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draft of start of fic of bly manor (jamie's death)

Jamie had grown old, haggard even, gone was her smooth skin and curling brown hair, now in the place of the young woman she had stood what Jamie would call “somebody’s gran”. Not that she had grandkids, lord knows she didn’t want any of her own, if she couldn’t have them with Dani, well, then she just wouldn’t have them at all. She did have Flora though, and Flora’s kids, and they gave her the last bit of love to keep going. Her youth had long since left her, her skin no longer stuck to her bones and hung from them in sacks, her hair had turned gray and brittle, her hands thin and veiny, she had taken on a shocking pale, it was as if you could see right through her, bones, muscles and all. She had lived through the stages from taking care of others, to others taking care of her, she often chuckled at it, born dependent and die dependent only a brief period of responsibility sandwiched between the two, and then, inevitably, death. It’s a nice place to die, she had thought, when she first laid eyes on the house, and it was, a quiet neighborhood, it had a porch and a lawn, a nice back yard and flowerbeds, exactly the kind of place were one could drift off from life, in a rocking chair at dawn, listening to the song of the morning birds. 

Of course, the sight would be well displayed from the chair’s position on the front porch, but at least the neighborhood would know for sure she was gone, she had lived there so long, the children had begun to think she would never die. They called her mother gothel, because of her blooming garden, and her remarkable sturdiness even though it appeared as if she could be knocked over by a light breeze. This was false, as marked by the concussion she administered to an unfortunate cat burglar who had crawled through her window last may, thinking it was an easy mark. It was not. but Jamie took extra care to lock her windows now. It was rumored she buried him under the garden to use him as fertilizer for her plants, which were also magical, of course, they were what gave her her extraordinary strength, or at least according to Steven Anders, but he was nine, which made his story unlikely. Her accent didn’t help, out in rural Georgia, her Northern lilt only served as proof to the young'uns that she possessed otherworldly abilities. Every so often a child would have the courage to approach her front porch, and once in a blue moon, they even had the bravery to ring the bell, and every time they asked the same thing “are you a witch?” and every time she would reply, with an earnesty more genuine then they could know “I wish”. It was only the Wingrave children who knew her for who she was, simply a batty old lady, a kind and broken soul, with an affinity for cursing, moonflowers, and the occasional chocolate chip cookie.

 It started when Flora had her first, Henry, it was as if Jamie always knew what to do, Flora didn’t know how she did it, Jamie had never had any kids of her own, but the older woman seemed to always know when it was a diaper that needed changing or a burp that needed burping, or any of the other twenty thing a baby asks for in a wail. The Wingraves were a handsome couple, the pillars of the community, Flora and Scott were both active members of the PTA and from the moment each child was born they doted on them with more love then one thought was possible, the other parents shook their head in awe  at their “wonder parenting” but really it was their mysterious and somewhat grouchy neighbor who helped carry the burden of parenthood and raise their three children. They joked Jamie was why they moved there, they moved to start a family and God knew it would be impossible without her. Of course they were a bit taken aback running into the stranger from the funeral, but as they got to know the woman better, they realized that incident was simply just the kind of thing Jamie would do.

So there, in Eston Georgia, at 9:15 in the morning, Jamie drifted off for the last. Thankfully not on the front porch, she died where she lived, in the green house, sat in her favorite chair, at her favorite table. It was Scott who found her, slumped over the moonflower she had been tending to.  He had come round to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner. He didn’t even have to tell his wife what had happened, it was as if she had read his mind as soon as he stepped through the door. Flora took care of all the arraignments, the funeral, the reception, the headstone, and she did it all with the utmost care. It made sense, they were the last family they knew she had. It was a small funeral but it seemed as if the whole town came, the number of strangers making the crowd seem large and foreboding, they came to make sure, see the last resting place of the famed mother gothel, because they thought she would never die. Only the Wingraves, standing in the front row were there to mourn Jamie, and perhaps it was better that way, a special pain for them to remember, the woman across the street who they both knew and didn’t at all. 

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The haunting of bly manor is depressing me the fuck out

The ending of haunting of bly manor always sends me into a depressive episode, and i think its because, dani and jamie were just such good people, and they were so happy together and they deserved that happiness, and then that happiness was taken from them as if it never happened. Which is also why i think the show physically ending and the cast going their separate ways is also so hard for me, because it feels as if they are being forgotten, even though they deserve that happiness, even just the memory of it. And it is so sad to me that someone so good and deserving, who finally gets what they deserve, just to have it taken from her and have her live an ordinary life, not even an ordinary life, a life without love or any upshot and that sucks because they definetly didnt deserve and i deserve more then them so what the fuck.

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Saw this while listening to the same song 14 times

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Shout out to the NYPD who yelled at me for skipping the fare and did nothing when my 12 year old sister got robbed in the station

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I see no point to living which usually doesn't bother me but it's hitting different rn

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Low key a little suicidal rn

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Kinda just need to vent. My home life is kind of shit. My parents blow up and you can never tell when they will but it always feels like it's your fault. I never feel safe with them. Today CPS came for a visit, my ceiling has a hole in it which My parents haven't fixed in the past 2.5 years. We are upper middle class and can afford it they just don't have time. Our house is old and it is likely there is both asbestos and lead in the ceiling and it is now in my room. I've lived there for the past 2.5 years and until last month there has been no effort to move me or fix the hole despite them knowing the dangers. Everytime I ask them about they yell at me and essentially call me ungrateful. They are very busy and work 10+ hour work days but this is important to my health, it is not my fault, and I've asked very respectfully understandingly and politely. In the past 2.5 years I have only made two step forward, all within the last month. I've been moved to a different room and my parents now tell me about the efforts they are making to fix the hole (which they only started in genuine a month ago). Everything in our house is broken and they make no effort to fix it. They blame it on us for being careless and clumsy, but it is a house with 2 teenagers and a tween. All depressed and 2 with diagnosed adhd. They scream at us if we forget somethings as simplenas doing the dishes, they've called us names, they cuss us out, they bring in our hopes dreams and passions, things we told them when things were in a good place and turn them against us to use them as a put down. It's been like this for as long as I can remember but it's gotten worse in recent years as they have gotten more stressed. They don't realize what they are doing and I genuinely don't think they believe anything is wrong. But it's gotten to the point that my little sister has noticed. When they found out about CPS they weren't angry but they were stressed and I think they handled it all wrong. They told us we couldn't tell anyone about it, which sucks because the whole ordeal was incredibly stressful, though we knew we probably wouldn't be taken we still couldn't count on it and we needed the support from our friends (shout out to my bsf who I told anyway they're the only reason this is only a tiny bit less shit). They also told us not to be dramatic while talking to the social worker, like they knew something was wrong but thought it was our fault which fuckings sucks. They also told us that we needed to clean up so they didn't look like neglectful parents. Which is complete bullshit. Bc yeah they look like neglectful parents, they are neglectful parents, this is what neglectful parenting looks like. I had my CPS interview today (I went out to see a movie so I had missed the social worker) the entire way back home I was stressing and deciding whether or not to lie to them. On one hand there was that I love my siblings and CPS fucking sucks and I don't trust the government, but lying feels like giving my parents a pass for all the shit they do, it feels like saying their shitty treatment of me and my siblings is okay, because I'm "choosing it". I don't know what I was going to do, but I think lying would've been the bigger thing to do, not letting my petty rage get in the way or what not. But when I called the social worker she didn't ask me any questions, she just wanted to tick a box, she just needed to see my face. And in some ways I think that's worse, bc she didn't give a shit, she was supposed to and she didn't, and I twisted myself into knots just for her to do the bare minimum. Now I just feel like I'm not worth it and I'm making it all up. That is not that bad and I'm being dramatic. That I don't deserve that help. And honestly I don't know how true that is. But I just feel like shit

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Fuck allergies, love persists bitch.

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It's not, we good

Someone fucking called CPS and I'm really scared that it's my fault

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Someone fucking called CPS and I'm really scared that it's my fault

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I'm gay but I didn't want my family to talk about it or make a big deal out of it but I did want them to know. So I came out to them individually and stressed the importance of not telling anyone else. It's been months, and I am thriving.

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I JUST GOT A BINDER

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I unironically have a pipe in my bag rn

what's in your pocket? there's definitely rocks in mine

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It's gayer

I think I like GenV better than The Boys idk what it is

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I thought the cat was a wig

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Yes, and Emma having no qualms whatsoever with asking very personal questions makes them bond fast

I really want Jordan and Emma to be best friends that's a duo i need in my life