#it's like 3 a.m. and she's been dealing with this sort of shit all week

[the-goddess-of-gays]

Leo: My life is like a Cinderella story in reverse. Everything was going great and then an overpowered fairytale lady showed up and fucked it all over. Annabeth: And this, dear listeners, is why we have therapy.

[tatorthots]

hellos 👋 could you write a one-shot with a reader who is getting mistreated by their parents? totally not projecting here but the reader did something very very small and their parents blew it completely out of proportion and grounded them for an undetermined. they took away their driving privileges, their phone (they can only have it at school), their laptop, and they’re being watched like a hawk for any kind of thing they get wrong. like ANYTHING. so maybe have it so bakugou tries texting the reader over the weekend but they don’t respond so he gets worried. he waits till monday where he sees them and to his surprise and honor, his s/o is like completely out of it. again, totally not projecting but they’ve gotten so much pointless shit from their parents and been yelled at and talked down to so much, it has completely mentally drained them. how would bakugou react and comfort the reader, and deal with that situation as it continues for weeks. (i’m going on week 3 :) i’ve got no clue when this will end) ty!

— BNHA | Safe Place

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x gn!reader, Shota Aizawa

Warnings: Toxic Parents, Abusive Themes, Cursing, Mental Health Triggers

a/n: soooo I wasn’t sure if you wanted a specific format but since I saw “one shot” I figured I’d do sort of like a story and I made reader gn since I didn’t see any he/she pronouns but either way I hope your situation gets better and this fic was able to make you smile <3

_______________________________________________

Fri, Oct 15th, 7:24 P.M

Kaminari and Kirishima won’t stop following me around the dorms

Tch bunch of mindless puppies

7:25 P.M.

I’m gonna blast them to their graves

7:36 P.M.

So you just don’t care if they die huh?

7:42 P.M.

You’re being annoying.

If they die I hope you know their blood are on y o u r hands.

________________________________________

‘It’s been 20 min since I sent my last message’ Scoffing to himself as his brows furrowed in frustration, Bakugo decided to call you - his sharp eyes focused on the ringing phone in front of him.

‘No answer?’

_______________________________________________

Sat, Oct 16th, 8:01 A.M.

Morning brat

You better fucking answer me today or i swear to god I’m gonna burn everything you love

11:16 A.M.

You’re dead

You better be dead

This shit ain’t funny y/n

4:06 P.M.

Y/n answer me.

________________________________________

Two days.

It’s been two days since Bakugo last heard of you; all his calls and texts being sent to voicemail or just straight up ignored. Each hour that went by without a reply only sent him further and further to the edge as he started to worry about your safety - his patience thinning by the minute. It was safe to say that the last two days were absolute hell for anyone around him, snapping and threatening anyone who tried to ask him what was wrong. He didn’t mean to lash out at the extras for trying to help him but how can anyone expect him to be calm when he hasn’t been in contact with you for the last two days?

———

It was Monday morning, the beginning of another school week and the day Bakugo would finally get his long-awaited answers from you.

‘C’mon c’mon c’mon where are you?!’ Gritting his teeth, he searched the ocean of students as they entered the front gates of the school. His crimson irises desperately searching for your familiar form until,

‘THERE’

Quickly, he used his quirk to blast his way through the crowd - not caring who got in his way as his mind clouded with thoughts and questions; anger and relief coursing through his veins the closer he got to you.

“HEY! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! WHY HAVENT YOU BEEN ANSWERING M-“ He paused, his voice hitching and explosions ceasing when he caught glimpse of the despair ghosting your features, dark circles under your eyes as you trekked your way through the crowd. He slowed his pace when he finally reached you; his hand instinctively moving to caress your cheek, analytical eyes focused on you as his mind raced to assess the situation.

“Y/n.”

Stopping your movements you stood still, eyes glued to the ground.

“Hey. Look at me.” Using his index and thumb he lifted your chin, eyes widening at the site in front of him. Your under-eyes were puffy, hair disheveled as you looked up at him with glassy doe orbs. Immediately he pulled you into his embrace, a hand moving to the back of your head as he buried his face in your hair, his other wrapping around your waist. He didn’t know what was wrong and though he wanted to interrogate you, yell at you for distancing yourself from him, he knew he shouldn’t.

“Tell me what hells going on. I’m not going to let you push me away y/n.” His hold tightened, “You can’t push me away.”

“I’m sorry..” nuzzling your face into his chest, your words were barely audible, “I wasn’t ignoring you… my parents took everything away..” His hold loosened as he glanced down at you. Bakugo already knew about your toxic home environment. He knew how your parents mistreated you, constantly spitting out hurtful words and punishing you over the smallest things. He didn’t understand why - how they could be so unfair. You’re a straight A student, one of class 1A’s brightest pupils, you’re constantly pushing and striving to better yourself no matter how exhausted or worn out you are. It pissed him off how ignorant your parents were, you were perfect in every single way imaginable - so why the fuck do they always treat you this way?

“Tell me what happened.” Brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you could see the genuine worry - the hidden frustration - in his gaze; he cared for you so lovingly, loyally. Sure, he could be rough around the edges but he’s always there for you. Your eyes watered as you peered up at him, your emotions getting the better of you as you felt your walls crumble down - from the innocent comment you made to the poison filled words your parents spat at you until they decided to take away your phone, your laptop, even your driving privileges; which is why you had to wake up earlier than usual just to make it to school on time. You ranted about them locking you in your room, forbidding you from making contact with anyone, their watchful eyes constantly pinned on you, suffocating you. He didn’t miss the waver in your voice as you vented out all your frustrations, his heart ached.

He listened to your cries, patiently waiting for you to calm down as he wiped away the tears running down your cheeks - leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before he interlaced his fingers with yours, a reassuring squeeze on your hand as you both walked to class. He spent the rest of the day wondering what he could do to help you, he knew loving kisses and tender touches were enough to brighten your mood but it wasn’t enough for him. No, he wanted to crush your parents for the trauma they’ve caused you, but he knew realistically that just wasn’t possible; so he came up with another idea.

———

“THEN FIGURE OUT A WAY.” Slamming his fists on the table, Bakugo glared, “ITS BEEN THREE WEEKS SINCE THEY’VE BEEN FORCED TO MISS WORK STUDY.”

“Bakugo, calm down.”

“I AM CALM.”

Sighing, Aizawa only eyed the fuming blonde in front of him. To be honest, he agreed with him - you’ve been missing assignments, skipping work study and even drifting off during lectures lately. It wasn’t like you to be like this, but what could he do? He’s already tried contacting your parents but they never seem to have the time to discuss your academic situation.

Huffing out in annoyance, Bakugo leaned on his teachers desk, “All I’m sayin ‘s that you have to do something about this. Y’know this isn’t normal behavior, hell, it’s not even healthy behavior. The environment they’re placed in isn’t a good one.” Red irises looked up at the tired man in front of him, “I say they move into the dorms. All of 1A is already living there so it only makes sense they do too.”

“We already tried convincing their parents when we first built the dorms. They said no.”

“THEN TRY AGAIN.”

Sighing again, Aizawa thought about the idea before standing up to walk Bakugo out. “If I tell you ‘I’ll see what I can do’, would you stop yelling?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Bakugo only rolled his eyes as he grumbled out a quiet ‘yes’.

“Fine. Then I’ll see what I can do.”

———

It was another week before Aizawa made his way to your house to try to convince your parents to let you stay in the dorms for ‘Student Safety’ purposes. To be honest, he put in actual effort to persuade your parents, bringing up point after point and easing any tension or combative answers until, finally, they agreed.

Throughout that time, Bakugo stayed by your side every second of the school day; to say he was overprotective of you was a pathetic understatement, the boy would barely allow anyone else around you - he’d relax his temper, his calloused fingers constantly interlaced with yours as his thumb brushes the back of your palm in small, soothing circles. His kisses would be softer, and his touches would be more consistent. He knew how overwhelmed you were, he knew how much of an emotional toll the whole situation took from you so he made it his personal mission to make sure you were at least happy when you weren’t home - he made sure your mind was distracted from the chaos happening around you. To be honest, Bakugo is kinder and more observant than most believe him to be - just in his own aggressive way.

[bonkie-barnes]

Apartment 3C

natasha romanoff x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: brief mentions of injuries 

A/N: does the dog die.com.....yes, i am sorry. enemies to lovers kinda?? idk she’s mean to you until she’s not. i try to keep it gender neutral, but if you see something that isn’t please let me know! i hope you enjoy!

- - -

The first time you ever saw her enter apartment 3C was when she was moving boxes from the hall into the room. She had the most beautiful red hair and green eyes that made you lose your breath the instant she made eye contact with you.

The woman looks down at your hand then back up at your face, confused and suspicious. She simply nods before picking up one last box and entering her apartment. You stand there in the hallway for another minute before shaking yourself off and going back to your own home, your thoughts on the green eyes of the woman whose name you don’t know for the rest of the night.

You walk over to introduce yourself to her, sticking your hand out for her to shake.

“Hi! I’m Y/N, your neighbor in 3D,” you say, gesturing to the apartment across the hall with a shake of your head.

- - -

The next time you saw the mysterious woman of apartment 3C was on your way to the laundry room in the basement of the building. She was just locking her own door when she looked up and made eye contact with you. You gave her a small smile and she simply rolled her eyes at you.

As you both climb down the stairs, the woman trying hard to ignore your presence, you try to come up with a topic of conversation.

“So, nice day we’re having. Good weather,” is what you finally come up with. You mentally smack yourself for being so dull.

She looks at you with an annoyed look in her eyes and a smirk on her face.

“Really? You’re resorting to weather talk?”

“Well, you’re not that easy to approach. I’m not sure what to talk to you about,” you finally manage to get out after a minute.

“You ever think maybe I don’t want to talk to you?” she asks.

“Oh.”

She leaves you standing alone in the stairwell, wondering what you did to offend her so badly.

- - -

It’s about eight at night when your dog starts barking from the living room. You look up from your book to the smell of smoke. The lasagna you were making was currently in the oven, but you were sure you set the timer.

As you walk out of your room, the smell of smoke only gets stronger. It takes you checking your oven and the sight of your dog barking at the door to realize the smell is coming from outside your apartment.

You open the door and struggle to keep Smokey, your dog, in the room as you peek your head into the hallway. The smoke is coming from 3C. You’ve managed to avoid the woman inside since the stairway fiasco a week ago. As embarrassed as you are, you figure you should probably go check on her.

She opens the door a minute after your knocks sound, looking out of her element. Instantly you notice the smoke coming out of her own oven. She is definitely not a chef by any means, you realize with a smirk.

“Are you okay in here?” you ask her softly.

“Does it look like it?” she responds with an edge to her voice.

“Do you need some help?”

She simply rolls her eyes and shakes her head. You’re about to respond when her phone rings. She picks it up with a firm “Natasha” before closing her door on you. At least now you know her name.

When you get back into your own home, you come up with an idea. You take half of your now-cooked lasagna and put it in a tupperware container. You attach a little note before running it over to Natasha’s doorstep. You knock and try to hurry back to your apartment before being detected.

Smokey, however, has other plans for you. He manages to sneak out into the hallway and over to the container of food.

"Smokey, no!" you exclaim as Natasha opens her door, no longer on the phone.

You quickly run over to grab his collar and usher him back to your home, muttering apologies the whole way. You quickly sneak inside your apartment before Natasha can say something about the food.

What you don’t see is the small smile Natasha gives as she reads the note.

- - -

The next time you see Natasha leave apartment 3C is drastically different. The rainy weather is reflective of your current mood. You're on your way up the stairs having just come back from the veterinarian, empty collar in your hand.

Natasha notices you from her doorway and lets a small smile go before it drops into a frown. There's a somber air about you and she'd be lying to herself if she said she weren't concerned. She has to keep up her mean girl act, though, because she doesn't want you to know you're growing on her.

"Well don't you look like shit. Who peed in your cheerios this morning?" she asks you snidely.

You stumble a bit, not expecting Natasha to even speak to you. You don't even look up at her before mumbling a quiet "Not today, Natasha".

Her heart breaks at the sadness in your expression and it breaks even more at the sight of the collar in your grasp. She's seen you walking around the city with Smokey a few times and knows how much you love him.

"Wait, hey, are you alright?"

You look up, surprised at the fact that Natasha is speaking to you in a kind manner. You don't fail to notice the concerned look in her eyes. Still, you're convinced she doesn't like you.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you sigh, not wanting to get into it with her.

"Where's Smokey?" she asks softly.

You break out into sobs. Natasha reaches a hand out to you, but you're across the hall and into your apartment before she can come up with something to say.

This time it's you who is receiving a knock on the door with no one around to claim it. There's a mug of steaming tea and a note at your feet.

In neat, loopy writing you see:

I'm really sorry about Smokey. This will help with your throat <3

You crack a slight smile for the first time that day.

- - -

It's dark when you're startled out of your sleep. You could have sworn you heard something, but there is nothing but silence now. The clock jarringly flashes 3:35 at you.

Then you hear it again. There's someone knocking at your door, you realize.

Rushing out of bed, you trip on the sheets before regaining your footing. You enter the living room and turn on the lamp in the corner, covering the room in a soft glow. You inch the door open slowly, before throwing it open the rest of the way upon realizing the late night visitor is Natasha.

She's covered in cuts and bruises, and she's nursing her right wrist. Your eyes widen at the stain of blood on her shirt.

"Natasha, oh my god," you gasp, as you usher her into your apartment. You guide her to the couch and she groans as she plops down.

You rush to the bathroom to get some medical supplies and hurry back to her. She has her eyes closed, and if the blood and dirt weren't there, you'd think she looked almost at peace.

"What happened to you?" you ask softly, as you start wetting a washcloth with rubbing alcohol.

"Ah, this is nothing. You should see the other guy," Natasha says with a smirk. You can see just how tired she is, though. "I'd do it myself, but I think I’ve sprained my wrist.

You simply nod and get to work cleaning up her cuts. Both of you are silent, minus her small hisses of pain, until you finished taping up the last bandage.

"So, are you going to tell me why you came over at three A.M. looking like you just got mugged?"

Natasha sighs and plays with her hands. "I couldn't patch it up myself, as I already mentioned, and I trust you," she utters softly.

"I thought you hated me," you blurt out.

"What? No!" she exclaims, her eyes widening. "Okay, I can see why you'd think that."

"Why are you so mean to me, then?" you ask quietly, without looking in her direction.

"I’m scared," she says bluntly.

You look at her in complete confusion.

"You're so sweet all the time, and I was scared to talk to you in fear of you seeing just how opposite I am," she finally mutters.

You look at her softly. "Nat, you're not as bad as you think you are."

She scoffs. "I treated you like shit when all you've ever been is nice. I'm not just bad, I'm cruel."

"As you said, you were scared. You just need to stop being so hard on yourself all the time," you say, grabbing her hands in yours.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asks hopefully.

"Take me out to get coffee and we can start over," you say.

She smiles and says, "Deal."

- - -

You knock on the door, just under the rusted 3C. You subconsciously smooth down your shirt, hoping to get rid of the nonexistent wrinkles.

You've been dating Natasha for four months now, but she still makes you just as nervous.

You're taken out of your thoughts by the sound of her door opening. Standing in front of you is the most stunning woman you've ever seen. She's in simple jeans and a shirt, but she still takes your breath away.

"Hi, love," she chuckles, as you struggle to find words.

"Hi, you're absolutely gorgeous," you finally stutter out.

"Shut up," she says through a smile, a light blush coating her cheeks.

"You ready for our date?"

"Absolutely." She turns around to lock her door.

You take her hand and interlock your fingers as you both start down the stairs. You've never been happier, you think.

- - -

The last time you see Natasha exit apartment 3C is a hot day in July.

The apartment has been cleared out, nothing but a box at the doorway left.

"It's sort of bittersweet, isn't it?" you ask, wiping the sweat from your brow.

"Sort of. I have better memories in your apartment, though," Natasha says.

"Our apartment," you correct her with a gleaming smile on your face.

"You just had to ask me in the middle of July, didn't you?" she teases. "I'm sweating bullets over here."

"I just couldn't wait any longer, sorry babe," you respond, leaning your head on her shoulder.

"C'mon, one more box then we officially live together."

Natasha bends down to pick up the box.

"Last one there's a rotten egg," you yell as you sprint across the hall.

"It's funny you think you can outrun me, baby," Natasha yells, hot on your heels.

[spencessmile]

How Much You’ll Love The Right One

Pairing - (Platonic) Spencer Reid x Fem Reader 

Summary - Spencer promises you, that you'll find love again. You don't want another love, you want him. 

Warnings - None 

Word Count - 2,011 words 

And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don't steal my work and post it without my consent. 

Feedback and Comments are welcome. Happy reading! 

Requests are open!

** 

Spencer and you have been friends for over 14 years so when Spencer didn't hear from you in over two weeks, he was worried. He just got back from LA from a case and rushed to your apartment when you hadn’t answered any of his calls. 

You were the type of person to call Spencer several times throughout the day but when he didn’t hear from you in two weeks, this mind went racing to all the worst-case scenarios. You lived 10 minutes away from Spencer’s apartment but Spencer felt like the drive was taking forever. 

Heartbreak sucked. You found out a week ago that your boyfriend of two years was cheating on you and when you found out you completely lost your mind, to say the least. 

This was the second time you were cheated on and it broke you. You sat here for two weeks and thought of every single reason why you weren’t good enough. Why did you always end up heartbroken? Did you do something wrong? Did you say something wrong? Did you not love people enough? Were you not loveable? 

All these questions and you still had no answers. 

You sat on your couch, mounted with pillows and blankets while old movie reruns were playing on TV. You didn’t know where the hell your phone was but you heard it vibrating, again. 

You knew it was Spencer calling you for the hundredth time. You hadn’t called him in two weeks so you knew that he’d be worried about you. You knew that Spencer was probably away on a case because if he was here he would have burst through your door by now. 

You talked to Spencer about everything and anything that came to your mind but this was something you weren’t ready to talk about. You wanted to push all your feelings aside and not think about anything. 

You got up and walked to your fridge, opened your freezer pulling out the ice cube tray. You froze in your position as you heard your door lock being messed with. Your eyes wandered towards the clock, that read 12:22 A.M. 

Who the hell is trying to break in your apartment? What the hell should you do? Who could it be? And where was your phone?

You stood quietly in your kitchen as the person continued to play with the locks. You put down the ice tray and ran into your bedroom, grabbing your baseball bat. You shut the lights and stayed a good distance away from the door as the locks were being opened. As the door swung open you thought your heart was going to explode from inside your chest. 

Just as you saw the shadow inch closer into your apartment, you were about to swing your bat. 

“FBI! SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!” You hear a familiar voice yell. You sigh, lowering your baseball ball. “I said, show me your hands! Now!” 

“Relax Dr. Reid,” You said, turning on the lights. “It’s just me,” As you turned to face Spencer but he still had his gun pointed at you. “Spencer, your gun!” Spencer put his gun in his holster. 

“You're okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, why would I be?” 

“You haven’t been answering any of my calls. I thought something happened to you,” Spencer said. “You have two weeks worth of mail piled in front of your door. Chris said he remembered you leaving a few days ago but doesn’t remember you coming back,” Spencer closed the door. “I thought you were hurt or even worse, kidnapped.” 

Chris, was your apartment complex manager. 

“I wouldn’t mind being kidnapped.” You say. 

You knew that you couldn’t hide anything from Spencer because out of all the people in the world you could have run into on the Metro, it had to be with a profiler, just your luck.  

“Y/N,” Spencer glared at you. You weren’t good at dealing with emotions so you tended to make jokes or laugh at everything and if there was one thing Spencer didn’t like about you, it was that one trait of yours. “Y/N, I was worried about you. I would have come earlier but I was in LA working on a case. Why have you been avoiding me?” Spencer asked, his eyes soft and his voice laced with concern. 

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” You couldn’t even look at Spencer while saying that. 

“Yes, you are,” You folded his arms and looked at you. You knew exactly what he was doing and you didn’t like it. “You're avoiding eye contact and you're pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.” 

“Stop doing that.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Profiling me.” 

“Y/N, I’m not pr-” 

“Yes, you are! I don’t need you doing that to me right now. I just need my best friend,” Your eyes started welling up. Spencer’s face expressions softened as he walked up to you. He grabbed your hand and led you to the couch. He turned to face you as your tears fell. 

You're not sure how long has passed but you know you were ready to talk about. You have to let out your feelings otherwise you’ll drown in them. You lifted your head and got up from the couch. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “It’s okay. How about we just watch some TV and you can tell me whenever you’re comfortable, alright?” You nodded as you put your head on Spencer’s shoulder. 

“If I’m going to talk about this then I need mint chip ice cream. You down for a pint?” 

“Absolutely,” Spencer replies. “I’ll get it.” You nod as he walks to the kitchen. You mentally prepare yourself to tell Spencer everything. “Here you are.”

You grab the pint and shove a spoonful into your mouth. Spencer turns to fully face you and just patiently waits until you're ready. 

“He cheated on me.” 

You felt Spencer’s eyes snap up. 

“Y/N, I’m s-” 

“Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault. He was an ass, I should have known better.” 

“This isn’t your fault.” 

“Is there something wrong with me?” Spencer frowned at your question.

“Absolutely not.” 

You felt yourself starting to cry again. “Then why don’t people love me?”

“People do love you.” 

“If they did, then they wouldn’t leave or cheat on me. All my life all I ever seen people do is walk away from me. No one has ever decided to stay by my side. No one ever decided to stay and love me through all my good and bad.”

“I stayed,” Spencer replies. “I love you.” 

“That’s because you kept following me everywhere,” You joked, as you remember back to all the times that you Spencer kept bumping into each other after that one time on the Metro. Anyone could say it was straight out of a movie. 

“No, you kept following me everywhere.” Spencer playfully argues back. 

“I mean, what were the changes that we kept seeing each other everywhere? Who knew that we liked the same coffee, read books from the same library, and even ride the same Metro every single morning and night at the same time?"

“Actually, according to a recent study, the chances of meeting a stranger more than once is like 1 in 10,000. So the chances are very slim. But I guess you just got really lucky with me,” You laughed at the last part of his answer. Spencer grabbed your hand. “I’m sorry that he ch-” 

“Spencer stop,” You felt your emotions starting to take over again, as your eyes started to blur your vision. You sat there holding Spencer’s hand while you just cried out all your emotions. 

“You have to let him go.” 

“I know,  I know …” You say, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. 

“Then do it.” 

“I know that he hurt me. I really want to let this go but I’ve always tried hard to keep this relationship together for almost 3 years. It sucks to let go of something that I've had together for so long.” 

“I know it’s hard for you but, you deserve to let him go so that you can be happy again. It’s time to make yourself happy.” 

You sniffle and look up at Spencer, taking a couple of deep breaths. 

“I need you to be okay because I miss my best friend. The extremely annoying and over-hyper one. The one that calls me over a hundred times a day to tell me every little thing she does in a day. The one that goes to my apartment and waters my plants every other day and leaves me baked goods when she knows that I’m coming back home. The one that drags me out of bed on weekends I have off to go do something absolutely insane.” 

“Spencer Reid you better be talking about me,” You said glaring at him. 

“What if I’m not?” Now he was playing with you. 

“You're not allowed to have a new best friend.” 

“Why not?” 

“No,” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to replace you.” 

“Because I’m supposed to be your only best friend.” Spencer laughed as you pouted. “Do you have a new friend?”

“You better not. I know where you live and work.” Spencer just laughs. 

“You know I was really worried when you weren’t responding back to me. I thought something really bad happened.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” You said. “Spencer you had your partner come and bolt in 3 extra locks to my front door, you set up an alarm system and you installed a camera outside my apartment. No burglar would want to do that much work just to seal some stuff from an apartment. Besides, any brugler who makes all the effort to get through those locks, it’ll be their loss because I don’t have shit in this apartment for them to steal,” You and Spencer laugh. “Unless they want my coffee maker or toaster oven.” 

“So, what did you do?” Spencer raised his eyebrow at you. 

“What did I do?” You ask. Spencer gave you the -oh-come-on-you-know-what-I’m-talking-about face and you sighed. 

“I went to the grocery store, bought a dozen eggs, and egged his house,” You reply. 

“No Y/N, you egged his house?!” You nodded, feeling sort of proud of doing that. 

“You could have waited for me to come back home,” You looked at Spencer, surprised. 

“Oh, don’t give me that face Spencer,” You spoke. “He was an ass. He deserved to have his house egged. Besides he is very lucky I didn’t key his new Porsche that was standing in the driveway, I was very tempted.” 

“You wanted to egg his house too?” 

“Of course, I would have wanted too. He hurt my best friend.” 

“Oh a lot of people have hurt your best friend so in that case, you still have a lot of houses to egg. Maybe tomorrow we wrap his house in toilet paper.” 

“Maybe we can,” Spencer turned serious for a second. “Hey, I know it’ll take you a while to get over this relationship but I want you to know that if you loved the wrong this much, imagine how much you’ll love the right one. I promise you; this time love will walk to your doorstep and you’ll know immediately.” 

I already know. 

You're sitting right in front of me, holding my hand. 

How much I need you. 

It’s just that I can never tell you how much I love you.  

** 

But you've slipped under my skin, invaded my blood, and seized my heart. – Maria V. Snyder, Poison Study

[yanderecandystore]

How would The yandere teachers react to a darling that was know for delinquent behavior in there old school being completely normal and even super helpful in there class?

I'm sorry if I made you wait too long, holy shit, I love this ask-

I feel like I should, redo my characters, but, I'm still a little confused lol XD

Anyway, here we are :3

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Little delinquent…? [Yandere Teacher x "Delinquent"!Reader - Headcanons]:

I'm gonna do them separately, because, nyeh, why not? 🤷🏻‍♀️😙

→Matthew Robinson:

This man 👏🏻 Doesn't have time👏🏻 For this shit.

He heard all of the terrible things you did.

Or well, presumably did.

He had already dealt with delinquents who had done way worse than you, so you better not act like royalty on his class like the other ones, because he'll-

"- Hey! Good morning! My name is [Y/N] [L/N], it's nice to meet you!" You say, entering the class in such a hurry and with the brightest smile on the entire world on your face.

All students were taken aback by your sudden introduction, but even more about your cheerful attitude (since most of them already heard the rumors about you). The most surprised person, however, was your teacher.

Not only did you scare the life out of him, he didn't expect you being so nice with everyone. Maybe you weren't the student he was expecting, maybe this was all a coincidence?

Two students named [Y/N], while one was a troublemaker, the other one was a walking sunshine.

But that wouldn't make sense, there is only one [Y/N] [L/N] assigned to his class. Yet when looking at you, he doesn't see a delinquent, or someone that would cause him any trouble. He sees a little sweetheart.

He doesn't let his guard down just yet, however. You came in late and made a lot of noise just by introducing yourself, so you weren't exactly free from any scolding.

He needs to be sure that you aren't just acting up just because is your first day. He tells you to take a seat, pretty close to his desk. So he can keep a better eye on you.

Throughout the whole class, you been well-behaved and friendly with all your classmates, that were freaking out every time you said "hi" to them.

He thought about calling you out on your constant chatting, but then again, it was your first day and you seemed excited to know more about your classmates. And you weren't really talking all that much, just asking if you could borrow something you forgot.

He only gave you a couple of glances when you would speaking a little too loud, so you would take a hint. Yet, you seemed so… innocent. You didn't get angry or made a fuss saying that "you weren't even talking".

"- Oh… Sorry!" You would shy away with just a stare? Really?

You been paying close attention to what he says, and what he teaches you. It's nice to see you paying attention, but it feels so distracting.

After your first week, he heard other teachers talk about you, all of them were impressed with your kindness, even if they all were waiting a little troublemaker.

When school ended, you would help your teachers to clean the class before going back home. With isn't really needed, there are plenty of janitors around the school.

Yet there you are, chatting with the school staff and helping with their work.

He should probably stop stalking you. He has seen with his own eyes that you weren't the person that he heard about, you were better than what people thought you were.

However, something kept him from simply walking away, from letting you be and giving you your privacy.

Since your first day, he has taken the spot as your stern, grumpy teacher. He hasn't been necessarily mean towards you, but he would act a lot more distant with you than other students.

It was pretty selfish of him to act like this considering you haven't done anything wrong. But he wanted to keep observing.

In his head, the reasons behind doing this things were to see if you weren't the delinquent everyone was afraid off and to let you know that he doesn't tolerate troublemakers.

But inside his obsessive little heart, he was stalking you because he couldn't have enough of you, and he was being distant because it was how he was. He didn't knew how to react to your presence.

You managed to steal his heart in the three weeks, yet not even you or him noticed this.

→Madeline Allen:

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, please no!?

She doesn't really like conflict. So when she heard she would be dealing with a delinquent she was instantly frightened.

To make matters worse, she heard you came from her old high school, a school known for their terrible discipline and being the "breeding place" for most delinquents and gangs around town.

She hated that place so much, that after she graduated she burned her blue uniform jacket, so she couldn't remember all the terrible things that happened there.

But if you're from that school, and if you're a delinquent, then all her memories will come back to taunt her!

She is freaking out while waiting for her next class.

' Please don't come in, please don't come in, please don't come in-' She chanted inside her mind, hoping it would work somehow.

When all the students came in, none of them were wearing that disgusting blue jacket, and none of them looked… Like delinquents.

' Oh good, I guess they missed the first day of school!' Madeline thought happily, thinking that if you aren't here, she can prepare herself more when she has to see you.

She decided to purposely miss your name from the class calling, still thinking you weren't there. But when she finished the list and ask if she missed anyone, a soft and timid voice said:

"- H-Hi! You didn't say my name…" She looked at the student who said it. Finding out a adorable new student with beautiful bright eyes.

"- I'm sorry, dear. Can you tell me your name so I can write it down?"

"- It's [Y/N] [L/N]."

.

.

.

At that moment the whole atmosphere on the class changed. No one was expecting you to be the so called delinquent.

Madeline looked up again, afraid the student that she saw was only a mirage. You looked so cute and kind, there was no way you were as bad as they had thought.

But then again, if there was one thing that she learned from her time at Saint Bernard's School for Little Prodigies was that appearances aren't all that they seemed.

She didn't want to confess that she purposely missed your name, but she didn't want to lie about your name not being there either, so she only said:

"- Oh, I'm so sorry, your name is here, I guess I totally missed." Smooth.

You looked apprehensive, afraid your name wasn't in this class and you would have to go and find where could your class be, but when she said you belong here you looked so relieved.

It was adorable how you smiled at her, so eager to be in her class.

She can deny her growing curiosity. She didn't want to remember about her old school, yet she wanted to know how is it today.

You don't look or act like a bully. So maybe they finally changed their ways?

Looking at you being so attentive to her class and being such a sweetheart with school staff filled her with hope.

She decided to approach you by asking how was your older school, and although you feel a little scared of telling her, you do it anyway.

The truth was that you didn't spend as much time in there as most people think. You been there for four months and that was it. You couldn't put into words how terrible everything was, it was like hell on Earth!

You would go meet her in her class after school ended. She would offer you some cookies while you would try your best to explain how it was in that awful place.

You been the victim of awful pranks, bullying, you been accused of being a thief multiple times, even if no one has any proof. Gangs dominated the school and it was easy to see how the students were the ones that truly owned the place.

The only thing you remember learning in that school, was how to survive in a school after all classes ended, late at night, with minimum food and hiding away from the gangs that were fighting inside school at 1:00 a.m.

You also remember hearing that place was haunted, so yeah, it was your worst slumber party ever.

Every detail you told her made you remember the awful things you went through in the span of four months. You started to cry without even realizing.

And Madeline started crying too. She was in that place for three years. If you went through hell in four months, imagine going through it for three years.

But, oddly enough, she wasn't alarmed by the memories coming in. What she was truly worried about was you.

"- I-I don't how I did it, I-" You tried to speak. You tried to reason. How the hell did you survive?

"- Shh, it's okay." She interrupted you to hug you. To comfort you.

"- You're crying too, I'm sorry if-"

"- I know, don't worry about it."

You been there, you been through hell, yet you're so kind. You didn't change, you didn't let that awful place change who you were. She can tell you always been like this, thoughtful of others and kind.

You didn't let that place change you, like Madeline did.

You hugged her back and let her comfort you.

That was the moment where she decided, she won't let you get hurt anymore.

You been so gentle and helpful towards students and school staff, even if they all were scared of you. She can let anyone speak about you as if you were some sort of disease, not anymore.

She won't let that happen.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[italiansteebie]

Prompt: After a fight with his dad Steve accidentally runs into Hopper.

Sigh. I don't really like how this turned out, but oh well. The ending is kinda bad... just ignore that lol. Under the cut for violence and abuse. Hope u like it. :)

“Hop, we got a call about a teenager walking’ around the woods. With all the kids going missing lately you should probably go check it out,” Flo says. Hopper sighs, it’s 2 a.m. and El’s at Max’s house tonight so he took the late shift, he didn’t think there would be any calls this late. He knows it’s probably some drunk kid like Tommy H. He just hopes it’s no one that he knows. “Where exactly is this call from, Flo?” he drags a hand through is hair and put on his hat, “The woods behind Lock Norah, caller said the kid looks like he’s been in a fight. He’s got a backpack on, and according the the caller, he’s carrying some sort of... Nail-Bat.” She says, a look of disinterest showing on her face. Hopper’s shoulders drop as he realized who it is, “Harrington,” he sighs. “I’ll check it out.” and he walks out the door and gets into the Patrol Car with a huff. He hopes the kid isn’t drunk, he really doesn’t want to have to put up with his shit tonight. He had thought Harrington changed after the whole Demodog situation, and after the Party adopted him into their little group. 

He pulls up to the edge of the woods surrounding the Neighborhood and gets out of the Patrol car, grabbing a couple of flashlights, and hopes there isn’t any left over Demodogs. He treks into the trees and begins calling out Steve’s name, not wanting to be too loud, after all, it’s the middle of the night. 10 minutes of walking and looking for Steve goes by and Hopper begins to think the kid went back home, he goes to turn back towards his truck when he hears the leaves crunch and someone muttering to themselves.

3 hours ago at the Harrington house, Steve is sitting at his desk, hunched over a few pieces of paper. Job applications. His parents cut him off, they weren’t satisfied with Steve’s grades, and according to his father, his parents were being overly generous by letting him continue living in their house. He fills out all the applications and stuff them in his bag, planning on handing them in tomorrow. At least it’s the weekend, he thinks to himself. He stairs at the wall ahead of him, and gets lost in thought, he doesn’t hear his dad come home, and he doesn’t hear him until he’s standing over Steve. “Good Evening, Steven.” His father makes his presence known, Steve jumps at the sound, and clears his throat, “Good evening, dad. What- uhh. What’s up?” His father looks at him with cold eyes, “What’s up? Is that all you have to say to me, Steven? Is What’s Up?” Steve stammers, trying to respond but his father cuts him off before he can. “Steven. I came across some interesting news today.” He leans down so he’s eye to eye with his son, “Do you have anything you want to tell me. Anything, at all?” Steve’s stomach sinks. Did his dad find out that he’s bisexual? Or is this about the threat of him not graduating high school? Or... Did his dad find out about his trip to Indianapolis. Oh, god, he hopes not. The things he did there are somethings he was never going to tell his Father.

“Tell me, Steven,” His father clears his throat and smiles evilly, “How was your trip to Indianapolis? Was it fun? Did you and the others have a good time?” Steve’s heart drops from his chest, hits the floor, and keeps falling to the core of the Earth. “I. Um, well-” His father waves his hand, signaling him to shut up. “Steven, since you were younger, you’ve always been in touch with your, feminine side.” He pats Steve’s head, “But I thought, the discussion we had, stopped that.” Steve remembers that discussion, he had been told to stop acting like a fucking f*g, and had been grabbed by his hair and thrown down the stairs. That was 5 years ago. “Tut, tut, Steven. Looks like it didn’t get through your thick skull. Oh and don’t think I am unaware of you possibly not graduating. You have been a great disappointment, Steven.” Steve shudders, he can’t imagine what his father is going to do, but he quickly finds out. His father yanks him out of his seat by his hair, and punches him across the face. He kicks him back into the wall where Steve’s head knocks so hard against it, that he blacks out for a second. “You have 15 minutes, to get you things, and get out of my home. Goodbye Steven.” His father walks out of his room and into his office, where he shuts and locks the door. 

He haphazardly grabs a backpack and begins throwing clothes into it. He grabs his bat and saunters down the stairs, and finds his mother in the kitchen, nursing a glass of wine. He grabs the open bottle, waves goodbye to his mother, who hasn’t said anything this whole time, and walks out the back door. Past the pool where Barb died, and into the woods. Where hopefully, there aren’t any demon dogs, or whatever Dustin called them. As he walks he drinks from the bottle he stole from his mother.  His vision is blurry from his bleeding eye, and possible concussion, but he walks anyway. He’s talking to himself, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying, he’s just saying nonsense. 15 minutes into his walk, his wine runs out, and he drops the bottle somewhere, he stumbles on for another minute until he runs into a body. 

He falls back and lands on the ground with an oof. “Steve,” The body says, and a hand reaches out to grab him, Steve puts his hands over his head to shield himself, not wanting to get hit. Hopper snatches his hand back, “Hey, hey kid. It’s Hopper. What are ya doing out here, kid?” Steve looks up, “Hop?” 

“Yeah, kid.”

“I, uh. I got into a fight.”

“I can see that, Harrington. You smell like booze too. You drunk?”

Steve giggles and nods his head, “I got into a fight, but don’t worry, you should see the other guy...” he trails off, voice dropping into a sad whisper. “Let’s get you home, kid,” Hopper says, pulling Steve off the ground. Once standing, Steve pulls out of his grasp, “No. I can’t go home. I don’t have a home anymore.” Hopper’s heart drops, “Kid. Is everything alright at home?” Steve suddenly much more sober than he was, “No. Hop. Nothing is alright at home. I don’t. Have. A home. I got kicked out for being a f*g.” a spits, tears flowing down his face in a steady stream. “So get it over with. Beat me up and leave already. I can’t deal with this right now. I have to find a place to stay tonight.” 

Hopper grabs Steve’s wrists, “I’m not gonna lay a hand on you kid. Come on,” he says gently, “Where are you taking me? Oh, jail I guess. Underage drinking. God. I’m so fucking stupid.” Hopper stays quiet and leads Steve out of the woods to the Patrol car. They get in and Hopper starts driving, “What happened, kid? Your dad do that to you?” Hopper asks after a few minutes of driving, Steve just nods his head. “I didn't even know they were going to be home this weekend. I thought they were in France for another week.” Steve admits. “How long do your parents leave you at a time, Steve?” Steve just shrugs. “This time it was 6 months.” And that’s all Hopper needs to hear, tomorrow the Harringtons are going to get a nice visit for negligence and physical abuse. 

Hopper pulls off the road onto a dirt trail, “This isn’t the way to the station, Chief.” Steve says, “You need a place to sleep right? You’re staying at the cabin with me and El tonight.” Steve starts to protest, insisting that he can’t barge into their home like that, but Hopper stops him. “You aren’t barging in, I invited you, and it’s only for tonight. Tomorrow we’re going to go by the Byers’ house and sort out their extra room for you,” Steve’s mouth falls open, “You can’t just thrust me onto Joyce! I am not going to be a burden to you guys.I’ll just go to the homeless shelter in Indy.” Hopper shakes his head, and puts the car in park, having made it back to the cabin. “That’s not going to happen. You’re not a burden, Steve. Just let people help you.” Steve nods his head as an okay, gets out of the car and follows Hopper to the house. 

When they get inside, Hopper shows him to the couch, points at where to bathroom is and heads to his room. Steve sets his bag and bat down on the floor next to the couch, and lays down on the couch. He doesn’t bother changing his clothes, he doesn't think he grabbed any pajamas anyways. Right as he’s drifting off Hopper lays a blanket over him, “We’re gonna get you taken care of kid. You got nothin’ to worry about.” He ruffles his hair and walks back into his bedroom to go to sleep. Steve closes his eyes and begins a dreamless sleep. Everything is going to be okay. 

[bobbystompy]

91 Quotes I Enjoyed From 2020

Below are my favorite quotes from 2020. Though most occurred throughout the year, some took place before but were encountered during.

1) “You don’t have to be new to make new.” - Rick Rubin

2) “He put the beat on and go to sleep then wake up with a verse.” - The Lox

3) “Every opinion is bad.” - Blink-155

4)

(via Twitter)

5) “At the start of every disaster movie, there’s a scientist being ignored.”

6) “Be brave enough to suck at something new.”

7) “Comedy is the only job you can have where you can use everything you know” - Robin Williams via Dave Chappelle

8) “What’s the worst swear word where you live?” - Josiah Hughes

9) “Cookies are a really great way to get everybody to like you for a short period of time” - YSAC

10) “The worst dancer at a wedding is the one who’s not dancing.” - John Mulaney

11) “I never saw the end of the tunnel. I only saw myself running out of one." - Kobe Bryant

12) "A good movie begins as you're walking out of the theater" - Ethan Hawke

13) “When I was young and starting in cinema, there was a saying that I carved deep into my heart which is, 'The most personal is the most creative.’ That quote was from our great Martin Scorsese.” - Bong Joon-ho

14) “Run to the rescue with love, and peace will follow” - River Phoenix via Joaquin Phoenix

15) “Thank you -- I will drink until next morning.” - Bong Joon-ho

16) “Men will bury their emotions for decades and then take it all out on children tubing while they drive the boat.” - @krauter_

17) “They help you with the dumb face stuff, but they don’t tell you how to fix it” - Adam (Nate’s friend), on having older sisters

18) “We all had our connections, but it’s not the details themselves that matter, it’s the feeling behind them. There are a million coming-of-age tales. Lady Bird’s secret sauce is how deeply its creator gave a shit. The older I get, the less I care about anything but the sense of a filmmaker’s personal connection to the material. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, what genre it is, or whether it’s genre at all. I only really care that it feels like something the filmmaker had to tell me, and that it was that filmmaker in particular who had to tell it. It has to answer the ‘why are you telling me this’ question, and not just why are you telling me, but why are you telling me.

Lady Bird is a movie that feels like only Greta Gerwig could’ve made. And it’s only because it’s so specific to her that it can be so meaningful to so many people.” - Vince Mancini

19) "I have cast some lonely votes, fought some lonely fights, mounted some lonely campaigns. But I do not feel lonely now.” - Bernie Sanders

20) “Ever hear a Beatles song you haven’t heard before?”

21) “Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn. I guess I've lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.” - Charles Bukowski

22) “You shouldn’t have to hear a band to know if they’re good or not” - Josiah Hughes

23) “I was raised by OGs.  Some of you were raised by IG.  I understand.” - Ice-T

* * *

[Here is where I note the line of demarcation that was the COVID-19 pandemic hitting the US, pushed forward by Tom Hanks’ announcement, the NBA and NCAA shutting down, and, then, the nation itself.]

* * *

24) “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen.” - Vladimir Lenin

25) "Taken together, this is a massive failure in leadership that stems from a massive defect in character. Trump is such a habitual liar that he is incapable of being honest, even when being honest would serve his interests. He is so impulsive, shortsighted, and undisciplined that he is unable to plan or even think beyond the moment. He is such a divisive and polarizing figure that he long ago lost the ability to unite the nation under any circumstances and for any cause. And he is so narcissistic and unreflective that he is completely incapable of learning from his mistakes. The president’s disordered personality makes him as ill-equipped to deal with a crisis as any president has ever been. With few exceptions, what Trump has said is not just useless; it is downright injurious." - Peter Wehner

26) "Epidemics have a way of revealing underlying truths about the societies they impact." - Anne Applebaum

27) “A funny thing about quarantining is hearing your partner in full work mode for the first time. Like, I’m married to a ‘let’s circle back’ guy — who knew?” - Laura Norkin

28) 

(Jojo Rabbit)

29) “The world ends when you're dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. - Deadwood: The Movie

30) “All bleeding stops eventually.” - Deadwood: The Movie

31) “Our Father, which art in heaven… / Let him fucking stay there” - Deadwood: The Movie

32) “It’s like a power outage, but we still have power” - Ryen Russillo, on the pandemic

33) “Whenever Sox baseball returns, it’ll be weird to not have Farmer on the call any more. The relationship between a fan and longtime announcer is always built in the little moments. One afternoon, he’s the soundtrack as you clean the garage. On another night, he’s your bookmark for the game as you stand in line for churros or walk down the ramps at Sox Park to try for better seats in the 100 level. A voice like Farmer’s becomes so familiar that you only really notice when it’s no longer there.” - Kevin Kaduk, on the passing of Ed Farmer

34) 

(via Twitter)

35) “In my songs, I try to look through someone else’s eyes, and I want to give the audience a feeling more than a message” - John Prine

36) “Observe everything. Admire nothing.” - Generation Kill

37) “Trump, by that definition, has always been a wartime president -- always willing to sacrifice people he doesn’t know to things he only sort of cares about” - David Roth

38) "Whenever they speak Michael Jordan, they should speak Scottie Pippen." - Michael Jordan

39) "Fiction is a bridge to the truth that journalism can't reach." - Hunter S. Thompson

40) “Airlines sending me “we’re in this together” emails. When my suitcase was 52 pounds I was on my own.” - Mike Dentale

41) “Sometimes you can be the worst source of your own story” - Ryen Russillo

42) “Family is not necessarily blood, but instead who you would bleed for.”

43)

(via Twitter)

44) "This is the deal that Jordan made, knowingly or unknowingly — that he would trade everything he had for everything he wanted. And then, when he won all those things, he found that he had nothing but that.” - David Roth

45) “I’m brand loyal, but the brand doesn’t matter” - Caitie Miller, on why she doesn’t like generic peanut butter

46) “NOBODY shitposts Gene Hackman!!” - Mark Dehlinger

47) “When a man concludes that any stick is good enough to beat his foe with—that is when he picks up a boomerang.” - G.K. Chesterton

48) “You can be appalled forever, but shocked only once.” - Jeff Weiss, on early Eminem

49) “Whether I’m pessimistic or optimistic, the fight’s the same” - David Simon

50) “Freedom can never be completely won, but it can be lost.” - Bernard Simon

51) “Racism in America is like dust in the air. It seems invisible — even if you’re choking on it — until you let the sun in. Then you see it’s everywhere. As long as we keep shining that light, we have a chance of cleaning it wherever it lands.” -Kareem Abdul Jabbar

52) “In a racist society, it is not enough to be non-racist -- we must be anti-racist.” - Angela Davis

53) “Start as close to the end as possible” - Kurt Vonnegut, on creative writing

54) “You can’t stay woke all the time — that’s insomnia.” - Dr. Cornel West

55) “No, I get it. I’ve dated a lot of Geminis.”

56) “The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” - John Krakauer, Into The Wild (via Tyler Keller)

57) "I couldn't show them my For You because it's pretty much just lesbian stuff and depression memes" - Maggie Loesch, on showing TikTok to her coworkers

58) "It's 1 a.m. in Slovakia and I've already had one bottle of wine and I don't know how long this press conference will go, so good luck to me." - Marian Hossa, following his NHL Hall of Fame announcement

59) “All I want in life is to go on an Anguilla group trip” - Mandy Gilkes

60) “You miss old friends when you don’t see them, but you miss them more when you do.” - Chuck Klosterman

61) “The only way to appreciate the present is to pretend it’s already the past.” - Chuck Klosterman

62) Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth Until they've faded, but trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back At photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now How much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked

(”Everybody's Free [To Wear Sunscreen]”)

Second time that essay’s been quoted on this list.

64) "I mean, it's just human nature to suck up to the people above you, crap on those beneath you, and undercut your equals” - Brian, Family Guy

65) “You never quit a job. You quit a manager.” - Brian Bedford

66) “All the pictures in my house are of people I’m not friends with” - Tracy Cunningham

67) “In order to leave something behind, you have to leave.” - Dr. Herman, Grey’s Anatomy

68) 

(via Twitter)

69) “You can obsess about death if you don’t have to obsess about dying.” - Brendan Kelly via “White Noise”

70) “If it’s right to do, it’s wrong to wait.” - Andy, doorman 

71)

72) “When I'm sometimes asked when will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court] and I say, 'When there are nine,' people are shocked. But there'd been nine men, and nobody's ever raised a question about that.” - Ruth Bader Ginsburg

73) "America is mostly people who’ve never left their state saying we have the best country in the world." - Billy Wayne Davis

74) “A writer is someone who knows at least 80% of their writing sucks.” - Gabe Hudson

75) 

(via Twitter)

76) “You’re dead twice” - Brendan Kelly

77) “Perfect is the enemy of good” - Voltaire (via Zach Lowe)

78) “I don’t want to be a savior, I want to be a mirror.” - Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

79) “I get bad Twitter FOMO but not real life FOMO. That just goes to show I need to get off the Internet.” - Josh Thomas

80) “Is there anything you love in life that you engage with seriously that you don't also engage with humor?" - Sam Sutherland, on his relationship with Blink-182

81) “My favorite genre of music is my friends' bands" - Josiah Hughes

82) “Let’s fall in love like both our parents aren’t divorced.”

83) “Seabiscuit may be the only earthling that was on both sides of the stamp.” - Brendan Kelly

84) “There’s no shame in coming in second, except in, like, wars.” - Family Guy

85) “I feel like I experience writer’s block 100% of the time, and when I do write, I have impostor syndrome.” - Phoebe Bridgers

86) “We teach based on what we most need to learn.” - psychologist on Grey’s Anatomy

87) “Having too many choices is the leading cause of stress” - Grey’s Anatomy

88) “I think we've all gravely underestimated the extent to which this year has changed all of us, permanently” - Kelli Maria Korducki

89) 

(via Twitter)

90) “I wonder if people understand why they don’t have polio” - Sandra E. Garcia

91) “Ending songs is terrible, so let’s keep singing” - Dave Hernandez

[threeletterslife]

NALGCF...

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ NOTHING A LIL GREEN CAN’T FIX (I MEAN, UNLESS YOU WANT SPOILERS)

「 background 」

i thought i had this idea in my drafts for longer, but apparently not. i came up with it on may 28th, 2019 at 11:26 a.m. (or so google docs tells me). i started off this story with FOUR things in mind

1. the title HAD to be nothing a lil green can’t fix  2. yn is eccentric as fuck 3. jimin and yn grow up together 4. jimin founds out yn is not real

then from may to late february, i just wrote down a whole list of crazy shit i’ve seen people do on the internet and just made yn do it LOL. someone on tiktok painted a qr code on their jacket and i was like holy shit that’s smart and made yn do something very similar!

it’s rare when i come up with the title of a fic first, but i knew that for this work, i wanted my motif to be GREEN. honestly, i didn’t have anything plotted for this fic for a LONG time. i knew that yn would be a cRaZy, i-don’t-give-a-fuck character and that jimin would be more mellow, but i didn’t know what the problem of the story would be for a while. initially, yn was going to be a figment of jimin’s imagination. he’d gone through a lot of trauma after his mother had left, so yn was sort of going to be like the ‘guardian angel’ type of spirit to him. i was THIS close to making jimin schizophrenic, but i realized how depressing the whole story would be if i made that happen... and i didn’t want another sad story

so i knew yn would then have to be REAL. but that was hard because i had no idea what the problem of the story would be. (the problem had originally been jimin finding out yn was not real lol.) i had to get inspo from my best friend to finally figure out the main obstacle in yn and jimin’s friendship: yn’s boyfriend. believe it or not, from then on i fucking FREE-STYLED. i don’t freestyle, periodt. but something about this story let me?? i think i wrote the whole story in a span of less than a week. but as i was writing, i didn’t know what was going to happen next LMAO

it was a WILD journey. (i don’t think i’ve ever, EVER free-styled a story in my life... until now, that is)

originally, i wanted the story to be a friends to lovers!au, but one of my friends told me that was kinda cliché (he didn’t know that i was writing a fanfiction lmfaoo). but my best friend told me if i ended another story where the couple separated or didn’t fall in love, she’d like neck me or something. I HAD SUCH A HUGE INTERNAL DILEMMA. i finally decided to just write and see where my words took me

i was around 17.6k words into the story when i finally knew how the story would end. it wouldn’t make sense for jimin to go through all that time away from yn and heal himself to just fALL back in love with her. that’s not character development. that’s falling back to bad habits. and it would make even LESS sense for yn to pop out of nowhere and just be like ‘omg jimin i love you too!’ so i knew the two were not going to end up together. (i also had to change the f2l!au into something else LOL.) if anyone asks (no one asks) but if anyone asks what my favorite scene to write in the whole fucking 19.2k word-fic, i’d hands down without a doubt choose the cafe scene where yn and jimin reunite after two years. i teared up a bit writing that, actually. it was like seeing my two babies coming together after dealing with so much hardship over the years

but my favorite line of the fic is the last one. i was on a writing spree on that last day (i think i wrote 3k on the spot) and that line just came to me. i thought it was a great way to end the story

「 inspiration」

this story was actually pretty heavily inspired, in the beginning, by a book by fredrik backman called my grandmother asked me to tell you she’s sorry. that book made me cry like four different times lol. i recommend if you’re into reading!

also,,, yn did a LOT of the things i’ve always wanted to do when i was younger but i was too afraid to try. i guess she’s the inner me but with a FLAIR

「 extras」

hilarious fucking fact. so, as i told y’all already, i FREE-STYLED the shit out of this story. but one of the FUNNIEST things happened:

okay, so, remember that birthday scene at the restaurant? the one where yn’s flaunting her new red marker that joon had gifted her? WELL. I NAMED THAT MARKER RM BECAUSE AND ONLY BECAUSE IT WAS JOON’S STAGE NAME. BUT AS I WAS GOING BACK AND EDITING, I REALIZED RM CAN ALSO STAND FOR RED MARKER ISN’T THAT FUCKING CRAZY I DIDN’T PLAN THAT SHIT

my friends who helped proofread the story thought i did it on purpose LMFAO

also, originally, the story title was not going to be in the story at all. i usually like it better when the title is left out of the story idk. but my brain decided it would make sense for yn to be a cafe owner and her cafe would be named nalgcf so that was that LOL

「 motifs/lessons 」

i had two important motifs in the story: the color green and the weather. not gonna lie, i was never a huge fan of green until i started writing this. green symbolizes greed, yes, cunningness, yes, but it also symbolizes growth, action and life. i wanted to make it very clear that life doesn’t turn out the way you always hope it does. there will always be slight modifications in your dreams. no dream can truly come true because there is no light without darkness; but that’s okay. you take what you get and you live with it. that is what green is to me when i wrote nalgcf. it is the color of moving on from things you should not be stuck in

the weather motif is more of a symbolization for ‘things will get better.’ no matter how hard the storm hits, how excruciatingly bright the lightning bolts are and how loud the thunder roars, clear weather will come. 

this story is about coming of age as the au suggests. you get to see both characters develop before your eyes. i guess what i’m trying to say is, there is nothing wrong with change. there is nothing wrong with being normal. there is nothing wrong with being eccentric. it’s okay not to know what you want to do in the future. it’s all right if you’re friend-zoned. nothing’s the end of the world, honestly. (unless there’s a meteor hurtling at us from space, but that’s an au for another time)

i think nalgcf holds the lesson that change is a part of life. people around you will change. you will change. the whole goddamn world will change. sometimes it’s good to just not give a flying fuck

[ms31x129]

Advanced Techniques

9:00 a.m. FBI Headquarters Assistant Director Skinner’s Office

"Agent Mulder & Agent Scully, you have two choices. You can either go to this year's team building seminar in Oklahoma. Or there is a joint CIA / FBI advanced partner class on Evade & Escape Techniques."

Mulder and Scully had barely sat down when Skinner issued his ultimatum, noticing them for a second in his peripheral vision before speaking. He could imagine the 2 of them glancing at each other, Scully shrugging slightly. Mulder probably rolling his eyes, his brain coming up with some excuse not to attend. Here it comes the indrawn breath 1, 2, 3 …

Skinner finally looks up, Mulder's mouth is open. "Non-compliance will result in suspension without pay for 6 weeks." Mulder's mouth snaps shut and Scully reaches out to cover his forearm with her hand. "Sir Agent Mulder and I will attend the joint CIA / FBI training… right Mulder?" It wasn't really a question.

Mulder could feel Scully’s thumb - feather-light - stroking up and down his arm. Jesus Christ! It was so subtle, but even so he started to sweat, lately - pardon the cliche’ - he felt like a walking hard-on around her. Did she know what she what she was doing to him? He felt a distinct tingle run up his arm, like a fuzzy caterpillar inching its way along his nerve endings and straight to his groin. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a slight smile grace her plump lips - oh she knew alright - the minx.

It was all Scully could do not to laugh at Mulder’s head nodding like one of those bobblehead hound dogs that were popular in the 70’s. “Right,” he cleared his throat as he stood and grabbed the forms and travel packet that had appeared in Skinner’s hand. “C’mon Scully.” Mulder pulled her up by her arm and hustled her out the door, Skinner was still staring at the closed door after Mulder and Scully’s quick exit. That was just too easy, Mulder didn’t even put up a fuss. Skinner could feel a headache starting to form right between his eyes, Mulder and the CIA - oh shit. Skinner dropped his head into his hands, the New Spartans Case, how did he let that slip his mind, Mulder and to an extent Scully hadn’t endeared themselves to the Agents on that case. He hoped that any animosity wouldn’t come back to bite Mulder, Scully or him in the ass.

6:00am Unknown location

Soft, softness brushing his cheek, smells so good. Breathe deep, draw the sweet scented air through his nose and deep into his lungs. Sigh. Her weight feels so good on him, surrounding him, ahh Scully. Her nose and lips against his neck, each puff of air she exhales tickling and arousing at the same time. Her breasts pressing into his chest, her nipples are hard - he can feel them. Oh yes. He takes a deep breath and rubs against her with a little tilt of each shoulder, dragging those soft mounds and hard points side to side. He longs to take one, no both, yes both into his mouth.

Mulder’s eyes are still closed when he feels her lips kissing and then her tongue licking the skin of his neck. “Mmm… Mulder.” He turns his head down to meet her mouth in a long hot and wet kiss. Mulder moans when she starts grinding her hips in circles and then up and down his length. Why in the hell are his pants still on? The suddenly overpowering fragrance of her arousal makes him dizzy and crazy at the same time. He needs to be in her. Right now. She’s panting and Mulder knows she’s close, the way her breath starts hitching, the way her teeth are scraping down the pulse in his neck.

Scully gives a final deep grinding twist and groans out her climax, Mulder splays his hands along her back and hips pulling her down onto him forcefully and realizes his hands are handcuffed round her. He opens his eyes and takes in their surroundings. Fuck. Where in the hell?

“Scully … Scully.” She’s still lethargic from her orgasm and she doesn’t want to emerge from the bliss rolling through her, but something in Mulder’s tone a hint of worry, panic maybe. Scully raises her head and looks into his face, a satisfied smile on her own before she sits up fully and finds her wrists handcuffed to a chair. Mulder’s hands cuffed behind her, both of their ankles tied to the chair legs and his still rock hard erection beneath her.

“What in the hell, Mulder?” She’s shifting around trying to figure out how they’re going to get out of the predicament they’re in. She finally stills with Mulder’s tortured plea. “Please...Scu - Scully… stay still.” Scully looks at Mulder beads of sweat are pooling on his face, neck and chest, he licks his lips and he leaves his tongue hanging out for a moment, a drop of saliva suspended on the tip, his breathing is labored as he struggles for control.

Scully leans toward him which causes her hips to shift backwards, Mulder grunts and thrusts up into her, she grits her teeth, she’s still hyper-sensitive and hisses from the friction. “Sorry,” Scully apologizes. “What’s the last thing you remember Mulder?”

“I remember the Agent Morrison congratulating all of us for completing the course… and then, and then going for lunch…” Mulder and Scully each speak simultaneously, “Having a toast with all the other agents.”

“We were fucking drugged! Mulder!” Looking around Mulder could see they were in a room about 12 x 12, there was one window and the sun was starting to fill the room with light. He could see other objects in the room. A desk, a couple of chairs, a door opened to a bathroom maybe? There is also a small refrigerator on the far wall, his eyes scan the room more and that’s when Mulder sees the blackboard.

 Good Morning Agents!

 Welcome to the final requirement of Advanced Evade & Escape Techniques. This is the ultimate test from the training you have received and whether you pass or fail the course. If you have not checked into FBI headquarters in 48 hours a rescue team will be dispatched. An emergency generator has been set up that will provide minimal power for 36 hours.

 Good Luck, Agents.

Scully shook her head in disbelief after Mulder read the writing, damn CIA, why’d she have to pick the training course. “Okay, Mulder I think if you can tilt us forward on the front legs just a little there should enough slack in the ropes to use my feet and slide the knots off the back legs of the chair.”

Mulder glanced down and thought Scully’s plan was sound, if the knots weren’t too tight, it should work. Scully uses the chair legs to pry her shoes off, her toes would be more agile for action she’s about to try. He only hopes his legs are strong enough after being in the same position for who knows how many hours. Mulder moved his hands as far down as he could and grabbed Scully’s ass firmly before looking in her eyes. “Be quick, Scully.” She nods in agreement and with a shift of his weight he stands leans forward and pushes.

Scully hooks her toes around the knots as best she can and then pushes the knots inch by inch down the chair leg. Luckily she is able to get them both off with minimal struggle and her feet were free. They ended up deciding to tilt the chair sideways and do one foot at a time for Mulder, since Scully was working backward and couldn’t see, it had to be by feel.

Finally Mulders feet and legs were free too. Now to deal with the intricacies of their bodies being interlocked with handcuffs. “Scully if you can use the rungs of the chair to stand a little I should be able to slide down enough that then you can sort step over me and once your legs are together I should be able to slide my arms down all the way for you to step free.”

“Okay.” Scully agrees quickly. This is easier said than done, Mulder manages to shimmy down, but then his arms are stretched awkwardly up and under Scully’s armpits and his neck is digging into the seat of the chair. Scully’s muscles are quivering when she hears, “Jesus Christ Scully you’re not fucking wearing any panties,” and feels Mulder’s nose burrowing into her, his tongue taking a long satisfying lick and quick suck on her clit.

She can’t take it, the overload of sensation, she puts one foot back on the floor, “Down… now! Mulder,” and steps over Mulder’s body with the other. Mulder drags his arms down, around her hips and buttocks, her thighs, knees, calves and finally her feet. He can’t help himself, his erection has only gotten harder, if that’s possible - and he nibbles his way down her bare legs finally ending with a kiss to her ankle. Scully lets out a sobbing breath and shivers when she hears a zipper. She looks back and sees Mulder on his knees erection in his hands, her own now holding the back of the chair clench and unclench.

Mulder stands dragging her skirt up higher, higher until it’s around her waist. His fingers are sliding between her legs and she feels the scrape of metal against her flesh. She wants to be worried about camera surveillance or audio recording, but right now she just wants Mulder to quench the fire scorching it’s way through her. Mulder steps to the side of her, reaching under, opening her blouse and pulling both of her breasts out of the cups of her bra. He pinches and rolls her nipples with his fingertips, bends over and claims her mouth. He pulls away after a few moments, “I need you, Scully….I…”

Mulder drags his hands along her side, her hip and her buttocks in his journey until he’s standing behind her. Scully widens her stance as the head of Mulder’s cock is - poised, firmly pressed just where they both want it. She looks back over her shoulder, locking eyes with him, they are glazed with passion. “Then take me Mulder…”

Scully pushes her hips back, but Mulder has a firm hold on her ass, thumbs right along the crease finger splayed wide. He pushes straight into her no hesitation, no fumbling, a slow firm glide until he’s reached the limit and hits her cervix. They both shudder, Mulder has taken her from behind before, but this seems different, he feels so huge inside her. She needs him to move, why isn’t he moving? The thought is barely formed, and he does. Oh yes he does.

Every thrust Mulder makes is a full slow dragging slide out and a faster stroke in over and over. “I can feel you Scully, you’re almost there aren’t you?” Scully drops her head, wants to laugh at seeing her breasts dangling - swaying back and forth with every snap of Mulder’s hips. She can’t laugh, not now her lungs feel like they’re ready to explode. “Tell me!” He demands his voice sounds desperate - pleading.

“YES!” Scully screams out, her head snapping back, her orgasm ripping through her. Mulder yells out her name, thrusting quickly until his own climax overtakes him. He feels her vaginal walls rippling around his cock as it pulses and purges his semen deep inside of her. It’s not long before the final tremors are over and both of them are spent. Mulder’s erection slips from inside her, not completely flaccid, he moves his thumbs, his hands in a soothing almost petting motion and sees the reddened area the handcuffs have left on Scully’s fair skin. “Sorry...Scully,” he says before placing a gently kiss there. “It’s okay, Mulder,” she takes a breath. “Would you please see if you can find anything to get us out of these cuffs?”

“Yeah, yeah… of course.” Mulder manages to get his trousers back into place and at least buttoned. Going to the desk he finds it appears completely empty. What now? He’s just going to shut the last drawer when a glint catches his eye. There in the crack between the drawer bottom and the side panel is a small paperclip.

“I found a paperclip Scully. Just a second.” With little effort Mulder quickly picks the lock on his handcuffs and then walks over and unlocks Scully’s. His fingers and thumbs massage the reddened rings around her wrists. “I’m going to fuckin kill them Scullly!” She stood up to her full height and took a step back, for a moment she was a little dizzy. Still holding her hands Mulder pulls her close and they embrace fully, kissing each other softly. Mulder pulls away, bringing each of her hands up and kissing those offending red rings. Scully sighs, “Mulder… I’m fair skinned they will fade… they weren’t overly tight. I, I think it mostly happened when we were … you know…”

Mulder nods his head even as he pulls her into his arms for another kiss. They each use the bathroom and grab some bottled water out of the fridge before trying the main door, which wasn’t locked at all. Mulder is beginning to wonder if this little exercise was really just to fuck with their heads, only now does he wonder why there was so much slack in the ropes binding them. Outside the building was their FBI issued car and the keys in the ignition. Getting in Mulder starts the car, he was going to pull out, but he still had to ask her.

"Scully where in the hell are your underwear?" Scully turns her head astonishment written on her face. "You don't remember?" Mulder searches his memories and it isn't long before Scully can see he knows. Mulder presses the button on the center console and inside under a stack of papers is her powder blue underwear. Mulder recalls hooking the matching bra the morning before when all he wanted to do was take it back off and make love the rest of the day.

Mulder smiles when his thoughts drift to after what they thought was the final class and were driving to meet the other agents for a meal maybe a drink or two. Scully had leaned over and started nibbling his ear. She had whispered a naughty suggestion or three. Then she had reached under her skirt and shimmied those lacey blue panties down those lovely legs of hers and stuffed them in his pocket.

Mulder had pulled into the parking lot with the beginnings of an erection. He was wondering how in the hell he was going to make it through the next hours - knowing Scully was naked under her skirt. He was afraid those panties and the musky smell they carried would be his undoing, he'd pulled them out of his pocket and put them in the console for safekeeping.

Mulder grabbed them out of the console "Your place or mine Scully?" He asked as he shoved the panties back into his pocket. Scully flashes him a sly smile and reaches over to walk her fingertips across his chest, "Mulder do you know I've had a fantasy of what it would feel like… to, to take all of my clothes off and recline on black leather? Do you know any place I could fulfill that fantasy?"

Mulder made it back to his apartment in 20 minutes. Skinner presented them with their completion certificate the following day - they were the only partners to succeed. Everyone else failed.

[chuckling-chemist]

12th Perigee Extra 1: Don’t Think Twice

((This is a of an homage of the #TumblrLogOff protest. Served well with the new KH III song Don’t Think Twice. Kept short and sweet.))

3 a.m. All was still in the temporary hivestem. Mayola finally managed to strip down into a sleek pair of warm sleepwear, perfect for lounging for another solid hour before even thinking about getting any sort of sleep. Unlike Valeba, who somehow managed to conk out on the couch without even making it into the actual respiteblock of the suite. But for Mayola, between the time zone shifts, the odd hours of the dance (they still had hours left in the night, yet brunch was coming at 11 a.m. for those who wanted it? What kind of schedule was that) and the general mood of the whole festivities succeeded in making it impossible for her. Not that such was bad, but any sort of value judgement didn’t change a racing blood pusher.

Ideally, she needed to sleep. That’s what the recuperacoon is for: calm a troll in any emotional state and force them to rest. Were Icasui here, that’s what she’d tell her to do, at least.

Her pink palm husk buzzed loudly on the table, blaring out the lyrics to Cherry Bomb. Valeba jerked awake, grabbing around uselessly for anything on the couch. Mayola snatched it up in one quick swoop, hurriedly approving the call and putting the thing up to her ear before Valeba did something stupid. Like stab her palm husk for waking her up. That would be bad.

“Mayola?” a frantic voice over the phone asked. “Mayola are you there? Pleasssse tell me you’re --”

Pallia? What the hell was Pallia of all trolls doing calling her? Did Aisral need something? “God, yeah. Yeah. I’m here.” Mayola shook her head. “The hell’s going on? Why d’ya sound upset?”

“Is Dontoc sssafe? He hasn’t anssswered his phone in hoursss and I’m getting worried”

Oh. That was all she was worried about. No big deal. “Are you just worried ‘bout him again? Cause like, Valley’s got it handled. She put a --”

“No Mayola. You don’t….fuck.” There was a pause on the line, followed by Pallia swallowing thickly. “Turn on the TV.”

She looked over at Valeba, curled up tightly on the couch and, hopefully, asleep. “Uh...I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“No Mayola you need to see thisssss. Put the newsssss on. Now.”

The sudden authority in Pallia’s tone threw Mayola through a loop. “But Val--”

“Valeba needs to, too.”

Mayola groaned. She sauntered over to the couch, pushing Valeba’s legs out of the way just enough so she wasn’t sitting on them. Not that it mattered. Valeba pushed herself groggily into a sitting position. “The hell’s going on?” she rasped.

Mayola turned the TV on with a helpless shrug. No point keeping it quiet now. “Just Shorty. I’m placating a fucking…oh.”

As the television screen flickered to life, she saw exactly what Pallia was talking about. Images of cities, some she recognized and some she didn’t, in literal chaos. Lowbloods with obscured faces with molotov cocktails marching through the streets. Midbloods evacuating from a burning officeblock, some perfectly safely through the door, others jumped out of top windows, shattering glass just to end it before it collapsed on them. Lusii rampaging through city streets, bulldozing everything and everyone in their path. Drones cutting down anyone who got close to them. Blues and greens of the upper castes painting the streets as frequently as the browns, yellows and reds of the bottom. No matter which city, the same carnage.

Distantly, she recognized the reporter’s voice speaking over top, but registered no words. Hell, the titles of cities that flashed over and over again looked like symbols on a screen until one of them looked distinctly like a symbol set of the city not far from them. And here they were, sitting ducks in a hivestem ignoring the whole fucking thing. How pathetic.

Mayola gripped her phone with a clammy hand. She dared not look over at Valeba.

“Is...how’s--”

“Sandyhorn’s fine,” Pallia said quietly. “We turned on the newss before going to ssssleep. I just saw one of those cities, ssstumbled upon the name and…”

The looming silence between them only broken by muffled, choked tears from the other end told Mayola everything she needed to know. Who knew how long she’s been freaking out.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Perfectly safe. Just some cancelled plans it’s soundin’ like.”

“Sssssorry.”

“Ain’t your fault. But yeah, let Ace know the two of us are fine and if this somehow hits our shores, we sure as hell ain’t goin’ down without a fight. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Can do.”

“And get some fuckin’ sleep. Please.”

“Mmhm.” Mayola heard something shuffle around on the other side as she added, “But ssseriously, if you see Dontoc can you...can you text me? He hasn’t answered me in hoursss and if it weren’t for all of thissss, I probably wouldn’t be conssssserned but I am he’ssss not like you and Valeba and--”

“Right, yeah. I get it. Val and I got this. You go sleep.”

Pallia hung up the call without another word. Mayola’s gaze flickered back up to the screen. It cut away from the violence back to the reporters, a couple of unfazed bluebloods who spoke coldly about the whole topic, how callous these trolls are for putting undue stress on Alternia so close to the holidays.

“So this is how it feels being a highblood, huh.”

She jerked her head over to Valeba. The brownblood’s gaze was affixed to the screen, unfocused. At some point, she must’ve readjusted herself into a sitting position, knees tucked underneath her chin. “Getting to sit comfy in your ivory tower while the world falls apart around you.”

Mayola grimaced. She wanted to rebut, but what could she say? That it wasn’t true? That Valeba was overreacting? Everything would be okay, because they would be safe, she could trust the man running it was hemoloyal enough, no one would want to touch him? With a sigh, she said, “Yeah. That’s about how it works. Everything goes to shit around you while you’re in the only sunny spot and there ain’t nothing you can do about it. I doubt they’ll touch here though. Her Imperious Sunshine ain’t one to fuck around with galas that sing her praises.”

“We’ve fought them before,” she pointed out. “I get we can’t do it now cause it’ll look bad. I do. Teals talk and all that shit. But we already weren’t going home until after 12th Perigee. This city’s so close it’d be easy, and the both of know riots like this last until the damn city is decimated. That shit takes weeks. And no one else here’s gonna give a shit.”

She wasn’t wrong. Mayola fought drones for target practice. Valeba’s aim with a bow was the result of sweeps upon sweeps of honing it into deadly precision and aim. The two together, as she’s found out more than once, were lethal together. So long as the chaos stayed mostly under control, they might be able to knock the drones off without word getting out off-planet of a seadweller assisting.

“You realize Eeks would tell me no, right?” The words sounded hollow in Mayola’s head. She might’ve said it sweeps ago, but now Mayola wasn’t so sure. She might end up saying that she’s upholding tyrian leadership and showcasing her power as possible Empress by standing up to the drones of the current one. More importantly, Mayola desperately wanted to slice and dice on in true 12th Perigee revelry and mayhem tradition. Combined with becoming a living, breathing incarnation of karma in at least one city toward a bunch of perfect targets for such and it all made it difficult to tell herself no.

“I’m not Icasui,” she said flatly. “They deserve justice.”

“You’ll worry your moirail.”

“Dontoc’s got bigger things to worry about than me right now.” Valeba’s gaze turned to her. Even in the darkness of the room, Mayola felt the angry, determined gaze burn holes into her soul. “You fucking know you want to stick it to those goddamn jackass, no good, hemoloyal fuckers. And what better way to do it than jumping out of that stupid, mile high tower and into the fray that’ll dirty their claws?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She’d never meet another troll who could speak to her like Valeba. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

The screen flipped back to the city. Mayola caught blood castes of all kinds fighting back. Bluebloods and yellowbloods pushing back in tandem. Olives and jades and rusts and teals taking advantage of their strengths for a common goal. All together, as if this were Sandyhorn and not a zone of high Empress control, cooperating. All except one caste.

Mayola couldn’t see a single seadweller among the dissenters.

She placed a hand on Valeba’s knee, grinning silently. Now wasn’t the time for words. She didn’t need them. Valeba understood. There would be hell to pay, and the regular trolls weren’t the ones in debt.

[sorenmarie87]

An unexpected vacation in Vegas

Summary - A convention gets in the way of the girls working on their next project.  Las Vegas - here come Renny and Moira.    

Renny and Moira face claims 

Warnings - Smut - fingering. Oral (female receiving).  Teasing.  

A/N - Any mistakes in this are my own  <3

Word Count - 1,764

OC Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer @docharleythegeekqueen @mirajanefairytailmage

A few months after her initial conversation with her wife about quitting her boring office job, Moira had given her two week notice and she was free.  There was a lot of planning to do but it would be worth it in the long run.

Crowley Entertainment was up and running.  Travis was immediately on board when Moira first called.  He wanted to help out in anyway he could.  Travis was responsible for actor recruitment - male and female, of course, finding and renting a space where they could film, and the girls were on the lookout for new employees.

Things were going well.  It had taken a couple of years to get established and build up a new fanbase, but Moira and Renny had finally done it.

--

“Renny, my love,  how do you deal with your hair being this long?”  Moira had just gotten out of the shower and was close to taking a pair of scissors and chopping it all off.  She had spent years with short hair.  When Renny told her to let grow out, she smiled and tackled her wife onto the bed.  It was that day she realized Renny had a hair kink.  

“Do you want me to brush it for you?” The two of them chuckled as Moira took a seat in front of the vanity and handed her the hair brush.  “I've always dealt with long hair, so it's easier for me.  Besides if my mom - may she rest in peace - ever found out I chopped my hair off, she'd come back and haunt me.”

“Are you serious?”  Moira raised an eyebrow and Renny nodded.  

“I never understood it but yes hair was really important to her.”

Moira pursed her lips then hissed in pain as Renny jerked on her hair.  “Sorry baby.”

“It’s fine.  I talked to Travis about our next production.”  

“Really? What's this one going to be about?”

“Newly wedded couple on their honeymoon.”

“Please tell me it's a location shoot.  Please.  Better yet - tell me who gets to be the leads.”

“I do love hearing you beg, my love.”  Renny gently tugged on Moira's hair and she chuckled.  “Okay, I'm sorry.  Yes it's a location shoot - somewhere tropical, the destination hasn't been picked yet.  Travis was going to give one of the new girls the opportunity but our anniversary is coming up...”

Renny took the opportunity to steal a kiss from Moira when she turned her head around, but she pulled away before things get too heated.  She continued to run the brush through Moira's hair with a smile plastered on her face.    

--

“We have a problem.”  Travis folded his arms and stood in the doorway as both Renny and Moira turned to look at him.  “We have to push back our shoot.  There’s a convention in Las Vegas that wants the two of you there.”

“How is that a problem?”

“It throws off our filming schedule.  I know you said you didn’t want to take a break but I’m demanding it.  The two of you have been working hard so I want you guys to go.”  

“To work the convention?”  

“They want you there one day at least.  You know do a meet and greet, autographs, that sort of thing.  Take a week off, see the sights, have anniversary sex in as many places as possible but please don’t tell me about it.”

“Oh why not Travis, we could come up with some pretty good ideas that way.”  Moira winked at Travis as he groaned.  

“There’s a reason it’s called a private life.  I really don’t need to know what the two of you are like in the bedroom.”

“Travis, buddy, you film it almost everytime we do something.”  Renny wrapped one arm around Travis’s shoulder and he chuckled.  

“This isn’t normal.”

“We aren’t normal, I mean really.  Look at what we do for a living.”

“Good point.  So ladies - you leave on Thursday.  Everything is already paid for - we all pitched in and got you first class seats.  You’ll be staying at -”  He pauses to look down at the email again.   “the Excalibur Hotel, so that should be fun.”  

“We have to go see the Mob Museum.”  Renny at this point is practically jumping up and down.  “Wait!  Freed’s Bakery is in Las Vegas right?”

“Yes Renny, that’s why the show is called Vegas Cakes.”

“We have to visitttttt.”

“Okay, okay calm down.  Thanks a lot Travis.”  

“Anytime Moira.”  Travis ran a hand through his brown hair with a sigh.  “Any recommendations on who can take your place on this shoot?”

“Ohhh I know~ what about you and Gwen?”  Renny smirked as Travis blushed.  “I know you do solo videos from time to time but word around the office is she wants to bang you like a drum.”

“Jesus Renny, leave the poor boy alone.”  Moira shook her head and glanced over at Travis who was in thought.  

“Want us to talk to Gwen about it?”  

“Nah, I got it.”  Travis quickly bounced back and smiled.  “Have a lovely vacation ladies.”  

“Call Avalon and see if she can stand in for you!”  Travis walked out of the office with a quick wave.  

--  

The plane ride to Las Vegas went as smooth as possible and Renny was grateful.  She hated flying, and she was trying so hard to ignore Moira's jokes about joining the mile high club.  “Behave yourself, please.”

“Fine.”  Moira huffed and crossed her arms.  

“Just wait until we get to the hotel okay.”

“You promise?”  Renny smiled and kissed her wife's cheek.  “this vacation is going to start off with a bang.”  

Renny had turned her phone back on as soon as they were inside the airport.  The two of them picked up their luggage, and they were only stopped a couple of times by fans.  Moira chuckled and Renny looked at her with a smile on her face.  She double checked that they were going towards the right exit.

“I wanna go back inside where it's cooler.”  Moira whined as soon as they stepped outside.  She fanned herself as they walked and Renny sighed.  It probably didn't help that Moira was wearing her hair down either.  

“Want me to braid your hair while we wait for the shuttle to our hotel?”  

“Oh my god, please.”  Renny chuckled as she fished a hair tie from her carry on.  She had just put the hair tie in when the bus pulled up.  

“We could always find a hair salon and get your hair chopped off again.”

Moira kissed her cheek and rested her head on Renny's shoulder.  “It can wait until we get home.  I can deal with it for a few more days.”  

--

After waiting for what felt like ever, they were finally checked in and on their way up to their room.  Renny smirked to herself when she realized there was no one in the elevator with them.  She was lucky that Moira was wearing a skirt, so when she started moving her hand up her leg, Moira looked at her with a grin.  Renny winked as her hand disappeared under Moira’s skirt and she hummed in approval when she realize Moira wasn’t wearing underwear.  “Renny, what the - “  Moira stopped talking when Renny traced her fingers around her mound before inserting one finger in.  She gently moved it in and out before inserting another finger.  

“Just let me do this, okay?” She whispered into Moira’s ear as Renny’s thumb started rubbing gentle circles around her clit.  To not make noise, Moira leaned into Renny’s side and started sucking gently on her neck and leaving little love bites on Renny’s pale skin as she moved down and sucked harshly on her collar bone.  Moira slid her hand under Renny’s shirt and started groping her breast as Renny picked up her pace.  Renny curled her fingers in a come here motion as she brushed against that sweet spot and she felt Moira clench around her fingers.  She cried out and slumped over onto Renny.  

“Fuck babe, warn a girl next time.”  Renny felt Moira kiss her neck as she removed her fingers and moved Moira’s skirt back to its original position.  The elevator dinged as they reached their floor and all Moira could think about was how she was going to get Renny back.  

--

Moira's eyes opened as she felt around the nightstand for her phone.  She clicked the power button and jerked away from the light.  “6:30 A.M.” Moira sighed as got out from bed to go use the bathroom. After a few minutes, Moira came back out refreshed.  She chuckled as Renny moved around on the king sized bed and snagged her pillow in a hug.  Quickly, she snapped a photo before making it back over to the bed.  

She noticed a quiet moan coming from Renny as she approached her side of the bed.  Moira bit back a laugh as she noticed her wife was rutting against the pillow.  "Never thought I'd be jealous of a pillow, but here I am."  

Renny had kicked the covers off of her and Moira sucked in a breath.  The gears on her head started turning as Renny rolled on to her back.  Moira crawled onto bed and nudged Renny's legs apart.  She placed gentle kisses up Renny's leg, and nipped the inside of her thigh with a giggle.  She watched as Renny's chest moved up and down, reassuring Moira that she was still asleep.  

Renny's eyes fluttered open as she felt herself clench.  “Moira what the- “  She met Moira's gaze as she watched her pump her fingers in and out, and with last lick, Renny came.

“Morning babe.”  

“Was-” Renny took a breath as Moira laid her head on Renny's chest.   “Was that for the elevator?”

“Yes.”

“I need to tease you more often if this is the result.”  Moira nipped the side of her breast and Renny chuckled.  “Or maybe not, next time I might not walk away unscathed.”  

“So what do you want to do today?”

“You.”

“After that?”

“Still you.”

“Renny, we have to eat and do touristy shit.  Otherwise, Travis will murder us.”

Renny huffed a sigh as she got up and pulled Moira with her.  “Let's take a shower, get breakfast and then we'll figure out what to do.”  

“I promise, I'm yours later tonight.  Anything you want to do, we'll do it.”

“Oh babe, you mean it?”

“Yes?”

“We might need to google a sex shop for what I want to do.”  She squeezed Moira’s ass before smacking it.  “This ass is mine.”

[headinheavensolesinhell]

Pregnancy (Ray Toro x Reader)

Can I please request a Ray fic where you tell him you’re pregnant and the story goes through all your weeks and stuff including when you find out the baby is a girl (if that makes sense) and then you give birth?

Holy shit this was long. And then Tumblr ate some of it. But my brain remembered some of it, thank god. 

Warnings: Swearing, most likely inaccurately described childbirth.

Also, I didn’t want the baby to have the same name as any of you, so Y/B/N means your baby’s name. 

Y/F/N: Your Friends Name.

You sat in your house waiting for your husband, Ray, to get home. You got the blood test results back from the doctor and they confirmed you were pregnant. Now, you needed to tell Ray. After about five minutes of sitting on the couch staring at the wall, Ray’s keys jingled in the door. You jumped up and turned to face the door as he walked in, guitar case in hand. “Hey, babe! How’d it go at the studio?” 

“Good, we’re almost done, actually. How was your day?” He smiled, wrapped his arms around you, and then kissing your forehead.

“Great, amazing actually!” You replied automatically.

He released his grip on you and looked down at you. “Really? What happened?”

“Well…” You said as walked over to the couch, keeping him in suspense. He followed you, motioning with his hands for you to keep speaking. “What would you say if I told you I was pregnant?” 

The biggest smile you’d ever seen spread across his face. “Are you seriously pregnant Y/N!?” You nodded and he engulfed you in another tight hug before pulling away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, wondering why he yanked himself away from you.

“I don’t want to hurt the baby by squeezing you too hard,” He replied.

You giggled. “You won’t babe, I promise. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents, Ray!” 

“I know!” He pecked your lips before asking, “How long have you known?”

“Um, about a week and a half.” You told him, hoping he wouldn’t be mad that you kept this from him.

He looked slightly discouraged. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, sometimes the home tests aren’t right so I had to go to the doctor. I just got the results from the doctor today.” You held his hand, looking into his eyes as you told him.

“Oh. Ok.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Have you told anyone else?”

“My mom. Do you think we could wait a little while before we tell people? Just kind of, I don’t know, enjoy it?” Ray nodded, understanding where you were coming from. “After we tell people, then the fans will find out, and then it’ll be a little stressful.” 

He placed another soft kiss on your forehead. “Of course, love. But I’m going to go call my family.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You yawned.

He laughed, he thought you were adorable when you yawned. “Baby, you’re tired. They’ll understand, and you can talk to them tomorrow.” You nodded, feeling your eyelids getting a little heavy. 

2 Months

It’s been two weeks since you told Ray, and you were sort of showing. You could really only notice it when you stood in front of the mirror without a shirt. You were about eight weeks along, and you and Ray decided it was time. Time to tell your friends, and the MCRmy. 

You, Ray, Gerard, Lindsey, Frank, Jamia, and Mikey were sitting at yours and Ray’s house at the table. “Y/N, are you sure you don’t want a beer or some wine, or something?” Frank asked.

“No, I can’t.” You replied and everyone at the table did a double take, except Ray, of course. But after a moment, Lindsey and Jamia had a knowing look in their eyes.

Gerard put his fork down and looked at you and Ray. “What? Why?”

“Well, Ray and I are going to have a baby!” You replied enthusiastically. 

Gerard turned in his seat to hug Ray, “Congratulations, man!” Then Gee got up to hug you, “And holy shit! I’m going to be an uncle, Y/N! Well, an honorary uncle.” 

Lindsey and Jamia, who sat across from you, smiled. “Your first baby! Congratulations!” Lindsey said.

Jamia spoke next. “Frankie and I will babysit some, won’t we Frank?” Frank nodded, slightly reluctant.

Then Mikey, who was next to you, hugged you. “I’ll babysit too, but only if you let me buy this kid a lot of unicorns.”

“Deal.” You laughed.

Next up was Frank, who hugged Ray and you. “Can’t believe you knocked up one of my best friends, Toro. Am I going to have to beat him up, Y/N?” He asked with a thick Jersey accent and a poker face.

“You beat him up, I beat you up, Iero. Got it?” you replied with a New Jersey accent, trying to keep a straight face.

Frank’s poker face broke first and he giggled. “That was your accent?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” You replied.

4 Months

The day after you told your friends, you told the fans. And of course, ¾ were supportive and happy and then there was that 1/3 that didn’t like you or anything to do with you. They told you that you didn’t deserve Ray and shit like that, but Ray always assured you that he loved you.

You had a doctors appointment today, the ultrasound where you find out the gender of the baby. “Ray! We’re gonna be late!” You yelled to your husband. He rushed down the stairs and the two of you went to get in the car.

“You excited, babe?” Ray asked as you pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.

You nodded. “Of course! Nervous, but I’m always nervous when I go to the doctor.

He smiled at you and pulled into a parking space close to the doors (like that’s ever possible). “Don’t be nervous, I’m here. I think it’s going to be a boy. What do you think?” 

You opened your door and got out of the car. “I have a feeling that we’re having a baby girl.”

“You’re probably right.” He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked up the few steps. “You’re always right.”

You laughed. “You’re a smart man, Ray Toro.” You approached the front desk, signed in, then waited for them to call your name.

About 15 minutes later a woman called, “Y/N Toro?” You stood up, Ray following, and followed the woman to a room. “The doctor will be here in a moment.” 

You nodded, getting up on the bed like you do at every appointment. And a few minutes later, Dr. Graham walked into the room. “Are you ready, Y/N! This is an exciting appointment!” 

“Yes! We’re excited.” You replied as she got the ultrasound jelly and got ready to put it on your growing stomach. 

She started moving the wand(?) around your stomach. You and Ray watched the screen, seeing your baby. “Baby Toro seems to be….” She looked for a moment longer. “A baby girl!” 

You and Ray were home now, getting ready to call your friends. “Frank is Jamia there?…Well, put me on speaker then…. Yeah, it went well. Gee owes you ten bucks, the baby’s a girl!” You told your best friend, Frank Iero and his wife. 

Ray was sitting across from you, on the phone with Gerard, Mikey, and Lindsey “Gee, you owe Frank ten dollars.” And you could hear a loud ‘damn it! But congrats!’ from Gerard on the other end of the phone.

6 Months

You and Ray were almost done setting up the baby’s room, except for a few toys. It was beautiful.

Or (pick one or none it’s not like I’ll know)

You were probably going to have quite a few more things after today though because your friends had decided to throw you a baby shower. You were driving to your friend, Y/F/N’s, house with Ray to see what all they had set up.

You pulled up to their house and was greeted by a few of your other friends. (A/N - Wow this is vague.) Once inside, you talked to some people, ate a few things, and then Ray told you it was time to open presents. “Ok, guys! Y/N is going to open presents now!” Y/F/N called and people began gathering around your seat. 

The first few gifts were clothes, and the next few toys, and the next few small furniture items. You started to feel bad because you didn’t need the furniture. You and Ray never planned on a baby shower, so you bought everything yourself. “Thank you so much, guys!” You said, looking at the gifts and your friends. “You’re gonna make me cry!” There was a chorus of ‘aw’s’ and everyone started to help clean up.

-

You and Ray were in the car driving home, a trunk full of gifts. “Ray, did those chairs have receipts? Because she doesn’t need two of each.”

“I’m not sure babe. If not, we can donate it or something.” He replied.

You nodded. “Yeah, forget about the receipts. We’ll donate them.” You smiled over at your husband, and then put your hand over your stomach. The baby was kicking, which wasn’t unusual. “Ray, it’s starting to become more and more real.”

He nodded, reaching a hand over to put on your stomach. “Every time we buy something for her, or feel her move, it just brings us one step closer to starting a family.” You were happy, driving in silence with your amazing husband, and unborn, but still amazing, daughter.

8.5 Months 

Approximately two more weeks. Two more weeks until you and Ray are parents. It was currently 1 a.m. and you were still awake, sleep was very scarce this late in the pregnancy. “Y/N? Are you still awake?” You heard Ray’s deep, sleep filled voice say next to you.

“Yeah, I’m kind of uncomfortable. Like, my back is hurting pretty bad.” You replied.

He sat up and wrapped his arm around you and you laid your head on his shoulder. Then pain washed over your body. You doubled over as best you could with your baby bump. “Ray, I these are contractions.” You said through gritted teeth. 

“Um, ok, should I, um, call the doctor?” He asked one hand frantically searching for his phone, the other hand being squeezed by you. 

You nodded, “Yeah….I think it’s over. Maybe I should call? Since like I’m the pregnant one and stuff?” Ray nodded, handing you the ringing phone. “Um, yes this is Y/N Toro….I’m having contractions…….Wait until they’re closer together? But if my water breaks we should come?…….Ok. Thank you.” You hung up.

“So we have to wait?” Ray asked.

You nodded, rubbing your hand over your stomach. “Until their 7 minutes apart (Ignore the things I get wrong, it’s summer and research is just ew.) but she says if my water breaks we should head to the hospital.”

“Did she give you any, like, pain relief tips?” 

“Um, she said that walking could progress them but that’s about it.” You told him. “I think I’m going to go to the kitchen and get some water.” 

You started to climb out of bed, and Ray followed suit. “I’m coming too.”

You were about 2 feet away from the kitchen when your water broke. “Well, that made a mess.” Was all you could say in your state of shock.

“Ok, love, let’s go have a baby!” Ray said helping you to the door, picking up the pre-packed bags on the way out.

You were sitting in a hospital gown, in a hospital bed, waiting for your midwife to come back. Last time she checked, ten minutes ago, you were 6 centimeters dilated, which means 4 more to go. Another contraction. “Ray! God this hurts so bad.” You told him, holding his hand. 

“I know babe, but you can do this! You’ve put up with me for 5 years, and you’ve put with the little shit that is Frank Iero for 7. That takes a lot of strength.”

You laughed a little as the contraction ended, and the nurse came back in. “Ok, Y/N, I’m going to check your cervix again.” You just nodded.

“Wow, you are progressing quickly. 8 centimeters. If you keep progressing like this it’ll probably be about 15 minutes before you start pushing, ok?”

“Ok. Thank you!” She nodded and then went to look at one of your charts. “15 minutes, Ray. 15.” You whispered. 

He kissed the hand he was holding. “I know babe, 15-ish minutes until we get to hold Y/B/N.”

After fifteen minutes of contractions and nervousness, the nurse came back. “Same thing as always, Y/N.” She told you. “9 centimeters. I’m going to go get the doctor, by the time we get back you should be ready to have a baby!” 

After she left the small room, you turned to Ray. “I’m scared. What if I can’t do this? What if I’m not a good mom?”

“Hey,” Ray whispered. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to do great, Y/B/N is going to do great, and you’ll be the best mom ever. Ok?”

“Ok.” You answered.

Then the door opened and three people walked in. “Who’s ready to have a baby?” The doctor asked, sitting down in front of you. “You’re ready, Y/N. Now when this next contraction starts and I count to three, I want you to push, alright?”

The next contraction washed over you about thirty seconds later, “One, two, three.” And you pushed, hard. “Ok, great, one more time.” Another push. “One more, Y/N. The last one for this contraction.” Another big push. “Great! Next contraction, same thing.”

Next contraction hit. You squeezed Ray’s hand and followed the doctor’s instructions, “Keep pushing, Y/N! Even when this contraction is over. We’re getting closer!” The fact that the baby was getting closer gave a burst of energy and you pushed again. “I can see the head, faintly, but I can. Keep going until you’re really tired.”

“You’re doing so amazing babe,” Ray told you.

You pushed again. “Not. Helping. Toro.” You said through gritted teeth. 

“Two more!” 

One push.

Another push.

A baby crying. “Oh my god, Y/N, she’s beautiful.” Ray gasped. 

“Mr. Toro? Would you like to cut the cord?” One of the nurses asked, and Ray went over to her eager to see his baby. Not long after, a small bundle of blankets was brought to you. “Do you guys have a name picked out?”

“Y/B/N.” You said softly, more to the sweet baby in your arms than to the nurse.

“We made this, Y/N. Can you believe that?” Ray asked, brushing his hand across her head. “She’s stunning, just like you.”

Later the next day, everyone came to the hospital, to see the newest member of the Toro family and the newest member of the MCRmy.

this was rushed, and it was a whole lot better but then Tumblr deleted some of it. ALSO I SAW SPIDERMAN AND IT WAS AWESOME.

[ahumanfemale]

Get to Know Me Tag

RULES: you must answer this 92 statements and tag 20 people.

Tagged by @me-ladie

20 people?  20?!?!  Y’all, I don’t even know 20 people.

Tagging @larkin21 @booyahkendell @barisilub

And whoever feels like it.  

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Coffee 2. Phone call: One of my patients. 3. Text Message: “He’s ready.”   4. Song you listened to: “Praying” by Kesha.   5. Time you cried: “I don’t know, it’s been a while,” she said, lip trembling. 6. Dated someone twice: Yeah, no. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Obviously. 8. Been cheated on: Not that I know of. 9. Lost someone special: Yes. 10. Been depressed: Yes. 11. Gotten drunk and throwing up:  Lord.  Yes.  It’s still a source of embarrassment for me.

LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS:

12. Gray 13. Black 14. White

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: I have! 16. Fallen out of love: Nope. 17. Laughed until you cried: God, yes.   18. Found out someone was talking about you: Nope. 19. Met someone who changed you: Very much so. 20. Found out who your friends are: I mostly already knew? 21. Kissed someone on your facebooklist: Yes.  Multiple times.

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: All of them. 23. Do you have any pets: We have two massive pitties (Ulla and Cricket) and two shithead cats (Boo and Schroedinger). 24. Do you want to change your name: Meh.  I’ve made peace with it. 25. What did you do for your last birthday: I honestly don’t remember.  There’s a chance I did nothing. 26. What time did you wake up?:  4:49 a.m. 27: What were you doing at midnight last night: Sleeping. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Vacation in three weeks! 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: I don’t even remember.  I think September. 30. Hello!:  ‘Sup? 31. What are you listening to right now: The fan and the sound of my husband’s YouTube video on a flashlight or some shit. 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Quite a few of them. 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: A patient who keeps standing me up. 34. Most visited website: Tumblr, AO3, or Google Docs. 35-37. Rich and living on a yacht! ... neither? 38: Hair color: Black 39. Long or short hair: Medium-short.  Considering growing it out again. 40. Do you have a crush on someone: IRL?  My unlucky spouse.   41. What do you like about yourself: I’m fucking hilarious. 42. Piercings: Three in each ear and a nose ring. 43. Blood type: A+ 44. Nickname: Lyssa, Licita 45. Relationship status: Married 46. Zodiac: Leo 47. Pronouns: She/Her 48. Favorite TV show: SVU, Game of Thrones, Supernatural, Doctor Who, Bob’s Burgers, Orange is the New Black 49. Tattoos: Eleven.  50. Right or left-handed: Right 51. Surgery: Had my gallbladder removed in December. 52. Piercing: Well, yeah. 53. Sport: Soccer. 54. Vacation: Three weeks!

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Had a cinnamon roll earlier. 58. Drinking: Coffee, still. 59. I’m about to: Go get my ass some more coffee and go to a meeting. 61. Waiting for: A package tomorrow? 62. Want: To stay home and write and still get paid for it. 63. Get married: Too late! 64. Career: I'm a speech-language pathologist.

WHICH IS BETTER:

65. Hug or kisses: Kisses 66. Lips or eyes: Lips 67. Shorter or taller: Tall men, tall women.  I just like tall, I guess. 68. Older or younger: Older for men.  Doesn’t seem to matter for women. 69. ?????? 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Arms all the way.  That’s good shit. 72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship.   73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Depends on the situation, really.

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: Yup. 75. Drank hard liquor: Yes. 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: Yes. 77. Turned someone down: Yeah. 78. Sex on the first date: Nope. 79. Broken someone’s heart: Not that I know of. 80. Had your heart broken: Sort of?  We weren’t actually together at the time but it was a big ol’ deal 81. Been arrested: Nope. 82. Cried when someone died: Obviously. 83. Fallen for a friend: Yes.  I seem to only fall for friends.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: Professionally?  You better believe it.  Personally?  Eh... 85. Miracles: No. 86. Love at first sight: No. 87. Santa Claus: NO. 88. Kiss on the first date: Oh yeah. 89. Angels: No.

OTHER:

90. Current best friend’s name: My BFF has been Jessy for about a decade now. 91. Eye colour: Green 92. Favorite movie: For artistic value?  The Hours.  To watch over and over again?  Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.

[starsinursa]

Shout-out to @saminzat for tagging me! Like I needed an excuse to waste time. ;)

LAST

1) Drink:  Coffee... it’s like 10 p.m. at night, but I’m trying to stay awake to finish some work from the office (and yet I’m on tumblr doing this quiz instead, oops).

2) Phone call: A coworker called me so I’d have her new phone number.

3) Text message:  “FYI, they don’t give you the money right back, you have to wait 4 - 6  WEEKS for a check in the mail, uggggh”. I bailed the same coworker out of jail about three months ago and went to the city municipal court today to get the bail money back... turns out things aren’t that simple.

4) Song listened to:  Umm...so I’ve been listening to the Moana soundtrack pretty much non-stop for the last week. :D

5) Time you cried:  A couple of weeks ago, reading the fic “Cursed or Not” for the first time (hey, you get to chapter 18 and try not to ugly cry, okay?).

HAVE YOU EVER

6) Dated somebody twice:  Yep. Good ol’ high school.

7) Been cheated on:  Not that I know of.

8) Kissed someone and regretted it:  Yep. Good ol’ college.

9) Lost someone special:  Yes, a couple of times.

10) Been depressed:  Yep, special shout-out to my Prozac and Wellbutrin, love you guys. ;)

11) Gotten drunk and puked:  Yes, a few times, unfortunately. Again, good ol’ college (although I can’t use that excuse for the last time because I had already graduated... to whomever had to clean out that train car up in Minneapolis, MN, about 2.5 years ago: I am so, so sorry, I’ve learned my lesson about taking it easy on the Everclear, you have every right to hate me).

THREE FAVOURITE COLOURS

12) Green

13) Purple

14) Blue

IN THE LAST YEAR YOU HAVE YOU

15) Made new friends:  Kind of? Do work friends count? 

16) Fallen out of love:  Nah, gotta be in love for that

17) Laughed until you cried:  Yes, most recently was while watching “Impractical Jokers” with my aunt (they took a guy who is terrified of cats and made him teach an improv “how to bond with your cat” class, okay, I found it hilarious as a cat-owner).

18) Found out someone was gossiping about you:  Yeah, there’s a lot of gossip about everyone at my second job. Look, I’m sorry I go through all the water bottles, okay? I drink a lot of water...

19) Met someone who changed your life:  Not anyone specific in the last year that I can think of...

20) Found out who your true friends are: Meh. I’ve always kinda known.

21) Kissed someone on your Facebook list:  Nah

HOW MANY/MUCH

22) Facebook friends:  256

23) Pets:  Two! One dog, one cat, the best of both worlds.

24) Want to change your name:  Nah, I like my name.

WHAT

25) Did I get for my birthday:  Books, I always ask for books.

26) Time I woke up:  Around 8:30 a.m. this morning

27) Were you doing at midnight: Probably surfing tumblr, tbh, I am sadly predictable

28) Can’t you wait for: MY VACATION THIS NEXT WEEK

29) Was the last time you saw your mom:  A couple of weeks ago when I went home for a dentist appointment

30) Is something you wish you could change about your life:  I need to buckle down and really focus on paying off a couple of bills. It helps having a second job, but I’m just so impatient.

31) Are you listening to right now:  Nothing at the mo

32) Gets on your nerves:  Whiners. Don’t get me wrong, I love to bitch and complain as much as the next person, but people who blame the world/ everyone else for their problems? Just....yeah.

33) Talked to a person named Tom:  ...this question doesn’t make any sense. “What - talked to a person named Tom”? Also, no, I know several Tims, but no Toms.

34) Is your most visited website:  Pffft, tumblr, of course, is that even a real question

35) Elementary school/primary school:  [Name of my hometown] Elementary School

36) High School:  [Name of my hometown] Jr./ Sr. High School

37) College:  I’ve already mentioned in a couple of posts where I went to college, so I guess I’ll just say it: Kansas State University. EMAW!

38) Hair colour:  Dark brown

39) Long/short hair:  Long! It’s currently the longest it’s ever been in my entire life, I’m so excited (although holy shit, I shed a lot).

40) Crush:  Nah, not for a while. I creeped on a cute security guard a few months ago, but he turned out to be a jerk with a classic “crazy ex-girlfriend” (I put that part in quotation marks because I have no idea if she’s actually ‘crazy’ but he kept insisting she was...which is, just, y’know, a red flag on his part).

41) Do you like about yourself:  I’m actually pretty fond of my hair now, after a lifelong love/hate relationship. I also like to think I’m okay at singing sometimes.

42) Piercings: None at the moment, actually

43) Blood type: A+

44) Nickname: My family has always called me “Foo” (as in, “little bunny foo-foo”)

45) Relationship status:  Single, ayyyyy

46) Zodiac: Leo (pffft, but not really)

47) Pronouns: She/her

48) Favourite show: Supernatural (of course!), Psych, Once Upon a Time, Firefly, Scrubs, Nikita, Game of Thrones

49) Tattoos: None. I’m too fickle, I’d get one and then change my mind two weeks later.

50) Left or right handed: Right

FIRST

51) Surgery:  I had my tonsils out when I was 17 thanks to multiple bouts with strep throat. Oh my god, never wait until you’re that old to get your tonsils removed, it was absolute hell. 

52) Piercings: My ears. If we’re talking unusual piercings, I had a “nape piercing” for a while in high school.

53) Best friend:  Probably my cousin Kayla, since we grew up together

54) Sport:  I played softball for several years as a kid, until I got a bloody nose when the ball hit me in the face. Then I had to quit because I was gun-shy. To this day, I’m still afraid of balls flying at my face (hehehe).

55) Vacation:  I visited my dad in San Diego, CA for a week when I was ten years old

56) Pair of shoes:  First pair of shoes? I don’t know, I was a baby. Probably some over-priced cutesy pair that never even got any use because I was a baby.

RIGHT NOW

57) Eating: Spicy Doritos

58) Drinking:  Still drinking coffee

59) I am about to:  Sort through my tumblr “Saved Drafts” and add tags for everything, then try to get some writing done

60) Listening to:  Nothing at the mo (this is the same question at #31?)

61) Waiting for:  Saturday when I leave for vacation! *o*

62) Want to see: Honestly can’t think of anything. I’d like to watch Moana again but it’s not on DVD yet?

63) Want to get married:  Sure, someday

64) Career:  Human services/ social work-ish? Basically, I work at a non-profit agency helping adults with developmental/ intellectual disabilities to get/ maintain services. Oh, and I also have a part-time job at an adult store. Gotta make ends meet, y’know.

WHICH IS BETTER

65) Hugs/kisses:  Really depends on who they’re from. Probably hugs for the most part. :)

66) Lips/eyes: Aaagh, I don’t know... I love gorgeous eyes, but I also love me some tasty lips... y’know what, I’m gonna go with lips. Yep.

67) Taller/shorter:  Taller

68) Younger/older: Older

69) Romantic/spontaneous:  I can be romantic when I have someone to be romantic for, but I’m not the most spontaneous. :D Like, let’s just stick to the PLAN, okay?

70) Nice arms/nice stomach: Arms. I like squishy cuddly tummies anyways.

71) Sensitive/loud: ...I don’t know. Sensitive, I guess, because being around loud people wears me out pretty quickly. But sensitivity needs to have limits too...

72) Hookup/relationship:  Relationship. Been there, done the hook-up thing, not worth it. Good ol’ college.

73) Troublemaker/hesitant: At this point in my life, I’d say hesitant. Trouble-making was fun in the past, but, like, I’ve got an actual career now that I could lose if I go around trouble-making/ hanging out with trouble-makers.

HAVE YOU EVER

74) Kissed a stranger:  So, so many times. Good ol’ college.

75) Drank hard liquor:  Yep. Still love me some vodka. It just mixes with everything, y’know?

76) Lost glasses/contact lenses:  Contact lenses, yes, but luckily I’ve never lost a pair of glasses

77) Turned someone down:  Yes. I hate doing that. I’m a horrible, cowardly person who would rather “ghost” someone than have to deal with an uncomfortable confrontation. 

78) Canoodling on a first date:  Depends on the definition of “canoodling”. Are we talking cuddling or snuggling up during a movie? Sure. Making out? Maaaybe, depends. No copping a feel on the first date though, c’mon now.

79) Broken someone’s heart:  Yes. Breaking up with someone in high school is intense. 

80) Had your own heart broken:  Kind of, not really? The only person I legitimately had feelings for, I never told them how I felt, so they never really had the opportunity to break my heart but it hurt like hell anyways. Have I mentioned I’m a cowardly piece of shit? :D I mean, that was like 10 years ago in high school, but I haven’t changed that much.

81) Been arrested:  No, thank goodness. There were a couple of close calls during my partying days, I’ve definitely been luckier than I probably deserve.

82) Cried when someone died:  Yes. Doesn’t happen often, luckily.

83) Fallen for a friend: Not really? Had crushes on friends, had friends-with-benefits, yes, but never technically “fallen for” a friend.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

84) Yourself: Depends on what we’re talking about here. In general, yeah, I like to think I do okay...

85) Miracles:  Ehhh, I can’t decide. It’s a wonderful thought but I’m also kind of a pessimist realist. You know what they say: “hope for the best but prepare for the worst”.

86) Santa Clause:  Not for many, many years

87) Kisses on a first date: Sure! End-of-the-date kisses are sweet.

88) Angels:  I...think so. 

89) Love at first sight:  I don’t know? It’s a wonderful thought but I’m just not sure. Maybe not love at first sight, per se, but I think there are definitely people out there that you can just tell right away they’re going to be special to you.

OTHER

90) Best friend’s name: None, at the mo

91) Eye colour: Brown

92) Favourite movie:  That’s a tough one... I think it depends on my mood. Do I want to laugh? Something trashy like “Sorority Boys”. Do I want to cry? Probably something steeped in existential crisis like “A.I.”. Do I want a feel-good adventure with talking animals? “Homeward Bound”.

Holy crap, that took like 1.5 hours. Anyone need an excuse to waste some time/ procrastinate/ be distracted? Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast, @helianthus21, @destielmixtape, @beesandangelkisses, @emotionally-compromised-idiot, @castielsgracex, @apritelleorai, @honeybee-and-batman, @sunshine-hunters, @waaaaaayward-assbutt, @cool-fallen-angel , and anyone else who wants to do it. :)

[vernal-acrobat]

My Day So Far: Sept. 19th, 2017

Early a.m.  I am awoken from sleep to hear the characteristic sounds of alarms of war.  War upon America.  Ernest Choi had obviously developed a vulgar attitude and persona during his drinking and, (I assert), his secretive methamphetamine bouts.  It “came out,” last night, that he had stalked my parents via the internet, in order to provide them with an offer of methamphetamine procurement and elderly care services.  He makes trite offerings such as he had, in having me over, in which he purchased crystal meth.  Supposedly, Ernest had been in contact with my parents to procure them some crystal meth, and his part of the deal included leaving some crystal with me; although he engaged in bartering with me for some of it.  (This all happened unwittingly; I showed up to his place, after he messaged me to come over, on Facebook, earlier on, in the day.  This day, being the 17th, currently - although this writing was begun on the Sept. 19th).  There was a lot of talk of how he cuts the crystal meth, then he had his dealer cut the meth for him, now he harasses potential clients in order to cause them anxiety, so that they inevitably purchase meth.

Many lives are put on hold because of this sort of unholy intervention.  Ernest is particularly lacking in spirituality.

According to the narrative, as it had played out; Ernest was in communion with Kin Jong Pak? ... as to the intelligence breakdown of the America Ernest lives in.  Ernest feels at odds with his sexuality; he probably likely adores young petite ladies; Caucasian, as it were.  I make this observation (and subjective opinion, though unprofessional) as a result of his overbearing alter-persona, which sounds like Rick Ross yelling loudly and profanely.  

There was a party scene at some remote location.

Why Are White People So Contentious? - cont., Sept 19, 2017.

I was privy to the party interior, as a result of investigative reporting / eavesdropping.  My parents had become the bullied center of a group of young, old, neighboring, networking individuals.

then:

Just past 2:00 am.  I am here.  Olive at 7th.  7-11.

Purchased some food and drink, since I’m hungry, upon having been awoken by the war drumming of earlier.

“Bearded import southerners” (ostensibly), were at hand, as I awoke, inevitably (thank God).  One passed by with a “hey.”  The offhand assumption presented to me was a fight-or-flight mess, surely to feature bloodshed.

Wait! [in “right now;”] remember

... that ‘brother’ had invited me to set up / tear down, as crew / labor on Sept 22nd.

the dealers on Spring at 4th.

Security guards are there to protect private interests,

in this case, the guard that threw me out of the Wells Fargo ATM area is light-skinned / perhaps Hispanic.

Security guards, in general, I find, are commonly black.

An inference? The race of the security guards we see, perhaps, in local areas, contrast with the most prominent gang type in the area, in order to promote fair treatment in racial discriminatory concerns, among the population.

Semiotics of a 7-11 visit, post-2 a.m. Sept. 19th, 2017.  Tuesday, Olive at 7th.

... The point?

* Perhaps the opposite race minority is placed as security guard in cases where racial superiority in gang territory is asserted; i.e., by the presence of street dealers, cat callers, trannies, [  ] (follow up re: human trafficking), trite people; i.e. a black guy outside 7-11 jungling some change, in order to ask for a condom; no, he asked me if I have a condom for sale.  Trite, I found it.  Was he asking if I would like to suck his cock for drugs? 

There was some talk (inside my head) of the demands upon the blacks, for being a dominant community presence, in drug dealing, around DTLA: to solicit, to others, an offer of making available their ostensible carnal pleasure instincts to less-than-well-endowed “small fish” in the drug purchasing world.  

Detail - There is a white guy inside 7-11 who is skinny, looks like Sting (era, circa) who is hanging out, asking how much a gallon of milk is.

the momentarily momentous moment where the idea for a new Tumblr came up: (Originally: DTLAGoogleLocalGuide dot Tumblr). The guy at Hill St. on the same south side corner, except here; east side opposite, in addition to being one block away.  

He “hollers” at a big booty girl, asking if she can have that ready for him,

Maybe big booty girls just pad this asses and wear a sex toy underneath their skirt, in order to participate in the nightly festivities.

An Archetypal Business Entrepreneur could, perhaps, capitalize on this, based on a presumption that this is one of the knee-jerk jaunt-movement practices handed down from the 1960′s civil rights thing.

More... from “Wait!”...

Reality Check? [  ] - A lady, who sounded “Brittney” familiar (or actual) stated, around 1:20 am, that the bearded night-wandering out-of town guys were, in actuality, “just out looking for food.  For food!  That’s it!

OK! Reality “Me” - 

The first guy who walked up

Wait!  [  ] - 

The asserted “Sheriffs of DTLA” jog around the block scenario.  Trannies, come join us.  Wilmer Valderrama ( “can’t keep up, then we arrest you for stalking us!”)

An attractive (ostensibly) lady sheriff ( “as I hear it,” )

The actual source and significant intent of the engram? (Suggestion, statement, belief, call to action for the...

Wait!

Did the lady walking, by, again, really just ask for a “dollar of speed?”  Or was it “a dollar so I can get something to eat?

...

Am I being a significant contributor to depravity?  On account of drugs? 

 Whoa  -  whoa - whoa - back track...

...

... for the agents provocateur(s)?

OK!  Reality “Me!” cont., Sept 19th, 2017

cont: the first guy who walked up, and did so, and he found me standing up to greet him

meanwhile, I had been briefed on the runners of the area (by night) as having been particularly “made up of” sheriffs.  Sheriffs of DTLA, this isn’t WeHo, after all Sheriffs of DTLA hold it down for Skid Row.  They make sure that no race riot stuff happens.

side note: apparently, Darlene had become a sheriff, she was particularly groomed for this position, since University of California at Riverside “Days” of incoming class of 2000 freshman.

The ostensible takeaway of the running thing (as it is seen, from my perspective, in hindsight), is that they are a competitive, territorial, and communal people; the sheriffs.  The cost of me agreeing with a suggestion that I materially, with my physical and psychic self, engage in a belief of “rushing,” as it were, to draw, from gathered lore, about the Greek fraternal and sorority systems of living, as I had witnessed it.  (reiterant, [poot] [I just took a 2nd shit on my favorite sidewalk in all of Greater LA] [perdon] I know): rushing... for the sake of entering an implicit “bid” of my “life’s worth” for the cause of having a career with the DTLA Sheriffs, would be that I submit to becoming IRL transsexual. 

OK!  Reality “Me!” cont. 2, Sept 19th, 2017, circa 4:00 a.m.

IRL Transsexual... - given that I’m decidedly of a beautiful, handsome consideration about myself (ongoing contentious row; the “validity of my narcissism” in relation to the actuality of expectation of “go handle it yourself, or feed me some dope and jack off in front of me,” (in the case of female caseworkers), or “dope, just dope,” please... “there’s no way your case worker could possibly jaunt as staunch as you, Jay; Whoa.... there (in the case of my male caseworkers).  The ‘actual trans’ caseworkers’ disposition? Ostensibly?  There was that soooo indulgent dalliance du jour jaunt about “how valid” Jay’s heterosexual walkway - adjacent tryst, just post-DTLA Proud weekend “thing” amongst other things, such as the Los Angeles Times Food and Wine Festival: was, (to finger my butthole and “plop” suck smack it... “Pretty vintage, harvest gold, ultra - pasteurized, custard brulee.”  How that is Jay’s shitness, IRL?  Pero, like now?  Pretty two shits on my fav sidewalk, therebeing, just off hand, for the sake of a total train wreck, in writing.  But minerals - content, therein, assured?  Shitlessness post first dry wipe - mineral flush status, since last week, (I fought off salmonella, no ER), I got bums, AF jaunting some contentious row - ass shit coming at me, “priceless,” and I eat garbage (pronounced in the French, like “aged.”  “Ostensibly I clean the streets, ostensibly like I’m the Messiah.”

OK!  Reality “Me!” cont. 3, Sept 19th, 2017, circa 4:00 a.m.

The hippie dude at Pure Life Organics in Hollywood even contended about how coco parfait I come with a triple flusher...

Meanwhile, to get back on to the tabloid reality:

The homeless -est -ass jauntedest bum via Chinatown metro station to LA Recycling is apparently manufacturing true vintage couture “Incan style Barranca” roadway repavement, direct from the spot he never moves from, ostensibly, thanks to his asshole, and abject amounts of humic and fulvic minerals.

OK, the night before, perhaps people by California Endowment, where I didn’t sleep, except for,...

Oh, yeah,

The sheriff’s running thing, at Grand Park; quick and dirty: Scientology belief establishment: remote biometrics readings, re: established (actual physically,geographically within reasonable sensorimotor perceiving range, ~ 50 + people (here, joggers) gather to make someone momentarily “do something” ostensibly universally offensive (rush of blood to the head) such as to appear to be in “La La Land,” of all places, whilst otherwise normal, amidst... normal people, of all things...

Meanwhile...

Triple flusher, (2nd coming, stauncher than before),

OK!  Reality “Me!” cont. 4. Sept 19th, earliest traffic.  People are waking up, I made my first typo here, today.  Solomon Leyva’s mind appears to be present.

OK.

So, the important thing is, is that someone 

(we) - Solomon asserts,

(we) got it.  Skip the notes about conjecture as to how contentious popular support and shortness - of - breath in satellite public speaking via hearing aid (while reading, out loud, Dalliances Du Jour on a dirt walking track betwixt families, parents, kids, mothers, mothers’ mothers, etc.

OK

Takeaway.  I found myself short of breath upon attempting to jog, unfettered by load-bearing- weights parameter [on] and enough, assertedly, for the rest of the “standard” fare of people in the park - on the track, near me; (obviously), amplificated on the main yards perimeter around me, and finally “Jaunted, AF, beyond as the ostensible podium speaker of DTLA via Chinatown (perspectives - check) as far as the aural environment may have “actually been,” or, at least, “as was du jour, pour “gio flex” Vlassic pickle attainment butt-suckling crass aficionado (bait...)

OK

Takeaway, the third splosh of my shit will be post-rooster crowing; we’re not gonna all turn Catholic, all of a sudden, somehow (it’s obscure...)

I can wait.

Thank you - the late night Union Station, for paper towels.  I reuse.

Rolling Back the Transcripts: Sept 19th ~5:30 a.m.  Construction workers arrive on site.

Asspad aficionado status - Literally: shitless, stainless, stink - free, panty - sales now legal in CA on craigslist, (asifever...) - Status

Shitsicles on mute:  check.

[ wait. full stop *** I found this to be particularly stalking depraved, on transcribing to Tumblr. two above refrains. ]

We are the literal radioactive cleaners (and voices), at times, of the transmittable diseases of society, as the minerals (ionic) consumer

Fulvic minerals, though?

LA Recycle Bum

I heard that the bum of that street used to be my dad’s friend, and my dad told him he’d be a bum for life, until he meets my son,” my father said.

He did sustain radiation poisoning, though, on his face, and he is looking considerably less full-featured.

skin boring land-fish alligator parasites are prolific on the grasses close to the ostensible adjacent perimeter (shared perimeter of the circle of impending disease and decay of the grounds around him.  There is a public health crisis about and around him.

Opposition: He’s practicing his freedom of assembly.

[ full stop - soooo oppositional row, here, against public health and the parks system of the state ]

Then, a reverie:

Then, I have Simon Shin in my mind, and (possibly) recently spotted at Grand Park.  Some of my luggage was stolen, recently, first of all.  Second of all, he’s hiding out from me on Facebook.  Turns out, as of 12:10 pm, not true that he’s hiding out.

“I got married to you, in my mind!” says a voice.  Believably well enough, Simon, himself, on transmitted microphone (active)

“hey Jay”

“hey, Simon!”

but meanwhile, voices from the past preempt whatever intelligence (socially) I had commonly previously done unto others (less savory)

The Haunting Past:

“treat everyone equally” people

(satirically) “let’s be un-Christian, together”

Meanwhile - 

my back hurts.

ladies say 

“Jay, you need to stop this jaunting that you do.”

“People need to stop targeting people for robberies.”

Back to the Bearded White Guys

Lady that sounds like Brittney is associated / “as” associated

“They’re just looking for food.”

Used against her

How?  Via standard daytime bums’ behavior?

no, these, on the other hand, were camped-out, non-standard microcosm DTLA Grand Park locals

Defending bums for bums’ sake

as a dealer (used to help me out)

then, I receive the ugly side of things.

“Koreans’ deprive the unfortunate target du jour of crystal meth for a week, then they jaunt all around the target, pridefully (behind closed doors)

It’s ostensible

I’m not the only one who notices it.

“This guy” “I’ve been hanging out with” threw me out of his place, assuming that my most primal needs of the moment were the same as his (then / current) primal needs.  He, as a housed person.

“Whatever that means.”

Rolling Back the Transcripts: cont. 3, Sept. 19th, 2017.  Flowing Traffic, Bike Patrol.

[tidbit] pre-dawn hi-jinx

Someone in the street yelled, call 911!

30-45 minutes later, a police cruiser drove by with a flat tire.

meanwhile, back to my sleeping spot by the superior court, on grand.

“Nightcrawlers” have been imported, from somewhere, afar, to my “spot.” 

I have parasites and eggs on me now.  I’m at the clinic. 

They were not the characteristic people who sleep there

There were lots of parasites in the corner where I sleep, with a stuffed tissue placed there, as an obvious targeted discrimination / hate crime. I wear a similar type of tissue in between my butt cheeks, commonly, to help me stay clean down there.

I cleaned the leaves and debris of the area around my sleeping spot, on Sunday.

The friendly, pro-social locals are black, and me.

“Girls” are dictating this currently

Possibly terrorist threats by former peers, at the clinic.  Turned out to not be true.

Currently:  The Cruelty and Narcissistic Grandiosity of my Peers, of like, 20 Years Ago.

8:30 am - I come to Telecare to go to the clinic.  The clinic is closed, today.  Now I’m sitting and waiting for the members’ room to open at Telecare at 10.  Prior to this, but after Telecare opened at 8 a.m., there were litanies from the children of last - generations’ expats from small islands or some sort of violent demographic.  I would literally be a patient Christian man against their pre-workday jaunted - ass fuckboy “row” movement, to make me temporarily unconscious, so that they could do such “vintage” AF fare, such as taking my “top ink pens I’ve found, et al” list current (now former) fave, which disappeared last night before this current sleepful (partially) night, just “inexplicably,” whereas shitloads of poppers were audibly being heard let off, somewhere nearby (enough).  The paranoia of an isolated socially tragic David Yang.  Juliana Bonilla, who is a life-long “target” object of affection through David’s ostensible aficionado status of getting his kink off on celebrities (that was a sometimes super hot thing, I admit).  sic: Features of the master race, though?  “My brother, through his two children, produced this aesthetic even more effectively than my own Standard White Guy.  It’s ostensible.  He shuns his country’s orchard pride heritage for some shoddy cocky one-parent upbringing, egotistical assertion of old and stale jokes (coming from him).  Does he really do any vintage - ass

The Cruelty and Narcissism of my School-Days Peers: Sept 19th, 9:00 am, 2017.

- shit?  Do any of them?”

That concern is easily just discarded and forgotten as I think about how none of them went to church functions like Craig McGrath, and I (leaving women out of it (sigh).

Tragic personality faults.  Inexplicable, incomprehensible publication (self-publishing, to “friends-only” advertised network,

But they did the school newspaper, back in high school.  It’s obviously uncomfortably biased against “others” and they don’t appreciate valid communication.  Meanwhile, my shit is put at risk, by stalking nightprowlers.

The main point about the white prowlers is that the first guy walked around and just sat there, like something was gonna happen for him, at like, 1 a.m. 

* @ the corner 

The point?  My writing is right now inexplicably deprecating, in grammar.  They’re ostensibly hanging out, as a group; with individuals of lesser intelligence.

I tolerate this kind of thing for one day, or up to a year-and-a-half, for a pretty lady.  Prettier than Juliana, at least.  At least I can properly discern my former pretty lady’s personality traits.  My former pretty lady has a sociable attitude and a funny personality.  We leave each other alone, to a large degree.  Nearly asifever never.

The Cruelty and Narcissism of my Former Peers is Out-tabloiding Law Enforcement Jaunts.

No.  The night started off by me rubbing one out.  Quickly, in the grass; there were passersby, it was quick.  It was strongly suggested to me that I do so.  Then, I went to my usual spot and my caseworkers (some mix), current law enforcement - sheriffs, police, intelligence agency - assisted, (some mix), and my former peers, ostensibly jaunted all over me, like some small island nation people are aught to do, being children of expats, who emigrated to the US “because they were too nice” for that place, ostensibly.

What a shame, yet these adult children have no authority above them.  No learning behind them, apparently.

Yet, they want credit for contributing their presence and ego, multiplexed through my hand(s) at the pen, at the keyboard, and at the mobile device (hopefully by next week, again), and pretty much, besides that, complete social media blackout.  No nothing, no remnant of a person who existed.They are in long-winded, heretofore, yet now, jaunt AF quick reification thereof, for PR concerns (which I manage) (as an admittedly valid narcissist). This is the asserted offering of persona that I, Jay Ammon, might presumptively take on.

Wait!

The knife.  Ostensibly, mayhem accessories, I find them (off hand).

Jay is the guy who posted all kinds of raucous Instagram comments and hearts, one jaunted morning, mostly to no fanfare, save one comment: “wow.”

Normal Day, Now (Fashionably Bum Athleisurely Technical Institute Late...) 9:29 am.

It’s OK.   For me, I ate ice cream from Rite Aid (ostensibly icy thrifty (2 for $4).

A jaunted - ass - leisure breakfast

The not-OK thing, though, is the antisocial thing.  Go to the Scientology Celebrity Center and see what kind of literature they offer you.  They gave me 2 pamphlets; one on anti-social personality disorder.

i totally have Scientology Celebrity Center people (grade) people in my life, from my 10 - year tech thing I did, on craigslist.  I know som heavy metal dudes, from like Ozzy era, I know porn dudes (kinda just a bit, but kinda some classic shit, in there).  This ostensibly describes me, here, before this, and coming:  Some of everything.

This is ostensible Jay’s practiced AA speech contribution offering.  Jay did that.

Other dudes I just email, at total random, aberrant times (according to standard relevance), and the, I start publishing shit about cock fucks that used to tease me... still do, behind closed doors.

Ostensible threats to my survival are du jour as my gurgly belly, lately.  Stauncher than before... still shittin’.

Okay.  I’ve been writing by hand for about 7-8 hours.  I got an arm tap of affection from a stranger, gave a lady a sip of Rockstar, and I gracefully left the bench before the bike patrol told me to leave, as if I was emotionally and socially retarded.  Tons of voices in my head, throughout.  One more lady, wait... one more.

“I think that Jay and some others, not mentioned, are social.”

[rueur]

Morning Pages #39 (03.03.2017)

Friday 3rd March - 10:18 a.m.

So it’s been two days since I wrote, but at least I’m writing in the morning again. I’m going to the gym in a bit, after my breakfast has had time to settle in my stomach, and then I’m going to be on my way to Northcote for the weekend and also for most of next week. I’ll have a bit of work to do over the weekend but hopefully nothing major, because Evan and I have a bit of a big weekend planned. I’m trying not to think about it yet though, because I am seeing him TOMORROW and I am incredibly excited for that. But I also acknowledge that there are things I’ll need to do before that happens, like my university readings for next week and my tutorial responses for two subjects. I also need to write my pitch for my journalism class, and I think I’ll have to do something for advanced screenwriting too, I just don’t know yet? I don’t know, it takes some time to get back into the habit of studying every week and getting to grips with coursework is perhaps a skill that one never really masters. At any rate, it’ll be nice to be on my own at Emily’s for this weekend, that is when Evan won’t be over. He’s coming over on Saturday, and again on Sunday. He’ll be staying over on Sunday, which I’m looking forward to because I was at his house yesterday and was very tempted to stay the night. It didn’t help that he was asking me to, of course, but the matter was settled when I received a phone call from my mother who wanted me to come home. He then took me to the station and I managed to catch the second last train (the 11:58 p.m.) back to South Morang, and managed to get to the station at 12:20 a.m., and thathi picked me up from there and took me home. I texted Evan good night when I got home, and then stayed up till about 2 in the morning packing my bags to take to Northcote today. The thing is, I haven’t actually told ammi and thathi that I’ll be in Northcote this weekend, or at least I don’t think I’ve said it. Okay, I’m halfway through this first page and I think I might finish this after the gym, after I’ve unpacked at Northcote? Because I just realised that it’s 10:30 a.m., and I can assume I’ll be at the gym for maybe an hour or so, which means I’ll be on my way to Northcote around noon if I’m lucky, maybe 12:30 p.m., and then I’ll have the rest of the day to do some work. I also have to go and see Lauren today, but I don’t know how that’s going to work. Like do I feed the cats first or do I feed them when I get back from seeing Lauren? I’m supposed to go and see her at 3 p.m., but I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do that because I have a responsibility to the cats. I need to send her a message and sort this out. It might mean heading down to South Yarra earlier, like around 1 maybe so that I can be home around 7 or 8 and then feed the cats then. Yes, that sounds good. I’ll sort that out in a bit, I just need to get the rest of my plans in order.

I won’t need a printer for this weekend because I don’t have any major assignments until the end of this month, but I will need to print out some resumes before I head out so that I can hand them out over the weekend. I think maybe fifteen should be fine, though that might even be a bit too much. Still, it’s better to have more than to have less, such is the way of this capitalist system which we both inhabit and maintain. I’m getting really frustrated with capitalism, which tends to happen with every new semester. I think all arts students are hyper aware of the failings of the structure of our global economy because it affects them a lot more than people who have more useful degrees. Artists can only thrive in prosperous nations, nations that have money to waste on the arts. That’s why the evolution of Colombo, Sri Lanka has been such a big deal not just for Sri Lankan citizens, but also to the international Sri Lankan community. It’s just such a blessing even watching the re-prioritisation of modern culture and artists in Sri Lanka following the civil war. Evan’s dad, Brian, and I had a rather interesting conversation about the Sri Lankan civil war amongst other things to do with my background, which he was very interested in. Okay, I’m going to have to talk about this later if I want to stay ahead of time today. I’m going to go and get ready for the gym and have a really great session today, and then I’m going to head off. I’ll return to today’s pages in a couple of hours, I think, at which point I’ll write a little more about seeing Evan’s place and meeting his parents, and WATCHING HIM PLAY!

I’m so sorry. It’s actually Saturday now, the 4th. It’s 11:14 a.m. and I am totally to blame for this massive spillage into today. I have decided however, that I will finish yesterday’s pages as well as do today’s pages later on today, just because it’s the weekend and I have time to kill. I’m also getting really into ‘The Progress of Julius’, the book by Daphne du Maurier that I bought in Northcote. I just listened to the song ‘Heaven Must Have Sent You’ by The Elgins and the whole time I was thinking of Evan. Now my computer is playing ‘Heaven Knows’ by Absynthe Minded. Elsa just died in ‘The Progress of Julius’ and she died knowing full well that Julius could have saved her life, and that he never had any intention of sending her to Switzerland to recuperate from her tuberculosis, but instead left her to die in England in the back room of his booming business (his one true love being his capital). She died staring right at him, wordless in her weakness, but her eyes revealing her knowledge of his betrayal, his abandonment of her. There seems to be a trend here. The whole world seems to be talking about love right now, and I know that the world generally does tend to talk about love. Love is perhaps the most important thing that could ever be. It’s the only positive thing we humans have managed to hold onto that exists in the ‘animal’ world, the world which we’ve mostly attempted to distance ourselves from by constructing our own world and then by filling this new meagre world with a plethora of endless distractions, distractions that cross over into one another so that there may never be a time that exists with little distraction. With any hope, a modern human being can cruise through their entire life without ever having to think at all. The three months leading up to her death, Elsa was oblivious to her forthcoming doom, only aware she was dying in her last few moments of life. Julius held her desperate hands in his own and just stared down at her, watching the life leave her with such a cruel detachment, feeling perhaps no remorse at all for lying to her during her last days on this earth. But in a way, Elsa also allowed herself to be distracted. She didn’t think at all about the fact that she was suffering, that she was on her deathbed even. She was so caught up in the thought of travelling somewhere else, leaving all of the ill fortune she had experienced in London, and going on to Switzerland which in her mind was so romanticised that it was definitely symbolic enough to be a kind of heaven for her. In a way, her travelling to Switzerland would have been a death in its own, and she was looking forward to it for that reason. She wasn’t happy in her life, she wanted to leave it. She just didn’t want to die.

I saw Lauren yesterday and we spoke about this briefly, how people will spend their lives being unhappy just for the sake of achieving something in lieu of happiness, usually money. People will devote all their time and energy into securing financial stability, believing financial stability to be the modern elixir of life and thus, of lasting happiness. She told me about a girlfriend she once had who had organised her entire young adult path and her subsequent career path into attaining monetary success, furthering herself in an academic field she had no interest in and then devoting herself to an industry she had no passion for, just so she can reach some abstract level of prestige. Lauren would try and reason with this person, and very often also questioned their decisions. Lauren asks questions from everybody she meets, myself included. They can actually be very helpful, and they were for me yesterday too. But I’ll get to that in a second. Anyway, when Lauren began to question this person, they would shut that conversation down almost immediately. And after a while they just broke contact with her all together, because they didn’t want anybody challenging their mindset and their plans, because it had taken enough self-persuading and conditioning of themselves to follow these plans in the first place. They have essentially done everything in their power to repress their true selves in any way available to them. Oh, I should also mention that this person is gay but nobody knows about that side of them, and they have no intention of coming out of the closet any time soon and Lauren was also baffled about that too. It’s like this woman didn’t really like herself at all.

I don’t know I’m writing about all of this. It just feels like the thing to be doing right now. I’m kind of waiting for Evan right now, and I’m getting antsy. He’s supposed to be over any second and I have music playing and I’m typing at breakneck speed right now, sitting on the couch at Emily’s place and just kind of...distracting myself. Passing the time. I’m singing a lot. Right now I’m singing ‘Love Lockdown’ by Kanye, which is an unbelievably sexy song for me honestly. I think it’s because they played it in ‘skins’ when Panda lost her virginity to Cook despite the fact that she had spent the entire night crying and missing Thomas. That episode was so powerful, holy shit. The entire show is fantastic, honestly. So well-written, so raw, and sincere. They seriously covered all the bases, I mean young people in the United Kingdom must feel so supported because their media is just so inclusive and non-judgemental. It’s a little infuriating looking at our media in comparison to theirs. I mean the ABC is good, and SBS is also fairly well-organised to an extent, but there’s very little there that’s been written for young adults. It’s either for children or middle aged people. Or older people, even. Maybe this is what I should be focusing on, in my writing. I should be writing for young people. Honestly though, I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing for a while. My film for example, is easily relatable to young people regardless of whether they’re ethnic or not. It’s all about fitting in anyway, and young people are usually the people who struggle in that field, because they’re still young enough to be self-conscious and to think that what other people think of them matters. Lauren was telling me that she’s grown past that now, and at the age of 21 she no longer feels stifling levels of being self-conscious. She just allows herself to live. I would like to reach that someday. Lord knows I need it. I waste so much of my energy fretting. I’m fretting right now. I’m very much over it.