#imma put some goddamn moves on you!!!!

[ilikethissong]

Moves - Suki Waterhouse

I can't forget that night You said I looked like Suzi Quatro In the morning light, faded to oblivion And I said, "That's alright, at least we feel alive" At least we feel alive There's nothing you can do I know that I want this No one likes to lose Know that I got this I'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, I know you need it Die a double death for you, death for your secrets I'll find another way for you, wait 'til you see it Put some goddamn moves on you, God knows you need it I know you're in the city Should be spending all my time with you I can't forget that feeling even if I wanted to I know that you're scared someone's gonna ruin you Don't make it complicated Don't tell me what you're going through There's nothing you can do I know that I want this No one likes to lose Know that I got this I'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, I know you need it Die a double death for you, death for your secrets I'll find another way for you, wait 'til you see it Put some goddamn moves on you, God knows you need it You should know, you should know You should know that I want this, want this You should know, you should know You should know that I got this, got this You should know, you should know You should know that I want this, want this You should know, you should know You should know that I got this I'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, I know you need it Die a double death for you, death for your secrets I'll find another way for you, wait 'til you see it Put some goddamn moves on you, God knows you need it I'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, I know you need it Die a double death for you, death for your secrets I'll find another way for you, wait 'til you see it Put some goddamn moves on you, God knows you need it

[entiretorridaffair]

i can't forget that night you said i looked like suzi quatro in the morning light, faded to oblivion and i said, "that's alright, at least we feel alive"

[x-lunawrites-x]

Yours

Your attempt at making him jealous at a work party goes wrong...Or incredibly right?

Blade x fem! Reader smut

Word count: 1.1K

Content warning: sexual content/ established relationship/ fem bodied reader/ piv sex/ unprotected sex/ creampie/ semi public sex (in a closet)/ jealous Bladie

A/N: wrote this in a rush to just get the idea out of my head lol. It's not very good but imma post it for the sake of progress. Hope you enjoy!

Blade stares at you from across the room as you laugh at some random joke some random coworker of yours told. The problem isn't the guy, it's the goddamn short tight dress you're wearing. Well he's a part of the problem too, checking out your ass and buying you so many drinks Blade wonders if he actually thinks you're gonna sleep with him tonight.

Blade usually tries not to assume things but he's almost sure you're fucking with him.

He decides to approach you after a couple hours, it's not that he's possessive, he really isn't. At least not at first. But as the night goes on he can literally feel his blood start to boil. You're touching the guy's arm and drinking and laughing for god's sake!

You notice him as he approaches you and your colleague, and you decide to make your situation even worse. "oh hey" you then turn to your friend to introduce your partner to him. "This is Blade, he's a friend of mine"

Blade looks at you with the most confused look you've ever seen but you decide to play it cool and laugh it off until your colleague excuses himself to the bathroom.

"are you fucking with me?" he immediately asks with an irritated tone. He's sure that you are but he still doesn't know what else to say.

"what? What does that mean, Bladie?" you feign innocence as if this whole thing isn't just an elaborate ploy to grab his attention and make him a bit jealous.

"I know you are." he's not gonna entertain you anymore, he puts a hand on your waist as he stands next to you, he continues to whisper. "did you think you could get away with this easily? dressing all slutty and flirting with random guys. acting like you don't scream my name every night."

You start to finally realize the depth of what you're doing to him and the consequences that await you in a couple hours. The mere thought of it makes your brain feel fuzzy and warm.

"go get your coat from upstairs. we're leaving." he doesn't even ask for your opinion on it. It's a demand and you know when to meet his demands. He's had enough of the party and he just can't wait to get you home and teach you a lesson on 'how not to behave'.

You walk up the stairs and he can't help but stare at how your figure moves in that outfit until your dress shifts a certain way. He just can't take it anymore. He follows you upstairs quickly, catching you off guard as you step into the closet to find your coat.

"Hey wh- Blade? What are you..." he closes the door behind him and your sentence trails off. You know what he's doing. Your bodies are pressing against each other and there isn't much space to move. You can almost smell the lust in the air.

Blade isn't usually very rough but you're sure he's gonna fuck the mere idea of making him jealous out of you. He grips your chin tightly, making you look up at him. You can see his eyes glimmering even in the dim lighting.

Blade isn't one with a particular jealous streak. Or is he?

"is this what you want? Wearing no panties and laughing with guys just to get me to fuck you? Couldn't help yourself, yeah?"

You've never seen this side of him before, maybe due to the fact that you don't usually get into situations like this. But you're not sure what to say, your brain is a bit worried about what's coming but your cunt is getting wetter with every word he says. You certainly are gonna get what you wanted and you're gonna get more.

He trails his thumb on your bottom lip and you open your mouth before he even says anything, taking his finger into your mouth and sucking on it gently.

"now you're being obedient huh? Stay still and take it then, stupid brat"

he lifts one of your legs up with ease and you can feel the top of his cock line up with your entrance. He doesn't mess around or waste and time as he buries his thick cock inside you completely in one stroke. "aahhn! Blad-" he doesn't let you finish your sentence and slips his left index and middle finger into your mouth.

His action has a sense of dominance that makes your cunt clench around him and your tongue swirling around his fingers as you suck on them. He feels what he deos to you and he speeds up his thrusts, each one still somehow as hard as they could be.

You can only stand there and drool around his fingers as his cock rearranges your guts, your nails marking his skin as you hold on to his shoulders for balance. The room is filled with the smell of sex, the muffled sounds of your moans and his grunts against your neck whenever he completely sheathed himself inside you.

He's rougher than usual but you can sense intense emotions in his every move. He's pounding into you like he hates you but he's holding you like you're a part of his body. Like his lips are just meant to be on your neck and his hand belongs on your thigh. It's like you're a part of him, crucial to his existence.

He can feel you tightening around him again, close to cumming as tears roll down your cheeks and dampen your neck from how hard he's going. He speeds up his thrusts, getting a but sloppy but still as deep, aiming to get you both to your release.

"you're mine...You're mine. fuck...You-uhh you're m-mine."

His voice sounds desperate as he seems to lose his mind in the moment, shooting white ropes of sticky cum inside you, the feeling also pushing you over the edge as you cream on his cock.

He slowly takes his fingers out of your mouth, his face still buried in your neck and sucking on it gently as you take deep breaths, coming down from your high. You can't help but smile at the mantra that left his lips seconds ago.

Blade is a man with a jealous streak. He doesn't trust the world because he's scared it might take you away from him. And god knows it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm yours, I promise" You smile as you mutter the words, running your hand through his hair as he takes the soft smell of your hair into his lungs. "now let's get the hell out of here."

[kayesfanfics]

Before He Cheats (Striker x Fem! Reader)

Summary: You’re a farmhand on Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch. When your boyfriend cheats on you, Striker is there to pick you back up.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, cursing, sexual content

A/N: This is inspired both by Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood, and cowboy Pedro Pascal but with Striker, my fav cowboy. Also I’m like super proud of this ngl. Enjoy~

“That’s it, Sallie May! I’m burning down his house! His car! That fucker thinks he can sleep with some bitch and come crawlin’ back ta me?! Imma kill him! I will!” You ranted to your best friend, pacing back and forth in the family houses kitchen.

“I told ya that guy was no good, Y/N.” Sallie May shrugged from her spot sitting on the counter, watching you kick around the legs of a chair you had smashed to bits when you had gotten the text. Your boyfriend had cheated, and he only just now got around to telling you…THREE WEEKS LATER. He didn’t even have the balls to tell you in person, he had to do it over text so he didn’t face your wrath head on…but to be honest, that was a smart move. If he were here, you probably would’ve actually killed him.

“He told me I was different! He said he loved me!” You shouted, enraged and heartbroken.

“They always say that, darlin’.” A voice from somewhere behind you purred. You turned around, seeing the other farmhand of Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch.

“Hello, Striker.” You muttered, before finally bending down to pick up the ruined chair you had broken and had been tossing around the room, setting the pieces on the table.

“What’s with the chair?” Striker asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Y/N lost her shit.” Sallie May grinned as she hopped off the counter to grab a broom and sweep up the splinters of wood littering the floor.

“Aw, now why’s that, doll?” Striker asked, chewing on a piece of wheat.

“My goddamn boy-EX boyfriend, cheated on me weeks ago, and just now told me over TEXT! Can you believe that?! What kinda coward-“

“Oh, I can believe it. The men ‘round these parts are…sleazy.” He said, tossing the wheat piece in the pile of wood chips.

“Oh, excluding you, I presume?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well now, I ain’t no saint, but I’m no cheater. No honor in that.” He grinned as he approached you. “How abouts we head down to the bar, huh? Get some drinks, forget about that loser?”

“That…could be nice.” You admitted, blushing a little at how close Striker had gotten to you.

“What, I don’ get no invitation?” Sallie May piped up, grinning at you.

“Tell your mama I’m real sorry about the chair and I’ll fix it later. Please, Sallie May?” You whispered the last part to her. Everyone who had eyes had the hots for Striker, and she knew this could be a good lay to get your mind off your ex and move on quicker. So she finally nodded, and you winked at her before telling Striker you were gonna quickly change out of your dirty work gear.

You put something a little more bar-friendly on, making sure to choose a shirt that showed some extra cleavage, and a pair of jeans that made your ass look even better. Striker smirked and held an arm out for you to hold as he walked you out to his horse, Sallie May waving to you with a teasing grin on her face. You smiled when you reached Bombproof, petting the hell beast while Striker got the saddle ready, before helping you up and getting on himself. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he rode into town, heading to one of the nicer saloons in the area. Since you were deep in the country of Wrath, there was a place to tie your horse where they had a trough of water for them, and Striker held out his hand to help you off and walk you into the bar. The place was rather lively with twangy country music playing, some people watching some sports game on the tv, and others at tables eating or playing pool. You went up to the bar with Striker, ordering your first round and chatting with him.

“So, what was so great bout that little boyfriend of yours anyways? From what I heard from Sallie May, he was a real piece of shit.” Striker asked you as you took a swig of your drink.

“She got to you while I was upstairs, huh?” You chuckled, setting your drink down and rolling your eyes at your best friend.

“Oh yeah. Talked my ears off about how he “kinda-sorta” cheated before, he yelled at you a lot, you’re too forgivin’ of him, loved his car more than he loved you, yadda yadda.”

“That loud mouth.” You muttered under your breath before turning back to him. “Yeah, well, I learned my lesson. He was my first long term boyfriend, of course I let too much shit slide. But I won’ make that mistake twice.”

“Really? First boyfriend, huh?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Yer too pretty to just now have yer first boyfriend, sweet thing.” He winked at you before taking a sip of his drink, leaving you blushing up at him like some flustered schoolgirl.

“Quit that!” You smacked his arm playfully, knowing full well your face was red as a tomato. “I can’t imagine YOU’VE had many girlfriends yourself, tough guy.”

“And why’s that?”

“I don’ know, you don’ seem the type to like bein’ tied down is all.” You shrugged, tapping your nail on your glass.

“Yer right about that, I guess.” He sighed. “You got me, doll, I ain’t got much datin’ experience neither.”

“Oh? What about…experience with other relations?” You asked, a little more bold with some alcohol in your system.

“Whatcha mean by that, doll face?” Striker smiled back at you, both of you subconsciously leaning towards the other as you flirted.

You were about to answer, but man walked up to the both of you, knocking your drinks aside and the sticky liquid splashing all over you.

“Hey, watch it you-“ You were about to scold the person until you saw who it was. “You.”

“Yer gonna bitch at me bout cheatin while yer hangin off the arm of some random dick head?!” Your ex boyfriend yelled in your face drunkenly.

“Hey, back off her, dick head!” Striker shoved him off of you.

“Who the fuck are you anyways?” Your ex asked him, trying to puff out his chest and stand taller.

“Don’ matter, that ain’t how ya talk to her, sleaze bag.” Striker growled down at the man.

“Oh, so yer gonna hide behind this asshole, huh Y/N? I thought you were ‘sposed at be tough! You just gonna bend over fer him too?”

Your anger finally boiled over, and you pushed Striker aside to face your ex yourself. You decked him in the face so hard he fell backwards onto his ass, knocking over some other peoples table and getting food and drinks spilled all over himself. You glowered down at him, wanting to beat the shit out of him, but Striker snatched you up and dragged you out of the bar before you got into too much trouble. You yelled at Striker to let you go, squirming against his hold on you.

“Calm down, missy, before ya hurt yourself.” Striker said, only setting you down and letting go when you calmed down. You tried to rush past him back into the bar, but he was prepared and stopped you again.

“Let me kill him! Just a little!” You huffed as he drug you further away from the bar entrance.

“Not tonight, darlin’. Maybe another day, huh?” He suggested, letting you go again once you were drug out to the parking lot. You crossed your arms and pouted, needing to let your rage out somehow. Suddenly in your chaotic mind, a single thought stood out to you.

“His car.” You mumbled, looking around the parking lot.

“What’s goin on in that pretty lil head of yers?” Striker asked as he followed you, your eyes scanning the cars.

“His stupid fuckin’ car. He always loved that thing more than me.” You explained, smiling devilishly when you finally saw it. You went up to the souped-up sports car. “He spent more money on it than anything, its customized with some expensive ass shit.”

Striker grinned when he realized what you wanted to do. He even pulled a knife out of his belt and handed it to you, looking around for something else to use on the car. In a trash bin he saw a metal rod sticking put of it, so he grabbed it and watched you circle the nice car like a shark with its prey. The screech of metal on metal signaled you were digging the knife into he custom paint job, carving your name into it proudly. You got down and slashed his tires, stabbing them and watching them deflate before going to the other side of the car to give it the same treatment. Striker watched proudly as you destroyed this mans car, smirking and joining you not long after by smashing the windows in with the metal rod. You laughed when he joined in, stabbing the side of the car more and prying it open to give you access to the inside. You slashed his nice leather seats, tearing them to shreds and till the stuffing was falling out and flying in the air. You got out of the car and grabbed the metal rod from Striker, beginning to beat the shit out of this car, pretending it was your ex himself.

“Alright, alright, we gotta get outta here!” Striker said after letting you have your fun for awhile, but when some customers began to leave the bar, he knew it was time to go. You dropped the rod and took his hand, running off to the horses and getting on Bombproof while Striker untied him from the fence. You heard screaming in the distance, cackling when you realized it was your exes high pitched shrieks as he saw what had happened to his car.

“Come on, come on!” You laughed as Striker got on his horse, galloping away into the night. You listened to the screeches and screams of your ex with a smile on your face, reveling in the moment.

“He’s gon be so pissed when he sees your name on that thing!” Striker laughed loudly.

“So worth it!” You shouted back. “Thank you, Striker!”

“Not a problem, darlin’! You ready ta go home?” He asked as he slowed Bombproof down, far enough away from the bar you didn’t need to worry anymore.

“How abut we…” You smiled as your hands around his waist traveled further down his body. You felt hot and bothered after that adrenaline rush, and if you were being honest with yourself, you’ve been wanting to fuck this handsome cowboy for much longer than just tonight.

“One hotel room, comin’ up.” Striker smirked, before smacking his tail on Bombproof to make him run off. You held onto him as he raced the two of you to the nearest motel, tying Bombproof up at another fence before taking your hand and leading you to the front desk. Once the clerk handed him the room key, the two of you rushed up to the room together.

As soon as the door was opened, you turned Striker around to finally kiss him. He tasted of his drink and cigarettes, his lips rough but skilled as he kissed you back. He tapped on your thigh and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around him as he held you up, squeezing your ass through your jeans as he kicked the door shut behind him. He walked up to the bed, bending over to set you down as his lips never once left yours. You felt his bulge through his own jeans, his hips humping into your own, causing you to moan. He took the opportunity to stick his snake like tongue into your mouth, clawing at you as you pushed his jacket off his shoulders. He stood up to begin stripping, smiling as you watched himself shed his clothes intently.

“Been wantin’ to do this fer a long time, pretty girl.” He purred, now completely shirtless and his hat tossed across the room onto a lamp. He bent over you again, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You lifted your arms for him to take your shirt off and toss it over his shoulder, before his hands went under you to unclasp your bra. He lowly whistled when he saw your bare breasts, a hand squeezing one and playing with it while his mouth made its way to your neck, attaching to it with his teeth, leaving a bite mark before sucking a hickey into it. You moaned and arched your back, your chest pressing further into his hands as they both now groped your soft breasts, his breath heavy as he felt your body and marked you up with his mouth.

“Striker…” You moaned quietly, your own hands clawing at his back, leaving your own marks as well.

“We’re not at the farm, darlin’. We ain’t never gon see any of these people here, so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar~” He groaned as your hips started to grind into his.

“Then hurry up and make me scream~” You moaned, biting your lip as he stood back up, kicking his boots off before taking yours off, tossing them near the door.

He pulled at your jeans, and you lifted your hips off the bed so he could take them off of you. He then took his own jeans off, his bulge much more prominent now through the thin fabric of his boxers. You sat up on the bed and nearly drooled as you stared at his crotch, imagining what he looked like underneath those boxers. You looked up at him with doe eyes as you slid off the bed onto your knees, two fingers hooking under the waistband, looking up for a nod of approval before you slipped his boxers off of him, his hard-on slapping against his abdomen once set free.

“Fuck, Striker…” You drooled over him, licking your lips before kissing the tip of his cock. He groaned at your action, a hand instinctively tangling into your hair, pushing you closer to him. You obediently opened your mouth, letting him shove his cock into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged a bit at the contact, but slowly got used to it as your throat began to relax.

“Good girl…” Striker panted, his nails scraping your scalp, making you moan around his length. You slowly started to bob your head up and down his shaft, your tongue licking up and down the underside of his cock. Striker hissed as you sucked him off so good, hips bucking into your face as his grip on your hair tightened. “Fuck, Y/N! You must’ve never given that dipshit head, he never woulda cheated if you did!”

The reminder of your ex only made you more determined to make Striker cum down your throat. You wanted every thought of that loser to be replaced with Striker, every memory of sex to be with Striker instead of him. You began to bob your head faster and suck harder, Striker nearly stumbling over when you did that, holding onto the bed behind you for support as his eyes squeezed shut at your actions. He soon came down your throat, his hand holding you in place so that your nose was pressed up against his abs so not a drop spilled from your mouth. Once he came down from his high he let you go and backed up to give you room to stand, catching his breath as you sat back up on the bed in front of him.

“Shit, baby.” Was all he could say as he panted, more turned on now than ever as you batted your pretty eyes up at him. “Lay on back now, it’s time I returned the favor~”

You smiled sheepishly before lying back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched Striker kneel down in front of you, his own fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips for him once again to allow him to slip them off, a sexy grin adorning his face as he grabbed your thighs and propped them on either of his shoulders.

“Fuck me…” He muttered, kissing up your thighs and his eyes never leaving your glistening pussy. “Baby doll, you really are Satan’s favorite, huh?”

You didn’t have the chance to answer him, his tongue flicking over your clit stopping you. You whimpered at the feeling, it had been so long since you had received head from someone, and you knew his long tongue would hit the right spots. You moaned as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking softly but enough to have your head tossing back and our back arching off the bed. You whined out his name as you gripped at the sheets below you, his tongue flicking across your folds before delving into your hole. One of his hands let go of your thigh so his fingers could rub your clit in slow but firm circles, his tongue working inside of you. You squirmed on the bed but his other hand held you firmly, one of your own hands flying to grab one of his horns, pushing him further into your cunt. He let out a muffled moan of surprise, but didn’t argue as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, the hand on your thigh digging its claws into your soft flesh. You ground your hips into Strikers face, feeling yourself reaching the edge. You moaned out a warning to him, and he moaned into your cunt as his fingers rubbed your clit faster and his tongue went impossibly deeper inside of you. You let out a high pitched squeak at the feeling, loudly moaning out Strikers name as you quickly toppled over the edge, your hips and legs shaking and spasming from how intense your orgasm was. Once you settled down and Striker licked you clean, he finally stood back up and caged you between his arms, grinning down at you as you caught your breath.

“Fuck, cowboy…” You breathed out before leaning up to kiss him, moaning at the taste of yourself on his mouth.

“I got some more surprises fer ya, darlin’. You wanna do this ass up or not?” He asked. You answered him by crawling up further onto the bed, bending over for him. He grinned as he pumped his cock, crawling up to you and pressing his chest to your back, kissing the base of your neck to make you shiver as you hugged a pillow, preparing yourself for that addicting stretch you hadn’t felt in so long. “Ready?”

You nodded desperately, Strikers body pressing against yours left your skin burning for more of him. You moved a hand to reach for his, and he chuckled but intertwined his fingers with yours, before aligning himself and beginning to push into you. You squeezed his hand and moaned as his cock began to stretch you open, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut as you buried your face into the pillow below you. Striker kissed you on your bare shoulder as his thumb rubbed the back of your hand comfortingly, he own eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock. Once he was bottomed out, he awaited for you to tell him he could start moving. Your hips started to move against his, and he took it as a sign to keep going. He slowly pulled out halfway before snapping his hips back into you, smiling at the little squeak you let out at the action. He started moving his hips faster and faster, the hand holding yours being nearly crushed as you held onto it. You moaned lewdly as his cock hit that perfect spot inside of you, whining and beginning to shake as you felt yourself approaching an orgasm again already. Striker chuckled as he felt your cunt squeeze him and your breathing becoming erratic as you neared your high.

“Don’ be embarrassed, sweet thing, cum for me~” He whispered into your ear encouragingly, freeing his hand from your grip to pinch and rub at your clit, a choked moan escaping your lips as you immediately came around his cock, Striker groaning at how you squeezed around him so tightly.

“S-Striker!” You nearly screamed as your body shook violently beneath him.

“That’s right, Y/N, scream my name~” He panted as he felt himself nearing his second orgasm of the night. He continued to pound into you, screams escaping you as your sensitive pussy was being overstimulated. He pulled out briefly to flip you over onto your back, desperate to see your face. He shoved his cock back into you, your breasts bouncing at the force he used to fuck you into the mattress. You began to babble incoherently as your eyes crossed and rolled back, Striker smiling smugly at how you unraveled around him.

“I-I’m almost there, Y/N.” He warned you, your legs clamping around him now allowing him to pull out.

“C-Cum in me!” You whimpered, feeling yet another orgasm coming on.

“You sure?”

“Just do it!” You screamed, your claws digging into his back to keep him in place.

His hips shot into yours as he came, groaning and panting as you also came with him, your juices squirting all over his dick as you both clutched onto the other desperately. Once you both came down from your highs, Striker collapsed on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breaths as your grips loosened on the other. After a few minutes, Striker stumbled out of bed and grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wiping both of you down and tossing it onto the floor before getting back into the bed with you. He pulled you close, noticing your thighs still twitching from the intense squirting orgasm you had.

“Nobody’s…ever made me…d-do that…” You panted, tilting your head to face him, but not having the strength to move your body yet.

“Well…glad to be a stand out.” He chuckled as he looked at you with half lidded eyes.

“Striker…” You swallowed harshly. “I…”

“Save it for the mornin, doll.” He interrupted you, pulling you close to him and shutting his eyes. You nodded dumbly, not having the thoughts or energy to argue with him. Plus, this was nice, just being held by him so intimately, singing and letting morning you figure out your relationship with the man. For now, you just curled into his touch and buried your face into his chest.

[richardsphere]

Watching sublimation now

Ok they at least manage to sell Mari as genuinely interested in becoming her friend. (low bar, and i hate that i doubted they'd do even that). I think i figured out why Adrien and Sublime get along seemingly so well. (its the fact that they're both Disney Princess-parodies.)

---- Ok Mari... please no breaking the harp what the fuck is wrong with you. That'd be real messed up. Like legit "hero complex" shit. Honestly even the fact you're going out of your way to stalk her hoping to swoop in and "solve" a problem when she has one is kind of emotionally manipulative already... Like she's behaving like a fucking Friendship Vulture.

OH THANK FUCKING GOODNESS the string broke on its own. We havent sunk that low yet. (imma place a bet based on the currently-established tone of the character: Sublime fixes it herself by using her magic hair as a replacement string. Disney Princess-shit) MOTHERFUCKER THAT WAS ME JOKING. ---- as an aside... I think the fact that Mari has fallen so far from "normal girl"-status that they need a gold-medal winning paraplegic, 3-instrument virtuoso disney princess to make her feel self-concious in comparison is probably a bad sign in and off itself tbh. Like Sublime feels lika a writing-room admission that Mari just plain isnt relatable to real children anymore. (note: the paraplegic thing is relevant cause it draws on that whole "inspiration porn"-thing to make Sublime even more perfect.) --- Adrien is trying to get his two friends to meet. Which is nice. Tikki is starting to feel a bit ashamed of Mari's behaviour. (at least someone in the writers room must've realised this isnt looking too good) Ok, i thnk i just heard Blond!-parent refer to Grey!-Parent by name. but i cant make it out so i'll refer to them as Blond and Gray until it's more clear. I dont like the way that Blond!parent seems to be legitimising that old "disabled people need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and learn to adapt"-mentality. Like i know its just 1 scene, and might not be reprasentative of her overall character. But first impressions matter y'know.

---

Ok i dont like defending this minor moment, but i will acknowledge that its hard for a person who doesnt usually hang out with amputee's to mentally connect that "proshtesis mean the part is detachable" (that should be clearly part of the definition, but there's a difference between knowing in theory and mentally adapting to the reality). So Mari's conclusion that Sublime had been vaporised isnt as stupid in-universe as it obviously is out of universe. (Also, is her name really "sublime"? Like i get that some people name their kids shit like "Hope" and "Faith" but "Sublime", what kind of pressure to put on your kid) --- Ok so Sublime is doing some really weird self-hypnosis pep-talk in the mirror. (some kind of trauma, presumably from whatever lost her the legs....)

Ok mari... dafuq was this supposed to help you? And she supers-up for selfish reasons. (didnt Tikki use to say that the powers werent supposed to be used for selfish reasons. I sure hope that the show actually starts letting the implied concequences occur sometime) --- Ok so we're just plain-up not supposed to like Blond!parent. Good to know. Yup mom is definitly using the name as a form of emotional blackmail "you must excell and be amazing and perfect or you wont live up to my expectations, which is why you're named what you are named". ok we see the tiny bubbles as she steps, showing that mari did fuck this shit up before she transformed into Bug. But at least it isnt intentional... like its clearly her fuck-up clearly her mistake but the out-of-context i read when i woke up this morning at least misrepresented the intentionality. (though no, it did not misrepresent the guilt). --- Oh the "hands in front of mouth-what did i say" screenshot i saw posted above the "we moved Revalator forward in season" announcement is from sublimation. thats a fucking goddamned relief, at least a sliver of a chance that episode isn't a "truth-telling" akuma. Still likely given the name, but now its at a 25-30% chance of a rescheduled, early-season Gabriel reveal instead of 55-60% estimation. --- Welp. Sublimation's very fist use of her power is mental/psychological. That removes one possible defense for the "mari shrugs off Self-Improvement Magic" allegation. (I didnt want to root for "the mom's idea of Improvement is limited to the physical body" cause it'd be ableist. But it'd have been some degree of cover for "Global Gaslighter isnt affected by the power" if it was just physical) Blonde's name is Caroline. --- Oh now i understand why they had to establish that Sublime and Family are from Out Of Town. If they didn't establish that, this entire fight ends right there. at the "release the akuma and I promise i fix everything" line. (cause she cant World-Healing-Wave without the Akuma). --- Next scene and... goddamn it mari wasnt even TALKING about the magical reset-bugs when she talked about fixing it.

And she has a magic pager that can reach Adrien in his civilian identity now. That is new, (it's also not-yet established, and feels like a big violation of the "Mari cant know Chat's Identity" rule because its not established how it reaches Civilian!Adrien) ---

No you arent volunteers, you two were drafted by an ancient cultist, and you've made it repeatedly clear that as far as YOU (lb) are concerned, no one is allowed to retire, or even refuse service should you decide to bring them a miraculous. Even if they have very good reasons to make that decision (IE: Chat in the New York Special) they cannot leave. This show is setting some very dangerous lessons about the nature of "volunteering".

Ok so the source Im watching the episode on is definitly incomplete and begins cutting left-and-right at this point. going straight from Chat putting Bob in the trash, to cat mid-sentence on a roof. Doesnt even show LB getting hit. So i have found a more full, less choppy version of the episode. But that one is entirely in spanish. Which i dont speak. So im going to watch the choppy-edited scenes in english, then go back to the spanish one until it catches up with the english. (its the best i can do right now) I might still miss a thing here-and-there so full disclosure. God spanish-cat has a deep voice. Yup they just tank the hits like claimed. "Our characters are perfect, no potential for growth or development left in this show". This scene is the equavalent of "you can stop watching the show now". THE EVERLOVING FUCK IS AN "ANTIKUMA"? Like Lila just gets the ability to make her Akuma's turn into a giant "superpower-sealing" laserstorm? --

Ok so the show now acknowledges that Mari was the one in the wrong. (hence the mirror). But it also claims that Mari cannot improve because she is so perfect it renders her immune to personal improvement magic. Cant have it both ways here. I guess you could argue that Sublimations´ Improvement Powers dont actually do mind-controll, they make people better and that means they could only make Chat and Bug better heroes thus guaranteeing a beat-down when they get hit. But that still feels like mixed messaging if the episode is meant to end on the "the mirror meant you were the villain" conclusion.

--- Ok so... Lila was in the audience. Which suggests its actually marinette that she's stalking. (Ilustrhater implied she was stalking the date between Mari and Adrien, but failed to imply further. So having it clarified which of the two she's going after is actually important). I dont like it tbh, Lila's motivation for going after Marinette is shallow unless its a stable-timeloop where she's just following orders from her future-self about doing the things that let her future self know Mari is Ladybug down the line. (And im of the opinion time-loops are kind of a shallow motivation themselves) At least stalking Adrien would make sense because she has Gabriels' files, and knows Gabe once suspected Adrien as a possible Cat. Either that or Lila just plain knows mari is ladybug, which would go against the entire point of the london special. --- Looming Tomoe is ominous. It also feels strangely xenophobic? like the way the shot lingers on the city of paris framed by a Japanese Dojo, Bonsai tree and Japanese swordrack? it feels like a shot that is meant to warn the audience against the threat that "foreign influence" poses to "our beloved homeland". Having representations of Japan "swallow" the capital like that feels mighty deliberate. And i dont know if thats me over-analysing one shot or not, it just feels uncomfortable. Unless we're gonna have an extremely ableist "she was only pretending to be blind so people would underestimate her"-reveal, the looming shot of her looking out at the city she is ready to conqueer doesnt work unless she's y'know: looking out over the city she is looking to conquer.

--- Well... at least the episode proper is better then the things i heard out of context made it sound... but only ever-so slightly. Im happy that at least the broken prosthesis was clearly an accident, even if none of the lead-up to it felt anything but forced. (not out of character, forced. Mari's decision feign a Soap-Based-Akuma makes no sense) But the mixed messaging is fucking blatant. Simultaniously saying "Mari is in the wrong this episode" and "Mari is perfect and even actual magic cannot improve her" is kind of bad. In review: Could've been worse, should've been better.

[j-onedrabbles]

𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒆𝒏: 𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒎𝒂 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒑 cw: **THIS CHAPTER MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME READERS AS SEX*AL ASSAULT AND HARASSMENT ARE TALKED ABOUT DUE TO FAE AND NYMPHOLOGY IN GENERAL.** insecurities towards dating, body insecurities (i think you could call it that? idk? imma put it there anyways), food, mention trauma dump, chef lee know, mad lee know for a second wc: 1.2k a/n: I changed up some mythology for sake of story with siren/mermaids bc all I heard was the goddamn h2o meme

Minho hummed to the music that played at a low volume throughout his apartment as he moved through the kitchen. Slightly dancing as he cooked dinner. He only started cooking when Y/n texted him she was on her way over to his place, stopping when he heard a knock on the door almost twenty minutes later.

Minho wiped his hands with the kitchen towel before heading to the front door. He smiled at the girl on the other side and invited her in. “welcome.”

“Thanks,” Y/n smiled back.

Minho closed the door and headed back to the kitchen while she set her stuff down and slipped her sneakers off.

“Smells good,” Y/n commented as she joined him in the kitchen.

“Thanks. I might have texted Jisung and asked what your favorite was,” the dancer admitted

“How badly are you trying to impress me?” Y/n joked

“Depends if it’s working.”

“A little.”

Minho smirked as he continued cooking. “Do you need help with anything?”

“I got it. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

Minho took a break from the food and grabbed her a glass of water, “Don't turn into a fish on me.”

“You don't have to worry about that. I only have my tail when I’m in the Fae realm.”

“I thought it was whenever you touched the water?”

“False narrative. I think it just adds plot to the media when we randomly get wet and become a fish.”

“Is it possible if you go in the ocean? Like, seawater?”

“Don’t know actually. Never really go to the ocean.”

“Do you want to?”

Y/n shrugged, “Maybe if no one was there.”

Minho hummed in response as he went back to cooking. Y/n watched him work, cooking looked like it was second nature to him. She really could watch him cook all day. Especially while he danced to the music that played through his apartment. If this was what dating Minho was like, she’d want this every day.

“Can I ask you a question?” Y/n asked, nerves starting to set in.

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to come out as me seeming conceited, but uhm, why do you like me?”

“Well,” Minho sighed as he finished cooking, “at first it was because you were hot.”

“Thanks,” Y/n giggled as he turned to face her.

“But, and not to sound like a creep, I started watching how you interacted with people, or better, noticing how you interacted with people–”

“I like the latter explanation better.”

“Yeah, well, I noticed how you interacted with people– fae or human– and you were so nice, despite how some humans treat you. I think I started liking your personality and then Jisung introduced us. I don’t know if it’s because you’re fae but I’ve been, drawn to you, for lack of a better explanation.”

“Probably because I’m fae, honestly.”

“Maybe. I think if you were human, I still would have fallen for you.”

“Really? You think you would have?”

“You don’t think I would have?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Minho grabbed her hands, “What’s this about?”

Y/n sighed and looked down at their hands, “can we sit?”

Minho nodded and led them over to the couch in his living room. Minho ran his thumb over her knuckles as he waited for her to talk.

“I… I don’t think bad of you Minho, but, there’s no way for me to say it other than, I don’t want to feel like I’m a body to you...”

“Someone’s made you feel like that before?”

“A lot of people, actually,” Y/n couldn’t look him in the eyes, “If you couldn’t tell already, it’s made me a little insecure about dating.”

“Come here,” Minho tugged her into a hug. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest, “I generally, never want you to feel like that, with me or anyone again.”

“There’s… more too…”

“You don’t need to tell me tonight. I can tell it was hard enough for you to tell me about your insecurities.”

“I think it’s better you know before we get serious,” Y/n sat up and looked at him

“You want to take this past hanging out at parties and drinking with our friends?” Minho’s voice was laced with a comedic sarcasm

“Even though we technically met less than a week ago, yes?” Y/n felt her cheeks flush a bit at her answer

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” Minho smiled

“Can we get back on topic? It’s serious,” Y/n steered back to the original conversation.

“I’m listening.” Minho squeezed her hand as reassurance. Y/n took a deep breath.

“You know the general mythology of fae, specifically nymphs, right?”

“Love music and dance but unfortunately they’ve dealt with sexual assault and harassment because of their beauty,” Minho answered, then it hit him. “Have you—”

“Yeah. That’s kinda why I asked earlier why you liked me. Anyone else that’s showed any interest has just looked at me as a pretty fae they can get with.”

Minho stood and paced his living room a bit. He wasn’t completely unaware of how disgusting people could be, but it hits harder when you find out it’s someone you like or someone you’re close to. “Min…?”

He couldn’t be mad right now. Especially when the girl he grew feelings for over months of just admiring from afar was trusting him with something like this. He took a deep breath and crouched down in front of her. “I know, you probably don’t want to hear an apology—”

“You have nothing to apologize for Min,” Y/n held his face in her hands as she looked into his eyes. “I didn’t tell you for some pity party. It’s something I've dealt with in the past that I thought you should know. I’m not gonna lie, sometimes it still affects me. I didn’t want to keep it from you and something happen between us and I just randomly push you away…”

“Promise to tell me when you’re going through it? Even if you don’t want to be around me, rant to me. I can’t promise I won’t get mad about the fact it happened but I want to be someone you turn to with your issues. We’ll take this thing between us slow, okay?”

“Why are you so perfect,” Y/n felt like crying. Only her friends have ever gotten mad for her about something like this. “Promise me the same? You’ll come to me when you’re having a bad day?”

“I will,” Minho cupped her cheeks and wiped away the tears that hung under her bottom lashes.

“God. I didn't mean to trauma dump. I feel like I've been doing that since we met,” Y/n chuckled awkwardly

“It’s okay. Trauma tends to shape us more than we like to admit,” Minho laughed with her a bit. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

The two went back into the kitchen and Minho served the food. It hadn't gotten too cold just yet but he still offered to warm it up.

“Holy shit! This is amazing Min!” Y/n exclaimed

“Good. I'm glad you like it.” Minho smiled

“You might just have to cook for me all the time now,” Y/n joked

“I’ll cook for you whenever you want. Just ask.”

←PREV|NEXT→ MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

taglist: @xxoche3erryxxo @iadorethemskz @maeleelee @morningstardada @sungookie @mistlitmoonlight @junebug032 @m111nho @slay-and-gay

[forsty]

1 5 6 7 8 9 21 40 41 42 for the movie/film ask bait (i hope it's not too many i'm sorryyyyy) <3

what is your favorite film of all time?

THIS QUESTION AGAINNNNN.... answered it here !!

5. name a movie you put on to cry to

I never put on a movie for the sole reason for it to make me cry, I'm an easy crier so I really don't need to put something on for that reason 😭I tend to avoid putting on movies like that because it can be really goddamn exhausting, so if I'm gonna watch a movie I KNOW will make me cry I gotta be mentally prepared for it. Some real tearjerkers are the Homeward Bound movies and Hachi: A dog's Tale

6. do you prefer movie theaters or your couch?

I do kinda prefer my own couch cause the movie theater in my town is very small and not super comfortable (they have upgraded in the later years, it used to be worse). But I do love going to the theater too!

7. name a movie you’re emotionally attached to?

answered here!

8. what’s your comfort film?

answered here!

9. guilty pleasure movie?

Imma be entirely honest and say I don't really believe in the whole guilty pleasure thing (FOR ME personally, not for other people!). After I started enjoying things wholeheartedly and not care about being cringe and all that, the whole "guilty pleasure" kinda lost all meaning to me. I think the CLOSEST thing might be the Twilight movies? I don't really like those movies and really don't care for them but I do LOVE how they did the werewolves. I like watching those scenes with them big woofers

21. favorite animated film?

Probably Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron (2002) ! The way they animated and told the story with animals that don't even speak, facial expressions and body language REALLY gets to me. I think it's awesome and very unique. I can't think of any other animated movie that has done that and done it so well.

40. a film you think everyone should see at least once

41. name three movies you consider “classics”

Waterworld, JAWS, Harley Davidson and The Marlboro man

42. show me a pic of your favorite movie poster

I had this poster on my wall for like a decade before I moved out so it holds a very special place in my heart

[arcplaysgames]

This is a small complaint but I wish the game provided some subtitles for the text on the screen. I feel like I'm going to miss context on some things that would have been obvious if I could tell what things were saying.

Anyway, I think we have secured our mandatory Buddy Guy party member. In a bit he says his name is Ryuji, so I'm gonna just call him that. While walking down a creepy alleyway to get to school, they find a big imposing castle instead.

And rather than, idk, turning around and assuming they took the wrong way, these idiots go inside to ask around.

Not to be harsh but y'all deserve what's about to happen.

Captured and thrown into another goddamn motherfucking jail cell, why is Reverie's life just moving from literal jail cell to metaphorical jail cell and back again. Gee, Atlus, are you trying to tell me something? Trying to build a motif here?

So the interesting thing to me is that Ryuji literally referred to Kamoshida as the king of a castle. Might be a coincidence, might be foreshadowing. I'm gonna keep an eye out for any convenient moments like that with later dungeons.

So far, this game feels like a pond full of red herrings.

Shadow Kamoshida is ready to straight up murder Ryuji, so it's time to get our Persona on.

ALRIGHT THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN ABOUT. We went from the edgelord-but-thematically-resonant evokers to the completely pedestrian "oh imma crush a card"

to TEARING A BLOODY MASK INTO THE FACE

Give me some FUCKING drama, thank you! Also, Reverie is goaded into doing this by his persona, taunting him about sitting by helplessly, and did he regret helping that woman? Is he a punk-ass wimp? Is he gonna sit aside like a punk-ass wimp?

NAH. TEAR YOUR FACE OFF. Excellent.

okay our first persona looks a bit like a vaudevillian, but this is an improvement from The God Of Salarymen so

After a tutorial fight, we lock up ARGH PUT THAT AWAY!!!

bruh why the fuck you barefoot and pantless in the dungeon of your castle, isn't that cold? put on something, jesus.

oh shit we already got the mascot character. well, you're not as cute as Teddie, but Teddie wound up being literally one of my favorite characters in P4G so I have high hopes already.

all persona protagonists are cat people, fucking excellent.

oh okay not a cat. what appellation would you prefer?

THE NOT-CAT HAS A PERSONA

THE NOT-CAT HAS THE PERSONA ZORRO

SURE OKAY

After another tutorial fight, Morgana The Not-A-Cat-Thanks tells me to use some items to increase my HP and what is this. what is this menu. oh my god.

I wanna call it "maximalist" but that term doesn't even seem adequate enough, what the fuck is beyond maximalism? Fuck me. It's not just the stark colors, it's not just the overuse of fonts, it's not just the way everything kinda bounces and jiggles, it's not just the hard contrasts and color inversions.

covers eyes with a hand

okay moving on, Morgana helps Reverie and Ryoji-- GODDAMMIT that is the fourth time I have made that typo. Ryuji, Morgana helps them escape the castle but claims to have unfinished business and remains themself.

Already, I am eyeing Ryuji and taking stock. He seems like a nice dude but not very quick on the update. Most of his lines so far are going "what is this, what is happening, someone esplain pls" where Junpei and Yosuke would be trying to hazard a few guesses about wtf is happening. Try to keep up, Ryuji, there's a lot of game to come and we need someone to puzzle through mechanics.

thanks, Siri.

We're out of the weird castle, but the worst thing ever has happened: we're late for our first day of school.

I mean, Sae, I would assume it was because the violations. "Here is some of the horrible things he did, anyway, why'd you attack him" like come on, you're a detective or prosecutor or something right.

anyway after the mandatory transfer student intro, YO WHAT IS UP WITH THIS KID? WHY IS A KID WHO IS CLEARLY INJURED JUST SITTING HERE? WHY ARE THEY "WELL-BEHAVED"

what the fuck is with this school, do they employ corporal punishment and this kid accidentally dropped his pencil during quiet time, what the fuck

okay it's late, goodnight. i'm going to sleep and dream of a place where people aren't jerks. it's called Iwatodai.

[maroonagain]

Maroon Exists: the blog Topic: Friends

Hey, tis I Maroonagain. This is the first time doing this type of blog things, I heard it's good for me to write my feelings out like this from a parental figure, so here its goes nothing. A big ass issue used struggle with pure daily is Attention, Validation, and Social Skills.

I believed that, yeah, this is mostly on me, I dont really know how to talk to people normally or know how to carry a convo like a normal ass person. Shits been happenin my whole life, so would could blame me. So Imma tell you a tale on how my ass came out of the dumps and kinda got my life on track. I was heavly neglected back in my school years (3-12 apox), mainly because I was the weird kid that no one really liked. Most convos that involved me back in middle basically boiled down to this:

no one wanted anything to do with me. They hated my art, hobbies, lunch, hair do, humor, music taste, even my clothes. Getting validation was very hard at that point in time, because everyone just ignored me because I was the cringe kid. I was a very terrible talker, I struggled to say words right and often shuddered or break eye contact. Middle school just sucked. The only good thing about MS was the fact that back in 8th grade I got put into computer programing class. That was the only point in my life where I felt validated with others and had decent talks, mainly about video games and art which I'm into. It felt like the class was meant for me, because it was a class with a bunch of weirdos like me that didn't quite fit in with other peeps.

It felt like people understood me, as you can tell I got along with that class just fine, and, get this, I actually made A FRIEND that I TALKED TO. Crazy I know. At that point in time I hadn't had a friend sense 5th grade. Want to hear something crazier, he lived apox 5 minutes from me. He was the coolest dawg u wouldn't even believe omg. Every weekend or so I would come over to his house and play Smash or Minecraft it was the coolest. Overtime my friend status start to grow, I met someone from my classes who liked my art, found a kid who loved my weird ass humor. I kinda sort of improved on my talking skills, not by much, but I was improving, I still couldn't keep eye contact with people, but I was IMPROVING. Then I found someone, someone I had a crush on, someone that was so cool like my friend but nerdier and had really goddamn impressive art even of a middle schooler. She rocked my world.

Ofc she didn't know I had a crush on her for obvious reasons, but still, I really wanted to be with her. It seemed like my life was going up and I actual friends. I had attention and I had validation and people to talk to, that all I ever wanted sense the 3rd grade. It left like everything I have worked for from that moment payed off.

But when life giveith

life takeith away

I lost all my friends in a matter of one whole ass summer, why you might ask, well its simple. Most of my friends in the friend group where in 7th Grade, I was in 8th. And the two close friends that where in 8th, gone too. My friend who I used to play smash and minecraft with went to another school and never talked to me again. And the girl I had a crush on had to move to Oregon. The worst part of all of this? I never got her number, I was too afraid to ask. Life's a bitch, aint it?

So okay cut to 9th grade, I had to start back at square one with validation from others. I thought it'll be a walk in the park, just do the same thing I was doing before and I'll be fine. One issue though, you know those kids who though I was weird? Yeah they went to my school, they told other kids I was weird. I was back to being the weird kid that no one liked. Great.

Then for some weird ass reason they found out that I had a little thing called autism. Most people ignored me like the plague. My convo skills suffered and my ass was stuttering even more than I was used to. They called my interests shit, they hated my guts.

One person told me that I was a friend-less freak and that I would die alone.

For the record I wasn't miss-perfect goody two shoes either, I let this shit slide and I let myself get that bad because I was so knee deep in the lack of validation that I just gave up dude. Instead of focusing on myself, I focused on how the fuck I can make people smile and make people remember my name at least. But everything I did made people stay clear of me even MORE. So well yeah oops.

So half of the school year is left, what do I do? Sense I know my ass aint getting friends anytime soon irl and I'm pretty desperate for attention, where do I look? Do I look under this rock?

Do I check in a book?

Do I check in this cup?

I give up and check the internet, maybe that will help.

After searching for a while I found this little thing called Discord, a free program that helped people chat with others with similar interests. I signed the fuck up on that shit with no hesitating at all. My ass was talk to people no matter what. My user name was Waluigi31 and the first EVER server I joined was the pizza tower discord server. My ass was READY to make some friends, online or offline!!!! Of course it wasn't all smooth sailing, remember, my ass had zero social skills and knowledge of how tf friends worked, so basically my first day on discord boiled down to this:

Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh. It's a start. Eventually I stared to adapt and grow and learn things on how this fabled mystical program worked. So I set up some rules for myself on a google doc so I remembered the do's and donts: RULE 1: dont @everyone that's annoying RULE 2: dont spam that's annoying RULE 3: if your under 18 do not go into 18+ servers dumbass, they are for mature ass people only (side note: even though I am 18, I still dont feel mature and act mature, working on that tho) RULE 4: KEEP ON TOPIC AND READ THE ROOM IF NEEDED RULE 5: dont fuck every 5 seconds that's annoying After that I was on my own, sure most people ignored me and my presence, but I was noticed and even liked, and that's all that mattered to me. I started to share art and people enjoyed that enough. Looking back on it.

yeah these where terrible sorry. BUT PEOPLE LIKED THEM AND THAT MADE ME FEEL ALL WARM INSIDE SO WHO CARES. Eventually I started to spread my legs and enter another server, it was a tf2 server, dont really remember much about it except that I met my first ever friend there. I don't really remember much about them but they invited me to another server then I met another person and they invited me to their server and then I met someone really important. Their name, Dem Apples. Their mission, start an minecraft smp. Apples was the first ever person that I truly interacted with on a daily basis, and was the first every person that I sort of kinda held a convo with.

I was still hella terrible at my social skills but, fuck, I was very validated and had actual friends that I could hang with. I made a truckload of new friends on that little smp server and it felt like I was part of a friend group, we even had inside jokes that no one would understand (thus moment). I spend new years with their asses celebrating. Then something crazy happened, well, 2020 happened lets be honest. The flu swept the world and everyone was locked inside washing everything they can so they cant get the measles. The outside world stopped, but yet the online world grew. My friendship with apple and others grew closer and I changed my name to waluigi31 to MarioGaming69, I wish I hadn't but here we are. My pfp was the Mario World small mario sprite on a gaming chair that I made in scratch because I didn't have a pixel art maker to work with besides shitty mspaint. 2020-2021 is where i felt my confidence start to grow with friends. Online learning sucked tho, that wasn't good, wish school was just canned for the year because of the fever pandemic but yeah, grades plummeted. I just watched old smosh the entire time.

Okay it's 11th grade now, my confidence is up, my talking skills are good enough, lets make some friends

3 months go by my ass still has zero irl friends

I'm out of options, I have no where to sit for lunch, I'll sit here I guess

Little did I know I just made the best goddamn move of my life

This is where I met the boys, a friend group to call my own. FINALLY. our asses did everything, you name it we did it. Went to the movies. Danced at dances. Went to Prom. Stole oranges. Dumped a fuckton of milk into the toilets. Called each other gay. Found a phone and found a fuckton of porn and said phone. We all lived life to the fullest and I felt as if I had people that actually cared about my ass, for the first time in my 17 year old life. I finally had that validation and attention that I've always wanted. But I got more than that, I made people who where weird just like me, and felt one with the group. I wouldn't trade that year of High for anything. Sadly they where all 12th graders and they all left after they graduated, but they gave me their discord group chat and we are still doing dumb shit even to this day, like watching family guy in a Tesla. If any of the boy are reading this, thank you for making my life not a living hell and making my 11th grade year the best High School year of my life. You guys still continue to bring big ass goofy smiles across my face. BUT THATS NOT ALL BECAUSE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2022 I FELT LUCKY AS HELL AND DECIDED TO MAKE A FABULOUS TWITTER ACCOUNT

This was a terrible idea and probably made my mental health worse but GODDAMN did I make some wonderful friends on there.

(I love you guys btw your awesome) It seemed like life was starting to get good, until fall hit It started with a cough, my little sister was sick and we all thought it was just the flu or a fever, it was that season. Then she got worse, very worse. We had no idea what was happening to her or what this was, it seemed as if it was worse than a common cold or fever. My mom took her to the doctor and they couldn't tell what it was. Then in September 16th, My Mom and Step dad took my two sister to a Rodeo with some friends. My little sister passed out, they had to take her to the ER. Then they called. She had cancer. This hit me like a truck. They said it was very curable but we didn't know for sure. My mental health dropped, all focus went on my sister and everyone though I was fine so they ignored me, I wasn't fine. I was too far gone for fine. Something new came into my life that day, anxiousness. I started to get anxious about everything. What do people think about me, are my friends ignoring me, what if my art isn't good enough, what if I'm not good enough. At that point I needed validation for something else, to cure my anxious body and to rest my soul. Something that I'm still struggling to fix even to this day. I started to harm myself, I went to the hospital multiple times because of times i tried to kms or talked about killing myself. I was so scared and so depressed that I lost all control of my life. This led to me making the worst mistake of my life, meeting someone and them grooming me. It started with a simple message, then it went into manipulation, then they did sexual acts to me. I was 17 at the time. I was desperate for someone to love me and to have care for me. But one day I realized, I was getting taken advantage of. Without my friends and then bf I wouldn't have made that callout post and to finally be free from them (if you are reading this, thank you, I'm still grateful even to this day you helped me and got me through it). Their effects on me lasted until March when I finally started to talk to my therapist about it and finally get it taken care of. I lost some friends at that time. I'll never forgive myself for what I did. But I realized that its okay for this to happen and shit to suck sometimes, you have to take the bad with the good, and sometimes to get to the end of the shitty ass tunnel of gloom and doom your ass need to run fast and work hard to get to the light outside. After that I decided to improve on my social skills after a falling out I had with a friend, I realized FINALLY in order for a relationship to work, both parties must be involved and also maybe dont rant to the other party without waring. Idk how I didn't know both of those things before but here we are. I ALSO realized that maybe I wasn't a man or a woman, maybe I'm a little bit of both.

After that life started to get sweater, my lil sis got better and was able to get home, she's still fighting cancer but she's kicking cancers ASS rn, I'm very proud of her. After a tough break-up I found a new partner that was the most caring gal in the world (oh yeah did i mention i found love? Life pretty goddamn crazy I know). Met a new irl friend (mittens hi) and have been interacting with them almost everyday, they are fun as hell to talk to. Also met a some online friends too!!!!! they are swagballs. Got a job thats pays extremely well (19 PER HOUR!?!?!?!?!). Overall, shits been banging. I'm still FAR from perfect, today wasn't so hot and I realized that maybe I need to work on actually being mature and work on my mental health a tiny bit more, but I still have my sick ass friends by my side to help me out. Maybe my life aint so terrible awful and gay after all. Maybe it wasn't about attention or validation, maybe it was about my ass getting some cool friends to share some interest with and for them to make me smile and make me feel all happy inside. You shouldn't go through this weird place called life alone, grab some friends they will make a journey funner. Damn my parents where right Blogs are fun to write. That's all for today, needed to get that out of my system, love u all! Have a good Night, Day, Noon, Whatever Until next time!

Song recommendation: House of Wolves by My Chemical Romance Great ass song, love the guitars and the rhythm is nice. Its a solid 9/10.

[bolontiku]

Fuck People

I don't understand why these fucking people think imma be nice to them.

Maybe it because when I was young I did whatever my parents told me to. Be a good Christian girl, dress nicely, mind your manners, Christian girls speak less and act more.

Fuck all of you.

Had an appointment today. Family went with. Getting ready to leave I notice someone is watching me. Ignore it. The brother walks closer to me as some chick approaches me, the sister coming up behind us. "Oh!"

She smiles "omg! Tiku! I haven't seen you in such a long time!" Moves in and hugs me.

Me, absolutely floored that someone is touching me, "oh- yeah, oh this is happening?! Your touching me!"

"Why have you disappeared?!"

Me extricate myself from her, "ew, because I hate all you people and honestly everyone can go fuck themselves."

She is completely offended, but since we are in a public space she laughs fakely and "oh wow! Haha okay, so good to see you!"

"Tell them I said they can go FUCK themselves and I hope they die." 😃

Fuck outta here! I spent my childhood fucked over because of that goddamn family. I don't speak to them because of their high and mighty holier than thou stupid fucking Christian hierarchy. They looked down on my dad for marrying "the maid" and always treated my mom like she still worked for them.

I hope they fucking burn and die. And when they do may they get a glimpse of their so-called heaven, right before they get sent to hell to fucking burn. Assholes.

She was trying to touch the brother too, but he literally glared at her and when she moved towards the little sister we put ourselves between them. Like. The fuck?! No. You don't get to fuck with us anymore. Your not fucking allowed.

Fuck People. Fuck 'family'.

[0fft0neverland]

I’m part of the people who agree (music in general ngl buttttt) house music, edm, etc… makes you horny as HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.

It just gets you so excited and blood pumping. Recreates the joy and feeling of being in love and having fucking fun. It’s too goddamn good Jesus Christ. I love music so so sooooo much. Dance is right after that because with music you put the emotion into sound and with dance that emotion becomes physical omfggggggg.

I feel music SO deeply. Like I can’t put into words the relationship I have with music. That shit has some drug input into because goddamn. Music and words, literature, were my “friends” growing up. I was validated through them. A love I have that will never be squandered. No matter what genre, story, decade, I love it all and feeeeeeel that shit as much as I can. And don’t event get me started of creating music… ohhhh I how I miss that gorgeous special feeling of performing & creating magic. How everything came together. 😭 and then dance?!

Every single goddamn person on this earth can dance. If you say no, BULLSHIT. I love peoples true expressions of self.. ugh it’s absolutely beautiful. Feel that emotion, the rhythms, let it out in the way you instinctively move to… don’t overthink.. just let go.

Absolutely beautiful. Movie magic moments.

Same with singing, yea people may not be your standard pretty voice but let them have their moment. Sing it babyyyyyy girl/boy!!!! FEEL THAT SHIT YOU ARE VALID AND DESERVE TO FEEL AND PRESENT YOUR EXCITEMENT!!!

Maybe I need to stfu??? 💀

imma go vibeeeee

maybe in the pool? gaming? movie watching ??

Hmmmm

[entiretorridaffair]

imma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, I KNOW YOU NEED IT!!!! die a double death for you, DEATH FOR YOUR SECRETS!!! i’ll find another way for you, WAIT TIL YOU SEE IT!!!!! put some goddamn moves on you, GOD KNOWS YOU NEED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mellow-island7]

Twitter Drafts

was writing down my twitter drafts in a word document cause i'm gonna deactivate my twitter again cause i'm getting overwhelmed again by everything and thought i'd share some of these on tumblr lol

These drafts start from now (8/23/23) and go all the way back to i think like a year ago or something like that, some of the drafts are unfinished but yea anyways heres some of them

(pt 1)

(ps my bad i probably sound like an asshole in some of these, i was really sad and have been stuck in a perpetual shit cycle for the past 3 years)(but also i have to learn to stop apologizing for things that i don't need to be sorry for)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stuck in a body that isn’t mine,

Everything is a waste of time

Dumb yuppie mfkrs talking about being “broke” with a car, a house, gear that works and a house that has food everyday :|

Lol :|

We need a show in south florida for the Daniel Johnston fans all 5 to 6 of us

Mfkrs will literally kick you down and be like dude get up already, stop being lazy

Its funny hearing people talking about getting older and gaining weight and running out of breath and I’m like “dude literally all you do is smoke weed and watch shit on Netflix, what the fuck would you expect”

Lol you really not grown till you get sued for the first time

Mad respect and appreciation for anyone that takes the time to try and and understand themselves emotionally

In my head thinking about how it totally not cute to be this sad at my age

In my head counting all the people that hate me

I’m grateful for the people that I’ve been friends with since middle school

The online therapists are exploiting mental illness, places like b*tter help want you to think you are weak and they want you to think you can’t do it yourself so that you can pay them a good amount of money to talk you into fixing your own problems

Yea I’m probably gonna hold off on doing shit seriously till I have money again

I know where I am, I know where I’m going and I know how I’m gonna get there

You should be scared you fucking limp dick weasel, I hope you get everything that you have coming for you

Wtf you could bs nose slide? :o

I just wanna skate and make music with my friends, its not that complicated

This mini ramp is slowly but surely making my brain so much stronger

Don’t understand plus don’t care plus don’t wanna understand plus I gotta st

Do things for genuine reasons

I need to stop apologizing for things I don’t need to be sorry about

(added this in rn, wasn’t originally in our twitter drafts ^^^)

Nick is like the mike Sinclair to my billy marks

One day when I’m older and more stable with money and more in a place of comfort, I look forward to being able to smoke weed while playing playstation 2 games

Lifes moving in such a weird direction and I’m really happy and excited but also a lil sad also goddamn some of the things happening  are so bizarre

Educate the yuppie jits, they don’t know any better

You are exactly like all the people you complain about and if you weren’t busy having your head so far up your own ass maybe you could see that

I love being an internet music nerd, all I wanna do is be on my computer and listen to music and make shit

I’m trying very hard to stay optimistic and keep working hard towards things that I think actually matter and if you are in any way trying to impede on that optimism (no matter how false you think it may be) then FUCK YOUUUUU just SHUT THE FUCK UP

Growing up means literally faking being happy every day

I can’t wait to turn 30

I need a job so fucking bad and I desperately need to leave this house

Steel reserve suicide? 👀

Fuck it lol I think imma finish as much as I can of the ruffans stuff and put it out as a demos album LOL (at this point that makes more sense than having this be an actual album)

Definitely gotta keep our friends humble cause :| some mfkrs are getting so prideful and arrogant :|

I think we need to start roasting our friends a bit more, so many specific people are getting way too prideful and arrogant, like there’s nothing in with feeling a sense of pride in your self but definitely gotta humble people when they’re getting out of pocket

Being in a car with people that drive like shit :| is so fucking annoying :| and then they wanna act like you’re annoying as fuck for being scared :| fried ass mfkrs :|

Too many people down bad rn, get it together

:| talking about these things with the people you love is :| so :| fucking :| hard :| life is moving and changing in so many directions in so many ways :| and

You will only come to realize this when it is way too late and you’ve done an insane amount of irreparable damage and then you will regret so much as we all come to do

Life at 17: I need to kill myself Σ('◉⌓◉’)

Life at 24: yea fuck this dude I’m out :|

Lol its funny to me that theres people that only like me because I’m so sad and that feels soo fucked up for some reason

I don’t care if it’s good enough because it is genuinely the best can do

(rn)

Phone password is **** and my computer password is ******, theres a lot of live video and audio recordings of peoples bands and maybe some photos and logos and art and other random bullshit, if anyone cares to go and try and find that, go for it

I tried, sorry, thanks

(anecdote: lol fucking dumb edgy imbecile thinking anyone would give a fuck to try and find any of that garbage

Thanks

Its fireeee :,| <3

Goddammit ramon just do it already, watching you get up and keep trying is humiliating it feels like watching a one legged dog keep tripping over himself tryna cross the street, its so fucking sadd

No I’m not doing okay why the fuck would you askme some stupid dumbass question like that, tryna be on some hold your head up king bullshit, like I’m glad that you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re happy, that’s awesome for you I love that for you genuinely but what the fuck I am obviously not happy why the fuck would you ask me that like what the fuck am I actually supposed to say to that

I am not too fond of punk music or shoegaze music or metal music(as genres), theres specific bands and individuals that I like but in general sense most of those genres are so fucking boring

I feel like I haven’t had a real conversation with another human being in so long, I feel so detached from reality like as if I’m not real and I’m watching myself continue on autopilot from outside my body

I’m the kind of stupid where I’ll have no money, get $5 and decide to share it with someone so we could eat together

:3

Sitting thinking about how many days will have to pass before have to sell my fuzzwar and amp and other belongings that mean a lot to me?

(something is wrong/broken)

One brain cell dimwit human being who is not doing anything to fix it or help in any way: “why are you not fixing this? What is wrong with you you useless irresponsible asshole?”

:|

I wish I had what you had

(plural)

I’m getting real close to selling my fuzzwar, at this point in life I have no one I’m close enough that would know what that would mean to me or even care but maya gave me that for my 19th brirthday, it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me ever

Jesus christ the way that asia argento looks at rip torn in marie Antoinette and just thinking about times in life when someone looked at you like that while touching your face

[vaguekiwi]

Jack of clovers? Imma sucker for horror

♣️ Jack of Clovers/Clubs: “Horror" (more "supernatural" than horror, I think)

Send me a prompt!

Greenever was a peculiar little town.

Ben had chuckled at it when Peter first told them about his assignment.

“Green-ever? Backwards name sounds like a backwards town.”

“It’ll just be a few months,” Peter replied, “I’ll be back by Christmas. I can put up with a little town upstate for that long.”

May teased, “You know their Burger King won’t be open at 2 AM for a midnight snack.”

Peter had rolled his eyes and tried to insist he wasn’t a child anymore, that he had broken those college habits.

But now here he was at 1:58 in the morning staring at a Closed Taco Bell sign — Greenever had a Taco Bell, a McDonald’s, and a Subway, no Burger King — and he missed New York City with a pang.

It was eerily quiet in Greenever. No traffic at all hours, no lights on this late, no place open and no late night crimes to make your skin crawl. Peter was clueless as to why he’d even been assigned out here. There was nothing to report on and nothing to enforce except breaking up a bar fight or busting teenagers for shoplifting candy bars from the gas station.

The gas station. The one, single gas station in the whole town.

Greenever had a population of 982; one gas station; one overpriced general store — most folks made the 20 minute drive to Wal-Mart two towns over — three fast food places; one locally owned restaurant; two churches; and a K-8 school.

High schoolers bussed to another town.

There was a building and overgrown football field where there used to be a Greenever High School. “In the town’s heyday,” the other cops on the force said, “Go Bulldogs”. But the high school was abandoned now, an eerie sprawling one-story building just past the train tracks.

Peter trudged back to his patrol car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Please tell me where we need to go to get a goddamn burger.” 

In the passenger seat, Reilly raised his eyebrows and didn’t remove his feet from the dash.

“You wanna drive all the way to Montreal?” He drawled. “Though that might be shirking our post.”

Peter groaned and mumbled, “You gotta be pissing with me.” He buckled his seatbelt and started the engine, “Where do we go now?”

Reilly grunted, “Let’s loop around the cemetery, sometimes the teenagers get frisky up there. ‘Specially this time of year.”

Peter pulled the car onto the street and started to drive. It would take them all of four minutes — carry them to 2:05 AM and still hours from the end of their shift. But it was better than just sitting there on Main Street.

Maybe.

In Peter’s periphery, Reilly settled lower in his seat and looked out the window. His shirt was starched and stiffed, too clean and pale blue like in cartoons. The patches and badge were all bright and unscuffed. Peter had reluctantly changed into the Greenever uniform, but since he was technically just on loan he coerced his way into sewing on his own City of New York Police Department patch.

It had been a point of great contention with his Captain in Queens and the Sheriff upstate, but Peter was one of very few officers willing to drop everything and move out to the middle of nowhere to fill in some staffing shortages. So they’d bent before he did.

The autumn Adirondacks were supposed to be beautiful, and maybe it was just Peter’s mood, but to him Greenever’s fall leaves were off. Garish oranges, shit-coloured browns, and reds that reminded him unnervingly of blood-stained alleys back home.

The leaves trembled on the edge of their branches, flinching away from the headlights. Peter’s tongue clicked in distaste as he took a turn, but the car’s weight was off. Most of the city’s patrol cars were Chevy or Dodge and he hadn’t minded them so much. But Greenever was mostly Fords, a company Peter was already partial against due to a terrible series of breakdowns and repairs when he was in high school that prompted Ben to get a third job and May to suffer insomnia.

He was convinced the Ford didn’t drive as well as the squad cars in the city. Maybe it wasn’t true, but until his paperwork got un-mixed-up and he received the bonus he was supposed to have gotten for this gig, Peter was resigned to be as bitter about things as he could be.

“So did you like… grow up in the city?”

“In Queens,” Peter grunted, not looking at Reilly. He didn’t return the question: he already knew that Reilly had been born and raised here — literally born at home because the hospital had been too far twenty-three years ago — and almost had enough money to buy his parent’s house at a discount, and was planning to propose to his girlfriend on Christmas Eve on the high school bleachers where they’d had their first kiss at 13.

He never shut up about it.

Peter didn’t dislike Benjamin Reilly. Reilly just unnerved him. They were the same height. They had the same brown eyes flecked with gold, the same tall cheekbones and flat eyebrows and thick curls cut too short and swept off to the right. They were even born on the same day which meant they started and graduated from their respective police academies the same day (fortunately, their high school graduation weekends had been two Saturdays off from one another.)

Reilly was just a bleak look at what Peter’s life might have been like in another town. And Peter didn’t like it because it sounded boring.

It had nothing to do with Reilly’s parents being alive or Reilly being in a committed relationship with someone who loved him or Reilly having worked ‘for spending money’ all through high school instead of making ends meet.

The cemetery was as ruthlessly boring and unexciting as every other part of Greenever. Their headlights illuminated several neat rows of tombstones. Peter yawned, put the car in park, and slouched in the driver’s seat.

“See those?” Reilly pointed at the woods across the cemetery. 

“The trees?” Peter asked.

“Nuh-uh,” Reilly sat up, as if getting six inches closer would make it clear what he was pointing at outside. “Well, I mean, yes, but not all the trees. See those dead ones?”

Peter squinted. The headlights shone on one spindly dead tree on the horizon. Now that he was focused on it, Peter realised there was a row of them. Each devoid of leaves, bark ghostly white, empty branches jabbing into the sky and cutting unnaturally across what would otherwise be a normal looking treeline.

“Are they sick?” Peter asked, dredging up memories of an undergrad class with pictures of blighted trees.

“Not anymore. They’ve been dead for — I dunno… twenty years, at least.”

Peter sniffed, “What about ‘em, then?”

“They were pine trees,” Reilly said.

Peter grunted to show he understood: pine trees that were not-so-evergreen. So was this copse tied to the little town’s peculiar name?

Peter stifled a yawn by biting down on his knuckles and, when Reilly hadn’t said anything else, he ventured,

“There’s a story to them, yeah? Ten white pine trees, some ten-little-soldier-boys kinda tale to it?”

“You mean that little drummer boy song?”

So Reilly wasn’t familiar with the works of Agatha Christie. Unsurprising, but still disappointing.

Then again, the only reason Peter had ever picked up one of the woman’s books was because Michelle had brought it along on a field trip.

Without correction or clarification, Reilly pivoted the conversation, “Story goes that the trees’ll get their needles back once the spirit’s been appeased.”

“The spirit of the trees?”

Sounded like an edgy take on The Lorax, which Peter could confidently say was something the world didn’t need.

“Spirit of the town.” Reilly shrugged, “Or…” then he waved a hand vaguely toward the window, “Or the cemetery or the road or something.”

Peter reflected that — if he were one to believe in spirits — then he’d probably be a stickler about getting the titles and designations right.

But he didn’t believe in ghosts. The only creatures hiding in the dark were the very-human predators of New York City. Evil spirits existed, but they weren’t floating around spooking folks in abandoned homes. No. Peter had seen enough in the city. The real evil was in the house next door and the unassuming smiles of passerby on the street.

“They say on quiet nights, if you get up next to the trees, you can hear the spirit rattling their branches. Wailing in the wind.”

“Who’s they?”

Reilly furrowed his brow, most likely not wanting to admit that the suburban legend stemmed from high school keggers and voyeuristic stoners.

Oh, there was probably wailing in the cemetery at night. That much Peter was sure of. But there was a difference between a tortured ghost and a frisky adolescent.

Reilly had closed his eyes. Peter dialed his radio volume up by two and then down by two and then up again. Static heightened and subsided with the movement. He shifted to roll another yawn out of his body and tried not to dwell on cheese quesadillas and chalupa supremes.

Greenever.

Peter’s head lolled to look out the driver’s side window. He blinked past a gray haze creeping across the ground. It would suck if it was foggy and damp out tomorrow: after an overnight, Peter usually liked to spend time in the sun. Shrug off the haze of the wee hours and soak up some vitamin D.

He squinted at the tombstones lined up too-neatly in the cemetery. He pictured small-town graveyards as sprawling, unwieldy things; overgrown with weeds and mismatched headstones and siphoning off in too many directions as a village realised it was a town and the flow of time brought bureaucracy and zoning laws and a stoic refusal to desecrate the resting place of the deceased.

Not Greenever.

Neat rows of tombstones in a carefully manicured cemetery overlooked by ghostly white pines shivering in the fog.

The wind picked up outside. The pines shuddered and then leaned.

One seemed to drift, tangled in the web of fog. Peter squinted as the trunk twisted in and out of sight, one moment solid and the next blurring with silver haze.

He lifted his flashlight and clicked twice, trying to orient himself and the car relative to the trees.

The beam of light made Reilly lift his head. He slurred something, voice and limbs weighed down by the late hour. Some sort of baseline inquiry about what Peter had noticed.

“Nothin,” Peter drawled, letting the city tumble through his accent. Every once in a while it made him feel closer to home, reminded him of Uncle Ben. Gave the impression he was more grown-up, finally as old as he wanted to be.

The trees lulled in the wind. The car door opened with a crackling sound that made Reilly jump in his seat.

“Be right back,” Peter grunted, turning his flashlight on as he climbed out of the car. He shut the door behind him and made eye contact with Reilly through the window.

“Gonna take a quick round,” Peter said and swung toward the cemetery. Reilly lifted his eyebrows and waved a lazy, half-salute as Peter started to trudge along the grass.

He kept his flashlight on, beam pouring from his hip. It sliced through the grass and glanced off the white pines. Silver lines worn in the tree trunks reflected against clinging pearls of dew.

All Peter could hear was the soft pad of his feet in the drenched grass. He stopped walking as the trees came into view. He let his ears open to the whistle of the wind and, distantly, the vibration of the car engine he’d kept running.

“Ben! Ben!”

“Ben!”

Voices. Distant. Shouting. Squeals that fell in the eerie space between laughter and torture — like an infant who might be gasping with mirth or sobbing from frustration. The hairs on Peter’s neck stood on end, and he took two more lurching steps forward.

He held the flashlight up, slick against his palm. From the fog? Or… was he sweating?

Another bleat of joy or agony. Peter finally mustered his voice.

“Who’s out there?” 

He kept a deep rumble in his throat, unsure whether the children would surrender themselves or try to run when caught in the act.

Peter rolled his flashlight first one way, then another. He caught a glimpse of one of them, a silhouette ducking behind one of the trees.

“Kids, that’s enough!” Peter called, trudging forward.

Damn this would be a lot more satisfying with some Taco Bell in his stomach.

“Hey, come on out. I’ll take you home.” He swallowed. His throat was drier than he wanted it to be, he flashed his light across the trees again.

“You’re not in trouble, just let my partner an’ me take you home!”

Thick silence wended in the air.

Gooseflesh prickled along Peter’s arms and wisps of fog curled across both eyes, obscuring his vision. Peter blinked and took another step, lifting his flashlight again only to bump into one of the pine trees.

He stumbled back as quickly as he hit it, certain the tree hadn’t been so close to begin with. He craned his neck up, wondering if it had been that tall, too. 

His knee was cold where he’d struck the tree, like a piece of ice had threaded its way inside to replace his veins. Peter’s hand trembled as he lifted the flashlight again, but he startled when he struck another tree behind him.

Laughter pealed next to his ear and Peter cried out, lurching to the right and away from the copse. 

He was away from the cemetery proper now, yet he tripped and spilled over two graves immediately beside him. Peter gasped and scrambled to his feet, blood running cold when he looked at the headstones below him.

Richard and Mary Reilly

Peter flexed his neck and eased the cold rush out of his veins. They were probably Reilly’s grandparents, but it was unsettling to see the same names as his own parents printed in stone.

Remembering the children he’d heard, Peter lifted his flashlight in the direction of the trees again. It was odd they’d seemed to surround him, because they were arranged in a row.

Peter took a step forward, one foot sinking into the dewy marsh of the ground.

“Boo!”

Peter screamed and toppled backward, flashlight flying out of his grip as he reached for the gun at his side.

He didn’t get a chance to draw it before he made sense of Reilly’s breathless laughter above him.

“Oh you should’ve seen the look on your face, Parker!”

Peter shook his head as he dusted himself off, slowly climbing to his feet.

“Not that funny, man.” He straightened up slowly, taking care to pluck pieces of grass and mud from his uniform. “Come on, let’s just get back to the car.”

Peter turned away. He took a few steps back toward the cemetery, where their headlights washed everything in ivory.

When he didn’t hear anything behind him, Peter turned again, clicking his flashlight twice.

“Reilly?”

Nothing answered. Fed up with pranks, Peter growled, “Seriously, I’m done with this man. Not. Fucking. Funny. Now come back to the car.”

Peter strode away from the cemetery again, wrinkling his nose when Reilly didn’t follow. He slammed the car door when he dumped himself into the driver’s seat and glowered at the trees on the horizon.

Reilly still didn’t return to the car.

Peter couldn't see Reilly anywhere.

“God I am so done with this town and his bullshit.” Peter snatched up his radio and clicked through to Reilly. “Come back to the car, you idiot. Let’s get out of here. I’m done playing.”

Static crackled on the other end and then the headlights winked out. Peter sat up straighter, cursing under his breath as he clicked through again, “I’m serious man, the car battery just died. Stop messing around.”

Finally a voice came back through, “Officer Parker? You trying to reach someone here?”

Peter cursed before lifting the radio again, “Sorry, Captain. I meant to radio through to Reilly. Setting must be messed up.”

“Reilly?”

“Ben.” Peter said, “Benjamin Reilly. He’s fucking around with me playing pranks, now our battery’s dead, I’m just trying to get him to come back.”

After a measured silence, the Captain’s voice filtered back through, hazy and distant:

“Officer Parker, I think you better return to the station.”

“Sir?”

“Benjamin Reilly died years ago, son. By those white pine trees near the cemetery.”

[evilsnievil]

So after a terrible breakup from a 10 month relationship with my first ever love that occurred 3 months ago which led to my alcoholic era which ended in me almost deleting myself from alcohol poisoning and almost getting sent to the psych ward like month ago i am finally moving on (i am still deeply traumatized from the breakup and almost dying as well) and in a unforeseen turn of events I think my best friend and I are going to fuck sometime in the next few days.

I met this son of a bitch at the beginning of the school year and we have been through the depths of hell together like we’ve become so close emotionally I’ve never been so vulnerable and comfortable with someone irl and he reciprocates like I’ve been there for him through some tough shit and we just get each other we’re like this 🤞

So when this bitch asked me to call him a slut i swear to god almighty it awakened something within me like y’all don’t get it i was just minding my goddamn business and now for the past like 3 days like i don’t even know I am seeing a new side of this dude this boy wrapped himself around my finger talkin about some “I’ll be your slut” and “I’ll do anything for you” ETC. and good god shit is going straight to my head i feel so powerful it’s so fucking hot.

Anyway i was thinking like ykw fuck it what better way to lose my virginity than to this lovely beautiful good boy who knows about my daddy issues and is the closest relationship I’ve ever had in my life like I’m either very wrong or very right and he’s making it very hard to find the downsides yall dont wanna know how horny ive been everyday every hour since thursday.

With that being said tho I’m very anxious rn idk if it’s because I need to go to sleep (it’s probably because I need to go to sleep) but I’m overthinking this sm and I blame my ex for bringing my hopes up that maybe I’m not unlovable and unattractive and then crushing that shred of confidence and self esteem like a bug which was really fucked up so now I’m just like what if this is a joke what if I’m humiliating myself and being laughed at rn like why would anyone love me let alone want to have sex with me and that’s like really weighing on my soul and Im feeling a huge sense of dread rn and I don’t know what to do.

In my brain I think I’m like subconsciously putting a disconnect between my best friend and the person who wants to have sex with me so like I think the right thing to do is have like one of those semi serious conversations with him and just be open about how fucking insecure I am and I know his angelic self is gonna give me that reassurance that I very badly need to hear and yeah imma probably do that before we maybe have sex and there’s nothing to be scared of I know my best friend is a good and understanding person I just need to hear it from him that things are chill or smth idk

[withoutquestion]

i haven’t been on this blog because it’s exhaustion i cannot handle but imma just say this on some real shit. i keep quiet about a lot of shit on this website. i keep my circles small and dont really venture out of it. i’ll have conversations where i feel them worth my time, and i’ll block / unfollow otherwise because i deal with enough as it is out here without worrying about these ignorant ass lil kids in here speaking on shit they know not a thing about. now, the good news is that for the most part, i’ve managed to avoid the worst shit people on this site have done but hear me out. especially NON-BLACK POC hear me out. 

first off, don’t try using that POC card with me. people always wondered why i had an issue with the term and it should be easy to figure out now. i was raised by my mexican side of the family. i know how non - black poc can be. they loved me to death, but they hated THEY HATED THEY HATED MY BLACKNESS. they hated it. they still hate it. to this day, they still don’t want my little mexican cousins dating black boys or making black kids. to this day !! and dont care how i feel about it !  im 26 !! now imagine when my mom came home with my black dad and a black baby in her stomach. what you think was the first suggestion? from my nana, a woman who practically raised me was willing to never see me born for what i was ! for what i couldn’t control ! they hated my blackness so much they wanted to stomp it out. i hated myself and my blackness for most of my life, and my dad wasn’t there to tell me it was okay to not hate it. that i could love myself. and so dont expect me to just take your “oh im POC i cant hate black people” at face value because i know for a mufuckin fact that dont mean shit. if anything, it’s more fucking dangerous. 

so anyway don’t pull that shit with me. you may be able to pull that shit in your IMs and private chats and use “ POC ” and say you’re including black people, but i know you not most of the time. there’s a reason i don’t say much on tumblr, and it’s because i don’t TRUST y’all. when you advocate, you use blanket terms and beat around bushes and pick and choose what battles you down for, and it’s tired. it’s tired, and it’s disgusting? who you tryna fool? i’m a black man in america, i don’t trust just anyone who puts “ally” on their resume. you earn that shit, and right now, you ain’t earning it from us. which is funny because my next point is this:

i see my people out here going to war for yall. lgbt people, jewish people, latinx people, etc. and i’ve personally seen / experienced antiblack shit from each of these groups despite being part of a few myself. but i see black people out here risking their mental health, their energy, their comfort for yall, and then when we need help, you wanna play that “thoughts and prayers” shit then move on because it don’t affect you? naw, i’ve been known that tumblr is full of performative allyship. i know half yall just dont wanna get caught in the crosshairs ( metaphor, y’all, im not threatening you ) and you are so outspoken and bold and flamboyant about the shit that it comes off fake half the fucking time anyway. none of it sincere, so now i never trusted most of yall. i’ve probably unfollowed more of the fake shit than any actual problematic people because that’s who i find on my dash more somehow. it’s easier to avoid the racists / sexists / homophobes / transphobes etc. than it is to avoid you fake ass allies ! what do that tell you? 

look, you wanna show up? show up. step the fuck up. i ain’t sayin we dont need the help. have conversations. call your people out. google some shit. educate YOURSELF like black people had to all those years we weren’t given the privilege. don’t make your daily tumblr advocate obligatory psa then move on. because we out here puttin in work for yall and you wanna act like when we turn around asking for respect, we puttin you outta house and home. let me tell you this. if you have the luxury of smothering out black people until you need them to come bat for you, you have no idea what it’s like to be truly helpless. and one day, we gon stop coming. one day, we not gon be there to hold you up. so think about that the next time someone comes for us, and you wanna watch from the sidelines until the fight’s over and all you gotta do is like a post or reblog the shit.