#just like damn. do other people not walk about Feeling Shitty every hour of every day?

[hyperspacial]

Shame is like a sister to me. She's a backpack that I carry everywhere. She's the white rice that comes with every takeout order. She's the hinge on my bathroom mirror that never fully closes.

[itsmeyaspider]

Yandere Kengan Ashura mens x female reader

Pov: The first time they saw you

Trigger Warning: Yandere behavior, stalking, jealous behavior, possession, obsession, smoking, cigarettes

Note: I know it's been a while since I wrote something, but I recently finished watching the Kengan Anime and I can't stop thinking about anything else, then my hot muscle men's!🤧😭✨️ ((I probably should mention that this was my first real attempt to write several headcanons, english is not my main language I really tried my best! I still hope you liked it<3))

Ohma:

Ohma doesn't think much of love and certainly not of love at first sight. He has far more important interests than dealing with such an idiotic thing like love, or at least he thought.

The first time he sees you was at one of his underground tournaments , you were sitting in the back row, waiting for a friend to bring some drinks and popcorn. At first he didn't think much of it, you were just an ordinary spectator who had come to watch one of his fight. But something in him wondered what a beautiful woman was doing at such a place. Of course there were other woman present but they eiter were CEOs or family members. So what the hell are you doing here?

He keeps catching himself staring at you, something about you has aroused him but he didn't understand what. Was it your beautiful (h/c) hair? Or were it the different gestures you made during the tournament? Something deep inside him wanted to see you closer, he wanted to talk to you and ask what you are doing here.

After the tournament was finally over he ignored everyone else around him, he had a new important mission and that was to find you. He walked in every hotel room and in every corridor just to find you. It took a while but he found you. Finally. You were sitting outside on the beach with your friend and it seems that you having a lot of fun together. Was this your boyfriend?!

Only now does he notice how his heart begins to race faster and faster, something he only knew from fighting. He immediately comes over to the two of you, as your (e/c) eyes look at him for a few seconds. You are a bit surprised what one of the fighters wants from you at such a lats hour, as you let out a small sigh.. "Can we help you? Oh and your fight was sooo cool!" A small smile spreads on your lips as you keep looking at the fighter.

That was the moment when Ohma fell in love for the first time in his life. Your voice, your eyes, everything about you made him want more of you. You were his new obsession and he would do anything to keep it that way. Even if it means to get rid of this asshole by your side. He was the better choice anyways.

"I don't like seeing you with that guy. You should stay by my side, forever. You are mine."

Raian:

Raian knew since his childhood days that one day he would be forced to marry someone. After all, the Kure Clan is known for strengthening their family through marriages. Even if he would rather devote himself to other, more fun things like murdering or fighting, he had no other choice but to obey his grandfather.

The first time he met you was outside at night. You were on your way home when a strange, drunk man accosted you. You usually ignore this kind of people, but today was a fucking shitty day. "Please leave me alone sir. I need to get my bus." You said with annoyance. The man weren't interested in your words, he came closer to you and as he was about to touch you, you finally had enough. You threw your (f/c) bag you had taken with you on the ground and kicked him in his face.

"Don't you dare to touch me ever again." you threaten him, the drunken man slowly falls to the ground. You roll your (e/c) eyes in annoyance as you pick up your bag and make your way back to the bus stop.

Suddenly you feel a warm breath behind you, as you slowly turn around you see a tall, muscular man. His wide sadistic smile and his damn black eyes who keep staring at you, made you really uncomfortable. The mens laughter didn't make the situation any better and something inside you knew immediately that you didn't stand a chance against him.

"Look what we have here~ A little bunny trying to act all mighty and strong. How cute." His voice sounds almost psychotic, something that makes your body tremble. How long has this men been behind you? Why didn't you notice him? And why the fuck is your body acting so damn scared? "Have you lost your tongue?~"

And from this moment on he laid eyes on you, Raian knew that he would marry you. Even if you didn't want to, what are you going to do about it? Try to fight him?

Even his grandfather couldn't do anything about it, once bis grandson got something into his head there was no turning back. At least the Kure Clan would get new descendants.

"You will be mine and mine alone understand?! You will obey me and give me many children little bunny."

Sen:

Sen is a womanizer, he loves woman very much but sometimes a little bit too much. He never really cared about commitment in a relationship. Most of the time he gets bored and breaks up with a woman, or he simply cheats on them. It's nothing personal, but that's how he is.

So when he met you for the first time he was in a small shopping mall, he didn't have much to do and because his day was filled with boredom he decided to go to the mall. He was just about to take a cigarette out of his pocket when he realized that he had lost his lighter. With a small sigh, he scratches his head as he looks around for someone who might have a lighter with them.

And then you caught his eye, you were standing in front of one of many entrances, lighting up a cigarette. You took a drag from the nicotine as you feel your body relax.

"Do you have a lighter for me?" You are thrown out of your daydreaming when you hear a soft male voice. You immediately reach into your pocket and hand the handsome man your lighter. With a smile, the men starts to light his cigarette too. "What is a beautiful woman like you doing here? Oh, how rude of me, my name is Sen." You're a little bit suprised that the men is talking to you, most people ask someone for a light, then they light their cigarette and disappear again. "Oh...I'm working here, I just have a small break. My name is (Y/n) it's a pleasure to meet you."

Sen is visible pleased that you are talking to him, his relaxed eyes never take their eyes off you and your (b/s) body. The two of you talk for a while, as you almost forget your work. "I need to go back to work, it was a pleasure to meet you." You say with a small smile on your face, putting out the cigarette. For a glimpse you thought you saw some anger in his eyes, but you shake off those thoughts as you head off to your work again.

He decides to make his way home, but all he could think off is you, something in him longed for you and your sweet voice. He wants to protect you...and maybe also kiss you. With a small sigh he turns back to the mall as he slowly starts to watch over you. He only wants to make sure that no one is trying to hurt you.

"Don't be afraid of me doll, I will make sure that nobody hurts you. Just come in my arms and I will show you how much you mean to me. You will be mine so don't be a douchbag and accept your faith."

Saw Paing:

Saw Paing had never thought much about love, his life consisted mainly of training and fighting, one day he would beat his rival Kaolan for sure! But he wasn't like Ohma who is certainly not interested in love, he just never had the right moment for it.

He was in the gym where he started his usual training routine, when he suddenly noticed you. You were doing a few push-ups as you failed miserably. Something in him had to giggle at your helpless sight, he immediately runs to you with a lot of charged energy. "SHALL I SHOW YOU HOW TO DO IT PROPERLY?"

The unexpected shout jolts you out of your thoughts as you fell on the floor. Your cheeks start to flush from the embarrassing moment you witness. Why can't you just sink into the ground? Unfortunately that wasn't an option, you try to pick yourself up as you notice that the men is holding out his hand to you. For a small moment you both stare at each other, but the silence was even weirder than your push up and so you gladly took his hand.

The man pulled you up with such a swig that you thought you would fall to the ground again. Saw Paing started to laugh again, as you still were embarrassed by the whole situation. "I AM SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU." He yells again. "It's alright, I just wasn't expecting this."

The man turned out to be Saw Paing, you two talked a bit and he actually helped you to do some proper push ups! However, it was getting late and you were desperate to get home before it went dark. The fighter offered to walk home with you, you smile as your (e/c) eyes start to sparkle. "Thank you, that would be really nice."

The two of you spent some more time together, and Saw Paing noticed how much fun it was to talk and train with you. He saw how your beautiful eyes sparkle when you talk with him. Something in him wanted to know if you also look at other men's like that.

He doesn't quite understand what's happening in him, but something inside him wanted to spend more time with you, even if you are a stranger to him! He didn't want you to lead a life without him and forget about him. He wanted to be there for you, to help you! Was that love? If so, then he would do anything to make sure that you were only his!

"Let us be together (Y/n)! I will help you with everything you need, just promise me that you only have eyes for me! You are mine."

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 8 - Catharsis

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 4,900

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, thoughts of death, heavy drinking, use of alcohol and sexual behavior as coping mechanisms. you know it's what you can expect from a blitzo-centered chapter. this happens right after the ozzie's chapter.

dividers by @cafekitsune | art (you’ll see) by @sweetadonisbutbetter <3

Blitzø is going to die alone. 

He’s going to die alone and no one will attend his funeral or even visit his grave other than to spit on it and his gravestone will read ‘Here Lies Blitzo Buckzo’ and nothing more because no one will be there to tell them to cross out the O and he most certainly won’t be a beloved anything. He'll just stay Blitzo Buckzo, forever.

And Blitzo Buckzo fucking sucks. 

Sometimes he wishes he was able to think before he spoke. He never does much of that and he’s aware he’d probably have refrained from hurting half the people he’s hurt if he could just keep his damn mouth shut. He didn’t think about this all that much… except for when he did. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Her voice rings in his head non-stop, like one of those annoying fucking church bells he’d come across once in the living world that ring every single hour, making it unable for its existence to be forgotten.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

It rings over and over again, stubborn, and it just won’t fucking go away.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Blitzø drives home on his own, but not in silence. He turns the radio on and the volume up until he figures it must be loud enough that he’ll have trouble hearing his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. The shit thing about thoughts is that they’re not something you can just turn off when you get sick of them. They follow you everywhere, all the time, inconvenient and impossible to get rid of. He proceeds to ignore the songs that come on in favor of mumbling incoherent things under his breath in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that he’s not bothered by everything that just happened.  Things like I can think about people’s fuckin’ feelings and think you’re so much better than me, well fuck you and rich fuckin’ asshole thinks he’s hot shit and probably suckin’ face right now. 

You know, things that prove he doesn’t care one bit. 

Whatever.

He parks the van without a care, still too busy mumbling to himself, leaving it askew, taking up almost half of the parking spot next to his own. The old lady from 22 is gonna be pissed at the inconvenience. Well fuck her too. He doesn’t spare another thought on that. 

He dreads the walk up the stairs to the apartment, wishing he lived somewhere with an elevator, or in a house, or in a super sick fancy mansion where he used money as toilet paper when he took a shit because he was just that rich. Actually, scratch that, that sounds uncomfortable. At least his shitty apartment with limited hot water and four flights of stairs before it had real toilet paper, and it was the nice kind even, he always made sure of it even if it was a little more expensive. 

His little luxuries start to sound stupid when he’s been spending so much time around Stolas and all his fancy stuff.

When he opens the door and enters the apartment, his first immediate thought is to knock on Loona’s door. He groans once as he walks towards it and then once again when he spots the note she left taped to it. ‘Tex invited me to a party. Don’t wait up.’ Yeah of course he fucking did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Does he? 

He does. He thinks he does, at least. Maybe not all the time, but why else would he have said those things to her other than to protect her feelings? It’s not his fault if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She needed to kill those feelings and if she wouldn’t then he would, fuck being the bad guy. In fact, fuck her too! He could so think about other people’s feelings.

He groans a third time at the thought of spending the night all alone, because he already knows what being alone makes out of him, and he doesn't like it one bit. If he could, he’d never be alone, not even for a single second, ever. Maybe that way he wouldn’t be so pathetic and so sad, because that’s what being alone made of him: pathetic and sad. 

It’s why Blitzø used to hate weekends. 

Satan, he fucking hated them. Why couldn’t every day be a work day? Why would they need a break? If it were up to him, there would be no such thing as a weekend. Because on weekends he had nothing to distract him from the ever-growing nothing in the pit of his chest and that wasn’t much fun at all.

Until Y/N accepted the job at I.M.P.

Before that, they used to speak almost exclusively through text, extremely inconsistently. He’s never really been the greatest at texting, but he could spam her with stupid memes and pictures of him doing random things throughout his day and horse doodles that she didn’t seem mad about receiving. They spent a whole year like that, only meeting in person a few times here and there.

When he offered her the job he promised himself not to have any expectations because, well shit, why would she trade in an obviously well-paying job, with her best friend as her boss, where she’d been working for years on end without having to hurt or kill anybody, for whatever it was he was asking her to do? 

But then she said yes.

It wasn’t long until he figured out they weren’t all that different from each other. Apparently, as much as she liked to complain about needing a break, just to annoy him, she dreaded weekends too. Not that she’d just admit that point-blank, but they did go out on on a Friday night after work and she did drink one too many and she sighed and complained about having to go home and it was all so much like him. ‘I don’t wanna be alone, Blitz,’ she’d told him. 

He didn't wanna be alone either.

And so he took her back home and he slept on her couch and he stayed there the next day, keeping her company and, honestly, enjoying hers. 

That’s how their tradition started. Almost every single weekend, the two will find themselves in either of their apartments, in the ugliest clothes they own, to cook or order something extremely greasy and unhealthy and marathon a shit-ton of movies, staying in on Saturday after going out somewhere on Friday. Loona would routinely call it ‘patheticville’ and ‘loser day’ and things like that. 

He doesn't hate weekends anymore. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

And now he’d fucking gone and done this. 

He still wanted to fight, then. To argue, to scream, to yell. He wanted them to do it too. To get down and dirty and scream back at him. He wanted a reason to react.

Blitzø has always been very good at reacting. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than you own?

But how was he supposed to react to that? The thought of grabbing his phone and texting her something along the lines of ‘fuck you and your pet bird too’ crosses his mind for a moment and, shit, maybe he is a prick, and he was gonna die alone wasn’t he? He was sure to if he kept doing this kind of thing. 

And maybe he fucking deserves it. 

Sometimes he wonders just how he’s going to die. Will it be peaceful? He hopes not. He sure as shit does not deserve peaceful. Maybe it could at least be cool. Maybe he could go down in a super badass shootout in the human world or a cool-as-fuck sword fight or something. Or maybe he’ll die in some dumbass way like tripping on the sidewalk and cracking his head open on the pavement. Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs. A stupid send-off for a stupid motherfucker. 

He throws himself on the couch instead and curls up into a ball, wishing he had a big royal-size bed with soft sheets and like three or four fluffy pillows, or even a simple twin-sized one, or at least that the couch was a pull-out. 

He grabs his phone and inevitably goes where he always goes when he feels like this- his ‘people I care about’ folder. He swipes through the various pictures. The ones of himself with I.M.P. in the living world, the one he made Moxxie pose with him for with them pointing their guns at each other, the one with Millie when she still had her long hair. The one from the day of Loona’s adoption, the one he took of Stolas sleeping next to him. The selfie with Verosika, the one he secretly took of Y/N watching the screen when he first showed ‘Spirit’ to her. 

And then he lands on the one. The one with Barbie and his mom. 

Blitzø is a 35 years old single father who kills people for a living. He’s been handling his own shit for almost two decades now. But in this moment… he just wants his mama.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

What would she have thought of that?

Yeah, he should have known it would be a ‘cry himself to sleep’ kind of night.

Blitzø doesn’t know for how long he’s been passed out when he wakes up disoriented. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and that probably explains why his body ached so much with how uncomfortable the position he’d slept in was. He wakes up with the barking sounds of Loona’s special ringtone and scrambles to pick it up. 

“Loonie baby? You alright? Did something happen to you, are you hurt?”

“No, Blitz. I just- can you just come pick me up?” She sounds like she’s been crying. Fuck, no, his baby needs him. No time to be sad.

He’s up in a second. “On my way. Send me the address.” He hangs up, searching for his car keys (which he found between the couch seats) and running down the stairs.

Loona went two rings down to Gluttony for this party. It makes sense, he supposes. He’s more of a Lust Ring party kind of guy himself, but he’s heard Gluttony parties got crazy. He accelerates as fast as the shitty van will let him and gets there pretty quickly, only to find her outside, still crying.

He rolls down the window before he even stops the car completely. “Hey, Loonie. How ya doin’, you alright?”

She wipes a tear with the back of her hand and enters the car with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna go.” She sounds anything but fine.

He’s about to ask her what happened when some fuckface he definitely doesn’t remember calls him by name. The wrong one. “Hey! That sounds like Blitzo!”

“The ‘O’ is silent, asshole!”

“Hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?”

“No, I’m just here picking up my daughter.”

The guy walks up to Loona’s window, and she hides her face from him with her hands, embarrassed. “Oh, shit, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” She yells out, and it stings a bit, regardless of being objectively true. 

“Oh, man, you’re already leaving? Things just got started! Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitzø groans, annoyed by the insistence. “No, no, thank you, but I think Loonie wants to head back now.” 

Some other weirdo approaches the van, leaning on the passenger’s window. “Huh, the hottie wants to leave?” Come on, right in front of him? 

He instinctively starts to growl. “Watch it.”

“I mean, we could stay a little longer,” Loona tells him.

He sighs. He’s not normally one to turn down a party, especially one with free booze, but he feels that’s probably what he should do.. “I think we need to go, ‘kay? I think it’s been a long night.”

“Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeeeaaase?” She gives him the goddamn puppy dog eyes and she knows he can already hardly resist fulfilling her requests.

Well, if she insists. He could definitely use a drink…

“Okay, fine. Maybe one drink.”

… Or a good old night of drinking to forget.

Blitzø downs two tequila shots before he’s even made it into the house. He downs four beers at rapid speed as soon as he does manage to get inside, crushing the cans and cheering loudly when he was done, and then suddenly he finds himself saying yes to a keg stand. It’s so easy he can do it in his sleep. Fuck being too old for this, he’d never be too old to have fun. And he can handle so much more than a keg stand. “Ha-ha! That was nothing, bitch! Give me a real challenge!”

Beelzebub herself appears in front of him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere (or maybe he’s just drunk), all cheers and neon colors and psychedelic paraphernalia floating around her, and she does challenge him. “Oh yeah? Wanna fucks with the big bitch, imp boy? I got a challenge for ya.” 

Someone somewhere murmurs “He’s gonna die.”

Now that sounds like a challenge he can get behind.

Vortex walks up to them, carrying two huge gallons of something and placing them on the floor between him and the Sin. “Aaaaight, let’s do this! From Bee’s personal supply, the hardest shit there is.” He crouches down to Blitzø’s height. “You ready, my man?” 

Fuck, this better fucking kill him alright. “Bring it, barky! I will drink you under this fucking table, you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had.” He struggles trying to pry the gallon open, and Bee uses her magic or whatever to make them levitate, extending a straw from it. Of course she’d flaunt her magical powers and her easy fucking life to him.

“Alright, shit-talker, but there hasn’t been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game, so you better bring the fire, baby!.” 

“Ohh, is Queen Bee too scawed to lose to a widdle imp like me?” He bets she is. And he bets she’ll be embarrassed when she loses to him (because she is going to lose). Fucking big names like her always are. 

“Oh, okay. Let’s get it on, you little bastard!”

Vortex signs for them to begin and it takes about two seconds for Blitzø to have downed about a fourth of it already, but why stop there? He pulls the straw out and pours the drink straight into his mouth, downing the entirety of it at light speed. He’s so quick Beelzebub even stops chugging her own, amused… Concerned? Noo, no way. Amused. 

He climbs on top of the huge gallon to be at face level with her and properly rub it on her face, high on the adrenaline of it all (and perhaps a little bit on the buzz from the extremely strong drink too). “Yeah, who’s the queen now?”

Loona cheers for him loudly, and it fills him with joy when she proudly yells out “yeah! That’s my dad!” Yeah. That’s damn right. 

Bee lets her own unfinished gallon fall down to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yeah, definitely impressed. “Well, fuck me. That’s a first. I haven’t had a first in a while. That was magical, seriously. Impressive. I tip my crown to you, imp boy. Respect.” Fuck her still calling him imp boy, but she’s actually admitting his victory and shes bowing to him, as she fucking should. 

She howls, every hellhound around following suit, and Blitzø feels on top of the world. 

Why does the world start spinning when you get yourself on top of it? 

He almost falls to the ground, but then he’s getting held up by a bunch of strangers like a cool-as-fuck goddamn rockstar and, shit, why had he stopped getting wasted and doing this kind of thing every night again?

He doesn’t exactly remember when people started doing body shots off of him but he does remember getting freaky with a few of them, which did very little to make him feel good and honestly felt a little gross with the amounts of drinks getting spilled all over and making things rather… sticky, but it was doing wonders to his thought problem. 

Who would have known having four strangers’ tongues inside of you at once could be a great way to muffle the unsolicited thoughts in his head?

The second those people fuck off somewhere else the thoughts come in again, though. Stolas hiding his face in shame behind the menu. Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? Y/n unable to look him in the eye. Are you worried someday I may have enough of it as well? Fizz is gonna hate him forever. You’re not my real dad! Verosika will always regret him. We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle? Y/n’s crying face, Stolas’ disappointed one. Oh, they both had such fuckable faces didn’t they? Which reminded him: he really wanted to fuck someone.

He’s making out with a guy whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he doesn’t even remember when Loona pulls him off of him. “Oh, piss on a dick! What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?”

“This guy,” he grins, pointing to the unnamed man, who now stands still behind him. Wasn’t it obvious?

“It looks like you’re in the middle of a goddamn orgy. Stop!” Oh shit. Loona saw all that? An orgy does sound like some real fucking fun right now. Wait, focus, Loona. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t expect you to come here and see any of this, Loonie, I’m so sorry, but it’s a party! I’m just having fun with uh… uh…” he turns back around to the man Loona pulled him off of. “The fuck is your name again?”

“Dennis.”

Ew. “Christ on a stick, you would be a Dennis. Get the fuck away from me! I’m not fucking a Dennis tonight. I need a Monica or an Alejandro here, stat.” He’s genuinely surprised that works when some hunky dude pulls him into his huuuge chest. Fuck yeah. “Better.”

Loona punches his Alejandro in the face, and he sincerely doesn’t give a fuck about it, because the world is spinning again, which is weird because this time he does not feel like he’s on top of it at all. In fact, it feels like the world is the meanest dom top ever and he’s a whiny, whiny bottom just sore all over from getting spanked ‘till his ass hurt. Not in a good way.

He falls back on Loona, and she catches him. “You don’t need anyone else sucking your face, freaky weirdo.” She throws him over her shoulder. “You need to drink something other than beelzejuice.”

She pulls him into the van, and she doesn’t rush to get home, because, according to her, she can see he’s already about to throw up. No he’s not, no sir! Ma’am. Loonie. 

Whatever. 

His mind clears a little as they make their way back home, and he pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Thankfully it’s still there.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass? That’s gonna make you dizzy.”

“Gotta… gotta draw a thing.”

“You gotta draw a thing?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, as if that was enough information for everything to be self-explanatory, even nodding his head yes for emphasis. He surprisingly manages to take his time and put real effort into doodling it, showing it to Loona before sending it.

“Does it look like I did it drunk?” He slurs, letting out an unintentional burp.

“It actually looks pretty good, Blitz.”

“Okay.” 

“So. Who’d you call stupid?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me dad again?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

He presses send and clicks on Stolas’ contact next, only to see there’s an unread message in their chat.

Stols:  I’m sorry if anything I said or did offended you tonight. 

Ha. Bet you really fucking are. 

Still, he’s not Stolas’ fucking boyfriend. What was there to expect from him? Why would he expect anything? 

Blitzy: ITZ WUTEVS

To Blitzø’s surprise, Stolas begins typing immediately, as if he’d been waiting obsessively for his reply.

Stols: Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie’s?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about? Blitzø wanted nothing more than to bury the memories of tonight the deepest under the ground he possibly could. But of course Stolas would want to talk about it.

He always wants to fucking talk about shit.

Blitzy: Y?

Stolas types for what feels like forever, and it must have been, seen that they’re now only one street from the apartment complex, before he sends in a huge-ass paragraph. 

Stols: I’m sorry! Nevermind, it’s not a big deal. I was just worried about you. You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. I’m sure things will be fine with Y/N, she likes you very much, I can see it. Maybe I read too much into everything, though. Not everything is about me, haha. I’m  glad that’s not the case. I wasn’t upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren’t and obviously you can handle a stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, and Y/N says she’ll talk to him about it, but I thought it was funny myself. What he said about me at least. I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over. 

Now that is too much to fucking deal with right now. Which means he won’t. 

Blitzy: SHUR.

He clicks out of Stolas’ chat, taking one last glance at Y/N’s before turning his phone off. She hasn’t seen what he sent yet, and that’s actually okay. 

Loona parks the van messily, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and letting the car occupy some space from the neighbour’s spot. He doesn’t even think before asking her to fix it.  “Sweetie, could you just park it a little more to the right?”

“Why?”

Yeah, Blitzø, why do you even care? “Well I don’t want that freaky cat lady to be up my ass about it tomorrow.” Yeah, that. Sure.

She doesn’t seem to find it in her to argue or even as much as groan, simply readjusting the car. She has to carry him over her shoulder again and all he wishes on the way up this time around is that he were a little more sober. She plops him down on the couch and he curls into himself once again while she grabs him a glass of water. 

Nothing to distract him from his thoughts now. 

“I had a really shitty day,” he tells her.

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you drank like five gallons of who-knows-what?”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“The person you called stupid?” 

He nods, hiding his face from her when the tears start coming in. “Fuck, Fizz was right. I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?” Blitzø feels whatever consciousness he’d gained back slipping away again by the second, this time from the need to sleep rather than the alcohol. At what point did he get so tired?

“Be where?” Loona asks, and he’s too out of it to respond properly, only mumbling half-coherent things like lonely and die alone over and over. “I’ll be there, dad," she tells him anyway, and covers him with a blanket, the softest one they own. “Now go the fuck to sleep,” she orders, and he does hear it, he just doesn’t have the strength to say anything in response as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, his last thoughts being that at least he can’t think about anything while asleep and that… 

He vomits all over the living room floor. 

“Oh, fuck, I did need to throw up.”

[. . .]

You feel stupid when it’s Fizzarolli who finds you crying in Ozzie’s waiting area. He skips his way to the room, humming along to some song you can’t quite make out, and he almost doesn’t see you on his way into the office. He hears you sniffling, though, and turns to face you. It takes him a couple seconds to process that it’s you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Um. You okay there?”

You look up at him, but it doesn’t feel like you can say anything yet. 

“I-” He motions behind him with his thumb. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna get Ozzie. Stay here, yeah?”

You don’t even know why exactly you’d asked Stolas to send you here when you were still mad at Ozzie. Or maybe not mad. Just… sad about everything that spiraled out of what he did. 

Then again, did you even have anywhere else to go? You could absolutely not make the night worse for Millie and Moxxie by showing up at their place, thinking of Blitzø made you sad and Stolas was not an option. You had Ozzie, though. And you know you always will, despite whatever stupid shit one of you might do. 

And it honestly beats going home to a big pile of nothing. 

Ozzie appears shortly, Fizz having done as promised and fetched him. Fizz doesn’t come back, though, letting you and Ozzie have a moment to talk on your own, which is nice of him.  

“Hey, pretty babe. Fizz said you were here.” He looks you up and down, worried. “Are you crying?”

“Why did you do that?” 

“What?”

“Why did you fucking sing about all that, why did you- it was so humiliating, Oz, fuck!”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It got out of control. I didn’t even know you would be here tonight. You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming either.”

“You wanna tell me what that means?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Alright. That’s okay. I am sorry, though. We took the joke too far and I realized too late that it wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t. So please don’t fucking do that again. It’s humiliating enough to… fuck... and everybody saw it, and- I…” You groan in frustration, struggling to get your words out. 

“No more about Stolas or any of you. Okay? Promise.” He sits down next to you on the fancy couch and he lets you lean on him. “Did something happen between you?”

You hesitate before speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I am stupid. Of course he’s ashamed to be seen with us.”

“Stolas?”

You nod. 

“Did he… tell you that?”

“Well he didn’t deny it.”

“Okay." He takes a deep breath, probably trying to think of how to handle the situation. "You’ll have time to think about all of this. Alright? Now you’re coming with me, you’re taking a bath and you’re sleeping over, and we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. There’s no need to hurt yourself more thinking about it right now.”

He stands up and turns to leave the room, but looks back when he doesn’t hear you do the same. You’re still sat sit still on the couch.

You look up at him. “Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You repeat yourself.

“What- of course not. Did somebody say that to you?”

You don’t reply. 

He purses his lips together, thinking. “Are they worth feeling stupid for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone through this before.”

“It’s different, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s worse. They’re not hurting you back this time around, they’re just hurting you.”

You decide he was right. You don't want to talk about this right now. “Can we please not talk about it?”

He hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Course, babe.” He grabs your hands and pulls you up. “Come on.”

All the crying makes you so tired you’re almost passed out the second you lie down on the soft, silky bedsheets of Ozzie's guest room bed. Taking a look through your texts before you let yourself fall asleep, you click on Stolas’ contact once you see a notification for an unread text. 

Stolas: I am truly sorry if I did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable with me tonight. It’s not your obligation to talk Asmodeus  out of doing anything and I did not feel embarrassed because of you or Blitz. If you need space from me I will understand, but I want you to know that is not how I feel. And, for the record, I don’t care what that Verosika person said about you. I hope you’re alright. 

It is way too late and you are way too tired to process or deal with all of that, and honestly? You still do feel stupid, and don’t want to further that feeling by replying to him immediately. That feels too pathetic- it feels like proving Blitzø right.

You’ll reply tomorrow.

You click on Blitzø’s contact next, which also had a notification signaling an unseen message, and you brace yourself for a 'fuck you’ text or something of the sorts. 

You can't keep yourself from smiling when you open the text, turning the phone off and just waiting for sleep come to you, and things feel a lot less shitty than just a second before.

Having friends is pretty fucking okay.

A/N: everybody say thank you Adonis for the cutest doodle ever and also wish them a happy birthday!! the adorable little doodle blitzo drew is theirs and they did it especially so i could put it in this chapter which is so nice of them and so fucking cool!!

[tactical-jellyfish]

The Mistakes That Have Been Made

Part 2.5 (bonus for the people. I think you guys need some good soup, from moi <3)

Warnings!: Angst, angst, and more angst. Reader will be MAD sad for most of this. Poorly-practiced, unhealthy polyamory. Reader will experience a LOT of gender and body dysphoria over the course of this (though I will do my best to keep it gender-neutral throughout, bear with me), but there WILL be comfort over that.

The team dynamics of the 141 have always been messy, ugly things, but this is ugly. You wouldn't wish it on anyone, really.

When you'd walked back to your own room, you'd heard Soap railing the daylights out of Gaz, cussing your name beneath his breath as the other sergeant groaned, high and throaty.

As awful as this feels, at least he's not doing that to you.

Johnny's always been a bit of a... rough bed partner, you know that, he's so eager to get into the heat of it that he never gives himself the time to warm up or cool down. Tends to be so enthusiastic that he doesn't offer much aftercare before he falls asleep, either.

Still, walking past Gaz's room brings back memories of that nasty, sick feeling that follows every intimate experience you've ever had.

It's the feeling that your body is somehow wrong, too tight in some parts and too loose in others, like the very existence of your form is a contradiction that just can't stand a second longer.

The way you hold your laptop shifts, pressing the metal into your chest to somehow remedy this ill. How? You're not sure. It doesn't work very well.

You try to shake it off as you open your door and sit on your bed, but the moans still breach your walls.

God, since when did Gaz sound like that? It feels like it's choking the air out of the room.

You put your best effort toward minding your own business, but you felt like you were losing your mind a half-hour into that endeavor, and instead thumped your fist on the wall, loud enough to send the message. Learning how to sign and trying to ignore... that was simply not a feasible task.

The moaning and creaking stops shortly after, and the sigh you heave is like no others, though you know damn well those two will definitely be pissy with you tomorrow.

Finally.

Plastic buzzing against the "wood" of your nightstand (shitty plywood painted white, as is standard issue) draws your focus away from that, if only for a second.

Heyhey! Do u wanna train together tmrw?? I think you'd do good if you took it easy w/me 😊 <33

The rubber and plastic of your case isn't all that comfortable in your hands, but you hold the magical little glass box in your hands anyway, peering down at the screen before chuckling to yourself.

Why should I?

Is your reply. It doesn't strike you that it might have been a bit on the nose, or that Gary might have read it differently, until the text bubble appears and disappears several times in a row, and you re-read it.

Oh no, you sound like an absolute asshole.

Sorry. I do want to, I just wanted to tease.

He's typing for another few seconds, before the bubble disappears one more time, and it starts to make you panic. More than you want to be panicking over him.

Don't be mad please, I'm sorry. I want to train with you.

How the mighty have fallen.

Look at you, desperately prostrating yourself before a rookie because you're absolutely moronic, praying that he'll offer you a reply. Whatever happened to four times the love?

Fuck. Don't think about that.

im not mad, ur fine just thought you might be a little grouchy from the meds or smth, wasnt sure if i should ask

You breathe a real sigh of relief at the returned messages, already more than tired by the day, but slightly soothed as you look down at the blue light of the screen, and send your last message of the day.

I'll see you at 0630. Goodnight.

A little red heart appears over your message, in the top left corner of the rounded bubble.

You plug in your phone and try to ignore how something in your chest squeezes at being deemed worthy of making plans more than two hours in advance.

It's a shockingly new thing, but goodness does it feel good, even if it brings on a sting of a more somber feeling.

Gaz and Soap sure as fuck didn't do this. Ghost either. You never expected Price to do that for you in the first place. Did they just... not think you were enough to make plans for? Was this pity?

You try to shake off the feeling as you bunch your blankets around your body, allowing your tired form to sink into the mattress and rest. The morning will clear your thoughts.

First | Previous | Next

[graciegoeskrazy]

If you’re living and you’re 17

Pairings: Matty Healy x Teen!Daughter!reader, George Daniel x Teen!Niece!reader

Warnings, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SELF HARM, lots of cursing lmao, yelling, so much fucking angst, mentions of losing friends, shitty fathers for a second, lil cliffhanger (?),

A/N: Requested by a super sweet anon! I ended up adding to the original idea so sorry if it’s not how u invisioned it but the creative juices kept flowing and my fingers just kept on typing. Seeing the 1975 in ONE WEEK! Thx for all the love!

You walked inside the tour bus and was greeted with an overwhelming fume of drugs and laughter. Adam was the first to acknowledge you. “Y/n, you want some food? I’m ordering Chinese.”

“No, Thank you. I’m good.” You said, on your way to your bunk.

“What’s up with y/n? She seems off.” Adam said.

“I don’t know. Teenage hormones I guess.” You heard your father say, laughing.

Just then, Ross came bursting through the doors with a huge grin on his face. “It’s official mates! A 3rd leg is completely booked. 40 cites, almost every continent, and we’re ending it in Madison Square Garden!” Everyone cheered and smiled. All except you.

“God!? For how long?” You asked. A look of panic on your face.

“About a year?” Your mouth dropped in shock. You just turned to your dad and whispered a simple, yet strong, “Fuck you.”

You stormed off into to bunk room. Your dad rolled his eyes and said, “I hate teenagers.” causing the others to laugh. He followed you into the other room.

“Hey! What is going on with you lately?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry I said anything. I’m happy for you.”

“Really? Because that didn’t look like fucking happiness over there!” He was fuming. “Stop fucking lying to me, ok? Now, tell me what the fuck has gotten into you.”

You dropped everything and put your hands over your eyes. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Your father's anger continued. “What? Doing what?”

You suddenly stood up facing your father and letting it all go. “THIS! This! Living this crazy life with you and putting on a smile like everything is fucking fine, but nothing feels fucking fine! However many times I try to talk to you, Tell you how I’m feeling, tell you that I’m having thoughts of ending my life every single God damn day, tell you how much I hate my life with you, it never works because you never listen!”

Matty’s face contorted into confusion, his anger mostly dropping. “What do you mean?”

“God, it’s like I’m talking to a brick wall all the time. Are you even listening? Have you ever thought about listening to what I have to say? Or how I’m feeling? No. Because you never care for anything other than yourself.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“I’m tired, Dad. I’m tired of spending every waking hour of my life in a tour bus, or hotel room, a plane, or any bed that isn’t my own. I’m tired of your bullshit and you getting drunk every night partying with 40,000 people. I’m tired of getting blamed for the stupid shit that you say or do. I used to think that this whole tour thing would be fine. I would enjoy online school and maintain my relationships - and I did. Until you came along and did something that scared them away! Now all my friends are weird 30-year-olds and I’m failing in every class I take but I don’t even get the chance to tell you that I’m struggling! I’m tired of seeing you all over social media skipping from woman to woman who eventually gets tired of your bull shit or then find out you have a daughter and run scared. I wish I could be like them and run from Matty Healy the first chance I get, but I can’t because I’m stuck here. In this fucking smelly tour bus, letting you live your dream while I watch my entire life fade away.”

To say the least, Matty felt awful. How could he have been this blind? Had he really not noticed at all how much his own daughter was suffering? He was at a loss for words, and yet still tried to find the right ones. “I’m sorry.” He said.

“Thanks, Dad.” You said, Walking away and into the main space.

Everybody that was in there before had left except for Jamie, Ross, and George. When you walked in you immediately went up to George.

“Can I spend the night at your place?”

He gave you a weak smile and put his hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, of course.” He said.

_ _ _

Nearing showtime, you avoided your dad. Instead of hanging is his dressing room or the green room, watching him do his prep or play music together like you used to, you were in George’s. You told him that you would be fine if he went into the green room to hang out, but he wanted to leave you alone for as little as possible. You were thankful for George and all he did throughout your life. Sure, he was technically your official unofficial godfather, (official because your father deemed him that the day you were born and unofficial because your father also doesn’t believe in God so you never went through with the baptism) but ever since you were young he has always been a second parent to you.

After the show, George drove you back to his hotel room as promised and told you to get ready for bed. At one point he heard a loud thump of some sort come from the bathroom. You knocked over the soap dispenser on accident and picked it up with no problem. When George came around to check in on you and see what had happened, he noticed your arm.

Red and littered with marks all over.

His first reaction was to run to you, grab you, tell you to never do that again, slightly scream at you, and then make sure you were okay, but he knew this needed to be handled differently. He went back to the bed and waited.

You came back just a few minutes later and to no surprise, your sweatshirt was back on. “Ready for bed?” He asked. You nodded in response. He pulled back the covers to let you get in and stood up. He planted a kiss on your forehead before continuing. “I’ll be back, I gotta make a call.”

“Uhhhh, You’re not gonna tuck me in?”

“I just did!”

“That was a bad tuck. Plus you're not gonna stay with me?”

“It’s a work call. It’ll be fast.”

“Dude, it’s midnight,. Nobody you talk to at work is gonna answer. Especially my dad if you’re trying to call him. He’s probably black out drunk already.”

He let out a slight laugh. “Okay fine.” He agreed.

He got in on the other side and pulled you close - your head leaning on his chest. After a few minutes of going back and forth, he finally gave in and played the movie you wanted to play instead of what he wanted. It backfired on you though because within 20 minutes, you passed out. He chuckled at your quite, delicate snores and pulled out his phone, dialing your dad.

He answered right away. “How is she?”

“Well, given the circumstances i’d say she’s good. Calmed down a lot. She sound asleep right next to me.”

“Ok. Ok, that’s good.”

After a brief pause, George continued. “Listen, Matty, I gotta tell you something…about y/n.”

“OK?”

He cleared his throat before speaking. “She was getting ready for bed, brushing her teeth and stuff and I came in to check on her.”

“OK?”

“She had her sweatshirt off. She was in a tanktop, and there were red marks all up and down her arms.”

Matty couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Do you mean that she-”

“She selfharmed, mate.”

Matty wanted to burst into instant tears. “Jesus Christ.” He said.

“I didn't bring it up. She didn't even notice I was standing there. I just figured that even though you shouldn’t be having that conversation alone with her, it wasn’t right for just her and I to have it.”

“Yeah. You’re right. What happened after?”

“Nothing, She came out with the sweatshirt back on, I tucked her into bed, sat next to her and she fell asleep watching a movie.”

“Ok,” he said hesitantly.

“Listen, I’ll keep my eye on her tomorrow before the flight we’ve got to have a conversation with her.

“Alright.” Your father said.

All the while, you were fast asleep.

PART 2

[confusedacenb]

Weird rant time but I just couldn't stop thinking about it.

So .. Ghosts (US) version there is a lot of hate on Sam's character some people because they find her too toxic in there perspective, some cause they just don't particularly vibe with the character and writing, and lastly misogyny (or at least hating on a female character for feminine qualities but to shorten it ya know).

But like idk maybe it's cause I've been on the outside of pretty toxic relationships that my siblings were in and one myself, Sam does not seem like this super evil toxic manipulative character that at least the hate I've seen of her seems to portray.

Like yeah lying to your partner is shitty but like they both have done it numerous times with each other. And like I get Jay not having privacy with the Ghosts or having to walk on eggshells because of said ghosts but like that's not necessarily Sam's fault? Like in the first seasons she was definitely slower to adapt and warn Jay when a ghost has interrupted their private conversation but it the later seasons she's quicker to inform him. Also like someone mentioned that Jay deals with constant psychological warfare from the ghosts which can get tiresome but only really seems to annoy him from what he's stated when they write on the bathroom mirror (Trevor) text his sister (Trevor again) and also not to mention the various other ghosts abilities besides that he doesn't really deal with the ghosts and he can have a break and peace from the ghosts as he does not have to see or hear them. For example literally every one episode in each season where Jay and Sam have alone time they have to either literally leave the house or bribe one of the other ghosts to get alone time. Season 1 literally the first two episodes where the Ghosts plan was to literally drive Sam insane until she acknowledged them. Which seems to be their go to plan whenever Sam tries to get any quiet time or personal work done, or business work done, or again anytime to herself.

Also I just want it known that there are things that I believe Sam went too far on (the DND episode, and the dream episode). The dream thing being the worst of the two and honestly can't defend her on that one it was fucked up. But the DnD one (firstly it would be boring if you and your partner were a hundred percent into the same stuff at the same level, being able to have differing opinions and perspectives should open way to conversation not keep shit gatekept if you don't love it the same way as another person) yeah she lied and said the ghosts didn't want to and the writers did great story telling by showing us all the way into the climax Jay's side and how lonely he is (giving the audience an inside into Jay's perspective of things which they do a lot of great work with Show versus Tell when it comes to Jay's perspective) then the whole thing with Isaac and Nigel happens and what does she do she turns to Jay gives him a good reason to bring D&D back out after admitting she hates it and furthermore what happens after they resolve the conflict she tells Jay to keep going and when he asks her if she's sure he admits that he too faked shit to do with her and that now it's basically fair (at least that what it seemed like that tried to joke).

Also again massive D&D nerd, um y'all understand how long D&D takes and they had what like 4/5 ghosts at the table and we'd assume that one of the ghost D&D sessions takes about 2-4 hours like damn I feel bad for girls throat (also, talking and acting as characters takes a lot of energy and add onto that of being expected by the ghost to give the correct information told)(as a dm voicing more than two characters is a nightmare as it's literally 30 mins. Of racking your brain and going 'okay so and so says this 'line') like shitty to lie but understandable from this perspective and they resolved it in a day and most importantly Sam apologized and her behavior notably changed (at least I don't remember her actively dismissing D&D anymore, she now more reacts with adoration at her husband getting passionate and has more understanding of his interests) I'm sorry but who the hell would willingly voice that many characters for that long just to be manipulative?

Sam almost (and I say almost) never makes the same mistake twice she takes accountability (even for shit that she really should not be taking accountability as seen in cases like Sass not wanting his tree cut down or when the puritan ghost poured blood down the wall (to which they all were afraid of the puritan ghost except for Jay at the end). At most I guess she could be labeled as whiny(?) but personally I always saw it as more so she takes every mistake she makes the same way which what I mean is that when she makes a mistake and it gets pointed out to her, she genuinely feels like the worst person (which makes sense considering her mom and the fact that her dad wasn't in her life) but she's not saying she's the worst to be manipulative or for people to feel bad for her, at least given from her actions and such she genuinely seems to see herself worse than others see her.

[arsenic-catnep]

Slipping Through My Fingers

Wincest, weecest, >1k, not explicit.

Also posted on my AO3

School bag in hand, he leaves home in the early morning, waving goodbye with an absent minded smile.

The door to the impala creaked as Sam popped open the door, ready to head into school. Dean watched as his brother ducked under the doorframe, he'd gotten so tall already. Sammy gave a half hearted wave and a “See you later, Dean.” before letting the door swing shut.

A breeze blew back into the car as the door clicked. The early autumn air chilled Dean to the bone despite the layers he was wearing. A knot in his stomach formed as he watched Sam disappear into the crowd of the other highschoolers.

Dean was happy to no longer have to attend school, he found it pedantic and useless. Sam seemed to like it though, and his grades certainly reflect that. The only thing that Dean didn't like about graduating was that he no longer had an eye on Sammy at all hours of the day.

Call it obsessive, or possessive, Dean would agree. He doesn't find shame in the fact that he wants to protect Sam. That's his baby brother, and Dean won't let a damn thing happen to him.

I watch him go, with a surge of that well known sadness, and I have to sit down for a while.

Dean finally looked down at the steering wheel once Sam was nowhere to be seen. A deep breath escaped his lips, a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. The knot in Dean's stomach grew tighter, and he needed to get out there.

Once he was finally on the road, Dean fished out the pack of cigarettes from the glove box. Sammy hated when he smoked, but right now he needs it. The smell should clear by the time Dean picks him up anyway.

Guilt still ate at him. For what? He didn't know. Dean would like to believe it was because he's smoking against Sammy's wishes, but he knew deeper down that it was much more than that.

The smoke burned his mouth and lit a fire in his chest. The tightness dissipated and by the time Dean made it back to the shitty motel, the cherry of the cigarette was burning the filter.

Dean stops himself from putting it out on the skin of his wrist.

The feeling that I'm losing him forever, while never really entering his world. I'm glad whenever I can share his laughter.

That sunny little boy.

The closer Sammy gets to 18, the more nervous Dean becomes. He knows that once Sam is a full fledged adult, that he'll pack and leave. Hell, he'd talked about it for years. Ever since he had that major growth spurt during the summer they spent at Bobby's. Sam was different. Sam was becoming a man.

Dean knows that Sam loves him. He knows that they're very different people and he knows that it's not personal. Yet he still feels guilty, like he'd run Sam off; made him mad in some way.

He was always mad nowadays. Dean remembered a time when he was his brother's whole world. That summer is burned into his soul, no creature on earth or in heaven nor hell could make him forget.

They'd spent half the summer in the watering hole just half a mile from Bobby's. The two would pack a cooler and walk down there early in the morning and just spend the day being kids. Acting how they were supposed to.

Little Sammy would insist they bring sunscreen and rattled off some sciencey blabber he'd read about in school. Something about UV rays and skin cancer.

A smile spread over Dean's lips as he remembered.

If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the sun warming his skin, smell the creek water and honeysuckle. Along with the sunscreen he so lovingly rubbed into Sam's skin.

Dean used to love helping Sammy apply sunscreen and aloe, his hands would linger on his brother's shoulders and the small of his back.

Now he wished he hadn't stuffed the cigarette into the ashtray. Dean deserved the burn for where his thoughts were heading.

Slipping through my fingers all the time. I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it.

Do I really know what's in his mind? Each time I think I'm close to knowing, he keeps on growing.

Memories are a funny thing. Tricky, and not always accurate to what really happened. Dean knows. He still likes his interpretation of that hot, humid summer night.

Sammy had turned 13 just a month prior and was already experiencing a massive growth spurt. He was still shorter than Dean, but his limbs were long. Awkward; It reminded Dean of a newborn fawn.

They'd forgotten sunscreen that day. Sammy got burned up something awful. He was being tough about it, but the way he flinched when putting his shirt back on made Dean's heart rabbit up.

He felt bad for enjoying how Sammy had to rely on him for a few days. How he had to have Dean help take his shirts on and off. Had to have him rub aloe on his scorched skin.

Sammy slept on his stomach for a week and Dean enjoyed laying next to him, ever so gently running his fingers along Sam's blisters. ‘My poor baby’ Dean had thought at the time.

He still thinks that way in all honesty.

[hollowtones]

What does the perfect sandwich mean to you

I think for a lot of people (& I might be wrong, & that's okay) the "perfect sandwich" is a very specific, defined thing, presumably with their favourite ingredients made the same way every time. It's concrete. It's an object. It's a solidified idea. And that's fine. This isn't me going "well I'M different and BETTER", it's just different.

I think my idea of a "perfect sandwich" doesn't have any specific categorization and isn't some set recipe. This is vague, but a perfect sandwich is... exactly what I need, exactly when I needed it. That can be a lot of things! That's the point.

Back when I was in college there were some really good sandwich shops nearby, where I could get a banh mi or a submarine & have something filling and relatively cheap that I could carry around with me in between classes, or something quick I could get in the evening if I was working late or getting home late. (There was another sandwich place that was a bit of a walk away that did killer roasted veggie sandwiches, with eggplants and peppers and stuff. I think that was my favourite sandwich, which is different from the perfect sandwich. Also they closed down & got replaced by a shitty bakery at some point. It's probably a fine bakery, I'm just bitter.)

Now imagine it's the middle of summer and it's really damn hot and humid and I'm at home and I'm exhausted. Fully turned into a ghoul from the weather. I don't want to go to the nearby bakeries, let alone take an hour-and-some-change commute to the city, because it's fuckin hot!!!!! You know what else we got in these months, though? Tomatoes, usually!! Good tomatoes. It takes no effort to put tomato on bread or toast with a bit of salt and pepper, maybe a bit of mayo or balsamic, maybe a bit of a hard cheese. I can do that basically asleep. It tastes really fucking good, too.

When I was visiting my partner recently, she made us these little sandwiches for a picnic lunch, on a day we visited some gardens. She baked the buns herself, and they had some mixed greens and deli mustard and some cheese in them. This sounds kind of unassuming when I put it like that. Maybe I'd think that too if it was something I just put together for myself any other day (tho a bit of good cheese and mustard IS really tasty, don't get me wrong). The combination of "my WIFE made this for us" and "it's a beautiful day outside with my partner and I'm very hungry" made it feel very special. I've literally been thinking about these sandwiches months later. I make it for myself sometimes and it's just not the same, haha.

A very short example: Sometimes a grilled cheese hits the spot, & sometimes the exact same grilled cheese feels too rich, too heavy.

I spent 3 hours thinking about this. Sorry if this isn't a terribly conclusive answer. Was very fun to think about, though.

[hobisstar]

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader IV

This will be short! But chapter V will be worth it I promise!

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This one will be simple as for the last part of the series will be more … horror ish?

Ever since the window incident, Jungkook has been feeling shitty to say the least.

He’s not enough for her and he knows that.

He hates to say it but he thinks it’s time to officially let her leave.

She was willing to brutally hurt herself to get away from him. She would rather die than love him.

Of course he’s doing this for her sake. He loves her too much to see her die or something worst than death.

While Yn was in the bathroom showering, Jungkook was packing her things. He already bought her a brand new apartment, which wasn’t too far from Jin. He knows Jin was going to keep her in safe hands and cause he’s the only person he trusted to ever be around yn.

She got out the bathroom fully clothed and froze when she saw plenty of bags and boxes packed nicely. Some empty some ready to be taped. Were they moving? She questioned.

Jungkook as if a psychic, he looked at her and smiled tiredly.

He hasn’t slept in a few days just up and thinking. “ No, we aren’t moving but you are.” He tried not to tear up he truly did but damn why did she have to taunt him with her life.

“I can’t have you…” he mumbled feeling the tears drop from his eyes. “ so… I have to let you go. I’ll feel better knowing that you aren’t with me.”

Yn was shocked yes but boy she really didn’t expect him to actually let her go.

It’s not that she wanted to stay, but she knew there had to be a catch to it. Why was he giving in so easily?

“ Jin will be coming to get you in a few hours once he gets off work…” he whipped his tears and turned to continue packing her things.

“ I’ll feel better if your with him to keep you safe.”

Yes, He wasn’t lying. He is going to let her go. But not just that easily.

He knows that If she’s alone she’ll be so lonely she would crawl back to him. She will want him back forgetting about all the things he did to those people who dared be in her presence.

“Thank you.” She blurted out which caused him to nod.

“I’m in over my head” is what Jungkook kept saying to himself while him and Jin loaded his truck with her things.

yn sat in the front seat shaking from excitement but also fear. Something just wasn’t right.

She could practically smell that something about this whole thing was just… fishy.

While in her thought process, The guys loaded the last thing up closing the trunk. Jungkook walked over to her side of the car looking at her eagerly.

yn was so deep in her on thoughts she didn’t see Jungkook standing in front of her. Didn’t even feel the vehicle start up and back out the parking lot driving away.

“She’s gone…” Jungkook said standing there lost. “ and she didn’t even say goodbye…”

He walked back into the apartment building going to the elevator and then getting off onto his floor then into his now empty apartment.

It wasn’t really empty but it felt empty. The one who kept it so warm was gone. Now it was cold.

Him and bam both looked sad honestly. Well, Bam looked like Bam. But Jungkook? Something twisted and turned in him.

Something pure demented. Evil.

He thought over and over again. He’d stop hurting others but without his reasoning to staying so clean, he had every reason to go torture someone…

“ I wonder what her sister is up to…” he mumbled staring off into space imagining how nice it would be to just hurt yns sweet but dumb sister.

He never liked her sister or any of her family. Hell her contact has the name ‘ No One’. He never cared for her.

He always imagined killing her then blaming it on that wack ass boyfriend of hers.

He smiled. The smile that he hasn’t seem to do since before he met yn.

Whatever he was about to do… it was good. 

[evilponds]

share something sunday whateverrrr

It takes him longer than he’d ever willingly admit to knock on their door. He can’t get the thought out of his head that he hasn’t knocked on a door in over a year. It’s not exactly first on the list of things you get nostalgic about when you’re locked up in some blighted prison with a demon who, like a child, can’t comprehend the idea of a prison. He actually can’t remember the last time he did it. Had he been saying goodbye to his grandmother?

That thought traps him longer there still. He’s so absorbed in that – what was the last thing he said to her? Was he kind? Did he say enough? And, Maker, why is he thinking about this now, of all times? – that he jumps and bangs his elbow against the wall when Rook calls, “Lucanis, is that you?” Their voice, muffled by the door, sounds as though they’ve been woken from sleep, or deep focus. “You can come in.”

He finds them sitting on the floor of their room, poring over pages of verse organized in a manner that suggests they’ve been rearranged countless times over the past few hours, and likely would be again before the night was through.

“You’re a fan of poetry?” Lucanis tries a smile – that, at least, he remembers how to do. Or fake, if need be. Finding common ground is the first step in any friendship, Caterina had always told him. The next part of that advice had been, people are much easier to kill when they trust you already, but Luanis is fairly confident that it works for normal friendships as well. And because that seems to be what Rook wants from this team, he can try to indulge them.

“Not hardly,” Rook grunts, shoving a page across their coffee table. “Never did get it – it’s all a little too abstract for me. But Neve thinks we should be trying to learn as much about the gods as we can, and it’s not like I can get much else done at this hour. So I’m reading shitty poetry about Elger’nan, and of course I’m learning fuck-all, because this poet knew him about as well as I do, because just like the rest of us he was piecing together little facts from a deeply incomplete history. Also, he liked the word ‘loin’ way too much.”

Looking at them brings to mind a caged lion, thwarted potential and sheathed claws. He would be willing to bet that if they didn’t need to be reading at this table, they would be pacing between the close walls of their chambers. This is his first time seeing them out of armor. It feels wrong somehow; he feels the sudden need to excuse himself and leave, as though he’s walked in on them changing.

They sigh. “But I”m sure you didn’t come up here to hear me complain. Unless you did? I have a list.”

“Perhaps another time,” says Lucanis.

“Damn. Well, can’t blame a girl for trying. Something’s on your mind, then? Come take a seat.” They pat a spot on the chaise they’re leaning against, looking more open than they ever have when they’ve looked at him. Or perhaps that’s only wishful thinking. “Let’s hear it.”

“Actually…” Lucanis glances up at their window, ignoring the vertiginous leap in his stomach at the view of what the Fade must think an ocean looks like. A fish drifts from one end to the other, its empty eye seeming never to leave him. “Must we speak here?”

Rook follows his gaze and grimaces. “Oh, shit, sorry. Let me get the -” They stop halfway to the window. “Well, there was a curtain here yesterday. This place can’t make up its damn mind about what it wants to be. That’s the Fade for you, eh?”

He knows what they mean. The Lighthouse keeps giving him doors that lead nowhere, and he opens them every damn time anyway thinking maybe this will be the time he finds extra pantry space behind them. The other night he dreamt of an old job and woke to find the knife – untouched for years – at his bedside, the blood still drying. He had stayed awake the rest of that night, and had been relieved beyond words to see everybody alive at breakfast the next day.

“It is unlike anywhere I have ever been,” he says, as neutrally as he can manage.

[wearethekingdom]

Tell me about your trip bro >:3 seems like you got some really cool stuff!!

RAHHHH GNAWING. AT THE BARS IF MY ENCLOSURE RIGHT NOW!!!1!!!! i was hoping someone was actually interested in what i was saying cuz sometimes posting on here feels like talking to the wall. this is gonna be like really long sorry, you dont have to read it

ANYWAYS YES. So me and a couple other people went up to the north of ireland for a few days which was so so awesome sauce because i love drives. see i never say long drives because once someone got needlessly mad at me for calling it a long drive and started indirect posting about me but 4 hours is like the longest you could drive from one place to another here. so. its long for me kind of (ignoring my copious weeks-long US roadtrips)

we got to the place where we were staying at, the beds were so uncomfy think i wouldve slept better on the floor tbh BUT it's fine. we went to the shop because everything is like cheaper there and i got this blanket with ghost dogs on it for my dog cuz he likes covering himself in a blanket when he sleeps, its really cute so i had to get him a new blanket. then we tried to go out for dinner but told us we werent allowed in to the place we booked the day before because no minors were allowed in at that time like lad put that on your damn website then 🙏🙏 so we ate the random snacks we had bought earlier in our room, which was kind of way too delicious

DAY 2?!?!

We went to the Titanic museum cuz i like history and raujerng um it was fucking awesome, some of the workers there spoke irish which was so cool, i took some photos of stuff and i learnt so much about the titanic that i didnt know about. I also cried in the middle of one of the exhibits because i realised just the sheer amount of people who died and. yeah. but nah it was a great experience

then we went to some shitty science museum cuz it looked cool on their website but we were the oldest people there everyone was like FIVE. so we left quickly.

Then we went on a walk and it was super duper pretty, we also went swimming there, sea swimming my favourite thing EVER!! did some diving off the rocks, realy enjoyed that

For dinner we went to this like dinerish thing, it was really cool and the food was so tasty, we didnt get kicked out of this place (fuck yeah) I tried dumplings for the first time and they were actually really good like i didnt think i would enjoy them but yeah! i also got strawberry lemonade which i thought i didnt like for whatever reason but now ive tried it again i do!

DAY 3?!?!?

last day cuz i have school soon. SO we woke up super late and totaly overstayed but like womp womp owners didnt give a single shit. We went to the 2nd hand book shop where i got The Great Gatsby, Batman The Dark Knight, Lost in Translation, and even more than i showed so i also got Will Grayson Will Grayson, Catching Teller Crow, The Honest Truth and Wayward. They were all like 2 pounds which is so good cuz every book is atleast 11 euro back home cuz idk they dont like doing 2nd hand bookshops down there for some reason. Then we went to the vintage store where i got my postcards cuz i loveeee collecting old postcards with messages on them, the 1958 one is now the oldest postcard i own and its SO COOL LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, im actually so happy i found it. Also got those 2 ceramic guys, the hippo and the bunny, if you got a name suggestion JJ let me know cuz i havent named them yet. Then we got on the road back home where we listened to shitty drill rappers and irish rebel songs all the way back

it was such a good trip and i am yet again sorry this is so long

[were-my-demons-hide]

I'm giving the may prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting a try! :) tysm I'm in love with these cute prompt ideas!

My setting for all of these will be The Walking Dead cause I'm an obsessed wreck :D Pairing: Magna x Yumiko :)

Feel free to let me know what you think about these two beans! Also I'm german and my writing might be slightly off sometimes. I just started exploring writing english prompts and I definitely do feel insecure about it. Please be kind <3

1. Strawberries

“Are you serious?!” Magna said and eyed Yumiko down. She shook her head, uncomprehendingly. “You can't be serious, Miko.”

“It's not my fault, Magna.”

Magna's eyes were flickering between the woman and the strawberries on the table. The anger did not only show in her tone but also the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. One hand kept drumming onto her own upper arm.

It was impossible to miss how annoyed Magna was. And she had all right to be.

Yumiko didn't want to argue. Not during the short amount of time they had. It was only a handful of days a month that Magna visited her in her apartment.

Mostly because they had this weird thing going on.

The shower arrangement.

Because Yumiko could not stand the fact that Magna had to shower with ice-cold water at the workers' settlements on most days.

They had spoken briefly after the ball. Just a little small talk to catch up. They hadn’t had the chance to see each other before and Yumiko still cared so much about Magna.

Well, if Yumiko was being honest with herself, there would have been chances.

Definitely.

But she never overcame her fear and anger, though.

Until suddenly Magna had served her that fancy wine. Yumiko had found her incredibly stunning. After that, both had been enormously tipsy around each other.

Nevertheless, arguments weren’t rare occasions when they met. They still hadn’t had the time to figure things out.

Yumiko just wanted to be with Magna and feel her with every fiber of her body again.

Magna slipped away though.

“But you do know that Daryl and all the other parents, caregivers, whatever you want to call them… they need to wait at least an hour in the food line to get their kids some kind of shitty mashed potatoes and beans. And they are giving you damn strawberries?! Not fair.”

“I know you are upset. I know you don't like this way of life. And neither do I.”

“Yeah, sure.” Magna scuffed impatiently.

Yumiko went on and ignored Magna's snappy comment.

“I didn't ask for this. It just happened to me. I’m in love with the fact that we are safe from the sickos here. But I hate you guys being treated badly. I am trying to make things better, trust me.”

Yumiko dared to take a step toward Magna. And the other woman froze.

“In fact, you love how things are done here. I mean… the CommonWealth got you your old life back. You do love that, Miko.” Magna made eye contact. An intense sting hit Yumiko right in the guts. She couldn’t disagree. Because it was the achy truth.

“And that's kind of the whole damn point.” Magna continued with a sigh. ”People being at the top also means people being at the bottom. And they suffer. Daily, Miko.”

“I know how this works. And I am hating it.” Miko pleaded again.

She couldn’t stand how Magna somehow thought she liked what Pamela did to the lower class. Yumiko swallowed the paragraph forming in her head, all about how she studied society models and how she went on anti-capitalist student protests. She couldn’t deny the thoughts of defense but wanted to calm the waves.

“Look. I didn't touch the strawberries. I saved them for you.” Yumiko told her in honesty, cracking a weak smile.

Something in Magna’s eyes twitched.

“Who says I would want you to?” Magna pointed a nasty look toward the berry bowl.

“Back then in prison? I visited you on this very hot summer day. And you told me you loved berries. And that there never were berries in prison. I want to make things easier for you, Magna. I can't get myself into the lower class. Not as Milton’s lawyer. I can't switch. But I can fight from my point of being. I can still fight for you.”

Big brown eyes seemed to absorb Yumiko while talking.

Finally, Magna lowered her arms. Her gaze softened.

“You’d still do that?” Magna asked quietly. The question sounded insanely vulnerable.

“Ride or die, remember?” Yumiko reassured. She tilted her head a little. Arms down by her sides, trying to convey openness and support. And love, of course. Always love.

Because Yumiko loved Magna.

“Ride or die.” Magna nodded and all at once her walls broke down. She wrapped her arms around Yumiko’s waist and pulled her in. The gesture was so close and sudden that Yumiko forgot to breathe for a moment. Then she inhaled Magna slowly squeezing her even tighter to feel more of her.

Yumiko felt a trace of fingertips on her back making its way up between her shoulder blades. Magna nestled her face into Miko’s neck and pressed a kiss onto the soft skin.

“I missed you.” Yumiko whispered into her ear.

“Me too.”

Yumiko was gently loosening her grip on Magna’s body only to take a strawberry and hold it in front of Magna’s mouth.

“Do you even remember how these taste?” Yumiko asked with a grin. Magna’s eyebrows rose. “I could never forget that.” They shared a sheepish look before Magna took a bite of the strawberry.

“Holy shit!” Her eyes grew wide. “Just taste it already!”

Yumiko took her advice into action immediately. Holding Magna close as she put the berry in her own mouth now. It tasted amazing.

“I get why you are in love with berries.” Miko agreed. Both of them chuckled lightly.

“What do you think about me sharing with you then?” Magna bit her bottom lip staring right into Miko’s eyes.

“I’d like that.”

[constantvariations]

V9C4

Finally here after several hours of a dnd session zero, so this whiplash is going to be interesting

Post Ep: not as infuriating as the last episode but still missteps at pretty much every turn. At the very least we can say there’s been character “progression”

God Ruby’s voice is so damn bad I thought it was a literal child calling for a cat. Why does she sound more mature at 15 than 17?

Did we really need a close up of the cat piecing itself back together? We already know it can do wacky things with its ugly gradient body, so why the emphasis here? I doubt it’s foreshadowing for a permanent bisection

“Nothing we’ve tried has gotten us any further.” Ruby. Darling. Babe. You’ve tried walking to the tree. Nothing else. It’s not the cat’s fault you can’t think of something else besides Scooby Doo hijinks with the looping sections

What the hell is Yang now? She hasn’t been fun or quippy since Beacon but now (and that one spot in V8) she’s suddenly Joss Whedon with a dash of Hulk rage? And I can’t recall Weiss ever having these kinds of facial expressions. Judgmental commentary, sure, but this feels like she’s 3 seconds away from saying something into the camera like this is the Office

“Just because [the cat] doesn’t want to go back to the tree doesn’t mean we can’t lure them there.” That’s... a curious choice of words. Why “lure?” You lure someone into a trap or an ambush, not ask someone to be a guide. Why wouldn’t Blake use the obvious direction of “we can make a deal with the cat because they’re curious and want information we have.” You can’t really call someone a hero when their instinct is deception of a potential ally who’s already saved their asses for no real reason

Are they going to be losing the cat the whole damn episode? Is that going to be the running gag? I fucking hope not. Ruby’s voice is absolutely obnoxious this episode

She’s talking to the cat like he’s a literal toddler. And it’s acting like a toddler with an ipad. Someone put me down like Old Yeller please

Which of these idiots thought lampshading was a good idea? Like, congrats! You recognize the flaws in the story you wrote! How are you going to fix them 10 years too late? You can’t wink, wink, nudge your way out of shitty writing that you so desperately defended and clung to despite all the people giving actual constructive criticism

Why are all of them so tired of the questions? Surely, each of them have something they’d be ecstatic to talk about at length? Ruby with the progression of weapon development, Weiss with her plans to improve the SDC, Blake with other stories she’s read or how the White Fang came and fell, Yang with stories about Ruby when she was younger. There’s so many possibilities when you have a genuinely curious audience, yet they went the lazy route of “har, har, no one cares about anything” again

Was that bridge made of legos?

Okay, this is the second time the roles of acres have been mentioned. Exactly what does that mean? Do these roles serve a central purpose? The tree seems to be at the center of Wonderland, so are the acres serving the tree in some way? Is harmony throughout the different factions pivotal in keeping Wonderland in wonder instead of despair? What could this possibly mean for any themes or character arcs? It doesn’t seem like the areas thus far have resonated with any of the team, and they left behind Penny’s halo sword, the only thing that’s been even somewhat emotionally compelling, so I’m struggling to understand why Wonderland is set up like this

Love how literally nobody asks the obvious question of “are you okay?” All we get is Yang’s “Rubes?” (has she ever called Ruby that before? I can’t recall) and Blake’s logical deflection and Weiss whining yet again. You’d think for a season that cut away from the bloated cast to focus on the main characters they would, I don’t know, focus on the main character

This is the least Little has talked the entire season. Please keep the cat around more so this shithead will shut the fuck up. Also, Little deadass pointed to where the cat went and y’all don’t immediately follow? Are you trying to get lost?

Okay. Not gonna lie. The caterpillar’s design is dope as shit. The triple eyes in that gorgeous green. The pointy mouth that moves like a skeleton’s jaw. The two-toned wings. The antennae and little spikes. The collar and vest. That ~voice~ Fucking A+ The only thing I’m side-eyeing is the accessories. Hopefully I’m wrong - I’ll be the first to admit I’m not well versed in Indigenous cultures - but the coloring is very reminiscent of turquoise which was an incredibly significant mineral to Southwestern Native American tribes, most commonly associated with Navajo, and Caterpillar’s jewelry designs reflect this as well. My quick google search for this specific design mostly ends up being “hippie aesthetic” which does take inspiration from Indigenous aesthetics, so I can’t really say for certain which one crwby looked at for the design. Given the Medicine Man trope and the herbal smoking in the OP, I’m not holding out much hope

“Growgurt” sounds so damn gross please never say it again

They are really hammering this “who/what are you” thing directly into your eardrums aint they? I’m not entirely sure how this answer affects a recipe, but go off I guess Also, note how Caterpillar gets just the bit exasperated and Yang’s immediately in a fighting stance. The others are afraid, for some cocksmith of a reason - all homeboy did was grumble, what y’all scared of? Did y’all suddenly develop RSD? - but this bitch at half a foot is ready to throw down

Caterpillar is speaking philosophy 101 and these idiots are acting like he’s speaking ancient greek. I hope he poisons the lot of them

“This is how a king winds up a prince.” Does that imply that the prince was genuinely the king that played Alyx but he’s somehow reverted back to a toddler? That raises way too many questions I have no care to even ponder

This far in and we have no idea who or what Caterpillar was to Alyx. Not even a whispered expo-dump, which would be stupid easy given that most of them are tiny. Yet Blake, upon seeing the smoking, is like “we gotta dip” which so par for the course in every episode thus far. This better not be crwby’s attempt at an anti-drug message or I swear I’m gonna toss a fridge into space

Oh christ on toast the Beacon outfits don’t deserve this slander

“You could just be human or just a cat.” Once again, weird phrasing. Like, yeah, it’s clarified that it’s about trying to bring peace between humans and faunus, but why wouldn’t you phrase it in a way that sticks closer to that sentiment rather than acting like she has the Yamato and can carve out what she doesn’t like? What would it even mean to Blake to “just be a cat?” Would that mean living in Menagerie forever with no worries about humans? Would she turn into an actual cat? She just has fucking cat ears man, this is so overblown

Wow, these “I know who I am” speeches suck ass. They’re so vague and InSpIrAtIoNaL I’m wondering if this is supposed to be a mature cartoon or a reading of those posters they put up in school halls of cats in trees with the quote “hang in there!”

“I’m the granddaughter of a hero” bitch who? Who is this mysterious hero? If someone doesn’t know or watch the Remnant expo-dump series, they don’t know who you’re talking about Weiss! You can’t bring up something in the main story if the context is shoved in a spinoff! Also, “daughter of a villain.��� Babe, your father was a clown at best and a business major at worst. Villain is not a title he deserves “I will not be defined by my name because I will be the one to define it.” Uhhhhh exactly where in this redefinition is compensation for the lives stolen by your family company? Have you thought of that, Miss Heiress? When your name has that big of an impact, I don’t think you get to be the sole decider. Also, you have siblings who might want a say in it too

Still pissed that the whole “Missing Summer” arc was shoved onto Ruby, who was what? 2? 3 years old when she left? Ruby talks to her gravestone, sure, but as for memories or stories, she hasn’t had a single one. This entire thing falls flat because there was 0 buildup

“You’re supposed to be helping others find their way, but you’ve lost your own.” WHAT WHAT WHAT THE FUCK. Jesus on a toaster strudel can you not villainize every single person who slightly questions uwu precious Ruby? He literally helped the other 3 cement themselves, why doesn’t that count? Sure, it was against their will and all, but these girls clearly need some goddamn help if they can’t answer a basic question like “what is a huntress?”

There are so many questions about those last 20 seconds that I don’t even know what to do with them. Let’s just sum it up with “what the fuck”

[livingasaghost]

september was not great folks, but we're trying <3

in the saddest realization of the season i discovered that my favorite part of the day is my 40m drive to work because it's chilly and i can see a lot of trees and the morning light and i also am in the perfect headspace to listen to Good Music and it's like when i used to make my morning playlists for opening the coffeeshop except soooo much more enjoyable

been listening to lots of holly humberstone and NF's new album and justin vernon stuff (bon iver, BRM, etc) and unfortunately gracie abrams - there's just something about all these artists being like "I AM THE PROBLEM ITS ME IM SORRY" that just speaks to me! that's not concerning at all!

laura and i talked for like two hours last night and it was like old times and god i really do miss when we'd just ride the same bus home and i could walk to her house ):

i've been trying to make taylor's chai cookies for like a week and i realized i absolutely have time to make them today so i'm trying to buck up the energy to do that in the next two hours before i have to be a person and go to a photoshoot

"good day" by olivia barton

i'm trying to get back into crying in h mart because mom finished reading it and we're supposedly buddy reading it so we can discuss it but i haven't felt like reading all month because i've been depressed...but like damn cancer sucks guys

in other news, i think because i've had such a shitty brain month this september i've almost pushed myself so far that halloween season sounds really fun!!! i'm trying to work through my halloween hate bc i think it's kind of silly and all my friends love halloween so i should love it too! and like i wanna watch spooky movies and be chilly and have FUN! god!

i kinda forgot a vital piece of jennalore which is that when i was a kid my mom's college roommate used to send us frosted sugar cookies shaped like bats every halloween and it was actually kinda the best thing ever? so i'm trying to channel that energy this season

work is batshit insane and i'm so exhausted by it i literally slept for 11hrs on like wednesday night bc i was so tired but also......when we're busy i always feel like i'm actually Doing Something and my bosses are so happy with the work i do so like.....it's good even though it's bad!

therapy has actually been really really good? like it Sucks bc it's therapy and i hate talking about my feelings but my therapist is the sweetest NB person ever and they're always just like "uhhh that's emotional abuse my dude!" and i'm so fucking excited bc at the end of october they're gonna have saturday openings which means i can finally go talk to them in person and not on my lunch break in our tiny break room!!!! at this point i have to pretend like my coworker can't hear everything i say during therapy otherwise i'd go insane so i always leave my sessions being like ......did max hear that i'm aroace and i have depression and i might be neurodivergent??? idk!!!

which speaking of, even though max and i definitely aren't like friends by any sense of the word....we are also just like having a time together! it's wild i see him most out of all the people i know but i think we're both going a little insane from the workload and being Depressed so we just spend all day being kinda wacky and for whatever reason i've reached a point where i stopped having a filter with him so i just start talking about the most random shit and he's cool with it lol

i think i might maybe be a little lonely! idk! i've been struggling to figure out what i need or who to talk to and i generally just want to talk to like two or three of my friends or my gc and everyone's just busy ): but then when i have the chance to talk to anyone and i Sit Down to try to interact bc i know some people are probably around i just get a little overwhelmed idk make it make sense!!!

and i realized i don't have a lot of IRL friends anymore bc a lot of the ones i had from the coffeeshop are Not My Friend and the ones i met on instagram are also Not My Friend and the ones i used to live with are Not My Friend and so my list of people to hang with is teeny tiny and idek what i need or want anymore so it's just my brain screaming .

the most frustrating thing rn is that i know i'm in a bad mental place however i cannot distinguish what i need! but when someone asks me what i need i get this intense panic/dread and i spiral real bad and if anyone tries to be kind to me it makes me feel worse and so it's like....i'm stuck in this stand still where i can't get what i need but i don't know what i need so i just eat cereal, listen to music, and go to bed early!!!

i don't wanna watch anything, i still haven't finished this season of only murders, i need a DVD player bc i want to watch the director's commentary of hill house, there's a bunch of shows and movies coming out soon that i feel overwhelmed by at the moment and it's just like !!! this is all so unfair

and i need to make all these appointments like getting my oil changed and going to the doctor for my annual but i cannot bring myself to do those things but also like should i ask my doctor about medication for depression??? surely it isn't that serious but like maybe it is idk!!!!

the depression isn't as bad as it's been in the past (i think?) like i felt a lot more hopeless in 2017 and i think a lot of that is because i do have a support system and a therapist and a good paying job and things to look forward to but like i'm very aware that many days i do just feel that feeling of "everything is meaningless and nothing will bring me joy ever again" so it's like !!! idk!!!! maybe i'm gaslighting myself into thinking i'm not that bad when in actuality i am!!!

i've just been stuck in that space of middle limbo with all my "diagnoses" that i cannot rationally understand if i'm allowing myself to see myself the way i am? like i always felt like i wasn't depressed enough to be Depressed bc i'm not suicidal but like ??? that's silly !!! maybe i am Depressed!!!!! but i don't even know how to go about getting meds and what they would do and it's almost more overwhelming to think about that than to just be depressed ): bc i still am convinced a lot of it comes down to the heat and the lingering effects of summer

but now i'm thinking about 2021 when it was the bad times and i stopped working on creative stuff or literally any year from 2017-2020 when i just spent the early fall Not Creating and having a crisis that i'd never create again and it's like.............is that bc i'm always depressed around this time? it's comforting bc i know life is seasons and i will come back around to making things and doing my silly projects but it's just sort of making me wonder how it would be different if i tried to find a way to get meds ....like would that Fix Me....would that Solve the Problem....what if it doesn't! what if i'm not depressed enough for that!

(this is all just thoughts, i'm fine, etc, just haven't let myself fully think about the depression this month bc i don't think there's a solution rn i'm just trying to get through it)

anyway, "good day" by olivia barton

[younganonymus]

29,30,31,32

3, 5, 6, 7, 11, 12, 25, 29, 30, 31, 32, 46, 72, 78, 90, 91?

3, One activity I hate: being around my father, "talking" with him.

5, Disgusting meal: everything with spinach or cooked vegetables in general. I prefer fruits and vegetables raw much more.

6, idols of mine: Jackie Chan, Vin Diesel as real life people

7, person I really hate: my father, one ex-girlfriend

11: Afraid of might not be the correct word for it, but I do not like ants. They are chill as long as they stay away from me. 0,0

12, people I hate: stubborn, narcotic, self-loving or overly self-esteemed people. Like no matter how much you scientifically know and proof them wrong, they do not care about you or your opinion. You may have spent your whole life doing nothing but this one thing and they still tell you you have no idea.

25, dances I know or want to know: by far I am not an expert, but I enjoy Tango, Salsa, line dance and classic (like Waltzer for example). And of course would love to have real lessons in it!!! (Hopefully not alone though…)

29, good childhood memory: camping iutside, getting awake by the warmth of sunlight on your face, staying up late near a camp fire, … I would love to have more of these…

30, happy with my life: HAHAHAHAHA, ABSOLUTELY not!!!!! I literally tried to end it last weekend and still somehow made it through the night, not walking straight or even in a line for two days.

31, something I regret/wish I had done different: Punching that knife through my throat/Shutting of my phone on new year’s eve from 2017 tp 2018. Literally ten seconds would have made a BIG difference, but nope, here I still am… -_-

32, seven years ago did I picture my life being like this: i did not really thought it would be that bad, but I am also not surprised. So yes, I knew my life would be shitty, but damn was I a fool…

33, from now in seven years: HOPEFULLY, hopefully dead long ago, or but more unrealistic, finally settled in life. (solid work, good/enough income, happy wife, happy kids, …)

34, yes, I am thankful for pretty every experience I made. Of course some painful less would not be bad but after all those are the moments that form us the most. How could we be thankful for food on our plate if not knowing what hunger feels like?

35, any ability to gain and one to tribute: reading minds would help a LOT but simultaneously would be manipulative, so I would love to be able to fly and give up the ability to speak, if that’s what it takes. (Just imagine the wonderful sceneries you can gasp on above or amongst the clouds, how many wonderful sunrises you could see above water, how beautiful the night sky is in different countries, …)

36, bad habit of mine: never shutting up. Too many times I have unwillingly told sad stories of mine just to avoid that awkward silence…

40, The movie “The haunted mansion” with Eddie Murphy left quite a mark on me, even though it is a good movie.

41, movie scenes with reflections in a dark setting, like in “The haunted mansion”, where a character looks up in a mirror and sees himself as a bloody, dead self or some other evil creatures.

42, childish behaviour of mine: the urge to try out playgrounds when passing by or balancing on small edges whenever possible.

46, I am ABSOLUTELY an animal person!!! I do not care what you think of me (as long as I don’t know you) as long as I can play with that big doggo or play around with that kitty or watch those bunnies hop around and around.

54, at school I was the one being joked about and untaken from primary school to the finals. (Although the last two years were much less bullying and outcasting.)

55, I do NOT like my hometown at all! Sure, it’s good living here and you get everywhere easily, but I prefer rural areas much more than metropolitan.

61, stand-alone movies or rows: I rarily watch movies but if, then most of times a whole collection in a row. Like Pirates of the Caribean or Lord of the rings, Star Wars, Hunger games, Rush Hour, … I may not watch one after another instantly, but still try to finish the series in a short time.

62, something afraid of telling a new girlfriend: my weird quirks/faults (which she would find out sooner or later anyway) and my weird kinks. (Nothing harmful but still weird.)

72, am I attractive in some way: Well, to be honest, many people (women and men) told me I have quite a sexy or athletic body, but that’s it I guess. I may be a lot funny, but stupid, open hearted yet mentally broken, caring but ugly, soooo… Maybe I am attractive for just the first glimpse???

78, when is a relationship official: As soon as you kiss one another frequently/regularly. Doesn’t even need to be the mouth, but Gentleman-like on the woman’s hand as a greeting and goodbye is pretty much solid proof one is interested and the other not neglecting.

79, I am absolutely and always honest, so do not mind asking me anything.

80, I HATE the way I look!!! I could be stronger, could be taller, skinnier/thinner, better face, better hair, …

81, three wishes: to finally be dead, (secret) and/or live the dream of my life (happy family of my own, own yard and house, few animals of our oen, …)

82, I ALWAYS wanted to have younger siblings to take care of, which lateron turned into having my own kids, yes.

90, IF that person has time and I KNOW it, I call them most-probably on my way there. But since apparently no one on this planet (amongst my generation and younger) seems to accept calls or even visits, I text people.

91, In my opinion you do not need a certain date or anniversary to celebrate your relationship. If you feel like going on a date together, ligthing the room with candles, prepare a lovely bathroom for her, sending her flowers, then do so! I hate it when people only focus on certain dates! Like why only call me on my birthday if you know I want to see you more often? Why acting like we love our family if we talk bad about each other through the whole year???

[daughter-of-fire-and-dreams]

Sigurista - 1

Bright, blindingly and annoyingly bright. 

That’s the usual. A bright shitty sky that doesn’t let a single star be seen. They’re there, but invisible. 

Just like the ghosts that follow everyone who has managed to live through this era after the Flood. 

Not that it bothers Rhua too much, this is just the same old story, same day of an abnormal everyday. Get up. Wash face and anything in need of basic hygiene. Eat what’s left of the previous night’s dinner. Suit up. Leave apartment…. Realize keys were left inside apartment for the tenth time in a row. Who cares though?

Routine, routine, routine. It goes on and on. Round and around, just like these damn steps that lead outside of her quarters. Rhua knows her sense of direction in itself already took an unrepairable damage from the circles and circles she has to walk through to get done with every self imposed task to do around town. She yawns when she finally reaches the first floor. 

Someday, her back won’t be able to handle sleeping facedown on a worktable anymore. And Rhua isn’t doing herself any favors by continuing this despite being aware of it. Her eyes are already fucked up enough thanks to working in complete darkness in a damn world that only knows light. That was probably her most amusing self destructive achievement. 

But it was back to routine. A left turn. More spiral steps to take a right and then a left again. There’s a switch to press to turn on the generators that are tasked to take over for the morning ones. Scheduling to avoid overclocking, a few stops forward and then back on the hangar sides of the city, showing a great view of the aetheryte and an absolutely empty Musica Universalis. 

Nothing really catches Rhua’s eye. It’s an empty place at this time. And the sight doesn’t prompt her to measure exactly *what* time of the day it is. It doesn’t matter. 

There’s a quick stop by the Amaro pens. It’s not a constant one, but today Rhua feels the need to. It’s not to ruffle the feathers of their city’s best four winged flyers though, but to check in on the pen beside it. Rhua’s usually quick, but she’s not a child anymore. With a few groggy greetings towards the keeper for that time, she eventually makes her way back to her work station with a handful of chicken eggs in tow. Better to prepare a decent meal for today, or at least, a half decent one. 

She’s never been one to be picky about food, but today is a special day. 

Or… At least she figures some eggs were better than bland rations as a tentative last meal. 

It’s an unspoken tension that’s shared among most of the crew involved. Which in total weren’t exactly a lot. The Crystalline Means could move on missing only a handful of people. There’s several hours before the operation begins too. But the worry and high expectations are soaring sky high. Today, or rather tomorrow they’ll be the first team that assembles alongside other forces from the Crystarium to try and take down a Lightwarden. 

Yes, yes. It’s a myth that you can kill those things. But doing something is far better than just sitting still, twiddling your thumbs, waiting to either get killed or die out of old age without ever stepping outside of a city. 

Not all the citizens know of the Exarch’s plan too. It isn’t something public that will get their hopes up. Or crush them depending on the amount of information shared. There’s at least ten years left before he makes a move, and those living in this present can’t afford to wait. They need to fight. 

They have to fight. 

It’s what Rhua believes. She’s not a flame that’s at the front, ready to kill sin eaters. She’s just an engineer taking 15 tasks at the same time. But she knows the risks of the move they’re about to do. And… Is eerily the most calm out of her team to go out there. 

Her arrival at the Crystalline Means only gets a shocked reaction from the few that are still mingling around. Did… did she look that bad? It was barely nigh-

“Rhua it’s 3am, what are you doing here?!” one of her fellow frazzled engineers yelled as he promptly dropped his mug of coffee. 

Ah. 

That explains the distant sound of owls… 

Had she really been working that long that it was the morning of the next day?...

It was always hard to tell. Not that it really mattered. There was work to do, and her being around earlier than necessary meant better check ups. Today was the day they’d kill a Lightwarden, for good or bad. 

Or was it tomorrow?...