#my English teacher would say this is badly redacted

[capitaldelparaiso]

Elaborate. (I very much agree BUT I want to listen to u rambling <3)

HELLO hiiii how r u (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)💗 I know I can trust you to listen to me rambling <33

so this is my essay on how Blonde by Frank Ocean is about Formula 1

(disclaimer ik what this album is about and I don't wanna 'erase' that meaning. I'm just giving a f1-perspective :))

NIKES

iconic first track.

"we’ll let you guys prophesy, we gon’ see the future first"

so, these lines about the expectation on the races, like this would be from a driver's pov talking to a journalist

"living so the last night feels like a past life"

this magnificent line has a very direct meaning ofc but just think,,, this after a race weekend,, especially a bad race,,

also the line "my balls sticking to my jeans" is giving me Magnussen vibes ngl

IVY

"I broke your heart last week you'll probably feel better by the weekend"

this line is sooo Formula 1. every weekend is a new opportunity and it doesn't matter what you did last week (I'm oversimplifying here ofc).

this song especially reminds me of brocedes and other friendships that started in childhood like esteban and pierre, in many many lines, but to say some:

"oh, I could hate you now it's quite alright to hate me now when we both know that deep down the feeling still deep down is good" "in the halls of your hotel arm around my shoulder so I could tell how much I meant to you, meant it sincere back then we had time to kill back then you ain't a kid no more"

BE YOURSELF

honestly I love this audio (would it be considered a song? idk). but well you see the thing, don't do drugs if you want to be an athlete.

also the lines:

"don't try to be someone else don't try to be like someone else don't try to act like someone else, be yourself be secure with yourself rely and trust upon your own decisions on your own beliefs"

can be related to the deal with fame and how it can be difficult to stay true to yourself when you have such a big repercussion

SKYLINE TO

this song is about the summer break you can't change my mind. here are some of the lyrics:

"solstice ain’t as far as it used to be it begins to blur, we get older summer’s not as long as it used to be"

especially from the perspective of an experienced driver, who has been on the sport for many seasons

PRETTY SWEET

the first lines of this song are like made for F1 omg. especially the first four lines:

"now to the edge I'll race to the end I'll make it all the risk I'll take it"

I know they can be applied to anything in life etc but just look at them kgkldkkv. formula 1.

"said you wanna hurt me now you can't hurt me now that might be what you need"

just formula 1 battles. see the most recent (chestappen) as an example

FACEBOOK STORY

literally Esteban Ocon's voice.

jokes aside, the impact that the drivers have on social media and how it affects their relationships (I'm sure you can think of an example)

WHITE FERRARI

do I even have to. I mean

"white ferrari, had a good time (sweet sixteen, how was I supposed to know anything?)"

literally Charles Leclerc. I mean the fact that he races with number 16, also white ferrari could be Alfa Romeo and he had quite a good time there (being a bit delusional here)

"I care for you still and I will forever that was my part of the deal, honest we got so familiar spending each day of the year"

honestly I kinda see this as relationships between drivers who have been seeing each other in the paddock for many years (even some before, in karting)

"I'm sure we're taller in another dimension"

Ferrari and Charles could have been much more </3 maybe in another timeline he'll be world champion (maybe on this one)

SEIGFRIED

"I can’t relate to my peers I’d rather live outside I’d rather chip my pride than lose my mind out here maybe I’m a fool maybe I should move and settle two kids and a swimming pool"

sooo these lyrics (and this song in general) are related to Frank's sexuality and the concept of tough, stoic masculinity, and as we know most sports demand men to be very "masculine", including Formula 1

"maybe I'm a fool to settle for a place with some nice views"

Monaco has some nice views doesn't it

also those last lines

"(in the dark) I’d do anything for you (in the dark)"

could relate to the things that we don't see when watching the sport, like what is going on inside a team (again, bringing us to chestapp-)

aand I left so many songs (Nights, Godspeed, Futura Free,,,) and I'm sorry about it :') anyway steam Blonde by Frank Ocean

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

-

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

-

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

[mrsamaroevans]

Mi Dulce

Uptown Girl Series.

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader.

Request: “Absolutely love the Uptown Girl series. Could I request another part? Maybe the reader is close to giving birth but Angel has gone on a run with the club to Mexico and it was suppose to only be a couple of days but he hasn’t got back and the reader is annoyed/upset as he promised he’d be there and she’ll have to give birth alone? —Anonymous.”

Words: 1,174

Warnings: Swearing, slightly mentions of sex [nothing to worry tbh] and birth.

A/N: This can be read as a solo imagine but eventually I’ll post more about this couple. Also, English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor. *Gif is not mine* This is my first request!!!! And I’ll be lying if I said I’m not happy. I hope you like it, anonymous!

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

One day, you had cut your hand with a broken cup and Angel had to stitch you up without anesthesia ‘cause you didn’t want to go to the hospital. You swore you had never felt a pain like that one before. Well, that wasn’t even close to what you were feeling thanks to the contractions.

“You’re doing it pretty great,” Emilia said once the contraction fade away. Your best friend was in the chair next to your bed looking at the monitor.

“I’m gonna kill Angel once he appears, I swear!” Your hand went to your belly, trying not to think that in five minutes you’ll have another contraction “Does someone know anything?”

“No. Felipe’s still calling him and my mother is calling my dad. They don’t pick up the calls” Emilia shook her head and put a hand on your shoulder “They are fine, don’t you worry”

You sighed. You were not worried; you were pissed with Angel ‘cause he promised that run to Mexico with the club was only to take two or three days, he said Bishop loved you like a daughter that he would never ask him to go if he knew he wasn’t going to be able to be present at the birth of your baby girl. It’s been a week since they left and he hadn’t picked his calls since that morning.

But, now that Emilia said those words, you started to wonder if everything was fine with them.

Luckily, Emilia’s mother got into the room at that moment “Your father finally picked his damn phone” she said, looking at Emilia. “He said he’s sending Angel back right now”

The hours passed and there was no sign of Angel, for a moment you were worried that he wouldn’t make it, but your baby seemed to not be in a rush to get out to the world. Felipe was coming in and out of the room to check in you and even though he didn’t know anything about his son, he tried to convince you that he would be there soon.

You talked about the birth every day. You talked about all the possible ways you could get into labor and what would you do in each one of them.

You talked about happening in school —Cause once you were thirty-four weeks, all your teachers told you there was no need for you to go to their classes. All your teachers but one—, during the night, while Angel had shift at the Romero Brothers, if you were outside home, but, the only one you never talked about, was the way actually happened. You were all alone.

Bishop said he wouldn’t ask Angel to go to runs so you never thought you were going to be alone, at least, that wasn’t the plan.

Also, you were sad for him. He wanted so badly to be with you at the birth and that was the reason why you didn’t protest too much when he said he had to go to Mexico with the club. You knew he would do anything to be with you on time, but as the minutes turned to hours, you were not so sure anymore.

“Te dije que no era buena idea [I told you it wasn’t a good idea]”

“I know, I know,” Angel said to his father, nodding “Neither of us expected it would take us more time… how’s she?”

“She’s doing it great,” Felipe said, leading his son to the room where you were.

“She’s gonna kill me” He covered his face with his hands and chuckled when the characteristic smell of hospital hit his nose.

It was happening. He was finally having his baby girl in his arms.

“You deserve it,” his father said.

Angel sighed and opened the door his father pointed. Suddenly, he was nervous like never before.

“There you are, bitch!” was the first thing he heard when he entered the room and thanks to his reflexes, before it could hit his face, he picked the empty cup where the nurses gave you ice that you threw at him.

You can’t lie. See him was a relief to you and you almost cried when he crossed the door, but you also were mad at him for not being there in the last six hours.

Emilia softly laughed at seeing Angel’s surprised face and Felipe was smiling for your action. Then, they both decided to leave you alone and once they closed the door, Angel gave a few steps towards you.

“Why didn’t you answer your fucking phone?” You asked, feeling your tears gathering in your eyes.

Angel took his phone out of his pocket and showed you its broken screen “It doesn’t work anymore… why didn’t you call Coco or Gilly?”

“I don’t know, Angel. Maybe I couldn’t think because your daughter is pushing down my vagina!” You said, leaning your head into the bed and looking at the ceiling. Angel chuckled and grabbed your hand once he was close enough “You’re not having sex with me in ten years, I swear!”

“Oh, c’mon! You love having sex with me” Angel teased and that made you laugh a little before he leaned down to kiss you.

“Don’t tempt me, Reyes, ‘cause I can leave you without sex for more than six weeks”

He laughed and kissed you again.

After an hour and a few pushes, the first Reyes girl was born. Everything happened pretty fast once Angel arrived at the hospital. It was like your daughter was waiting for him to show up.

You look up to Angel once the nurse took your daughter to clean her up, and what you saw was an Angel Reyes crying as he was still holding your hand.

You smiled feeling more tears coming out of your eyes and took your hand to Angel’s cheek so he looked at you “You’re okay?”

“You ask me if I’m okay?” He asked, chuckling and leaning a bit to you “Yes, I’m more than okay. I’m so proud of you” Angel cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead before kissing your lips “You’re a badass”

“Shut up” you laughed.

“Mr. Reyes…” The nurse called Angel so he rounded the bed and got closer to her as the doctor talked a little to you about the recovery.

You looked to your left and your heart melted at seeing how the nurse places your girl into her father’s arms, taking him by surprise. Angel was holding your daughter as if she was the most delicate thing in the world, and you smiled and cried, remembering the day you told him you were pregnant. You thought you would never see that moment but here you are. It’s even better than you imagined.

“Shh… no llores, mi dulce. [Don’t cry, my sweet (little girl)] It’s okay” You heard him say to her before kissing her little head and that was it. You couldn’t stop your tears after that “It’s okay, I’m here. Daddy’s here and he’s never gonna leave. I promise”

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

[anonymoonsthoughts]

☼16

[18.11.20]

C/W SWEARING AND INFLICTING PAIN

T/W death

I’m seriously going to scream into my pillow today😃😃I’ve had enough of people and I’ve enough of everything. I want to get out of here so badly.

IDK IF I’M JUST BEING SALTY OR PETTY BUT I JUST UGHHHHGBGUB

I should be continuing my coursework but this is making me go✈ vexed hours

Let’s start the morning. Went school by myself because someone is incapable at waking up at a specific time. This isn’t the first time. It was relatively ok till [REDACTED] came in. My head was just filled with “aren’t you going to apologise that you’re late and made me wait??”. Nothing. No apology. And this is the same person who constantly changes the time we meet: from 7:20, to 7:25 and now to 7:30. 

You may be thinking “Moon tf chill out it’s just a 10 minute difference”. The bus I take to school is one of the most crowded buses from 7:30 to 8:15. And why do I know this ✨experience✨ Not only that but there is a mass amount of students that get on along with adults travelling for work. 

Anyway, later in the day I was explaining what it means to be queer and why I not really comfortable on labelling myself AND SHE FUCKING GOES “Oh if you likes girls and boys that means you are bi not queer”.

 First things first- 1. who are you to tell me what i identify as🧍🏿‍♀️😀I’m sorry last time I checked, you generally don’t understand what umbrella terms are. 2. WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFF WHAT THE ACTUAL FRICKING FUCK I WILL MAKE SURE YOU BASH YOUR PINKIE TOE EVERY MONDAY YOU WAKE UP. And 3rd of all-WHAT??!?!? Are you even hearing yourself speak?????? Like generally asking. In that very moment I had become a heterophobe. Did I ignore her? Yes. What is with hets not understanding anything??? Do I have to give a book for you to understand society ignores the lgbtq+ community or do i have to the extra mile and explain it in dumb dumb form?????? JUST GENERALLY ASKING. It’s not hard respecting what I refer to myself as... You have to understand me, just respect my preferences. Next challenge is explaining why I don’t mind any pronouns people use on me. 

Another thing that got on my nerves today is😆😜✨English resit classes💕💖 😍🥰 I’ve already done the exam in the first November and all I have to do is wait till January for results. So why do I have to still go to the classes? And let’s say that I did fail, the next one is in July. Just to clarify, for the preparations for the exam was rushed. We weren't given a mock in between and how do you expect students who haven’t been in school for over 6 months to do a test??? Yes I completely understand that it is best that we stay in English as a class but why? We can simply catch up those two months of work with 6 months of work spread out evenly. And on top of that we can also have a mock in between in addition to understanding which questions we are weak at. 

The main problem of these English resit classes is the timing. WHY ARE MAJORITY OF THE LESSONS DURING 6TH PERIOD. All students in the class are also film students. The subject we take is very practical and editing will take up to more than 2 hours depending on the duration of each video. For us who have only recently starting learning how to use the editing program THIS DRAGSSSS ON. Our film teacher only allows to come during 6th periods and where do the EngR classes lie? 6th period. Do you see the problem?

Another problem is that our subjects we take are heavily coursework-based. This means hours, I mean HOURS required to complete over 12 pages worth of coursework. It took me 12 pages to finish one section😃😃with a lack of sleep that came with it. Science really said 2 for the price of 1. In a nutshell the cycle goes as followed: EngR->coming home later than usual ->less time to scream into my pillow every day->less time to unwind myself and relax->less time taken to sleep due to late nights->comes to school tired->lack of sleep leads to a lack of focus during classes->will probably knock out during a class->no work produced-> goes home tired->sleeps immediately without doing work->work not finished->trouble with teachers I COULD GO ONNNNNN . And that’s on ☆*: English resits:*☆ 

See I would complain to my mum about it, but she’d literally side with the teacher. Is she an enemy during situations like this? Yes. Professional guilt tripper? Yes. I seriously not kidding when I say she is one heck of a guilt tripper. During parents evenings, she’d pull the “ I work so late and when I come back she is not doing any of her work and blah blah she doesn't do anything she is always on her phone yadadadadah”. This is coming from the person who one of many reasons I cry so much lately. She does not care for me. That’s an exaggeration- more of: I stay in the living room, sleeps at irregular times, never knows what I’m doing in my room when I’m doing work, gun to my head making do something in the healthcare industry, MAIN REASON WHY I’M NOT EMOTIONALLY STABLE and I can go on and on and OOONNNNN. 

I generally want to kill myself. Life is just too exhausting at this point. I don’t self-harm because I hate inflicting pain on myself. If the day comes when I start cutting myself, then I’ve probably lost all hope of living. 

I’ll end this here before I start having meltdowns and continuous breakdown of tears. I’d talk more about this but I need to sleep

[mintchocolateleaves]

Law Unto Themselves (4/??)

Summary: Akako receives a visit from KID and is given a request. Dark!AU where the good guys are the bad guys, and vice versa.

[Beginning]     [Previous Chapter]

When it comes to information gathering and computer hacking, there's only two people worth paying in Tokyo.

All the others will work if faced with intimidation tactics and blackmail, but Koizumi Akako and her partner... well, they only work when there's money involved. Maybe they can't be intimidated because they're also information brokers, but there's never been an instance where they've been forced to work without pay or to give up secrets unwillingly.

So, as soon as KID comes through into the bar she runs – WitchCraft – Akako has to swallow the words 'wallet out first', each word slithering back down her throat like ink. It's tasteless, almost disgusting, but they've got a certain... clause to their business that makes KID's situation different to the others.

Instead of saying anything, Akako pours him a drink – nothing alcoholic, he's driving and needs to get home to Aoko-chan soon – dropping two ice cubes into the glass and splashing lemonade onto the bar. Bubbles burn against her hand, but it's not painful, not the way hellfire and acid are, so she doesn't think twice about it.

KID drops into a stool as she pushes the glass over, offers her one of his most charming grins, (which means that not only does he want something, he wants it quickly), and sips at his lemonade without breaking eye contact. Akako almost wants to snatch the glass back, and throw it at his smug face.

She doesn't.

“Can I get an ice cream?” He asks, and Akako's eyelid twitches. She's surprised she's not throttled him yet – and then she reminds herself: the clause. A mutual decision between her and her partner and for every moment she's been glad it's in place, she's also wanted to redact it and burn the unwritten contract to ashes.

“We're in a bar, Kaito-kun,” Akako says, and she's glad they've reached a point where he doesn't glare every time she uses his given name, it almost makes her feel giddy. “Does it look like we have fucking ice cream here?”

“Is that a no?”

Akako squints, “there's some up in the office. If you want it that badly, you can go up yourself.” She pauses, eyes glancing towards the dance floor where a couple of foreigners are dancing a lot more promiscuously than she'd anticipated. She'll have to cut them off soon, before they become complete messes. “What are you really here for?”

“I have a disc, but it's encrypted. I need you to unlock it.”

Akako shrugs her shoulders. All of the equipment is up in the offices, and since she's waiting for one of her bartenders to come back from their break she can't exactly leave their newbie by himself yet.

“How soon do you need it?” She says, which is as close to a 'yes, I'll do it' as she'll ever come to saying. If she can get to the computers then she can start – but well, she doesn't think that KID knows enough about hacking to understand that things like this actually do take time. It's not like she can just hard break an encryption, it'd take years if she goes about it that way...

“How does an hour sound?” KID asks, and this time Akako does lean forward, snatching the glass from his hand and pouring it away into the sink. She places it back on the counter, glares across at him. “I take it an hour is an insult?”

“Hacking isn't as easy as typing a little bit of code and expecting everything to unravel,” Akako says, “but we'll see what we can do.”

KID jerks around, and Akako smirks as she watches him search for her other half. It's almost comical, and she has to suppress a laugh, mainly because KID's always been a performer, and performers get antsy whenever their audience don't respond the way they'd planned.

“If you're looking for Saguru-kun,” Akako says, clicking her tongue, “he's in the office. If you wait for one of my staff to get back, we'll go up and bother him together.”

When he turns back, his lips are pressed into a thin line. He's not Hakuba Saguru's biggest fan, but he does respect him. There's distaste there, at having to ask Saguru for help, and Akako almost revels in seeing the expression instead of a grin, purely because it's real and it's raw.

“Unless,” Akako raises an eyebrow, “you'd like to go up without me?”

A shake of his head. KID leans forward against the bar, pushes the glass back towards her and says, “as long as I'm not waiting too long. Aoko will worry.”

It takes fifteen minutes of waiting, but eventually her staff member does finish her break. It really shouldn't be so long, Akako thinks, but one look at the break roster shows that her bartender is actually back ten minutes earlier than expected.

Akako shrugs it off with a half-hearted smile, sends KID a look for him to follow after he and makes her way over to his side of the bar. Then, she throws off the slight apron she's wearing, folding it over her arm. It's a fluid movement, as she walks, shadowed by the thief.

“I've still got some things I need to do as well,” Akako says, as KID falls into step beside her, the two of them making their way to the back, where the offices are situated, “but I'll offer whatever help I can while you explain. We do need to check our books before we close tonight though, so that's my priority.”

“It must be a pain running this place,” KID says after a moment, which... Isn't exactly false. It's not true either, not by a long shot, and Akako saves the response that she actually enjoys running a business, half because she knows he doesn't care, the other half because it's something she wants to keep secret.

Instead, she hums – a sound that's not quite a confirmation, but not disapproval either.

“I'm glad you're here tonight though,” KID continues after a moment, as if her silence isn't a request for him to quit talking. Akako doesn't know whether she loves him or hates him; The emotions twist and mix into one another. “I'm not dressed for the casino.”

“You know that the casino is Saguru's domain,” Akako sighs.

“And yet,” KID says, “he's here.”

This time, she can't resist the smirk that rises to her face. Seriously – who does Kuroba think he's dealing with? He's visiting the best informants in Tokyo and he's wondering why they're both in the same place at once? There's only one answer to that:

Him.

“We had a feeling you might visit soon,” Akako says, as she opens the door to the office. She offers another smirk, “we can tell the future you know, I'm a witch.”

She's not but well... with the right amount of hallucinogens and alcohol mixing into the bar, she might as well be. And with the right sources, the right information, it's not difficult to predict future events. It's why she works well alongside Saguru – mixing logic and magic together leaves them both at the top of the metaphorical food chain in Tokyo.

“A witch, huh?” KID mutters, “sounds fitting.”

It's difficult to decide whether she should be insulted or complimented. Shelving it away for later consideration, she steps inside the office, waiting until KID's stepped inside to close the door behind him. It closes with a click, leaving them in a artificially lit room.

It's not much different to a regular office: There are file cabinets in the far right corner, and a desk with paper stacked on the side. Work schedules are scattered around the middle of the desk, around the monitor and maybe Akako is a bit messy but she's efficient.

“I thought it was about time for you to show up,” Saguru says, from where he's searching through the cabinets. The cabinets all have files, information that they've printed out for clients who'll be interested, but most of their information is kept on USB sticks that they wear on their person at all times. “Tea?”

Beside her KID tenses. The tension is palpable, easily sliced into and Akako leans forward to click on the kettle that Saguru has brought, for something to do.

“Tea would be nice,” She says, “I'll make gyokuro, do you think that'll be sweet enough for your taste, KID?”

She turns, and receives a nod. KID slumps forward, throwing himself down onto one of the couches in the middle of the room. There are two, positioned opposite one another with a coffee table between them. By the time she's poured the tea for the three of them, Saguru has gathered a file from the cabinet, and has thrown it on the coffee table.

Akako doesn't need to ask which it is.

KID scoops it up as she places the cups down onto the table, opens the file to the first page. He pauses, glances up at them both as Akako settles next to Saguru on the seat.

“What the hell is this?”

“Masuyama Kenzo's phone records.” Saguru says, “all the calls he made from his mobile and house phone in the past three months. Who he called, and for how long. You should've interrogated him before shooting him, you know.”

“What does it matter who he spoke to?” KID grumbles, “all we need to worry about is what he knew. Not who knows what.”

Akako sighs, picks up her cup, blowing at steam to cool it down. She takes a sip of her drink, leans it on her knee as she says, “you're usually so smart. I guess this is why you're not an informant. Look at the second page, third from the bottom.”

KID turns the page, scowls at the paper. He looks up, “Why the hell would Pisco be phoning an American number...? I take it you guys have looked into it?”

“Naturally,” Saguru says, pulling his phone from his pocket. He unlocks it with his fingerprint, swipes at his screen to pull up a picture. He turns it to show KID, the photograph depicting a blonde American woman with glasses framing her face. “Starling Jodie. She's an FBI agent working in Japan. Her official records say she's working as an English teacher while taking a holiday from the force.”

“Let me guess,” KID says, glancing at the photograph, memorising the lines of her face, the crinkle between her brows, “the FBI records say differently.”

“Exactly,” Akako says, “that, mixed with the fact that she's talking to Masuyama, means that you've got yet another organisation on your back.”

Reaching his hand into his jacket pocket, KID pulls out a disc. He passes it over to Akako, narrowing his eyes as she takes it. He says, “So they've obviously got something concrete to get the FBI involved then. We need to read into this disc then.”

“The disc that Gin was asking for?” Saguru asks, as Akako places her cup back onto the table, making her way over to her desk. Opening the disc drive, she places it inside, sitting down on the chair to glance at the monitor.

“How- You know what, I'm not gonna ask how you know. How long do you think it'll take to get into that disc?”

Saguru stands too, bringing his tea with him, where he stands behind Akako, glancing at the monitor as she pulls up lines of code. It'd not taken either long to learn to read binary code, and sometimes looking at ones and zeros seems more natural than at letters.

“Anywhere between seconds,” Akako says, “and never. We'll text you when we've unlocked it.”

KID crosses his arms, opens his mouth to speak but ultimately, says nothing.

“Anyway, don't you need to burn down Masuyama's house?” Saguru adds, “I thought Kudo gave you orders for it.”

“I couldn't exactly burn the place down until I knew I had the right disc, could I?” KID sighs, shakes his head. “I guess I'll just have to drive back now. If it's not the real thing, you'll get into it by the time I get to his house again, right?”

Once again, Akako wants to hit him for thinking hacking is as easy as that. Instead, they both nod – hacking is always easier when no one's around trying to distract you – and tell him they'll be in touch.

“Oh, and Kuroba?” Hakuba says, as KID stands, readying himself to leave. “Use the fact that Starling is a teacher to your advantage. There's a teacher conference in a few weeks, involving both your school district and hers. Maybe it'd be beneficial to actually go to one for a change.”

“Make contact with a FBI agent, huh?” KID says, “I'll sign up as soon as I know what's on that disc. It'd be stupid to go in without knowing how far they've gotten.”

It's not until he's closed the door behind him, that Akako realises his tea has gone untouched.

[Next Chapter]

[assilxm]

self-reflection

i am broken | i am nothing | i don’t want to exist

7 august 2018

i had a particularly bad day today. it seemed like the cherry on top of the many bad days i’ve been having these past couple of months. through inference of my previous journals, there seemed to be one common question i would constantly ask the universe - “what did i do to deserve this?”

my battle with depression and anxiety sprung when i was 13, after being continuously bullied in primary school by the people i called my closest friends. when i was 11 to 12, i was exposed to constant harassment and bullying. some examples of this included harsh cyber-bullying on my then blog’s chatbox, vandalism on my desk and property, abandonment and isolation caused by my ‘friends’ turning against me and spreading false rumours about me. i was confused, hurt and deemed fragile by my teachers who saw and understood what was happening to me, but did nothing to stop it, simply sending me to the school counsellor weekly for sessions to cure my ‘sadness’. the feeling of resentment to myself never went away from then on. it just kept on building.

when i was 13, i went to secondary school and found myself new friends, whom i am thankful to have in my life today. i never went back to the toxic group of friends i had before, and vowed to never let myself go through something like that again. i was trying my best to take control of my life again, to forgive and forget. little did i know what was to come next. i was 13, surrounded by my cca mates in a big group, when i found out that i was being ridiculed by some of the senior classes for videos i did on youtube when i was in primary school. mind you, these were harmless videos of me doing covers of songs as my form of self-therapy then, and they weren’t intended to be found. so imagine the shock i had when one of my seniors laughed in my face as she was telling the story of how her class found my videos and watched it collectively, publicly making fun of me with their teacher present, laughing along. i was so embarrassed, but i acted as if it didn’t completely destroy me then and there. i just couldn’t see how people saw my misery as something funny. i still don’t. when i went home, i deleted my youtube account and started cutting myself for the first time. i did not want to go to school the next day. i was so ashamed. i continued cutting on and off for the next couple of years, until i officially stopped last year. 

when i was 15, my life was going as smoothly as it could capably go for someone as damaged like me then. i had a good group of friends, was topping the class in english and literature, enjoyed my cca immensely and became vice-president of the student council. i was starting to build myself up to become a fully-functioning person again. that was until my life backfired when (name redacted), a teacher who never liked me because of my academic status, decided to stir up trouble for me. context: she didn’t like the fact that i was vice-president of the school as i was in normal academic, and believed that people ‘as slow as me’ shouldn’t be in top tiers of leadership. it didn’t help that i help a leadership role in the cca she was in charge of as well, but that’s a story for another day. so anyway, long story short. she caused a ruckus, brought my parents into a small matter and had the school board shorten my leadership status. it was so dumb, that even the disciplinary mistress was on my side and deemed the punishment unnecessary. before this, i was cutting on and off, and could actually go weeks without having anxiety attacks. but this broke me. if you knew me back then, you would’ve known how hard i worked to get my leadership position, and how much it meant to me to be looked up to by my peers. i’m not saying this for the attention, it legit made me happy. it was all i had going for me. something i was doing right. and to have that snatched from under my feet over absolutely nothing broke me. the days after, i was forced to go to school assisted with a suicidal mentality on constant. i carried around a rosary with me in my pocket and prayed many times during the day for god to just take away the feeling of despair and the pain i felt internally. i closed off from everyone, except the friends i trusted enough to tell what happened. i lost myself that day. the cutting got worse.

after secondary school, i went to poly and made a couple of great friends, whom i also treasure dearly till this day. however, poly was the time period in which my depression and anxiety worsened. it did not help that i had also found myself to be (redacted - only some of ya’ll know this and i’m not about to out myself here). i was conflicted as to who i was as a person, and believed myself to be an utter failure to my friends and my family. i contemplated suicide almost everyday those 4 years. i self-harmed. i cried. so many times. 

when i was about 19, my parents found out just how bad my mental health was. i had also officially come out and told them about the way i was feeling. i took medication, vitamins, and relied solely on television and music to get me through the wave of despair and self-destruction. my parents ended up becoming one of my biggest supporters to keep my head above the water.

when i was 20, i broke up with my boyfriend over the guilt of dragging him into my business with mental health. it was taking a toll on him, and on our relationship, and i knew i just didn’t have the strength to carry on a relationship so heavily one-sided. it wasn’t fair to him, or me. my mental health was destroying us both, and i knew he deserved better than what i was giving him. after this, i was lulled into a state of nothingness. i don’t even know how to describe it. i would cry. i would just stare. i would retract into my shell. i couldn’t even bring myself to talk about it. i was broken. and then i moved to melbourne.

since being here, i’ve been trying to find my ground. the depression and anxiety’s still very much here, and the friends i hang out with here know about my condition. i am still ashamed of what i am, and what i have. but i know that i can’t make it go away, that it’s always going to be with me. last year, i made the promise to myself to stop self-harming. so far i’ve only relapsed once, but i’m still going strong on that promise. i have been having a lot more attacks though. they’ve become way more public than i’d like, which leads to a lot of randoms asking me why i am the way i am. why i’m always so ‘sad’. well, the answer is, i can’t tell you why. i am not sad. i am depressed. when i have an attack, all i can think about are all my faults and the fact that i would rather die than to feel this way in the moment. i will say things that will scare normal people, like it did before. i will treat myself badly. i won’t have control.

all i ask is that you, my friends, don’t treat me any different. i don’t even know what i’m looking to get out of writing this post, but after the day i’ve had, i just had to type my feelings out. i need to get this off my chest. i need you to understand that i am not a victim. i did not choose to be this way. i am not coming out with my mental health status to ‘romanticise’ it. i just need a safe space to exude my consciousness as a means of cleansing. 

in the mean time, i will promise to try my best to keep my head up. i will try my best to maintain a good level of satisfaction and dissatisfaction in my life. i will try to give life a shot. i even bought expensive anxiety reducing sprays from perfect potion as an attempt to control this. i am trying. 

thank you.