#you were in quarantine i was in the fucking trenches
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It's been four years and they're not together anymore thank god so I can finally talk about that time, summer of 2020, one of my friends was dating our other friend's ex, he lived an hour away and neither of them had a car so I was making twice weekly drives out there for all of us to hang out together, I spent two weeks on zero rest because I was babysitting my grandma's dog and she + the faulty fire alarm system in the neighbor's house wouldn't let me sleep, I was getting constantly dragged into this couple's arguments while the rest of our friend group is complaining about what an asshole Friend 1 has become since he started talking to this girl, I'm playing therapist and number one confidante for both him and the girlfriend at this point,
one day I go over to her house (not a great situation I knew this) and there was a bowl of macaroni on the stove that fully had maggots in it (I cleaned this up) (in way over my head), worst day of my life comes up where I'm with the couple and I take them to get food, and then I can't go into my own house to hang out to eat because my stepmom is cleaning and doesn't want me to, so we go to a park and sit in a gazebo while it's raining,
they get into the worst argument I've ever witnessed them get into (in which the guy brings up the crush he had on me in high school, for some fucking reason), I walk away, I come back and he's telling me he wants me to go to Walmart, I piece together that he wants to go FIGHT my EX-COWORKER because I invited the guy to a dnd game and he said something maybe flirty to the girl (didn't know she was dating anyone) (backed off after she said something / she told me she hadn't been made uncomfortable), I say I'm not doing that, and no you are not walking home, I'm driving them to the gas station for reasons I don't remember when he's in the backseat talking about how girls don't know when guys want to have sex with them and calls me "dense" to my face as if thats a normal thing to say to a person who's done a hell of a lot for you in the past six months,
This all culminates in an argument over a discord call in which I finally call him on some of his shit and end things, go into another call with some of our other mutual friends, say "Man I feel like I just dumped someone in a toxic relationship or something" and proceed to get told by my most aware friend, who'd been waiting for this moment for those six months, "you kinda did"
#under a readmore so only the people who want the hot gos have to see it fbbdSNZ#to be clear it was summer of 2020 these were like the only people i was spending time with in person#it was not smart of me#you were in quarantine i was in the fucking trenches#this is ALSO when i was working the 4am shifts at the bakery#this isnt even all of it. that was such a long summer fhDHS
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Seriously what the fuck is wrong with anti vaxxers yall take the flu shot every year like it aint shit and it works just like the covid vaccine and every other vaccine ever invented
#pimprants#news flash!! you can get the flu after taking the flu shot🤣🤣🤣#and vaccines are PREVENTIVE not immunity you absolute fucking bone head#and theres no chip in any of them bc idk how to tell you this but the government does not give a fuck about you#you were assigned a number at birth youre a fucking statistic to them💀#and if there was a chip in it youd know#how the fuck would a chip even fit into that tiny ass needle#if the government wanted you you would know too bc youd probably be seeing niggas in trench coats following you#if you dont want the vaccine... maybe just stay the fuck inside?🤣🤣🤣#i mean shit if yall woulda done it the first 2-4 weeks of quarantine we wouldn't be here rn#yall the same niggas that wanna be outside tho right? hm.
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Writing prompt: It's hair clipping day! Cas cuts Deans hair, but not as short as it used to be. Longer hair makes him softer <3
Dean grunts from the living room, and Cas can feel his frustration seeping into the very marrow of his bones.
"Dean?" he calls from the kitchen, drying the last dish with his favorite orange-and-white-striped terry cloth towel. He tucks it lovingly around the handle of the oven door before going to check on his disgruntled husband.
Dean is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, mouth contorted as he funnels the air upwards to blow his bangs out of his face.
"Can't fucking see a damn thing," he gestures to the TV in front of him. Cas glances at the screen.
"Don't you know all of the Scooby Doo episodes by heart at this point?" His voice is teasing.
Dean is not in the mood.
"This is the new one," he grumbles. "Not even that fucking good. Also, so not the issue." He shoves the errant follicles to the side of his forehead with one hand.
"I get we're all quarantined, but sonofabitch. My hair hasn't gotten the memo, clearly."
Cas looks at him thoughtfully. "I can do it," he offers.
Dean blinks at him. "What, you were the hairdresser of your garrison?"
Cas rolls his eyes. "I prefer stylist, but it's very simple to cut hair, Dean. I cut my own all the time." He gestures to the - yes, slightly uneven but still perfectly acceptable - dark brown tufts framing his creased forehead.
Dean regards him momentarily, then nods in hesitant agreement. "Okay." Pausing for a beat, he gives Cas a suggestive wink. "Hell, if you can make me look as sexy as you, I'm in."
The sigh emanating from Cas' chest is more exasperated than he intended. He makes up for it by giving Dean a small pinch on the derriere on the way to the kitchen.
Quarantine's made them all grumpy, and it's not Dean's fault they've been stuck inside with no light at the end of the tunnel.
Nope, that would be the selfish men in positions of authority who take what they want.
Cas stifles his anger, focusing on the small thing he can do right now to make it better instead.
He quickly drops a few trash bags on the tiled kitchen floor, placing a chair in the middle of them. He tugs the shears from the trench coat pockets that house multitudes of items like a magical Mary Poppins suitcase.
"Have a seat," he gestures to Dean.
Dean chuckles. "Oh are we roleplaying hair salon now? I sure hope I get a neck massage out of it."
Cas grabs a fistful of hair as Dean lowers himself on the seat, giving it a sharp tug. "Not that kind of salon, boy," he growls playfully in Dean's ear.
It's a joke, but Cas doesn't hate the prickle of gooseflesh he can see scattering across Dean's neck.
He starts to clip, slowly.
Dean leans into the movements of Cas' fingers through the strands. "You can cut it as short as you want," he mumbles, the lids of his eyes drooping closed as Cas gently massages behind his ears while he snips.
Cas pauses.
"Do you like it that short?"
Dean's eyelashes flutter. He shrugs. "Dunno," he mutters sleepily. "S'always been that way."
Cas thinks about Dean's childhood. John Winchester. Military haircuts, spartan. Weaponized.
He leaves a little length.
Dean's smile when he looks in the mirror afterwards is softer than it's been in months. He tugs at Cas' collar, pulling his face flush to his cheekbone.
"You can tell me if you don't like it," Cas says into the small prickles of stubble dotting Dean's skin, blinking away the errant snippets of hair still falling from his head.
"Not that kind of salon, sweetheart," Dean whispers, his lips softly covering Cas' as he guides him towards the shower, hands making quick work of the buttons of his shirt as he growls:
"Now let's wash off this mess, stylist."
#you-cant-spell-subtext-without-asks#glacierblueeyes#writing prompt#scribbles#destiel ficlet#deancas ficlet#fan fic rec#destiel#deancas#spn#supernatural#spn fan fic
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Ms. Spooky, may you spare some HC for the terrible trio (YES, I have named stu, Billy, and us that. What about it???) for us? 🙇🙇🙇
Abso fucking lutely!! I'm just going with this story since a total hc of everyone for all 3 installments feels too broad.
Headcanon's for the Trio for Terrible Trilogy Specifically:
GPS just came out for cars in 01 when this series took place and your Honda definitely didn't have it so you all rely on MapQuest printed out or a good old fashioned map.
Billy is an excellent map reader. If you get lost, give him the map and he will find whatever beaten down road he can to get you all on the right track.
Stu is a landmark guy. Landmarks and directions like 'straight, left, right' sort of thing. Maps are too all over the place for him while Billy's brain cannot remember directions without a visual aid to show him wtf you're talking about. If you lose the map then rely on Stu. "Nope, wrong way." "How do you get that?" "Because it was left, right, left, then that giant rock over there near the road so you made a wrong turn because we should have passed that rock by now."
Stu is a bottomless pit. He has a oral fixation where he has to chew on something and is prone to bored binge eating if you let him. Get that boy snacks and cinnamon gum or he's freaking grumpy enough to rival Billy the whole trip.
Stu was brought up from money and was expected to pursue business like his Dad but always was a "I don't have a dream job who the fuck wants to work?" sort of guy (Same). That's why he's okay with swindling, job hoping or pursuing such a risky job as acting bc he could care less about a career even if he wasn't on the run. Billy on the otherhand was more than willing to have a career as a lawyer to make his Dad proud until this happened.
Your anxious about all of this. Even without the murder, you've been alone isolating for roughly 3 years now just to be thrown into a bustling Hollywood set. (Seriously I relate bc my social skills sucked pre pandemic and now after quarantine; talking to ppl in public feels like pulling teeth oml)
You updated your wardrobe as you got older because you liked how you looked at the party at Windsor. You just didn't have much opportunity to wear leather pants or a lace camisole off your property until now.
Randy went through severe depression when he woke up from his coma and had to have assistance walking the first few months. You and his family comforted him and tried to be there for him but he was still majorly depressed at how his life turned out. He started working out to make it easier along with physical therapy and kept it up as a lifestyle change from then on.
Randy and you went on casual dates here and there after Randy recovered. He rejected it at first thinking you were only doing it out of pity. Both of you soon tried to consider going steady but realized you were better off as friends. It brought you both closer though in a platonic way.
You still wear Sidney's locket when you can.
Dewey and Gale dated and it was hard on Dewey with how much you both dislike one another. He tried to purposely push you two together but gave up when Gale made a remark and it turned into a huge argument there after. Dewey partially blames Gale's hostility towards you, someone he views as a little sister, as part of the reasoning of their break up.
You all argue over the radio. Billy is strictly rock, grunge and heavy metal music (He does like some country and pop but if you found out he'd have to kill you) Stu likes punk rock, nu metal and pop punk but he can just as well jam to rnb, hip hop or pop. He's not nearly as much of a music snob as Billy tries to be.
Billy definitely likes the dark hair on Stu but won't admit it and Stu likes the leather trench coat Billy wore but...Yeah. They're stubborn assholes.
You have ONE pair of sunglasses in your console you all fight over. You remind them the driver gets first dibs and everyone else has to suck it up. (Stu bought some cartoonish dollar tree sunglasses Billy refuses to wear)
Stu has seen all the Stabs, you refuse for obvious reasons and Billy only saw the first one and turned it off when he saw how they portrayed his defeat at the climax. He bitches about the awful wig they gave his actor
Billy is secretly super stoked to see where all his favorite Horror movies took place and how they were made no matter how much he acts like he's not interested. Him and Randy are more alike than they both want to admit as far as interest go.
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What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? Or better yet your favorite scenes? What was it about the words you put out that endear it to you?
Hi Anon - and wow, it's been a minute since I've had an Anon.
It probably sounds really stupid being so possessive and protective over frivolous fics like smutfics but sooo many of my fics were born out of late night conversations with @specseven, most of which during the quarantine or an extended medical leave I took from work. They're personal because they're comforting and they were born out of a friendship that has become one of my very best. It was so nice to be so inspired and to just whip out a story as quick as I used to be able to - I wonder if I'll ever get back there.
Some of my more recent stuff was written under more stressful circumstances like timelines I stupidly enforced on myself or commitments I made that I eventually regretted because I didn't like how the story turned out. I try to make my smutfics as much about the emotion and romance and genuine love that Hera and Kanan have for one another but that was never explored in the show. That's so much more important to me than the actual sex. My favorite scenes are the ones that include banter and comfort and familiarity, like Hera stealing fruit from Kanan's dish and Kanan trying to meditate while being distracted by all of the little things he notices about Hera. Sleepy sex? Come on, there is something so vulnerable and intimate in not just sleeping together, but literally having sex while both partners are in that weird not-quite-asleep-but-not-quite-awake time.
I think my favorite fic I've written is Anything At All Or Nothing At All, because it really put Hera at odds with herself - and took her well out of her comfort zone in an effort to share something special and vulnerable with Kanan. That’s what the best love stories are, right? That give and take?? Come on, we love to see it.
Honorable mentions for favorites go to How Could I Forget? (because so much of it was written with Spira scenes from @specseven's work in mind) and Gray Hours, part of my Kinktober series.
My favorite line that I've ever written which I'm pretty sure was a full on fucking moment of clarity for me, or a moment of panic trying to decide if I'd read it anywhere else and just had serious imposter syndrome is the last line in my Kinktober series: "Hera doesn’t belong to him, but she belongs alongside him. Hera belongs to the stars, and Kanan will thank them every single day that he’s allowed to be in her sky."
... Because boy ain't that it. They are such an incredible, balanced partnership in literally every sense of the word. It’s never just been about the sex, and in my opinion, it can never just be about sex with Hera and Kanan, and it’s so easy to make it about that because they’re twenty-somethings in the trenches of war. It’s about having someone who completes you in the good, the bad and the ugly. And there’s a lot of good, bad and ugly in their relationship.
I'm not sure if or when I'll come back to writing these two. I'd like to? But right now my brain is beyond borked trying to live up to expectations that no one has set but myself, and Ris plagiarizing my shit really took a lot of wind out of my sails and threw me off. I have 5-6 unfinished stories in my drive, but the longer I sit on them, the more I find that other people are writing them, so who knows where they'll end up.
Anyway, this got away from me. But thanks for the ask. It was nice to think on some of my favorites.
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“I Don’t Think You’re Ready”
First of all, I hope everyone is staying safe and able to quarantine themselves at this time. I know so much is happening around us, and it can feel overwhelming and frightening. Thus, I hope that this takes your mind off the craziness of the world, even just for a second. I know it definitely helped me!
This was inspired by so many things - my love for angst, Jake Gyllenhaal’s latest photo shoot, and this tweet by Nichole of Thirst Aid Kit Pod. However, after watching this scene from Nocturnal Animals, I finally figured this piece out. Enjoy!
“I don’t want to hide anymore,” he whispered.
Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the harsh morning light. It was too early to have this argument. The dreaded never-ending argument that he recently kept bringing up. You didn’t want to have this fight either – you didn’t have the energy.
“Babe,” you groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You surprised him last night by showing up in LA to support his latest project. Dressed in a trench coat with nothing underneath, you were the first thing he saw when he walked in the house. He teared up at the sight of you, a reminder of how long you’d spent apart, and how much he’d missed you. Lately, the video calls and texts just weren’t enough. Seconds later, you dropped the coat and revealed his other surprise, which he was more than eager to touch. He ravished you, kissing every inch of skin, until purple bruising showed on your dark skin.
You hoped that your presence would dead his request to go public. But nothing deterred him, so you were now waking up to the same argument that you kept repeating on the phone. Only this time, there were no barriers to hide how you felt. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him or were embarrassed by him – you just had a better understanding of the aftermath of this announcement. The things they would say about him, the things they would say about you. Not to mention the impact it would have on his career. A committed Jake Gyllenhaal ruined the fantasy of every women planning their future with him. Then there was the reaction to you - the opposite of every woman he’d ever dated or admitted to crushing on. Publicly, you didn’t fit into his world, no matter how progressive society appeared to be, you knew the truth – you lived it. The slew of hate comments that would await every social platform you visited. Now, that Jake was on Instagram, it was bound to get worse.
It was easier keeping things the way they were, with only a few friends, family, and close associates knowing about your relationship. Besides, he always kept his relationships private, which is why his request sounded so odd.
It took a bit of adjusting, but you both found a way to make this relationship work. Yet, you noticed the little things that started chipping at him – his frustration when you let go of his hand in public settings - but it wasn’t enough to warrant concern. You still touched him in every way; you just learned to curtail any pda in case of prying eyes or cameras. Yet, he frowned every time you did it, and pushed for more affection.
“I don’t want to hide you anymore.” Jake trailed kisses down your neck, tracing the curve of your waist. He knew your body well, remembered it well, and treated it well. Memories of last night replayed in your mind as he continued to tease. The phone sex was good, but nothing beat the real thing. It’d been too long since you had it. You leaned into his touch, letting him guide the pace. Arms draped around his neck, you’d completely forgotten the argument. Although, in this position, you’d damn near forget your name. He shifted his weight, allowing your legs to instinctively wrap around his torso. The hunger in his eyes matched yours as you stared each other down. You were ready to rekindle what you both were missing these last couple of months. Closing your eyes, you tilted your face, ready for his kiss, but nothing happened. You opened your eyes in a haze of confusion. “Walk the carpet with me,” he insisted. “You have the dress, you already know how these things work, and I’ll only do four interviews max.” Jake kissed your nose, before kissing your lips. His eyes pleaded with you, waiting for your response. It was much harder to say no, when you were doing it in person, and couldn’t avoid his blue eyes. “I’ll be with you the entire time, and we don’t even have to stay for the whole movie.”
There was this part of you that wanted to say yes, and give in, just to see the joy on his face. Yet, it wasn’t that simple. This was about you as much as it was about him, and you needed to protect him, protect your relationship, and most importantly, protect yourself. Of course, you wanted to jump up and down, and scream from the mountain tops that you were dating. You were gorgeously happy, and madly in love with a man whose last name you’d gladly take in a heartbeat. Some days, you wondered why you put yourself through the secrecy and hiding, but then you remembered that this wasn’t a fairy tale, this was life. There were consequences to your perfect ending.
“It’s a small theatre. Private screening. Less people.” Jake argued, leaning in to kiss you again. A sigh escaped your lips, you knew where this was headed. You discussed this before, argued over it, laughed about it, then argued over it again.
“I don’t think we are ready.”
“Three years, and we aren’t ready? Bullshit.”
You freed your legs from his torso, realizing that you weren’t going to get any this morning, and that this argument was far from over. “Have you spoken to Hanna,” you hoped that mentioning his publicist would remind him that he couldn’t just spring you into his world.
“She thinks it’s time. Plus, it will generate buzz about the film.” He brought your hands to his lips, kissing the palms, before intertwining them with his hands. “The whole team thinks it’s time. I can’t be a bachelor forever.”
“George Clooney did it,” you quipped.
He smiled before turning serious again. “And, he is also married with two kids. C’mon, walk the carpet with me.”
You closed your eyes, letting out a heavy breath. It was too early to have this conversation, and you didn’t have the proper words to explain your hesitation. You sat up, and turned towards him with a smile, “What do you want for breakfast?”
Jake stared at you in complete disbelief, but you ignored it. Rising out of bed, you put on his shirt and started fluffing the pillows.
“What,” he asked, as he sat up.
You continued making the bed, ignoring his quizzical stare, “Pancakes sound nice.”
“I don’t have to answer any questions. I can be with you the whole time. Five minutes tops.”
“I don’t think we are ready.”
You fussed around, tidying up for no reason, awaiting his response, but he was silent. You looked over and found him staring at the light shining through from the windows.
“Babe – “
“We aren’t ready, or you aren’t ready,” he asked.
“Jake – “
“I love you. I want to spend my life with you, and I have no problem admitting that to the world.”
“I love you too – “
He didn’t wait for you to finish, before cutting in again. “You love me, but not enough to tell anyone about it.”
“That’s not true. I – “
“Are you happy…with me, with us,” he asked.
“Of course, I’m happy – “
“Paparazzi? Press? Cameras? The scrutiny? The comments? –“
“Jake, - “
“The backlash? The outrage? The stares? What is it?”
“Jake – “
“Okay, if not now, then when? Three years is a fucking long time to be hiding.”
“I don’t think you’re ready,” you blurted.
He went silent. The surprise coloring his face and taking away his breath.
“Fuck,” you sighed. This wasn’t the way you wanted to have this conversation.
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Thank you so much for reading! Should I continue? I have a taglist somewhere (updating it), so let me know if you are interested. Thanks!
#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal x reader#jake gyllenhaal x you#jake gyllenhaal x black!reader#jake gyllenhaal x woc#black!reader#blackwomanwriter#black reader#woc reader#wocblogger#woc writers#black writers#Thirst aid kit#thirst aid kit podcast#the thirst is real
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Uhh can I ask for BBC Sherlock fic recs? (Preferably friendship and/or familial fics, but romance is okay too)
Ooohh boy are you in for a list. I know you asked this like, at the start of quarantine or at sometime where I decided that I was no longer interested in communicating with the wider world, but hopefully this will still be of interest to you?
Throughout 2018 I did very little writing because I was busy consuming everything offered by the Sherlock fandom produced over 7-8 years. I definitely read well into the millions of words. A lot of them were from specific collections on both ff.net and AO3. I recommend looking in “collections” on ff.net in particular (as I still can’t really figure out how collections work on AO3 and how to find them easily... it’s really easy to find them on ff.net).
To my knowledge, these are all complete.
If there is any romance tagged here, it’s because it’s really, really fucking good as romance is my least favorite genre. I cannot remember all of them, but there’s a lot of angst, definitely humour, and definitely some great canonical bits. Also whumpy ones that are either really really good or a bit ridiculous but there you go.
It’s long, so under a cut. If the cut doesn’t work, I have tagged it as well.
From ff.net (alphabetical order) - NOTE: I did NOT include anything from the authors I recommended because the list was already too freaking long! But be sure to check out the authors, you can sort by “category” on ff.net on their author page and then go down to “Sherlock” to find their works:
Anything by A Wandering Minstrel (sooooo many genres)
Most anything by chappysmom (tons of genres, some are excellent, some I could take or leave, overall good stuff)
Most anything by Dayja (she writes in a ton of genres, so some I *adore* while others aren’t my cup of tea, but overall good stuff)
Anything by Gwen's Blue Box if you want angst up the wazoo.
Anything by ivywatcher for fantastic character studies.
Most anything by Jennistar1 (another multi-genre writer, both friendship and slashfic)
Anything by Radon65 - a mix of stuff. Canon IIRC.
Anything by Richefic for good, canon-friendly gap-fillers
Anything by StillWaters1 for good, canon-friendly gap-fillers
A Brief Account Of Life With Zombies by Silver Pard Sherlock thinks it's all a bit of a nuisance, John is having the time of his life, and Mycroft is Not Impressed. With anything, but mostly his minions' inability to provide a good cup of tea. Rated: T - English - Humor - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,384 - Complete
A House is not a Home by selenityshiroi This is a prompt fill from the LJ Fic Meme. John and Sherlock got a flat share because they needed to split the rent. But when John comes into money, people wonder 'why hasn't he found a place of his own' The actual prompt is inside the story Rated: T - English - Friendship - Chapters: 1 - Words: 8,190 - John W., Sherlock H. - Complete
Annie's Song by Berouge She has a second engagement with a man and his violin, in the park, at night. Sherlock's not going for it! ONESHOT! Rated: K - English - Romance - Chapters: 1 - Words: 8,869 - Sherlock H., Molly Hooper - Complete
Basic Training by chai4anne Summary: A death at a boys' school leads to conflict and revelations among Lestrade's team, Sherlock, and John. Set between "The Hounds of Baskerville" and "The Reichenbach Fall." No slash. Rated: T - English - Mystery/Friendship - Chapters: 1 - Words: 10,851 - Sherlock H., John W., DI Lestrade, Sgt. S. Donavan - Complete
Breaking Point by Haelia When Sherlock and Donovan are abducted and Sherlock is grievously wounded, it is up to Donovan to get them both out. "First things first, Freak. You do not give me orders. You are going to do everything I tell you to," Sally said sharply, "because we are getting out of here." Can they both escape with their lives from the most dangerous gang in London? Rated: T - English - Mystery/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 3 - Words: 14,401 - Sgt. S. Donavan, Sherlock H. - Complete
Firestorm by Dustbunny13 Sherlock returns, but his friendship with John is damaged. Nevertheless, they embark on their final hunt to finish off Moriarty's net, but it ends in a catastrophe: Sherlock is shot and lapses into a coma. As John keeps vigil, he reads Sherlock's diary written during the hiatus. Slowly, he begins to understand and finds himself wishing for another miracle. Completed. Rated: T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Adventure - Chapters: 53 - Words: 133,754 - Complete NOTE: Probably my favorite novel-length multi-chapter you find only on ff.net for this fandom.
How To Accidentally Summon a Demon by patster223 Sherlock is possessed by a demon. A damned, wicked soul that uses the kitchen table for blood rituals and experiments. John doesn't even notice the difference. Rated: K+ - English - Supernatural/Humor - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,411 - Sherlock H., John W. - Complete
Kidnapped! A Comedy by scuttlesworth Poor kidnappers. Kidnapping John Watson is like pulling on a thread tied to all sorts of crazy. It's enough to make a bloke get a job and go straight. Rated: T - English - Humor/Friendship - Chapters: 2 - Words: 10,758 - John W. - Complete
Mobile Phones, Rubble and Shock by prettybirdy979 In the aftermath of the explosion, Lestrade must work to keep Sherlock Holmes alive and make sense of his communications... with only a mobile phone and Sherlock buried under the rubble of the pool. Rated: T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,679 - Sherlock H., DI Lestrade - Complete
Mouth of Babes by Morgan Stuart Several weeks after the explosion at the pool following "The Great Game" episode, Lestrade visits the recuperating Sherlock and John at 221B Baker Street. He brings case files and food... and a visitor in tow. Rated: K - English - Friendship - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,495 - Sherlock H., DI Lestrade - Complete NOTE: This is a whole series. If you like it, look up the rest under the author. It’s super cute.
Of Surgeons and Soldiers by EmRose92 Being a doctor has its advantages. He knows how to put people back together, and he knows how to take them apart. 221B is forced into a hostage situation, and John seems to be the only one who has the power to get them out of it. Includes BAMF John, protective Sherlock, and several unfortunate criminals who mess with the wrong army doctor. No slash. Rated: K+ - English - Adventure/Family - Chapters: 2 - Words: 9,695 - Sherlock H., John W. - Complete
The Empty Home by chai4anne Sherlock would always be haunted by memories of one particular case. The first body, its once-so-familiar features blurred by the passing of time and death, moved him more than he would ever have expected. But the worst was the skeleton he uncovered later, bits of hair and clothes still clinging to it—which had no effect on him whatever, until he looked up and saw John's face. Rated: T - English - Mystery/Suspense - Chapters: 28 - Words: 150,773 - Sherlock H., John W. - Complete
The frigid trench by Nova-chan Sherlock is badly hurt. And alone. And incapacitated. Rated: T - English - Drama/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 15 - Words: 13,118 - Sherlock H., John W. - Complete
The Hand You're Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working. COMPLETE. Rated: T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 12,092 - Sherlock H., John W. - Complete
The Secret Identity of John Watson by scifigrl47 Taken out of context, John Watson leads a terrifying life. You have to wonder what those poor women he dates thinks of it, especially if John decides to try keeping one away from Sherlock, and Sherlock decides that it'd be best if he could get rid of her Rated: T - English - Humor - Chapters: 3 - Words: 29,251 - John W., Sherlock H. - Complete
This Is What He Does For Fun by nyssa123 Sherlock and John go to the pub after a long day and Sherlock realizes that the man sitting next to them is a serial killer. He then proceeds to tell everyone how he knows. Written for a prompt on the LJ kinkmeme.
Rated: K+ - English - Humor/Mystery - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,147 - John W., Sherlock H. - Complete
Totem by IshkabibbleScribble Rescuing Sherlock from the clutches of a violent terrorist cell forces John to rely on a long-unused, lethal skill. Rated: T - English - Friendship/Drama - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,752 - Sherlock H., John W. - Complete
War Wound by SoulfireInc Set sometime after Sherlock's return, before John's wedding to Mary Mortsan. An old comrade of John's arrives at 221B Baker St, scared and desperate for the consulting detective's help. Perhaps, had Sherlock known the consequences he and John would suffer as a result of this surprise encounter, he never would have accepted the case ... [Written before season three aired.] Rated: K+ - English - Drama/Friendship - Chapters: 1 - Words: 21,319 - Sherlock H., John W., DI Lestrade, OC - Complete
From AO3 (alphabetical order) - NOTE: Just like the ff.net list, I did NOT include anything from the authors I recommended because these lists are just ginormous.
NOTE: I did *not* include warnings, pairings, etc in these summaries (too many tags to try and organize in the messy copy/pastes). Read the tags if you have any sensitivities/squicks/etc for all links!
Most anything by CaffieneKitty (over 100 shorts, so some I really love, others I can pass. Well worth checking out)
Anything by dragonnan if you want a huge wallop of angst. Also illustrations. Also writes in the MCU.
Anything by Jolie_Black (You thought stories written in script could only be bad? You thought WRONG. Very very canon-compliant goodness).
Anything by sgam76 (another multi-genre writer)
A Freak Adventure by dioscureantwins Words: 13,719 Chapters: 1/1 Teen And Up Audiences Sherlock Holmes Sally Donovan John Watson Mrs. Hudson Oh Christ, the Freak will be like a dog with two tails if she turns to him for assistance. Sally can feel her hands curling into fists ready to punch the condescending smirk off his face as she glares at the lift panel, willing the lift to go faster. But this is about Susy, Sally tells herself, not about him or Sally’s abhorrence of the atrocious git. She’s still convinced he gets off on it but he can wank himself into a stupor over Susy’s disappearance for all she cares as long as he finds her.
A Smelly Affair by dioscureantwins Words: 13,756 Chapters: 1/1 General Audiences Sherlock Holmes John Watson Mrs Hudson Greg Lestrade Molly Hooper Anthea Mycroft Holmes Sherlock had published an interesting thesis on the splintering of various woods on his website. As well as an equally fascinating treatise on different types of ropes and knots and the best techniques for securing someone. Obviously, his captors had followed those instructions to the letter; thereby disproving John’s theory nobody took notice of Sherlock’s website. A victory, perhaps, but one Sherlock felt he could have done without. Trust his readership to turn the tables on the author. Morons.
Constantly by thesignsofserbia Words: 4,530 Chapters: 1/1 Mature Sherlock Holmes Mycroft Holmes Mycroft and Sherlock have a tenuous relationship at best, but with Sherlock taking down Moriarty's web, they might need each other more than they'd care to admit.
Croatia-Water-Blue by hollyesque Words: 12,117 Chapters: 1/1 Not Rated Sherlock Holmes John Watson Mycroft Holmes “I…” John licks his lips, twitches his fingers as though he wants to reach out, “I’m here, Sherlock,” he says; “I know I haven’t been, but…but I am now.” Sherlock wrinkles his nose. Haven’t been—? “What on earth do you mean, you haven’t been here?” he asks, “You’ve been living here.”
Getting to Know You by Dimity Blue (Arnie) Words: 4,605 Chapters: 1/1 General Audiences Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley Sherlock Holmes John Watson Mycroft Holmes John picked up the kettle. "Nothing from Lestrade?"Sherlock flipped himself over on the sofa and presented John with his back; John sometimes felt he was living with a cat.Clicking the switch on the kettle, John grinned to himself and, keeping his tone casual, said, "Maybe you could send him an owl."There was silence for a few seconds, then Sherlock asked, "Why would I send him an owl?"
Landscape With The Fall Of Icarus by CaitlinFairchild Words: 4,572 Chapters: 1/1 Teen And Up Audiences Sherlock Holmes Mycroft Holmes John Watson Closing his eyes, Sherlock allows himself a brief swell of feeling--let’s not put a name on it, just call it a feeling--for his big brother. He knows that when Mycroft opens that steel door again, every man now inside will be a fresh corpse.The East Wind will take them all, Sherlock thinks fuzzily, before the curtain of sleep descends.
London Orbital by merripestin Words: 13,642 Chapters: 1/1 General Audiences Greg Lestrade Sally Donovan Sherlock Holmes John Watson "I'm driving first," Sally said. "Guv can take over after me. If we're all still mad enough to be at this after that, John can drive third shift. Then the freak, if we decide we can risk it.""John doesn't drive," said Sherlock."Then what's John along for?" Sally protested. Which Greg reckoned had to be just Sally trying to wind Sherlock up. She knew better. All night in a car with Sherlock was bad enough. All night driving round and round the M25 looking for a killer, with Sherlock deprived of John Watson, sounded like a new circle of hell.
Official Recruiter by Captain_Author Words: 49,469 Chapters: 21/21 General Audiences Clint Barton Phil Coulson Sherlock Holmes John Watson Stephen Strange Crimes were so simple before aliens, gods, and supernatural abilities made themselves known. But Sherlock Holmes never enjoyed simple and these inhumans and mutants provided quite a challenge. SHIELD needed someone to find the superpowered. Funny how both their needs can be met.
Rigging screws, size 1 3/8 inch, galvanised by AJHall Words: 15,250 Chapters: 6/6 Teen And Up Audiences Sherlock Holmes John Watson "How's a woman supposed to prove her husband's a murderer, dammit?" On the eve of a planned voyage to Brittany, Marjorie Jameson starts her day with no problems more pressing than forcing a boatyard to do an emergency repair to the family yacht. A chance encounter at the Cowes hi-speed ferry terminal begins to unravel a web of conspiracy and murder, with her charming, untrustworthy husband Julian right at the centre and Marjorie as the next intended victim.But no-one's going to trust the word of an aging housewife whose complaints of abuse the police have previously dismissed as delusions.
Somewhere in the Dinaric Alps by drpepperdiva91 Words: 1,735 Chapters: 1/1 General Audiences Sherlock Holmes John Watson Sherlock is caught off-guard by a flashback to his time in Serbia, just before John arrives home from work. Sweet, but still semi-realistic, hurt/comfort.
The Case of the Missing Bus Ticket by Unsentimentalf Words: 10,543 Chapters: 1/1 General Audiences Dirk Gently Sherlock Holmes Richard MacDuff John Watson Mycroft Holmes When Dirk and Richard's new client inexplicably fails to stay alive long enough to pay them, their ailing finances mean that a certain amount of subterfuge is required to get them back to London. The sudden death of their client has, however, attracted the attention of another rather more famous (if less holistic) detective and the stage is set for a long distance bus ride of suspense…
The Green Blade by verityburns Words: 72,929 Chapters: 15/15 Teen And Up Audiences Sherlock Holmes John Watson Lestrade (Inspector) Mycroft Holmes Sally Donovan Anderson (Sherlock) Mrs. Hudson As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at an all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit... WARNING: COMMENTS CONTAIN SPOILERS!
The Holiday by Scriblit Words: 18,962 Chapters: 9/9 Mature Sherlock Holmes John Watson Mycroft Holmes Mrs. Hudson Greg Lestrade Molly Hooper Mary Morstan ACD Canon Characters A month following an horrific, sadistic attack during a case, Sherlock is still physically incapacitated and emotionally damaged. A holiday is suggested, but even stuck out in the middle of nowhere, he and John happen upon a case that could make Sherlock begin to feel like his old self again - or could kill him.BBC Sherlock Reworking of ACD's Devil's Foot, with Illustrious Client in flashbacks. Scenes of violence and implied "off screen" sexual violence/sexual assault.
The Shallow End by hollyesque Words: 6,923 Chapters: 1/1 Teen And Up Audiences Sherlock Holmes John Watson Mycroft Holmes "I told you once that I don't have friends," he says to John's back, "Now you know why."
The Silence of the Bees by trappedinathoughtbubble Words: 14,169 Chapters: 7/? Mature Sherlock Holmes John Watson Mary Morstan Mary Watson Greg Lestrade Mycroft Holmes A kidnapped teenage girl. A political conspiracy. Bees. And somehow in the midst of it all, John learns a few things Sherlock forgot to mention about those two years. Note: Not completed, but the author's around and one of the sweetest people ever if you want to give encouragement to take a look again at this story!
The Triple Bluff by SarahKnight Words: 28,331 Chapters: 8/8 Mature Sherlock Holmes Greg Lestrade Mycroft Holmes Sally Donovan Philip Anderson Sherlock annoys his landlord at Montague street, grows to hate Donovan and gets into trouble a lot on a kidnapping case involving a woman who bullied him as a child.The events leading up to A Study In Pink. A case fic that answers questions from the first episode such as why Sherlock had to leave Montague Street and find a new flatmate, why he and Lestrade both quit smoking but didn't know the other had, why there's so much animosity between Sherlock and Donovan, and why Sherlock hates traveling in a police car.
Welcome Home by thesignsofserbia Words: 3,435 Chapters: 1/1 Teen And Up Audiences Sherlock Holmes John Watson Mrs. Hudson Mycroft Holmes "All my nightmares escaped my head. Bar the door, please don’t let them in. You were never supposed to leave. Now my head's splitting at the seams."
And of course I have my own Sherlock/Doctor Strange crossover up on AO3 if that tickles your fancy, illustrations and all. :D
But if you haven’t delved deep into the fandom, this should tide you over for some time.
This list is by no means an exhaustive list of recs. I didn’t really include anything that concentrated on a romantic pairing, for instance. I left off anything explicit as well. But yeah, here’s a small amount of the overall goodness produced by the BBC Sherlock fandom over the last 10 years.
#neutronstardust13#long post#bbc sherlock#fic rec#sherlock holmes#john watson#gen fic#genre: humor#genre: angst#genre: fluff#crossover#greg lestrade#mycroft holmes#martha hudson#ask#answered
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~Where the Wild Roses Grow~
Image Credit: Myself @badwolf-in-the-impala. None of the images are mine, just the editing.
~Chapter 9~
Previous Chapters -- ((Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8))
Rating: Mature/18+
Pairings: Tommy Shelby x OFC.
Warnings: PTSD, drug use, alcohol use, smoking, language, physical abuse, sexual content, violence, angst...
Chapter Warnings: Stalking, physical violence, attempted kidnapping, smoking, drinking, fighting, murder (not main character) Poorly written sexy times...
Word Count: 4,765
A/N: I am so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to get this out...I struggled with this chapter so much anyways, and then add a good dose of quarantine depression on top of that and my inspiration pretty much got shot in the ass for a good long while. Anywho, I deeply apologize in advance for the sex scene in this chapter. I personally feel it’s absolutely horrid. I was trying to am for romance/tasteful vs. full blown smut for the first time...I’m sorry. You can skip it if you have to. I tried 0.o Also a huge shout out to @jacksonroseroth for helping me get this done! You rock boo <3
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The sharp metallic ‘click’ of Tommy’s lighter being snapped closed is what finally broke the eerie silence that had cloaked the late night air. A cloud of sweet tobacco smoke trailing into the darkness, his thumb stroking along his lower lip in thought as he leaned against the shadowed wall of the alleyway in which he stood. Still concealed from Althea’s line of sight as he watched her hurry inside. No doubt still on edge after having clearly sensed she was being followed by someone.
Of course, he could have spoken up, could’ve announced his presence to help put her mind at ease...But he was in no mood for niceties. Especially after he watched her deliberately disobey the order he had given for her to stay at the Garrison until he returned. But that would be a conversation for another time. Tommy knew it would be simpler to avoid any more conflict for the evening. So long as Thea was safe, that was all that mattered.
So there he stood. Lurking, cold, and frustrated from the alleyway as he waited for Althea’s window to illuminate with the soft glow of light from a lantern; Signaling that she was safely inside. He checked his pocket watch the best he could manage in the poorly lit alley, noting that several minutes had passed and there was still no light from her window. A frown tugged the edges of his mouth downward as he stamped out the last of his cigarette, considering it rather strange. A heavy sigh escaped from his lips as he stepped out of the shadows, his trench coat sweeping out behind him as he moved closer towards Althea’s building, worried that perhaps he had frightened her into hiding.
That was when he heard it. A faint but discernible scream, belonging to none other than Althea herself. Tommy acted quickly, his gun already drawn as instinct kicked in and he raced inside. All but kicking down the first door as he raced up the three flights of stairs, taking them three at a time till he reached Althea’s floor.
Upon reaching her door, he could hear the scuffle that came from inside, wasting no time as he kicked the door in, his blood boiling at the sight of Althea pinned beneath her attacker on the floor. The cold barrel of his gun already pressed to the back of the man's head before he even had the chance to register what was happening.
“Move.” Tommy commanded with a low growl. Motioning for the man to release Althea immediately. “Or I blow y’er fuckin’ head off.” Slowly, the man raised his hands in a show of surrender. A strangled gasp mixed with a sob escaping Althea as he did so before standing slowly. Releasing her to roll out from beneath him as she turned onto her side; Struggling to regain her bearings as all the air came rushing back into her lungs. “You alrigh’?” Tommy questioned as he grabbed the man roughly by the back of his shirt collar, and clocking him with the butt of his gun to disorient him.
Althea nodded stiffly, unable to speak quite yet, but it was all the sign Tommy needed as he dragged her attacker out into the hallway, down the three flights of stairs, and out into the very same alley he had been standing in only minutes ago. The sound of cartilage and bone cracking beneath his knuckles filling the air as he struck Althea’s attacker square in the face. Once...Twice...Three times. “Who sent you?! Eh?” He shook the man roughly as he pulled him upright. Tommy’s fingers locked onto the fabric of the man’s coat like a vice to keep him from slumping to the ground.
“F-Fuck off!” The man slurred as he spit a mouthful of blood and chipped tooth fragments at the ground, splattering Tommy’s shoes...Another loud ‘crack’ filled the silence of the alley as Tommy’s fist collided with the man's face several more times, before he repeated the same question. A cycle that repeated itself again and again until the man was verging on unconsciousness. “A-Alrigh’! I’ll -- I-I’ll t-talk…”
“Who.Sent.You?” Tommy seethed. “Was it Kimber? What’s he want with Althea Bennett?” Tommy demanded, giving the man another rough shake. Trying to keep him awake long enough to give him some form of answer.
“A-Aye…” The man nodded weakly, his head lolling back as he gazed up at Tommy through swollen eyes. Lips curving into a sneer as blood trickled from his mouth; Coating his teeth. “A-Ask the b-bloody w-whore y’erself.”
It was all Tommy could do to contain his rage as he hauled the man to his feet, cracking him one last time before leaning in dangerously close to ensure he got his point across. “Aye, well, ye go tell your boss, that if anyone so much as looks in her direction the wrong fuckin’ way--” Tommy pointed back towards Althea’s flat. “I’ll fuckin’ slaughter every last one of ya. Understood?” The man nodded stiffly, struggling to catch himself from falling as Tommy released him from his grasp. Shoving him backwards towards the entrance of the alleyway. “Now fuck off, ‘fore I blow y’er damn head off.” The man didn’t have to be told twice as he scampered off -- Like the rat he was -- back towards the street before disappearing entirely.
Tommy drew in a deep breath to try and settle the anger that still pumped through his veins. Shoving another cigarette between his lips and lighting it as he exited the alley, pausing only briefly to scan the darkened streets carefully, ensuring there were no other potential threats before he started back for Althea’s flat. Noting that her window was now illuminated by the soft glow of a lantern. “Bloody hell…” He sighed softly as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, flicking the last of his cigarette butt into the street before entering the building and ascending the stairs once more. Coming to a stop just outside of Althea’s door that still sat slightly ajar. Tommy, barely able to glimpse the sight of her standing in front of her window, a bottle of gin clutched in her hand. The faint sound of her muffled crying catching his attention as he pushed the door open.
“You alrigh’?” There was still a hard edge to Tommy’s voice as he stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him softly. Althea sniffled harshly, her back still to Tommy as she wiped at the tears that stained her cheeks in an attempt to compose herself. But her broken reflection in the window hid nothing.
“F-Fine.” She hiccupped softly before taking another pull from the bottle in her hand. Her voice was incredibly hoarse, and Tommy was unsure if it was from all the crying or something else.
“Don’t sound fine.” Tommy resigned with a sigh as he stepped away from the door abruptly, his brows creasing with concern as he watched how Althea tensed at the suddenness of his footsteps, causing him to pause momentarily; His steps softening as he approached more cautiously. “Let’s have a look then, eh?”
His touch was light as he gripped her chin carefully, tilting her face towards his own and into the light as he got a better look. There was a small split in her lower lip and bruises were already beginning to form on her neck from her attacker’s hands. The sight of it all brought Tommy’s blood back to boiling as he scrubbed a hand over his face roughly. Another sigh leaving his lips as he turned to fetch a clean bowl of water and a rag.
Althea’s gaze followed Tommy, carefully, as she tried to read him. But his expression was too cold, too indifferent; Leaving her unable to decipher what was going on inside of that head of his...But she could tell he was angry. And she had her suspicions that she was more or less the reasoning behind that anger, and that she was likely to bear the brunt of it sooner rather than later.
“Sit.” Tommy ordered, his tone flat as he set the bowl of water on the table before shrugging out of his coat to drape it over the chair beside him, turning his attention to rolling up his sleeves as Althea took a seat. Bringing the bottle back to her lips for one final pull before setting it aside. A thick, uncomfortable silence filling the air between them as Tommy took a seat. His eyes focused on tearing the clean linen rag he held clean in two, casting the unused piece of cloth back onto the table beside the wash basin before dipping the other half into the water to wet it before gripping her chin carefully once more. Dabbing lightly at the blood that had mostly dried to Althea’s chin, cleaning around the afflicted area of her lower lip gently. The silence slowly grew more unbearable with each passing second, until Althea chose to finally open her mouth...A decision she regretted almost instantly.
“If your going to jus’ sit there, stewing in your own anger, maybe it would be best if you jus’ leave...I don’t need y’er help.” The words came out a bit harsher than Althea intended them to, but her own anger was subtly starting to bubble to the surface...After all, if anyone had a right to be angry right now, it should be her; Right?
Tommy’s gaze was quick to snap up to meet Althea’s. A fire set ablaze in those icy blue orbs of his as he tossed the rag aside with an exasperated sigh. “You don’t need my help, eh?” Tommy sneered. “‘Cause it seems to me, that’s all you ever fuckin’ need.” His words were like a slap to the face. Worse, even. And they made Althea’s blood boil. Pulling to the surface, a rage that she had kept buried for what seemed like an eternity.
“Don’t.” Althea spoke, an eerie calm washing over her as all the emotion drained away from her face. Leaving her expression almost as cold and unreadable as Tommy’s was on most occasions; Save for this one, in particular. “You don’ get the right to be angry--”
“I don’t have a fuckin’ right?!” Tommy barked as he shot up from his chair, the sudden movement knocking it into the table roughly, causing Althea to flinch, but her expression remained blank as he continued. “You went and got attacked by one of Billy goddamn Kimber’s men! Seems to me, I’ve got every fuckin’ right to be angry; An I’m angry, because you’re hiding somethin’.”
“I’m not hiding anythin’.” Althea snapped coldly as she pushed her own chair back, rising to her feet as she turned away from Tommy towards the window, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as she tried to keep her composure.
“Then why in the bloody hell didn’ you mention Kimber, eh?” Tommy demanded. “‘Cause according to his man I jus’ beat bloody, and Kimber’s own reaction to seein’ you at the Garrison, the two of you seem well acquainted.”
“I didn’t think it mattered.” Althea shot back, and that was the truth. She never thought her past dealings with Billy Kimber would become relevant when she started working for Tommy. And it’s not as though Tommy had exactly been forthcoming about all of his business dealings since hiring her, either. Not too say that Althea didn’t have a good idea as to what kind of things a man such as Thomas Shelby had dealings in...But it was none of her business to know about the things he didn’t want her knowing about. Just as it was none of his business to know about her run-ins with Billy fucking Kimber.
“Of course it fuckin’ matters!” Tommy shouted, running a frustrated hand over his face as he turned to face Althea at the window. “It’s Billy fuckin’ Kimber, for Christs sake, Thea--”
“And my business with Billy Kimber is none of yours!” Althea rounded on Tommy, suddenly. Forcing him to take a step back to keep from running into her. “Jus’ as you’ve made your business dealings with him, or most of your dealings for that matter, none of mine!” The anger in her voice was evident now.
“Your business is your business, Thomas. You want to keep me out of it, that’s y’er choice. But where’s that leave me when things go bad, eh?” Althea gestured angrily to the bruises forming around her neck, her anger slowly dissolving as her throat grew tight again; Her voice cracking as she added, “You want to keep things from me, Thomas, that’s fine...But when shite like this goes down, don’t you dare turn it back on me like it’s my fault!.”
The room fell silent again as Althea turned her back to Tommy, gazing out the window into the darkness again as a few more silent tears slipped down her cheeks. Her anger was still evident in the way she held herself as she gazed out into the darkness, but that didn’t stop Tommy from taking a cautious step towards her; Hand extended, his voice softening a he spoke, “Thea--”
He wasn’t ready, however, for how she would react. Completely caught off guard as Althea spun on her heel to face him, leaving him no time to react as her hand connected with his cheek unexpectedly -- Not to say that he didn’t deserve it though. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” She growled, her voice shaking as she spoke, her hand shifting to raise once more. Only this time, Tommy was prepared for it. Quick as he closed his fingers around her wrist carefully to keep her from striking a second time.
“Thea.” He repeated more firmly as he took another step closer to her. Cold blue eyes trained on the tears that stained her cheeks as she stared up at him. Lip quivering as she tried with everything she had to keep it together. The last thing she wanted right now was to completely fall apart in front of the one person she so desperately wanted to be angry with. But it was too late. The damage had already been done, and before she knew it, everything came flooding forth in a blur as the dams which had been holding back every last ounce of emotion, suddenly came crashing down around her. The sobs that fell from her lips shook her to her very core, and they were enough to make Tommy’s chest grow tight as he watched the tears she had been fighting to keep back spill down her cheeks. And she didn’t object when the hand that held her wrist, fell away to pull her into a tight embrace. Althea’s sobs growing muffled as she buried her face against Tommy’s chest. And that’s how they stayed for several minutes. At least until Althea’s sobbing had become less violent.
“Come on, now, love.” Tommy said, a little softer, cupping her cheek as he lifted her head gently. Althea sniffled and leaned into the touch slightly before she blinked open her eyes. Her gaze shifted from those icy blues that were so full of concern for her in that moment, to his lips; Unable to stop herself as a strong feeling of desire swept over her and she reached up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his...Feeling a little more than embarrassed when Tommy was quick to pull away from her. Confusion evident on his face as his eyes searched hers.
“I’m sorry…I--” She whispered, trying to turn away from him as she felt the tears well in her eyes again. About to mentally chastise herself when Tommy caught her by the elbow, turning her back to face him as he rejoined his lips with hers. His hands moved to cup her face, one drifting up a little farther into her hair pushing it back before settling on her neck as he pulled her closer. Althea melted into the touch. Her lips moved slowly against his own at first, but the kiss was quick to become more fervent. More hungry. A soft moan escaped her lips as he guided her backwards, pausing when her lower back bumped into the dining table behind them. Tommy barely missed a beat, lips never leaving hers as his hands shifted to her waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the table's edge. Being mindful of the items that still sat upon it.
Althea’s hands trembled softly as they drifted down Tommy’s chest to locate the buttons on his vest; Slender fingers undoing them shakily one by one as he settled himself between her thighs. A soft gasp parted her lips at the sudden sensation of his hand slipping beneath her skirt, fingertips slowly burning a trail up her left outer thigh to her hip. Tommy was quick to seize the opportunity of her lips parting, allowing his tongue to mingle with her own as the kiss deepened further, the pair only separating long enough for Althea to tug Tommy’s shirt over his head and cast it aside after slipping his vest off.
Tommy’s free hand fell away from Althea’s face to grip her other hip and tug her closer, reaching to undo the buttons of her blouse, his hands cautious as he subconsciously tried to gauge her reaction. Not wanting to push things any further than she wanted them to go. Following her lead as she guided his hands to push the blouse from her shoulders and down her arms where it joined his own shirt on the floor. Althea shifted as she reached behind her to untie the closure of her brassiere, breaking away from the kiss to look up at Tommy, who raised a questioning brow as he watched her. Those blue eyes burning with an eager curiosity as they watched that small piece of cotton fabric separate from her skin and drift to the floor; Her eyes telling him everything he needed to know, in that moment.
Tommy closed the gap between them once more as his lips captured her own in a hunger filled kiss, his hands drifting to explore her body. His fingertips like fire, burning against her porcelain skin as they took in every inch. From the slope of her breasts, to every beauty mark, to every scar and imperfection that marred her beautiful skin, he wanted to know every bit of it. Giving him the power to show her that her parts of herself she saw as imperfect or damaged, were not imperfect to him at all, not even in the slightest. His lips strayed from hers as they peppered a trail of warm kisses over her jaw, down her neck and across her right shoulder. The one that bared the scars of a past that she kept hidden so well from him, usually, but not tonight. No, tonight, all of Althea’s cards were laid out upon the table before him...As raw and exposed as she was.
“Beautiful.” Tommy muttered softly, his lips brushing against her bare shoulder as he spoke, causing Althea to shiver gently. The sensation stoking the flames of the fire that had ignited in her belly and spread outward, coursing through her veins like wildfire as she grasped Tommy’s chin, pulling his lips back to hers as she pressed herself closer to him. His own hands running gently up her sides before settling on her back as he held her; Their chests pressed together so tightly that he could feel her heart beating in time with his own. Althea’s hands falling to the waistband of his trousers as her fingers searched desperately to undo the button. A look of confusion tainting her features as Tommy caught her wrists gently and broke away from the kiss, trying to catch his breath as he gazed down at her.
“No.” Tommy shook his head softly. The word made Althea’s heart sink like a rock inside of her chest as she repeated the word back to him in a ghost like whisper, “No?” But before her mind had time to fully send her spiraling, he captured her lips in a gentle but passionately deep kiss, pausing only to rest his forehead against hers as he gazed into her eyes. Tugging her closer as he did so. “No, as in no, I won’t be takin’ you on the bloody table.” He pressed another soft kiss to her lips as he hooked her legs around his waist and lifted her. “Y’er too good for that.” He murmured just below her ear, forcing a soft pleasured gasp past her lips as his teeth nipped gently at the sensitive spot of flesh.
The sound of his footsteps was the only sound that filled the room after that as he carried them across the hardwood to Althea’s bed. Wasting no time at all as he laid her down gently, his lips reconnecting with her neck where they then traveled to explore each bit of newly exposed skin as he worked to finish removing the remainder of her clothing. His hands exploring her body, wanting to learn every inch, wanting to memorize those spots where just his touch alone was enough to drive her wild. The sounds of pleasure that fell from her lips being all the reward he needed in that moment. So when Althea reached for the button of his trousers a second time, she was relieved that he didn’t object as he helped her strip the pants from his waist discard them across the room.
Everything after that was a whirl of gnashing teeth and tongues as he settled himself between her legs. Althea’s fingertips digging into the hard muscle of his biceps tightly as she broke the kiss, her head pressing back into the old tick mattress, mouth falling open in silent ecstasy as Tommy entered her slowly, giving her a moment to adjust as he peppered kisses along her neck and throat before he began thrusting at an agonizingly slow pace. A soft moan, mixed with the hint of a whimper, slipping past Althea’s parted lips as her own hips rolled to meet his thrusts as his rhythm increased.
Tommy reached his right hand to grasp Althea’s thigh, his fingertips digging against the flesh harshly —Sure to leave behind small bruised indentations— as he tried to maintain some level of control over himself, focusing only her pleasure, as he angled her leg higher against his hip. His lips devouring hers as a new wave of pleasure raced through her veins. Althea’s own hands moved to grasp the bars of the metal headboard behind her; One eventually falling to twist itself into the bed sheets beneath her as the throes of pleasure began to consume her.
Althea could feel the sensation that was beginning to form in the pits of her belly. Like that of a spring that was slowly being coiled too tightly with every thrust as they grew deeper; More urgent. Tommy shifted quickly, scooping an arm beneath Althea’s back as he brought them both upright, pulling her closer as their bodies moved together as one. Small beads of sweat began to form and gather along Tommy’s hairline, matting strands of dark hair to his forehead as he buried his face against the crook of Althea’s neck. The room filled with a mix of breathy moans and cries of pleasure, as together, they were urged closer and closer to the edge of climax. Althea reached up, fingers of one hand gripping into the dark mess of hair at the crown of Tommy’s head, while the fingers of the other hand dug against the finely shorn hairs as the nape of his neck. Her breaths became more and more ragged with each powerful thrust that sent a jolt of pleasure radiating throughout her entire body. Tightening that coil in her belly a little tighter, until it released, sending Althea hurtling over the edge, her hips shuddered to a sporadic stop as the orgasm came crashing down over her like a tidal wave.
“Tommy!” Althea cried out, her back aching and her body trembling as her chest pressed against his. The sound of his name falling from her lips combined with the way her walls tightened around him as she rode out her orgasam, spurring him to his own climax as he pulled her closer, one hand cupping her cheek, blue eyes gazing into green, as his other hand pressed against her back. The rhythm of his hips as he thrusted into her several more times, faltering, before coming to an abrupt stop entirely as he met his own release inside of her; Althea pressing her lips to his. Pulling away after a few moments to rest her forehead against Tommy’s. Silence overtaking the room as the pair attempted to regain their breath while they came down from the shared high they were both on. A high that was ten times greater than any drug either of them had ever taken to escape reality.
~
The hour was late, but Billy Kimber was still busy conducting ‘business’ in his private office. He was in the midst of refastening his trousers and lighting up a cigar before collecting the money to pay one of his favorite girls for her time, when two of his men came bursting through the doors. A third man, who had been beaten into a bloody pulp slung between their shoulders. Startling a shrill shriek from the woman standing behind his desk as the men carried him to one of the chairs and sat him down.
“Oh shut the fuck up.” Kimber barked as he shoved the money at the woman, pointing at the door for her to leave; Which she wasted no time doing. “What in the bloody fuckin’ hell happened to him?!” The two men exchanged a look before glancing down at their currently unconscious friend. “Oi! Wake the FUCK up!” Kimber’s hand struck the man across the face, hard, before he gripped the man's chin and brought him to his level. The pain jolted the man back into reality as he forced open swollen eyes to gaze up at his boss.
“Nice of ye to fuckin’ join us!” Kimber growled. “Now, does someone wanna fill me in on what the fuck is goin’ on?!”
“S-Shelby.” The man croaked out before sputtering into a coughing fit that caused Kimber to release him with a disgusted look, wiping his hand against his trousers when he couldn’t find a handkerchief. “H-He must‘ave been t-tailin’ t-that girl...Busted down the f-fookin’ door.” The man gestured to himself.
“An ye jus’ let that gypsy dog beat the shite outta ya?” Kimber shouted as he threw his hands in the air before bringing one back to rest on his hip, the other reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath. “Least tell me ye finished the fuckin’ job? Did ya get the girl?”
“N-No…” The man shook his head stiffly. “Shelby, h-he said -- It w-was a warning--” Kimber had heard enough. Yanking the pistol from his desk drawer and planting a well aimed shot between the man's eyes to silence him permanently. The other two men took a step back as they watched their friend slump to the floor.
“THOMAS FUCKIN’ SHELBY!” Kimber shouted angrily as he began pacing the floor of his office. The cold steel of the pistols slide pressed against his forehead as he thought long and hard about all the ways he was going to punish that gypsy bastard when he finally got his hands on him. Thomas Shelby had been a thorn in Billy Kimber’s side for far too long, and now he just thought he was going to stand in the way of what Billy Kimber wanted the most? Well, he thought wrong. Because if Thomas Shelby continued to persist, Billy Kimber would make damn sure he’d regret it till his dying breath! And just like that, his pacing halted as a plan began to develop in his twisted mind. Kimber turned on his heel sharply to face the two men who were still rooted to the spot near his desk.
“You,” Kimber ordered one of the men over with a beckoning wave of the pistol he still held in his hand. “I’ve got a job...Think ye can manage not’ta fuck it up like y’er mate there?” He gestured to the corpse on the floor and the man nodded.
“Good.” Kimber sneered. “Then ‘ere’s what y’er gonna do.”
-------------------------------------------------
And that’s a wrap for Chapter 9! Be on the look out for Ch.10, which I will start later this afternoon and hopefully have finished when I get back from my honeymoon on Tuesday!
If you would like to be added to my taglist, please let me know! And too all of you still reading this after all this time, thank you. It means the world <3
TAGLIST: @zsblogxx @jacksonroseroth @londoncharlotte88 @liivtheangel @theworld-is-ahead @readsalot73 @ly--canthrope @harjumus @theskinofmyemotions @sympathyfortheblinderdevil @juuliaa-gooliaa @feyrearcheron44 @reyloshipper-starwars @l0tsofpennies @porcelainjokersmadness @nyxestia @crazyxreader
If I missed anyone please let me know!
#Thomas Shelby#Tommy Shelby#Peaky Blinders#peaky fookin blinders#Tommy Shelby x OC#thomas shelby x oc#Thomas Shelby fanfiction#Tommy Shelby Fanfic#peaky blinders fanfic#Fanfiction#Cillian Murphy#Where the Wild Roses Grow#Megan finally gets her shit together enough to post stories again#Writing#original female character#Fanfic#Peaky Blinders Fanfiction#Cillian Murphy Fanfiction
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I have one official character each for Fallout 3 and New Vegas, but In Fallout 4, I have like, three. Two Minutemen Generals and a Railroad Agent. Can you tell which play-through I started while bored and stuck in quarantine?
Lupe Campbell
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/Her
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Pale Blue
Sexuality: Bisexual
Nicknames: General, Madam President, Ma, Lulu
Preferred Weapon: Custom Laser Rifle
Faction: Commonwealth Minutemen
Best Friend: Nick Valentine
Love Interest: Preston Garvey
Has never done anything wrong in her life ever.
Preston knows this, and he loves her.
They have Team Mom and Team Dad Energy.
Sturges says they’re gross about it, but one time they got in a fight and he nearly cried because he though they were going to break up.
Is freakishly strong and constantly concerns and astounds people watching her carry and lift things.
Once physically lifted Hancock up over her head and carried him to the time-out corner when he was antagonizing Danse.
He lives in constant fear of being manhandled again.
Her karma is so pristine it’s practically blinding.
Loves helping Nick on cases, always looks for an excuse to wear the trench coat and fedora.
Has unique sense of fashion, thinks the Minutemen General Cosplay is high couture, only wears high-waist Mom Jeans.
Had joined up with the Brotherhood for a little bit, but after Danse got kicked out she left.
Actually, what happened was she stormed into Maxon’s office, lectured him in a way only a mom could, told him she wasn’t mad, just disappointed and then left the Prydwen and hasn’t returned since.
Maxon locked himself in his quarters afterwards to brood, not to cry, he definitely didn’t cry.
(He cried a little bit)
Danse joined the Minutemen after that. It was like the Brotherhood, but they were as loyal to him as he was to them. It really helped him cope and renewed his sense of purpose.
Lupe and Preston are proud of him.
Everyone jokes that he’s like their son behind their backs. Hancock got caught once (see above mentioned physical lifitng).
Her Mom Energy is so potent that legit most of the companions and even some of the Minutemen and Sanctuary settelers gave her the nickname ‘Ma’
Does not drink, does not smoke, what does she do?
She delivers Justice.
Fox Hawthorne
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/ Her
Hair Color: Ginger
Eye Color: Green
Sexuality: Lesbian
Nicknames: Whisper (Deacon) Renarde (Curie)
Preferred Weapon: Silenced Sniper Rifle
Faction: The Railroad
Best Friend: MacCready
Love Interest: Curie
Closeted Pre-War, had a family to please her mother, actually pretty sad, doesn’t like talking about it except where Shaun is concerned.
“Fox” is not her real name but she refuses to tell anyone what it really is and there’s no way for them to ever find out for sure.
Deacon once snuck down to the vault to see if it was on record somewhere only to find out she was one step ahead of him.
She hacked the records and wherever her true name had been was replaced with a string of emojis.
🦊🍑👅🖕🏻
Codsworth is programmed to call her “Miss Fox” and does not understand the fact that she has another name so he’s no help either.
She can NOT stand staying in Sanctuary (too many memories) and renovated the Red Rocket station nearby to keep her stuff in.
A settlement formed around it and they’re pretty friendly with their Minutemen neighbors even though Preston is constantly trying to get Fox to join the cause.
She will not, she thinks the outfits are tacky, but secretly still goes out of her way to help settlements.
Curie loves it when she does that.
Her relationship with MacCready is summed up by ‘Pure of Heart, Dumb of Ass / Lesbian’.
Do Not Separate Them.
They platonically raise Shaun and Duncan together.
“This is our dad, and this is our mom, and this is our mom’s girlfriend, Curie.”
Two Snipers Out In The Commonwealth Doing Sniper Things.
He literally pouts every time Fox leaves him at Red Rocket to do Railroad Missions with Deacon.
Curie keeps him company, they get along stupendously.
Other than Railroad Missions, or Settlement Rescue Mission Dates with Curie, Fox and MacCready are joined at the hip and are off doing dumb shit.
Always return to Red Rocket with broken noses, dislocated shoulders, cuts, bumps, and bruises and Curie has to patch them up.
Fox claims her kisses have healing properties.
She’s flirting, but Curie thinks she’s serious and has offered to kiss MacCready’s wounds as well.
He had to politely decline multiple times for fear of facing certain death via sandman kill.
The weirdest trio in the Commonwealth.
No one understands their dynamic.
It works because all three of them are the awkward third wheel of the friendship.
Bo
Gender: ???
Pronouns: They/Them
Hair Color: ???
Eye Color: ???
Sexuality: Pansexual
Nicknames: Commonwealth Cryptid
Preferred Weapon: Molotov Cocktail
Faction: Commonwealth Minutemen
Best Friend: Dogmeat
Love Interest: Hancock
Has good intentions, but bad methods.
Takes their title as General of the Minutemen very seriously.
Makes sure every settlement has enough food, water, and defense.
Spends hours decorating and making them look nice.
Could have a promising future (or past?) in architecture and interior design.
Intelligence stat is either 1 or 10, no one knows.
All their strategies are chaotic and crackpot but like; they work???
Chooses the Sarcastic response 100% of the time.
Low-Key devout member of the Children of Atom.
Wears assault gas mask and only ever takes off the mask when they’re furious and deadly serious, or you know, when they’re going to sleep.
Legitimately no one, not even the companions, knows what they look like, or even if they’re human or not.
Hancock knows, because he’s seen them naked, but refuses to tell anyone because he lives for the chaos and will constantly make up fake shit just to fuck with the rest of the group.
Hancock is the only living individual who knows what their face looks like.
Piper tried to see if Shaun knew anything and was like, “are you not even a little curious?”
The kid just shrugged, and like, messed around with a Laser Sniper Rifle he was making and was like “they’re my parent. That’s just how they are. I like them the way they are”.
MacCready swears up and down that he saw them turn their head 180 degrees like an owl one time.
Hancock backed him up, but he was huffing jet and laughing his ass off the whole time so no one knows if he was serious.
Gives “let’s get this freak show on the road” a whole new connotation.
Can only shop at Diamond City Surplus at night because Crazy Myrna refuses to sell to them.
She thinks they’re a synth and will not take “No, I’m Jangles the Moon Monkey” as an answer.
Definitely did blow up the Prydwen.
Stole Maxon’s jacket.
Has the Cannibalism perk.
It’s just practical, there are lots of dead bodies everywhere and food is scarce. If they eat a raider, then somehow, somewhere, there’s a Fancy Lad Snack Cake left for a starving orphan to eat.
No one else seems to see it this way.
Loves Brahmin.
I mean, really loves them.
Will stop whatever they’re doing to pet one if they see one.
If they’re working as part of a caravan, they’ll call them Ma’am and apologize for disrupting their work, but will still pet them.
Caravan Guards who see this behavior: ?????
Maxed Stealth and Pickpocket perks
Is a Little Sneak Thief
All their armor has Chameleon Legendary effects.
This stresses everyone out because that means they can be anywhere at any time and oh my God, where are they? I know they’re in here with me, where are they???
Once snuck up on MacCready (accidentally) and pulled an actual full swear word out of the guy. It was loud.
And it was the Fuck word.
It’s Bo’s proudest achievement.
Was totally on board with being the Overboss of Nukaworld until Gage suggested raiding Commonwealth Settlements.
They take their title as General of the Minutemen very very seriously.
They took off the mask, and all of Nukaworld saw their face that day. T’was brutal.
I’m talking “Rip and tear until it is done”.
I’m talking heavy metal theme music and everything.
It’s a nice and peaceful little trader settlement now. Bo planted flowers everywhere.
So, did you guess which one I started cuz I was bored in quarantine, yet? Did you guess all three? You would be correct.
#i have no explanation#fallout#fallout 4#fallout 3#fallout new vegas#fallout oc#incorrect fallout#preston garvey#fallout hancock#fallout maccready#fallout curie#fallout deacon#dogmeat#nick valentine
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Dear readers, if you are actually here often enough you know by now that I mostly have this loosely assembled mass of posts I refer to as a blog in order to vent about the shite parts of my life without having to burden the people I love and trust. But occasionally something lovely happens and I post about that instead. This, guys, gals, and animals in a trench coat, is one of those times. Let us revisit 3 incidents that happened yesterday....
Incident#One: The Spawn came downstairs to put on her shoes to go to her one in person class, cosmetology, at the high school tech center & said “omg Mom, shit is going down in cosmo today. You need to hear this...” The following is the story she told me:
The tech center serves the entire school district, so students that have been accepted to the programs there come from all 4 of the high schools. In cosmetology they sit at tables similar to old science lab tables, 2 students on each side, 4 students total. They can choose who sits at their tables together, so The Spawn’s table is her (obviously), her friend (who we will call GG) that is a cute little goth girl that has been to my house a couple of times and told me she admires my decor (love that), and 2 cheerleaders from another h.s. One of the cheerleaders is a sweet girl that both The Spawn & GG are friends with. The other is the perfect stereotype of the mean girl cheerleader, is incredibly rude and snobby, but is the nice cheerleader’s bestie, so they allow it. We will call that second cheerleader “Mean Girl”. Well, GG facetimed The Spawn before class that morning and said:
“I’m fed up with Mean Girl. She’s incredibly rude and disrespectful. Ever since she started sitting with us, she refuses to properly wear her mask and forces her way into sitting right next to you, even though you’ve expressed repeatedly that if you get exposed to the virus and your mom gets it, she won’t survive it. (this is a fact, straight from my lung doctor’s mouth.) I’m going to talk to [instructor & head of program that LOVES The Spawn] and if she won’t do anything, like [instructor The Spawn has spoken to a few times about this], I’m going to put Mean Girl in her place and tell her to wear her fucking mask right or find some other table to infect. Nobody deserves to die from this virus, but certainly not your mom. She’s so nice and so cool. Mean Girl is fucked up for that & it’s getting fixed TODAY.”
Y’all. I have met this girl twice & she is willing to throw down for my safety. For anyone wondering why The Spawn hasn’t taken it further than repeatedly talking to Mean Girl and [instructor], it’s because after an incident in middle school, she is very fearful of confrontation on that level.
Incident#Two: I get a call from The Spawn after she has left cosmetology & picked up Brook for a trip to the nail salon. Here is how that call went down:
“Momma, Brook is dying. Can you help?”
“Um... I’m going to need more information.”
“Remember how my periods were before birth control? How I would miss 5 days of school and just lay in bed bleeding & puking from the cramp pain? That’s what’s happening. She took a bunch of advil but it hasn’t helped. She’s been in the car for 10 minutes & I’ve pulled over twice for her to puke.”
“Oh man. Poor kid. Has she ever tried midol? It’s specifically formulated to handle period stuff.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t work for her.”
“Ok. Well I have a couple heating pads that plug into a usb port for the car, saltines sprite and peppermints for the nausea, and she can take one of my muscle relaxers. Cramps are just basically muscle cramps but in your uterus and the type of muscle relaxers I take don’t fuck you up.”
“Ok, thanks momma. I knew you’d know what to do. Oh! Do you have pads?”
“Yeah, from last time one of your friends was over and didn’t use tampons.”
“Ok, we’ll be there in a minute.”
They show up and I load them up with all the stuff they need. They depart.
Incident#Three: This one ties back to #Two. So about 20-30 minutes later, my front door opens. In shuffles Brook, looking like she’s barely alive, and she immediately scampers to my bathroom to dry heave. She comes back and says:
“Hey, I couldn’t handle the nail salon. But I’d rather die over here than at my house.” (For context, her mom passed when she was 9 & she lives with just her dad and little brother. I’ve been her resource for chick related stuff like how to do her makeup and handle her hair.)
“Honey, you know I consider you my second child, so you are always welcome here, any time and in any state. Want me to gather you some supplies, like a lined trash can, so you can go lay down in The Spawn’s room?”
“Yes please.”
So while I gather up supplies for her, we chat about what’s going on a bit. It’s definitely the pain that’s causing the puking, so I give her a quarter of one of my pain pills just so she can have a little relief, hopefully. Then she goes up to hibernate in The Spawn’s room with instructions to call or text me if she needs anything or if quarantined pup starts whining so I can take her out. Then I settle in and text The Spawn to update her. Her response:
“Thank you Momma. I knew that you’d be the best person to take care of her since you’ve always taken such good care of me when I’m sick or in pain. I will text you when I’m on my way back.”
MY HEART. things like this let me know that at some point, somewhere along the way, I did something right while parenting.
Obviously...
[ DISCLAIMER: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES DOES ANYONE HAVE PERMISSION TO REBLOG THIS POST. if you reblog, I will find you, I will send you a very abrasive rude message, & I will block you. Thanks! -Dumpster Fire Management ]
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Lyssa, I love how you wrote the anon’s essential worker request because honestly you did it perfectly. You didn’t make them break the law or social distancing, you made it real for us. You didn’t idealize this situation, because in no way should it be, you made it loving but sad. I respect how you did that so much, and being able to write like that is so impressive. Thank you so much. Stay safe 💚
this became super ranty and venty omg im so sorry
this is what I needed to hear oh god... I honestly was using that as a means to rant. like I understand that that anon was using this as a means to escape, but I don’t like escaping. I enjoy staring my problems in the face because I feel like ignoring them or making them better isn’t the way to go. and I know, I know that I romanticize and idealize some things but I couldn’t do that.
for my discord servers quarantine writing event I wrote it with midoriya and only made it light hearted because he didn’t have to go out in the world. they were quarantined together and didn’t have to worry about potentially getting the virus and spreading it. I didn’t make midoriya a front line essential worker because I knew if I did I wouldnt be able to write something not angsty in good faith.
I want to be a doctor. when I graduate from university I plan on moving forward onto med school. this pandemic is something thats once in a lifetime, and its hurting not only my fellow brown and black people the most (in terms of cases in america), but the profession I want to join. when you think of becoming a doctor, you never think of having to face this. you go through countless of seminars and classes but something that covid19 is doing to us has always been theoretical and hypothetical. I mean remember the swine flu and ebola??? covid is so much more dangerous. I just couldn’t make it something where the moment you got home, even if you were practicing social distancing, it was as if you were a few blocks away because it isn’t that.
and as I wrote that essential worker thing I started crying because holy shit it made me realize how ignorant I’ve been. ive seen countless and countless of videos of nurses and doctors sobbing to their cameras, videos of trenches being dug for mass burial sites, people both good and bad dying, the rich getting richer, the rich telling the poor that everythings going to be okay in their multimillion mansions, the poor getting nothing but a round of applause at 6pm because millionaires and billionaires won’t donate more than $500,000 for aids and funds. the world has always been so fucking broken and countless rich white people keep telling us that its going to be alright while doing nothing. and i’ve been so numb to it. it hadn’t hit. it hadn’t sunk in.
but that request bothered me so much because I knew immediately it was wrong. yes, we as society need a distraction, but a distraction isnt that. it isn’t burying it. it isn’t celebrities singing us songs for “free,” it isn’t making it sexy and cute. this is a real problem, with real lives at stake.
I havent seen my grandparents in weeks, and my family is planning on meeting up for mothers day because they think covid is getting better when its not. the curve is flattened in california, it hasn’t diminished. I hate hearing people say “I dont have the corona” after coughing or sneezing as if they’d fucking know if they did at that point and are making a mockery of those who are sick.
people who survived covid-19 are going to be handicapped for life, there has been such majoor report of lung damage from survivors who once held healthy lungs. society isn’t going to go back to normal any time soon and I think it’s so... monsterous and insensitive for people to try and pretend that it is. find a distraction if you need it, because I’m sure we all do at some point, but this isn’t means to think with our coochies and our hormones. think logically, think realistically. yes, our world will emerge safely from this pandemic, but it’s not something to be ignored.
everyone says that 2020 is the year to be remembered, and it will forever be remembered because of this pandemic. not because the near wwiii, or kobes death, or whatever the fucks happening with north korea. no. it will be this pandemic thats remembered in history. and where will you lie in that?
BUT AHAHAHA BACK TO YOUR MESSAGE THANK YOU IT MEANS SO MUCH AND IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH!!!! YOU STAY AS SAFE AS YOU CAN AS WELL!!!!!
#lyssa doesnt shut up#vent#this is a lot of my thrown up frustrations so lmaooo please dont judge me
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SPN hell binge Episode 1
Yippe kayay Mother Fuckers, Let’s do this! (edited in the morning or grammar)
Should I watch the recap?
Is that cheating?
I mean It’ll set up the season?
But it it cheating?
Like I’m supposed to get context like when you start a comic half way through
I’m gonna watch the recap just cause I know I won’t even understand that
Aw the cw logo, lets you know you’re getting into some shit
oooo decapitations
what how many of them are there
their voices don’t sound like I imagined
Fuck i kinda forgot Jeffery Dean Morgan was in this
You expect me to take these fuckers seriously where their father, the root of their daddy issues, is Denny fucking Duquette
I’m still confused who the fuck is Jack
I think he’s the antichrist
Listen the practical FXs tho
why is half the recap just a zombie fight
is this the beginning of the this episode or like the end of the last?
oh wait it was the last
listen I get continuity but the fucking font the credits are in makes me want to die
Gay angel can commune with the dead that’s nice
Why did they think that flimsy ass thing will hold the door
“He said welcome to the end what does that mean” the network is finally pulling the plug on this shit show
i love the casual discussion of smiting
I relate to dean in that I too have daddy issues and hate sky-daddy
Is Sam the only function one on this show?
Nope he let the zombies into the crypt
oooops the antichrist is awake
oh its a demon not the antichrist
demon with fashion sense
a demon talking about being a demon the way I talk about working at Starbucks
I like how Sam’s like yeah Cas, give your blood to the minimum wage demon who just met that is currently inhabiting the body of some kid we all really cared about
Nothing could go wrong with that
wait what that fucking worked
how did the minimum wage demon fix God’s mess
okay random teens because horror tropes of violence against young “stupid” women who are just enjoying their lives because it’s easier to enjoy the thing when the male gaze and patriarchal culture not only fetishizes violence against women but it makes the horror easier to watch because it’s not as scary when the victim is a vapid and brainless teenage girl, thus making the male viewer feel secure because his ego tells him that he is stronger and smarter than these weak female and therefore would not fall victim to the monster even though that makes no sense in this context when their main demographic is gen-z girls,gay and theys.
also who gave the camera to the guy with hand tremor what was that shaking
When you have to kill a character but the actor still needs to pay the bills
are they literally just gonna spend the whole season tracking down runaway ghosts this is gonna be worse than I thought
Like is that really Jensen Ackles’s voice is doesn’t sound real
ooo spooky car crash
Wait woman in white wasn’t that the fucking pilot i watched that
oh god really all the fucking monsters of the week are back fuck me what have I gotten myself into
Why is this show trying to be a fucking 80s horror movie now we have a poor housewife and her daughter being haunted by ghosts really
and its not just that its the cinematography and the lighting like the whole fucking mise en scen
its a fun aesthteic but goddamn did they really milk 15 season out of this shit? did anyone actually watch after season 12?
motherfucker a killer clown wow
Like I feel like they’re making they’re voices deeper on purpose
I’m sorry what in the living fuck is this dumb ass FBI shirt that Sam is wearing that does not look real you are not fooling anyone honey has this really been your shtick for 15 fucking years and you look like THAT holy fucking hell it genuinely looks like the costume department is barely trying
Mr. Trench coat honestly looks more believable
wait is minimum wage demon a neanderthal
And he;s hitting on one half or the queer baiting wonder twins great
Minimum wage demon: “who was he”
me: “wouldn’t we all like to know”
I mean me. I would like to know thank you minimum wage demon for getting me this info
So he’s they’re kid that’s nice
Wait
So the queer baiting wonder twins had a FUCKING CHILD TOGETHER
holy fuck they weren’t kidding this really is hell
the blood stains are really good like a little bright for being old dried blood but still the practical FX slaps and I’m already starting to think that’s the show’s one redeeming quality
That child is defffffff possessed
This thing is giving me flashbacks to early quarantine when my ex made me watch killer klowns for outer space on Netflix party would not reccomend
I mean I wouldn’t reccomend this either but
Who’s Rowena
Why is the angle that low and harsh on the minimum wage demon being a fan boy like really why
Why is it a dutch too
I just want to talk to the cinematographer and see if he’s okay
Like It went to a stand eye level over the shoulder and then nack to the super harsh low dutch what’s going on
Also Who’s Micheal
Like Micheal the angel?
Is Micheal an angel? idk
why does Cas readily hand out the info that he’s an angel
Sam shot god and honestly fucking mood
is it just Sam or does every one get fucked up if they try to hurt sky-daddy cause that’s kind of a dick move
I feel like I’m supposed to recognize the MILF in white but I haven’t seen the show so IDK
What’s with the whole human sacrifice heart thing like is that standard here
I thought they were going door to door they literally only went to the one house
the killer klown from outer space is back and he has friends
I love how Cas is just like offend and exasperated over being shot
and then just fucking La Llorona makes an appearance
are the spell in fucking Latin on this show
this is why I’m a Witcher stan like at least Sapkowski’s creative an used a different dying language
why does Sam have to stay be hind like in theory they could just sprint
and he picked up the kid he’s like the one functional one here
Sam just told the killer klown from outer space to shut up and honestly same
I have 5 minutes left and it feel like it’s been an eternity
how many times have they been uncomfortably thanked by a little girl on this show cause I feel like the answer is too many
Why is the pie man such a bitch to his husband like way to press against the whole queer baiting wonder twins thing we get it you’re uncomfortable with your character’s repressed bisexuality please maybe chill you made the gay angel sad
even the minimum wage demon gets it
that looks infected
oh yeah dean’s oldest daughter syndrome is back that’s nice
I feel like I see the appeal of this show and how it could be good but then it went to hell
Wait are they actually god now what the fuck
like is this whole season just some Nietzsche bullshit okay
why does dean say just you and me? You also have a gay angel and a minimum wage demon
Final thoughts: I’m going to bed. I’ll do more tomorrow. This really is a dumpster fire. What have I gotten myself into
#Supernatural Hell Binge#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#destiel#supernatural#spn#spn 15x01#oh my god what have I done#winchesters#dean#sam#cas#why'd you make the gay angel cry
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Infectious Love (brian May x reader)
The year is 0 AC (after corona). These are the end times baby. You are looking sexy in the corona trenches that you dug in your backyard. Gotta stay safe!
You were wearing a hazmat suit with the nipples cut out, cowboy boots, and a MAQA hat (make America quarantined again).
You were waiting in the trenches (a/n: this is only kind of sexy, because you could have been in the bogs, but you chose not to you little slut.)
It was time for your weekly appointment. Every day, you visited your local youth pastor, Father Brian Harold May, to get your soul cleansed! You told everyone this was to keep you safe from the coronavirus, but actually you were just hoping he would dick you down. Nothing hotter than a man of the lord!
(a/n: it was Susan’s day of reckoning. We are all bottoms for Susan.)
You walk into the church and immediately nut into the holy water. Oops! Did I do that? Brian harold May was standing on the altar in a black robe. He was wearing nipple clamps in the shape of crosses. ¡How holy of him! He was also wearing a bird mask (ya know, like the sexy plague doctors! This is corona time baby!)
“It’s time to be cleansed,” father May said. He took out a large bottle of communion wine. Truly the last of its kind since the corona came (and since you did too ;))
Immediately, John Deacon crashed through the roof of the church. He plopped to the floor on all fours. He was foaming out the mouth and very clearly naked (a/n: no I will not tell you how big his dick is, because I am not a fucking weirdo.)
You make eye contact with John Deacon. Not long enough for him to do something but long enough for you to nut again. John With Teeth lifted you into the air with his laser beam eyes (just like Susan’s!) and threw you onto the altar with father.
Father May began to levitate ever so slightly above the altar. He threw your little bitch body onto the cross hanging in the front of the church. You were magnetized there. How? I could not say. This is a Christmas miracle.
(a/n: Christmas no longer exists. These are the end times baby! This is a corona miracle. This is Susan’s house. NOT the lord’s.)
John Deacon (with teeth) gathered his TOOLS (a sensible hammer and some rusty nails he found in the alley, and his lean cuisine from dinner last night. He brought the rest for you in case you got hungry during the exorcism.)
Daddy Brian began to chant, “Eleka nahmen nahmen. Ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen. Eleka nahmen nahmen.Ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen.” That was the spell to summon
C O R O N A
However, much to your relief, you did not die of corona. You died by bleeding out on the cross after John nailed you (not in that way you dirty sluts.)
Boy do I love church!
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folklore: Stoned Favorites
It’s been just about 48 hours since Queen Taylor surprised us with TS8 entitled folklore. This album was born out of quarantine and is becoming her highest critically acclaimed album yet. She’s fucking amazing, magical, powerful, etc. I’ve had a few listen throughs to digest it, but I’m still processing all of its beauty. It has quickly become a favorite. Taylor somehow has this power where she drops an album that is lined up perfectly to the events I’m going through in my personal life. Maybe I’m just finding how it relates to me and seeing myself in the album, but that’s the beauty of it anyways. Going through a tough breakup, living through a global pandemic, society is literally never going back to something we knew... It’s all a bit much. And Ms. Swizzle has put words to my deepest feelings, and as always helped me feel and heal.
Here are my favorite parts of the beautiful, whimsical, mystical album that is folklore:
the 1: (this one hurts a little much for me right now...) we never painted by the numbers baby, but we were making it count, you know the greatest loves of all time are over now / in my defense i have none for never leaving well enough alone, but it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one
cardigan: (first of the love triangle, Taylor freaking Swift. this entire song is so beautiful. one of my faves and i cried the first time i heard it) i knew you stepping on the last train, marked me like a bloodstain I, I knew you tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy I, I knew you leaving like a father, running like water I, and when you are young they assume you know nothing, but I’d knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss, I knew you’d haunt all of my what if’s, the smell of smoke would hang around this long, cause I knew everything when I was young
the last great american dynasty: (a sweet little bop. i love this one. Taylor’s voice is so pretty. this guitar is *chefs kiss*) she had a marvelous time ruining everything / [the entire bridge!!!!] there goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen, i had a marvelous time ruining everything
exile: (again, this one hurts right now. a bit relevant.) you’re not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending now? / (pretty much Taylor’s whole verse because freaking ouch - it’s describing my heart space right now) i think i’ve seen this film before, so I’m leaving out the side door / cause you never gave a warning sign - i gave sooo many signs
my tears ricochet: (hearing this song with the framing of it being about B*g M*****e is so sad, heartbreaking, powerful) cause i loved you, i swear i loved you, til my dying day, i didn’t have it in myself to go with grace (and then really the whole entire rest of the song.) / WHEN I’M SCREAMING AT THE SKYYY... YOU HEAR MY STOLEN LULLABIIIIES
mirrorball: (this one feels like 80′s prom or something, i’m in love) *hushh* when no one is around my dear, you’ll find me on my tallest tip toes, spinning in my highest heels love, shining just for youuu
seven: (this one makes me feel like i’m in a grassy meadow, while of course swinging on a tree, with a light summer breeze) sweet tea in the summer, cross your heart won’t tell no other / love you to the moon and to saturn / (STRINGS)
august: (another love triangle song, and it’s my favorite of the moment i think... i think. it also hurts a little bit because of my love life heart space ): ) i remember thinking i had you, but i can see us lost in the memory, august slipped away into a moment in time, cause he was never mine, and i can see us twisted in bed sheets, august sipped away like a bottle of wine, cause you were never mine / (and the fact that there’s beautiful flutes noticeable to me and beautiful saxophone is just super convenient for my feelings as well. also, beautiful fade out, *chefs kiss*)
this is me trying: (this beat going into the song goes hard. guess what - song again hits me like a truck. it’s like what i would want him to say to me. i picture it’s fairly similar to what he’s going through. who knows.) so i got wasted like all my potential, and my words shoot to kill when i’m mad, i have a lot of regrets about that
illicit affairs: (these guitars are like hugging my ears) take the words for what they are, a dwindling mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times (that line in particular hits) / don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this idiotic fool that you made me, you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else, and you know damn well for you i would ruin myself a million little times
invisible string: (again, guitars hugging the ears :). and of course, this song gives me hope for whatever, whoever could be out there for me. her runs are angelic) bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to la / time, mystical time, cutting me open then healing me fine~ / one single thread of gold tied me to you / hell was the journey but it brought me heaven / give me the blues and the purple pink skies, baby it’s cooool with meeeee! (so many Lover references in these lines! I’m in love!)
mad woman: (i’m in love with this song as well. like another version of the Man, aka don’t fuck with me. i’m in love with the entire chorus and her voice and the piano) what do you sing on your drive home, do you see my face in the neighbor’s lawn, does she smile or does she mouth fuck you forever / no one likes a mad woman, you made her like that... / women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you
epiphany: (the production of this song is so angelic and peaceful yet the lyrics are haunting and i get sad every time i listen to it. the parallel between the war and the pandemic is rough and sad. this song is a different kind of hurt) hold your hand through plastic now, doc i think she’s crashing out, and some things you can’t speak about *and then the moment of silence with horns*...
betty: (the last of the triangle. this is the one that is so beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful? maybe not hopeful it’s more the nostalgia factor of it all for me that just because of the breakup stage i’m in right now is what makes it heartbreaking... one day it will be more beautiful and i can smile to it with a longing and gratuitous embrace... also a bop, ALSO reminds me of country Taylor and it’s so *hugs my heart and teen me*) but if i just showed up at your party, would you have me would you want me? would you tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden / i don’t know anything but i know i miss you / the only thing i wanna do is make it up to you / (KEY CHANGE !!!) / kissing in my car again, stopped at a streetlight you know i miss you
peace: (another favorite!!!! and apparently the first take she did of this song IS THE ONE THAT’S ON THE ALBUM. artist.) the devils in the details, but you got a friend in me, would it be enough if i could never give you peace, your integrity makes me seem small, you paint dreamscapes on the wall, i talk shit with my friends, it’s like i’m wasting your honor *piannooooo* / and you know that i’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child...
hoax: (a hauntingly beautiful one, a favorite, love that it’s the closer. it HURTS me right now but i’ll take it. it’s a beautiful song and it’s helping the heal. can’t wait to hear the lakes on the deluxe! - also i just so happen to be re-reading the twilight series right now and it’s the exact vibes i get from this song - the level of love, the cliff sides, the sleepless nights, the piano, eclipsed sun) stood on the cliff side screaming give me a reason, your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in.... don’t want no other shade of blue but you, no other sadness in the world would do.
Taylor announced it and I woke up to the news. I spent the whole day obsessed with the thought of the album and the fact that she literally surprise dropped and shook the whole swiftie kingdom as well as it’s surrounding communities. I had no idea what to expect with it but I said it would be my new favorite Taylor album, i just had a feeling. And I think that this album proved that statement was true. This side of Taylor is the storytelling side I absolutely fell in love with. Her power and creativity and pen are just top tier and she’s the freaking artist of my lifetime. This album will be helping me heal, just as rep did, just as 1989 did, just as Speak Now, Fearless did. I love you Taylor. Thank you for the beauty that is folklore.
#Taylor Swift#folklore#the 1#cardigan#the last great american dynasty#exile#Bon Iver#my tears ricochet#mirrorball#seven#august#this is me trying#illicit affairs#invisible string#mad woman#epiphany#betty#peace#hoax
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I read This Book and Had Opinions
“Ella is an Edwardian Cinderella with an undead problem...
The flu pandemic of 1918 took millions of souls within a few short weeks. Except it wasn't flu, and death gave them back.”
Yes, I found out about this book several months ago, and decided it was Just the Thing to read in quarantine. A friend asked about it and I ended up live-bitching it out on FB.
I am currently in high dudgeon because a katana has been shoehorned in, and yet apparently everyone just forgot about the existence of cavalry sabers, grenades, and flamethrowers. The sabers, at least, would have been literally lying around all over the place.
I mean, honestly. If you haven’t got the sense to make basic leather gear and dig up some gas masks, or even tie a damn ax head (ALSO lying around in farm country, along with scythes, bill hooks, and other destructive items) onto a pole, you’re not fit to survive anyway.
OR board up or fortify houses against incursion. 9 months of zombies and all you do is LOCK your DOORS? Even the guys who’ve come back from the whack-ass trench and dirt wall warrens?
These people are straight-up too stupid to live.
The fact I’m pricing cordless drills right now is entirely coincidental, I’ve been thinking about one for a while.
“With our skin protected by thick gauze and gloves, we tackled the beehives.”
Oh, well done, those bees are a menace, got to cover up.
”Wasn't this why our boys fought and died in Europe? For freedom and justice?” Well, shit, I’ve taught WWI twice now and never covered that bit.
It’s 1920 and homegirl is rockin’ a straight chemise dress to the ball, because she’s that far ahead of the curve, with no support whatever. Also apparently she is tubular, and can achieve the correct silhouette without foundational assistance.
The very SIGHT of her in The Chemise Dress has an effect on her dad’s brain injury!
SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS BARE KNEES, nobody pulled that until 1926 or 27. That’s not the “cutting edge” of fashion, hon, that’s shitty research.
She expected to dance to ragtime and brought the sweater puppies off-leash?
A jazz band just rolled in and “The beads on my dress spun and slapped,” because FLAPPER FASHION WAITS FOR NO HISTORICAL ACCURACY.
”Never had I danced so fast and free” yeah that’s what happens when you wear no support garments, kiddo.
Fancy ballroom, “In between each set of doors and mounted on the wall were crossed swords, from delicate fencing foils to brutish Scottish claymores. Steel caught the overhead light, and fire ran along razor edges. These were no ornaments, but sharpened blades ready to be used.” NOW someone notices the armory on damn walls?
Boss fight, zombie nest, WHOOMP! Capt. Hero MacHeroface: Ever heard of greek fire? The army’s been trying to make it forever, we have a redneck version.
Oh, fuck me, now Our Brave Heroine and Capt. MacHeroface are doing a cute little sparring as flirting schtick, which, sure, whatever, but there’s no way katana vs saber is something anyone sane wants to see. Also you don’t spar with your business sharps, dumbasses, it nicks the hell out of the edges and then you have to grind that shit out. Especially if you’re dumbass enough to put a “razor” edge on the damn thing, which nicks like a little bitch. You’re not shaving with the thing, you’re cutting through undead vertebrae, FFS. With either a (predominantly) two handed katana, or a cav saber, both of which are explicitly designed to make maximum use of physics to perpetrate skeletal damage. The necessary force will be generated, thank you, they know what they’re doing.
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growing up poor sucked
leaving my city for a college upstate and meeting friends from backgrounds I could never dream of and becoming the poorest person in the room for the rest of my life sucked
seeing every injustice become magnified in this pandemic, injustices that disproportionately affect the same 6% of New Yorkers that I belong to...
sucks
and it took me a long time to want to live, it took me a long time to find the voice to fight the voice in my head that wants to die
but both voices are angry
and if I stay alive, it's out of spite for every human being that created the world we're living in and every human being that profits off of it
I don't wanna keep pretending I'm okay when I'm not, I want it to be known that I am dirt fucking poor and very fucking sick and sad and I have been all my life and I envy everyone who wasn't
and I'm angry because my ancestors were enslaved, slaughtered, or slaughterers, and what I've got left is trauma from lacking the bare minimum of necessities to sustain life
the countless nights without food, with no control over the atmosphere of my living space, without a working stovetop for months, without a working kitchen sink for months more, in an apartment that legally - LEGALLY - is too small for us and was too small for us when we moved in 21 YEARS AGO that's older than some of you fuckers gtfoutta here
I keep hearing all these tips to survive the quarantine that are like... You're allowed to leave your house! Just go for a walk!
except my house has 500 people. who are disproportionately poor, disabled, and under-educated. leaving my house risks 500 lives. so I stay home to protect my family and those that don't know how to protect their own. or don't want to or care to.
I'm tired. I'm scared and I'm sad and I'm trying to hold on to the stubborn desire to beat the bad guys by staying alive while the bad guys brainstorm new ways to watch people like me die so they can raise profits and live as richly as possible while the world ends.
the idea that the final humans dying in trenches will be the ones that caused this, the opulent ones, the bastards that cared only for themselves, to think they'll be the ones dying alone surrounded by gold that's worth nothing, skin melting off their pearl white bones
maybe that's not a good reason to live but it can't be a bad one
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