#and like its so fucked up that even me owning up to the fact that im not without fault makes me feel like im the one who was in the wrong.

[pastadoughie]

i dont know how to say it or what to even do at this point

i am in an abusive housing situation. witch isnt really new info nor something i talk about often. i have learned to deal w/ shit on my own overtime, aswell as my situation getting slightly better with my distancing from certain family members. but its still bad.

my mother & my brother are both extremely abusive, my brother is phisically abusive, and my mother is a pedophile. they are the only other familial ties i have aside from my dad, and they obviously arent viable and would be worse for me.

my dad is my best option in terms of family and the only person i live with currently. when hes drunk he can be actively cruel & abusive, regularly threatening sexual abuse via forfeiting custody of me to my mother. but im still semi able to reason with him while he isnt drunk. most the times hes simply neglectful, witch is preferable to the alternative atleast. & can somewhat be manipulated into caring about me, or at the very least signing & agreeing to things if i do all of the other legwork

i have a disability of some sort, i have alot of theories but overall doctors refuse to properly test me. i smoke so, they just blame every single issue i have on that & dont listen to ANY of my concerns. somewhat similar to pots in terms of symtoms. i just call it "the slop", this sortof sludge that clouds all my thoughts and everything i do. when it gets bad i cant move properly, often knocking things over, completely losing my train of thought. it can be really hard to have conversations with me, i spend alot of time being silent, keep repeating the same simple few words, dont really listen properly. i can sometimes spend hours just staring off into space. it gets better when im laying down, but sometimes not even that helps. it takes a certain kind of determination to get literally anything done. witch is really hard given my lack of any kind of support.

if i am not extremely ontop of things, if i cant force myself to do things through the slop, then i end up getting into these sludge spirals. i dont eat. i dont drink. i just lay in bed. you get so dizzy and your mouth gets so dry, and so hungry, and the slop is just unbarable. not even really existing as a person, sleeping 18 hours a day, sort of halfheartedly & extremely badly trying to do basic tasks, like eating or drinking, and then after 4 hours i just. go back to sleep. its unbarable & dehumanizing. & its not like i have anybody that can help me. i explain this to people and then they always make suggestions on how to manage it that requires another person to help, and then they never listen when i say i do not have anybody.

i need to get some kind of treatment and i need to get some kind of testing, but doing so requires so much work so many phone calls so much effort that i HAVE to do on my own, that i just. dont have the energy for. its not that im intellectually or phisically incapable i just, im just always in slop. its just always a barrier i have to work around. and the fact that just. the entire fucking medical system is so rotten to the core w/ incompetance & malice twards queer and disabled people means that its just.. so hard to get anything done at all for treatment.

and beyond the fact i have to get meds, i also really need to work on moving out. while i dont think my dad would realistically kick me out until im 18, as that would require actually doing paperwork. i dont trust him to be nice to me beyond that point.

and incase i need to say this to some sheltered fuck who does not understand this. no i cannot go to dcs. i have dealt with dcs my entire life. dcs is not an organization made to help people. it never HAS been. any good they do is incedental. they are at their core a government organization that is supposed to sound good. they do not help children. my tharapist submitted a dcs report about my brother trying to kill me back in december, and i had a dcs worker come to my door and start defending pedophilia to me. every single encounter i have had with dcs has eaither done nothing or actively been harmful to me in having a dcs worker actively encorage my families various abusive behavior.

in summery, i need some kind of help figuring out a way to. deal with everything. ideally something that would help me with practical stuff like medical paperwork, scedualling appointments, that stuff. ideally focused on & or primarily targeted to queer autists in the 16 to mid 20s range of ages. and also that is within arizona. most of the stuff ive been reccomending is stuff like housing and independant living programs, witch while helpful what im looking for is primarily medical help & that is centered around more chronic issues & disabilities that like, need more testing & such to be diagnosed, and not really in the vein of teaching me how to do appointments & such, i know how. i just. am not super good at functioning in general.

dont dm me saying "oh im always here if u wanna talk!!" thats weird. i dont know you.

[rems-writing]

The Doberman

》 Pairing: bodyguard!Yeosang x rapper afab!reader

》 Trope: friends to lovers

》 Wordcount: 2,443 words

》 Rating: mature

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

I am tagging @acupoftaewithsomesuga since I love fucking with her and @frenchkisstheabyss since Yeo has been wrecking her lately :3

You had just wrapped up yet another concert for your world tour and even had a special guest come out to perform a new song that you three have collabed on. 

The special guest was the rapper duo Matz. 

After you had thanked everyone in the crowd for coming out tonight and bid them goodnight, you walked off backstage and took off the fur coat that you wore throughout the performance. As you took off the ridiculously huge sunglasses that were bedazzled with so many tiny diamonds, you blinked rapidly to adjust your sight to the dimly lit dressing room that you had walked into. You sat in front of the brightly lit vanity mirror and proceeded to remove your makeup. Since you were jumping around and moving a lot, it had caused a lot of sweat to drip down your face. While you were putting on facial moisturizer, you felt a pair of huge arms wrap around you. Since you were sitting on a stool, those arms were securely around your waist. You relaxed under the familiar touch and looked up to see your best friend smiling at you. 

“Hi, Sangie~”

Kang Yeosang, known as the Doberman, was by far the most intimidating bodyguard you’ve hired. A lot of people never took him seriously at first due to his statue-esque face and his overall soft personality, but you knew better. Ever since you two were kids, you’ve known him to be a tough guy. He may not seem like the confrontational type nor the type to get angry so easily, but push the right buttons and you just might find yourself underneath the unnerving gaze of the angel turned demon. You recalled the first time you guys met. 

You were being bullied by your old high school’s football captain. He tripped you while his girlfriend, the head cheerleader, popped her bubblegum bubble and laughed wickedly at you as you tried to get up and gather your things. The laughter from the cheerleader soon turned into a frightened whimper and you looked up to see a furious Yeosang squeezing the captain’s wrist harshly, almost to the point of breaking it. Afraid that an adult might see, you stood up and hugged him from behind quickly. 

“Please… not here. Someone might see.”

When he looked at you, you swore you were staring into the eyes of an angel. His fiery fury melted into the softest expression that you knew would be reserved for you one day if you played your cards right. He let the captain go with a shove, causing him to stumble backwards and topple onto his teammates. He whipped his head around and spoke in a voice that basically clawed its way from the depths of hell. 

“If I catch you bothering her again, you will suffer from more than just a broken wrist.”

That’s how deep it was. 

You saw them run away and you looked up at him, bewildered by the fact that he now looked at you with a small shit eating grin on his face. 

“Come have lunch with me!”

And the rest was history. 

From that moment alone, you knew that you two would be attached at the hip and support each other along the way to your rising careers. When you first got signed to RM Records, owned by Kim Namjoon himself, the first thing you established before signing the contract was to have Yeosang as your personal bodyguard. Namjoon was hesitant at first, but once he saw Yeosang, he was impressed with his strength and the way he carried himself as he protected from harm. Since then, he’s always been at your side. From the beginning until now. 

“Ready for the afterparty?”

“Absolutely not. But tonight was successful so I might as well go.”

One thing never changed and that was your hatred for social gatherings. Luckily, you never went to a lot of them. However, you still had a lot of adrenaline in you so you figured that you’d use it all up at this afterparty that you were invited to. After making sure the moisturizer was dried up, you stood up and went into a different room to change into a different outfit. Per usual, Yeosang stood outside your door with his mask on and his sharp eyes looked around everywhere. When you finished, Yeosang turned around and his jaw almost dropped. 

You looked gorgeous. 

You wore a gray AC/DC shirt that was cut and styled into a crop top, a dark green plaid skirt that was high waisted, and emerald green Converse shoes that were low-cut. Another thing that never changed about you despite your career as a rapper? Your grunge/punk rock aesthetic when it comes to your clothing. Yeosang knew that the tight clothing that showed a bit too much was something you didn’t like, but since you didn’t want to be mistaken for the lead singer of a rock band, you had to research what female rappers wore and you made sure that the tight clothing was only reserved for concerts. After all, you wanted to keep your rapper persona and your true self separated. 

“Ok, Sangie. You can close your mouth. You might catch a fly. I know I look good.”

“Damn right you fucking do.”

Yeosang said it quietly to himself as he watched you gather your things and follow you towards the limousine that was parked outside of the venue. He would never admit it, but he fell for you a long time ago. However, he blatantly assumed that you didn’t feel the same way so he kept his feelings to himself. The venue was packed with fans and paparazzi being held back by barricaded gates and a lot of security guards. You kept your head down and walked as quickly as you could while Yeosang shielded you from the blinding lights that each camera’s flash emitted. One lucky, or unlucky, photographer jumped over the barricade and ran towards you before aiming his camera at you. 

“SMILE, CHESHIRE!”

Before you could protest or even hear the camera go off, you saw a gloved hand reach over you and crush the camera lens into pieces. Your eyes widened as Yeosang glared at the photographer, who was shaking in his boots. 

“Step away from her.”

Yeosang practically growled at him and watched with a bit of satisfaction as the photographer ran away. Soon, that very same gloved hand rested itself on your lower back and urged you forward so you could step into the limo first. Once you were inside, Yeosang followed in after you and closed the door, sighing deeply as he closed his eyes and threw his head back. You didn’t know why, but you found the sight attractive. The way his chest was heaving up and down, his forehead glistening with sweat, and the strands of his black hair blocking the birthmark that you loved so dearly? Even when he was catching his breath, he looked like a god. It didn’t help that he removed his gloves so his hands could gently grab your thigh. It was natural of him to do that. You normally didn’t mind that, but tonight felt different. Yet you didn’t find it in you to shove his hand off. It just felt right. 

“Yunho, drive!”

Your driver nodded and soon took off to the place where the afterparty was. It was a bit of a drive so you had ample time to rest. As you closed your eyes, your mind drifted off to scenarios that involved you & Yeosang in a lot of different positions. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You hated it. 

The afterparty was a full mess. The music was a weird mix of EDM and pop, there were so many bodies on the dance floor basically humping each other rather than dancing, and on top of that, the alcohol was absolute shit. You wanted to go home, but you knew Yunho needed to get his break in so you let him take his 30 while you were sipping on a vodka cranberry cocktail and observing the scene unfolding in the safety of a secluded booth. Yeosang stood beside you and watched everyone like a hawk to make sure you were safe. It was like this for a few minutes until a group of drunk guys and girls walked past you. One of them, who definitely had too much to drink, pointed at you and sneered at you loudly. 

“WHY DOES SHE GET TO SIT BY HERSELF WHILE WE HAVE TO WALK AROUND?!”

Yeosang noticed the commotion and came in between you and her. Even in the poor lighting of the club, you could make out every single trace and curve of his back muscles through the black dress shirt he sported. 

“Ma’am, I suggest you move along.”

“AYE DON’T TALK TO MY GIRL LIKE THAT! LET HER TALK HER SHIT!”

Yeosang resisted the urge to roll his eyes in annoyance and simply whipped out a black & silver dagger before aiming the sharp blade at the man’s throat. 

“You do not have to yell in my ear like that, sir.” 

Yeosang was thrown off by the woman’s overly manicured hand running over his arm. Each drag of her nails across his biceps and muscled forearm sent you spiraling downwards into a pit of unplaced jealousy. However, you didn’t have to do anything about it since Yeosang grabbed the woman’s wrist and squeezed it tightly. 

“If you and your posse do not move along, I will use force. And trust me. You do not want to push me any further.”

The venom dripping into his tone meant serious business. The woman freed herself from his grasp and ran away, her friends following behind. The man called him a crazy bastard before fleeing the scene as well. Yeosang sighed and put away the dagger before turning to you and reaching a hand out. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

You nodded wordlessly and took his hand before following him out of the club. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How did you end up here? 

One minute, you two were seated side by side in the limo and Yeosang helped you sober up. The next minute, you were straddling him, kissing himself fiercely and passionately as your fingers tugged at his hair. Yeosang kissed back with the same fervor, his gloves discarded so his palms could map every inch of your skin as his hands cupped under your thighs. 

Finally, you two were back in your hotel room. You were on your knees, hands splayed on his slack-covered thighs, and your mouth stretched open by his undeniably thick cock. Yeosang threw his head back and let out such beautiful moans as his fingers tangled in your head and pushed you down even further onto his cock, forcing you to deepthroat him. You gagged a bit and Yeosang cooed at the sight of your fucked out face, eyes brimming with tears, and drool coming down the corners of your mouth. 

“Relax your throat, beautiful. Yeah that’s it.” 

You’d never thought you’d live to see yourself choking on your best friend’s dick, yet here you were. Were you complaining? Nope! Did you two need to talk about what you guys were after this? Yes. 

“Look at you, choking on my cock. You can take more, and you definitely did. You showed me that you’re such a good fucking girl by taking it all. Fuck! I love you so much.”

The praise and sudden confession lit a fire within you and you sped up your actions, fondling his balls as well. Yeosang couldn’t take it anymore and held your head still before moving his hips so he could fuck your face. You felt his tip touch the back of your throat and you moaned at the feeling. The vibrations sent a shockwave of pleasure through him and he knew he was close. However, he wanted something different. Without warning, he stopped and pulled out of your mouth quickly before helping you stand up and smashing his lips onto yours. You felt his tongue turn 180 degrees as he explored the inside of your mouth. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected your moths before it broke apart. 

“Stand against the wall and strip.”

His deep voice was husky and sensual and you didn’t think twice before doing what he said. As you slowly stripped, you kept your eyes on him. He did the same while he unbuttoned his shirt with one hand and shoved his pants down with the other. When both of you were fully naked, you took a minute to admire each other before Yeosang came closer to you. He grabbed your hips and lifted you up before making you wrap your legs around his slim waist and sinking you down onto his cock. You mewled and whined at how easy he slid in yet felt the stretch since again, his cock was undeniably thick. Yeosang leaned in and connected your foreheads, taking in the feeling of being inside you before proceeding to thrust in and out of you at a brutal pace. Your arms were hooked under his so you took the opportunity to leave scratch marks down his back. It seemed to turn him on even more since he went faster. 

“Fuck, baby! That’s it. Mark me. Fucking mark me. Make sure the world sees that I’m yours. Because you know damn well that you’re mine.”

His dirty words caused you to moan and Yeosang looked at you briefly before leaning down to your neck to kiss and mark it up. His grip on you tightened and he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. 

“I’m close, Sangie!”

“Fuck. Me too.”

Seconds later, the both of you reached your orgasms together. Your arousal dripped down his cock while his seed shot up in you. He stayed inside of you for a few minutes to make sure every single drop was emptied out of him. He soon pulled out yet he still held you close to him. 

“Come on. Let’s shower together.”

“Ok, but… we need to talk about what we are in the meantime.”

“I know for a fact that I’m deeply in love with you and I’d actually take rejection over being friends-with-benefits. You’re too good for that and I hate sharing.”

“Luckily, you don’t have to worry about rejection nor establishing a situationship with me. I’m deeply in love with you too.”

Yeosang smiled and kissed both your cheeks before carrying you into the bathroom so you two could wash up.

“So what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

[batchilla]

The most married divorced couple - Chapter 4 - Coffee and Custody

Years of well honed instincts through gruelling training had Jason as a perpetually light sleeper. A perpetually light sleeper who knew, even in his sleep, that he was being watched. 

He opens one eye, slowly sitting up as he takes in his surroundings - his wife’s… his ex wife's penthouse apartment. Well, that told him who was watching him at least. Sure enough, peering at him from behind the furthest arm of the couch he’d spent the night on is a tell-tale mess of curls so like his own - and Mary comes scrambling, not around the couch, but up to sit on the arm. “DAD!” 

Every time. Every time, that single word reminds him that there is in fact good in the world, and that his baby girl might just be the epitome of that. She all but tackles him into a cuddle. “You're here!”

He tries not to wince. He doesn’t ever want her to hug him less enthusiastically - but last night hadn’t gone well, and becoming climbing equipment for his daughter did not exactly help his recovery. 

Jason hugs her tight “Hi baby.” he says, his head resting on hers.

“Mm not a baby.” she grumbles “are you stayin’ for breakfast?”

“If mum says yes.” He says, part of him feeling dirty over the manipulative tactic - but the truth of the matter always was that Mary had a higher success rate in campaigning for him to stay then he did. Something about those adorable little eyes, he suspects. Mary hms, tucking her head against her shoulder. 

“M’ glad you came Dad. I don’t want Mr Brett to be my new dad.” Fucking what? Part of him wanted to resort to old methods on this ‘Mr Brett’ with extreme prejudice. For sniffing around his wife and daughter, and for trying to take what should have still been his. 

“What's that now baby?” he says, trying to keep the growing emotions that were making him feel like he was on fire. She didn’t need to know about any of that. 

“Mr Brett, he walks me to school sometimes cus I’m best friends with Jaxon and Riley and Kyle, and sometimes Mum walks me with them. They say its like a ‘carpool’ but cars don’t go to the pool, and the other day he and mummy went for a playdate while I was at grandpa Bruce’s and then Mum was asking how I felt about Mr Brett and I said he was so nice but that I don’t want a new dad and then she turned on baby shark and I got distracted.”  He takes a deep breath. He can’t get mad in front of Mary. Another deep breath. He realistically can’t get mad at all. He knows that. He had been divorced from his wife for four years. She was allowed to seek out … companionship. Had he? No. Did it feel akin to a betrayal? He knew it shouldn’t - but it did. She didn’t need to be lonely - and he didn’t want her to be. But he did hope that he’d somehow end up being the solution, not this fucking ‘Mr Brett’ asshole. Even then - companionship was one thing, but a relationship serious enough she’d mention it to Mary?

“Well, I’m sure he’s… nice, if your Mum likes him.”

“Mhm. Maybe you can say hi when he comes to get me for school.” “Speaking of school!” His wife's voice sounds from her doorway, loud enough to tell him she’d heard enough of that to panic slightly. “Mary, get dressed, you’ll be late.” 

Mary reluctantly separates from the hug, dragging her feet dramatically “Okay mum. Even though Dad’s here and he NEVER is, school happens every day and is super boring.”

“Nice try bubba.” she says, folding her arms and shaking her head. The second their child shuts the door - still loudly complaining about how unfair it all was, which in Jason’s opinion was psychological warfare, which his ex wife seemed somehow immune to, Jason turns to her. “We need to talk.”

She sighs “I guess we do. But not in front of Mary.” She runs a hand through her hair. “She’ll have eggs and toast soldiers - you want some?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to sound less bitter than he feels as he watches her head to the kitchen.

“So, Brett…” He says, following her to the kitchen and grabbing the bread and putting it in the toaster.

“Charles Brett.” you clarified.

Jason had to physically restrain himself from laughing. “Charles Brett? Those are both first names. You’ve replaced me with a man with a first name for a last name.”

“I haven’t REPLACED you, you LEFT!” She says, indignant furry in her eyes as she whips around to face him, stove at her back. Jason felt his blood boil. Yes, he’d left, but he hadn’t wanted to!

“And then you wouldn’t let me come BACK!” he counters, trying to keep his voice level, but not managing it. 

“BECAUSE YOU WERE RIGHT TO LEAVE!” She yells, tears in her eyes. 

“you fighting?” Mary asks, opening her bedroom door, tugging at the tie of her Gotham academy uniform as if it had personally offended her.

  “No sweetie.” they say in unison, as they shoot her reassuring smiles.

It doesn’t work.

She regards you both suspiciously, and takes her toast and eggs “please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always cries when you leave so please don’t fight now.” “What?”

“Please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always gets sad when you leave so please don’t fight now.”

“What?” Jason asks, glancing from Mary to you. You were proud that you’d raised an honest, headstrong young lady who had no hesitation speaking her mind. You did sometimes, such as right now, wish she did it a little less often around Jason. Jason who was now looking at you with a face you hated for how little you could read. He used to be an open book to her. Mary pulls herself onto the chair at the kitchen bench and dips her toast into her egg. “We got two names.” she points out to Jason. “Todd’s a boy's name.”

You sigh, and sip your coffee. She’d heard all of it. How lovely. 

Your baby girl looks at you, her hair in an attempt of a ponytail, her uniform slightly overlarge still, being early in the school year, both making her look so, so tiny. “What did dad mean? That you wouldn’t let him come back?”

You feel like you're falling. Luckily, there’s no amount of hurt, upset, or angry that Jason could be that would mean he wouldn’t come to your aid. “See cherub… Daddy didn’t mean that.” He says, grabbing her shoulder gently.

“I did… Well, I’m sure someone at school might’ve said, or the news… Marriage is supposed to be a promise to love each other forever … and I broke that promise.” Jason takes a deep breath.

 “What I did hurt your mum. She hasn’t forgiven me. Maybe she won’t ever. She doesn’t have to.” He shakes his head. “I said what I said because I was upset, but… It’s not her fault. It’s mine.”

You offer him an awkward, tight smile. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you baby girl. Just that … being married wasn’t the best option for us anymore.”

“...” Mary leans into her Dads side, her face solemn and thoughtful. You have to avert your gaze from the pair, lest you start crying - or worse - forgive him. 

“Do you still love mum?” she asks quietly, and Jason opens his mouth, hesitating for a second - which saves him from needing to answer the question. Only to make the situation a million times worse for you. Jason looks to the door. “Brett?” he asks, addressing you, but his gaze not leaving the door, with a look in his eyes that reminds you of darker days. “Brett.” You confirm, taking a deep breath as you move towards the door. “You packed M?”

“Yeah Mum,” she says, grabbing her backpack and shrugging it on, wrapping her arms around Jason’s waist in a goodbye hug. 

“See ya soon Dad?”

“...Yeah, baby. Really soon. Promise.” He says, ruffling her hair. 

You open the door, hoping to do this quickly, before things get even more uncomfortable. Charles Brett is a shorter man, with brown hair, brown eyes, forever slightly unkempt and a had perpetually tired look in his eyes from being a single father of three. But he has a kind smile, and you like him. He’s … a good man. He’s not Jason, but then again no one is. 

“Charles, Hi.” You say, leaning against the door to bar entrance. Normally you’d invite him in, have coffee or let the kids watch a episode of bluey while you chatted if the morning was running on schedule. 

He says your name, but catches your discomfort before he says anything more, and his gaze moves past you, looking for its source - and he finds it.

“Oh, Hello - Jason, yes? The ex husband?” He asks, pretending not to know who he was, as if he hadn’t seen the many magazines and heard the gossip surrounding his incredibly public, if staged, infidelity. As if Jason, in his need to convince Roman you meant nothing, hadn’t publicly called you a bitch. Jason doesn’t seem to remember that at this moment, and you watch as he puffs up his chest in rage. 

“Yeah. You have an issue with that?” he asks, moving to stand behind you.

“And if I do—-”

“Not. In. Front. Of. The. Kids.” You interject, before it can go too far. 

“Have a good day at school sweetie.” You say, kissing the crown of Mary’s head, giving Charles an apologetic smile, and all but slamming the door and turning to Jason. 

“He’s a good man.” You growl. Because he is. And because Mary needs a positive male influence, and Jason hasn’t been able to be that. And because you are a little worried that Jason is going to use his alter ego to run him off. 

“He’s sniffing around where he doesn’t belong.” Jason counters, stepping forward. You step back, and feel the door knob press against your spine. 

“He belongs here if I want him here.” You reply, refusing to be intimidated. “Yeah, well he doesn’t get to be my kids fucking dad! I’m her dad!” You cut your own angry response short “what? We’ve been on two dates. No one is becoming a dad to our daughter?!” “That’s not what she said” Jason says, folding his arms. “Mary got ‘married’ twice last week at recess and last I checked had two boyfriends and a girlfriend.” You roll your eyes. “She is not the leading expert in how adult relationships work.” Jason takes a deep breath. “So it’s not… serious?” You shrug. “It’s not … Look. We’re adults. We both have kids. We don’t have a lot of time for casual flings, and the kids get along so need to be protected. We are taking it seriously, but it’s early days.” He nods slightly, “I’m having bab’s look into him.” You close your eyes and exhale. “Jay…” “I won’t do anything unless I find something substantial.” he reluctantly promises. “But I don’t take chances when it comes to you.” You feel his presence loom closer despite your eyes being closed. You open them to see your ex husband’s hand lingering in the air a few centimetres from your shoulder, his eyes sad and longing as he stands before you. “Is he good to you?” He asks, the anger gone from his voice. “Can you… see a future with him?” “Why does it matter to you?” You ask. It’s mostly rhetorical. You know why, and really what you mean to ask without saying it in as many words… is if Jason feels he has any right to intervene if his search finds anything more serious than a questionable browser history.

“Why does it matter to you?” The words feel wrong against his very ears. His tenuous grasp on the cool facade he’d put up, which had almost begun to take a true effect, with those six words is utterly shattered. He feels his heart pounding, too fast, too hard, too angry. The pit changed him, in many ways. The anger had always been there. The pit had made it worse. He’d never once take it out on you. He’d sooner die. But it exists in him, clawing like a beast against the inside of his ribs. Why does it matter? Why does it FUCKING MATTER? It screams, it throws itself against his skin, it burns his eyes and boils in his blood. How can you not understand how deeply he loves you? How can you not understand that he’d destroy anything that wished you or Mary harm and delight in it? That if you hadn’t been in his life back then, he’d surely be on a very different path? How do you not understand? He turns away, tugging a hand through his hair, he cannot look at her in this moment, cannot meet those beautiful eyes, can’t bear to see the face he adores above all others contorted by anger. “It matters to me because I still fucking love you.” He says through gritted teeth, through the shame, the rage, and the hurt. “And because I know you know that,” He continues, stepping further back to pace the apartment - the home - that he had once shared with you. He hears her move across the hardwood towards him. Feels a hand on his arm. “Jason…” She says quietly, as if to soothe a wounded beast - and he wishes it didn’t work as well as it did. He wishes he didn’t feel like a frightened, pained, hissing beast. He pushes her away. Not aggressively - but a firm, nonverbal denial. “Roman fucked with our kid. I don’t regret what we did as a result. But love, he’s been in the ground for years. I know that it could happen again… But I don’t want to keep missing my kids' childhood because of that fear. If her safety costs us… then so be it. But I don’t accept that it will. I refuse. The only fucking reason I kept these-”

 He holds up the rings on the cord around his neck “Is to put yours back on your fucking finger one day.” He sits at the bench, his hands in his pockets so you can’t see his knuckles go white. So you can’t see his pain, or how bad what he is about to do scares him. “I don’t ever want to fight you. You know that, right?” He looks at you, and he hopes that whoever or whatever is out there he doesn’t sound as sad as he feels. He looks at her, his friend, his daughter's mother, his ex wife who he’d never truly seen as an ex anything, and he sees a woman who’s hurting as he is, but while he sees the solution to their pain as recovery of what was, she sees the solution as acceptance. She cannot help him. He cannot help her. But, together, perhaps, they can help their daughter. “I want you to know this isn’t just because of Brett. Though hearing Mary talk about a new dad did light a fire under my ass. I want custody. Shared, I mean.” He puts his head in his hands, elbows on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be asking for 50/50. Please.” He looks at her through his fingers. “We make a good team. Don’t make this be ugly.” She sighs, sad and tired and hurting. “I think we’re both a little too charged to talk about that right now. Can we have coffee in a few days?” He nods. “Yeah. Yeah that works for me. I uh… I’ll call Alfred to send a car round for me… and you can text me the details?”

A week later, you find yourself sitting in the back of a coffee shop, waiting for Jason to return with your drinks. You try not to dwell on the fact that despite not having asked, you knew he didn’t need to to know your order even after all this time.  You shuffle the papers of notes you’d had your lawyer look over. True, you trusted him. You thought he’d be a good father. You’d still stayed divorced for a reason. “I have concerns.” You say ternsly as he takes the seat across from you. He’s cleaned up. You can’t focus on that. You have a little girl who needs to come first right now - and you take a breath to remind yourself that she’s just as important to Jason. “Figures.” He says, but his tone is lighthearted. “Part of me just hates the idea of seeing her less.” You admit. He just nods, without judgement, without making the point that he knows what that’s like, simply letting you speak for the moment. “And it’s not because I like having her more than you, but because… I cried when she went on her first sleepover and she’s my baby.” You continue, picking at the napkin dispenser absentmindedly. “But beyond that there are logistical concerns as well. I know your … various residences…” safehouses. 

“Are safe. But moving as often as you do…” At least twice a week as a safety precaution.

“isn’t ideal for obvious reasons. Not to mention… She’s smart. She’s smart and she’s nosey.” Jason sips his coffee “her father’s daughter” “Nosey maybe. Smart? Debatable.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I see your point though. We don’t want her to find out about the families… extracurricular activities.” You sip your drink. Sure enough, he’d remembered your order. Damn him and his perfect memory and his perfect face. “I’ve put some thought into it.” He reassures, and you nearly snort. Some thought? Knowing Jason, knowing his family? Several hours of thought had gone into any decision they deemed remotely important. You’d attended meetings, essentially war councils, while you were still married about the most minor aspects of their cover. “With my … schedule, 50/50 won’t be possible without her knowing everything, and she isn’t ready yet. But I want weekends, which I… we? Would spend at the manor. For stability.” “We?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. Jason gives you the same grin that had made you fall in love with him. Your stomach turns to a lepidopterarium. Damn him. “Well, last I checked Bruce said you were welcome at the manor whenever you wished… and if she was coming with you, it wouldn’t need to be a legal arrangement. Less of a paper trail is safer for Mary.” Jason says it matter of fact. Detached. Like he’s explaining a mission, not talking about his life, or his child’s. You know better than to fall for it. He runs a hand through his hair and winks at you. “Though if there needs to be a paper trail I’d prefer it be one leading to us again. I said some shit I shouldn’t have the other day. I apologise for that. You can keep seeing that Charles idiot - I was a prick about him, and his background check came back clean. But… I meant it. I fully intend to fight to get you back.” He stands to leave before you can process or argue. “So… See you Saturday morning?” he says not at all a genuine question, kissing your forehead and heading to the door, much like he might disappear after a one liner as Red Hood. You suspect it’s a strategy that works on cops or criminals - but is less impressive to his ex wife. All you can think to call after him is “SAYING THAT AND WALKING OFF ISN’T AS SLICK AS YOU THINK”

taglist @jasontoddproblems

@fic-over-cannon

@stormz369

[lazywitchling]

“So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?”

(Yes I did just order a pot pie from the chicken fast food place. I’m watching 12 hours of movies, I ain’t cooking a whole pot pie!)

Okay. Look.

When I was younger, my cousin bitched about elves at Helm’s Deep not being in the book, but I didn’t think it mattered because it’s cool and I liked elves and it made me the fun kind of sad when Haldir died.

But now I get why. (I mean, ultimately it’s a fictional story so it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life, blah blah, you get the drill. I will complain about this, but I don’t care if you like it, ya dig?)

So here’s the thing. Theoden’s whole storyline throughout this movie and into the next is that he does not believe anyone will help him. Gondor could have come to save his people, but they didn’t. Rohan was left on its own, and people died, and that sucks. So Theoden has succumbed to the depressive thoughts of “We’re all gonna die anyway, why bother fighting?” (Hey that’s a major— actually THE major point of this whole story!!) He has hidden his people away to hide because he knows fighting is futile because they will be alone.

It’s a big deal when he agrees to go out and fight alongside Aragorn as the Uruks are about to overwhelm the keep. I said last year, Tolkien’s brand of hope is the difference between “I only have one hit point left :(“ and “I still have one hit point left >:)” Theoden STILL has no reason to believe help is coming, but he chooses to act like it is anyway, because the alternative is just curling up and dying right there. And he is rewarded, because Gandalf shows up with reinforcements!! Eomer, who has every reason to hate Theoden, brought all the riders to help! Everyone is saved! Hooray!!

But the damn elves show up in the middle of Theoden’s “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. And then elf help arrives. And he goes “Yay, help is here!!” And then nobody really mentions the elves again except for Haldir’s brief dying scene, and Theoden is right back in his “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. It just slaughters the pacing of the story, and Theoden’s arc along with it.

Furthermore, the elves say they were sent by Elrond, who has chosen to have the elves fight alongside mortals once again to honor old alliances! Except that Elrond isn’t really participating in this portion of his own character arc, and in fact doesn’t reach that “idk maybe mortals aren’t so bad after all” point until RotK. So it’s somehow fully out of character for him at this point even though he’s not even there.

ADDITIONALLY, it fucks up ARWEN’S story, because the whole thing with her is that she has to choose between sailing to the undying lands and being with her people forever but losing Aragorn, or staying with Aragorn who will eventually die and then she has no one left and no way to get to the undying lands and will never see her family again and will just live until the heat death of the universe. See, I’m pretty sure (don’t quote me on this) that there’s like… a respawn thing that happens with Tolkiens elves. They’re not only ageless, they’re unkillable. They CANT die. That’s why Arwen’s choice is so difficult. She couldn’t even live out life with him and then jump off a bridge after he dies so she doesn’t have to see the heat death of the universe. She’s literally stuck.

But friggin Haldir takes a sword to the head and has a sad death moment, and then I’m left wondering why everyone is pestering Arwen so much. If elves can die, then she has no problem.

I’m pretty sure it messes up other storylines too, but my pot pie is getting cold.

[babyboydaniel]

you can only chase a butterfly for so long | daniel ricciardo x max verstappen

warning: angst, hurt/comfort | word count: 570

since i am still trying to deal with what happened, i decided to write a little something to just work through some of it. so please read at your own risk. it will all be okay, even if right now there doesn't seem to be any hope.

As the morning sun slipped through the gaps in the curtain the unbearable weight of tomorrow fell over him. The emotional turmoil that was yesterday was a thing of the past, and now all he is left with is the aftermath of that storm. Though he was wrapped in the warm embrace of his boyfriend, the iciness lingered beyond the surface level. The unforgiving frost worked its way between his ribs until it pierced his heart. This was supposed to be his second chance. A moment to do it over again, and it was never supposed to end like this. End it such uncertainty that felt so final. 

His body and mind ached from the battering. His eyes filled with tears as they streaked down his face attempting to wash away the pity-filled words that were thrown at him. He tried to keep his body from rocking with sadness and prevent the sobs of betrayal from breaking through his lips, wanting to keep this moment to himself. Max did not deserve to be woken up by him in this state. But, Max was always so perceptive even when asleep. He was aware of even the most minuscule shift in his mood.  

“Daniel,” Max began, his arms pulling him impossibly closer. 

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Daniel responded, his voice thick with tears. 

“Oh, baby,” Max whispered as he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, “No need to apologize. I am here for you, always.”

Max’s words floated over his skin, providing pockets of warmth for him to sink into. For many years Daniel had Max by his side. Whether that was as teammates, rivals, friends, and eventually partners, it is the one thing he will never take for granted. Even through all of the blatant betrayal and pure disrespect, he would do it all again if that meant he got Max. 

“I want you to know that you are so loved. Loved by me, by your family and friends, and by so many others. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but I will be right by your side as we work through it.”

Daniel nodded as more tears fell, unable to form any more words. Tired of defending himself, tired of proving himself, tired of showing up and pretending that all was good, tired of the false positivity, tired of having his character questioned. It wore him down until he could no longer fight. 

“We will take our time because you deserve nothing less. This fucked up decision is not a reflection of you. It was never about you, and you were too good for the bullshit they put you through. You are always too good, Daniel. Most people don’t deserve you,” Max continued as he pressed delicate kisses along his shoulders. 

Daniel shifted in his arms until their chests were pressed together and their eyes met. Max’s blue eyes which were usually so guarded were laid open. Every emotion and feeling was on display, leaving nothing for Daniel to question. His honesty was apparent and his love and adoration were overflowing that if he wasn’t careful he could drown in it. 

“I love you,” Daniel stated. It was an absolute, a fact. 

With the gentleness of handling a porcelain doll, Max reached out and brushed his thumb along his cheek. The tenderness caused his heart to ache in a completely different way. “I love you too.”

[puppyeared]

good morning sifloop nation

[s0fter-sin]

soap's whole deal being sniper and demolitions gets me going bc on the surface they sound so different but when you get into it, you realise it's bc soap's smart

sniping is all math; calculating distances and wind interference and bullet drop. something i think people overlook is he was listed as a sniper first so it can be implied that he's better at it than demolitions. he does more sniping in both campaigns than demolitions work; in capture or kill, ghost specifically calls on him to take down the aq snipers

and demolitions is math with a hit of chemistry; knowing what mixes with what, knowing how much to use, recognising environmental factors and adjusting accordingly. it's not just about the boom; so much work goes into contained/ planned explosions. especially when having enough power for a breacher charge and not bringing down the whole building is the difference between mission success and failure

the chemical bombs he makes in alone can't just be any old cleaners, they have to have the correct reaction to each other; he just knew off the top of his head what would mix with what to create what reaction. he would also potentially have to recognise them by sight/smell bc they would’ve been written in spanish

soap would also have to know architecture; recognising structural integrity and weak points so he knows exactly where to plant a charge to bring it down and how it'll come down

he has an incredible soldier's mind people just forget that bc he's sociable which itself is a skill

we know he tends to buck against orders he doesn't agree with like when he pushes back against ghost in capture or kill and shepherd when he tells them to release hassan

he gets closer to people and sees if he can trust them and that's when he follows them without question. really think about how he talks to alejandro and rudy; he asks about their home and alejandro's family and rudy's relationship with him. those aren't questions you ask a stranger after a few hours of knowing them. that's not even touching on his relationship with ghost

he also deliberately brings people of higher ranks down to his level; talking informally with ghost and giving him a shoulder punch, addressing alejandro (a colonel!!) by his first name and rudy by his nickname despite literally just meeting them. he personalises all of them and it’s in direct opposition to the reason most characters do that; it’s not due to insubordination or lack of respect, the more he respects and trusts someone, the more casual he is with them

he digs into people; he wants to know what makes them tick and that determines if he can one, trust them and two, follow their orders. once he decides that, he's the ultimate soldier; he bleeds loyalty which makes him vicious when that loyalty is taken for granted

he isn't naive or bubbly or insecure; he's an incredibly smart and aware soldier. he's aggressive and bloodthirsty and loyal and intuitive and i love him so much

[deoidesign]

vampire and werewolf sitting in a tree

time trav e l i n g

first comes. trying to kill eachother then comes... learning you're his dead ex-lover then comes marriage!

(you can buy the book this scene is from for $15 it's really good. it's the fan favorite of the series!)

[zytes]

7.15.23

[salemontrial]

Why the FUCK didn't Sasha apologize to Quinni.

[starjunkyard]

Guys the huddy breakup scene fucking me up so bad What thefuck. I KNEW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN BUT I STILL. I

GOD ITS JUST SO CRUEL FROM HOUSE'S PERSPECTIVE? AND I UNDERSTAND WHY CUDDY DID WHAT SHE DID BUT WE'VE BEEN WITH HOUSE THIS WHOLE TIME AND WE SAW HIM IN REHAB!!!!!!!!! AND WE SAW HIM DETOX AND WHAT HE DID TO GET BETTER AND CUDDY JUST OUTRIGHT STATING THAT SHE DOESN'T THINK HE CAN BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN AN ADDICT IS FUCKING HEARTWRENCHING?

Like i genuinely love cuddy soooooososososo much so much,,,,, i know the truth always hurts no matter what hoops you try and jump through but god its fucking heartwrenching. Its an absolute gutpunch when you take into account everything house did to try and become more than a miserable misanthropic vicodin-addicted bastard. And then one of the only two women he's ever truly loved tells him that his best is not enough. House could jump through rings of fire but it still wouldn't be enough because "that's just how you are." "I can change. I can be better." "I don't think you can." Dude im fucking heaving man

LIKE ITS LOGICAL!!!!!!!!!! ITS UNDERSTANDABLE!!!!!! BUT THE THING IS THAT THE TWO SINGULAR PEOPLE IN THE WORLD WHO LOVE HOUSE UNCONDITIONALLY (WILSON AND CUDDY) ARE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF THOSE ADJECTIVES WHEN IT COMES TO THEE GREGORY HOUSE!!!!!!! ENABLERS BY DEFINITION ARE IRRATIONAL AND ILLOGICAL AND I THINK ANOTHER REASON WHY THE BREAKUP GRABBED ME BY THE BALLS AND TWISTED IS BECAUSE I GENUINELY NEVER COULD'VE IMAGINED CUDDY WOULD SAY THAT? I COULD JUST BE IN DENIAL?? BUT FOR CUDDY TO COMPLETELY END THINGS WITH HOUSE AFTER HE RELAPSES A SINGLE TIME AFTER GOING DRUG-FREE FOR OVER A YEAR WAS GENUINELY UNTHINKABLE TO ME? LIKE UNIMAGINABLE

God its fucking me up so bad. Its just fucking me up so bad. The only woman you've loved in 10 years tells you outright that your best will never be enough and there isn't a thing you can do about it. That your flaws and your vices are inescapable and inseparable from who you are as a person. Who you are as a person is why she can't bear to be with you. You do everything and it's not Enough Gggod DUDE

And god the fucking parallel between the s6 finale scene and the scene that follows after cuddy ends things with house. Dude i cant even talk about it like ill actually throw up (is gonna talk about it) HOUSE IS IN THE EXACT SAME POSITION House is slumped against his bathtub orange bottle of vicodin in hand and staring at his palm where two white pills lie. The scene exactly parallels its predecessor and both you and house almost hope they both end the same way .House looks at the doorway eyes swollen and red but no wilson no cuddy no one comes to save him from himself and he forces the vicodin into his mouth like a man sentenced to be publicly hung wounding the noose around his own neck. The stark parallels between the two scenes are just fucking me up so bad god man i dont know. I sound like a youtuber rightnow but i am genuinely just so absolutely ruined and need to find solace.......................... I know theres no rationalising this kind of thing but do u think house truly is inseparable from his vices........... Do you think he could've been the life partner cuddy needed without leaning on drugs.............. I know house got better i know he can be better even without the aid of vicodin but is there a universe where gregory house could ever be enough for lisa cuddy. God idont even care anymire im throwing up part of my lung

[themoonking]

finally finished the priory of the orange tree after putting it off for like a year, and putting aside the fact that it's insanely boring, way too long, and the romance is lackluster, it certainly was a choice to, in a book at least in part about finding common ground and coming together, basically go "religion a is correct and good and its believers can continue on their merry lives, but religion b is a 100% incorrect wrong bad lie founded by a wrong bad misogynistic lying liar, and everyone who believes in it should convert and in fact we're going to end the book by heavily implying that the recently-converted queen is going to slowly but surely pressure the entire country to convert because their faith is wrong and bad". like that was certainly a decision that samantha shannon made.

[spacedlexi]

it honestly frustrates me when i see people reduce the ericsons cast down to "just some teens in the woods" acting like theyre no different than any other group of lone teenagers from other existing properties and treating them like an overused trope

it is sooo important to acknowledge the "troubled youth" aspect of the whole equation. theyre not just some random teens in the woods clem stumbles across. these kids were abandoned by their families for their various "difficulties" and fucked up by The System before the outbreak even began. and then once zombies started roaming the streets their familes never came back for them and the adults that were in charge of taking care of them just left them there to rot in that old boarding school (except for ms martin who was like their lee 🥺 the only person who ever saw them as the scared traumatized kids they were and died protecting them)

the whole aspect of them already being fucked up by the adults that controlled their lives is like.....kind of important when discussing the whole "delta is stealing kids to force them to fight in a war they have no real part in and want nothing to do with" aspect of the season. and its important when comparing them to clem and her journey of also suffering at the hands of the adults around her forcing her to become self reliant. AND its important when discussing the "just trying to build a safe home (and future) worth fighting for in this world that wants them dead" aspect of the season as well

these kids were forced to come together to survive. and a Lot of them didnt... theyre the only family they have left and you can tell that even when they argue with each other theyre still a close knit group who looks out for each other. theyre a Real family before clem even gets there (and its why what really happened with the twins and brody and marlon hits them all so especially hard)

all of this is what REALLY makes ericsons such a perfect home for clem. its a Real community of her True peers. theyre not Just teens. they mightve had a layer of safety clem never had by at least having walls to keep them safe. and having the benefit of the school being hard to find. its the only reason theyre still alive when clem shows up. but theyre also some of the only people who can Truly understand where clem and aj are coming from. and its why it hurts so much when they vote to kick them out. but its also partially why she merges back into the fold so easily when she returns. plus the fact that shes Really the only one who has any idea what shes doing. shes their rock and she makes them feel safe because underneath it all theyre still just those scared traumatized kids ("EVERYONE is scared, clem..." vi was Definitely including herself in that 'everyone'), and on some level, so is clem

they saved clementines life. and she saved theirs. "the school was supposed to help them with their trauma, now they help each other" its about the LOVE the COMMUNITY the SUPPORT!!!! and thats the shit that makes good zombie media honestly 👌

[puppyeared]

personal character design headcanons + brainrot

Note: the re-bound!au does NOT belong to me, it belongs to @chipper-smol I’m just not normal about it lol

[rinofwater]

Hah, so uh how to explain to my parents that I have reconsidered wanting to move back to the wannabe fascist state after all

[handsomegentlebutch]

My 3 little cousins were baptized today. "Triggered" is kind of a strong word but being in a catholic church again... I'm a little fragile rn ngl.