#stupid vent but I hate how much everything has to be about the Americans and we have to prostrate to them lest we be labelled evil

[thisismycorneroftheinternet]

Americans don't be egocentric on the internet challenge (impossible)

[anendoandfriendo]

Actually, just, in general, we've noticed people have this impression that we are Very Nice People who Do Nice Stuff and, like, if we may vent for one second: no, we are not.

Like. Someone will be fronting and then we'll look at each other in headspace, and someone else will switch because both of us agree someone else was being rude to us and then we'll freak out over something stupid because we're good at jumping to conclusions. Or someone else here has issues being in large crowds of people and can't handle more than six minutes in large crowds. We will call someone "bitch" just after turning a corner within their earshot because they were rude to us, and one of the Jade Leeches will gaslight the fuck out of them so we may still keep our job (or, as we put it, "don't be an asshole to retail workers"). We hide from people and we hide things from people and don't tell people everything becase we don't know if we can trust them (and like, have you seen how much we talk about ourselves on here???? Yeah).

We are not obvious about it. We ate not subtle about it, either, but we are not blatantly waving around this behavior like a lava red flag.

We hate living with other people because they fuck up the arrangement of our kitchen and create too many dishes and intrude into the life we've built for ourselves too much. They talk too loud and smoke weed and fight each other all of the time and touch our shoulders without thinking when they try to say thanks for helping them, or whatever the hell it is this time that set us off. We dream of the day we may buy ourselves a house, not because of the propagandist "american dream," but so we may know peace and stability, for once in our goddamned lives.

We still jump down peoples' throats at labels they use because, if they use X and X is just next to Y, then those are practically the same thing with no nuance right??? We do not want fascists in our home. We don't want them to exist at all. How can someone be neutral about our existence?? How will that not slide into very blatant fascism? Obviously this is not how anything works and in the offline world we do not have the time or ability to back off, like, 90% of the time we think offhand. If we had that chance we might be able to understand some people mean it to mean "too uninformed to say anything," or "I don't want to be hatecrimed," or whatever the fuck else that is, for certain, not what we think it probably is at first glance.

Like there is one person we might be able to tolerate we think that would be open to the idea of living together with us, and we have known them for literal years. We have a couple of people online we consider good friends. We don't know if this is necessarily "good" but we like it, it's more manageable like that.

We just, aren't agreeable with most folks.

But we still try to be decent folks 'cause like, we don't know how we can grow vegetables and we need to get our coffee grounds from somewhere, and that isn't really love but it's mutually beneficial to everyone for us to not fucking kill people, yeah? And most people likely are just trying their best like we are, yeah?

We apologize too much and we're quiet when we don't know you (unless we're at work, we're either overdoing the niceness or being LOUD because the environment is LOUD then yeah?) but honestly, some of this is also because it's probably better for everyone involved if we don't get loud, puffy, bratty, demanding, in your face, or otherwise end up socially beating someone into submission the way we have done our current, endomisic coworkers.

This particular space is where we place all of that energy. So is fighting (lol) our endomisic transmisic coworkers. Elaborating on something we have thought about even if it seems like the same exact point to everyone else, because something seems missing and we just need that one thing, is also where we place all of that energy. But we don't want everything to be a so-called "coping skill" or otherwise the neurotypicals win, so our friend shows us painting and explains it's a coping skill for her, so as much as we liked painting we don't touch a bottle ever again (so the neurotypicals don't win). We never write anymore despite sorely needing to (so the neurotypicals don't win). We need to, one day, piss on and deface our abusers' graves (so the neurotypicals don't win and they are enraged into doing something about these people and their families and the structures allowing them to do it, because holy fuck are we tired).

People are stupid. We are fucking allergic to stupid. We need order and people need order but that would go against the very ideology we are trying to support, and in fact would play into the hands of the very people who would use these feelings to murder us and our very few cherished ones. So if we can fight against our worse nature for our entire lives we think this asshole customer can stand to force themselves into an Autistic Plural social norm twenty seconds and use their fucking brain cells.

It's complicated. It's messy. It's probably from trauma but we aren't always sure of that. There is no word in the english dictionary to describe the ways we have felt about this, and the lowest we have ever gotten on a standardized language comprehension test was existing within the 96th percentile.

We don't have some snappy way of saying that people can be decent even if they aren't good people, or that your online presence can be just as good of a reflection of yourselves as your offline one (if not more accurate sometimes, in some cases like ours where we are capable of actively curating our spaces better), that when we say "we have no choice but to let Hope get up (bloodied, scraped knees and all, tooth knocked out) because if we let her die then we have nothing to actually live for," we are entirely serious and we would become a depression potato.

This is NOT about anyone who is here, we are, as we have said, just a very frustrating system to deal with in general and it is difficult to be our friend in an offline setting lolsob.

[hairenya]

The most stupid concept in American politics is constitutional originalism. Like it would be funny if it didn’t do so much damage to the nation as a whole.

You’re telling me the constitution (which has amendments btw, I can’t stress enough how it has amendments) can only be interpreted to mean what the framers originally intended in the exact words it’s written in and can never be changed. Notice how these people always seem to think the framers would agree with them even when we have letters explicitly to the contrary. But even done in good faith it’s still a stupid concept. Tell me you’re incapable of independent thought and problem solving without telling me. Did you also ask your mom’s permission for everything as a child? Do you need your dad to give you advice on whether or not to eat a grape? Like it’s such a cowardly cop out for people who are too afraid to take ownership of their own opinions and responsibility for their own rulings.

“But the founding fathers”- I hate to be the one to tell you this but they’re dead babe. That’s how the passage of time works. They are d-e-a-d dead. Jefferson is scrubbing a toilet with his toothbrush in Hell. John Adams is getting drunk with the angels. Alexander Hamilton was most recently reincarnated as a squirrel and Ben Franklin won’t stop sexually harassing people via mirror writing at seances. Do you want us to Ouija board them every time there’s a court case? If so Hasbro better release an updated version with caller ID so Dick Cheney doesn’t hide in the vents pretending to be the voice of god to spark a war again. For people who constantly yell about dead people voting, you seem to think we should let dead people make policy.

Of course, they get around this by claiming the constitution was “divinely inspired”. Okay main character syndrome. I don’t think you should take governing advice from a guy who flooded the earth because he had a temper tantrum but it sure would explain a lot. If we’re going to base our government on a narcissistic autocrat who doesn’t tolerate dissent, may I suggest Stalin instead? He doesn’t have quite as high a death toll as God (he’s only human after all) but at least we’d maybe get healthcare out of it. Plus while I realize it wouldn’t help the country any, putting dead leaders in glass coffins would be personally beneficial to my morale. “Jesus is love”- No sweetie that’s Shrek but okay sure. I’m down. Let’s base our government on history’s most controversial hippie. Oh sorry, not what you had in mind?

The worst part is that this idea that the constitution can only mean exactly what it explicitly says nothing more or less with no room for common sense, critical thinking, or interpretation has been expanded to apply to almost every text. It trickles down. When the people in charge of educational policy can’t read between the lines, you get an entire generation who struggles with the idea that not everything has to be explicitly stated. That you can interpret things without spoon feeding. That an author not having a footnote disclaimer decrying the actions of their character as immoral does not, in fact, mean they condone irl murder.

[chocolvte]

NCT REACTION — the 127 members’ best friend comes out to them as lesbian

REQUEST — hey! if you're taking requests, just wondering if you could do an nct reaction where the reader comes out as a lesbian to them?

LISTEN TO — love so sweet by cherry bullet

TAEIL

the most supportive of besties!

he seems like the type who would buy you the entire target price collection out of very misplaced but still golden hearted love <3

like he really doesn’t know anything about being gay (well . . debatable but let’s not start that here) but he wants you to know that he will always love you no matter what

he listens to all of your struggles

and he does his best to offer good advice, even though he doesn’t always know what to do

JOHNNY

he’s that friend that you have a secure enough friendship that he can make fun of you about it and you know he doesn’t mean it

like you’ll tell him about a new girl you’re talking to and he’s like: oh cute! when is she moving in?

and you’re like: shut up 😠😤 . . but also i’m moving in with her on tuesday so i need you to help me lift boxes 😌😚

at the end of the day, he’s a good best friend who would happily gut punch anyone who has anything negative to say to you

TAEYONG

i think he would feel so honored that you told him. like he makes you feel comfortable?? to the point that you told him this deeply personal thing about yourself?? he feels all happy and glowy about it inside for daysssss.

and of course he hates it whenever you struggle with anything

so hearing about any negative or just plain evil comments that you get from others makes his heart hurt

he’s your rock, always there for you when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent with.

YUTA

would definitely take this as an opportunity to tell you in great detail about all of his latest ventures with his love interests

honestly prob opens up to about being bicurious or something lmao

like i can definitely see the two of you having big queer bestie vibes

absolutely no romantic love between you, but a very strong bond. nothing is breaking y’all apart because you know everything there is to know about each other

DOYOUNG

he seems like he would already be a great ally and does his absolute best to be really supportive of you!

he would even go to a book store or do research online about the LGBTQ+ community so that he can be a better friend

no one would be a better bestie than doyoung

he’s also always there for the tea whenever you have a talking stage to dissect. he wants all of the screenshots, all of the play by plays. he’s down to talk it out for hours.

JAEHYUN

i think jaehyun would listen very attentively and try to be very calm and kind in this moment because he knows you’re being vulnerable.

he wants you to know that you can trust him.

and so he would do his best to listen well and respond in the way you need him to

because honestly he doesn’t care too much about your sexuality. to him, you’re just y/n and no matter who you date, he’ll always love you.

JUNGWOO

his response would definitely be a giant hug and him telling you how proud he is of you about a million times

bc he really is so happy that you told him

but it prob wouldn’t affect your friendship that much in the long run

y’all keep it moving and just continue to hang out and do the things you always do

but you’re definitely closer now that you know he wouldn’t hate you if he knew (an irrational fear you’d been harboring for a while)

MARK

i think mark would be confused a little

big “i thought you were american” vibes

but he’s still got the spirit, like he loves you as a person and so anything that makes you happy also makes him happy for you.

once this new info has processed, he’s back to being your best friend again like always

he seems like he’d be kind of stupid sometimes like if he found out another person he knew was a lesbian he’d be like “omg y’all should date” but his heart is still in the right place 🥴

HAECHAN

with hyuck, i think coming out would be a really lighthearted thing. he’d prob make some dumb gay joke and, later, text you that he loves you just so you know he does take you seriously even if he doesn’t always show it.

and then it’s project matchmaker immediately

he texts you every day with a new girl he’s found for you to date.

“you WILL get a girlfriend, y/n, and i WILL be the one who makes it happen.”

but you know that if you ever actually did get a girl, he’d whine and complain that he’s been replaced and you’ve forgotten all about him (jokingly ofc but he’s still an idiot LMAO)

[staticscreenwriting]

Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.

Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.

A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.

This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.

He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.

In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.

Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him. 

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.

A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.

“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do. 

“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “ 

“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “ 

To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.

“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.” 

“ Old tattoo? “ 

Billy swallows audibly “scars.” 

He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.

“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “

“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “

It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.

“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer. 

“ Dr. Pepper? “ 

“ Good choice. Coming right up. “ 

She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window. 

The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down. 

“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “

Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole. 

Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?

“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”

“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”

There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.

“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”

Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days. 

“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”

“You miss California?”

“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”

She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head. 

“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”

He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.

His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.

Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -

“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.

“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”

“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”

“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”

“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”

Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.

“Oh you have no idea.”

As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.

“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.

“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”

Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”

He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.

The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips. 

“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”

Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”

He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.

“Oh hey, you.”

“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”

But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself. 

“It’s fine. No bother.”

Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.

A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?” 

There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“

Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.

Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.

His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.

“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …

“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”

Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.

“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“ 

“I love it!”

Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.

“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?” 

“Sure, let’s do it!”

The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.

“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”

He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now. 

“I’ll be fine.”

And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.

He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility. 

“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”

Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”

“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”

“ Almost 20.”

“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”

Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.

“ How old are you?”

“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”

“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “

It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.

“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”

“Yeah?”

She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.

“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.

“Okay. I’m done!”

There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.

“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.

“Absolutely!”

His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.

His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.

He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.

But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?

So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing. 

Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.

“I take it you like it?”

“I love it.”

And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.

She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating

“I can not thank you enough.”

“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”

He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.

They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.

She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken. 

“They’re burn scars.”

Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.

“Huh?”

“My scars. They are burn scars.  Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “

For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.

“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “

And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand. 

As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.

And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

tw/venting

so everything’s bothering me again. one, school, to be expected, i hate school. literally would rather just not do it whatsoever. the thought of having to go through 8 more fucking months of near pointless information makes me want to go into hypersleep, and come back when i can leave and get a job and not have to do school anymore. i dont even need pre-cal?? I plan to do what I want with my future, and thrive in a business that I created, or enjoy working for, not slaving away to the machine that is capitalism. i dont want to be a doctor, or a CEO, or anything like that. i just want to be happy, at whatever job I’m at.

and im not getting “dragged” per se, into fandom shit, but it really just stresses me out seeing people leaving, or being unhappy. and still not being able to get all of my feelings across the way. hurting someone’s feelings is the last thing i want to do, but withholding how i feel about certain things hurts me a lot in the long run. I was doing just fine, but it seems like I keep getting hit with blow after blow. it makes me not trust people who i feel like i should. and i hate that. and i try my best to be respectful, and be nice, but I just feel like i’m being looked down upon.

georgia is the state with the highest COVID rates, or one of the states. my city was on national fucking news, CNN, to talk about how fucked we are. the only two times i’ve seen my city on the fucking news were both times talking about COVID, and high rates of deaths. and low vaccination rates. i dont get it. i really dont. it’s not that hard to go and get a fucking shot that’s free to save not only your life, but your neighbor’s life, and everyone else’s. and people are taking fucking horse medicine to get away from taking the fucking vaccine. it’s FREE for a reason. people are just so fucking stupid sometimes. what does it take to save your fellow fucking neighbor? or hell, since us americans are so fucking selfish, YOURSELF??? i dont get it.

and my dad also fucking pissed me off too. he’s fully vaccinated. so he decided to go out of state to go see a football game with a group of friends, who run a social club. they go to every football game the local team goes to, but im really upset. do they have no respect for the worldwide PANDEMIC at hand? there’s people dying day in and day out, and that’s what they do in response? go away and cheer on a team, and completely disregard everything else. i just cant anymore. why would he do that? put himself and his family in danger? i hate that. i cant do that. i refuse to. i cant willingly put myself at risk of literal death. and he masks up, and socially distances, but i just cant see why he would do that. or why the team would do that. people are dying, and you’re out here just?? going out.

i feel this weird sense haunt me when i think about people going out and getting back to their lives. i mean sure, go out and have fun, but there’s still so much going on right now. i really just cant see how they do that. and schools reopening and all that. my county does school on a case by case basis. like i mentioned earlier, georgia has the HIGHEST rate of COVID, literally every single county has high rates. and kids are still in school? people are still traveling? not wearing masks. i fucking hate it here. yes, go have fun, but people are DYING? i dont get it. sure, you’re doing it safely, but i just dont know. maybe i’m bitter because i literally have close to no people to go out and see because all of my IRL friends go to in-person school, and i just dont feel comfortable being around them with such high death rates and such.

also i got some like...really potentially bad news from a close friend that i cant even talk about so thats great.

im like really touch-starved, and im sure that im losing it at this point. which is everybody, i guess? i just feel really shitty close to all the time, not being able to go and see people, or do fun stuff.

nobody talks about a lot of the bad stuff in being a teenager, because it’s all glamourized. im not sure if it’s normal or not, because nobody fucking talks about it, but ive got bad anxiety, paranoia, intrusive thoughts, suicidal ideation, the whole fucking nine yards. but it’s all partying and “teens need to stop doing this and that” and i know that social media is a lie, i get that. but outside of that, nobody talks about how fucked up some things really are. or maybe it’s just because it’s not normal whatsoever to feel this bad, and have this many bad thoughts, and all that. im convinced that all this anxiety isnt normal (i mean, i do have an anxiety disorder, but y’know) the intrusive thoughts, all that. i really just dont think enough people talk about mental health, still, after so much has been done and talked. especially not teens, and definitely not teens of color. it makes me feel even more alone in the struggle to find out what’s normal and what isnt.

society doesn’t give a shit about teenagers, this much i know. i never see people talking good about us. it’s always “there’s a new tiktok trend about kids doing xyz” and “teens need to stop being in blank fandom space”. and it hurts my feelings because i feel like there’s a lot of good kids out there. but people are obsessed with painting us as bad people, and monsters, and it makes me feel like there’s no potential anywhere. for any type of change. because nobody thinks that we can do anything but fuck everything up colossally. so those are my thoughts on that.

i wish i had something good to say, but i really don’t. i want to punch a wall and scream at the top of my lungs that i literally hate everything about everything, even if it isnt true. i feel trapped. that i cant say everything i feel to the people who matter most. and it’s not my fault, i know it isnt. but thats not stopping me from being in this tiny bubble.

[letskidnapsenpai]

Hi boo, I'm here for an MHA matchup if you don't mind 😗 (No gender preference)

I'm an afab trans man who uses he/him pronouns and I'm 19 (and never fucking learned how to read). I'm bisexual demi romantic and I am professionally diagnosed with schizo-affective, chronic PTSD, depression and bipolar, and as such I take a lot of medications. I'm a Muslim, Leo sun/Aquarius moon/Cancer Venus/Sagittarius Mars/Virgo rising.

My hobbies include drawing and writing, playing Pokemon and Animal Crossing (and other video games), watching horror movies, cooking and cleaning, fantasizing about romantic situations, caring for my grandmother and doing my daily prayers.

My likes include tiny and baby animals, cute journals to write in, astronomy and astrology, plush toys (I own like 30 and I love them all) and mythology.

My dislikes involve being underestimated (specifically by my dad), loud crowds, events or items that trigger my illnesses, Endeavor (he reminds me somewhat of my dad), being left alone anywhere, a lot of my family members (they're all drunkards, drug abusers or both), people who don't look up their facts before trying to disprove me and unnecessary arguments and yelling, and math.

My habits are smoking cigarettes, scratching myself endlessly, bouncing my legs, binge eating, responding to texts out loud and constantly texting my friends as if I'm unaware they're getting tired of me lol.

Around new people I try to appear harmless but professional. When I'm comfortable with people I pull out the crude jokes, all my stuffed animals, every detail about my past and present, and discuss American politics. I like to play wrestle with my friends. When a real fight occurs however, I go all out. I once kicked the asses of three guys twice my size. My dad is a retired Navy Seal who taught me how to defend myself so I have him to thank for that. I tend to be the funny friend who does stupid shit to get a laugh out of people.

I tend to shut down when people get angry with me. There are times I feel hyper sexual and times I feel sex repulsed. I go far out of my way to prove myself to others that I'm not useless or deserve to be in my mom's shadow, but my dad can't overlook that he only compliments her and how hard she works because he's hopeful he'll get sex that night. It's difficult for me to open up to other people because I'm scared I'll get hurt. I never cry but it affects me greatly when my dad "jokes" about me being fat (as if he's any better than me). I'm simply tired of being the butt of his every joke. My brother is Autistic and my parents make excuses for him all the time to an unfair extreme, but never do the same for me.

Haha this kinda turned into a micro vent but oh well. I hope I didn't write too much and please have a great day! I love reading what you write daily.

Hiya 💖💫 I didn't write for him in a long time, so maybe he's a little bit out of character 🥺💖 The longer I was reading this, the more concerned for you I got, if you want to talk about something, you're always welcome to message me! 💫💖 I tried to avoid the topic of your religion and mental disorders, because it's something I don't know much about and I didn't wanted to get something wrong 🥺💖 Enjoy! 💖

My choice for you is... *drum roll* Dabi! And here's why:

• Dabi would accept all your mental disorders, he probably has few himself

• He'll find your drawings cool and he might even steal few to take into his room

• Hes used to Shigaraki playing games, so he doesn't mind that you do, as long as you give him attention when he wants

• He'll watch horror movie with you, so he can tease you if you get scared

• He's messy and he doesn't eat unless somebody gives him food or he's really starving, so it's good that you like cooking and cleaning

• He's not much of a romantic, but he cares for you and he'll try

• He doesn't care about what you believe in, he's atheist himself, but he doesn't say anything against your religion

• He might help you take care of your grandma sometimes, but since he's villain, he doesn't want her to recognize him

• He finds your collection of plush toys adorable and he gets steals you new one sometimes

• He'll also get you new journals, but he'll read what your write into them

• He also has problems with his father, so he fully understands you

• He hates being underestimated as much as you do, so another thing you two have in common

• He doesn't care about loud crowds, but he'll try to dodge them when he's with you

• He loves you even tho he's asshole so he'll do everything he can to not trigger your illnesses

• He's capable of arguing with anybody, but he'll try to not when he's with you

• He also smokes, so you two take smoke breaks together plus he's practically lighter, so you don't have to worry about carrying one with you

• He doesn't have any life, so he's free to text all day

• He finds amusing how appear quiet and collected at first, but you're badass

• You two go to missions together and then he brags about how good you're in a fight to everybody in lov

• Other members of lov also like you, Toga has crush on you and Shigaraki discusses and plays games with you

• Dabi and Toga might make little trip to visit your father, with knives.

• Dabi will asure you about how awesome you're

• You'll get all the love you deserve in lov and from Dabi

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “Death Takes a Holiday” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Azrael and Raphael are stuck trying to give relationship advice to a woman stuck in a literal Hallmark Christmas Movie, but she's just not getting the message. Raphael is having the time of his existence, but Azrael isn't too sure how much more Christmas cheer he can take. (2257 words)

Notes: Written for @theantichristmaszine 2020, and inspired by @dianacrimsonia's Ineffable Opposites au where Aziraphale is Azrael, the Angel of Death, and Crowley is the Archangel Raphael. Diana's art for this fic can be seen on their Insta: dianacrimsonia. Please go give them all the love :)

Read on AO3.

“So let me get this straight …” Azrael plants both hands on the table, staring down in frustration at the starry-eyed red-head in front of him “… you’re prepared to leave it all, your entire life, everything you’ve built from the ground up on this miserable cesspool of a planet … for love?”

A smile, serene in its decision, content with a shiny vision of the future, answers him before a single word slips past perky, coral-tinted lips. “Yes. I am.”

Azrael slaps the wood as he pushes himself upright. “That’s rubbish, that is.”

An amused tilt of the head sends crimson curls spilling over a narrow shoulder. “How can you possibly believe that? How can you go through life not realizing that love is the greatest God-given force in the universe?”

“How did he get you to do it? Hmm?” Azrael asks, purposefully dodging the question. “You’ve been here, what? Three days? A week tops? What magical spell did he cast that would lead you to make such an asinine decision?”

“Well … we went on a hayride,” manicured fingers count off, “we went Christmas tree shopping, watched the candy puller make candy canes, listened to carolers ... Oh! We had hot chocolate and then ...” A pause, followed by a dreamy sigh “… he kissed me. At this cafe. Right here at this picnic table, as a matter of fact.”

Azrael jerks his hands off the table top as if burned, scowling at the bench beneath his bent right knee as if it were diseased. “We had hot chocolate and then he kissed me,” he mimics, dreamy sigh and all. “You are, without a doubt, the most insufferable creature I have ever met! And if you had a clue who I play Pinochle with on Thursday nights, you’d know that that’s saying something.”

“In her defense, the hot chocolate here is very good,” Raphael offers, taking a careful sip of the steaming liquid in his own Frosty the Snowman mug.

Azrael’s eyes shift away from the infuriating woman sitting in front of him to the equally infuriating angel seated down the bench from him. “Please enlighten me, sunshine, on how you keep getting us into these unsavory situations.”

Raphael raises his eyes, countering Azrael’s glare with a mischievous grin as a rousing rendition of Jingle Bells - Azrael’s least favorite Christmas tune of all time - begins from out of nowhere. “I read. A lot.”

“I may have to confine your literary resources to picture books from now on.”

“We’re here because we’re needed,” Raphael explains to his unamused companion. “Obviously there’s something we need to accomplish. A message we need to send. It’s kind of what angels do during the holidays.”

“Seeing as we’re stuck in a movie on what’s apparently called The Hallmark Channel,” Azrael divines, squinting at a golden emblem that follows them around like a puppy no matter where they go, “I would say that part is accurate.” He turns back to the woman who has done nothing since the moment his attentions went elsewhere, as if she only exists when he’s interacting with her. And even though he’s an Angel of Death, regarded as one of the spookiest, most sinister omens in all of recorded history, it creeps him out.

“Does he have any investments?” Azrael implores, returning to their lost cause. “A retirement plan? A 401K?”

Sara shakes her head.

“Does he at least collect commemorative plates!?”

“Those things aren’t important to him,” she announces superiorly. “Besides, I have enough money socked away to take care of the both of us. We’ll want for nothing, as long as we have …”

“Love. Yeah. I get it. Probably what he’s counting on, the leech. Man almighty,” Azrael grumbles, running a hand down his face in frustration. “Unbelievable! This dillhole should be working downstairs with us!”

“Simon doesn’t want to raise his son around a den of corporate greed!” Sara argues passionately.

“Really?” Azrael scoffs. “What about a den of good schools and culture? Does he believe in those things?”

“All we need is love.”

“What you need, lady, I can’t seem to say out loud.”

“That’s because this movie is rated PG,” Raphael interjects. “You can’t curse here.”

“Pity. Give me exactly five seconds and I’ll make their ratings go through the roof.”

“More like in the toilet. Guidelines for these movies are extremely strict.” Raphael stirs his cocoa, staring wistfully into his cup. “Darling? You do believe in the power of love, don’t you?” he asks, a deep, abiding concern coloring his voice.

“Of course I believe in the power of love!” Azrael stares up at the too bright, too blue sky, mentally venting using every four-letter word he can think up. “But sometimes the power of stupidity is stronger!” He sighs, so long and hard it deserves its own backstory. “Look, lady, love is grand and all, but so is carving a name for yourself and being able to make your condo payments!”

“Love will provide,” is the only reply she gives him.

“This is a nightmare!” Azrael groans, taking a seat opposite his angel and burying his face in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Raphael says, gaining a chipper lilt and a gleeful little wiggle. “I’m having a grand time!”

“Yes, well, you’ve eaten seven Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer cookies, drunk three mugs of cocoa, and you bought a quilt!”

“It’s Amish! Hand stitched! Did you see the craftsmanship?”

“You won’t be able to take it with you,” Azrael points out in a taunting, sing-song way.

“The Hell I won’t,” Raphael murmurs, diving into the mound of marshmallows swimming at the top of his mug.

“This Holy Holiday Messenger gig is all well and good, but did you really have to go and get us stuck in an American movie?”

“I had no control over that, love. But look on the bright side (for you) - we’re not going to be here forever.”

“No?” Azrael blows out an incredulous breath through tightly pursed lips, producing a rude sound that turns a few heads. “It’s only going to feel like it.”

“The spell will wear off in twenty-four hours, I assure you. Which should give us plenty of time to …”

Azrael cuts Raphael off with a look that could melt lead. Raphael puts his hands up in surrender.

“Fine. Here - let me give it a go. Maybe all this needs is a touch of Grace.” Raphael scoots closer to Sara, who’s gazing blankly at a tall, overly decorated tree, with moony eyes. “Look, dear, as much as I hate to admit it, my gloomy but pragmatic friend is right.”

Sara turns on him, glaring like he just spit in her cocoa. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Azrael says. “Excuse me?”

“It seems as though you have just as much wrapped up in your life in New York as your young man does in his daydream of fixing up a run down horse ranch that he doesn’t even have the capital to purchase yet. If I were you, I would go home, back to your life and your job. And either the two of you work things out apart and see how it goes, or find someone whose ideals better line up with yours. Someone who is worthy of you, who wouldn’t ask you to give up everything to live here with him. Because love - true love, the kind of love that lasts - doesn���t come from the sacrifices others ask you to make. It’s about the sacrifices you’re willing to make for others, freely and unsolicited.”

Sara stares open-mouthed at the traitor sitting beside her. But as aghast as she appears, there’s a moment when both Raphael and Azrael think a light bulb has gone off. She’ll agree with them, thank them for their time and their sage advice, then be off, winging her way back to NYC. But after a few blinks, she slowly shakes her head, tsking with every turn of her neck. “You guys just don’t understand the meaning of Christmas.”

Raphael shrugs and slides back to his original seat. “Guess not.”

“Don’t fret, my pet,” Azrael teases. “You tried your best. Guess it wasn’t a matter of Grace after all. There’s no getting through to her, is there?”

“We don’t need to,” Raphael says, reconvening with his cocoa.

Azrael frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the person who needed that message has heard it, and has changed their mind about giving up everything for someone who isn’t willing to meet them half way.”

“Who was it?” Azrael asks, sweeping his gaze around, trying to spot the love lost soul in question.

“Someone out there.” Raphael gestures off to his right. “A real life person out in television land.”

Azrael grins at this turn of events, giddy with relief. “That’s … that’s wonderful! Now we can get the Heaven out of here!”

“Uh … n-no.” Raphael fidgets sheepishly with his mug. “I-I’m afraid we’re stuck here for the full twenty-four hours.”

“Wha---? How!? How can that be!? We fulfilled the requirements of the spell, didn’t we!?”

“Y-yes, but …”

“I know the rules behind these ultimatum locked spells! Once you fulfill your duty, then …” Struck by a sudden realization, Azrael turns wide, scolding eyes on his angel. “Raphael! What did you …?”

“I’m sorry, dear! But when I felt the spell start to pull us out, I just … shrugged it off!”

“But I didn’t shrug it off! How come I didn’t leave?”

“Funny thing that.” Raphael giggles nervously, peeking up at Azrael through glittering lashes. “I sort of … overrode it.”

“Raphael!”

“Azrael! It’s Christmas! I have been trying and trying to get you to take time off and go away with me! This twenty-four hours outside of time could be a holiday for us! Look at all the neat stuff they have planned!” Raphael snaps up a festively decorated flier. “Apple cider tasting, cookie decorating, a peppermint eating contest … and look! A Mistletoe Forest! Do you know what that means?”

Azrael crosses his arms over his chest. “It means this entire town has a huge fungus problem?”

“It’s a forest covered in mistletoe! Mist-le-toe!” Raphael repeats as if talking to a stubborn toddler. “You know … if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Parasites?”

“No.” Raphael wraps a glimmering curl coyly around one slender finger. “I was thinking more along the lines of dozens of hidden corners to get caught under and kiss.”

“My star …” Azrael inches closer, lowering his voice in the hopes that only his love will hear him “… if you want me to kiss you, all you have to do is ask. In fact, you don’t have to say a word. Just look my way and bat those golden eyelashes of yours. I’ll kiss you anywhere you want, wherever you want,” he emphasizes with a cheeky bounce of his eyebrows. “We don’t need mistletoe for that.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Raphael breathes in deep, exhales long. “If you want to leave, I’ll understand. I’m sure that I can summon a portal and send you back to your mortuary. Your grim, dreary, lonely mortuary, with that single, sad wreath on the door …”

Raphael sniffs theatrically.

Azrael rolls his eyes.

“Would spending the day here make you happy?” Azrael asks with the enthusiasm of someone about to have teeth pulled sans anesthetic in preparation for a lengthy root canal. “Really happy?”

“Yes,” Raphael answers hopefully, sparkling a vibrant gold like the nebula he is. “Effervescently.”

“I can see that,” Azrael mutters. “All right.” He drops down onto the hard bench, level with Raphael’s beaming gaze, and despite this whole headache, he smiles. What can he say? He loves to see his starshine happy. “Finish your cocoa and come along. We have a PG rating to tank.”

“Ooo! Is that one of your fantasies? Whisking me off to the woods like a cad and having your way with me?” Raphael asks, blithely misreading Azrael’s mood. Too eager to be on their way, he snaps his fingers, transforming his snowman mug into an argyle-printed Thermos to transport his cocoa in. He wouldn’t want to waste good cocoa. Real or not, it’s way too tasty to leave behind. “Oh! Shall I change into a dress? I know! Something Victorian! With a red-trimmed corset and …!”

Azrael catches Raphael’s hand before he can snap his fingers again.

“Raphael! You are a strong, fiercely independent archangel! I would not think to insult you by acting out a fantasy that employs such a flawed and sexist stereotype!”

“Oh,” Raphael squeaks, equal parts stunned by Azrael’s response as disappointed, causing his shimmer to dim. “Oh, I apologize. Yes. Yes, I see your point. I …”

Azrael brings Raphael’s hand to his mouth, a wicked grin spreading his lips as he kisses Raphael’s knuckles one at a time, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue on the soft web of skin in between, making Raphael’s glow go from brilliant to blinding. “That said - yes. Yes, it is. So please, if you don’t mind … wear the dress.”

***

The Hallmark Channel movie ‘Death Takes a Holiday’, which network execs couldn’t recall green lighting, not a single director remembered directing, nor likewise any of the writers recalled writing, was so insanely popular that, by virtue of a voracious, fan-led letter writing campaign, it ran for three weeks into the New Year, and prompted a sequel for Valentine’s - ‘Death Takes a Spouse’.

[lavenderek]

Why do you hate Ian?? When i was a kid I LOVED What A Girl Wants. I had such a crush on Ian :(

i am happy to go off thank you for this opportunity, long post under the cut

in case somebody wants to read this but doesn’t know what “what a girl wants” is, it’s a movie from the early 2000′s starring amanda bynes as Daphne. 

she grew up in new york with a single mom, Libby. she has an estranged father played by colin firth, Henry, who doesn’t know daphne exists. libby is a singer who works weddings a lot. 

libby and henry were star-crossed lovers, basically. henry is an english aristocrat with political aspirations, and his family believed marrying libby, who is living her stevie nicks fantasy, would damage his career; so they got her alone and convinced her henry changed his mind and didn’t want her. libby left, not yet knowing she was pregnant, and then spent 17 years pining for him. 

daphne has spent her whole life romanticizing the idea of her father coming to get her, so after she graduates high school she chooses to fly out to england and surprise him. when she gets there she is disappointed to find that he is engaged to a woman who has a daughter about daphne’s age, but tries to make it work anyway. 

daphne is clumsy and very casual, so hijinks ensue. henry’s fiancee and future stepdaughter are evil and conniving. 

daphne is rejected and bullied by the fiancee and stepdaughter and she struggles trying to fit in with aristocratic society, so ultimately she leaves. henry is upset about this because he learned to love her, and subsequently he discovers she was being mistreated. he breaks up with the fiancee and flies out to america to surprise daphne. daphne gets into oxford u somehow and they all live happily ever after. 

the first person daphne meets and gets to know in the movie is a local musician named Ian, who tells her she was born to stand out. he has minimal effect on the plot, like, i could write him out in two minutes, but god forbid we have a teen movie without a romance in it. they’re immediately attracted to each other and he proceeds to be a very bad boyfriend that the audience is supposed to find morally upstanding and charming. 

this post is about how it did not work and i don’t like him. 

The Superficial Shit: I’m Not About It

i’m immune to motorcycle boys. motorcycles are impractical and loud. get a muffler. i think if you buy a motorcycle you have to sign a contract promising to idle on your motorcycle for ten minutes every morning at 6:30 so that everyone in the neighborhood knows you have a motorcycle. so i don’t care that ian is A Bad Boy. 

i’m also immune to english accents. it’s just like, an accent. it’s fine. i’m supposed to find everything he does inherently charming because he has an accent and he sings, but i don’t, so, try a little harder.

like, i’m also not impressed by sporty types, but i still accepted “a cinderella story” because austin had a character progression and i could see why sam found him attractive. 

ian has no character progression. he starts out confident and independent and he ends up confident and independent. he remains happily working class with a more or less successful band the entire movie. nothing daphne does affects him negatively except that one time she fucks up and blows off a concert he wanted to go to. 

so as a result i’m not invested in anything he does. the only interesting thing he does is first building up daphne’s confidence and then getting mad and tearing it back down when she’s doing something he doesn’t personally find important, which is the next thing. 

The Worst Boyfriend: Why Am I Not The Center Of Your Universe?

here are the first three pieces of information ian learns about daphne:

her mom is a musician 

she is american 

she is here to find and get to know her politician father, Lord Dashwood

he’s very supportive of this endeavor, right up until it gets difficult. he’s like, “you came all this way, he’s your dad, you should definitely meet him.” 

she publicly fucks up a couple major society events and then is like, “hey, i’m putting my dad’s career in jeopardy, so in order to stay and get to know him this summer i’m gonna prioritize these events a little more.”

and ian is immediately like, “you’ve changed,” and dumps her lmfao

her lifelong drive to find and get to know her dad is one of the first things he learns about her. why does he think it’s so stupid? why am i supposed to care about his opinion? 

daphne, probably: this thing is important to me. ian, probably: ok, that’s fine.  daphne, probably: woof, in order to keep up with this thing i have to try a little harder.  ian, probably: hm. actually, this is unimportant.  daphne, probably: i’m going to do it anyway.  ian, probably: what? didn’t you hear me? i just said it was unimportant. why aren’t you quitting immediately? my opinion should be your primary concern. you know what? i’m done.

i had the same problem with nate from “the devil wears prada.” i will never understand the idea of seeing someone you apparently care deeply about very stressed out trying to accomplish a goal, and being mad that they’re not super fun and interesting right then. sometimes a person you care about is going through something. let her vent and buy her some ice cream. 

if your partner stops being supportive and understanding the second your life gets stressful or complicated, that’s kind of a red flag. the real test of a relationship is when you have to support each other and maintain your bond even when you’re trying to get something done, or even when you’re having a rough time and you’re in a bad mood. 

ian fails this test because he’s weirdly judgmental about it all.

Attitude Stinks

before the change ian hates, daphne is late to things, she dresses casually for formal events, she gets into a screaming physical altercation with someone at a party, and because she was acting out a lot at a ball she’s blamed for the destruction of a prized, historical piece of architecture. all of these cause scandals that embarrass henry and make him look bad in tabloids. he is in the middle of a campaign for a political position, so this is bad. 

after the change, daphne reaches out to her debutante grandmother for guidance and starts wearing socially acceptable clothing, goes to events where she is expected, and is quiet and respectful at an event where she’s supposed to meet the queen of england. this is all very successful for henry. people go up to him and tell him daphne’s great, and she somehow ends up in a tabloid that talks about how great she is lmfao. 

all of this takes a lot of effort from daphne, though. she’s stressed out. while this works out for henry, it isn’t working for daphne. she’s doing all this so that she can be accepted by her father’s family, but the fiancee and stepdaughter don’t want her around, and henry is passive throughout all this. he doesn’t know she’s actively being bullied, but he’s also letting his fiancee direct him away from daphne. so daphne ultimately leaves. 

here’s where ian comes in. ian tells her a story toward the beginning of the movie about how his mother was also an aristocrat. he tells her she was rejected by society because of classism towards ian’s father. this is framed as a demonstration of ian’s values. the fact that his mother rejected being a debutante is a source of pride for ian. 

but the problem is that this is just because ian likes the choice she made. he’s not proud that his mother took control of her life and made her own decision. he’s proud that his mother rebelled. you know this because he sums up the story with this line -

daphne: what happened to your parents?  ian: they’re as poor as church mice and the happiest people i know. 

- and because his entire conflict in the movie is that daphne makes a different decision. 

ian’s mom chose her husband over her parents and the life they wanted for her. daphne is choosing the family she’s been wanting her whole life over a guy she’s known for like, a month. ian is the biggest whiner about it. he storms out on her. she runs into him at an event and asks to talk to him, and he tells her no. he only forgives her when she quits and goes back to america. 

there are a lot of dudes like this out there. he loves a strong, unique woman, as long as she fits seamlessly into his life and makes decisions he tells her to. yawn. 

Makes No Sense: Why Are You Here?

ian is somehow ubiquitous in debutante society. he and his little band are hired to play at every ball daphne goes to. why??

a huge plot point is a moment where daphne attends a terribly boring coming out ball for a pair of very meek, shy twins. daphne delights the twins by going out of her way to liven up the party. she convinces ian to play loud rock music and encourages everyone at the ball to dance. the bass is too loud, though, and somehow causes an antique chandelier to fall. this is a big scandal. 

the whole thing that’s emphasized during this scene is that daphne is shaking up the scene and that this music is unorthodox and unwanted at these high society type functions. 

which all begs the question of why these people keep hiring a local rock band for these events. he’s playing at at least one other ball later on in the movie. the music they play doesn’t really fit in with the tone of the events, which are the kind of affairs you’d wear a tiara to. these are very formal events. why are we hiring ian and his band, and where did you guys even find him?? 

in the scene where daphne gets into a fight with somebody, she’s at a fancy outdoor event, the kind of place you’d wear a tea length dress and a big hat. ian is also there, working in the parking lot as a parking lot guy. 

daphne’s thrilled, but she does ask why he’s there. he’s basically like, “i have lots of jobs.” for somebody who hates deb society so much, he does take a lot of jobs at deb events. why don’t you work in a restaurant or something? does that offend your punk rock whiner sensibilities? 

also, he’s boring and i think daphne should go for somebody who makes her laugh. 

Has Spiked Hair

lots of gel, no other info needed. wash your hair. very sculpted hair makes people seem less down to earth. it’s not relatable. 

I Will Fix It

so ian doesn’t help with the plot at all. the only time he helps daphne is in the chandelier scene. the rest of the time he’s just there to date her and talk to her a lot about how cool it is to stand out and not fit in. 

his role in the movie is to cause more tension and place more pressure on daphne. he behaves like she’s making a moral choice, when really she’s making a behavioral choice. 

i think using him to vocalize her conflict is a mistake because it’s framed as Stand Out vs. Assimilate, when that has nothing to do with daphne’s motivation. 

daphne’s Want is to be with her dad, and her Need is to be accepted and wanted. as a result, ian rejecting her because he doesn’t like the choices she’s making comes across as entitled and cruel lmao. it’s directly antithetical to daphne’s journey. she never once says anything about loving standing out. 

here are the ways i think this could be fixed: 

if you want it to be a moral thing, make it a moral thing. 

give ian a best friend who is gay, and after daphne decides to fit in with society, she won’t be seen with the gay friend anymore. or after daphne decides to fit in, have her be super judgmental of people who aren’t succeeding as much as she is. then when she decides she’s fed up, have her stand up for them. 

that would make ian being mad about her “changing” make sense. and we, the audience, would be like, “yeah, this is misguided and goes against what daphne believes.” 

not breaking things or yelling at a royal event isn’t a moral stance. why are you so pressed. get a hobby 

if you want her thing to be standing out, make it standing out. 

standing out isn’t a conflict in the whole movie. henry’s flaw is being passive. daphne’s flaw is being embarrassing at parties because she’s clumsy and she likes to meet new people and dance and stuff. libby has no flaw except that she was a victim of classism. 

the twins at the party are dowdy and shy, and daphne gives them a makeover off screen lmao. ian is single, and daphne dates him. 

so make standing out the recurring issue. make daphne super obsessed with fitting in. in the very beginning, she runs into a girl she knows at a wedding. the girl is kind of privileged and successful, and daphne reveals that she’s a free spirit who doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life. instead, make her hedge and hem and haw and try to make herself seem more successful to the girl. make her Want to be fancy and part of her dad’s high society life, but her Need to “be herself.” 

maybe the twins are secretly super weird and quirky, and they’re depressed trying to fit in; and their big moment revealing being cool now at the garden party is them wearing loud patterns and dancing when the music starts playing. maybe ian is super funny and goofy and the parties suck until he and daphne trick the singer into leaving the stage, and ian jumps onstage and plays a fun song. 

make libby have been rejected because she always started talking politics at henry’s parties and she’s kind of radical. 

maybe daphne: hey, i’m sorry, but you can’t come with me to the party next week anymore. maybe ian: what? how come, i rented a tux for this. maybe daphne: sorry. i’m trying to behave.  maybe ian: haha what does that mean? you’re not trying to fit in with all those stuffy losers, are you?  maybe daphne: no, i’m trying not to ruin things for my dad. it was a big deal when you were super messy at the garden party.  maybe ian: wow. i seem to recall you being “messy” right along with me. sorry for embarrassing you.  maybe daphne: ian, don’t take it personally. we can still hang out sometimes, i just can’t go places with you.  maybe ian: no, thanks. 

i don’t prefer this, because i’m an introvert and people who think someone they don’t personally find interesting are fundamentally worse, are boring and annoying. i wouldn’t find this story relatable or compelling at all. i’m 9000 years old and i’m like, “what if you guys respected each other and participated in society, though?” i wouldn’t enjoy this story. but at least it would make sense why ian’s bothered by daphne not “standing out.”

i think the entire reason this movie was made is that trailer moment from the boat scene where ian’s like, “i don’t understand why you want to fit in, when you were born to stand out!” so that’s how you can keep that dumbass line. 

make ian have an arc himself. 

in the movie, ian is initially helpful and gives some backstory, and then partway through the movie he gets mad at her and breaks up with her. he forgives her at the same time as henry realizes daphne’s unhappy, right at the end. 

instead, make ian become helpful as the movie progresses. 

so first of all, take the scene toward the beginning where he’s in the boat allegedly showing her how to practice being poised, and he tells her about his mom being a disowned deb. move this scene to the beginning of the third act. 

next, make it so that ian was rejected by his grandparents. maybe ian at some point also defied his mom to seek out estranged family; but where daphne’s dad let her stay, ian’s grandparents insulted him and told him they didn’t want him around. they called him illegitimate and a mistake. so when daphne chooses to try to conform, ian is reacting to those feelings rather than projecting his own feelings of personal superiority. 

and finally, make daphne try to fit in much sooner, but make her super bad at it. my roommates and i watched this movie the other night and one of them made the very good point that daphne’s grandmother and father sit her down and are like, “there is a certain way you’re supposed to behave,” but they don’t tell her how to do that. 

so let’s actually keep that part. maybe daphne overcorrects. she knows she’s fucking up, so she believes she shouldn’t be doing anything fun or interesting or making conversation with anyone. this isn’t great. her charm is in how friendly, fun-loving, and proactive she is. she does what she wants and people find it refreshing. make people start to be like, “wow, lord dashwood’s daughter is kind of weird and stiff. it’s clear she isn’t used to places like this, what a rube.” 

now we get to the third act, and the boat scene. in the boat, ian tells her about his family, and apologizes and offers to try and help her, if this is what she wants. now ian is playing more of an active role, and he’s contributing to her life in a positive way. 

because as it is, he does nothing that i couldn’t get rid of very easily. so...

get rid of ian. 

here are the effects ian currently has on the plot: 

daphne riding away on the back of a motorcycle makes henry worry about her, and he realizes he’s developing paternal feelings toward her. he calls libby and libby affirms and empathizes with those feelings. 

ian is in the band at the party where the chandelier is destroyed. 

ian talks a lot about how daphne’s supposed to stand out. 

ian stresses daphne out, which sort of artificially raises the stakes. 

ian shows up right at the end to reward daphne for existing. 

especially because ian’s criticisms are so disconnected from daphne’s motivations, nothing he does is particularly helpful to the plot in a way that he couldn’t be replaced. 

daphne has a tattoo in the movie, and when henry sees it, he’s sort of like, wow, she’s kind of a wild child, she reminds me of me when i was young. instead of a motorcycle boyfriend, make daphne get the tattoo in london. henry calls libby like, “she just got a tattoo!” and libby is like, “i remember you holding my hand while i got my first tattoo.” 

maybe the live band takes a break, and daphne sneaks up and hooks up the speakers to her ipod or something, and she plays super loud music herself. 

i already talked about how pointless this is. also, we don’t need a greek chorus telling us what’s going on. show, don’t tell. 

daphne is already stressed. those motivations can come from inside daphne.

why would henry seek out daphne’s ex-boyfriend and fly him out to new york to impose on daphne and her mom? this is so weird. go home. 

ian is replaceable. to the left, to the left. 

[ijustwant2write]

Girls Change Everything-Dimitri Mitropoulos x Reader

(GIF credit to @mrpeteparker)

Requested by anonymous: 'Could you do a Dimitri Mitropoulos from Riot Club imagine where she's an American that Dimitri likes to flirt/banter with and he obviously has real feelings for that the Riot Club tries to manipulate his feelings for her and it causes him to stand up to them proving how deeply he cares for her?'

Characters: Dimitri Mitropoulos x Reader, mentions of the club

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, mention of sex, vulgar talk about women, arguing, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dimitri casually leaned against the bar, waiting to be served. He was bored, he didn't want to speak about new club rules, he just wanted to get pissed with his mates. It was the end of a long week, uni had been piling a shit tonne of work of him, and all he needed was a drink... And maybe a shag.

"Glass of pinot please." a distinct voice said next to Dimitri at the bar.

He turned his head, eyes locking on the beautiful woman beside him. She stood tall, flicking her hair back over her shoulder as she passed the server the money for her drink. Dimitri angled himself towards her, turning on his charm.

"An American," he started,"how exotic."

The girl's head snapped towards him, before smiling and taking a drink."The Greek calling America exotic? Really?"

"You know who I am?"

"I've heard of you and your group. It's all anyone talks about really. Gets annoying."

He hummed. She hadn't bit at him, it was banter."Well, maybe I should enlighten you, tell you if these stories are true or not."

"Won't your friends mind?"

"Fuck them."

The two of them were tucked away on a small table in a corner, not afraid to be close to each other. There were laughs erupting from them, playful shoves, and at all times there was eye contact. They didn't care who was around them, they knew people were watching, itching to gossip with their friends the next day. Uni could be so boring, all work no play, so the tiniest change on socialising sparked everyone's interests.

"So you left your family to come here?" Dimitri asked before drinking.

(Y/N) nodded."How could I refuse? Obviously I miss them all, but this is an amazing opportunity. And it'll benefit everyone in the long run."

"Well, guess I'll just have to keep an eye on you." he leaned back, his arm already around the back of her chair.

"What for?"

"Make sure you stay out of trouble."

"What if I enjoy trouble?"

"Then you'll actually make my life a little easier."

"What, because you are trouble?"

"Only if you want me to be."

"Dims, mate, you coming back st any point?, Or should we expect you in the morning?" They were interrupted by Guy, who was smiling but only out of politeness.

"Guy, this is (Y/N), (Y/N) this is Guy, my best mate." Dimitri introduced them, though there was no brightness behind his words.

"Nice to meet you." she said.

"Yeah." Guy replied."So..."

"Mate, just fill me in tomorrow yeah?"

"It's not really a club meeting without all the members."

"James will just speak about the usual shit he says, I'm not missing out on anything."

"Dimitri, if you need to go, we can reschedule." (Y/N) piped up.

"Yes, thank you (Y/N), how thoughtful." Guy was beginning to get pissed off.

"No, I don't need to do anything." Dimitri said.

"Dims, the girl is letting you go."

"It's (Y/N), remember, I'm not just a girl."

"Well, to him you are."

Guy had silenced them. (Y/N) scoffed, already downing the rest of her wine and grabbing her bag. The British were either cowards and hid their true feelings, or too blunt and were just plain arse holes.

"No, (Y/N), don't listen to him." Dimitri went after her, ignoring the glares being sent by his friend.

(Y/N) stopped outside the pub, confusing Dimitri as she began laughing."Oh I love annoying British people, you're all wound up so tightly."

"What?"

"I think your friend was getting a little jealous back there. Give me your phone."

He quickly passed it to her, unlocked, watching as she typed in her number. God, this girl was fast.

"Text me when you're free. I'll let you get back to your friends before they all come and throw a tantrum. See ya Dims." she briefly pecked his lips, walking away without waiting for another word from him.

He watched her as she left, finally going back inside when he heard his name being called. As soon as this fucking meeting was over, his attention would be back on (Y/N).

She liked him. She had always preferred the confident boys, even the cockiness; but she believed it was because she could handle it, and it was always funny to see boys squirm under a woman's confidence. Her smile lit up when he finally messaged her. It was stupid, she hardly knew him, but he was intriguing. Even if nothing came out of it, that's what uni was for, she wasn't going to waste her life mourning over what could have been.

"Dimitri, that was a quick response." (Y/N) happily sighed as she opened her dorm door for him. It was the next morning, the usual Sunday feeling sinking into everyone.

"I don't like to waste time." he started to let himself in, until (Y/N) put a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

"Oh, I don't think we're quite there yet."

"Oh, right, I just thought-"

"I need some coffee before we get into all that."

Everyone was surprised when they saw Dimitri and (Y/N) hanging out multiple times around campus. It was no secret that they had fucked, and just like that people assumed she was just another girl on Dimitri's list. But here they were, enjoying lunches together, walking each other to their lectures, even studying together (though they never did get through much revision).

"Dimitri, what the fuck is going on with you and Miss America?" Harry asked.

"Piss off Villiers." Dimitri sighed.

"Tell us, is she really that good of a fuck?"

"It's not all about fucking you know Villiers."

The club laughed out loud, shoving Dimitri around.

"What happened to 'girls for now, girls for later'?" Toby sniggered.

"Some of us aren't idiots mate."

"She's quite a free spirit, isn't she?" George added, trying to be nice.

"Meaning she's into kinky stuff." Guy suggested.

"Well she's definitely not getting that with Dimitri." Harry said.

Dimitri immediately snapped at him."Why not?"

"Because you couldn't handle it."

"Right, I'm fucking amazing at fucking, alright? And at least I'm not having to go get checked every weekend, I've seen some of the birds you drag back with you."

Tension was rising within the group, some boys wondering if this was actually serious and others hiding their laughter. Harry scoffed, focusing on the beer in front of him. Dimitri knew this would happen, and it fucked him off. Like all the lads, he had messed around with girls, never taking them seriously, and as much as it sickened him to be so cliche, (Y/N) was different. He wasn't annoyed by her after they had sex, he didn't want her leaving immediately. At first he thought it was because he wanted to go another round, but when he found himself getting breakfast with her, a new feeling ha developed.

"They just don't understand." Dimitri whined, enjoying laying his head in (Y/N)'s lap. He found himself venting to her as soon as she stepped into his room.

"They'll come round to it, once they stop messing around."

"Well, boys will be boys."

She shook her head."No, that's not an excuse. Always hated that saying, makes you lot get away with anything."

"Sorry."

"Oh, no, Dims I didn't mean it like that. There are some horrible men in the world though."

"Well, you won't have to deal with them whilst I'm around. Though I'm sure you were dealing with them long before I came along."

"You're right, but it's much nicer having someone next to you."

Someone briefly knocked on the door before letting themselves in. The couple watched as Guy hesitated in the doorway, not realising (Y/N) would be there.

"What do you want?" Dimitri plainly said as he sat up.

"Can I come in? I want to talk."

"Actually (Y/N) and I were-"

"Dimitri," (Y/N) interrupted,"let him in."

Guy closed the door as Dimitri gestured for him to clem in. The men stood opposite each other, though there was no eye contact.

Guy started."Mate, I'm sorry."

Surprised, Dimitri finally looked at him."For what?"

"For all those things we were saying about your relationship. It was wrong. Just cause you've got a girlfriend doesn't mean you're any different than what you were before."

"Oh... Right."

"I was just....You weren't around as much."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, laughing at their awkwardness."Oh my god, would you two just admit you missed each other and make up? Come on, it's been obvious. Guy, you've been jealous that Dimitri has been spending most of his time with me, and Dimitri, you've missed your friend. You know Guy, he actually talked about you a lot-"

"Alright (Y/N)." Dimitri stopped her before she went too far.

Guy chuckled."She really says it how it is, doesn't she?"

The three of them smiled, and (Y/N) watched as the two friends hugged, patting each other on the back as men did. Picking up her handbag, she clasped a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Right then, I say we celebrate this forgiveness in the pub. Perhaps Guy can tell me something about Dimitri that I don't know yet?"

Guy was eager to dive into embarrassing stories, already looping her arm through his. Dimitri struggled to keep up as they practically ran off, dreading to think what stories Guy could be telling her. He had wanted them to get along, but this wasn't what Dimitri had in mind.

[damienhaasbaybee]

Figured it out 😂 for the let's get personal, can I request that you do them all?

I DID IT BAYBEEEEEEE.

* 1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

I’ll Be There For You and Bad Medicine by Bon Jovi, In My Head by Ariana Grande, I Believe by Jonas Brothers, Air Force Ones by Nelly, and Chasing Pavements by Adele

* 2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Harry Styles or Damien Haas so they can fall in love with me.

* 3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

“me that it was a sometimes temporary paralysis that causes damage”

* 4: What do you think about most? the fact that I have nothing to really work towards

* 5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

“I’m tireddd”

* 6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

without most of the time

* 7: What’s your strangest talent?

number and address recall 🙄 its embarrassing sometimes lol

* 8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

girls go to college to get more knowledge boys go to jupiter to get more stupider

* 9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

fuck no lol

* 10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

um... today.. in the car

* 11: Do you have any strange phobias?

raw chicken.

* 12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

a piece of ice so i could pierce my nose.

* 13: What’s your religion?

christian

* 14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

um... if its for pleasure... swimming.

* 15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind lol

* 16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

of all time... linkin park or one direction

* 17: What was the last lie you told?

that I’m fine lol

* 18: Do you believe in karma?

v much so

* 19: What does your URL mean?

um... i am damien haas’ baybee and he is also my baybee

* 20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

weakness, helping people until I die strength, i am honest

* 21: Who is your celebrity crush ?

james marsden, david dobrik, zac efron, miles teller, damien haas...

* 22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

no

* 23: How do you vent your anger?

i sing real fucking loud

* 24: Do you have a collection of anything?

one direction memorabilia lol

* 25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

either works with me tbh

* 26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

yes.

* 27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

sound I hate: hearing others talk on the phone, sound I love: rubbing clean hands on a clean table

* 28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

what if I’m just crazy and none of this is real

* 29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

yes and yes. anything is possible.

* 30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

my comforter both times lol

* 31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

a clean house lol

* 32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

uhhhh Louisville

* 33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

west coast because i have never been

* 34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Harry Styles

* 35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

to leave the earth better than I found it

* 36: Define Art.

art is everything and nothing that a person wants it to be

* 37: Do you believe in luck?

I do. circumstances create luck.

* 38: What’s the weather like right now?

pretty clear

* 39: What time is it?

10:08pm

* 40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

yes and yes! I won’t say what it was but it hit ME.

* 41: What was the last book you read?

I tried reading Girl Wash Your Face but couldn’t get into it.

* 42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Yes

* 43: Do you have any nicknames?

yes I do... you can call me queen tho.

* 44: What was the last film you saw?

Legally Blonde

* 45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

several ankles sprained severely on each side.

* 46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

no

* 47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

yes. damien haas.

* 48: What’s your sexual orientation?

bisexual, demisexual, pansexual????

* 49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

yes. I was pregnant.

* 50: Do you believe in magic?

no.

* 51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

yes, unfortunately.

* 52: What is your astrological sign?

cancer

* 53: Do you save money or spend it?

both!

* 54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

a carwash for my dads truck

* 55: Love or lust?

both

* 56: In a relationship?

somewhat

* 57: How many relationships have you had?

two

* 58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

no

* 59: Where were you yesterday?

home

* 60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

yes, my water bottle

* 61: Are you wearing socks right now?

no, never

* 62: What’s your favourite animal?

polar bear

* 63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

my hospitality (including dis mouf)

* 64: Where is your best friend?

idk, at home?

* 65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

oooooo bisquett, thebasketcase101, persistence-ofmemories, creativegoof, and zanesgirlfriend

* 66: What is your heritage?

I am part native american and european as far as i know. i want to do a 23andme so I can find out. My skin tans realllllly dark even with tons fo sunscreen on so that makes me think I have more Native American than I thought.

* 67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

I was definitely watching New Girl

* 68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

idk... Jones?

* 69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

biiiiitch of course I have.

* 70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

Yes. I may suck but I am loyal as hell and I’ll do anything for my friends.

* 71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

save the dog, fuck that job.

* 72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) yes b) spend it with family and write a book c) fuck yes. i am terrified of death all the time.

* 73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

trust. love is nothing without being able to trust.

* 74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

It’s A Great Day to Be Alive by Travis Tritt

* 75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

1389.. not in that order.

* 76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

honesty and communication.

* 77: How can I win your heart?

buy me food and show me that I can trust you with my heart. I sturggle to trust people. I also NEED to be called pet names.

* 78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Yes.

* 79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

Quitting my toxic ass job.

* 80: What size shoes do you wear?

9.5

* 81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

She did her best, even when odds were against her.

* 82: What is your favourite word?

I dont have a favorite but my least favorite is “creamy”.

* 83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

Love.

* 84: What is a saying you say a lot?

“ooooo bitch”

* 85: What’s the last song you listened to?

Always You, Louis Tomlinson

* 86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

darkkk red and black

* 87: What is your current desktop picture?

bitch I aint been on there in so long, I have no clue.

* 88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Donald Trump

* 89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

depends on who is asking, if its my family... asking my sexuality.

* 90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Fucking scream and run.

* 91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Mind reading.

* 92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Seeing my dads face when I walked across the stage at graduation or him telling me how I looked in my junior prom dress.

* 93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Watching my dad die.

* 94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Harry Styles.

* 95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

The beach, pronto.

* 96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

Not anymore

* 97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

No

* 98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes. I loved it.

* 99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

Love others like you would like to be loved and see where that gets you.

[introspectiveillumination]

God I wish my dad wasn’t the way he is, it makes me feel like the world will never change or get any better than it is. Only ever worse because selfish shitty racist whiny freedumb angry brats will never let it.

Because people like him can’t ever not be more right, more smart, more important, more everything, than anyone else. No matter what facts, pictures, videos, testimonies you show them they always somehow have to know what’s “really truly” going on and why everything you can show them from a dozen different sources both independent and mainstream is actually faked and edited and you’re a gullible child who will grow out of your foolish liberalism and become a just as conservative as them once you’re as old and experienced as they are and not a gullible kid. Like you’re not 30 damn years old and reading every info source you can find. Like their chosen news source hasn’t had to publicly retract falsified images and stories. Like those blatant, proven lies don’t cast a massive shadow of doubt over every other outrageous and unsupported claim they make.

Why does it always have to be an “us vs them” for people like that? And only those just them get to be “us” and “correct”? And in that forever us vs them they always have to be waging war on something and battling for whoever their “us” of choice is that moment. And winning, of course. Always one step up, better, smarter, more right, more good.

War on drugs that they brought here in the first place. War on terror because the abstract concept of “bad guys do mean things” can ever be beaten, and because we want resources that don’t belong to us. Imaginary war on Christmas because people acknowledge other holidays or Starbucks has a red cup. Imaginary war on Christianity because of stupid shit like not using the Bible as a basis for public education or removing it from government office displays in a non-theocratic nation. War on white people becaus BLM isn’t all about them. War on men because women don’t want to fuck them and be hit on at their jobs. War on their ancestors/heritage/history because people are sick of seeing racist slave owners, murderers and rapists, honored with statues. War on families because some families are same sex married couples.

If I hear “insurgents” one more time, or catastrophizing like all of Capital Hill has burnt down, about how the military should be used against American citizens to “fix” things to his liking, about antifa are actual literal terrorists with highly organized and separated cells all across the US waiting to ruin us all, about how only people with jobs are good enough to deserve health care, and now that our governor is an idiot and a dictator and we need to rise up against him and how he can’t make a law requiring him to wear a STUPID FUCKING MASK IN PUBLIC SPACES I’m going to lose my shit.

If he hates all of our “west coast left coast libtard snowflake bullshit” so much I wish he’d just leave. Move to a treehouse in Montana or Alaska and go full d-day prepper or whatever the fuck appeases his ego and racism and utter distrust in the humanity of others (probably because if he only cares for his own gain/win and disregards the well-being of others then why would anyone else think or be any other way?) as long as he isn’t actually hurting anyone but himself. He’s not pure evil but he’s so willing to be selfish and shitty and hurtful and I don’t want that in my life. It would be so much easier to go low contact/no contact if he didn’t live a five minute drive from my house. My stomach wouldn’t be filled with so many knots of anxiety and stress and dread all the time, and the future wouldn’t feel so damn hopeless if I didn’t hear all his bullshit all the time.

I don’t know. I’m just really tired and really needed to vent after his latest bullshit over the simple requirement of wearing a goddamn mask and putting community good ahead of his own personal pride for once. As though he’s too good for getting sick and too smart to fall for a wild conspiracy that’s out to ruin everything with... mild inconvenience?

I’m tired.

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

Me vs my father in the enjolras is javert's son Les Mis AU that is my life

So. Me. 28. THIS close to her master's degree. Liberal. Socialist. Mixed kid. New Yorker. Just got home from living on her own in Greece. Been living away from parents for seven years. Queer. ADHD . Rsd. Imposter syndrome. Bad at rejection. Torn between two parents who are STILL fighting for me.

Living with Father because who picked the year of the coronavirus to give up her life .62. Barely completed high school. Said Regan was the best president he lived through. Trump voter. New Yorican who doesn't understand the world doesn't see him as white. Conservative who moved south and got worse. Blue lives matter dude. Not Batman.

Will not STOP. Provoking me.

It started with him mentioning you can't get aunt Jemima syrup any more because....you know . Me saying yes you can. The brand firs of all hasn't rebranded itself yet. It currently is still aunt Jemima and the packaging hasn't changed, still widely available. It's just going to rename itself. Get told no it's not "you can't do that any more." interrupted. Get to squeak out the bit about its gonna be the same recipe just called something else. Auntie J maybe. I think that's a good syrup name. He laughs and says it's gonna be BLM syrup.

(and you know what I find that trivializing but if that's what they wanted to name it who cares.)

(more context. His grandfather was black. He told me about being told as a kid by his father that little brown boys just say yes sir to the police. He got The Talk)

And then it goes to Porgy and Bess. Porgy and Bess is on so we watch it. All of us enjoy it thoroughly. He says "isn't this racist? What's the difference between this and aunt Jemima?"

Me.....

I have to get this information put as fast as possible . He's not really listening. He doesn't care. He's not asking . He doesn't find them both genuinely racist. He just....seems to want to catch me out. I try to explain. Porgy and Bess DOES Have some problems. But it was written in 1935 and was one of those Fair For It's Day things. Launched the careers of a lot of black classical singers. Still does. Some charecters might be a little sterotypical (Sportin Life did not age well) but in the hands of a good production and a good actor depth can be found. Rewrites have been made.

But I don't get to SAY any of these things. I try. I, well spoken, bordering on eloquent, stumble through a few poorly thought out points about interpretation and employment and he didn't see the difference between a classical singers playing Bess at the met and being well payed singing beautiful music and even if the roll is somewhat sterotypical and a product of it's times, through a good actress can become a wonderful three dimensional role, or at least no less than any other opera heroine and a poor black woman playing a completely one dimensional mammy sterotypes to sell syrup to enrich white people while playing off their own created nostalgia for oppression of the black race cause I WASNT PREPARED FOR FUCKING WAR OVER PORGY AND BESS. He just asked the questions. I'm on the defense. I've never even SEEN it before. I'm not ready to defend it. I didn't know I was going to have to. Hell, I'm not sure if it IS racist or problematic yet, we're 15 minutes it. He seems to know why I'm watching it at all if I'm so sensitive that a syrup name must trigger me.

He's not concerned it IS racist. Just seems to want to catch me in inconsistancies. Why do you watch this but you want the syrup renamed

(I didn't bring up the syrup. We were talking about the difference between brands in the north and south. He just brought up the fucking syrup and said it wasn't there any more. By the way. It is. I saw it in the fucking Kroger. And I literally do not care about the name of syrup. it's largely symbolic sure but if they want to rename themselves because yeah totally cringe history that's their business. Fine. It literally does not affect me. The recipe is there I'm just gonna call it aunt j or whatever)

And then this morning when I showed him a picture of the Alexander the Great statue o took on Thessaloniki

(masters degree in macedonian history/archeology, me)

He says

He SAYS

"I'm surprised they haven't taken that down."

In this stupid sing song way.

(like obviously this statue thing is an American thing with some England thrown in. I don't know much about Greek politics but I'm PRETTY FUCKING SURE they weren't invovled in the American transatlantic slave trade or the age of exploration my dude)

But he says "it's imperialism isn't it?'

Me "well yes but..."

"he conquered the world didn't he? Did he or did he not conquer the world. You think he did that by being nice to people?"

"well you'd be surprised how much alliance building and diplomacy was used but yes but--"

"so how's it different? Did he conquer the world? Did he own slaves?"

"actually probably not as macedonia wasn't really a slave society and the Persians DEFINITELY didn't have slaves"

"well I just think it's the same"

(frustrated. Can't show emotion or he wins. Already cracked a few days ago when he was talking about a cop iniured by "the mob" and COULDN'T because how many of my people were injured by them? And had to tell him to stop. Told he wouldn't talk politics. Does the above count)

Me. Lightly. "You're unable to grasp nuance. And you're just trying to provoke me"

Something happens. Subject changed. Did I win? Did I lose? We're always battling.

Thing is.

Yes.

There is an INCREDIBLY subtle and nuanced discussion to be had about imperialism in general and its effects and how even ancient imperialism effects us to this day. And how we view warfare and conquest in general and the stories we tell. I would argue Alexander was great because of his kindness, the cultural exchange he sparked, his clever tactics , his mastery of grand strategy, his diplomacy, his ability to use image, and only last his undefeatedness in battle. But I wasnt the one who called him Great, to whoever that was it was about the war. There is A LOT about Alexander and his affect on Persia,which, while we shouldn't layer modern politics over it (especially race based one. Yes Alexander was Caucasian but WHITENESS didn't exist then and Persia was the sophisticated empire , Greece was tiny and insignificant. It's just that Greece wrote the story and got to paint them as barbaians but it has nothing to do with race and they REALLY REALLY WEREN'T and even the Greeks knew that) did destroy an empire and affects the region to this day. Persian perceptions of Alexander are obviously not as kind, and equally important.

So yes there is a discussion to be had about that. And why we venerate a man who did kill thousands and why, I would argue, he still is a very good person who, despite his faults, does deserve that statue.

But we weren't having that

We were playing gotcha.

Cause even if he Couldn't grasp the difference between Alexander the Great, who yeah, totally did sell thebans into slavery in a system that attributed slavery to bad luck and if he had lost would have expected the same treatment to anyone who was not killed,and Confederate generals who thought and entire race was inferior due to their birth, fought for their continued enslavement, committed treason to the country he loves SO much, and LOST, and were memorialized in stupid statues by a bunch of sore loser white supremacists in an attempt to rewrite history to turn what could have been and should have been an Embarrassing chapter in a regions history that should have been healed from into the DEFINING THING about that area despite lasting onl five years and still the symbol of pain and murder to a large percentage of our population within VERY CLOSE TO LIVING MEMORY that has affects that are still here in a very real way because *gestures vaguely at everything* and have caused riots TWICE in your lifetime because it hasn't changed has it and also YOU'RE NOT SOUTHERN and why do you care?

Then I'm not sure what to say.

I don't know what he wants. He wants me catch me out? Debate the liberal cause they're so stupid ? Vent frustration at the liberal because fox news tells you to hate them? His way of processing Something he doesn't understand? Men can't ask for directions? He wants me to argue him, some nerd version of beating the old man at basketball? He feels inferior to his kid so he's gotta put me in my place? A nerd version of not letting the kid beat you at basketball? Test me? Make me prove myself? Make me represent all liberals so he can win?

I don't know what he wants. But I'm SICK OF IT.

And I'm sick of being torn between the mother who is frightened and overbearing and the father who seems to want to always make me keep up.

And I cant

Deal

With

Conservatives

Any more!

[a-mountain-girl]

alright it’s venting time because I think better when I write and I can’t find anyone irl who I could talk to about all of this.

But before I begin if someone could bring me a gigantic bar of chocolate (milk pls I’m so sick of dark chocolate that’s all “santa” gave me for Christmas like... did mom forget I don’t like dark chocolate?) or a pint of peanut butter, pistachio, or moose tracks ice cream that would help.

Like, I understand that this hasn’t been a bad day necessarily just a bad hour that has since spiraled into a several bad hours and I’m more upset about underlying issues than I am about what happened. So what happened? 

Well it all seems innocuous enough. I went to my senior capstone class and met my classmates (all of whom I know from other classes) and the professor (who I’ve taken a class from before, this is important). We talked about the syllabus and class structure and I exercised an admirable amount of self-control in not excusing myself to go scream in the snow. I really, really wanted to go do that. 

The problems are 1) This is the only professor I have ever given a bad rating and for good reason. I don’t want to spend too much time on this but at first I was thinking “this guy seems pretty chill if a bit annoying” and then when he was talking about his education and specialty I realized... this is That Professor. This is That Guy. This is the one I actually called a dick in the course evaluation. Because I took the required survey of american literature from colonialism to the civil war course from this guy; this was online which made things worse. Now this was supposed to be a LITERATURE course, a SURVEY of LITERATURE. His course design was literally 50% ART, another 30% was dense paragraphs about history (I’m ADHD I absolutely cannot get through gigantic blocks of dry, useless text within a reasonable time frame), another 20% was bits of literature and media that was not relevant to the time period because his big thing was “How are these things influenced or developed from early American literature and/or history?!” Like.... I DON’T KNOW BECAUSE WE HAVEN’T STUDIED IT DIPSHIT! Then to add to it his expectations were that C is Average bullshit like, you’re setting your students up for failure when you set it up like C is the grade you expect to give them and to get an A a student has to go above and beyond like no, if a student meets expectations they should get an A. You’re just an asshole. Then his expectations for regular coursework were buried on a completely different website and never repeated, they also didn’t make sense. They were not clear. And then his idea of “feedback” is to ramble for paragraphs on a tangent and NEVER TELL ME WHY TF HE GAVE ME THE GRADE HE DID! Feedback needs to include an explanation of what the student did right and wrong so they can improve in the future. His rambling along with the lack of clarity in instructions made it impossible to get good, much less consistent grades. I’d try to follow all the instructions, even put in extra effort and get excited and I’d get a poor grade on an assignment in spite of doing everything right according to his incomprehensible instructions and then I’d half-ass a discussion post, turn it in late, and get an A and three paragraphs of this guy rambling excitedly in the comments. Like, it was impossible to figure out what he actually wanted us to do and then I was already mad enough about the lack of focus on what the class was actually supposed to be about and all this led to me throwing in the towel and either half-assing everything or just skipping assignments because I couldn’t care anymore. I have no desire to study under this buffoon’s “guidance” again.

2) One of the classmates is Obnoxious Man, who I will point out isn’t even graduating this spring and therefore really doesn’t need to be in this class and I think he shouldn’t be. I’m uncomfortable enough with the professor but I would be willing to give him a second chance in light of his whole thing about it being “student-led” and it being easier to communicate in person. But Obnoxious Man makes this impossible. The professor wants us sharing and working together all semester. I am not comfortable sharing anything remotely personal such as a reading I find fascinating or working with this man. I will not be giving him any access to me outside of the classroom. He will not be getting my phone number or my email. His vibes are disgusting and I’ve been dealing with boys and men just like him since kindergarten. I don’t care if he hasn’t actually done anything to threaten me, based on previous experience I won’t even take a chance. The second to last guy like this spent weeks harassing me because he wanted me to date him, the last guy would steal my stuff and stalk me. I had to get the school equivalent to a restraining order which he still found every excuse to violate. I can’t do this but I also can’t just drop the class because I, unlike Obnoxious Man, have to graduate this spring. I thought I could tolerate him after last semester but there’s a big difference between having to put up with him in discussion-based classes during half of the week and him having access to me.

3) I was thrown by the actual expectations laid out in the syllabus. I thought I would be doing a whole new, intensive project. I had a great idea and was actually getting excited. Instead we’re supposed to do group projects (see above for issues with that) and a personal project which will be revising an old paper like... when I finish a class I am done. D O N E. I never want to see that crap again. I don’t think I even still have half of that material! There isn’t one of those papers that I want to look at, much less expand! And how is this really challenging? The professor, Mr. Dickhead, went on and on about how important revising is to critical writing yada yada yada but maybe I don’t care?! Maybe I’m only in this degree as preparation for grad school in a different area? I hate writing critical analysis 99% of the time. It’s like pulling teeth. That’s not a great metaphor because I’m now expected to drag all these papers I want to forget about back into the horrible light of day. And I don’t know if these expectations were invented by the department or by the professor so I don’t know who to be mad at or if I could possibly request some sort of independent project.

4) Because of this and some things said by other students in their introductions (all positive things btw) I started into a reactionary spiral of feeling inadequate, childish, stupid, helpless, etc. etc. Like, one of these classmates is a finalist for a Fullbright scholarship which apparently had to be applied to in October and I didn’t know any of this?! Like that stuff is important but nobody tells me things and I don’t know how people know about all these scholarships and awards and programs and stuff that is helpful. It’s hard enough just making it through the day and doing a mediocre job on my assignments. It took me months to get up the courage to ask professors for recommendations. Filling out graduate applications has been hell and I had to tell my advisor yesterday that she’s not finished with the recs because there’s on in her inbox she missed and I still have to submit one more application that I was feeling good about yesterday and now am about ready to give up on. And the writing center isn’t open and I don’t want to be a burden on my advisor and talk to her about any of these issues...

[timeisacephalopod]

Melody

Tony and Nebula bonding over music and their sad tragic backstories while going back to earth, basically.

There’s not much he can do here for anyone, mostly himself since Nebula mostly doesn’t need food or air to survive, but since they’re fucking abandoned in space they might as well have a good sound track to go out on. Nebula was against the idea, claimed her species isn’t fond of music but relented when Tony told her that it makes his species grow better. Which doesn’t even make sense but Nebula clearly doesn’t know about humans because she buys it.

“If Quill listened to music all the time, and he did, why was he so small?” she asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Only half human,” Tony reminds her.

“Then why are you so small?” she asks and oh fuck off, that’s just rude. He’s not even that short, he is the average height for an American male and he’s annoyed with everyone calling him short. Its not his fault he hangs out with giants. Even Natasha is taller than him and she’s the second shortest on the team after him. Technically even Peter had been taller if only by an inch. He doesn’t want to think about Peter now though, not after...

“My father refused to let me listen to music,” he says and that’s not entirely untrue. He did hate Tony’s musical taste but fuck forties music its all fucking garbage. Classic rock is where it’s at.

“Your father abused you?” Nebula asks, surprised. For a moment Tony is too because he hadn’t disclosed that but then if music helps humans grow its a natural conclusion.

He nods, “seemed to enjoy it too.” Its not something he’s told anyone, but Thanos easily outdoes Howard for Shitty Father of the Year awards so. Howard was a piece of shit, an absolute bag of dicks but at least on some fucked up level he cared. Thanos fucking threw his daughter off a cliff, his favorite one according to Nebula, and that’s after slaughtering half her species when she was a kid. Total fuck head.

Nebula reaches out to him, settling a hand on his arm. “When we get back to earth, we’ll kill him,” she says and that might be the sweetest thing someone has ever said to him but he sighs.

“He’s already dead. Murdered actually. With my mom.” Fuck, that still hurts too but that’s the least of his worries now.

Nebula considers that for a moment, shrewd glare on his face in a way he used to find unnerving but now he’s used to it. “Good,” she says eventually. “But I’m sorry about your mother. I never had one.”

Yeah, he figured. “You get the chance to kill Thanos, do it,” he tells her. “No matter the cost.” There isn’t one greater than the one they’ve already paid.

*

Tony finds Nebula in the front of the pod nodding her head slowly to the music. Its painfully off beat, which kind of reminds him of Rhodey’s jokes about white people having no beat finding skills whatsoever, which Pepper kind of confirms even if Tony has no problems with it. He has no idea if either of them are alive. He’s sent messages of course, but no one has answered.

“This beat is pleasant,” Nebula tells him and that’s hilarious considering she’s not even nodding to it.

“Queen,” he tells her and she frowns. “The band’s name, it's Queen.”

She nods, “I like Queen.” They drift along all day, occasionally turning the engines on to coast them in the general direction of earth according to Nebula’s maps. There’s no hope of getting home and food has been low for some time. Oxygen is running low too so Tony doesn’t know why he keeps up pretenses.

Nebula’s rations are considerably smaller than his but he makes sure she eats anyway. If one of them have a chance at making it out its her, so she might as well keep strength. She tries to avoid eating but does when Tony pesters her enough to do it.

This is how they keep their days, measured by a standard of time Tony is unsure of given that earth years are more than likely different, until the oxygen finally hits its lowest point. They’ve been out of food for days. So he sends his final message back to earth and hopes Pepper or Rhodey or shit, even Steve gets it.

*

Nebula has been planning for this but it hurts nonetheless when she places Tony’s body in front of the vent. There’s barely any oxygen coming out of it but there will be enough to sustain him for another two hours while she prepares. She tries to work quick, Tony’s music playing through the pod. She has no idea if it’ll help and she’s certain he was lying about it helping humans grow. He’s still pitifully small.

Doesn’t matter now. She finds what she’s looking for, carrying it back to Tony and setting up the intravenous to get him food. She knows humans do this on earth, she’s asked. Tony hadn’t known her reason and he’s plenty happy to explain human science, rudimentary as it is. She watches him for a few moments, unsure if he’ll react well to food that his system wouldn’t be familiar with but he seems to do fine. She has no time to babysit at the moment so she resolves to check on him in an hour, when the oxygen will be close to critically low.

In the meantime she looks over the maps, certain she’s spotted their way out through a jump that should spit them out close enough to earth to travel there in time to save Tony. She plans their route until a sensor warns her that the oxygen is out and she swears, running off to Tony. When she gets to him its clear he’s having trouble breathing so she quickly slips the mask over his face and he relaxes as his breathing evens out. She hadn’t told him about the oxygen tanks because she hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up for a return home. His home, anyway. Nebula hasn’t ever had one. But she’s determined to ensure that if Tony dies he can at least do it on his own planet.

There are only two oxygen tanks and not enough food. Partially because Tony insisted that she eat no matter how many times she told him she didn’t need near as much food as he did. She’s used to eating only once a week, less sometimes, but Tony had been horrified at that eating schedule and made her at least something small every day. She has to admit that amount of food left her feeling less angry at everything but it still took up far too much food he could have saved for himself. Stupid human.

She goes back to her maps to finalize her plans before she turns on the engines.

*

Nebula spares Tony a glance, ensuring that he’s strapped in tightly before they make a series of jumps that may very well kill them both. She thought it was one or two jumps but its seven and going over five in a row isn’t recommended. But its this or die so she’s taking her chances. The alternative is death anyway so she might as well choose something slightly less likely to kill her and Tony.

She closes her eyes and pushes the pod forward into the first jump.

*

Rhodey gets the message from Tony, several actually, probably too late. “Is that old?” Pepper asks so he tries to find the date it was sent. He doesn’t get anything definitive, but.

“Earliest this could have come was six days ago,” he says softly. He doesn’t expect the pain to hit the way it does, like something his gripped his heart and squeezed. He thought he already made peace with Tony being dead but he’s wrong, he guesses, if it feels like his heart is literally being ripped from his chest.

Pepper lays her hand on his shoulder but he ignores it, unable to do anything but feel Tony’s loss at the moment.

*

When they hear the crash they all rush out. Steve looks prepared for a fight, probably has been since Bucky got dusted right in front of him. Pepper also looks ready to punch someone, which is out of character for her but Rhodey knows people deal with things in strange ways. And he... well, he wouldn’t want to be a threat at the moment because he’s got a lot of feelings and nothing to take them out of.

The pod is easy enough to find but the alien that steps out is a little harder to miss in the dust around the landing sight. But its what the alien has in its arms that interests Rhodey. The figure is human, that much is clear, but he can’t see the person’s face. For a moment its like he’s been given a shot of happiness, adrenaline surging through his veins as his mood lifts seemingly out of nowhere and he has to take a breath to steady himself from it. This is more than a shot in the dark. This is the Hail Mary of all Hail Mary’s. “Nebula,” he calls, remembering the alien’s name from Tony’s messages.

“How do you know my name?” the alien calls back and fuck, there’s no way. That message was old. Tony’s still gone, Nebula has just brought back a corpse.

“Do... do you have Tony with you?” he calls. Steve is giving him the side eye and so help him god if he tries to move in on Nebula Rhodey will fucking kill him himself. He needs to know Tony is actually dead, and he’s not risking Steve fucking Rogers screwing it up for him.

“He’s unconscious,” Nebula calls and that’s all he needs to know. He runs forward, ignoring Steve’s warning, and finds Tony as promised in Nebula’s arms. He takes Tony from them fast, unable to stop the tears but he doesn’t that that slow him down any.

*

Humans are strange, fickle creatures but they are loyal Nebula will give them that. Like dogs, a furry animal she has learned humans keep as companions. They’re also very loyal, so she’s been told. She think she offends both the darker and lighter skinned humans when she tells them humans are like space dogs. Its not her fault its true, though humans have much less hair and their faces are a lot different, obviously.

Their music also sounds better on the systems they made for it and the humans had been rather confused when she asked for a music player of some kind. She doesn’t care what they think though. She’s fixing her arm- she’d had to use a few parts from her body to reach earth, when Tony wakes up. He blinks a few times, frowns, and turns to the small box playing music. When he reaches out Nebula nearly jabs him in the cheek with the screw driver she’s holding.

“Change the song and I will stab you with this,” she tells him.

Tony sighs and sits back in bed. “Nebs, I know you like Bohemian Rhapsody but we’ve heard it a billion times. Can’t we listen to another Queen song?” he asks.

“Find one better than this one and maybe,” she tells him.

Tony lets out another sigh. “Nebs, there isn’t another song on earth that’s better than this song. We Will Rock You is pretty good though,” he tells her.

“Yeah, she’s not going to let you change it, we’ve tried. Welcome back to the land of the living,” the dark skinned human tells Tony from the door way. The lighter skinned one, she’s paler than Tony even, sticks her head around the other human’s body to look into the room.

“Is there a reason you two are all the way over there?” Tony asks and the darker skinned human rolls his eyes.

“She won’t let us in and believe me we have tried.”

“She called us space dogs,” the paler human says, apparently offended about this. Not. Her. Problem.

Tony starts laughing, surprising his human companions. “Yeah, she’s got poor socialization skills. If you met her father you’d understand. Come in,” he tells them and Nebula stands up, half crouched over Tony, who looks surprised by this.

“I don’t know if they have diseases, that one has weird hair!” Nebula says, gesturing to the pale human. There’s another human with that pale orangey hair around here and Nebula doesn’t like that human either. That’s not a natural color.

“Jesus Nebula, they don’t have diseases and yeah Pep’s a red head. Genetically rare for humans, but perfectly fine. And Rhodey’s probably cleaner than me,” he adds.

“Uh, definitely cleaner than you Tones. I don’t take needless risks with bots cleaning my wounds like you do,” he points out.

*

Tony has no fucking clue how Nebula managed to save his ass, even after looking at her insane plan that never should have worked. The math on it was impossible but he happens to know a lot of determination can make things more possible than one might expect.

He does, however, know he owes her so when he gathers what remains of the Avengers its to fucking kill Thanos.

[yoshi-p]

everyone and their dog is doing it and everyone is absolutely allowed to share their opinions so i want a turn but first let me clarify:

hello im yase, been around since 1.0. I am of turkish and nogai descent and i can speak fluently in tatar, turkish but my english doesn’t hold 100% so i will be all over the place.

Unfortunately this will all be word of mouth and may be taken as vague posting, but I have experienced issues since the release of 4.0 and would like to give my opinions. I want to let this all off my chest this is just a huge vent basically so i guarantee my english will be terrible.

the most important point: NEVER EVER SPEAK FOR ANOTHER CULTURE. NEVER EVER SPEAK ABOUT A CULTURE YOU DON’T KNOW. YOU HAVE SPREAD FALSE INFORMATION AND I AM SO HURT.

another point is ITS A VIDEO GAME GUYS (does not apply to everything but some people really need to take a step back because people are concerned.)

Here’s the hot topic I’ll talk of first: garleans. I personally do not play one as I prefer to play characters that would never be involved in a sense with the political agenda because in real life im too stupid to comprehend anything like that so i wouldn’t even know how my character would behave with the hot topics. I really do think people need to take a step back and see that everyone who is putting in their input is making solid points but personally I would never compare them to nazi germany though I see why people are generalising. I always saw it as tsardom of russia with the use of roman influence as well, something obvious in naming conventions and the way the ranks/monarchy(?) works but it’s not so clear what the main influences of most places in this game if you have a look at the bigger picture. Without like full on spoiling, its weird to have this view to me with the knowledge that ascians are behind this. Are you implying anyone who plays or was influenced by ascians is also under this umbrella? 

Also why THE HELL WOULD YOU TAG SOMETHING KNOWING IT WOULD GET A LOT OF TRACTION AND RESPONSE THEN BE LIKE “you guys misunderstood, I was expressing my feelings” lol no. “ I don’t understand where this is coming from, and at this point, I don’t really want to.” then why did you even fucking bother do it in private dont tag it.

You are COMPLETELY valid to feeling uncomfortable, it is fine because with how much of this world we have there will be aspects some of us don’t like. You are not inclined to involve yourself with someone if they roleplay as a garlean but you do not need to start publicising it in a way that will paint the community in black and white when its truly a wider spectrum.

YOU CHOOSE WHO YOU INVOLVE YOURSELF WITH AND WHO YOU PLAY WITH, PLEASE GET AWAY FROM PEOPLE WHO GIVE YOU NEGATIVE FEELINGS OR YOU’LL SPREAD IT TO OTHERS.

from that initial and very brief tagged post there popped up many others and new discourse is arising, opening discussions about many things which is better then being blind to it all. but if you have personal grievances with someone and you state its over, let it be over. It’s not healthy behaviour. it’s also troubling to see someone complain a lot about the game and continue to play, no one is forcing you or holding a gun to your head. take breaks if you need to and play less frequently. like, real life is so much more important and there are people in this community that prioritise relationships with players etc.

Also, please stop fucking talking about mongolian/turkic/turkish culture like you know things. 99% of the big mouths in this community are americans. like majority are white americans. 

over the course of this expansion i have had many people of varied backgrounds share with me some terrible experiences and i myself have seen some truly stupid shit. 

WE ARE HERE TO HELP YOU LEARN OF OUR CULTURE AND WHERE TO CONTINUE DOING SO. DO NOT INTERPRET MEDIA AS ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF CULTURE.

it is absolutely not hard to tag a post and ask around, someone will pop up. I’ve been doing my very best to let everyone i know that i can help with learning about my culture or to find someone who would be more then happy to explain and share with other cultures. But when you go off of a documentary you saw of Genghis khan or only know of the tourist white people scenes of istanbul you as a community say some TRULY dumb shit.

I like to try and be patient because i myself when approaching someone of a culture i admire and am curious about i want that in turn. But if you say to me things like “Ainu aren’t real” or “Tatar people have nothing in common with tribes from the Altai mountains” its hard to do so.

FFXIV regions are not just “Germany” “Turkey” “Mongolia”. If you think this, it’s clear to me you don’t know shit and are too lazy to explore, further just google shit its not that hard. I had someone tell me that my people could never be in this game since its “Straight up mongolia” fucks sake NO ITS NOT. The designs vary and i can see the differences in simple things like words because i actually bother to do research even coming from a turkic culture. There were some beautiful little things dropped that linked to not only my people but others like Uyghur and Altai. The only place in FFXIV i think could only have a singular influence is Kugane, because from a foreigner’s perspective that’s already interesting enough. Many people have grievances and real issues with how SE has handled Doma’s influences and no one ever talks about that. Representation for asia in media has turned into this mess of specific east asian countries, the trio that even then gets categorized into China/Japan with brief mentions of Korean culture. 

Its frustrating. There are people who are happy to teach you. Who are willing to show what is wrong with the picture.

I have read several posts about Turkey/istanbul/Antalya. Yall fuckin weird you guys seem to think its in U.A.E or some shit with how you act. It’s in the Mediterranean/Europe/Asia/Middle East and there is no such thing as a specific looking Turkish person. You claim everyone is specifically white/brown, HELL NO. It’s a mixed nation and that’s the history of the land, if you had ever fucking stepped in turkey and spoke to any person on the street they’ll say their heritage that lead them to there. People claim Ala mhigo’s influences are turkey but i have yet to see that. As someone who has lived there and has heritage there and is strongly connected to that culture, i dont see it. sure the ala mhigan gown had patternings but thats also present in my nogai culture too because parts of turkey’s society descended from the line of the Kayi tribe. Just fucking LEARN TO READ GUYS. None of you guys even know what the altai mountains mean and i could sit and explain over and over again if you let people SPEAK.

Look at Thavnairian items. We have outfits that are completely different, a full length dress and then a bustier. you can’t start generalising things in video games to be one culture you have to realise most places in this game have several influences. We don’t know a lot but everything we have been given has been varied enough to pin point it to ONLY one influence.

I don’t want to just keep going about this simply because im growing frustrated.

The thing with Viera complaints. I think some are valid but some are stupid. For one as I make this post it hasn’t even been confirmed so there is no reason for policing Viera to a severe extent. Considering all the Ivalice content in game has been an alternate universe kind of thing its dumb as shit. But feol viera being made without understanding the knowledge that people who have played rw picked up is quite frustrating. As a community, its important to help people when we have information that others may need that they cant understand the context of.

I know people are worried about them being fetishized, that is my legitimate fear too as a huge ivalice fan. But this is a repeated cycle especially when we consider generalizations like miqo’te especially seekers and belly dancing or when au ra arrived and people thought xaela were genghis khan basically. 

The game is not solid, there are so many holes in the lore and the plots and i know people hate that but we fill the gaps with our own opinions and theories. While I understand some people think we need to move forward in 2019 because “japan is xenophobic”, its a very difficult thing to do. THEY DO HIRE PEOPLE FOR CULTURE ADVISING. THEY TRAVEL OFTEN AND DEVELOP WITH THIS. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY WENT ON GOOGLE AND SAID “yeah a japan land would be fun” they literally have people hired specifically for this stuff. however, at the end of the day its a company that has yet to show it can evolve with the times. Its becoming more and more evident with the recent patterns of main titles in FF and side projects having so many issues in story/lore/management. remember 1.0 basically died being absolute garbage and this is salvaged from that.

its really late and i had a terrible evening so i may not be making the most sense but theres more important things to worry about then to make this game a miserable experience when it could be a huge learning opportunity for everyone. There’s no need to generalise people into categories because of characters they choose to develop but its important to note with majority of people standing up higher on the pedestal are those speaking for the minorities groups that have direct influences in the game.

also lol if you fucking say ainu aren’t real to me one more time i will fucking throttle you