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this blog will be archived soon and rebooted onto a new blog[same url]

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          ❝I'm not going to lie to you. It's not easy. It's going to be the hardest              thing you ever do and there's going to be a lot of days that you              sit there and think it's not even worth it. It's fucking terrifying. It's              not one of those things that you do your thirty days and suddenly              you never want to touch the stuff again. I struggle every day not              to go back to it. Think oh, what's one sip going to do? But you              know what? One sip leads to a beer, leads to a few shots and              then right back in the same boat as before. But the thing is... you              aren't going to be doing this alone. You've got a lot of people who              care about you, that want you to get better and when it gets hard,              they'll be there to help you out.❞

     The cold hard truth was the only way to do this. Clint knew that. He wasn't going to  paint some fantasy that everything would go back to normal, that she was going to be  her old self again. Truth was that person was gone. He knew that and she needed to  know it. Just the same as she needed to know that the struggle wasn't going to just disappear.

          ❝I know I'm not your dad or really anything to you, but I am              proud that you can admit you need help before this gets worse.              It took me a long time and losing Roxanne to accept it.❞

       ❝ I mean, of course I do, I’m not an idiot. ❞

   Though of course she absolutely hated the idea of being sober. It was almost as if    she hadn’t been sober in years. Wether it was alcohol, cocaine, pot, acid, Tracy    always seemed to find a way to not be sober. And the idea of going back just    seemed like it almost wasn’t an option. But Clint was right, she had to get     clean. Not just for herself but for everyone.             ❝ You’re right, I mean—- Troy has been telling me to go               to rehab, he even has a list of the ones he thinks I should               go to. But I just—- I’m really scared, Clint.❞

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          ❝So you do want to stop?❞

     That was it. That's what he wanted to hear. It wasn't something easy to admit, god did he understand that, but it was the most important part of literally everything. Admitting the problem. He felt like a fucking cliche even thinking that. He leaned forward, staring directly at her. The harsh tone he'd been using suddenly softening.

          ❝Then you get help. It's not easy. It's not going to happen              over night. It's going to be a really long road, but Tracy.             ��You need help. That's what I did. You and everyone else              always ask why I disappear or when I'm going to leave              again, and that's just it. You think I really want to leave all              of you? Cause I don't, but I need to. I got help. You and              Roxanne were both right for a long time. I was a fucking              drunk, an alcoholic. I got help, though. Granted I've fallen              off the wagon at times, but the thing is that I go back. I go              to my meetings. I went to rehab and not one of those             day-spa rehabs. You can go too, you know. Nobody there              will judge you. It's actually kind of nice cause everyone there?              They have their own problems and they're trying to stay sober              too. You can go without it. It might not feel like it. You're gonna              feel like death for awhile and your best friend will be the toilet, but...                                                              You can get clean.❞

       ❝ What do you want Clint? Do you want me to say it? Yes. Yes, I’m             a fucking cocaine addict, I didn’t—- I didn’t think I would get             hooked, I mean, I didn’t think anything of it—- you know me, I             just do things. And like, don’t you think I want to stop? It’s like,             I try to go one day without it and it just—-it fucking sucks. I just             don’t—- I can’t see a way out of this one. I really messed up             this time. ❞

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          ❝No I'm not leaving you alone and like it or not, we're having this              conversation. You need to get off your high horse and take a good,              hard look in the mirror cause this? This isn't you. You want to be              a drug addict? You do realize what happens with that kind of thing,              right? You either die of a fucking over dose, go to jail or worse,              prison and I doubt daddy is going to bail you out this time, or you              piss off the wrong people. Those people? They'll go after you, they'll              go after your family, they'll go after your friends. You have a fucking              problem, Tracy and you need to stop pretending that you're better              than anyone else for once in your life and take responsibility for it.              You want your mom to bury you? Or Wren to ask why her big sister              is no longer around? You want to be the joke on TV? Or someone's              bitch in prison? Cause you're too pretty to be going to prison. Even              a woman's prison. You'd be passed around like that shit you shove              in your nose just because of who you are and who your dad is.❞

        ❝ Wel,l you have a funny way of showing it. ❞     Not that she really cared. She had gotten used to it after all,      she didn’t really expect anything else from Clint. What she     really wasn’t expecting were the words that came after.     She knew he was right, but it seemed almost too late to     back out now. She just didn’t see a way out. A part of her     wished she had never been at that party in Amstardam where     the host was passing around a tray with lines.

              ❝ Just—- leave me alone. I don’t wanna                      talk about this with you. ❞

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          ❝Because I do actually fucking care about you.❞

     Maybe his actions never spoke it. He knew that. He also knew that she probably wouldn't believe him. There was a roll of his eyes as he sank back into the seat, arms crossing over his chest.

          ❝Yeah actually I do and that's exactly what the fuck              I'm doing. What does it matter if I wasn't here? You              know what does matter? That I'm here now and that              I'm actually taking time out of my day and my life to              tell you that I fucking care and that you're being a              fucking idiot. What the hell were you thinking even?              That it was going to be a one time thing? That you              wouldn't get hooked and become some kind of fucking              drug addict? Cause news flash, princess, when you walk              into a room with coke still on your nose, you've got a              fucking problem. What about your mom? Your dad?              Your fucking brother and sister? You think this is a good              thing for them to see? Or how's about all those idiots who              follow your every move? You know there's young girls              who see you and think you're cool. What the hell are they              going to think if Tracy fucking Stark is doing drugs? They'll              think oh it's okay if she does, so I will too. And it's not fucking              okay and I'm not going to just drop it and let you continue to              ruin your life.❞

        ❝ I mean, why would you even give              a shit if I’m an idiot? ❞       She was growing tired of these conversation, she       had already had it with more than three different       people. There was nothing for her to say. All they       wanted was to her that she would stop. But she       couldn’t. A part of her wanted to but another       part of her just wanted to keep right at it.

           ❝ Like, fuck, you think you can just                 come back  out of nowhere, and                 start questioning me? What are                 you gonna do when you get an                 answer? Go into hiding again? ❞

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          ❝Do I look stupid? It's exactly what I think.❞

     The archer straightened up some as he stared in disbelief at the way she went straight for her nose. It wasn't the image he would have ever imagined for Tracy of all people and he couldn't help feeling that bit of disappointment growing in the pit of his stomach.

          ❝Are you a fucking idiot?❞

          The petite blonde’s hand instantly finds its way           to the crease of her nose, it’s almost a reflex at           this point.        

                    ❝ It’s not what you think it is. ❞

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          ❝Your nose candy you've got going on. You've still               got a little in the crease of your nose, by the way.               The least you can do is clean that shit up before               being around people.❞

  ❝ About what? ❞

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          ❝So... something tells me that we               need to have a little talk, Trace.❞

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          "That's exactly the issue. Most of 'em flying            around aren't exactly here for the, ya know,             better good."

   ❝My name’s Hancock, and I’m flying around like Superman because that’s how I get around. You ever see people fly before? ‘cause I see it all the time nowadays.❞

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          "As long as it's not someone we both know, you'd            be the perfect wing-man. Let's face it all you've got            to do is say hi, I'm Captain America and bam. There            go the panties. And if you just happen to slide in            that I'm on your team? Bam. Perfect wing-man."

        “Luck is luck. Sometimes it’s good,  sometimes          it’s bad. Honestly, if you’re looking for a wing-          man, I’d be horrible at it. Not quite sure how to          speak to women as it is.”

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     he's just pretending to be asleep.

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I loved her more than anything.

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