#wow okay brain. i thought up this photo a million years ago with just a vague sense of 'yeah that'd be fucked up'

[dailypokemoncrochet]

It's Friday the 13th and this is the spookiest photo I've taken of my Pokemon that I can think of off the top of my head

[mermaidsneedwater]

“did we do the right thing?” | jackson wang

This is the last part of my mini series! Thank you so much to everyone who read my work, your support is the reason I write. When I wrote the first drabble to this series, this was always how I imagined the story ending. I hope you guys enjoy it!

mini series page

You tugged on your husband’s arm as he escorted you up the stairs of the museum. Your dress had been dragging a bit and you’d wanted to collect it before the expensive item became ruined.

Noticing your gesture, your husband stopped. “You okay?”

“My dress is dragging, give me a minute” you smiled at him.

As the two of you continued up, you were met with the large banner that read 52nd Annual Music Therapy Benefit.

As your husband handed your tickets to the collector at the door, you were in awe of the building. They’d managed to rent the museum space out for the big fundraiser. Your husband, a patron of music therapy, had finally convinced you to attend the benefit with him this year.

“Donations will be accepted on the ground floor, but the entire museum is free for you to roam around including the roof. However museum rules remain intact so be sure not to touch anything.” The collector explained, handing the stub back. “You’re table is number 27.”

“Thank you,” your husband smiled. “Shall we?”

The two of you made your way in, joining a huge crowd of people munching on hors d'oeuvres and chatting. Taking in the sights, you were caught off guard when a lady brushed by your shoulder.

As you looked up to see who it was, you were met with a small apology and smile from none other than... Ariana Grande?

“I’m so sorry!” She apologized.

Starstruck, you managed a smile. “No please, it was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She smiled before continuing to walk with her date. You turned to your husband with your eyes widened. “Did I just bump into Ariana Grande?!”

“Yep.” He smiled.

“Oh my god, how come you never told me all these people would be at the benefit? I would’ve started coming years ago!” You scolded him.

Shaking his head, he laughed at your reaction. Bringing you to a small standing table, the two of you enjoyed small conversations with the other attendees at the benefit. After about twenty minutes, you were ready to explore the rest of the museum.

You informed your husband that you’d be walking around, he nodded letting you know that he’d wait for you back at the table. With his blessing, you moved to the elevator and began to make your way to the roof, eager to see the view from up there.

As the door swung open, you were surprised to see another figure already up there. Slowly, you walked over, standing next to the stranger.

“Pretty incredible right?” He said.

Frowning, you whipped around to look at his face. Even after all these years you knew that voice anywhere, it couldn’t be... Jackson?

Getting a good look at his face, you’d stumbled back before realizing your guess had been correct. “Jackson?!”

His eyes turned to meet yours, just as surprised that the two of you had found your way to each other amongst the crowd of the benefit.

“How are you-?”

“But- you”

“Wha- I don’t-“

The two of you struggled to find the words. The fortuitous moment had both of you unprepared for this scenario.

As you took in the sight of each other Jackson laughed, easing the tension.

“It’s been what? 15 years? Almost a decade and a half since I last saw you.” He smiled.

“Feels like a lifetime ago.” You shook your head.

“You’re just as I remember you.” He said fondly. “Well, almost. You have a few grey hairs now.”

“What?! Where?” You panicked, reaching up to fix your hair.

You watched Jackson laugh at his own teasing before rolling your eyes. “Still the same old Jackson I see.”

“Come on, I had to.”

As the two of you came down from the joke, a silence crept in. Awkwardly shifting side to side, you decided to say something.

“So how are you here?”

“My manager wanted me to make an appearance, generate some buzz for my new album, help the cause.” He replied. “I could ask you the same thing though, I didn’t think you were into music therapy.”

“My husband is.” You admitted. “He’s actually a brain surgeon at the city hospital. I’m his plus one.”

Jackson listened to your answer, his face hardening at the word husband. “Wow, a brain surgeon. He sounds pretty smart”

“Yeah.” You agreed awkwardly. “So what about you? Are you married?”

Jackson held up his hand to show you the ring on his finger. “Got the ring to prove it.”

As you glanced at the ring on his finger, you tried to ignore the feeling of your heart sinking in your chest. Why were you upset that he’d moved on? Not only had a good 15 years gone by, but you had moved forward in your life so why couldn’t he?

“We have a daughter, she just turned 4.” He told you, pulling out his phone to show you a picture of him, his wife, and his little girl.

Taking the phone in your hands, you had to admit, they were a beautiful family. Cooing over the photo you looked up at Jackson, “She’s so adorable! But you only have a daughter? I thought you wanted like five kids.”

I wanted that with you he caught himself thinking. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind Jackson spoke the first answer he could come up with.

“People change.” He shrugged. “Do you have kids?”

“Two boys. They’re 5 and 7” You replied, thinking about the little monsters sound asleep in your home. You loved them, but you couldn’t deny that they were hard work. It was then your turn to show him your kids. You pulled a photo of you and the two little boys and showed it to Jackson.

“They look wonderful.” He remarked.

“Yeah, they only look that way. Try getting them to eat their spinach during dinner, not so wonderful then.” You joked.

Jackson chuckled, “I know what you mean. My daughter refuses to eat anything but chicken.”

“I wonder where she got that from...”

Now it was Jackson’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” He watched as your giggles came to a full stop before he sobered up to ask his next question. “Are you happy?”

You watched as he searched in your eyes for the answer. Were you happy?

“Enough.” You told him. It was true, you were happy enough.

Life was good, you had a loving husband and two beautiful children. You couldn’t really complain, and yet...

“Are you?” You asked, turning the question back to him.

“Enough.” He echoed back to you, holding your gaze for a bit too long before turning back to look at the city skyline. He then cleared his throat, “So how would your husband feel about seeing you with me right now?”

You raised an eyebrow, “he would be fine with it. He knows I dated the famous Jackson Wang.”

“Really?”

“I don’t keep any secrets from him.” You informed him.

“Does he know we almost got engaged?” Jackson pressed you.

“It didn’t seem like an important detail to mention... What about your wife?”

“It never came up” Jackson admitted, so he hadn’t mentioned you to her.

And like that, you two had run out of things to talk about. You knew if the conversation continued any further you may say things you’d regret. So after 5 minutes you excused yourself and began to walk away, frightened that you wouldn’t be able to leave if you stayed any longer. You’d only been able to walk a few steps before Jackson was chasing after you.

“Wait! Y/N, stop.” He planted his feet in front of you, and reached out for your hand.

As your small hand came to be wrapped in his, Jackson swore he could feel sparks fly.

Unable to continue moving, you looked up at him expectantly, wanting to hear what he had to say, “Did we do the right thing?”

Looking up to meet his gaze, you could only reply “it doesn’t matter.”

Unsatisfied with your answer, he asked another question “Do you remember what I told you that day, when I left?”

Of course you did. The phrase had been eternally burned into your memory. I’ll never stop loving you.

You nodded silently, scared to repeat the words aloud.

“I meant it then and I still feel it now. Damn it, it’s been 15 years and it only took one conversation for it all to come rushing back. Can’t you see? There’s something here, something that’s bringing us together!”

Taken aback by his confession, you were at a loss for words. You’d never in a million years expect him to be so brazen, especially when he had a wife and small daughter.

But there were no new words left to speak between the two of you. You and Jackson had made choices, and now you were bound to the people you’d married and the families you’d created. No longer were you two young people who could throw caution to the wind and galavant into the sunset. Your moment had simply passed you by, and it would never come back.

You looked up to meet his eyes and softly pulled your hand away from his “I have to get back to my husband, he’s been waiting for me.”

And with that, you walked towards the door of the roof, forever leaving a piece of your heart behind with the boy who once had all of it.

return to masterlist

[papa-rhys]

Shared Empires (Rhys X Reader)

Note: Wow it’s literally been like over a year and a half since I wrote/posted fanfic, how do I even format this shit? I legit can’t remember so here goes

Warnings: none

Word count: 2131

Category: fluff

It’s been seven years since the fiasco with Handsome Jack and Hyperion, but you still can’t shake that blasted gaudy yellow colour from your mind’s eye whenever you see Rhys. 

             It’s hardly fair to keep associating him with the limp-dicked prick that awakened the Warrior - Rhys is the opposite of Jack in every way, except for the zeros in his bank account and the need to have an office with ceilings that are far too high (how are you supposed to kill spiders when they’re that high up?) Rhys is bumbly and friendly and harmless enough. And he’s better-looking, too. But that yellow colour is seared into your retinas for an eternity and there’s a tiny part of your unreasonable lizard brain that feels the need to point out Rhys’ involvement in what Hyperion did every time you come a little too close to enjoying yourself in his presence.

             Still, he’s paying your wages as of right now and a deal is a deal; help him win this war against Maliwan and he’ll make sure you never struggle for a meal again. And if there’s anything at all that you’re good at, it’s killing corporations dead in the water.

             “How you diddling, Mr Hyperion?” you ask, striding into Rhys office and feeling mighty proud of the frown you pull from him. This kind of tingle could only come from irking Rhys, you think. Or from finding the juicy photos Moxxi keeps stashed on her echo device.

             “I thought I told you not to call me that,” Rhys says, handing you a gun as you cross the floor of his office and reach him where he stands. 

             “You did,” you chirp, cheerfully, “I just didn’t listen. What’s this for?”

             Rhys straightens his back, puffs his chest out a little; all the hallmarks of a man who’s ever-so-proud of himself. He stands with his hands on his hips and his chin held high and you’re itching to throw out another teasing insult, just to bring him down a peg. It’s not fair to tease him so often and you know it, but lord is it fun to see him blush. And you’re, like, ninety percent certain he enjoys it, too.

             “That is the finest Atlas weapon on the market,” he informs you. “It’s a reward… for killing that nutjob with the miniguns... You’re welcome.” 

             You look the gun over and shrug with one shoulder, then you stash it in your backpack and shrug the bag off, lobbing it onto one of the too-big sofas in the lavish seating area of the office. There’s no way in any reality that Rhys reads enough books to justify the size of those bookshelves, but you suppose rich people have to spend their money on something.

             “What’s next on the to-do list, then, boss?” you ask, hopping up and sitting on the back of the sofa, swinging your legs back and forth.

             “Okay, I could really get used to you calling me boss,” Rhys says. “It’s... actually kind of a turn on, so let’s not talk about that anymore. Nothing is the answer to your question.” You pull your head back against the barrage of words that just flitted your way, but there’s no time to process them. Rhys is talking again. It seems he does that often. “There’s nothing on the to-do list,” he continues. “For once, we have a break in the chaos. Can’t tell you the last time that happened, I’m actually kinda miffed about it. I’m very accustomed to fearing for my life. But we’re off the clock for a while, so relish in the quiet for a while. You earned it!”

             You let yourself slip backwards onto the sofa, laying upside down and stretching your arms out each side of you. He’s not the only one who’s used to living a fast-paced life. Quiet is the exact opposite of your job description. Shooting, murdering, setting things on fire - all things that you’re far more suited to.

             “Whatever will I do with all of this free time?” you ask, gazing up at the ceiling and watching a spider making the trek from one side to the other. Maybe Rhys has a step ladder he uses to kill them?

             Rhys meddles with something out of view and music begins playing on a record player at the edge of the room - the soft, sweet kind that couples dance to; not the tedious wub-wubs that claptrap tortures you all with. Rhys comes back into view again when he leans over the back of the sofa, resting on his elbows. “We could try some dancing?” He says the words like he’s asking a question, wincing slightly as he tests the waters. 

             This is one of those moments that lizard brain ruins; reminding you of Rhys’ past and what it meant to you seven years ago. The fighting and the taunting and the constant cat and mouse. The people you lost, the ones you couldn’t save. Jack’s barrage of insults and moonshots; spat at you in equal measure. Rhys could have pushed the button on any one of those moonshots, your lizard brain suggests. He was complicit.

             But that was then, wasn’t it? And this is now. He learned lessons from Jack. He’s different. And there’s no point in fighting for the future if you still spend all of your time in the past. It’s okay to enjoy a little taste of what you’re fighting for.

             A smile spreads slowly across your lips and you cock an eyebrow. “You? Dancing? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

             “You’ve never seen my dancing,” he says accusingly, though there’s an upwards slant to one side of his mouth. “I have moves like no one else.” 

             “No doubt about that,” you tease, letting him help you up off the sofa.

             The music tinkles and hums in the background as the two of you head for the centre of the office, surrounded by nothing but empty space. You shake out your hands and feet, warming up like you’re gearing for battle, and Rhys shakes his head with a smile.

             “You really don’t know how to be graceful, do you?” he asks.

             “Don’t get paid to be graceful, Rhysie boy,” you reply, rolling your neck until it cracks softly. “I get paid to kill stuff.”

             “Well, let’s hang fire on that for now, shall we?” Rhys holds out his hands and you take them, letting him guide you. He’s better at dancing than you thought he’d be, but only slightly. Better - [quotation marks] - meaning he hasn’t yet tripped over his feet. But the night is still young, so you’ll not rule that out just yet.

             He spins you and dips you and you both mutter a wealth of light-hearted insults between the pair of you. His bright smile could almost trick you into thinking he’s good at this. That he’s not a bumbling idiot with a too-big office and two left feet. A part of him is actually quite suave... in his own way.

             “Am I impressing you?” he asks.

             “Give me a minute and I’ll decide,” you smile as he spins you around on the spot.

             “Oh, come on, I’m impressing you. Admit it, I’m great at this.”

             He pulls a laugh from you, and against your better judgement, you allow it. There’s no way he’ll ever let you forget it if you compliment him on his dancing skills, so you opt for something with a little more self-preservation. A safe middle ground.

             “You’re making a good effort,” you offer.

             “Pfft,” comes the reply. He twirls you outwards and pulls you back in again.

             “Okay then, hotshot,” you say, landing against his chest with a soft oof, the breath catching in your chest. “You’re a lot better than I expected you’d be. How’s that?”

             He grins widely, the smile reaching his eyes. One of them is blue, the other a hazel colour that looks almost as electronically enhanced as the other. Do eyes naturally come in colours that bright? There’s a moment that seems to stretch for an extraordinarily long length of time, where you find yourself questioning the bizarre and totally irrational urge to do something weird, like kissing him or something. What madness that would be, right? Crazy. 

             You’ve both slowed down, now, the dancing mostly forgotten. All that’s left is a gentle sway as he speaks. “I wanna ask you something,” he says. “But I’m a little bit terrified of you.”

             “A little bit terrified?” you echo. “No need to be scared of me unless you’re thinking about cutting my wages.”

             He gives a nervous laugh that fades off as quickly as it’d had appeared. “Your wages are safe with me,” he says. “But that’s kind of along the lines of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

             “Go on…”

             Rhys spins you around to face the window behind his desk, the entire city visible beyond it in all its glowing glory. The neon lights paint a million different colours on the floor of the office and the sky is speckled with explosions that almost look pretty if you imagine that they’re not a product of war. The whole office is flooded by the view, buildings visible through every window.

             “I wanna share this with you,” Rhys says. “All of it.”

             “What do you mean?” you ask him, the light flooding your eyes, overloading you with input.

             “I don’t want all this to myself,” he explains. “It’s too much. Kingdoms are meant to be shared, right? Well, I wanna share this one with you. If you’d want that, obviously.”

             “You mean, like, business partners?”

             He laughs, nervous again. “If business partners are in love with each other, then yeah, I guess.” 

             You turn to face him and look up at him with your eyebrows raised. Now it’s your turn to blush; not an easy task for someone to accomplish. Touche, Mr Hyperion.

             “I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” he asks, watching you as you look up at him, slightly dumbfounded. Then he seems to cave in on himself a little, shoulders slumping. “I know you’re only here because I’m paying you to be here and I know you’re waaaaay too cool to ever feel that way about an idiot like me, but I figured I’d give it a try anyway, you know? And see if maybe you’d - “

             You push up onto your toes and press a kiss to his lips, cursing him for being lanky enough to make you put effort into kissing him. If he were any taller, you’d need a harness and those stabby things that rock climbers jab into cliff faces. 

             He holds onto your waist as you kiss and for all his bumbling and lack of self-assurance, he soon takes to it, cupping your jaw with one hand and leaning down to meet you halfway.

             Your own hands take hold of the collar of his vest, gripping fabric on either side and using it to pull him towards you. With shuffling steps, the two of you are edging towards the desk as one, all stumbling and heavy breathing, carefully making your way up the shallow steps, until you hit the edge of the desk. 

             “I don’t think this is an appropriate way to act with your employees,” you breathe.

             “Then you’re fired,” Rhys says. “There; now you’re not an employee.”

             Your heart hammers in your chest, pulse thrumming in your ears to match the beat. Wobbly legs and and a woozy light-headedness tell you that your body is pumping adrenaline through you at record pace. It’s different than the feeling you get on the battlefield; you feel so much more out of your depth here. Out there, you have a rhythm - motions to go through. Routine. But here, you’re just going with the flow, not quite knowing what you’re doing. A new partner means a new rhythm. A new pattern to be learned. What makes Rhys tick? What does he like and dislike? What does he - 

             “Oh!” 

             The two of you break apart at the sound of the voice coming from the doorway. Surprise in both of your faces matches the surprise in Lorelei’s voice. She watches you with her arms folded across her chest and her hip jutted out to one side as you and Rhys gather yourselves up.

             “If I had a dollar for every time I’d walked in on you in a compromising position, I’d be able to buy you out,” she tells Rhys. He smiles uncomfortably and fixes his tie. “But this takes the bloody cake,” she adds.

             “We were celebrating,” you offer.

             Lorelei hums. “I’ll bet,” she says, looking amused. “But you were celebrating prematurely. Maliwan just showed up at the front door and they’re not bothering to ring the doorbell. Need you outside, Vault Hunter.”

             Rhys sighs heavy and turns to you, the last traces of his pant visible in the way his chest moves with each breath. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

             “Yeah,” you agree, sighing. You smooth out your hair and make your way over to the seating area to collect your backpack, crossing the room on shaky legs. Hauling your bag onto your shoulders, you pick out your favourite gun and check that it’s loaded. “Alright,” you muse, nodding to Rhys and then to Lorelei, “back to work, then.”

[empaths-hsp]

7 ‘Rules’ for Highly Sensitive People to Protect Their Energy

Anyone is welcome in my world, but there are a few rules, because I’m choosing to no longer be manipulated or shamed for being sensitive.

I am a highly sensitive person, and if I’m being honest, it’s not easy being me. I am not like other people, and sometimes I don’t fit in. I have little patience for shallow conversation, arbitrary rules, loud, disorganized environments, hate, or purposeful unkindness. I can “feel” it when we connect, and I am very aware when we don’t. I am interested in conversations that get to the root of things. I am not interested in listening to what you think I want to hear.

However, I haven’t always been able to express these preferences. I grew up believing I was too sensitive. I formed thick barriers around myself to guard against emotion. Emotion, in my world, could and would be used against me.

Unfortunately, blocking out mad or sad feelings also blocks out happy ones. At that point in my life, I was not a happy person. Trying to fit in and make people like me was exhausting. I was not able to say no, simply because I wanted approval — and I ended up resenting the demands that I allowed others to make on me.

A Life-Changing Realization

Later in life, I learned that I’m a highly sensitive person — and this changed everything for me. To put it simply, everyone has a sensitive side, but roughly 1 in 5 people are more sensitive than others, or what researchers call highly sensitive people (HSPs). HSPs tend to process information very deeply, which can make them quite gifted — but it also means they “burn through” a lot of mental energy. Too much stimulation completely drains them.

(Wondering if that might be you? Here are the signs you are a highly sensitive person.)

Today, I’m working toward living a more authentic life, and that starts with self-care. Despite all the photos brightly splashed around Instagram, “self-care” was a new term for me. I’ve since learned that good self-care isn’t just a bubble bath — it’s also about setting the right boundaries. Anyone is welcome in my world, but there are a few rules. I’m choosing not to be manipulated, guilted, or shamed into doing things that don’t align with my vision for a healthy life.

You know the craziest part? I have way better relationships and a stronger sense of belonging now. So here are seven “rules” I follow that I hope will help you, too.

7 ‘Rules’ for Sensitive People

1. If you’re not nice, you cannot come here.

For HSPs, other human beings are the brightest thing on their mental radar, all on account of their brain wiring. So when someone makes passive-aggressive comments, I notice. I usually don’t acknowledge it, but you better believe I caught it. Likewise, when the conversation veers toward gossip, it can be so easy to get sucked into the negativity, and it always makes me feel awful just for having participated in any way. And, if you talk down to me or make me feel judged for not liking what you like, that’s not okay either.

Sure, I will be gracious to you if we come in contact, but you are not welcome in my home, nor will I attend one of your functions. The energy that emanates from negativity is like poison to HSPs, and it’s dangerous for our mood and outlook to absorb. So I avoid these people at all costs.

2. No takers.

Highly sensitive people are givers by nature. Empathetic and caring, we want to help whenever possible. But there will always be some people who abuse our generosity. These people are called takers, according to psychologist Adam Grant, and they focus only on getting as much as they can from others. Spending too much time with them actually makes me feel physically sick from the exhaustion.

You know the type. These are the ones who always want something, are always complaining, or are always playing the victim. Or the one who always has to one-up you: “Well, if you think that’s bad, you should hear about what happened to me.” These people will suck you dry of your mental and physical energy if you allow them to. If they could, they would have you taking their children to soccer practice and making them dinner while they’re at the spa!

3. Stop the glorification of busy.

We live in a culture that glorifies being busy. If you’re not constantly running around, getting things done, then you’re not productive, maybe even lazy. However, this is not the case, especially for highly sensitive people, who need more downtime than others to recharge. If you’re constantly run down, can’t commit to anything, don’t have time to help out a friend once in a while, or are continuously stressed and frazzled, it’s time to reevaluate. Ask yourself: Are you living life the way you want to, or do you feel as if you’re spinning like a top and barely hanging on for dear life? Do you do things you enjoy, even just occasionally?

I used to think I had to prove my worthiness with a rundown of all my appointments, soccer games, clubs, Society of Martyrs meetings, etc. Now, I am delightfully, unapologetically un-busy. I take time to drink a cup of tea and play with my kids. You want to meet for coffee? Sure, I got time. As a highly sensitive person, I love meaningful conversations over a hot beverage.

And yes, of course, I have a million things to do, but I have prioritized and eliminated the things from my to-do list that don’t fit with my vision for my life — or at least my vision for today. Some days are busy and it can’t be helped. I acknowledge that. I’m not saying you should quit your job and stop feeding your kids! Obviously, some things are mandatory.

But seriously, prioritize. Your worthiness is not attached to your productivity, so don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.

4. ‘No’ is a complete answer.

You don’t need a reason to say “no.” People almost never ask why. If saying no right away feels too uncomfortable, buy yourself some time to answer. For example:

Pushy PTA lady: “Can you make three dozen cupcakes for the bake sale?”

You: “Wow, I’d love to help with the bake sale, but I should check my schedule first. I’ll get back to you.”

This gives you time to give it some thought. Maybe you do want to do it. But if you don’t, it gives you time to come up with an alternative solution, like purchasing cupcakes rather than baking them.

If someone will not take no for an answer, it might be time to sit down and discuss boundaries. I find this happens most often within families. If you fail to lay out boundaries, trust me, you will live in resentment. I know, because I’ve been there. Having an honest conversation can be hard, especially for us highly sensitive people since conflict can be overstimulating for us. But, in the long run, resentment can be much harder on a relationship than an honest conversation.

(If you have trouble saying no, here are some tips.)

5. It’s okay to feel “too much.”

Especially right now, this world can feel so sad, broken, and lonely, and nobody feels that deeper than a highly sensitive person. But as sensitive people, we may bottle up our true feelings because we don’t want others to think we’re “too much” — and this is dangerous. Obviously, there is a time and a place for everything. The important thing is to make space to process your feelings.

If you’re not sure how to do that, start with journaling, which can be especially helpful for HSPs during troubled times. Trust me, feelings that go unacknowledged don’t just disappear. They lay dormant and come out in ways that are almost always negative and destructive. Have you ever snapped at your spouse and thought, where in the world did that come from? Maybe it was because he forgot to bring home that loaf of bread — last week — and you were still holding onto anger. Journaling will help you process your emotions, everything from frustration with your spouse to anxiety about the world at large.

6. Read a little every day.

I know I’m not the only highly sensitive person who drinks in books. I need words like I need food. There were many years when I did not make the time to read. I thought it was selfish.

But reading is the kind of downtime that soothes and informs. It’s a win-win. There’s nothing better than the connectedness that happens when words written decades, or even centuries, ago speak to one’s heart and remind us that we are not alone.

Like what you’re reading? Get our newsletter just for HSPs. One email, every Friday. Subscribe here.

7. Not everything is about you.

Dear sensitive soul, you are different. You process things differently and more fully than others do. You are going to pick up on things that are not meant for you.

I wish someone had told me these words years ago. I used to take things very personally until I realized that the moods and attitudes of others rarely have anything to do with me. This was a lightbulb moment for me because I didn’t realize that most people don’t notice as much as I do. Now that I know, I can put things in perspective and let them go. She may not have answered my text because she’s busy, not because she’s angry at me, I tell myself.

Alternatively, others won’t always pick up on the signals that I put out. I used to think I was being obvious about my needs, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t stating them clearly. Learning how to speak up for my needs was a real turning point for me. And with that came the realization that people are not going to love me in the same way that I love them — in a way that only a highly sensitive person can — but that doesn’t mean their love is less.

HSP, it’s not selfish to care for yourself. It’s not selfish to schedule downtime. When you have rules that protect your energy, you are at your best for the people who need you. You will find yourself more willing and able to be generous without feeling resentful.

Find ways that work for you that get you closer to your vision of the life you want. If people and situations make you uncomfortable, there is a reason for that. Trust those instincts, because they will help you create the life you want.

You might like:

How Highly Sensitive People Can Stop Saying Yes When They Want to Say No

8 Tips for HSPs to Take ‘Little’ Things Less Personally

These 21 Things Stress Out Highly Sensitive People the Most

The post 7 ‘Rules’ for Highly Sensitive People to Protect Their Energy appeared first on Highly Sensitive Refuge.

from Highly Sensitive Refuge https://ift.tt/32yqrmW

[glenncoco4]

Chapter 29

A/N: More reuniting!

XXXX

The young agent is pacing back and forth across her and Marty’s living room. “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.”

She stops in her tracks, worriedly looking at her mother. “It’s a really big deal and I don’t know how you’re going to react. So can you just promise me that you’ll listen before you say anything?”

“Okay, Kensi, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

The special agent takes out her phone, sending off a quick text to her husband.

A few minutes later the two women watch as Marty steps through the front door and he’s not alone. 

Julia freeze when he steps through the doorway. Before she knows it, her legs are moving faster than her brain can process. 

Donald opens his arms as she bolts towards him. He lets out a grunt at the force she propels herself into his arms. 

The older brunette’s mind is spinning. Her husband whom she thought was dead has his arms wrapped around her. She thought that she might be dreaming, but the strength in his hold makes her think that maybe it is all real and somehow her dreams have come true. “You’re real. Please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

The former marine tightens his hold on his wife and just breathes in her scent. “I’m real. I’ve missed you so much, Juls.” 

The younger couple watches on as her parents reunite after being apart for so long. Marty wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her into his body and places kiss to the top of her head. “I guess what they say is true.”

Kensi wraps her arms around his waist, taking in the beautiful scene that plays out before her. Her parents are back together. The little girl inside her is in complete and utter disbelief because she never knew she wanted this to happen until now. “What’s that?”

“Love conquers all.”

She looks up into his eyes and can’t help the sheen of tears reflect in her eyes. 

His eyes lock with hers and he can she the joy of a little girl getting something back that she once lost. Leaning down, he presses his forehead to hers, saying nothing and everything at the same time. 

XXXX

Kensi and Marty make their way into the kitchen to give the lost loves time to catch up. For some reason she thought that her mother would be more upset with her father’s sudden resurrection. She thinks about what her husband said earlier about love conquering all and how true it rings. 

She looks at him, leaning against the counter and the trance he seems to put her in every time she looks at him. If she were to put herself in her mother’s shoes and something were to tragically happen to Marty and he died, but then years later suddenly shows up at her doorstep of course it wouldn’t matter to her. She would absolutely not think about anything other than the fact that she had him back.

As the thought of her loosing him creeps into her mind, she’s filled with an agony she’s never known before. 

Marty sees the lost look on his loves eyes and walks over to her. The tears he’s met with when she lifts her head breaks his heart into a million little pieces. He knows where her head went because his went there too. 

His arms wrap tight around her and a sense of love, complete and unadulterated love washes over her entire being. He does that for her. “I love you. I love you so much, Marty.”

“I love you, too, baby. There are no words that describe how much I love you.” Her fingers grasp his shirt, she can’t seem to get close enough to him. 

They stay wrapped up in each others arms until Julia and Donald walk into the kitchen with bright smiles on their faces. 

Marty looks down at their intertwined fingers, making his lip curl up into a smile. He nudges his wife to look, but her eyes are already there, looking. 

“So are you two-“ There’s almost a childlike sounding hope in the tall brunette’s voice as she moves her finger back and forth between her parents. 

“We’re-“ Julia’s not quite sure how to answer her daughter but her husband gladly takes over. 

The older man can see the hope in his little girl’s eyes and can’t help but think the same is mirrored in his. He nods as he tries to get the words out. “We’re working it out.” At those words, the former marine sends a wink in his son-in-law’s direction.  

They’ve become quite close over the past few days, Marty and Donald. Kensi didn’t think they would get along being so different and all, but just like with her the two bonded from the start. 

“So, Julia, I have something for you.” The shaggy blonde reaches for his wallet and brings out the old picture, handing it over to its rightful owner. 

“Oh, thank god. I thought I lost it.”

“You kept it all this time. You kept it safe.”

“No, it kept me safe.”

Donald wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulder, a content smile crossing his face as he places a kiss to the crown of her head. 

Kensi smiles that her parents and curls into her husband. Yeah, life can’t get much better than this. “You know, I never heard the story behind that picture.” 

The man seems a bit embarrassed at the attention being put on himself. He’s always been a private person when it concerns matters of the heart. “It’s nothing major.”

Julia whips her head to look at the man she fell in love with so long ago. “Are you kidding, Don? It’s when I first knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He runs back from the bus that’s suppose to take him to base and towards his girlfriend who will hopefully become his wife once he gets back from deployment. “Julia, wait.” The marine reaches into his pocket and pulls out a photo of himself. “Here, I want you to have this.”

“Why do I need this?”

Reaching for her hand, he rubs soft circles on her wrist. “To remind you that no matter where I am in this world, no matter how far apart we are, I’ll always be with you. You have my heart, Juls, and you’ll always have it.” He places one last kiss to her lips before backpedaling to his bus. “I love you.”

The young brunette smiles tearfully at his retreating form. She didn’t even get to tell him that he has her heart, too. He always will. “I love you, too.” 

Kensi’s shocked at the romantic that she never knew her father was. “Wow!” She wonders why if her mom loved her dad so much why would she leave. “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, mom, but if you loved him so much then why did you leave him?”

“Kensi.” She hears a warning tone in her father’s voice. One that she hasn’t heard in seven years.

“No, Don, it’s okay.” The older brunette walks across the room and reaches for her daughter’s hand. “Because, Kensi, I didn’t know how to handle being a marine’s wife anymore. And neither of you know this but a few months after you ran back to your father I was gonna come back home to you two.”

Kensi looks to her father, wondering if he knew. 

“I saw what life was like without your father and without you and I couldn’t go on. I wanted my family back and I was prepared to do whatever it took for you two to forgive me.”

“But even after dad’s accident, you didn’t even come back for me. Why?”

“Because, baby, I thought you would’ve blamed me for it. And I didn’t want that to be our relationship for the rest of our lives.”

Kensi pulls aways from her husband and wraps her arms around her mother in a loving embrace. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

The women are drawn out of their moment when their respective husbands both wrap their arms around them in one giant hug and can’t help but laugh as they speak in unison. “And we love you both.” 

They may be weirdos. But they’re each other’s weirdos. Their broken family is being mended and they couldn’t be more grateful. 

[citylightsbooks]

A Chat with Beth Lisick

Edie on the Green Screen is an irreverent love-letter to San Francisco, chronicling the story of a 90s "It girl" as she ages-in-place and confronts the Bay Area tech monoculture. The author, Beth Lisick, is also an actress, co-founder of the Porchlight Storytelling Series, and one of the sharpest, quick-witted people that we know. You can read more about Beth here. Edie on the Green Screen is her first novel.

On April 1st, 2020, City Lights planned to celebrate the publication at the bookstore. Given the “Shelter in Place” order by the city of San Francisco, staff retreated to their homes, and City Lights continued to work, remotely. Stacey Lewis, VP, Director of PR, Marketing & Sales, conducted a Twitter chat on April Fool’s Day with Beth reporting from her living room in Berkeley, CA. Here follows a transcript of that conversation. 

City Lights: Beth!!! Where are you?

I'm in New York, kinda near Woodstock and Kingston.

What are you doing to stay sane?

I’m cooking a lot! And trying to go out on hikes. Hanging out with my husband and son and also my brother’s family.

For how long did you work on your novel?

This is embarrassing to say but I wrote the first words of it almost 10 years ago!

Are you in a writing group? Or do you share things with particular friends for feedback?

I’ve never been in a formal writing group but I have a few friends, writers and non-writers alike, that I will share things with.

Prior to working with the independent, Brooklyn-based 7.13 Books on Edie on the Green Screen, you’ve had books w/ Manic D Press: Monkey Girl & This Too Can Be Yours

Thank God for Jennifer Joseph and Manic D. I think today is Jen’s birthday!

Happy birthday Jen Joseph!! And Everybody Into the Pool & Helping Me Help Myself with Harper Collins.

My brief foray into mainstream publishing.

And Yokohama Threeway: And Other Small Shames pub’d by City Lights (hell YES!)  

Ah! That felt niiiiiice.

What are some of the differences you noticed working with indie vs corporate presses?

A lot of it has to do with the publicity and marketing part. On mainstream presses I always felt like I had to convince them that I was worthwhile. Their budgets aren’t necessarily going to you anyway and I feel much more comfortable with my indie press relationships. More personal.

Can you talk about your publisher 7.13 Books and how you came to work with them? 

My friend Alex Behr was published by 7.13 and she introduced me to Leland [Leland Cheuk, publisher of 7.13 Books]. He is from the Bay Area but lives in Brooklyn now. He understood my Bay Area vibe! He is committed to doing debuts, but since this was my debut novel, he squeezed me onto the roster.

For how long have you lived away from the Bay Area?

It will be eight years this summer! So long. But luckily I come back a lot for Porchlight and to see my friends and parents.

Your novel clearly pulls from your own experiences in the Bay. How did you recall the memories? Do you keep a journal?

I keep various notebooks and write notes in my phone. I also like to quiet my brain and sort of meditate memories or experiences into my consciousness. (clearly from Northern California)

I was thinking that. Did the physical distance from San Francisco give you freedom to write about it?

YES. Even more than I imagined. I had a lot more free time once I moved to New York because I didn’t know anyone. It was a nice way to get a different perspective. Being across the country.

Do you think it would have been harder constructing this story if you were still living here?

Yes. I had gotten myself into a place where I was so upset with the changes in the Bay Area that I was too crabby to write about it. The first drafts were very cynical and angry. It’s hard not to feel like it’s been taken over. I like to think that even though there are huge buildings and all that money and new people who don’t seem to care about the things I cared about, that those things will still surface.

I bet. I'm going to light some incense. Hope you don't mind.

Burn that sage, sister. By the way, I am using voice text because my Internet connection is kind of slow. Caveat for every typo or mistake!

I wish we could hear your voice.

My audiobook is almost done! It’s the first time I’ve ever been able to record my own audiobook so I’m really excited about it.

CL: Oh! I can't wait to hear that!!! San Francisco was, for many of us in the 80s & 90s, a place to continue “growing up,” as we could afford to do so. Edie, in the novel, is so relatable. What is it about her that makes her so stubborn to change?  

Edie’s whole personality was shaped by bands and bars and art and a certain aesthetic that was prevalent in San Francisco in the 90s. When that disappears, she’s not quite sure what to do.

Sorry, I had to step away to wash my hands.

What song did you sing?

Rapper's Delight.

Hero!

No, you are my hero. And, you are truly bi-coastal, regularly coming back to SF to co-host the wonderful Porchlight Storytelling Series, and to see your family. What’s it like having deep roots on both coasts?

If I can’t be a true bisexual at least I can be bi-coastal. And I do love living in New York so I’m still glad that I moved. I like being so deeply from the Bay Area and knowing it so well. And I also love the anonymity of being in New York. No millions of old personal stories to trip you up or slow you down.

Or running into anyone you slept with. Speaking of the Porchlight, what have you learned about storytelling after so many years of organizing these events?

I think that's why I was able to write this book. I have learned so much from the way people tell stories at Porchlight. Not only structurally but as far as really paying attention to what feels authentic and what feels put on.

If you had a piece of advice to share with your younger self, what would it be?

Maybe to step back and listen even more. I was so energetic and enthusiastic about putting myself out there in my 20s but I learned so much once I shut up and chilled out a bit.

@Superprose1 asks: Curious ~ how does novel writing compare to memoir ?

It felt very liberating to me to write a novel after writing so much memoir. I didn’t have to worry about being accurate, I could just be truthful. I could try out different thoughts and feelings on another character without having to claim it as my own. 

***

Speed round time!

Ready!

Write what comes to your mind when I say . . . Burrito

El Farolito

UC Santa Cruz [Both Beth and I are proud Slugs.]

Drum circle

“Law & Order” [Beth has appeared as an extra on the show]

Sitting in the jury box.

Hummus

Santa Cruz

Juice Cleanse

I’d totally do it.

Unknown knowns

Astral projection. I’m learning a lot about what a big hippie I am.

It's cause yer near Woodstock.

* * *

Pictures of you.  I present: “Beth Lisick: This is Your Life”

OH GOD!!! Are there nudes?

Tell us what’s going on here.

I worked for @fruitguys for years as a banana mascot. I got to travel all over the country. This is me at the San Francisco Marathon.

That’s me and @captaindingbat [writer, actress, and author Tara Jepsen] doing our characters Carole and Mitzi. They only eat pancakes! This is a still from our web series Rods and Cones. 

This is a still from a film I acted in by Kara Herold. Called 39 1/2. It shot for six years and I was 47 by the time it was done.

That’s me and Jan Richman when we went on the Richard Simmons fitness cruise! It was for a chapter in my book Helping Me Help Myself. I love Richard!! 

Okay! You got me here! Where was this? Look how giant that headband is! And how did I get that amount of cleavage, which is huge for me.

This was at my gangster party many years ago. My roommate Marisa referred to your hairstyle as "the claw."

Wow. I remember that party now. I love seeing photos I've never seen before in outfits I haven't thought about in years. I must have been breastfeeding still. 

Taken by Frazer Bradshaw at Sundance. It was his first feature film (and mine too) and it went to Sundance in 2008. It’s called Everything Strange and New. It’s really beautiful. We were backstage and there was popcorn on the floor so it seemed natural to be photographed with it.

* * *

I want to thank Beth Lisick—always my It Girl—for joining us!

Stacey! Thank you so much for doing this. I miss you and everyone at City Lights. Can’t wait to see you all real soon. Lots of love!

I’m going to leave you with a video of The Beth Lisick Ordeal, in their prime. Enjoy!

[spideychelleforever]

When Spider-MJ Survived the Snap But Peter Didn’t, p.3

It took hours until apparently every single drop of water in MJ’s body had finally left her body in the form of tears. Nat ordered her to drink water and eat some chocolate, because her body just couldn’t take this much in such a short amount of time, she warned. But even after hydrating herself and getting a little boost from the sensation of chocolate, MJ was still just a wreck on the couch under some covers.

Steve was busy ripping himself to pieces for bringing MJ to the cabin, Scott could only sadly listen as Steve explained the situation to him, and Nat was eating again as they eventually put in a call to Bruce. They all agreed to leave MJ at the compound, with FRIDAY on standby to watch over her and provide for her.

After a few hours of watching old reruns of Family Matters, MJ switched off the TV, nimbly curling up, until she got the urge to get on her phone. Sucking in a deep breath, she scrolled to the album on her phone she so rarely visited these days, an album called, “My loser ❤️💘”

In the album were the photos from happier days. When MJ could hear Peter laugh, see him smile, and be with him, even just for a while. She tried to remember his high, soft voice, how awkward and stupid he would be, and how he was the ultimate sweetheart to her, even though he probably never reciprocated her feelings for him. It was a terrible truth, she figured, but it was even more terrible that he lost his life, she thought.

Eventually Bruce was on board, and soon Tony, Nebula, Rocket, Rhodey, Clint, and Thor. The last Avengers trying to save the fallen.

[[MORE]]

When the time came for their first test run, Clint returned from the Quantum Realm with his eyes more alive than they’d been the entire time since he rejoined them. MJ considered things. How if even someone as distraught and hellbent on revenge as Clint could actually bear to have hope... maybe she could too.

But just as quickly, she was devoured by the new status quo - the irreparable mourning, the heartache, the longing to see Peter again.

They strategized on when and where to find the Stones. When Nat pointed out that in 2012, there were three Stones in New York, MJ immediately volunteered for it without thinking. She didn’t know why at first. The sad truth was, she didn’t think they’d survive their mission, even if they had successfully engineered time travel, so it should’ve made no difference which team she joined.

But then, something clicked in her memory. Something pretty obvious in hindsight, but stupid nonetheless.

If she went back to New York in 2012... there might, might just be a chance that she could...

***

She arrived in the alley with Steve, Tony, Scott, and Bruce. As Bruce went for the Sanctum Santorum and Steve prepared to infiltrate Stark Tower, MJ went with Tony and the shrunken Scott to hide around the perimeter of the tower until the battle had ended.

“You ready, Jones?” Tony turned to MJ. “Remember, just watch my six while I sneak in. You’re more observant than anyone on this team so I know you’ll watch my ass better than I ever could.”

MJ mused that it was hardly difficult for her to keep tabs on Tony. If she could covertly sneak glances all day at the boy she had a ginormous crush on, watching a billionaire in his suit would be easy.

Then it hit her; that Tony didn’t want to put too much pressure on her. She’d always had some mixed feelings about Tony, but right now? She had a rush of something like gratitude, even if the voice in the back of her head griped that he didn’t trust her with a bigger role than guard duty.

Now, that same voice reminded her why she wanted to come to New York in 2012.

“I see something,” MJ lied.

“Wait! What is it?!” Scott asked in alarm over the comms, while Tony whizzed around to MJ in a similar state.

“Hang back, I’ll check it out,” MJ curtly muttered as she quickly webbed off - to Queens.

****

“That was FREAKING EPIC!!!”

The small, curly haired eleven-year-old boy with an already dazzling smile and glasses and baby fat turned to grin at his heavier set best friend.

“I know! Oh, I hope they make a movie about Iron Man fighting the aliens! With the Avengers! What if we were in it?!” The curly-haired boy excitedly jumped up and down, oblivious to what had just knocked at Earth’s door. All Peter Parker cared about was the fun his hero just had - the same hero who had helped him fight off the rogue robots two whole years ago, or whatever they were. He even complimented him - “nice work, kid!” Little Peter didn’t stop excitedly babbling the entire day. Today he got to see him fly by, too. How lucky was he?!

MJ finally arrived across the street from her destination. There it was - the same apartment complex she held so dear to her heart. It wasn’t like she was back in the 50’s, so it didn’t look strange to her or anything. It looked perfectly normal. Plants were on windowsills, people were walking in and out, two boys were already playing outside-

And that made her freeze. Because even when he was several years younger, younger now than he had been when they first met in middle school, she recognized Peter Benjamin Parker playing with Ned Leeds.

She watched in awe. The sheer impossibility of what she was seeing seemed to really hit her. She’d told herself a long time ago she’d never see Peter again. There’d be pictures and videos but she wouldn’t-she wasn’t supposed to see him alive again. She gaped seeing his bright, smiling face, the furthest from his sorrowful, pained dying expression.

MJ watched him as he turned his back to her. She was just about to pull her mask off for a better breathing experience when Peter stopped in place - and turned to directly look at her.

She froze as she heard him excitedly yell at Ned “LOOK LOOK ITS A SUPERHERO!!!!”

MJ’s brain nearly collapsed. How - HOW?!

Ned turned to look too. “OH MY GOD DUDE!!!”

Both kids were now whooping and waving hi at the masked hero on the roof across the street, screaming hi and trying to get her to come over. Realizing she shouldn’t draw attention to herself any more and that screaming kids is a good way to draw attention, she sighed, and webbed over to them.

“WOW!” Peter’s little face was wide and awed. “You’re amazing, miss!!! Are you like a Spider-Woman?”

MJ didn’t know what to say to the little boy.

Like, did she tell him to never go to the research facility with the radioactive spiders? Did she tell him to come with her? Did she tell him that one day he would die a horrible, prolonged, painful death at the hands of a monster who was behind the alien invasion he saw today as a little eleven year old boy? That he was breaking her heart with every breath he took, completely oblivious of the fact that he would take his last breath in six years time, far away from home? That his best friend and his aunt would also die the same day?

“Is everything okay?” Peter suddenly asked, his face turning thoughtful and concerned. “You seem upset?”

MJ fretted. It was... it was getting harder to breathe, and... Bruce did say nothing they did would change their time, right? So.. so..

“Oh hold on, I’ll call my aunt May-“

“No,” MJ stopped him. “It’s okay, I-just a second.”

And she took off her mask, and looked down at the two boys as placidly as she could.

“Wowwwwww,” Peter gasped as he looked up at her in pure awe.

MJ tilted her head a little in confusion at him. “Um, well, so, I’m sorry for spying on you guys, I was... helping the Avengers scout the perimeter,” she lied. “And yeah, sometimes the mask gets kinda hot for me.”

“I think Peter thinks you’re really hot, too,” Ned giggled. Peter shot a sudden, venomous look at his best friend. “Dude!!!”

Now that- that took MJ by surprise. “I’m sorry?”

And Peter’s cheeks turned pink to answer her confusion. “No! Girls are icky! I just like your hair Miss, and you’re-you’re really pretty!” He spluttered.

“He wants to know how old you are!” Ned guffawed. That did the trick, and Peter began shoving him in annoyance. And MJ did something she hadn’t done in... god knows how long.

She laughed.

She couldn’t control it either, but finally, a laugh erupted from her body as she watched the young Peter and Ned argue and shove each other.

Finally, the bickering subsided, and they turned back to the tall, beautiful superhero. “Do you have to get back to patrol, Miss?” Peter asked.

“I probably do,” MJ smiled. Again, another rare occurrence, and she knew exactly why it was happening. “You two should probably go back inside too. All the alien radiation and stuff.”

“Oh no, I don’t wanna grow an extra arm!” Ned laughed. “Come on, Peter!”

“Aww, but I wanna stay with you!” Peter whined - and took MJ by surprise again by taking her much larger hand with his smaller ones. “Do you wanna get ice cream?”

MJ didn’t have time to gape because she heard another familiar voice. “Peter, Ned, come inside!”

Peter whined, “Aww, but Aunt May!”

“Come on, kiddo, listen to your aunt!” This time, a male voice was the source.

“Oh, okay, Uncle Ben,” Peter pouted. He looked back up at MJ. “Sorry, Miss, I don’t wanna go, but I have to.”

“It’s okay,” MJ nodded. “You two be safe.”

“We will!” Peter smiled. “Say hi to Iron Man for me!!” He waved at her as he and Ned turned to go back up the steps to Peter’s apartment complex. Ned went in first, but Peter turned back one last time, his cheeks turning pink again as he waved to MJ.

MJ put her mask back on, unable to process what had just happened. She webbed herself back up to higher ground and began making her way back to Stark Tower.

She’d seen a young boy, happy and innocent, playing with his best friend and admiring superheroes, and going to lunch with his aunt and uncle. That boy would grow up to be a superhero, an Avenger, who devoted his life to protecting and helping the innocent. Who never lost his trademark niceness even despite all the stress and trauma of losing his uncle and the perils of being a superhero. Who never failed to ask MJ how her day was despite having a million and one things to worry about himself. Who never stopped caring about her, regardless of whether or not he ever liked her back.

MJ stopped on one roof as something else hit her. Peter never stopped caring about anyone, not just her. He had a heart big enough to love everyone and help everyone.

So she needed to as well.

She looked out at the city, a chunk of it smoking from the invasion. She looked back towards Queens, then up to where the portal had been, and finally back to Stark Tower.

This time, she ran across the rooftop and jumped as high as she could before webbing her way onward. She didn’t let herself plummet anymore than needed. She didn’t just web her way up. She rose.

Her friends needed her. Peter needed her. And she needed herself, too. She needed the strength of the girl who led the AcDec team, who became a superhero alongside Peter, who defied his wishes to follow him into space, who fought against the madman who took Peter from her.

Finally, after five years of eating her feelings, sleeping way too much, crying over photos in her phone, raging at herself for something that wasn’t her fault, it had happened.

Finally, for the first time, she believed that the Avengers would succeed in bringing back their lost friends and half the universe.

Michelle Jones was back.

And finally, for the first time in five years... she was alive.

[some1foundme]

Repost: The Long Way Home

Chapter Four is up on AO3!

Chapter Four

She woke from the nightmare with a strangled gasp filling the otherwise quiet bedroom.  Ray was stretched out beside her, his head turned away, snoring softly. The light coming in through her window was dull and told her that dawn was approaching.

Her talk with Moira the previous afternoon had been tense and awkward.  Oliver’s mother had never truly liked her or approved of her relationship with Oliver but she’d always been civil.  It had been odd talking to her knowing that the last time they’d spoke had been the night before Felicity had left the island.  She wasn’t surprised that she’d had a nightmare about that final encounter.

With a quick glance at the clock, Felicity got out of bed.  She gathered her clothes and running shoes, leaving a note for Ray beneath his phone, and crept into the bathroom to change.

The inn was quiet, it was far too early for any sane person to be awake, and as she stepped off of the front porch, she stretched her arms over her head and stifled a yawn.  The grass was white with frost and even though the sun was beginning to rise, she could still see the moon and stars in the sky overhead.  The harbor was dark, the ocean a sheet of black ink, and Felicity tucked headphones into her ears before setting off.

The chilly air felt good on her too-warm skin as she kept a brisk pace.  She ascended Murray Hill, choosing to ignore Queen Manor as she passed, and swung right along Rose Lane, heading inland.  The further she traveled from the coast, the cooler it became.  The canopy of trees overhead blocked whatever sunlight tried to seep through and her eyes struggled to adjust to the shadows.  When the cemetery gate came into view, she slowed. Stopping at the entrance, she found herself suddenly afraid.  Why, she couldn’t explain.  Felicity had been inside the cemetery walls more times that she wished to remember. It had never been a place that frightened her.

She entered through the gates before she could talk herself out of it and made her way along the familiar path.  She counted the headstones as she went.  She had visited him here before.  She used to come whenever she needed someone to talk to, when there was no one else around to listen.  Sitting down in the damp grass, Felicity ran her fingers over the smooth granite.

“Hey, Tommy.  I know it’s been awhile.  Life sort of got in the way.”

It wasn’t a real excuse.  It was generic and that wasn’t what he deserved.  She sighed.

“I couldn’t come back here.  Not after… not after Oliver.  It was too much.  Too many painful memories, too many reminders of the life that I thought we’d have.  I was scared, Tommy, and alone and –“

She shook her head.

“I hope you know that I have never stopped thinking about you, that I’ve never stopped missing you.  You were my friend, one of the best, and after everything that happened, I’m so sorry Tommy.”

“You do know that you weren’t at fault, right? What happened to Tommy was an accident.”

She was barely able to bite back a scream at the sudden intrusion.  She whirled around.

The young woman who appeared out of the darkness was just the same as Felicity remembered.  Her warm brown hair was a little shorter but other than that, Thea hadn’t changed.  She sat down at Felicity’s side and draped an arm around her shoulders.

“Your mom mentioned you were coming home,” Thea told her, “I thought you would’ve come to see me.”

Felicity shrugged, “I planned on it today. Yesterday was a little… rough. There’s a ghost wandering around at my parents’ inn, have you heard?”

The accusation held a bit of bite but Felicity didn’t try to retract it.  Thea had been her friend since the first grade.  She loved her like a sister, was closer to her than she was to her actual sister, but she couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that had crept into her heart.  All of the people that she loved, that she trusted, had been keeping a secret from her.

“I’m sorry, ‘Lis,” Thea sighed, “I wanted to tell you but Ollie –“

“Yeah, I know, he asked you not to.  Apparently he gave the same speech to everyone.”

“He’s my big brother.  I couldn’t go against him.  Not on this.  Can you forgive me?”

Felicity huffed out a laugh.

“You know that I can never stay mad at you, Speedy.”

Thea lay her head on Felicity’s shoulder and hugged her.  They sat together for a long moment in silence, the only sounds in the cemetery that of the birds waking up with the sun.  

“I brought Ray home with me.  If I – If I’d known he was here I –“

“You wouldn’t have brought him along?” Thea asked, “Look, Felicity, no one blames you for moving on with your life.  You deserve to be happy.  You deserve to live.”

“I thought he was gone.”

“So did I.  We all did.”

Thea stood and pulled Felicity up with her. She set a hand on Tommy’s headstone and closed her eyes for a moment.

“Love you.”

Felicity looped her arm with Thea’s and started back on the path that would lead them out of the cemetery.

“How’s Roy?”

Thea grinned at the mention of her husband.

“He’s good.  Working like crazy, but good.”

Roy and Thea had been high school sweethearts. When Thea had left the island to attend design school in the city, he’d gone with her.  He’d joined the police academy, Thea had started a successful clothing line and they’d eloped.  They’d come back to Star Island the year after Oliver went missing.

“And he’s okay just being a part of a small town sheriff’s department?”

Her friend shrugged, “He’s okay being home for dinner every night and not fearing for his life every time he walks out the door. The city is a scary place for a cop, ‘Lis.”

“I imagine it is.”

They talked about everything from Thea’s clothing line to Felicity’s newest invention for Palmer Technologies to Thea’s future baby plans.  By the time they made it back to Verdant, Felicity felt as if some of the weight that she’d been carrying had been lifted.

Ray was sitting in one of the rocking chairs as they approached and he waved to them.  Felicity noticed that he was on the phone and waved back.

“Well he’s cute, at least,” Thea whispered as they stepped inside.

Felicity rolled her eyes, “At least.”

Thea paused beside her and Felicity followed her gaze.  The photo of her and Oliver was hard to miss.

“Wow.  I haven’t been in here in a while but… wow.  When did she put that up?”

Felicity shrugged, “I’ve got no idea.”

“Has Ray seen it?”

“How could he miss it?  It’s not like she tried to be subtle or anything.”

Thea snorted, “Your mom?  Subtle?”

The screen door opened and banged closed behind them and they both winced.

“Sorry,” Ray shrugged, “Maybe you should mention that door to your mom, see if she can get Oliver to take a look at it.”

Thea nodded, “That’s not a bad idea.  That damn door’s been broken forever.”

Felicity smirked at Thea’s declaration.  The door really had been broken for forever.

“I wanted to ask you, if the Queen family founded this place, then why is the Oliver working at your parents’ inn?”

She knew that Ray’s question wasn’t meant to be a dig at Oliver or his family but Felicity felt herself bristling.

“Oh the Queen family may have once been the crowning jewel – pun intended – of Star Island, but they fell from grace a few decades ago.  There’s still money left,” Thea explained, “But Ollie would never lay claim to it.”

Ray eyed Thea curiously.

“Oh god, I really am terrible at this.  Ray Palmer, this is Thea Harper.  Thea, this is my boyfriend, Ray,” Felicity introduced them and tugged at the hem of her shirt nervously.

They shook hands.

“It’s nice to meet you, Thea.  Felicity has told me a lot about you.”

He wasn’t simply being polite this time. Her friendship with both Thea and Iris had been the one part of her past she’d been willing to share.  Not that she could’ve hidden either of them from Ray, there were photos of the three of them all over her apartment when they’d met.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too, Ray.”

“How do you know so much about the Queens?” Ray questioned, following Thea and Felicity into the sitting room.

Thea shrugged, “I used to be one.”

Ray’s expression was comical.  It was evident that he hadn’t been expecting Thea’s response which, Felicity knew, was exactly what Thea had wanted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t –“

“It’s okay.  It takes a lot to offend me or my family,” Thea assured him, “Trust me. We’ve been shoved in the mud a million times over.  Our last name doesn’t get us very far anymore.”

Ray clasped his hands where they hung between his knees.  He was leaning forward toward Thea.  He was curious.

“So Oliver is your…?”

“He’s my brother.”

Ray nodded and glanced over at Felicity.  She had been fighting to remain calm but she knew that her fidgeting had given her away.  Ray’s palm was warm against her knee when he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Felicity hasn’t really told me much about what it was like to grow up here,” he said to Thea, “And I’m the curious sort.  Think I could pick your brain?”

Thea shrugged, “It isn’t as interesting as you’re imaging it to be, believe me.  Nothing exciting ever happens here.”

Ray wasn’t dissuaded.

“But how does it all work?  There are what, two hundred people who live here year-round? Where did you go to school?  Is there one here or is it on the mainland? And what about when the weather is bad and a ferry ride isn’t possible?”

Thea’s raised brow was directed at Felicity.

“He’s… inquisitive, isn’t he?”

Felicity laughed, “One of the things we have in common.”

“And you haven’t told him any of this?”

She and Ray both shook their heads and Thea sighed. She stood up.

“Where are you going?” Felicity asked.

“Let’s take him down there,” Thea said, “It’ll be just as easy to show him as it will be to tell him.”

Felicity followed suit and got to her feet.  Ray joined them, asking, “Where exactly are we going?”

“To answer your question.”

[5hfanfiction]

2AM in L.A. - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Answers

Camila, 5:53PM

Camila drove the family station wagon out to the coast, windows down, music blaring, headed to her favorite spot in Miami. It was a secluded beach, only frequented by a few locals and some beginner surfers who needed calmer waves to figure out how to balance on the board. As she turned into the parking lot overlooking the beach, a silver Honda drove past, just leaving. The driver looked a little like Lauren’s younger sister, but Camila quickly brushed the thought from her mind. Even if it had been Taylor, that’s all it would be. Lauren was in LA, at this hour most likely pregaming another unforgettable night she’d never remember. Camila parked beside the trees and began to gather her things from the passenger seat when her phone rang. The caller ID told her it was Ashlee.

“Hi!” Camila answered.

“Hey girl! Wanted to check in to see how things are going?”

“Honestly so good,” Camila replied. “This was exactly where I needed to be.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. You sound a lot better.”

“I feel amazing.”

“Thank god,” Ashlee laughed. “Because I really had no other ideas how to get you out of your funk.”

“I just needed space,” Camila explained lightheartedly. “Sure I’m still lost with no direction, and I still think my album sucks, but I’ll be okay.”

“Wow, that’s a different perspective. Are you sure you’re the same person?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “I’m just done over thinking everything. I’m at my best when I just let life happen and go along for the ride.”

“Are you gonna be able to do that?” Ashlee asked, hesitant. “I mean it’s a great idea but are you really capable of just letting things happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“You ask a million questions about everything, and you’re always chasing something.”

“I know it’s unrealistic,” Camila rationalized. “But it’s a nice thing to aim for. Maybe the answer I’m looking for is that I’ll never find the answers. I can just do my best with what I have.”

“Girl are you high?” Ashlee laughed. “You are so chill about all this.”

“No,” Camila chuckled. “But someone on the beach definitely is. I can smell it from the parking lot.”

Camila grabbed her towel and sunglasses and got out of the car.

“Well I’m happy you’re happy,” Ashlee said. “So can I ask something?”

“Sure,” Camila replied.

“I saw some photos on twitter of Lauren getting to Miami this morning, and you got there just a couple days ago…anything I should know about that?”

“Lauren’s here?!” Camila replied, giving off a little more excitement in her voice than she wanted to.

“I’ll take that as a no, there’s nothing going on,” Ashlee chuckled.

“No, not at all.” Camila answered. “I honestly had no idea.”

“Well how do you feel now that you know?”

“Not that different,” Camila considered. “I’m probably not going to see her so I’m not super worried about what I’d do.”

“Do you want to see her?”

“I always want to see her.”

“You should text her and make plans.”

“She wouldn’t come,” Camila replied. “She isn’t a plans kind of person. I’d need to basically fall out of the sky and land at her feet for her to interact.”

“Since you’re in this super chill state of mind, can I ask something else?”

“Sure, but don’t kill my vibe,” Camila laughed.

“When we talked a few days ago – “

“You mean when I was sobbing on the couch about the girl who’d never love me?” she interrupted.

“Yep, that,” Ashlee laughed. “You said you wanted to leave it all in the past, and be okay with everything that happened.”

“Yeah…”

“I feel like that might not be 100% true.” “How so?” Camila asked, though already knowing full well what Ashlee meant.

“I don’t think you want to be okay with what happened, I think you want her to be who she was before everything happened.”

“Well yeah, in a perfect world I’d love us to both be 15 again. But that obviously can’t happen.”

“Do you want to be 15, or do you want to feel like you did when you were 15?”

“I’d be fine with either,” Camila chuckled. “What are you trying to get at here?”

“You too always seem to cross paths at the most inopportune times and I just want you to really understand your feelings in case that happens on this trip.”

“I love her,” Camila admitted, pausing at the top of the stairs down to the beach. “And I always will. If we’re meant to be together I know it will happen. And if it’s not meant to happen, there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“And you’d really be okay with that?”

“I don’t think I have a choice. I can’t make her feel something she just doesn’t.”

“Damn,” Ashlee replied. “If I had known being home would clear your head this fast I would have sent you packing ages ago.”

“Shut up,” Camila laughed as she started down the stairs. “But thanks for calling, seriously.” “Anytime. Enjoy the rest of the trip!”

Camila hung up the phone and turned to put it into her bag. In the split second she took her eyes off the uneven stairs, her flip flop caught the edge, turning her ankle and sending her crashing down the remaining stairs. She finally stopped tumbling when she hit the sand, face buried in the hot Miami sand. She laid motionless for a moment, wracking her brain to try to find any way to play it off like it was intentional. She heard someone jogging over, calling out as they approached. Camila rushed to brush off her scraped knees and bruised elbow, humiliated at her own clumsiness, as she glanced up at the figure.

“Hey, are you o – ”  the person stopped. Camila glanced up at the voice, and lost the little breath she had managed to recover. The jet black hair, bold eyebrows, small nose ring and striking green eyes, though glossed and faintly bloodshot, were unmistakable.

“Camila?”

Camila’s head went into a tailspin at the sound of Lauren’s voice. Should she respond? Say something nice? Ignore it and pretend nothing had happened? Run away? She panicked, and went with the first dad joke that popped into her head.

“Looks like I’ve fallen for you,” she said quietly, both girls frozen in the moment.

Lauren, 5:46 PM

Lauren watched Taylor’s outline fade in the distance as her thoughts raced. Was Taylor right? Had she become too caught up in the scene? She knew it had been a while since she’d been home, but hadn’t realized how much her family thought she’d changed. She twirled the lighter between her fingers, the joint slowly smoldering in the other hand. She drew in another breath, her thoughts slowing as the drug began to find its way into her bloodstream. The waves crashed in the distance, like they always had. The sand filled the gaps between her bare feet, like they always had. The gentle wind ran through her dark hair, like it always had. But nothing felt familiar. Nothing felt right.

She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through her contacts. She knew she wanted to talk to someone to clear her head, but quickly realized how short the list of people she actually care to talk to was. She finally settled on Dinah, and took another hit of the joint as her phone rang.

“Hey girl,” Dinah answered. “I thought you might be calling me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Oh, uh, no reason,” Dinah said, clearly flustered. “How was the flight?”

“Pretty chill,” she replied. “Taylor picked me up at the airport.” “Sounds like y’all are at the beach right now?”

“Yeah,” Lauren smiled. “Taylor just left, I’m just here hanging out.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah,” she answered slowly.

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah.”

“So not that this isn’t the greatest conversation I’ve ever had,” Dinah said with a laugh, “but why did you call? Shouldn’t you be with the fam?”

“I’m just thinking about life and shit.”

“Are you high?”

“Just a little but it’s fine.”

“You sound sad.”

“I don’t know, DJ,” Lauren sighed. “I don’t know why I came here. Maybe I’m just wasting my time.”

“You went because it’s home.”

“I just don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know what I was looking for. I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind”

“Maybe you don’t have to know,” Dinah answered.

“What do you mean?”

“Like maybe you won’t know what you’re trying to find, but when you find it you’ll just know.”

“I’m not good at blind faith.”

“You’re also not good at plans,” Dinah laughed. “So stop looking for a plan and start living. Think about when you were the happiest.”

“When I wasn’t looking, and was just living,” Lauren smiled. Dinah might not be the next Einstein, but somehow she always knew the right thing to say.

“You’ve been looking at the sky, hoping for something to fall down and just land in your lap.”

“But it’s not working,” Lauren finished the thought. “Life just keeps switching up the program.”

“So try not looking. God is laughing at you right now trying to figure this all out, because you’re never going to find the answers you’re looking for.” Dinah paused. “And maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s even better than having it all figured out.”

“You’re too fucking smart, you know that?” Lauren laughed hesitantly.

“I been telling you for years I’m the smart one in the group,” Dinah laughed. “Y’all just never give me a chance to show my genius.”

“I don’t know if genius is totally accurate,” Lauren joked.

“Bish you just said I was too fucking smart. I’m pretty sure that means I’m a genius.”

“Alright genius,” Lauren smiled, her heart already feeling lighter than it had half an hour prior. “So why’d you expect me to call?”

“I thought you might have seen her.”

“Seen who?” Lauren asked, fearing the answer she was about to hear.

“Camila.”

Lauren’s stomach instantly went into knots.

“How would I have seen her? In LAX?”

“You haven’t been on Twitter in a while, have you…” Dinah replied hesitantly.

“No.”

“I guess Camila is back in Miami for a while. TMZ posted some photos of her getting there a couple days ago so of course – “

“- people think it’s a thing between us,” Lauren sighed, exasperated at the memories of all the Camren rumors she and Camila had fought off for years.

“Yeah so when you called I thought you had seen her.”

Lauren looked up and down the beach. There were a few surfers in the water and one couple making out in one of the secluded coves, but other than that she was alone.

“Nope. Just me, myself and my weed.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Dinah replied.

“Well there’s a couple guys out here surfing,” Lauren continued. “Maybe I’ll black out and have a threesome with them.”

“Is it bad that I can’t tell if you’re joking?” Dinah replied.

“Chill out, I’m obviously joking,” Lauren laughed.

“Well anyways,” Dinah continued, relieved at Lauren’s response. “If you see her, will you please just be nice?”

“Bish I’m always nice,” Lauren retorted, feigning offense. “And I’m not going to see her. I’m heading home as soon as I’m done with this joint.”

Dinah began to answer, but before Lauren could pay attention to her response, she heard a clattering behind her. She turned around to see someone falling down the rickety stairs to the beach.

“Sorry Dinah, gotta go,” Lauren interrupted. “Someone just ate shit on the stairs.”

Lauren hung up the phone and jogged over to the foot of the stairs, where the clumsy visitor was starting to brush off their knees. As she got closer, she began to call out.

“Hey, are you o – “ Lauren couldn’t finish her question as the person looked up from the ground. The dark brown hair, slender build, perfectly chiseled face and chocolate brown eyes were unmistakable.

“Camila?”

“Looks like I’ve fallen for you,” Camila said quietly, both girls frozen in the moment.

[dinoalexander]

The Semi-Quotable 2017 Part 4

I never had his problem with Livejournal. I’ve had several problems but never this... Part 4.

——

"Note to terrorists: During WWII, London endured this thing called 'The Blitz'. Google it. They will endure your petty stupidity. Note to Trump: During WWII, London endured this thing called 'The Blitz'. Google it. They will endure your petty stupidity. Keep calm and carry on." -Kevin

"When you scroll to find your name, don't see your name for a really long time, and wonder if you could have squeezed just a couple more fucks in there. Missed fucking opportunities!" -Laura

Jay: "Who doesn't love a Brazilian steak?"

Joe: "Who doesn't love a Brazilian ass!"

C: "Who doesn't love a Brazilian?"

"As soon as American Idol came to America, we were all fucked." -Jenna

"This isn't football, it's boy bands!" -Q

"To quote the great philosopher Cornell Haynes Jr., it's getting hot in herre." -C

"I'll always love UNC but Gonzaga destroyed Tokyo." -Austin

"Make chicken salad out of that chicken shit!" -Q

"If one more person adds me to LulaNotLemon group without asking me, I swear I am going to find every pair of leggings on this island and burn them in a huge bonfire at Bayview Park. #YouveBeenWarned" -Shannon

"Stranger at Walmart just coughed in my face. So I have two, maybe three days to live." -Q

"I got some antibiotics for the bug I've had for over a week. I think it's adorable that CVS colored the antibiotics green for St. Patrick's Day and they taste like mint. I think those lazy bastards just gave me a container of Tic Tacs." Klauss

"I used to date somebody with lazy eye, but she was seeing someone on the side." -Rammson

"Is that a thing? Because I just made it a thing." -Jordan

“What is the current bar for "most awkward human on the planet" in the Guinness Book of World Records? Cause I wouldn't mind getting something back for all my suffering.” -Christina

“You’re like a WetJet with a lab degree!” -Q, on cleaning up the ER doc’s messes

“Supporting my husband’s love for this awful team.” -Kyle

“THANKS FOR NOTHING, CRABTREE!” -Robin

"Had homey on some Globetrotter shit." -Jabari

"NBC: Where Every Night at 8 PM is Fuckin' Christmas." -Klauss

“Diane, it’s ‪Tuesday, August 1st‬ and I’ve stumbled upon quite a few mysteries here at Fashion Peaks. Tully the horse has been sent to the glue factory, The Ascension has a very peculiar taste in music, and my partner, Deputy Dango, has been abducted - possibly by extraterrestrials. That leaves me with two questions: One, who kidnapped Fandango? Two, why didn’t I just call you instead of record this?” – Tyler Breeze

“Wait, so that giraffe still hasn't given birth? Have we explored the possibility that the zookeeper just overfed her a few months ago and lied instead of admitting the mistake?” - Nedeff

“Just finished watching ‪Die Hard‬ for the first time (we can discuss later). ‪Die Hard‬ is 100% not a Christmas Movie. Just because it ends with Christmas Music doesn’t make it a Christmas Movie.” – Dan O’Toole with the most wrong hot take of 2017

“We're still gonna get near-daily articles trying to Understand The Le Pen Voter though right” @pattymo

“Of course any portrayal of a real-life figure is about so much more than physical resemblance, but come on guys: how did they NOT cast Christopher Plummer as J. Paul Getty in the first place?” – Richard Roeper

“Danny Ainge the only American who can outsmart a Russian.” – David Dennis Jr.

“The Yankees haven’t been in the playoffs in a while so I forgot how punchable Brett Gardner’s face is” – Brad Rutter

“HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” – Dougie Jones

“There’s no fucking way he sold 200 Streamdaddy’s” – Prez on IYH

“By far the most bizarre trivia fact about Dean Stockwell to me is that he’s a trained martial artist.” – Allison Pregler

“Don’t Worry, We’ll Let You Know When The Last Surviving World War II Veteran Dies” - ClickHole

“And I thought Ashley Judd’s sleaziest boss was Benjamin Horne.” – Ken Jennings

“Because hey, if you lose $35 Million one time, try try again!” – Scott Keith on Vince McMahon relaunching the XFL

“I don't recommend going to Wal-Mart 2 days before Christmas. And by "2 days before Christmas", I mean ever.” – BFG

“Pepsi: That was the biggest PR blunder of the week, year maybe.

United: Hold My Beer

Sean Spicer: LEEEEEEEEEERROOOOOOOY JEEEENNNNNNKINS!” - @Lance_Bradley

“IF THE TITANIC HAPPENED TODAY: “Sir, we’re heading straight for that iceberg. / That’s a fake iceberg. / Sir, it’s a mountain of ice and it’s right in front of us. / Full speed ahead! / Sir, we just hit the iceberg and now we’re sinking...Sir?...Women & children first, Sir...” – Jeff Daniels

“Hot on the heels of his triumphant rebranding of MySpace, Justin Timberlake brings sexy back to the NFL.” – Kevin M.

“Derek Jeter is so freaking hot. I hate the Yankees!” – Greg’s friend Kat’s mother

"Marty Jannetty couldn't buy a date..." thankfully 24 years later Marty will make sure his dates don't share his DNA...” - Dane

“Next year's State of the Union should have an In Memoriam montage with everyone who's been fired.” - Nedeff

“What can bring an end to an angry dance montage? FUCKING ‘NAM!” – The Cinema Snob

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE BUNNY! ………… Is it about the Bunny? ………. No, it’s not about the bunny.” – Tommy “Hawk” Hill

“WARREN WHAT DID YOU DO!?!?” -Jimmy Kimmel after the Oscar Best Picture fuckup

“GOODBYE AOL INSTANT MESSENGER GO FUCK YOURSELF” – The Iron Sheik

“A producer pitches a show to an NBC executive.

"Wow me."

"Okay- it's The OJ Simpson Trial... but wacky!"

"Go on..."

"It's a procedural comedy where we don't know whether he did it until the end of the season!"

"But... this is a murder, right? Someone dies?"

"Oh, yes- good 'n' dead."

"I see... and who were you thinking would play the role of the is-he-isn't-he murderer?"

"The Trinity Killer from Dexter, John Lithgow."

"Dick Solomon?! GREENLIGHT THAT ISH" - Fard

“EVERYTHING TRUMP TOUCHES DIES!” – Rick Wilson

“Can’t believe Weinstein didn’t go with the old “locker room talk” defense.” – Matthew Yglesias

“So here's what we're gonna do. Without my knowledge, my husband came to you for a loan of $20,000. You were nice enough to give it to him. But he should never have been gambling like that. I'm gonna pay you back. Now, at my bank, where we make less than one percent interest on what little money we have, people would be turning cartwheels just to get 25 percent interest on any loan, and that is what I'm generously gonna give to you right now, $25,000. That is my first, last, and only offer to you. What kind of world are we living in where people can behave like this? Treat other people this way without any compassion or feeling for their suffering? We are living in a dark, dark age, and you are part of the problem. Now, I suggest you take a good, long look at yourselves because I never want to see either of you again.” – Janey-E Jones

“If professional wrestling isn't real why have I spent the past hour watching Bobby "The Brain" Heenan videos quietly alone in my hotel room?” – Tom Arnold

Gordon Cole: “We’re not anywhere near Mount Rushmore.”

Albert Rosenfield: “I brought a picture for you.”

Gordon Cole: (Looks at picture) “There they are Albert, faces of stone.”

“This is pretty exciting to be apart of this nomination for @VeepHBO especially since my mom watched the entire last season of Madame Secretary and was confused why I was never on it.” – Paul Scheer

“Nice to know that while other industries are turning to tablets and screens, game show hosts are still plugging away with those little cards.” – SC Duncan

“We will remember the unappreciative, ungreatful, evil, awful, Anthem owl men and the man who’s fond of slapping nuts on how they treated us on our exodus from Impact Wrestling YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” – Matt Hardy shooting on Double J’s business practices

“Steve Bannon gets tonight’s Last Word – which for him, is the complete silence of utter humiliation” – Lawrence O’Donnell

“SHOVEL YOUR WAY OUT OF THE SHIT!” – Dr. Lawrence Jacoby

“Sorry I took your suit. I mean, you had it coming. Actually, it turns out it was the perfect sort of tough love moment that you needed, to urge you on, right? Don't you think? Let's just say it was. Look, you screwed the pooch hard. Big time. But then you did the right thing: you took the dog to the clinic, you raised the hybrid puppies... alright, not my best analogy. I just wanted to mention that I think with a little more mentoring, you could be a real asset to the team. There's about 50 reporters behind that door, real ones, not bloggers, so when you're ready...” – Tony Stark

“In the Alabama Senate Race, the predicted result among many pundits was a narrow margin of victory. Roy Moore himself, however, was hoping for a shocker in the teens.” – Nedeff

“Sports Illustrated called and said I was probably going to be Sportsman of the Year, but it was going to take a long photo shoot and interview. I’m not proud of my recent perm and have a interpretive dance class at the interview time so I turned it down! No Thanks SI!!” – Noah Syndergaard

“Wow, if I had invested $1,000 in Bitcoin last week, today I would have... still no idea how Bitcoin works.” - @StephenAtHome

“In a confusing twist, Han Solo's name will be revealed to be Luther Campbell.” – Jeff Gerstmann

“Lordy, I hope there are tapes!” – James Comey

“This is the water, and this is the well. Drink full, and descend. The horse is the white of the eyes, and dark within.” – The Woodsman in Episode 8 of Twin Peaks: The Return 

“We need some loving profiles of a small town in northern Alabama that thinks obstruction of justice is fine because Drumpf respects cops.” – Matthew Yglesias

“Why are Greg Gumbel and Seth Davis sitting at a desk for ants?” – Andrew Bucholtz

How many more of these things will Tumblr tolerate? Stay tuned...