the counter. “No, it’s the right word, I can’t ‘not’ think about someone I barely know.” I cup my head into my hands, “It’s dumb, It’s a dumb crush thats going to be over in a week, i’m boring and shes… chaotic, I mean you’ve seen her. Shes probably only interested because im the only other lesbian for miles.” Dom wraps her blond hair into a large messy bun,” Orrrrrr, you just over think. This is the first time I've EVER seen you try for anyones attention. Most of the time you try not to be seen or when you are noticed, you... kinda lightly slam them into the floor with a blank stare up and down and a ‘no thanks’. She laughs, “it’s kind of savage i’m not gonna lie.”

Heh, “I guess you’re right. I’ll text you when I get home alright.” She rolls her eyes, “fine. Don't over think! Love you!” I walk out the store and get in my car, how was I not supposed to over think? Ding! My phone buzzed and I looked down and the light up notification.

** Simply unexpected episode 29 UP!**

“Damn. She writes fast

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arilkang · 6 years ago

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Ronda Rousey [ENG]

Here we are. Some time ago, I asked what were your thoughts or opinions about Ronda Rousey and you answered several times. Before we talk about her, though, let's take a little recap: Ronda Rousey is "an American professional wrestler, actress, author, mixed martial artist and judoka. She is currently signed to WWE, performing on the Raw brand, where she is the current Raw Women's Champion in her first reign. " (via Wikipedia) and "Rousey has been credited for breaking down several hurdles regarding female mixed martial arts sports, as well as challenging barriers. She has been regarded as a symbol of female empowerment, and has been praised for she became one of the highest pay-per-view draws in the world Rousey was described by Fox Sports as "one of the defining athletes of the 21st century." (via Wikipedia). She joined WWE in 2017/18, so it's been more than a year that she has been in the business of World Wrestling Entertainment: in this very short space of time she did a lot, winning the Raw Women's Championship against Alexa Bliss at SummerSlam. This has attracted criticism, even on my part, since there was actually no real construction of Ronda: she was based solely on her charisma outside the WWE. Ronda Rousey could be called a non-character: she doesn’t have a gimmick, she doesn’t actually have a construction but she’s based almost exclusively on the charisma that she has built over the years in the world of MMA, and in part inspired by the gimmick (but very partly) by Rowdy Roddy Piper. The situation has become increasingly controversial with the feud against Becky Lynch, the subsequent inclusion of Charlotte Flair in the match, the Royal Rumble, the heel turn. And we will talk about this today. Almost all of those who answered me have generally defined her "overrated", "disrespectful" and even "dangerous". Let's start with an interesting answer from @theonelazywolf. "I'm saying this with out any fear Ronda needs to go She has been given everything in the wwe with out having to work for it She keeps saying SHE put the women in the main event of WM she didnt She can't talk on the mic she cant talk over booing crowds There is more but im falling asleep" Another interesting answer was this "I don’t hate ronda at all , I actually appreciate everything she did outside of WWE. but that is my problem , everything she did OUTSIDE of WWE .in wwe she is a rookie but she is not being treated as a rookie , for some reason wwe treat her like a returning legend or something, she can barely cut a promo and she can’t call a match in the ring and doesn’t know how to deal with the crowd or what to do if shit went south or off script , yet for some reason she is main eventing Wrestlemania. Also the whole shoot promo she did , was one of the biggest slaps on the face ever. Not because she said it , but because that was actually wwe’s way of getting heat on her. Basically what I’m saying is that wwe is bringing these ufc fighters who have credibility with non wrestling fans and instead of using that credibility to get more fans , they make them come , beat the shit out of everyone, tell the world that wrestling is fake and that these people aren’t real athletes , then they take millions and leave. The ronda Rousey situation is making an embarrassment out of the wrestling world. Wwe don’t show any respect for there wrestlers and wonder why the rest of the world doesn’t respect them. While I’m at it, it’s Wrestlemania 35, it’s 2019, and people like Batista, HHH , shane mcmahon have matches , yet the SD women’s champ don’t yet , the raw tag champs don’t yet , two members of the shield don’t yet , and more and more and more names of hard working deserving young talents don’t." from @emanmagdy1 Others argue instead that Ronda is excessively dangerous in the ring, citing cases of injuries such as that of Alexa Bliss (who had some concussions). What comes out of these answers, therefore, is not so much the fact that she is not good, because Ronda is really good, but that she has focused too much on her charisma by neglecting essential elements such as the construction of promos, the character and above all what she said against the WWE and generally against wrestling. Here an essential question arises, does WWE need Ronda Rousey? It seems so, as pointed out in the answers: she didn’t have a period of time at NXT (such as Shayna; Marina and Jessa) she was immediately included in the title picture with Nia Jax and then they used an opponent like Alexa Bliss to give credibility around her. Nothing new in fact, the same thing happened with Brock Lesnar on his return but the difference lies in the absurd speed with which it was done, as well as the different background. Moreover, the feud Rousey/Lynch/Flair didn’t help the construction of Ronda, if anything it worsened it: storyline too heavy, with extreme overbooking, up to almost ridiculous (with the totally random inclusion of Travis, Rousey’s husband) not actually allowing the viewer to fully understand the whole storyline, with consequent confusion and finally the typical turn heel of the UFC fighter that relies on the criticism that is always made to those who follow wrestling from those who are totally strangers to them, that is “wrestling is fake.". A obvious turn, in my opinion, perhaps not necessary as the two people I mentioned before point out (because this is also questioning Brock Lesnar himself, a former UFC fighter too) but maybe this turn heel would have been good outside of this storyline. Maybe it would have worked more. At this time, this feud has lost its meaning because it is based too much on the charisma of Rousey and above all on the constant need of the WWE to make people talk about themselves. And they’re succeeding. To the detriment of those who have been working there for years, those who don't have an opportunity despite fighting to get it. What then emerges from this whole situation is not so much a criticism of Ronda Rousey as a person or a wrestler, but a criticism against WWE that points in an excessively obsessive way on an idealized character of Rousey who, perhaps, never existed in WWE. A criticism that shifts to meritocracy, to emphasize that, perhaps, it would be more appropriate to focus on those who grew up within the business and let go of the UFC figters in part in order to allow them to settle well, create a character, remaining coherent with what they do and still have strong credibility (like Shayna), not just focusing on something idealized. We note therefore that the criticisms are not really on Rousey, but on how the WWE is using it and on the policy it adopts with her: giving opportunities, giving a title without construction and totally relying on the concept that "UFC fighters> WWE athletes". Perhaps the basic problem therefore is not Rousey herself but the politics of WWE. I begin to believe that what the WWE Universe really wants is not so much the media exposure, not so much an extreme storyline, but as an enhancement of those who have been there for the longest time, with a downsizing of the athletes who come from UFC.

I hope you enjoyed this presentation of mine, I thank all those who answered. If you liked it, I can continue to do this kind of thing, talking about various themes, always in double language English / Italian. At next!

#Ronda Rousey #WWE #WWE Raw #becky lynch #charlotte flair #nxt #shayna baszler #opinion #ask #answer #english

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amoristt · 7 years ago

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Sunday Keepsakes | Nathan x Reader

disclaimer: i know nathan is not a good person. i am not putting a blanket over his actions in this fic. i, the writer, understand he’s not an innocent character and has made many terrible choices. im just answering people’s requests, please dont put me under the fire for it.

thank you.

Anonymous asked: Hi could you write a fluffy NSFW nathan x reader but they're married?

i loved writing this sooo much... i tried to age him mentally as much as i could, hopefully its not too ooc! enjoy <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language

Rain was the soft sound you’d woken up to. It pattered against the windows that were still covered by pulled down curtains, and when you rolled over you found the other side of the bed empty. You groaned disappointedly and brought yourself to sit up. Tired and hazy from your slumber, the blankets wrapped around your waist as you tried to crawl off the mattress, and you barely registered clumsily picking them off the floor before venturing out the door.

The hallway floors were cold against your feet even in early spring, and you shivered thanks to the exposure of only being dressed in a baggy t shirt.

“Nathan?” You yawned, fingers running along the wall as you peeked quietly into your child’s room. It was empty save for the the crib, and you smiled at the silence. Your baby was still sleeping soundly, and you realized this had been the first night in weeks that you’d had a full night's sleep.

You called out for your husband again and shifted your fingers through your hair, then you turned into the living room and leaned against the wall at the sight before you.

Nathan was wrapped up in looking into a binder, his hair a mess, his clothes loose and unfitted. Short flashbacks ran through you, dating all the way back to when you’d first him. He looked like he did now, sitting while leaning forward, staring into a binder almost secretively. However unlike when you’d first met him, when you cleared your throat he didn’t yell at you to go away. Upon seeing you watching him, Nathan instead set the binder on his legs and leaned back.

“It’s about time.”

You smiled, pushing off the wall and finding your way next to him on the couch after urging him to scooch over. Like you’d done countless times before you leaned and placed a kiss on his lips, one that he returned happily. All was well.

“Morning.” You replied softly. The binder on his lap gained your attention and when you looked at the photos you felt your heart flutter. It was the family album you and him had put together throughout the years, stock full of a mixed variety of photos.

Some were aesthetically pleasing, ones that he had taken of you in front of the sky or sitting among flowers. His style had drastically changed throughout his years, going from monochrome and haunting to something more focused on a bright side of life. In some way it felt witnessing a caterpillar, afraid and young, morphing into a butterfly.

Other photos were professional shots of important dates in you and Nathan’s history, and your eyes lingered over a particular one. “Remember that?” you asked fondly, placing an index finger on the thin plastic cover. He took one look at the image and sighed into a smile. It wasn’t a great photo so to say, the angle was mostly wrong and if you were being honest it made you look like a goblin, but the memory is what mattered.

Your 5 year anniversary. It was a serene celebration, one where you got to pick the location. You chose the area where you and him would often sneak to when you skipped class- an empty field beside a long river that ran into the wide ocean. A blanket was set out, a basket in the middle and drinking glasses on either side. The date was incredibly well put together compared to the other casual ones you had, but the both of you enjoyed it. Your friend snapped a quick candid photo before parting ways and leaving you and Nathan, and the photo consisted of you two looking up in confusion. You looked ugly, unsuspecting, but comfortable.

It was nostalgic seeing the both of you so young. It hadn’t been too long since that anniversary but you both did look different now. Nathan’s hair had grown darker, he stopped slicking it back and instead would usually just let it do whatever it wanted. Your hair ended up growing out much longer than it had when you were young, and thanks to the sun had lightened a few hues. That field was the site of a canoeing business now. The river had a ‘do not swim’ sign nailed to a post.

Nathan turned the page and stopped to tilt his head at one of the photos, then he laughed.

“Bailey.” He mumbled. You followed his line of sight and then you too, let out a breath of laughter.

This picture was one that you had taken. It was a gorgeous day at the beach, the sky golden with the late afternoon, and Nathan was knee deep in the waters while you were out sitting on the sand. He was older, 23. In front of him was a white and brown pitbull, a thick stick in it’s mouth that Nathan was trying to retrieve.

Bailey was an amazing dog. She was sweet and well trained, and she never once showed a fang to you or your husband. Before Bailey, Nathan swore up and down he could never get a dog because they were too messy, too much work, but when you were volunteering for a shelter trying to gain some more college credits he’d seen her. She was curled up in the corner of her cage with a caution sticker, but she was nothing but kind. Nathan adopted her that day and you had no complaints.

She was the perfect companion, but she was old when you’d adopted her. It took Nathan a while to get over her, as did it for you, but looking back at the image made you feel happy in a melancholy kind of way.

Before a lump could form in your throat you flipped the page again.

“Oh,” you grinned, pointing at a photo of him standing in front of Cedar Point’s gates. “Remember this?”

Nathan rolled his eyes and groaned, placing a hand on his forehead. “How could I not? You dragged me on every single coaster.”

You gently nudged at his shoulder. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun.”

He glared at you, unamused. “I threw up like 3 fucking times.”

“Yeah, afterwards.” You flipped the page again, then almost did once more before he stopped you.

“Wait,” His features softened at one particular photo that was larger than the rest. You leaned your head to the side, a fresh and content smile forming on your lips. Your wedding day.

“It was nice seeing you in a suit and tie.” You remarked teasingly, but softly. Lovingly. “Even if you didn’t tie it yourself.”

“You can’t tie a tie either.” Nathan’s eyes never left the image, tracing over every edge and pixel. It was an amazing photo, one of your best.

Though the official picture with you standing beside each other was a favorite, it didn’t compare to the candid one Victoria had captured. You and Nathan dancing together, a loving grin adorned on both of your faces. The dress was white and pooled over the floor like a waterfall, the color a crisp contrast to Nathan’s black, fitted tux. Of course you’d seen Nathan smile before, you’d seem almost every expression there was to know, but on that night when you looked up at him you were taken aback by how peaceful, how happy he was. There was nothing weighing him down.

“I almost tripped walking up the aisle.” you breathed, wanting to cover your face at the embarrassing memory. He laughed beside you, flipping the page.

“I would have lost my shit.”

“I think everyone would have.”

There were a few more images here and there of your friends and family- Nathan’s father void of all of them. The day you left Blackwell was the best of your life, and you knew your husband felt the same way. Although you two were obviously not married at that point you both knew that you would be soulmates, and so you two disappeared together. Adults and fully capable of making it, you and him settled down in ome urban area you didn’t even know existed. It was peaceful, the neighbors were friendly. It was just what the two of you needed.

At first you were afraid that he wouldn’t do well in the new environment. He’d been working on his anger and outbursts for quite some time but this was a drastic change in lifestyle- what if he couldn’t handle it? However, Nathan certainly did surprise you.

Much like you, a kinder and less dramatic city was what he needed. He no longer felt like he was the freak of a town, and something about knowing he could have a fresh start made him want to be better than before. He waved to neighbors, he thanked the mailman.

He had his moments of weakness but you were there to help him, and before you knew it he was truly turning into the man he always wanted, and could have, been. When you were younger you’d never have imagined settling down with him. You’d never even had imaged him being willing to settle down.

Without the overshadow of his father and the pressure of working beneath him he started searching for new options, and eventually settled down for being a designer and part-time wedding photographer. For a time before that he tried to take a place in building but it ended up not working out, as he discovered that he was a horrendous builder.

But, luckily, he had directions for assembling a crib.

Your baby was unplanned but it was a blessing, and you were taken aback by how mature Nathan was during the whole ordeal. When you told him the news he was oddly silent for a time, and you were terrified that this wasn’t what he wanted. You and him had never really discussed children- you always assumed thanks to his father he wouldn’t want to raise a child, but then he told you he was happy. He told you this was good for the both of you. He told you that you’d make great parents.

Nathan, behind this, was afraid however. You could see it in his eyes as the months went on. He was nervous that he would end up like his father, cold, uncaring, and distant. Try as you might to push those thoughts out of his head he still had his doubts but that was to be expected- you had them too, but they were gone on the night ___ was born.

She was so tiny in your arms, and she was so beautiful. Nathan held her so gently and a smile broke over his features, and it lit you up. Now, here she was, nearly a year old and you two were doing great. Some days were harder than others but you were content.

You and him had a house together, away from Arcadia Bay, away from his father and away from his reputation. Of course Victoria was still around here and there- and she was a story just as much as he was. She still had so much fire in her but her edges weren’t nearly as sharp as they were when you’d first met. She was kinder now, and she had a loving husband with a baby of her own on the way. Nathan also still had ties with his mother and sister, though they only showed up for the greater holidays. His sister was kind, she loved you. His mother was sweet too but you could see something behind her eyes, and you wondered if she thought you stole Nathan from his family.

You flip the page, looking at more memories, and Nathan goes rather silent in thought for a few long seconds but they aren’t tense. The rain never let up even after pouring down all night and evening, but it calms you in some sort of way. Leaning your head on Nathan’s shoulder, you smile when he lets out a deep breath.

“Did you ever think we’d end up here?” You asked without looking up at him.

“Fuck no,” He answered with a sharp laugh. “I didn’t think I’d make it to 22.”

“Are you glad you did?” This time you do move to look up at him, reaching to flatten down some of his hair. He doesn’t move under your touch like he used to years ago.

Nathan’s eyes soften down at you, and you remember how much leaving Arcadia Bay has affected him. It had been a slow and gradual process, and it had been anything but easy, but he’d come so far from the angry, bitter, teenage boy who lived like it was him against the world. He wasn’t nearly as angry anymore. He had his moments where the child he once was would part through, but he’d learned to catch him, take a moment to remember how he was different now. He was better now. He smoked but he wasn’t much of a drinker anymore, and he’d kicked drugs years ago. It was an incredible feat, and you and him both knew it.

Part of you expected him to say something sarcastic, but he leaned down and placed a brief kiss on your lips. “You know I am.”

You smiled, looking back down at the photos. There were just so many, some artistic, some candid, and some horrendous that didn’t compliment your face at all. But you kept them, remembered every single moment and every single story each one held. When you were a small child you imaged an easy life, one where you and your soulmate would click the moment you laid eyes upon each other. It would be smooth sailing and everyone would envy your relationship, wonder why they couldn’t find someone who loved you as much as your ‘prince charming’ did. But Nathan was not a prince charming. When you’d met him he was insufferable, and you were scared of him. Little did you know that he would end up being the person you’d devote yourself to, the person you’d give everything to. You never once stopped to think you could be the one he changes for.

Thunder sounded from outside but it was distant, echoing. Nathan leaned back against the cushion of the couch and you followed him, setting the binder on the coffee table and lifting your feet up so you could cuddle against his side. He faced up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“What do you want for breakfast?” He asked flatly, voice tired. You shrugged. “If you don’t pick something I’m gonna skip it all together.”

“Fine, fine, waffles.” You giggled, shutting your eyes. Breakfast sounded appealing but neither of you make an effort to get up, Nathan’s arm snaking around your body and resting at your hip. You could’ve fallen asleep right there if you wanted, but it was already 11 am, you should be getting up and getting ready for the day. Another roll of thunder sounded and you yawned, reluctantly pulling away from his comfortable hold and patting his chest. “Alright, time to start the day.”

Nathan groaned and grabbed a throw pillow from the end of the couch, wrapping his arms around it and shoving his face into the plushness.

You grabbed at the edges of it and half-assedly tried to pry it from him. “Come on Nathan we gotta’ start doing things.”

“Why can’t we start our shit at noon.”

“Because you hate being rushed, and I know if I let you you’ll sit here the whole day.”

“I don’t have anything to do today.”

“Yet,” you pulled it from his arms and sighed at his mildly annoyed expression. “You always find things to do on sundays.”

Reaching out in front of him, Nathan interlocked his fingers and stretched, yawning and then rolling his neck. He stopped to linger for a moment, staring down at the photo album still open on the table, before he reached down and then folded it shut. You stood and he did so as well, tucking the binder under his arm and yawning again. The collar of his t shirt, much too big for his form, bared his shoulders almost artistically.

He followed you into the kitchen, only stopping for a minute to put the album back into the hallway closet. As you opened the cupboards to start retrieving the items you needed Nathan felt no shame in coming up behind you, moving your hair from your neck and kissing along the newly exposed skin. You shivered in delight and grinned, tiling your head to the side and giving him more room which he took complete advantage of.

“I thought you wanted breakfast.” You remarked, eyes slipping shut. He wrapped his arms around you and hummed against your skin.

“By all means, go ahead.” He nipped at your skin and you could feel his lips curl when you jumped at his teeth.

Once again you reluctantly broke away from his hold but this time you were joined right back with him, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck. He took the invite gladly, one hand resting on the countertop to trap you in front of him and the other keeping it’s place at your hip.

“Very funny,” you breathed, pulling him in for a kiss. He started getting antsy against you, fingers starting to slide under your shirt and you by no means wanted him to stop. You leaned your head back when he paused the kiss to run his lips along your jawline, then down your neck. The counter was hard against the small of your back but it barely registered to you, too caught up in running your fingers through his already messy hair.

“This isn’t very productive.” Nathan joked against your skin, and you laughed.

“You started this,” You tugged at his hair and bit your lip when his hand lifted up the hem of your shirt. “You wanted breakfast, now you want this. Can’t you make up your mind.”

Though you teased him, goosebumps still ran along your skin as he brushed the pads of his fingers along your stomach and abdomen. You cursed softly, eyes unfixed but staring at the ceiling as he felt you. He finally hooked his fingers beneath the wireline of your bra when suddenly a sound rang through the previously silent house.

Down the hall, door on the left. A baby was crying in it’s room.

You sighed in defeat, eyes slipping shut. “Damn it.”

Nathan’s fingers pulled away from you as the baby continued to wail a few rooms down, and you both knew your session had come to an end.

“Do you want to get it or?”

“You stay here,” He breathed, rubbing at his cheeks. He was no longer half lidded, fully aware of his surroundings and definitely awake. “I got it.”

He shuffled away from you with his head hung low, and you giggled at the sight. Defeated by an infant. When you turned, resting your hand atop the cold counter, you looked over the items you'd previously taken out. One by one you put together everything you needed, starting the waffle maker as you hummed to yourself.

Outside it still rained, and occasionally thunder grumbled miles away. It was a serene sunday morning, but the sounds of nature wasn’t what made you grin from ear to ear. It was the sound of Nathan in the baby’s room, voice soft as he cooed good morning at your now pacified child.

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #life is strange #lis #imagine #scenario #fic #imaginefictionals

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