#Please read at your own risk

[pens-and-gems]

The first part to my new original story “The Escape” is up right now on Wattpad!

Hello to all my lovely bookworms and followers, I’m here to announce that the first chapter to my new original story “The Escape” is now posted on my Wattpad! 

Link is right here: https://www.wattpad.com/1305775729-the-escape-chapter-1-it-ends-now

It will also be posted on my DeviantART this Thursday, so be on the lookout for that. 

DISCLAIMER:

THE CONTENT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ/VIEW DISCUSSES DOMESTIC A*USE! I REPEAT, DISCUSSES DOMESTIC A*USE! I ALSO WANNA MAKE THE DISCLAIMER THAT, MYSELF, HAVE NEVER EXPERIENCE DV AS A WHOLE AND NEVER BEEN A VICTIM OF SUCH TOPIC! I DO APOLOGIZE IF I GOT ANY MISINFORMATION WRONG IN THE FIRST CHAPTER! IF YOU OR ANYONE HAS BEEN A VICTIM OF DV! PLEASE DM ME ON WATTPAD, COMMENT ON MY STORY, OR EVEN SUBMIT AN ASK TO MY INBOX IF YOU HAVE ANY ADVICE ON WHAT TO DO TO IMPROVE IN THE NEXT CHAPTERS! PLEASE AND THANK YOU!

Don’t forget to like, comment, and fave! Reblogs are always acceptable, and don’t forget, I have new stories and chapters as well as series coming out ASAP! Link is right here for more info!

Have a fantastic Hump Day everyone!

[cadrenebula]

The Rage Inside

((Will contain blood and some pretty dark stuff. A bit of torture and abuse. So please read at your own risk. This is before Alex 'mellowed with age'? XD Okay mellowed a little with marriage. He's made a lot of progress since this was written. This one of the entries I'm moving here from my side blog. Original post was 4 yrs ago June 6th 2017.))

The rage boiled in his blood. Seeing her like that had started the howling inside. Anger at the man she had chosen to love and get hurt by. This was a mess. His emotions were a fucked up mess. All over a girl. Over someone who understood him on a level few could.

Hands clenched and released multiple times. Needed pain and blood. Needed to make something hurt. Yet he had nothing. Nothing to release the beast that roared for a throat to tear open. A soft belly to gut.

The thud of flesh meeting stone. A low dangerous snarl. The sound repeated as Alex beat his fist into the wall until his knuckles bled. He couldn’t get the satisfaction of beating the other man’s face. Couldn’t rip into him because he knew what it would do to her. The pain of his bloodied knuckles helped take the edge off the rage howling through him. Yet it wasn’t really enough.

Halone have mercy on him... He’d let himself care about her to the point she had him such an emotional mess. But he couldn’t very well leave her like that. The temptations of that other side of her... Seven hells he wanted to give in so badly but that wasn’t the woman he had fallen for. He had been doing his best to respect her engagement. It would have only hurt her worse to let that dark side of her lure him to the bedroom.

So instead he snarled and pinned her down on that couch. Made her listen to him. Appealed to the better side of her. The woman who saved his life and gave a shit about someone as worthless as him. He could still recall the bite of those nails on his arms as she resisted.

Two broken monsters who clung to each other. Monsters created by heartless people who sold them to the cruel people who would mold and break them. Until they were nearly as heartless. Sharpening claws and fangs. Stoking inner fires to the point of shaping those broken children into dangerous beasts who would prowl the shadows and enjoy letting the blood of others soak their skin.

Ever since her though... He’d been walking a finer line. Something about her made the beast easier to deal with yet more terrible at the same time. Like now...

Alex prowled off, blood dripping from his fingers as it ran from his busted knuckles. Went hunting. Except not for people. Not yet. He was too unstable to hunt people. Yet he needed to stab something. Anything.

It was hours later that he returned to the place he shared with Aeri and Cotoka. Quietly he checked in on the Au Ra girl as he had promised. Sleeping soundly it looked like. Silently he prowled to his own part of the place, cleaning the blood and wounds. Finally Alex laid down on his bed in only his trousers. He stared up at the ceiling for a long time before finally drifting off to sleep.

If it could be called sleep. Nightmares that had not assaulted him in ages decided to torment him tonight. Most likely due to his current turbulent emotions. He thrashed slightly at the sound of that whip in his head. Kiss of a blade to the soft skin on his back. Sneering face of that Ishgardian highborn leering at him in the darkness of this nightmare.

Shaking hands ran through his hair after he had bolted to sitting upright in a cold sweat. He looked over in the direction of Cotoka’s sleeping quarter. No sign of movement so he hadn’t disturbed her. Good. Silently he grabbed his gear and weapons. Sleep was no longer an option.

Perhaps his old allies in the Shroud would have something to ease the beast inside tonight.

He stalked into the sleepy bandit camp. Hadn’t been here in ages. Not since the days he spent hiding after the job that made him betray Lancefer. His old buddy and leader of this ragtag bunch was of course near the center where the fire still burned.

A brief exchange of words between them. His old friend noticing the hollow and primal look to Alex’s crimson gaze. A curt nod before leading the duskwight towards where they kept their prisoners.

“Traitor. Do as you wish. Just try to keep things down. Most of the camp is asleep.” The man said before leaving Alex alone with a wide-eyed man.

A wicked grin began to form on Alex’s lips as he looked on. The trembling man only enticing the beast within. Fear was good. It was as if the man looking upon his doom could see the monster that was about to feast.

Screams were muffled but it was clear something unpleasant was occurring in that prison cave. No one dared go anywhere near it. There was an silence to the camp now though. A fear of drawing the ire of the beast that was playing with it’s prey within that cave.

Alex’s eyes were hollow as he looked down at the bloody mess that was once a person. The screams were silent now. Dead as the man before him. Blood coated his hands and parts of his clothes. A splash of crimson across one cheek. The kill had been slow and methodical. Meant to bring about the most pain possible in the hours he spent working.

Yet the rage was quieter now. The beast sated for the time being. He half stumbled out of the cave, leaning against the wall at the exit. His old comrade waiting feet beyond.

“Come.” It was not a question. A simple command as he lead Alex towards his own tent. Alex plopped down to sit on the dirt floor as his old ally rooted through a trunk. Tossing Alex clean clothes and a cloth before fetching a bowl of water. Finally a strong bottle of whiskey. “Stay as long as you need.”

It was about as friendly as it ever was. There was a sort of unspoken connection between them. Not exactly true friendship but an understanding. An acceptance. People who didn’t fit into the world with those considered normal.

The man left Alex alone in his tent. Finally bloody fingers took that cloth and began to make an effort to clean up. It wasn’t in any way a perfect job. Alex didn’t care. Inner rage was quenched at least for now. Yet he still felt unsettled. So he prowled the woods in the hours after dawn and into the afternoon.

It was hours later that he heard Aeri’s voice over the linkpearl. Asking him to join her for drinks.

[frownyalfred]

gently grabs you by the chin hey. if an author selects “chose not to use archive warnings” on a fic, they’re allowed. even if you don’t like it or disagree.

[hanaamara]

As someone in their early twenties, and is currently dealing with pre-carpel tunnel, please take care of your forearms and wrists. They are important.

Use a brace if you can’t keep them straight. Can’t buy a brace, get an elastic (ACE is a brand people default to in lots of places) bandage. Cant buy a bandage, get a compression brace. Can’t buy that, do some light stretches and be mindful of how you use your wrists.

Chronic pain is no joke. Sometimes, it can’t be avoided. But, in the case of this specifically, it can be.

(Disclaimer: I am in no way a medical professional. I’m just someone who has experience with this type of thing. [And currently in a wrist brace.])

P.S. I use a copper wrist compression brace a lot. And have only recently gotten a medical brace. Medical braces are usually fine to wear for long periods of time. Compression braces aren’t. They can cause more harm than good like that.

[42spideys]

— good dog

you don’t need to use your brain, you don’t need to do anything but listen to the only person that matters. leon s. kennedy.

warnings: m.reader, dead dove, yandere! leon, dark content, reader literally doesn’t know how to think without leon helping, abuse, mentions of scars, leon is loving towards reader, mentions of whipping, i might continue this later on but im not sure

enjoy (ㅅ´ ˘ `) !!

leon has had you to himself for months now and he’s so happy about it, he loves having you around. he’s so proud about how well you have adapted to your new home, he hated hurting you like that but you just kept fighting him….so he had to teach you how to be good.

“l-leon! let me go! why are you doing this!?” you screamed, thrashing around in your binding on the cold floor of leon’s basement. you couldn’t read leon’s face at all and it scared you, he stole you from your own home and kept you in his basement. why? what did you do wrong? was he mad? did he hate you? was he going to kill you? these thoughts brought you to tears, you started sobbing profusely while begging leon to let you go.

“shh shh….don’t cry angel. if you keep fighting me i’ll have to hurt you, i don’t want to hurt you baby.” his voice had a dark sense of sympathy, he took you into arms and started rocking back and forth. you thought this was a great attempt to escaped, the only thing that he bothered to tie were your arms. you nuzzled his arm and peppered it with light kisses, he smiled softly thinking you have finally listened to him. he felt a sharp pain in his arm and let out a scream, you bit him. you bit him? are you fucking crazy?

you desperately tried to run up the stairs screaming, trying to get anyone’s attention, you were didn’t know how it happened. your head stung, it burned, your vision was blurry. you saw leon standing above you and his stare was dark, he was breathing heavily in dangerous excitement. he crouched down and grabbed you by your hair, he pulled you close to his face and spat on you.

“bad dog. are you that fucking stupid?” you whined at his words, they were so cruel. you shouldn’t want him to praise you, you need to leave, you need to escape. you tried to pull away from him which was meat with a harsh smack to the face, you cried out in pain. “m’sorry! please no more…i-i promise i-i’ll listen i’m sorry..” you cried trying to convince him you were serious, you didn’t want to be hit anymore. leon looked at you for a moment before smiling, the smile made you feel safe for a moment…. he leaned towards your ears.

“fucking liar. i’ll beat it into your head that you are just a fucking dog, and bad dogs get punished.”

-

now look at you, you’re being such a good dog for leon! you have graduated from basement to doggy bed right next to leon, instead of not eating at all you get delicious food and snacks in your pretty dog bowl, no more hitting, no more whipping you until you bleed, no more choking till you pass out. you’re a good dog now! so you get spoiled all the time, like a good dog.

“puppy, come here please.” he hears the quick jingle of your pretty leash and collar coming towards him, it makes him smile to himself. you crawl to him with a dazed look in your eyes, ever since you the first couple of weeks of him teaching you to be a good dog you now don’t know how to function without him. you nuzzled his leg im admiration, you melted into him when he started to rub your head.

leon was the only thing that you could think of, leon was your perfect owner! he gave you everything now, belly rubs, kisses, good scratches, cuddles, everything. you just had to be good for him, that’s was it, that was all. if you were a good boy you god a happy leon, if you were a bad boy you had to stay in the basement for a month.

“such a good puppy, you’re all mine yeah?” you let out a soft noise of approval “you only think of me, right pup?” you let out another noise of approval “should i kiss you? do you think that you deserve it, pup?” you say upright and nodded frantically while letting out pathetic whimpers, he smiled at your reaction and leaned down but stopped right before your face.

“i love you, pup.”

[mochiwrites]

psssst, I’ve got a secret down in the tags

[moonlightblueandicegrey]

Unforgettable past part 2

Here's part one:

!!!!Warnings!!!!

Mentions of emotional and physical abuse, self harm, sexual harassment, panic attacks, traumatic moments, self hate thoughts, thoughts of suicide, anger, bad language and curse words, smoking, heavy drinking... Tell me if i forgot anything.

I warned you. The responsibility is now yours.

Summary: Jay and Kai are best friends and they haven't realise that the are actually in love with each other. Jay had a really hard time in Nadakhan's ship and although it never happened after his last wish, for him it was real. It happened. He can't forget it or get through it. It affects his everyday life and everyone notices, especially Kai. So he asks Nya (Jay's girlfriend) but the best option is to actually talk with his friend.

• The unforgettable past can be considered a second chapter for this:

Although it's not mentioned but both of them are in my script so... Yeah.

It's been three whole months since Jay made his last wish. You think he got better? You think he forgot? You think it didn't affect him just because of that wish? You are wrong. You are so wrong... Jay remembers everything. Every. Single. Thing. And it slowly eats him, it slowly destroys for good whatever left from his soul, his heart, his honour, his sanity... If there's anything left from those... He isn't sure. He doesn't even know if he is alive anymore. What is this state? He feels nothing and everything. He has never been so confused before. No hope is left for him. That's what he repeats to himself every night when everyone falls asleep and he is crying his heart out. Alone.

"A little weak,

Jay is strong. He stronger than he looks. In some people's eyes he is an annoying boy. A small, fragile, dump boy, the weakest ninja of them all. The one who didn't actually deserved to be a ninja at all. The anxious one who was panicking even with the smallest things.

pathetic,

crybaby...

That's all you've got?! I expect more... You really disappoint me little canary..."

No matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings, to bottle up all his emotions, he failed. Like always, he failed once again. He was never good enough... He was just a failure... That little "adventure" made him become his own greatest enemy. But what else could he do? What was the point of believing in himself when no one believed in him? What was the point of living when he was only annoying, unwanted... A burden.

Even for his own parents who eventually left him. He was unwanted to them.

Even for his own family who raised him when it wasn't their responsibility to do it. He was a burden to them.

Even for his girlfriend who was spending all day alone in her room. Could he blame her though? No, he couldn't. It was all his fault.

Even for his own friends who were done with him and his strange behaviour those three months. He was annoying to them.

He felt guilty. He felt deeply hurt every single time someone was talking to him and he couldn't pay attention. Every time they told him to help clean the Bounty and he had to find excuses to avoid it. Every time they asked him "what's wrong?" and he simply said "I'm fine". "I'm fine"... Ha! From all the lies he said that was his favourite. "I'm fine". Bullshit! He wasn't. But Jay was proud. Too proud to admit it. Too proud to seek help. Too hopeless to try for something better. He even avoided Master Wu's questions and ignored his wise advice. He was a coward! A liar! He didn't even deserve comfort. He was a terrible person and a bad friend. He should be ashamed.

No matter how hard he tried to hide his pain, he failed. And eventually everyone noticed that Jay wasn't himself. They didn't know why though. Obviously. They didn't remember a thing. Only Nya remembered but she didn't knew exactly what he's been through. Oh, how bad he wanted his memory to be deleted too... But the universe didn't pity him. So he was left in that world to suffer alone until his death. A death no one would remember... Why would they? He wasn't someone important anyway.

But his heart was broken. When he and Kai decided to start smoking after Zane "died" to defeat Overlord, they made a deal. But Jay broke that deal and instead of a very small amount of cigarettes, he was smoking all day. Every day. He ignored everyone's warnings. They could clearly see him change... The master of lighting lost himself eh?

If they only knew...

............................................................................

Kai couldn't stand watching his best friend sinking deeper into that mud. He wanted to help him get to the right path again... But how could he help someone if he didn't even knew the problem? He was the first one to notice his sister's and friend's changes. He wanted to help both. With his sister it was easier. But with Jay? Kai desperately wanted to know what happened while Jay was captured in that ship. He knew Jay wouldn't open his mouth no matter what though. He could be stubborn af sometimes.

Nya actually talked to him. She told him all the things she knew and all the things she'd been through. Kai was worthy of her trust. He believed her of course. And he was shocked, sad... Angry. He should have remembered all this. He should be the one to suffer instead his loved ones... No! He managed to get rid of those thoughts. He had to support his sis and his buddy, that was his first priority. After giving all the comfort he could to Nya, he left her rest and finally get some sleep after many sleepless nights. Was it too late for him to find Jay? Nah... Jay was a night owl. He would probably be awake, especially those days. But was this the right time for that talk?

Was Kai himself ready to hear Jay's pov and deal with it?

............................................................................

It was late... Morning was coming soon. Every morning since Nadakhan was just "another day i sadly woke up instead of dying" according to Jay. Another day to suffer. Oh, how badly he wanted to just fall off of the Bounty's deck... Or take a dagger and... Just a few more pills... All these thoughts were crossing Jay's mind as he was sitting in Bounty's deck, smoking and staring at the night sky. Or the void, he didn't know. They looked the same to him now.

Kai quietly left Nya's room and slowly closed the door behind him. He decided to not bother Jay for now. Yet, he had a strong feeling that Jay needed him right now. It might was his worry for his friend but what if his instinct was right? Nah... He definitely just needed some fresh air himself. The last thing he expected to see in such a cold night was the lightning master standing alone in the deck, smoking again, and just staring... Somewhere far away from this world.

His instinct was indeed right. Now, it was the right time. He shouldn't wait anymore. Kai approached Jay. He was standing so close to him, yet Jay didn't even notice him until he spoke.

Kai: Jay? We need to talk.

Jay: Kai! Hey. What is it bud?

Kai: Come on, stop acting. It's been three months man. Three fucking months! And you didn't say a word! Why?

Jay: A word about what? I don't understand you.

Kai: ... I talked to Nya. She told me what happened.

Jay: You mean- What exactly do you know?

Kai: Definitely not enough. I want to hear your side of the story.

Jay: No.

Kai: Come on... I want to help you. I want-

Jay: You can't help me Kai. It's over now, isn't it? I made the last wish. None of it actually happened, I'll get over it.

Kai: You don't seem like getting over it. Jay, please. What happened while you were captured in Nadakhan's ship? I've never see you like this before... You changed... I barely recognise you anymore!

Jay: I am the same Jay you knew! Don't worry about me, I'm fine.

Kai: Stop lying! And stop this (takes Jay's cigarette and burns it to dust). We made a deal!

Jay: (Looks directly on Kai's eyes giving him a death stare) ...Go get some sleep and leave me alone.

Kai: Look, as much as i don't want to push you i must do it. I can't just stay back and watch you destroy yourself anymore!

Jay: Why do you even care?!

Kai: Wha- What type of question is this?! You are my best friend!

Jay: Then give me some space! End this conversation and get some sleep. Leave me alone already! (Turns his back to Kai)

Kai: What about stop running away from your problems just for once in your life and talk to me instead? Even if I can't help, i might make you feel better by listening to you. Give me a chance, damn it!

And that was it. After so much time, the man with the mask, finally... Broke. Jay started crying and he would have fall on his knees if Kai wasn't there to catch him. Jay tried to push him back, but he didn't want to hurt his friend, not that he had the strength to do it anyway. His attempt to push Kai was too weak and obviously that wasn't enough for the fire master to loose his tight grip. In the end, Jay hugged Kai back and buried his head on his chest. Kai, who usually hates physical touch, couldn't care less about it. His friend needed him.

Jay's legs were shaking, his heartbeat became faster and louder, he couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream but he held back or else he would have to explain everything to everyone. Kai kept him close, hugging him tightly and trying to comfort him and help him relax. None of them noticed how long they stayed like this. None of them cared. Eventually, Jay controlled his breath and he managed to speak. But when he started speaking... He started to say things Kai didn't expect to hear. Or he didn't want to expect them.

............................................................................

Part 3 will come soon i hope.

[araneitela]

WHICH SYMBOLIC FRUIT ARE YOU?

Cherry. (Man, this is going to need some tag rambling; because while it's what I suspected and it's very fitting in many ways, I need to address one element).

In popular culture, cherries have come to represent sensuality, sex, and seduction. In the cult classic, Twin Peaks, Audrey Horne expresses her sexual expertise by tying a cherry stem with her tongue. "Cherry" is also used to refer to the concept of virginity: why? I don't know to be honest, but here we are. Much like the cherry, you're a sensual person who enjoys all the creature comforts the world offers. You enjoy delicious food, dynamic relationships, passionate lovemaking and stimulating conversation; however, you may also come across a touch vapid or shallow, due to your quickly fading attention when something has served its usefulness to you. To quote some man on tinder: "you're here for a good time, not a long time". You can come across, at times, slightly tart, carrying a bit of a bite to you that not everyone can handle. That’s okay: you’re an acquired taste!

Tagged: @basbousah (Thank you 🩷) Tagging: I don't tend to tag for quizzes easily but this one was actually fun, so let's harass. @immobiliter (how about Furina?) @kushtibokt @genus83 @genius81 @spiderwarden @delusionaid (Wriothesley, or Zhongli— porque no los dos? 🤭) @apocryphis (Topaz) @aventvrina @resolutepath (Elio) @daybreakrising (Blade) @astrxlfinale @kahakera @cygnor @chasersglow @scrtilegii (Jing Yuan)... and anyone else who'd like to do it, say I tagged you because I'd love to see the results!

[consult-sherlockholmes]

Hi, hope you’re all alright.

Any interesting cases right now?

If not, you got any idea/ advice on how to make money during high school?

No cases. No anything. Except boredom. Does that sound alright to you?

Concerning your other question, although when did I become a consulting youth counselor, a possibility could be tutoring other students in subjects you are good at. I think many schools have such programs, but there are also online tutoring platforms. If you have some sort of creative hobby you could also do art commissions online. But with everything you have to inform yourself first and be cautious.

And now actually give me a case instead of questions you could have googled.

[stinkrascal]

girl i love hearing about your characters !! tell me more abt the embassy members, where r they from?? interests? fun facts !! i love it all

helloooooooo 🥀 i will talk about nadia and helena bc they're my favorites!

nadia has been the headmaster of forgotten hollow for about a century now, one of the longest running leaders in history. they are the oldest member of the embassy, well over 900 years old, though nobody seems to know where she originated or if she has always been so, not even vladislaus. her coven doesn't question her, however, and despite its sheer size there seems to be unprecedented peace among her spawn. as the headmaster, they've sired many spawn. that doesn't mean she hasn't had to kill to assert her place; most know better than to test her, but some need reminding. of course, she's not just the headmaster! a leader needs many hobbies to keep a robust mind. in nadia's spare time she enjoys painting, you can see one of her paintings on the 12th picture in this post here. she's also a musician who's taught herself to play nearly every instrument. she's the one who taught vladislaus to play the piano, and on occasion you can still find her playing a ballad with helena, though they have been noticeably more distant since vladislaus's turning some 200 years ago. for some unknown reason, nadia's powers have begun waning, and with it, their ability to cast the protective barriers shrouding forgotten hollow. she hasn't lost all hope, though. with helena's help, nadia has been able to facilitate peace among the vampires and the mages for decades; she's spent years working closely with them for a cure to her sudden ailment.

helena is the second youngest embassy member, only about 50 years older than vladislaus, who is the youngest and the newest member of forgotten hollow's embassy. she is a half-vampire, half-mage, born to a vampire father and a witch mother who have both long since perished. she keeps this fact a secret; only a select few know of her mage blood, among them being nadia and the archmage in glimmerbrook known as L faba. though she used to be headmaster nadia's right hand, it seems she's fallen out of favor since straud's arrival. she tries not to let that bother her, though; she's an exceptional vampire, save for those few-and-far between instances where the smell and sight of blood repulses her. those who know her well might insist it is her mage blood warring against her vampiric nature, but, really, helena insists it's a sensory issue more than anything else. don't let her magical nature fool you, though; helena is an accomplished vampire in her own right with a decent coven of about a dozen spawnlings of her own. it is even said that these vampires are especially magically adept, capable of producing magic most vampires cannot. though her mentoring duties keep her preoccupied, she enjoys sitting in nature, foraging, and brewing potions in her spare time, what little of it she has left.

[okayigetitifuckedup]

Hey, so I don’t want to beg or anything but I just published a chapter of my fanfiction that I was super excited to get out there, and I have been going through a really hard time right now, so I figure there’s no harm in asking if you’re willing to read it and maybe even comment? I would love it if you checked it out. :) it is a Batman fanfiction, and is the first story in a small series I am planning that will be my take on Batman’s universe. It takes place after the dark Knight but the tone is extremely different. If you’re unsure about checking out such a long story, Unexpected Developments is 60k words now, then I have a shorter story on the page, only around 5k words total, fair warning however, it takes place in the distant future of UD. Also please keep in mind this is a GIANT REIMAGINING of this universe, I am taking elements from the pieces I like and put thing things back together the way I think looks best. Regardless, thank you for reading this far haha.

[imabillyami]

8 years ago on this day...

8 years ago on this day my dad died. He was 45. It pretty much happened out of nowhere. 

As in, we didn’t expect it to happen when it did and the way it did. 

He was an addict - alcohol, narcotics, plentiful drugs, the whole palate, you name it.

He had already had a massive stomach tumor, a perforated stomach & had already died due to that on the table at age 35. The doctors who brought him back said it was a sheer miracle. 

He got a second lease at life, but he didn’t use it. He never stopped drinking or searching the high of one more hit, even though the doctors told him it would kill him.

Still, his death happened out of nowhere for us. And it was quite tragic.  Cause in the end it the doctors were right. 

Don’t get me wrong, I hated my dad, I really did. He ruined my entire childhood, he ruined my mother, he ruined a good portion of my life.

I don’t remember many days as a kid where one of us didn’t end up beaten into a pulp. He started when I was still a toddler and he never stopped. Yet my mom stayed.

Even after he tried to stab her to death in front of me when I was 10. Even when beat her daily and broke her bones. Even when beat me and broke mine. He tried to kill himself in front of me when I was 12.

He tried to go after my little sister when she was still a toddler, but I never let him. From that day on it doubled the amount of beatings I took, cause he got a kick out of it when I put up a fight whenever he tried going after her.

When I was 14 he once again beat me into a pulp, before he kicked me out for being “a filthy whore” and “his biggest mistake”. After that I attempted to end my life for the first time. And after everything was said and done, my mom made me come back.

Just a few of the many highlights of my childhood/ teenage years. 

My dad left me mentally and physically broken to the point where even now, many years later, most days walking or even standing hurts. Badly. His abuse paved my own way into addiction. 

What I’m trying to say with all this, I’ll never understand that side of my dad. The violent side that is.

What I understand better now though, the older I get? The addiction and the mental health issues he was facing. 

Much like him, I’m dealing with a number of serious mental health conditions. Even now that I’m diagnosed, most days are a never ending struggle. 

Much like him, I’ve been an addict to everything I could get my hands on since my teenage years. That’s when the toll all these beatings took on my body started to really show and when my mind really started processing all the trauma that he'd put us through. 

Much like it did him, my addiction almost killed me. It was only a couple of years ago that my own addiction was so bad that I had pretty much given up and accepted that it would take my life. 

I hate my dad. Most days I’m glad he’s gone. But I understand his pain. So much.

Only thing different is that I never chose the path of violence that he chose. I never chose to hurt anyone or put them down to make them just as miserable as I was. I never chose violence to break someone.

I chose kindness and redemption and I was fortunate enough to find a way out of the addiction he could never escape. I’m thankful I chose that fight every day. And I’ll keep choosing that fight every day. 

That being said, I am 615 days sober today. Longest I’ve been since I started using at the prime age of 13. And I couldn’t be prouder of myself for that. 615 days and hopefully forever. 

I’m not gonna lie, I’m in pain almost every day, both physically and mentally, but for me living with that is better than not living at all. It’s better than endlessly chasing the numbness or the next high. 

And despite everything I just said, I still grieve my dad. Not the man he was, but everything that could’ve been. 

Despite everything he did to me I had chosen compassion. I had helped him get into rehab only months prior to his death, cause everyone else, even my mum, had finally given up on him. 

I was barely 20, an addict myself and in no shape to take care of anyone, yet it was a last ditch effort to maybe somehow make him love me. Joke’s on me, cause he never did. 

Last time I saw him was the summer before his death outside that rehab facility I dropped him off at. Our last text convo was making tentative plans for Christmas. A week later my then 13y.o. sister and my mum found him dead in his apartment. Multiple organ failure.

I never had a proper father figure to look up to, so what I’m really grieving is the idea of a father figure that could have been. 

The topic is quite controversial within our family, too. 

My mum just shoved everything aside and is still making him out to be this great guy that he wasn’t. She chose denial. Deep deep denial. My sister was too young to remember the worst of it. We shielded her the best we could, really. 

My dad finally left us for one of his many affairs and moved out when she was 9. He moved away and she saw him twice a year after that.

I saw him once a year when he came to visit. And we couldn’t be in the same room for more than two minutes without things getting physical between us.

I still remember an instance when I was 17 and he tried to lay hands on me again during his visit. I punched him right in the face in self-defense and he had a pretty shiner after that. 

My dad only moved back into town 6 months before his death in an attempt to fix things with my mum and my sister. I was already in college by then, I visited home during my term break though. Sometimes I wish I hadn't.

In these six months he did a number on my sister though, to the point where up until this day she sees him as this big hero. 

A lot of it also is thanks to my mum’s stories. My sister firmly believes that my dad was flawed, yet was the best dad ever. My mum and sister are both so deep in denial that it physically pains me. 

Me? I can’t forgive him. Never could. I see him for the monster he truly was. And I don’t believe in “protecting his memory”. Not when it’s all lies.

And every year around this day I can’t believe how much power he still holds over me, even from his grave. I’ve been in therapy on and off for 15 years, yet there’s things I can never let go or forget.

I’ve mostly forgiven my mum for what she put us through by staying with him. Mostly. The memories of my dad haunt me to this day though. The muscle memory is still there and the pain never leaves. I have constant physical reminders. 

Anyway. Today I’m grieving the idea of a father I could’ve had and I’m grieving the things and years I lost to his cruelty. I’m grieving, yet I’m celebrating being alive and sober and on the path to a better life at the same time. 

If you made it till here, just know this: I don’t want any pity. I don't wanna hear how strong I am. I know I am. But I wish I wasn't. I'd rather be not traumatized, but that's beside the point.

What I want is this: If you have someone you love, I want you to go hug them (a friend, a parent, a pet, whoever) today and think of a good memory you have with them, maybe tell them you love them. That would make me happy. 

[charliethinks]

//tw: mention self harm and eating, suicidal ideation

i’m so stupid and disgusting. i’m done eating i hate it. i just wanna starve till i’m dead. that’s all i want right now, to be dead. i could just off myself whenever i want but in too weak to do it.

i fucking relapsed. after 14 days i relapsed like an idiot. a weak idiot. i’m horrible. hitting and cutting myself is not enough anymore, i need something that’s much worst.

how am i supposed to go to the beach this summer with cuts all over my body? they are everywhere. people will just look at me funny and think i’m a depressed emotionless insane person.

the only times i pray is at night when i pray to never wake up, but i always wake up. why??

[kloofspeaks]

His Name Was Bradley | A Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell One-shot

TW: Mentions of death, implied self sacrifice, the feeling of seeing a dead body (It's not graphic, but Maverick see's his body and it get's mentioned a couple times,) and mourning loved ones.

Summary: Maverick thinks of what could've been if he was the one who could've died up there. Yet, now he was standing in front of the grave of a man he thought wouldn't die till years later.

Words: 1500 (BIG ONE LETS GO)

(Tags, read at your own risk if you really want to: @bayisdying, @notyoursbutlewis, @viothewolx, @callmemana)

“Can you believe it’s been five years?” That question was ringing in his ears, had it really been five years since that time?

It felt like just yesterday they were both inside that F-14 flying like hell to get back home. Maverick was sitting in the hard deck while Penny was talking about the past, he wasn’t paying attention. 

His eyes were on the dusty piano, the piano that hadn’t been played in five years as it had the carvings of lyrics in the wood from the comrades of the dead boy. 

He had died that day, the day they were fighting for a way back home. 

Everything was fake.

The boy was never there with him during that whole F-14 fight. 

He never got to tell him what he wanted to talk about. 

He had saved Mavericks life and died in a fiery hell. 

He wished for something to tell him everything was going to be alright, but that never came. 

No one cared to ask Maverick how it affected him, 

He had grabbed the helmet and snapped off the dog tags off the boy’s body. He couldn’t cry, he was too deep in grief to just stand there in that snowy escape and allow sour tears of failure hit his damaged and peaceful body. 

He remembers the funeral, the second one he had to do that year. 

The lieutenant’s surrounding Maverick in a big hug, he could always remember what Phoenix told him before she took off to her next squadron.

“It’ll get better.” She had a small smile, even after all the tears she had shed for her dear friend.

She somehow found the happiness that Maverick couldn’t even get a grasp on.

There had been nights when he stood out on the front steps of Penny’s house, just staring out to the ocean coated in a clear paint of moonlight. He felt like he failed. 

He failed Carole

He failed Goose

He failed Ice 

Who else could he fail? He had one task.

Bring everyone home. 

He couldn’t even do that right, was his whole life just a bunch of mistakes that ended on a good note? He couldn’t tell, he couldn’t even understand what he did wrong. 

Why did the kid do that to himself? He knew the outcome, he knew that Maverick did that so he could live on, it’s all his dad would’ve wanted. 

But instead Maverick was the one who had to sit and stare at still photos of his old friends, his old wingmen. 

He remembered the day the kid showed him how to wear a cowboy hat properly after Goose had been going on and on about their Tennessee genes. 

He never grew up to have such a thick accent as his dad, he never even had a chance to grow up past thirty-two.

Oh, how Maverick had to pick him up and swing him around just to get the lad to cheer up and have a wide smile on his face. 

The night when Goose looked Maverick dead in his eyes and told him he was going to be a God parent was a night that was unforgettable. 

The first time Maverick had cried was when he held the kid.

The second time was when he had to bury his dear friend. 

The third time was when Carole broke down in front of him.

The fourth was when she passed right there in his arms in that hospital bed, the beeps of the heart monitor slowly fading and nothing else felt real anymore. 

The fifth time never came. 

Crying felt guilty, he had one simple task. He failed to do everything that involved that task. 

Nobody blamed Maverick though, it was the kid’s choice to put his life on the line.

But Maverick couldn’t think about his choice, he could only think about the promise that Carole had told him just moments before she died. 

“Don’t let him fly, Mav. Not after what happened to Goose.”

She had asked him one stupid request that ruined everything, and the kid had to go out of his way to kill himself. 

Just because Maverick had put himself in danger in good ol’ Maverick fashion. 

He knew Goose would’ve done the same thing. 

They were related, from the edge of their mustaches to the sound of their voices.

You couldn’t go anywhere without them.

That’s why he felt like he was held accountable for this.

The image of his lifeless body, the way Maverick bit his lip till it bled to stop himself from shedding a single tear. 

He didn’t want to leave him.

He didn’t want to let go of his friend a second time. 

He was trusted with the blonde.

But he couldn’t do it. 

He gave him an honorable goodbye. 

He was the whole reason the mission was successful. 

But it didn’t feel successful, everyone was off after that day.

Hangman, Phoenix and Coyote continued with their training, while the others hung back a bit to help Maverick around and keep him in better spirits. 

He remembered the look on Bob’s face when he was telling him all about the way he used to fly with Iceman. 

The way that everyone seemed to act like a team as they were making a small memory of the boy. 

The photos pinned in his favorite reading spot, a small memory of the red helmet right next to his father’s. 

He wasn’t supposed to go that soon. 

But everyone knew he did it for a better future. 

Everyone except Maverick. 

There was no better future without him. 

Without him and his father.

He had no one else.

Goose was always the one that made Maverick feel included, he was quite the shy and spunky guy. Everyone seemed to judge him before they spoke to him.

Goose was always able to get them to know Maverick though. 

So, after Goose died.. Maverick didn’t know how to communicate like him. 

It was sort of like he lost part of his character. 

But soon, his son started to fill that void. 

It was a slow filling of the vase. 

They were huge shoes to fill.

From the nights the kid would run around Mavericks hangar with his father’s helmet on.

To the days where they sat outside on the beach behind the hard deck talking about their differences. 

He was no different from his dad. 

He filled those shoes with no problem.

That’s why Maverick blamed himself. 

Everytime he looked at him.. he saw his father in those brown eyes. 

They always looked so hollow, so full of ideas.. like there were so many things going through the boy’s head at once. 

It was just like Goose. 

Just like the person that should’ve been there to raise him.

Now, Maverick had to replace the beautiful flowers on three graves instead of two.

The bradshaw name was gone.

It had shattered the day he lost him.

The day he broke his promise on so many accounts. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Mav.”

 He could hear Penny repeating the same lines over and over in his head as he reached out and grabbed the cup of beer in front of him.

It never tasted the same as the night he watched the boy play piano just like his father. 

The day he was thrown out by his lieutenant’s who barely knew his name.

He could remember the days he stood in front of his grave and just asked him why.

Like he was expecting some sort of answer. 

Some sort of being to pop out of the ground and tell him the answer to this one and simple issue. 

Penny always said it was because he loved him.

He was like a father figure to the kid, he couldn’t say anything else but that. 

It had to be him.. out of all people to raise his bestfriends son. 

It wasn’t Goose

It wasn’t Carole

But it was Maverick

The recluse everyone thought wouldn’t last long in a plane with all his fly-by’s and lack of authority. He was a Maverick, nobody could control his high-strung ego. 

That was unless it was Goose. 

The boy had his father’s talents too.

They both could tame the bull by its horns. 

But now there was no one to do that anymore. 

So the man spiraled.

He couldn’t feel anything in his finger tips. 

But all he could say,

All he could remember when he would tell people about this story.

The story of emotions 

A family name 

A musically talented man

And a son that followed in his father’s footsteps no matter how much his mother hated his mustache. 

Was that

His name was Bradley.

[pochapal]

Oh yeah, remember to do the Tea Parties and ??? chapters after each episode, they're important.

i have no clue what these things are so instead of thinking about this i will pretend that this information does not exist until the time when i would learn about it naturally. (not trying to be mean or anything but this is skirting very much into spoiler territory! things are more fun when i figure things out/approach them at my own pace and in my own time!)

[whysamwhy123]

Any unpopular opinions?

(Sleepover Sunday, I guess, because I'm only getting to this now, whoops!) ALL I HAVE ARE UNPOPULAR OPINIONS, LOL. Seriously, I'm lucky I only have, like, seven followers because otherwise I'd be chased off this website with torches and pitchforks. I'll try to give a mildly spicy one and not to be too much of a bitch...we'll see...

Toni Storm's current character/gimmick is A THOUSAND times more creative and original than anything any man on that roster has done in YEARS. And the fact that she's not on this PPV card is a fucking travesty. But I'm not surprised because TK hates women, and wrestling fans simply do not show up for women's wrestling the same way they do for boring white guys doing the most generic, tired, old Heel 101 bullshit 🙂🙂🙂

Ah, fuck it, one more because I bitch about this every week anyways - that Nigel wanker on Collision is one of the worst commentators I've ever heard. He's so annoying! He spends more time putting himself over than the talent in the ring (literally the opposite of a commentator's job) and he clearly has no respect for the women because as soon as a women's match starts, he immediately starts talking about unrelated male wrestlers. Or just himself! And that's when he's not making pervy comments about them - dude makes JR sound like a feminist icon by comparison. I am uncooly judging everyone on here who thirsts over him. Come on, people, standards! Y'all gonna start thirsting over the Qanon moron next?