#and then when we found her she was mad at my stepdad for calling me

[savethepinecones]

adding onto the wild ups and downs of the day i just spent an hour wandering outside in slides and a sweatshirt because my mother decided that the best way to deal with an argument was to leave the car and walk around without her phone and hope her famously horrible sense of direction didnt prevent her from getting home. my stepdad called me because hed tried to go after her and fucking went into a-fib so i drove out to the car and tracked her footprints through the fucking snow- at midnight!!!- a solid half mile while my stepdad drove around trying to find her

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for calling my nan to get me when I wasn’t sure about walking home?

This happened about a year ago, but it still eats at me. I have no idea whether I was actually in the wrong, and so far that day has been one of the worst in my life so far (for several reasons). I should also state that I am autistic, so this may give a frame of reference to how I think.

So, to make a long beginning of a story short, I went on the wrong school bus and when I realized it, I got off on a somewhat unfamiliar street. I’d been driven past it before on many, many occasions, but it was still very alien to me. I call my mom, video called her to show her where I was, that sorta stuff. I should mention, I was also walking down the street while on video call, just to show my surroundings. This is like.. a smidge important later I guess.

Now, here’s where it starts to get a bit bad— I ask if she can send my stepdad to come get me, but she says that I should walk home, considering it was kinda short. The thing was… it was around 4 km? I think? Not only was that the farthest distance I’ve ever had to walk to my house, I’ve only ever walked close to that distance on hikes and walks around this one pond, and I didn’t have a book bag to carry then. It wasn’t a distance I was used to walking, plus I was in a spot that was a bit unfamiliar to me. I was a bit put off by the idea and just was like “uh.. ok” before hanging up. I should mention I was overweight (still am) and got overheated easier than most, but I feel like I’d still be at least hesitant to do it if I wasn’t those things.

So, this is the part that’s the reason I’m sending this ask in the first place. I called my nan to pick me up. It was a sound reason to do so in my mind, being a pretty far walking distance from my house in a somewhat unfamiliar area. While I was waiting, my mom found out that I called my nan to pick me up. She seemed just a tad upset at the time, but I brushed it off as something that could be cleared up easily.

Christ upon a Ritz, I was wrong.

She was actually *mad*, and even when I got home I didn’t know how mad. I was told that I shouldn’t do that by both mom and stepdad when I got home, and when we had dinner that evening the atmosphere was so bad I almost cried afterwards, and the whole time I was home I could occasionally hear them talk about what I did.

Wasn’t the worst part tho.

At some point I was called out into the kitchen, and you know what happened? My mother just verbally tore into me. About how I had took advantage of/used my grandma (don’t remember exact wording), how I had lied (unintentionally), a lot of stuff that made me cry very quickly (which she also got mad at me for). I think she may have gotten mad with my grandma too, but I don’t exactly remember. I have a bad memory. Either way, I felt worse than garbage by the time she was done shouting at me. By the way, my stepdad was there the entire time and not once did he even think to go “hey, you’re going a little hard there” or something.

And that’s not all! She even went through my messages to my nan where I was talking to her about how she had gotten mad at me and how bad I felt.

Anyway, I decided to go to bed early that night because I just wanted the day to end. Something else happened later that night tho but it’s not related to the story nor do I want to talk about it.

The aftermath is that even a year later I don’t feel like I can talk to my mom about a lot of things, and I’m kinda scared of making her mad. I think I’ve become a little more doormat-y in just not ever expressing my feelings at certain things my family does.

But… I do wonder if I actually was the asshole. I genuinely meant no harm, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do any.

So was I the asshole then?

What are these acronyms?

[baelpenrose]

Nihilus Rex 29: Confessions, Part I: The Priest and the Sinner

Nils confronts his grief about Jessie, and grapples with his fading faith. This chapter, along with two others threaded throughout the story, are meant as critical character studies of who Nils is as a person, and while they are part of the larger story, the chapters titled "confessions" also function as a micro story unto themselves.

Beta-read and co-written by @canyouhearthelight.

For the life of me, I cannot remember

What made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise

For the life of me, I cannot believe

We'd ever die for these sins, we were merely freshmen

The Verve Pipe “Freshmen Song”

Nils

I was troubled when I went home. After Lash and I split, we agreed to call the next day and talk through some stuff, but I had promised my parents I’d call. And…I still needed to check in on Jessie’s family. I had been missing my every-other-week checkin for a while. Maybe a long while. Between Lash and everything else I’d been doing, it almost felt like….

Oh god, I don’t know if I’d checked since the heist.

So I went by their house, after buying flowers and ready to make all apologies. I knocked, slowly. “Mrs. Parson, it’s Nils. I’m…” I felt a wash of guilt. Why should they let me in? I’d all but forgotten them in my own grief and the madness that had followed it. “I’m sorry I left for a while. I got caught up in something. And I’m sorry for everything else. I should have been here sooner. I should have been with Jessie more.” The door was still closed.

I knocked again. “I don’t know if you’re even home. But I want you to know I’m sorry. I should have kept coming, way longer than I did.”

The door opened, and Mrs. Parson stood before me. Despite being slightly younger than my mother, she looked older. Her chronic illness, the marks of longtime working-class life, and the grief of her daughter’s death had taken their toll. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

I felt the words like a slap, but I took them. And I suddenly felt a flash of anger that always preceded things that shouldn’t be said, things that couldn’t be taken back. Jessie wouldn’t have wanted me to say the things I was going to say. Jessie had forgiven these people, wanted to take care of these people, would have wanted me to take care of these people, would be angry that I had failed to check in. I had already failed to deal with the student debts in time.

But Jessie wasn’t here and I was going to fail her again. All the things that we’d told each other, about mental health breakdowns, about crises of faith, about problems with parents…

“Speaking of people who shouldn’t have come back. How’s the stepson?”

Mrs. Parsons blanched. She’d remarried not long after Jessie’s father had walked out on her to the anger of the church, and found a new guy whose wife had died some years before.  Jessie’s stepdad was actually a pretty standup guy - he’d fumbled once, in the immediate reaction of finding out about what his son had done, but even Jessie had believed in the aftermath that it was a matter of shock more than a matter of not believing her, and he had done more or less the right things once he’d gotten a chance to get his wits back. It didn’t change the fact that the initial failure, especially given that her mom had desperately been trying to play peacemaker, had definitely compounded the trauma. Her stepbrother, on the other hand, was an abusive jackass that Jessie had definitely been pressured to forgive a little too fast, and somewhere along my little revolution was going to be a bonus objective of ensuring he didn’t live to see the new world. 

“Jessie forgave him.” She sounded half like she was trying to convince herself. 

“Hm. Did she think she had a choice?” I knew the answer, I wondered if this woman did. Jessie thought she did, but that only forgiveness was the right one, because she had always believed, more fervently than I ever had, in the forgiveness of Christ.  I also knew that the dissonance of that hadn’t helped her, had rattled her, had convinced her she was falling short if she was still angry.

And I was ready to bite, especially when Mrs. Parsons then pivoted. “And you? You’ve had choices recently. What’s your new girl’s name? Elakshi? The one you went on air with at the hospital? You moved on fast.”

 I gaped. “Moving on fast…I mean, you want to talk about moving on, I probably shouldn’t have let it slide that you were so scared of your second husband moving on like the first at the first sign of trouble that you didn’t want Jessie talking about what your stepson was doing. Mind you, Mr. Parsons fucked up when he first found out, and as bad as it was even then he wound up doing the right thing once he’d taken a second. I can forgive shock a lot better than I can forgive forced martyrdom. Don’t talk to me about moving on from anything too fast when you weren’t willing to deal with something to begin with. You can call it the forgiveness of God all you want, but be real: you wanted to dodge the stigma of a second divorce. The fact that she dropped out of college to try to help you with your sickness is beyond me.” The snarl, the hate, the sudden surge of helpless rage I’d always felt at never quite being able to express what I’d wanted to to Jessie because she wouldn’t have heard it and it wouldn’t have helped, things I should have said but couldn’t, things I maybe should have said because they maybe could have helped, but now I’d never know…

She glared. “Jessie thought you loved her!” 

“JESSIE AND I NEVER DATED!” I suddenly shouted. “NOT BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO BUT BECAUSE SHE SAID SHE THOUGHT WE WERE BETTER OFF AS FRIENDS! I WASN’T MOVING ON FROM HER! WE WERE NEVER TOGETHER!”

“SHE LIED!” I paused at that, and she kept going. “She lied, Nils. She lied, because she knew that you were the kind of person to go all the way to the wall for something, for someone, and she also knew that if you two ever got together, you could get her to go with you.” Her voice grew quiet, but carried on, determined, and I almost strained to hear the cold drumbeat of words that left me numb. “And she knew that you wanted to go places, that you didn’t want to be stuck dealing with her family, or yours, or the church you’ve always wobbled on but that she always believed in, and knew that you would care about her but probably never actually be happy with her without one of you changing the other too much to recognize.” A sigh, and she rubbed her arms with her hands. “So she lied, and you didn’t recognize it enough to realize that she reciprocated how you felt. I had to watch you two pining for each other from the time you were little and then I watched the boy who comforted my daughter through all sorts of awful things I fucked up with and can never forgive myself for drop off the map weeks after she died.” Her voice shook before she steadied and continued, steely. “And then you showed up on TV with your new girlfriend. So don’t tell me how she felt forced to do anything because you were never able to figure out her feelings well enough to guess how her beliefs and feelings impacted what she did.” 

She took the flowers from me while I was still reeling. “Thank you for the flowers. I’m sure Jessie would forgive you, and I have no doubt you’re doing something that would either thrill her or horrify her. That stunt at the hospital was enough of a hint. But I can’t forgive you for vanishing. And I understand if you can’t forgive how badly I did when she needed me. Don’t come by again.” 

I nodded. “I understand. Oh, and as long as we’re being honest? Your hunch is right. If you have any affection for your stepson at all? Tell him that he should try to make sure I’m never reminded he exists. Jessie forgave him. I don’t. God bless you for whatever that is worth.” 

I walked away, shaking, and took some breaths, slowly shaking, and the minute I was out of sight, around the corner, into my car, I closed the doors and started screaming. I pounded the steering wheel and howled for a second. 

She’d loved me and I’d never known. I’d fucked it up. I had…Fuck. Fuck FUCK!

I drove to the church. It had been a long time since my last confession, since the funeral, but I could stand to speak to Father Rivera. He was the only one who did confessions this late, and the only priest in the diocese that I respected anyway. He’d done Last Rites at the funeral of a suicide because he thought it was the right thing to do.  And…I had just made a deal with the devil.

First though. I called my mom. She’d always been the more devout of my parents.

“Hey mom. Confessional booth stuff is inadmissible in court of law, right?”

“That’s right, Nils, but…why?”

“Have some stuff I’d rather talk about with a priest.”

***

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been five months and two weeks since my last confession.”

“What do you have to repent of this time?” 

“Before I answer, Father, may I ask something and be answered?”

“Yes.” Father Rivera sounded confused. I’d already looked up the answer to this, and asked my mother this, just to be sure. I wanted to ensure I could trust Rivera, though I was pretty sure he wouldn’t squeak, it was good to know that it would mean nothing if he did.

“Is what I say in here protected by the Seal of Confession, and are you bound by the sanctity of the sacraments to reveal nothing of what I say to anyone?”

“I can say nothing of what is said here to anyone provided that you are confessing sins you have already committed. If you confess a sin you are currently planning to commit, and thus are unrepentant of, that is not within the Seal of Confession.”

I thought about that. A tacit warning and an admission.

“Okay. Then I will say this. I have slain nine men. Six by mistake, three in retribution. I have stolen - but profited nothing, and I do not count the theft among my sins, because I believe the word of Christ argues that my actions there were in fact holy in nature. I have lied, and brought shame to the name of my father, but in so doing brought safety to the sick. I have sinned, sexually, beyond what we spoke of the last…every confession I’ve been in, actually.”

Father Rivera’s voice came across. “Stop, stop. Nils, you confessed something very, very serious, followed by something that I want to question, followed by something I already suspected and the whole city got without context, followed by something that I already knew because of the girl you appeared on local TV with and that I know you aren’t remotely repentant about because you confess some new sexual sin every time you do this.” He took a breath. “Also, Nils. You forget I was a young man for years before I took Holy Orders. You aren’t confessing on that last one, because I know you too well to think you’re repentant. You’re bragging. Stop.” 

I took a breath. “Murder first, then?”

“Killing first. When you say you killed nine, six by mistake, three by retribution. How?”

“I manipulated people into situations where they’d be killed. Six of those were not deliberate - my design was not for them to die. Three, I deliberately got killed because they were involved in something that killed friends of mine.”

“You weren’t the one who killed them, though?”

“Not directly, but I can’t, philosophically, say politicians commit murder whether or not their hands are ever touched by blood and then deny my actions here were the same. Hands at the direction of my mind pulled the triggers, whether those hands were connected, physically, to my brain by my own nerves or simply by words and minds willing to trust me doesn’t absolve me, it just stains the people I used as catspaws - my guilt is increased, not decreased, at that point. I will confess to being a murderer, but not a hypocrite or a pharisee.” 

“No, and that is honest - as you’ve always been, in your way. Do you repent of the killings?”

“Yes.”

“All of them? I know you, Nils. I didn’t have to ask for reasons beyond the ritual if you regretted and repented the ones you’d done accidentally, but I mean the people you got killed on purpose.”

“Yes, I do.” I lied. “I believed it was necessary, but it was wrong, and I rushed to it in wrath.”  An advantage - now, Rivera would feel obligated not to tell anyone, even if he wound up being suspicious. 

“I’m curious - what led to your belief it was necessary?”

“The three I did on purpose were the ones behind the firebombing of the cafe. I figured that out through deceptive means, ones that wouldn’t hold up in court, but ones that involved manipulating their allies into turning on them. There were friends of mine in the cafe. Ones who didn’t make it out.” 

Rivera sighed. “Nils. It wasn’t yours to decide who should live and who should die.”

“I know. As I said, I was angry.”

“And the other six?”

“That ties into the theft. The one I don’t know was a sin.”

The voice took on an amused note. “Now I’m curious. Almost morbidly.”

“Is usury not still a sin? Did Christ not demand that debts be forgiven every seven years?”

A tone of comprehension crept into his voice. “Nils…are you saying…”

“I want it noted this time I am bragging less of the act itself than the skill it took to accomplish it.”

“I will take you at your word that that is not inconsiderable. I am still…Nils, my son. I want to confirm. The banks.”

“Yes.” A note of pride crept into my voice.

“Your actions with your father’s hospital were doing a good thing in a bad way, for Christ did heal the sick without indebting them. Your deceptions were sinful means - thou shalt not bear false witness. Your actions with the debts were forgery and theft on a massive scale, and yet they saved thousands of families, and it is…hard to proclaim that you have not, once again, done holy work by sinful means. The Jesuits would be impressed. I am not a Jesuit, I believe that the actions of flawed men that take the will of God into their own hands will often lead to dark places - the Church’s most harsh critics, not without reason, point to the Inquisition, the Crusades, the Residential Schools, all people who did what they thought was ‘God’s Will’ by evil means.” 

“And yet, should the ends themselves not be considered? Should saving people in the here and now not weigh heavier than the imagined ideals of ‘God’s Will’ by people so corrupt they believed they were right to rape? To torture children? What was it Christ said of those who took to brutalizing children in his presence? Something about millstones and swimming? He took a whip to moneychangers, He never took a rod to a child, that was a Proverb - and not quoted from His word.” 

“Of course, and the Proverb was supposed to refer to a shepherd's crook rather than a whipping rod anyway. And yet, the Great Commission - a point on which you and I have gone around a few times in your studies of history and philosophy - was from His word, and was how the worst of those justified their acts. But you’re too clever not to realize what you’re doing - your ends may be noble, but your means make use of the devil’s tools and those who do that will, by degrees, find themselves among his vassals before they realize they’ve lost their way.”

I didn’t agree with that, and wasn’t entirely certain my allegiance was to any particular higher power rather than an alliance of convenience with whichever one countenanced a victory over the horror I saw in this world. Then I remembered this was supposed to be a confession, and figured I should stop arguing - my goal was mostly to get things off my chest and keep from drawing too deep.

“As you say. Means aside, I believe that in the process of all that, I may have made something of a deal with a devil. There’s an associate of mine who I don’t like and don’t trust that I’ve been forced to work with, and I fear that much of my most important work will be stained by working with him. But…it was necessary to help those people.”

“Define ‘devil.”

“His every aspect is vile and his views on the world almost diametrically opposed to mine. What he calls justice, I call horror and what I call justice he would call perversion of nature.”

“How did you convince this man to collaborate with you?”

“For a day, we shared a common enemy.” 

“Ah. Many such partnerships corrupt good men. And you say your means have no risk of corrupting what you intend?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have the doubts I do.” 

I could hear Rivera folding his hands. “I see.” 

I could feel Mrs. Parsons’ words weighing on me. 

“And…” The words tumbled out. “I failed Jessie. I should have listened more carefully. She died because I didn’t pay close enough attention. It was my fault…”

“No. That I will not absolve you for, because that wasn’t. You didn’t know everything on her heart. She came to me regularly. That was not on you. There are others who should seek God’s forgiveness for that, and you have your sins to bear and repent, but that, Nils, THAT truly is not one of them.”

“Had I acted sooner, she wouldn’t have been crushed under so much debt.”

“And even if it was your responsibility to shatter the entire banking system to save a life, which it categorically is not, I will say that is NOT what pushed her over the edge. Not from everything she told me. That failure was more mine than yours. Nils.” His voice was strained. “Jessie’s death was not your fault. And if your war against the world’s economy is some act of penitent crusade because you believed you should have acted sooner, you should stop now, because all wars lead to men riding with demons, and yours is not necessary.”

I froze. Then I spoke. “I would like to repent now, Father. I’m done confessing for the day. Thank you for your guidance.”

“The forgiveness prayer, and then a full score Pater Nostrum and a dozen Ave Marias. The Rite of Penance again, the last one over the candle.” That last was unusual for Rivera, but I supposed I had just confessed to nine murders. 

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen.”

He finished at the same time I did, then I went to the pews and silently spoke the other, ritual repetitions. Then, I headed to the altar, placed my hand over the candle, and silently chanted out the prayer of Penance, trying to ignore the pain, and slowly pulled my hand out of the heat as I finished. It had driven my anxiety up, and I hadn’t realized the impact it would have, to do that, after the fire in the cafe. 

As I walked out of the church, I called my mother. “Yeah, Mom. I saw your other text. I probably should have…should have talked to you guys about her sooner. But yeah, uh…her and I are working together great. We met in class, but we’re kinda working together, on and off, on outside projects.”

“When do you want her to meet us, like formally?”

I froze. “Uh…I’ll talk to her, but I think she might be open to it? I had to meet hers, after all.”

“I’ll be there, Nils. Relax.”

I took a breath. “Okay.”

[princessconsuela120]

❃ FEZCO ❃

Chapter twenty-five: Motion Sickness—❃

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: foul language, everything with teotfw and with euphoria

Authors note: Enjoy guys! All rights reserved to the show the end of the f*cking world. This is the last chapter guys!! Meet Me At Our Spot will be up again soon, thank you guys for reading this wild ride!!

—❃

I don’t know how I knew, I just did. Something didn’t feel right. That’s how I found the phone, with 911 dialed on it.

“I killed him.” I spoke into the phone, walking out with a shotgun pointed at Leslie.

“I killed him. She didn't do anything. Stay where you are. He called 911.” I explained, making Alyssa’s face drop.

“What?”

“Baby? Baby, listen to me. I'm trying to protect you.”

“You fucker!” She shouted, stabbing a knife into his leg as he screamed in pain.

“Police!” An officer said, walking in. She looked kind, I felt bad that we were inevitability going to give her a hard time.

“You actually in the police?” Alyssa asked, making her nod.

“Yes! Can you stop pointing that at me, please?” She asked, making me lower the gun. “An armed unit's on its way. Okay, look. We haven't got long.”

“What is going on?” Alyssa asked, a worri3d look on her fce as she hid behind me.

“I want to help you, all right? Listen.”

“We need to go.” Alyssa said, making the officer infront of us sigh, standing infront of the door.

“No. Can't let you do that. You can't keep running. You can't. It's better that you hand yourselves in now, willingly, to me, and I can help you sort out a manslaughter plea.”

“Please, can you move?” I asked, my voice the weakest its been, seeing as i was extremely terrified of what could happen to us.

“No, you have to stop. Especially you, Fezco. You're 18 now.”

“What?” Alyssa said, turning to me with a sad expression.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

“What, today? You're eighteenth? Why didn't you say anything? I would've got you a present.”

I shrugged, niot entirely sure what to say. She was the bst present i could have gotten.

“I saw your brother yesterday. He told me about your parents. He showed me the picture of you two.”

Ashtray.

“Is he angry with me?” I asked, knowing the boy tended to get mad when i did dumd stuff.

“No, he's worried. Your mum's worried, too.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. I could tell she didnt miss her mom, but maybeshe did she just didnt want ti admit to having feelings.

“Yeah, right.” Aluyssa replied sarcastically, causing the officer to sigh.

“She is. Your stepdad's a nasty prick isn't he?”

“Yeah.”

“What'll happen to us if we do what you say?” i asked, making alyssa nod in agreement.

“Nothing too bad. If you let me help you.”

“Yeah, right.” Leslie snorted, making Alyssa turn to him angrily.

“Sorry?”

“Don't lie to them. They'll lock you up and throw away the key.” Leslie explained, making the officer furrow her eyebrows at him.

“Mr. Miller, that's actually not the case.”

“They will. Don't listen to her.”

“You called the police, Leslie!” Alyssa shouted, making Leslie raise his arms on defense. I noticed how she called him Leslie, I knew it hurt her she couldn’t call him dad.

“Whoa! I'm trying to protect you. From him.”

“Oh, really? It wasn't for the reward? How much?” Alyssa raised an eyebrow at him, chewing on her lip nervously as she did. I noticed the little things she did now, that’s what you do when you love someone.

“Look, you didn't kill anybody, did you?”

“He's right.” I said, goddamn he was so right.

“What?”

“I'll go with you. I'll hand myself in.” 

LWhat? No way!l Alyssa grabbed onto my arm and I swear my heart left my body.

“Listen, sweetheart, take it from someone who knows. You take after your mum. You have shit taste in men. Take the opportunity to get rid of this one.” She didn’t let him finish, instead kicked his leg hard, causing Leslie to scream in pain. “ Argh! What is wrong with you?”

“You want to know what's wrong with me, yeah?” She asked, letting out an angry huff of air. “You. You are. You don't care about me. You don't give the tiniest shit–“

“Course I care. Of course I give a shit–“

“You shouldn't just make people if you're going to abandon them because they think they've done something wrong their whole lives.” Alyssa cried, holding onto my hand for support.

“Don't give me that victim shit, Alyssa. We can all do that. "I'm anorexic because I was adopted." "I cheat on women because I wasn't breastfed." Everyone has a reason for how they behave.”

“What's yours then?” I asked, glaring at Leslie.

“Huh?”

“Why are you such a prick?”

“I love you so much.” Alyssa said, turning to me with a soft smile. I couldn’t help the blush that crept onto my cheeks.

“You know what? He's right. But I didn't come looking for you. Right? I kept away. I thought it would be best if you forgot all about me.”

“We haven't really got time–“

“Just give me a second. Why did you send me the cards, then? For my birthday. Did you even send them?” Leslie pressed his lips together nervously, making Alyssa mouth drop open. “Oh, my God, was it my mum?”

“She shouldn't have done it. It's really irresponsible.” Leslie hissed, making Alyssa run her hands through her hair.

“I feel like I'm going mad.”

“Hey! To be mad in a deranged–“

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stop quoting yourself!” She yelled, turning to the officer, her hand still in mine. “Will we go to prison if we hand ourselves in? Or juvenile? Will we?”

“Look, yes, possibly.”

“We wouldn't go to the same place?”

“No, but the thing–“

“No?”

“No.”

Alyssa sighed, grabbing the gun from me.

“I'm sorry.”

And then she knocked her out, and grabbed the keys to the boat, and once again we were running from something.

“Come on, Fezco, we have to go now!”

“Say that I kidnapped you.” I said quickly, turning to Alyssa. I had been hoping to protect her but I know with how stubborn she was it was no use.

“What?”

“Yeah. Tell them that I did it all. Then you'll be Okay. Nothing will happen to you.” 

“No. No way. We're going together. Come on!”

This had to have been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 

“I'm sorry.”

“Why?”

So I hit her, and then I ran. I tan faster than I had ever ran in my life. Faster and further, and I kept running until the oxygen in my lungs felt like too much, and even then I still ran.

“What the fuck are you doing? Fezco! No!” Alyssa shouted after me, now being held back by the police who fired shots after me. “No! Get off me!”

I've just turned 18. And I think I understand what people mean to each other.

[karlmarxmaybe]

ASKING FOR ADVICE TO HELP AN ABUSED CHILD

I know of a trans Canadian child whose parents are transphobic and abusive. He's at high risk of self-harm. I don't know much info about him (name, specific region of Canada he lives in) bc I only know him from his youtube channel. If you know how I can help him, please answer or message me. Details about the situation below.

TW: child abuse, neglect, transphobia, CSA, suicide attempt

Hello. I recently found a very tiny youtube channel that posts gameplays, tiktoks and clips of animated shows. It is run by a teenager (I don't know his age for sure) who makes community posts talking about his terrible life situation. He is a trans boy and his parents are very transphobic, they actively gaslight him and tell him nobody cares about him, they forbid him from talking to people and are actively infringing his rights. He also talks about being repeatedly sexually assaulted and abused by classmates at his school, in 4th grade. His mother's husband installed a camera in the living room and it makes him feel unsafe. He shows signs of PTSD and has attempted suicide various times. He needs immediate help.

I tried calling Canadian child servicies but they need to know for which region of Canada I'm calling and I don't know which region he lives in (I only know he's located in Canada from his youtube info). I am trying the Canadian trans helpline but it's always occupied. I don't know what else to do.

Please, someone who knows how I can help respond or message me. If you don't know how to help reblog so it can get to someone who knows. Please, we have to help him.

I have transcribed some of his posts below so you have more info. Again, trigger warnings for child abuse, neglect, transphobia, CSA and suicide attempt.

Post from a year ago:

I always thought that no matter how bad things got at home i would still have school and i wouldn't really get hurt or touched but not anymore | guess. So last Wednesday a boy classmate of mine kneed me on the butt and when another classmate confronted him he just played it off as a joke then today durning second recess a girl in the other __th grade class came up to me randomly and slapped me on the butt and when | told her to stop and leave me alone the boy from last Wednesday came and kicked me on the butt then the girl came and slapped me on the butt a second time and then ran. When | tried to tell a teacher that was on duty she told the girl that she's not in trouble and to just talk it out with me. Worst part of it is | thought of her as a friend and multiple people were telling the girl to leave me alone.

Post from 10 months ago:

Just found out my parents secretly his acamera in the living room and now | feel,unsafe? Now, idk if unsafe is the right wordbut once | saw it | started getting anxiousalmost immediately. | know it's just a camera and it's in the living room instead of a bedroom or bathroom but still, there shouldn't BE a camera anywhere anyways.

Post from 9 months ago:

My mom and her husband keep acting sexual with each other, which isn't unexpected, they're two adults who are married to each other but what | mean by this is they'll act sexual almost anywhere but alone in their room, mostly in the kitchen. So lately whenever | go into the kitchen whether it be because they called me or both my siblings name making me think they want me or because I'm hungry, and when | see them being sexual with each other, my mom blames me because "| should know better" then tells me about doing explicit stuff with her husband then gets mad at me for being upset

Think of what | said like a AITA reddit post, I basically just want an opinion on the situation

Post from 3months ago:

does anyone else feel like they're going insane due to their parents? turns out that a shit ton of the stuff my mother has taught me is just all bullshit lies that have ruined my life in so many ways, and my stepdad constently tells me that he's going to kill my cat and if i had blue eyes then my mother would love me. and that's not even mentioning the phsyical abuse or anything i've repressed. it all feels like torture but i have to deal with it because everyone has it worse then me and what if i tell another adult? they'll have to get CAS involed then i'll get taken away and put into a worse home and i'll ruin my siblings lives and the entire family all because i was selfish. but what if that was just another one of my mothers lies and it's none of that willhappen??? but what about all those damn documentaries and shows my mother would make me watch of other children that had been put into terrible foster homes?? that means it can happen to me if i don't keep my mouth shut but i feel like i'm slowly going insane and i don't know what to do, there's nothing i can do! do i deserve this because i'm a bad child? or was a bad child? was i bound to live like this? did i do something wrong again and i just can't remember it again??? what do i do??? what have i done??? i don't know anymore and i want this to all stop but the only way to stop it is death but that'll be selfish because what if someone finds my dead body??? what if there's still people that care about me??? then it'll be cruel to end myself when people still care about me because i'll make them sad. i've already ruined so many people's lives while alive i shouldn't continue it while being dead. or is that also not true? is none of it true? is everyone but my parents the ones that are actually correct? i really can't tell anymore and that hurts the most

Post from 3 months ago:

what do I do with transphobic parents?yesterday i had to be with my parents for about 8 hours as my mother screamed at me and told me a bunch of terrible things because she found out i want to be a boy and she refuses to see me as one. some of the things she said is that wanting to be the opposite gender is a mental illness, how she feels like i killed her daughter. she straight told me that she will never accept me and that no matter how much i care about someone nobody really cares about me and everyone will just forget about me in a few years and how the ONLY people that care about me is my mother and step-father. she also forbids me from talking to anyone but i luckily have a secret computer that I've been using to talk to a friend. do i just have to accept all of this? is there anything i can do? i'm not old enough to move out and there's no one outside my household that i can stay with, even if there was my mother would just put up a huge fight having me go back anyways. | don't know what to do, i mean as long as i'm not getting physically hurt then I should just accept basically being mentally tortured, right? | just have to survive 4 more years then i can move far away but i just wantto die more and more everyday, and i was getting better when everyone at school was being accepting but yesterday my mother destroyed all of it. honestly I'll be surprised if I'm still alive in 2 years, and I'm really trying to continue living for my 2 best friends and my cat but if my mom's correct and they don't actually care about me then what the hell's the point. i don't know anymore, please can anyone give me a sliver of advice on how to deal with any of this

Post from 1 month ago:

Sometimes I wonder if both my parents loved me and treated me like human being, raised me with human decency, just like they treat everyone else.

How different would I be? Surely I'd be better, right? Hypothetically? It doesn't matter anyways, | want to die so much I've already tried three times this week and when | tried to ask my mom for a therapist she said | don't need one, she literally signed me up for some sort of waiting list thing and when | finally told her | got a voicemail to call back she told me that | don't need one and started to guilt trip me. | fucking need it, if lanyards didn't snap open easily then | would be dead. The only reason I'm still alive is because the lanyard snaps open whenever | try to hang myself with it and I'm too tires to go searching for something better. | fucking hate this, I'll try to kill myself one night then go to school the next day as if I wouldn't be dead if it weren't for a stupid lanyard. It's stupid and I'm just making people concerned whenever I'm acting "off". Nobody would be concerned about me ever again if | was dead. How many things can | YELL before they finally listen to me? How many things do | have to do before they notice or know? And those statements, or questions, go for everyone in my life. It doesn't matter how much | ask for help or simply show are yell about how I'm not alright everyone just keeps doing what their doing and won't listen until about an hour later of me trying to show I'm upset someone finally notices and | say that | was literally yelling at them and they still didn't even notice me, when that happens they feel bad and start to apologize. For SOME people it now just feels like empty apologizes, while for others | know they have a hard time paying attention especially when someone already has their attention so they get a pass because it's not they mean it. But still. At this point does it really matter? | have a job, a purpose if you will, and that is to protect and care for everyone. But some people | don't want to take care of. | don't want to keep taking care of grown adults who hardly take care of me, but | still have to because | know them. If | die I'll only feel bad for my cat and my 2 best friends. I've lost everything else that made me want to live. My little cousin's, my grandpa, | hardly see my Nana and my mom's cousin/ my "aunt” anymore. | promised to myself that | would protect my cousin's and now they're god knows where and everyone else is some other reason, the worst part might be that they're not dead, they're still alive, | can cope with death much easier than abandonment.But it's whatever. It's life. You lose people and eventually you die. So what's the point anymore? | could kill myself during summer break and nobody but my family would know. At least my friends wouldn't be worried and sorrowful

Post from 3 weeks ago:

My parents took away my mattress, my bedframe is bars, | have no where to sleep buton a broken couch that someone has masturbated on SEVERAL times

Post from 4 days ago:

| hate remembering stuff so much, I've taught myself to forget all the bad memories, so much so that I'm quick to forget even the good memories. But now lately whenever | try to use my method to forget stuff | just remember more. | don't want to remember more. | hate it so much. | don't want to remember all the time's I've been SAd at school. Why the fuck do | have to remember that. | hate remembering what happened each time. | hate remembering being surrounded by several people and all they did was STAND THERE AND FUCKING AS | CRIED AND SCREAMED AT THEM TO STOP. | FUCKING HATE THAT | HAVE TO REMEMBER IT. THEN BEING BLAMED FOR CAUSING A SCENE OR TOLD THAT IT WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT, A MISTAKE. IT WASN'T A FUCKING ACCIDENT. THEY WERE TOLD TO LEAVE ME ALONE BEFORE HAND. THEN WHEN THEY ACTUALLY STARTED SLAPPING MY ASS AND | SCREAMED AT THEM TO STOP THEY FUCKING DIDN'T ALL THEY DID WASLAUGH. so it wasn't a fucking mistake. Infact they would've kept going and it would'vegotten worse if | wasn't saved by the bell. The people | was hanging out with just stared and watched. Out of all the time's I've been SA'd at school only ONE person has even tried to help me, Olivia told D to leave me alone beforehand because she knows | would never want that, especially unexpected and by someone who | hardly knew, even when D and M wouldn't leave me alone Olivia was trying to also scream at them to leave me alone and when the bell rang she ran over to me, put her hand on my back and led me over to our doors, led me up the stairs and helped me to find the French teacher because | trusted her. That was the only time someone tried to help. Not any of the times in 4th grade, and that shit went one everyday for 3 months! And at no point did anyone help me on track and field day, despite being surrounded by so many people all they did was watch or look the other way when | was pinned to the ground and being touched inappropriately by TWO people. So of course | had to fight to get back to standing. And when a teacher finally came over because | was screaming and crying,despite telling them what had just happened they just gave me trouble for causing a scene. | fucking hate all the people that touched me the way they did. | hate that people just stood there and did fucking nothing. And | fucking hate the teachers that just waved me off and said it was fine. | fucking hate remembering shit that | want to desperately forget

[broken-teenage-dirtbag]

don’t trust inconsistent parents. you can never rely on them.

my mom begged me to move back in with her after she left my stepdad of 14 years.

few months later, she starts dating a dude she knew in hs.

fast forward to now, kicking me out so she can move in with him while pawning off 2 of her cats to me knowing i haven’t been able to find a place nor do i make 2 1/2 times the rent for anyplace in my town. she knows this. but is still kicking me and my fiancé out.

mind you she chose my old stepdad over her three children even after she found out about the physical and mental abuse he put us through. even when she found out about my SH that was caused because he kept making fun of my weight.

and she promised me she would never choose anyone over me. no one. after i ran away because she allowed my old stepdad to continue to verbally and mentally abuse me.

this just goes to show that not all family is blood. after months of crying to her about how much i missed her she finally hung out with me. for one hour.

(some background) my mom ditched me on my birthday to go to dinner with her bf 5 minutes before we were supposed to leave. i called her crying and she said and i quote ‘you’re 20 years old. you don’t need mommy anymore’ the bribed me by giving me my late grandfathers truck that i’ve wanted since i was 10 when he passed away.

she bribes her children so they won’t. be mad at her. that may have worked when we were kids, but i’ve been over that shit for years now.

i hope she knows once i move out, i’m moving her out of my life as well. she’s toxic. uses me as her therapist but when i need her i get vague cold responses. she expects me to be there for her but is never there for me. it’s been this way for years now. since my grandpa died.

i just wished she would care. even a little bit. but that won’t happen. at least, not any time soon.

i wish my mom loved me as much as she loves everyone else in her life…

[magicalsliceofpie]

An Update

So many things in my personal life have changed since the last time I posted and when that happens it feels like I'm getting whiplash. I stopped keeping up with my routine and blog a bit ago because of finals. Then a week after finals ended, my childhood dog passed away. I am still devastated but the peak of my mourning has come to pass.

My dog was the only routine I had. When I couldn't leave my bed, my dog was there. When I didn't take care of myself, my dog was there. And when I was having panic attacks that kept me from sleeping, my dog was there. She never slowed down. She maintained her personality and activity till the very end. I was not with her when she passed but I live with family so she wasn't alone. I have no regrets about her passing as she was estimated to be 14 years old (rescue) when she passed away and she lived a full life.

I only regret how I took care of her. I got her right before I was going to go into 5th grade. I had been perfect all summer and so my mom said that I could get a dog that was smaller than our current dog. Looking back, I think my mom set me up because our dog at the time was only five pounds. Of course, I was a kid so I didn't realize how difficult it would be to find a full grown dog under five pounds. But the very first rescue shelter we went to had just gotten a pair of tea cup chihuahuas who were rescued from a kill-shelter. The dogs where about to be put down because of biting and aggression.

I asked if I could see the female of the pair and they held her over the counter for me to see. She was estimated to be 3 years old. She was a thin, shaky mess. I didn't see any aggression in her and I wanted her. They put us in the trial living room to see if we would be a good fit. When they let her go into the room the first thing she did was run under the couch. I remember being completely in love, looking at her shaking under the couch. She didn't bark, growl, or nip at me as I stared. The shelter worked pulled her out and placed her on my lap. She stood straight up but stayed still. From then on, she was my dog. I told my mom that I wanted to sign as her owner and I named her myself.

Years later when I was 17-18 our big new puppy stepped on her and scratched her eye. I had just come home from class with my friend (future boyfriend), and we were the first ones home. I saw her eye all bruised and swollen and I freaked out. I told my friend to call my mom, while I took pictures and sent them too her. I had no clue what to do but I knew I had to get to the vet. The only response my mom had was "I'm not paying for that, she's your dog". Because I had signed my name as her owner my mom was not going to pay for her vet care.

I remember being shocked because that was not an expectation in my house. My mom was quite wealthy at the time and never had my older brother pay for anything (even gave him a $200 allowance). But as soon as a got a job I was expected to pay for my clothes, gas, and college. I had paid for everything since I got a job but my dogs care has always been shared between me and my mom. I remember sitting in the vets office mad about my situation and my mom's ever changing rules about my responsibilities, and scared that my dog would lose an eye. My friend stayed with me the whole time. My dog barely knew what was happening, she was just enjoying the attention. I remember when they gave me the bill for $350 which was more than my paycheck. I paid for it but I asked my mom for just $150. She said no. Thankfully, the rest of my family found this completely ridiculous and paid me some money to help cover the bill.

I mention this story because a couple months later my mom kicked me out. It was so sudden and I was only able to pack a suit case in between her screaming at me. My grandparents had come because I called them during the fight and they were scared my mom was going to hurt me (she didn't because my stepdad held her back). I couldn't take my dog because we were all trying to get out of there as fast as we could. All I could think about was rescuing my dog (and getting the rest of my stuff). A day or two later I returned home while my parents were at work and I grabbed my dog. She had no clue what was happening. I don't think either of us realized that that would be the last time either of us saw that house ever again.

Since that night it felt like it was just me and her. A girl and her dog. She had always been my constant. Fifth grade was the worst year of my life mentally. It was the only time of my life that I was suicidal. Even through that, my dog was there. When I got kicked out of my house I would shake from just the thought of seeing my mom but I went back so that I could have my dog again. I don't have many memories of life before my dog. When I look back at any memory now I just remember that she was there waiting for me back home.

I said earlier that I only regretted how I took care of her. When I got kicked out I didn't know how to take care of myself or my dog. Since then she had only gone on one walk, and her teeth had only been brushed a handful of times (less than 6). And even then, the walk she went on was a couple weeks before her passing because my boyfriend suggested it. Also a couple of weeks before her passing, I finally bought her tooth wipes and had barely started remembering to clip her nails before they got too long. I hadn't gotten into the routine of caring for her yet. I had barely started this journey of caring for myself in April and she passed in May. I was barely starting to change. And it was too late. She passed away of heart failure. She was a 14 year old tea cup chihuahua with a heart murmur so it's not entirely my fault. And she did get daily exercise in the large backyard we have. But, I still can't stop thinking about what a horrible owner I was.

I should've been more active in her care. I should've taken her on at least weekly walks. She deserved better than me. She deserved a better owner than a twenty something who barely knew what she was doing.

So, I'm trying to be better. I have been working out everyday for almost 5 days straight now. I have been keeping up with everything in my routine. They only time I slipped up was when I didn't do one night routine because I was too tired. But I was too tired because I did a full day of exercise. This is the healthiest and the most routine I've ever been. Every time I wanna quit I think of her. I think of how she would've had a better life if I had just taken more steps. If I had just committed to being better. I want another dog in the future, and I want to be a better owner for my next dog. I don't know when I will get my next dog. Likely years in the future. When I do, I'm going to be the owner that Rennie should've had.

I'll miss you forever Rennie.

[mcjour]

doot doot doot gotta start typing cuz i'm losing my fucking mind

i'm feeling a lot of feelings right now but i never found a healthy way to express my feelings growing up so i kind of feel like i am drowning and exploding and suffocating and bottling it the fuck up as well.

also i am supposed to start my period at any moment now so i am sure that is only amplifying the emotions.

my mom and stepdad have covid. let's stop right there. because i'm sure my mom thinks i'm mad at her for getting sick. if you're reading this, first of all, fuck you for reading my stuff. secondly, i'm not mad about that. because i realize it's just chance that it was you. and unavoidable in this shit society we live in that doesn't take a pandemic seriously.

but i am still pissed about all of the circumstances surrounding it.

first of all, the awful timing of it all. i am due back at school in a week. i am not going to be thrilled if i have to already use up sick days in my first week back!

but more than that, i have been sooo looking forward to going back to school. i fucking love back to school season, first of all!! but i am finally happy and stable with my job for once in my whole life. i am excited to return back to that. not to mention that i missed the beginning of the year last year because i was placed in a different assignment. this is my first time doing kindergarten screenings, my very first first day of kindergarten. i am so excited to do it. a little nervous too of course, but an excited nervous. now that is all up in the air.

just a couple months ago, i had to miss the school concert performance and my birthday because i was sick. those were devastating losses to me. even though life is cyclic and i always have next year. that didn't make me any less sad. i was straight up sobbing in the shower to the point that my mom asked if she needed to call an ambulance.

and i think that is a trigger for me too, getting too excited for things and too happy about things and getting them swiped away in an instant. or getting let down. it's the city year trauma, the birthday trauma, all the trauma.

and i've been trying my best to be careful too. i heard about the spikes. i've been doing outdoor stuff. when i've gone to the movie theater, i've specifically sought out the 9am showings even though it is a pain to get up that early. i've been putting off a target trip for weeks because again, i don't want to get up early to go at a non busy time. i could be doing more and all that, i'm far from perfect. but it is a bit frustrating. especially since i knew i wanted to cool things down before school started to make sure there was no chance of anything!!! and here we are.

and it's also just what a miserable society we live in. because okay, maybe i am safe this time. maybe the week passes and i never end up catching it. okay. well i'm sure it'll go around school in another 2-3 weeks. maybe i'll catch it then. great. so what was the point of all this.

part of me thinks i should just intentionally catch it now and get it overwith. again though, can't guarantee timing and i would hate to miss work over it. and also, duh, covid is not something you play around with. i don't want to intentionally infect myself with something that could actually end up disabling me long term/ forever.

i also spent all of last week at school so i could still have this week off to have fun. blah.

another thing that is bothering me is the germs. generally speaking, i am a major germophobe and i think everyone knows that about me. so i already spend enough time paranoid about catching various illnesses. so this is like bringing it to the next level. because all i can think about is all of the germs swarming around me in the air. i feel like it is inevitable that i will get sick. and here i am, just a sitting duck.

and what really pisses me the fuck off is that they don't seem to care. and i know they do. they are holed up in their bedroom, they are wearing a mask when they have to, etc. so it's not that they don't care.

but..... they are still parading around the house. they are shutting windows. are you absolutely fucking kidding me. i know it's a little chilly at night, but it's still summer. it's not winter. just grab an extra blanket or sweater or something. you talk about claustrophobia? that's how i feel with the same covid air floating around the house.

and i am not sure why you guys need to be walking around the house anyway? i offered to bring food to you. but i guess then you can't cling to your theory about how i am such a selfish and awful daughter.

in what world does it make sense to stand around the kitchen for an hour waiting for the pizza to heat up.

literally i wouldve heated the pizza up for you come the fuck on.

i wish i could move around the house but it doesn't feel safe. because of the windows shutting and the repeated passing through. why would i stay down there. but it doesn't feel safe in my room because it is right next to theirs, so every time they open their door, the trapped covid air must fly straight into my room. okay, maybe not. but to someone who is wildly anxious about germs, it is hard to convince your brain otherwise!!!!!

like this week would be the perfect time to start building my new lego set. however, i can't really do it in my room because i don't have like a table or even a hard surface that i could work at. i usually do all my building of new sets downstairs. well. why the fuck would i do that. downstairs is contaminated.

i don't get it, i'm not the one who is sick, so why am i the one who is most quarantined.

i know i can go outside of the house, but where tf would i go??? first of all, i've obviously had exposure, so i would feel guilt going anywhere. secondly, i'm a homebody as it is. so i'm not exactly going to have fun going out for the sake of getting out of the house.

if you still read that whole thing, again fuck you for reading my private stuff. this isn't a guilt trip. if it was, i would say it to your face. i am just so wildly unhappy right now that i needed to get all my feelings out. i have been sobbing non stop in the next room. you wouldn't know that. you never know.

and that i think pisses me off the most. i wish i had someone i could talk to about this. i have a therapy appointment tomorrow, so susan will definitely be hearing it. but wouldn't it be nice to have an actual mom to talk to. who would hear my worries and not try to spin it into how i am coming after her or guilting her or how she is the true victim in all of this. i'm not saying i have it worse than them. covid is awful and of course i feel bad that they are going through that. but it's always a competition of who has it worst. why can't i also be going through something.

why should i feel selfish about having big emotions about this? this effects more than just you.

[khodorkovskaya]

06.05.23

two things:

i drank 40 year old coffee and now my family is falling apart

my stepmum called me and said some weird shit

story number 1:

so ive been living at my stepdad's old place for a while now and all his stuff is here. one time i ran out of coffee and was too lazy to go to the grocery store. so i started looking around the house if there was any coffee left by any chance cos when i moved in he had like rice and pasta and things like that and he said i could eat it.

and i found this weird looking red packet of coffee

ive never seen this brand before but since im a cheap ass i just thought that maybe this is some fancy brand id never noticed before. and without giving it much thought i opened it and drank it. it wasn't too bad, i quite liked it although it kinda taste like dust but i thought it was the chicory.

fast forward to yesterday, my stepdad was giving me a ride home and we were talking about coffee like what coffee based we like etc. and he said that the best coffee he's ever had was when he went to america in the 80s and stayed with a host family in louisiana and they had this special coffee there he doesn't remember the name of. he said that he brought back a bag as a souvenir and the packaging was red. and that's when it hit me....

my stepdad was furious! ive never seen him so angry before! turned out this coffee i drank was one of his most prized posessions! so he started shouting and me. my mum was there too and now she is very angry at him for shouting at me. so my stepdad is mad at me for drinking his souvenir, my mum is angry at my stepdad for shouting at me and i feel really bad! no one is talking to each other, everyone is angry and the family is falling apart!!!

i emailed the coffee company too see if they have any old coffee left in stock so that i could make it up to my stepdad. but i don't have hope, the damage has been done. so yeah. any ideas of how i could make it up to him????

story number 2:

my stemum called me a couple of times yesterday and i didn't reply bc i can't stand her, god forgive me :///

at around 11pm she called be again and i was like okay maybe it's something urgent idk, she didn't text me anything before so maybe it was sth serious. so i decided to reply. and big mistake!

she was drunk. i could literally hear her pouring herself one glass of wine after another. and she was blabbering such nonsense. it was unbearable. the reason she called me was ofc because she wanted something from me. she was looking to buy tickets from brussels to tivat for her friends and wanted me to see if the prices on the swiss version of the website were cheaper. which is a weird thing to ask in the first place plus like imagine negotiating with a drunk person. i was telling her that the tickets she's looking for cost around 500 chf. and she was like "look at easy jet" and i was like "i am on the easy jet website" and then the next moment she'd ask me to go on the easy jet website again and id be like womannnn that's the website ive been on this whole time ive told you a million times.

then she stated going on about how she's angry with me bc she gave me this vip person's number and i never contacted them. she never gave me this number! i scrolled up to see all of our messages from this year and she never sent me anyhting!

anyway, i was already regretting having picked up the phone. and then she started going on about my father and how his own family (sister+mum) betrayed him. and like. he's the problem. he's the reason no one in the family likes him. like you can blame it on exterior factors all you want but he's the problem.

ive been getting a lot of bojack horseman clips in my recommended (should i rewatch it? 💀) and there's one clip where todd is telling bojack that it's not the alcohol, not the trauma, it's YOU. and that's literally how it is with my father. he (moreso his wife) loves to bring up how his family wronged him and cut him out of their lives. but why did they do it, huh? it's YOU.

[bunniesovercats]

Sometimes when I'm at work, all I can think about is shitty things that happened when I was younger OTL I can't post about them anywhere my mom can see them because every time I wanna open up to anyone about my childhood I get guilt tripped by her crying and then I can't.

So I'm just gonna rant about it on here, please feel free to ignore.

Idk what set it off in my head today but there are several things I'm stuck remembering on loop today.

For example;

When I was in middle school, my mom with with this guy Jason. He was great to me, but not so much to her, and it got to the point where my mom started renting a house for us to move into and not live with him anymore.

So all our stuff is moved into this new house, we're staying there just fine for like a month.

Then the two of them make up, and mom decided to have me stay at his house while she spent the night there. I only brought my laptop stuff to keep me busy, and the clothes on my back because I didn't realize we were spending the night.

No big deal, I just sleep on the couch in jeans and a old Tshirt. That one night, turned into an entire week. I had to spend an entire week on his couch sleeping in the same clothes without being able to shower, and nothing to do but go on my laptop.

I had gotten so frustrated that I started stress crying and my mom was like ' why are you crying?'

And I told her I had been stuck in the same clothes for a week straight and wanted to go home.

She said something along the lines of ' well why didn't you say so? I could've gone to the house and gotten you clothes.' and acted like it was my fault I was upset.

Later on, when they officially broke up (I can't remember which of these happened first, I think I've got it in the right order.)

My mom was super upset about it, like really upset. I came home from school one day and found her on the couch, with a pot full of puke in it next to her on the floor. Her friend had taken her drinking, and she had gotten so drunk she couldn't get up off the couch without needing to puke in the bucket.

She was crying and screaming like crazy about him hurting her like this (the breakup) and demanded (through drunken slurring and sobbing) that I text him and tell him what was going on and how it was his fault. I said I didn't want to do that, and she screamed at me to do it, then when I didn't respond because I was panicking, she yelled at me to give her my phone.

I think she passed out after that, and I ended up calling one of her friends to come help me because as a 13/14 year old I had no idea what to do. We ended up spending the night over an hour away from home and I missed school the next day.

Didn't get an apology for that but I could tell her friend was mad at her for doing something so stupid.

Later on, el and I were at my house when she got home from work. We had school the next day but it wasn't unusual for us to stay at one another's house since we went to school together. Well she's drunk again, and going on and on about how Jason won't give her her mail etc etc and says she's going to go get it herself. This was around 8 at night, and I'm anxious and freaking because my mom is about to go drive drunk again, and she laughs and says ' if I'm not back in an hour I probably got arrested!'

An hour passes after she leaves, I'm trying and trying to call her, no answer or anything despite the rings going through. I wait a little longer and el has to call their mom to pick us up and go to their house. So we turn off all the lights, lock the doors and wait outside for els mom.

After we get there, they try to cheer me up, we drink hot chocolate and watch that one tooth fairy movie with the rock in it.

Well we're laying down, I'm getting ready to sleep and els stepdad comes up and says my mom is here. My mom spins this bullshit story that her phone died, and when she got home she saw all the lights on and the front door wide open and she was so scared and what was I thinking she was coming right back.

She took me home, lectured me, and then made me sleep in her bed, then kept me up til like 3-4 am just demeaning me while still tipsy.

That winter she and Jason had another fight, and while driving the two of us home was hysterically crying and ranting while purposely swerving her truck around on the icy road.

Fuck, when we were living with Jason his dog pissed all over my mattress and they threw it out, so all I had was a wooden frame to sleep on. I ended up spending half the year sleeping on a pile of clothes in my fucking closet.

That's not even getting into all the other bullshit things.

Like when I was a second grader my mattress had a spring pop out and cut my shin ( the mark is still there, that's how bad it was) I cried and sobbed and she got annoyed with me when she tries to bandage it up.

Whenever I was excited to see my dad she would guilt the shit out of me and complain about how I 'worshipped' my dad.

Most of my childhood summers were spent being shoved off on a family member in another state like my grandma or great aunt Sally. If I complained, or cried, she would tell at me and guilt me and say how bad she felt.

During middle and highschool she would come home from work wasted and it was a 50/50 chance of her being mad or sobbing. Then she would say all sorts of demeaning patronizing shit. Especially if I didn't clean up the mess of a house to her standards. It was hard to do so since every morning she would trash the place before heading to work.

' oh Alex I live you, but you just don't get it'

' I could've been a model for Victoria secret, if I just didn't get with your dad or Anthony.'

' you could be a model too if you just took care of yourself.'

Mind you, she would complain about my god awful rotten teeth and poor hygiene, but never helped me form those habits as a child. Then she would actively take the fucking toothpaste to work with her and keep it in her purse??? Like yeah my teeth are rotting what the fuck am I supposed to brush with? And I couldn't spend any money on that sort of thing because the money she gave me went to food ( school lunches, dollar store foods to get me by). She also never took me to a dentist unless it was absolutely necessary; in the fifth grade most of my teeth had to be pulled kind of necessary. I cried at the dentist for like thirty minutes before they could start on me, and she got pissy with me and complained about how it had been like two hours and I needed to stop crying already.

I just- aubdizjwjoxndksks AUGH I'm so mad thinking about it all, I'll probably add to this later to get more off my chest.

[babybluebex]

no pressure at all! but if you'd want to write more stan!reader x tom I'd really love that

i literally FLEW to my computer to write this i love the concept of stan!reader so much ((also i tried second person writing here??? i actually like it a lot more than first whoops))

little one [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: tom holland x stan!fem!reader (y/n) ➽summary: when you find out you’re pregnant, you worry about how tom and your brother will react. ➽ word count: 1.6k ➽ warnings: angst, pregnancy, a lot of exposition that doesn’t matter tbh  ➽a/n: enjoy!! masterlist & taglist in my bio

Sebastian stood at the door to your room, just looking. It seemed like a lifetime ago that you had moved in with him, when you were just the smallest thing. Pink skirt and pigtails, toting your dolly with you. He had been young when you were born, but still an adult; he was in college, living in the dorms when his mother had called him and told him the good news. He remembered the day you were born: he had been sitting in a lecture when his little flip phone started buzzing in his pocket. It was his stepdad, your father, telling him that his sister was coming. He left the lecture early and made it to the hospital just in time to be the first person to hold you. He was instantly devoted. 

You moved in with him when you were six. His mom had told him that she needed to move back to Romania and that she planned to bring you, and panic had filled his chest. “No, no,” he said. “Sh-She just started school! She doesn’t speak the language, she’s making all kinds of friends here! Mom, you can’t relocate her, you just can’t.” 

“What else can we do?” your mother asked. “Are you going to watch her?”

A month later, Sebastian was your legal guardian. He came to school plays and parent-teacher conferences, he cleaned up your skinned knees, and he read you stories every night. The two of you had gotten into a habit of falling asleep next to each other, and it got to the point where the bed felt too empty without you. Too cold, too lonely.

When you were twelve, you and Sebastian moved into a new apartment. It was bigger and better suited for two people, and you got a big-girl room. You started sleeping in your own bed, but you had no idea the effect it had on your brother. He couldn’t sleep without you next to him, digging your heels into his back and taking up all the blankets. So, he picked his happy ass up out of bed and, making sure to bring his own blanket, came to linger in your doorway. “I… I can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled. 

“You’re a grown man, Seb,” you said; he was always amazed at the little lady you had become, a smart girl with a biting sarcasm, even when you were little. 

“Yeah, and every night for the past six years, I’ve had your feet in my back,” Sebastian said. He settled into your bed next to, and added, “Now, move over, munch, or I’ll drag you back to mine.” 

Sebastian leaned his head against the doorframe, looking at the room. The walls had once been pink but were now an off-white, more becoming of a young woman, and the band posters were replaced with art prints and collages of you with your friends. Sure, he knew everybody grew up eventually, and he liked you as an adult, but sometimes he missed the little girl who was missing her two front teeth. 

The door to the apartment slammed closed, and Sebastian unwillingly pulled himself from his daydream. “Hey, munch!” he called. “How was Tom?”

Back on Valentine's Day, when you told him about you and Tom, he was instantly thrilled. Even though he outwardly seemed like he didn’t like Tom, he knew that Tom would treat you like the princess you were. And, for the past few months, he had been. Flowers were sent to the apartment on a near-weekly basis, handwritten letters came in the mail regularly, and Sebastian often heard little giggling coming from your room when Tom would call you. He had seen you smitten over guys before, but Tom Holland was a different breed. 

After a date with Tom, you were guaranteed to be talking up a storm, but you were quiet. “Munch?” Sebastian called. “Y/N?”

There was a sniffle from the living room, and a meek, “Seb?” 

Sebastian’s heart fell, and he hurried to see you on the couch, the comfy tufted leather that Mackie had so highly praised. You were crying, your knees drawn up to your chest. “No, no, no,” Sebastian cooed and hugged you tightly. “What happened, darling, is everything okay? Did Tom say something? Did you guys… Did you guys break up?” 

You shook your head and opened your mouth, as if to speak, but a sob left instead. Your chest was so heavy, and you knew that admitting this to Sebastian-- to anyone-- would make it too real but the secret was killing you. You had known that you were pregnant for nearly a month now, but you didn’t want to tell anyone. You knew that your brother would say that you’re too young and that Tom would say that he had a career to think about. And, on a small level, you knew that was true. You couldn’t ask Tom to dismantle his life plans for you and a baby. 

“Talk to me, darling,” Sebastian whispered. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled and leaned into your brother’s warmth, and your tears became new. Sebastian would flip shit, you knew it. “I--” You started. “Please don’t be mad at me, please, I can’t take it right now--” 

“Hey, hey,” Sebastian said quickly. “I could never be mad at you. Please, talk to me. You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N.” 

You settled your cheek into Sebastian’s chest, and the emotions ran hot in your face and chest and belly. “Seb,” you whispered. “I… I’m pregnant.” 

A million different emotions ran through his brain at once. Elation, anger, confusion, and so much more. “You…” he started. “You’re--”

“I’m so scared, Seb,” you whispered. “W-What if Tommy wants to break up with me?” Your breaths came in quick, sharp gasps, and Sebastian held you tightly to try to ease the anxiety. He was prone to anxiety attacks like this too, and you had learned how to settle him down, but he hardly ever had to do it to you. You were so grounded, so level-headed and serious. This was the most emotionally unhinged that he had seen you in years. 

The sounds of your crying died away, and you found your ears full of deep whispers. You had learned bits and pieces of Romanian growing up-- enough to pull out as a party trick-- but could never fluently speak it like your mom and your brother could, but you recognized the sound of it. Sebastian was whispering Romanian to you in a lilting voice, and it took you a moment to place it. A song; a lullaby. Sebastian was singing you a lullaby. The sound of it eased your nerves enough to dry up your tears, and you sniffled a bit as you sat up, shedding your big brother’s protective embrace. 

“Look,” Sebastian began. “I know I act like a dick to Tom a lot, but… I really like him. I wouldn’t have let him stick around if I didn’t. I trust him to do the right thing here.” 

“B-But what if he doesn’t?” You whimpered. “Wh-What if he does leave?”

“If he leaves, it’s his own fucking loss,” Sebastian told you. “That baby doesn’t need anybody but you and me, right? I’ve got you, darling. I’ve always had you.”  

You nodded because, once again, your older brother was the wiser of you. You knew that everything he said was true, even if your whole body hadn’t quite absorbed it yet. Tom would be a great dad; and if he wasn’t, you had Sebastian. “Can you stay with me?” You asked, grabbing your brother’s hand. “I-I’m gonna call him.” 

“Sure thing, munch,” Sebastian said, and he settled his arm around your shoulders. His little sister, the same little girl that cried at Bambi and Bucky falling off the train, was going to be a mom. Where did the time go?, he wondered. 

The phone rang out quickly, and Tom answered it swiftly. “Hey,” he said. “I just dropped you off, is everything alright?” 

You took a deep breath. Your heart was beating so quickly that you could hear it in your ears, and you mumbled, “Yeah, yeah, I just… I have something to tell you.” 

“Oh,” Tom said. “Sure. What’s going on?” 

Sebastian’s gaze was fixed on you, and he gave you a prompting nod. “Tommy, I…” You started. It was real. This was real now. “I’m pregnant.” 

There was silence on the other end of the line, long and potent enough for anger to start to flare in Sebastian’s stomach. “Are you serious?” Tom whispered finally. His voice was static-y over the phone, and you couldn’t place his emotions at all. 

“I’m so sorry, Tom--”

“Sorry for what?” And then there was a laugh. “Are you really pregnant? Please don’t be kidding with me, you don’t know how happy this makes me!”

Sebastian gave a sigh of relief, and he wiped one of your tears away with his thumb. “I really am,” you told him. “You’re not mad?”

“Why the fuck would I be mad?” Tom laughed. “I’m gonna be a dad! I’m gonna be a dad, Y/N! Thank you, thank you! I love you so much, baby, you have no idea. Does Sebastian know yet?”

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s the first one I told.” 

“Oh, no,” Tom whispered. 

“Yeah, oh no,” Sebastian said. “Dating my sister’s one thing, Holland, but knocking her up is different. What, you’ve got an aversion to condoms or something? I’m gonna kill you.” 

“Hey, Sebastian,” Tom chuckled lightly. “Look, it was an accident--”

“Oh, ‘cause that makes it better?” Sebastian scoffed. “Jesus Christ, you’re lucky you’re not here right now--”

“Shut up, both of you,” you sighed. “Tommy, you swear you’re not mad?” 

“Why would I be mad?” Tom repeated. “I’m so thankful. Thank you, my love, thank you.”

[navalcriminalimagines]

“Hi ma’am. Uh—I’m looking for Jethro Gibbs?” The 15 years old boy asked to Ellie Bishop. Who’s that kid? She’s never seen him before, or heard her boss talked about a teenager. And she doesn’t recall how it could be link to any case.

“You are?” She asked, intrigued.

“It’s—personal,” the teenager said. Now, she’s even more intrigued. If he had blue eyes, she’d have asked herself if he shared DNA with her boss.

“I’m gonna call him but I just need your name,” she said, grabbing her phone.

“Harry! What are you doing here, bud?” Gibbs approached the teenager and Harry immediately ran into his arms. Gibbs hugged him tight.

“Can I stay with you today?”

“I—“ Gibbs wanted to tell him that he was working. But he was the sad eyes on Harry’s face. The kid has been though a lot lately, he can’t tell him no. “Let him call your mum, okay?”

Gibbs stood aside the bullpen while he called you, Harry was right next to him and the rest of the team came back. Tony and McGee stood next to Ellie, following where her eyes were watching. “Who’s that kid?” Tony asked first.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Bishop answered.

While on the phone, they saw their boss smiling. A real smile. And then he put his hands in Harry’s curly hair.

“Does Gibbs has a kid we don’t know about?” Tim asked.

“He has green eyes,” Bishop stated.

“So? Do I look like my father?” Tony said, without thinking. Tim and Ellie turned their heads to look at their coworker. “Yeah, bad example, but you get the point.”

Right after Tony’s sentence, Gibbs hang up. The three agents pretended to be occupied at their own desk. Their boss had his arm around Harry’s shoulders as they came back to the bullpen. “Harry is going to be our honorary agent for the day. This is Tim, Tony and Ellie,”

“Hi,” Harry shyly waved at them.

“Hello Honorary agent Harry,” Tony stood up to check the teenager’s hand. “And he is?” Tony asked his boss.

“None of your business,” Gibbs simply answered. Tony growled, unhappy about not having an answer. “Update,”

While the team updated Gibbs on the case and what they found, Harry stayed really close to the boss. Gibbs always had a protective and special warmth towards kids and teenagers, but there was something special there. Tony promised himself to find what was the relationship there, by the end of the day.

Abby knew Gibbs would entered her lab any minute, but he never expected him to come in with a very young special agent. “Abby, Harry. Harry, Abby. Lab tech,” Gibbs said, and both Harry and Abby waved at each other. “What you got, Abs?”

“Many questions,” she said, looking at the teenager’s green eyes.

“Unhappy look,” Harry whispered to her, looking at Gibbs that was standing right behind her, waiting for her report.

“We call it the Gibbs stare, here,” she quickly said, before telling her boss what we wanted to know.

Harry was impressed. We knew things about Gibbs’ job, just like he knows what yours, since you’re a cop too. But what Abby is doing is very impressive to him, he would love to her multiple questions. “Can I stay with her?” Harry asked Gibbs, as they were about to leave the lab.

Jethro definitely hates how weak he can be with Harry. “Okay but a few rules,” Abby and Harry listened carefully, “First, Abby, do not interrogate him. And do not show him weird things his mother can be mad about. And you, bud,” Gibbs took a few steps closer to Harry, “enjoy your day, okay? I’ll come get you for lunch,” Gibbs kissed Harry’s forehead and left.

Abby didn’t waste any time, “Okay, bud,”

“Nope. Only Jethro calls me that. I hate it, but it’s an habit now,”

“Fine. Who are you to my boss?”

“Stepson, I guess. I think?—I’m not sure. Jethro and mum has—“ Harry stopped in the middle on the sentence and turned around. “God, I thought he was standing behind,” he said.

“Does he do that outside of work, too?” Abby asked, super exciting about knowing personal things.

“Yeah, it’s like he has a detector every time we say his name,”

“Today’s going to be so fun!”

Harry has never been into sciences at school, he’s more into languages and literature, just like his father. But Abby Sciuto made it so fun that his curiosity was exploding. Pretty much like the experience he was doing. “What did I do wrong?” Harry said, frustrated about failing.

“You took this,” Abby said, showing a product, “instead of that,” she showed another product.

“Damn!” Harry said. And of course, Gibbs has entered the lab at the very same moment. He extended his hand to his stepson, “do we have to do it even when Joe’s not around?” Harry complained. “I’m not a kid anymore,”

“Fine, but don’t tell your mother. And—what happened here? A tornado?” Gibbs asked, looking at the mess.

“I’m definitely not good at sciences,”

“You just need a good teacher, sweetie,” Abby said. “You can come around when you need help, if your—stepdad is okay,” Abby grinned at Gibbs, happy to know that info.

“What happened in that lab—better stay in that lab,” Gibbs said, “Hungry, bud?”

Gibbs and Harry went to the diner for lunch. “Text your mum, Harry. She’s worried,”

“Dad broke up with Lindsay. He wants me to come back and live with him again,”

“Is that what you want?”

“No—yes—maybe. I don’t know,”

“Hey, whatever you want to do, your parents will agree to it. All they want is for you to be happy, wherever you are,”

“Even if it’s in Australia?” Gibbs looked at Harry, confused. Last he knew, your ex husband is living in California. “Dad had a job offer in Sydney, he said yes. And he’s leaving next month,”

“If you want to go with him, do it,”

“How would you feel about it, J?”

“It doesn’t mat—“

“It matters to me. You’ve been in my life for almost ten years now. At some points, you were more a dad to me than Dad was. And you’re my baby brother’s father. I care about you, and I care about what you think,”

This is typically what Gibbs doesn’t like. He hates that kind of conversation, he hates to let people know how he feels and what he thinks. But if someone deserves to know a little about it, it’s definitely Harry.

“For me, there’s no difference between you and your brother— Family’s more than DNA. It’s about people who care and take care of each other.”

“Stop with those sentences all made up! Tell me how you’d feel if I move to Australia,”

Gibbs chuckled. The shy little boy he met 8 years ago was now becoming a confident young man. “I’ll miss you, okay? Just like I missed when you left for California! Are you happy now?”

“No! I’ll be happy when you and mum stop acting like children, and finally give Joe a stable family,”

“Your mum and I are dysfunctional, but we work that way. Did Joe tell you something?”

“He’s 5 and he wants what any other 5 years old want; he wants to live with his mother and his father, 24/7. In the same household,”

“With his big brother too, right?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point,”

After a blank during which Gibbs intensely stared at Harry, “I didn’t see you grow up. I’m proud of the young man you’re becoming,”

Harry smiled, “Say it,”

“What?” Gibbs asked, his mouth full of his burger.

“You know it! Say it,”

“Nope,”

“Why? Why is it so hard?” Harry paused. “Look— it can be easy when it’s true. I love you, dad.”

Harry called Gibbs “dad” occasionally. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. Jethro remembered the first time he heard it from him and the first Joe said it. He felt the same for both. That’s how he knew there was so difference between his real son and his stepson. They are both his sons.

“I love you,” Gibbs mumbled, with French fries in his mouth.

“Didn’t understand. What did you say?”

Gibbs swallowed. “I love you, son! Okay? You happy? Can I eat in silence now?”

“Yes, you can,” Harry proudly smiled.

In the afternoon, Harry stayed with Gibbs until the agent had no choice but to go on a run for the case. Gibbs let his stepson with Ducky. The doc showed Harry around, avoiding the autopsy and corpses obviously. By the end of the day, Ducky and Harry were playing chess at Gibbs’ desk, waiting for everyone to come back. But when they heard the elevator opening, here you were, with Joe in your arms. The little boy got down and ran to his brother as soon as he saw him. You hugged your son tight. “How are you, baby?” You asked.

“I’m good mum,” he smiled and kissed you on the cheek. “I’m beating Ducky,”

“Not yet, young man,” Ducky stood and hugged you. “How’s my favorite Gibbs?” He asked to Joe, who was holding onto his brother like a koala bear.

“Say hi to Ducky, sweetheart,” you told your youngest son and the little boy waved at the doc. Ducky and Harry sat back in their chairs, Joe was still holding Harry and you sat on Jethro’s desk.

“Where’s J?” You asked.

“Followed a lead, he should be back soon,”

The four of you stayed together, talking about everything and nothing until the elevator opened again. This time, it was Gibbs with his team. As soon as Joe saw his dad, he jumped from his brother’s lap and ran into Gibbs’ arm. “Hey baby,”

Tony, Tim and Ellie were more confused than they were hours ago when they met Harry. Ducky couldn’t help but smiling big. Before anyone could say anything, Abby appeared with Jimmy in the bullpen. The entire team was there. “How’d it go?” She asked.

The team explained that it led to nowhere, and they had to go back to the beginning on that case. While they did that, Jethro stole you a quick kiss, and he whispered something in Harry’s ears. “Checkmate!” Your son told Ducky as he made his final move.

“That’s cheating,” Ducky said.

“Nope. Dad and I share one brain,”

When the word “dad” was heard in the bullpen, everyone stopped talking and turned like one man towards Gibbs and you. Your boyfriend laughed, and moved Joe on his back, “Hang on Monkey!” He said.

“Can we go to McDonald’s?” The little boy asked.

“Nope,” “yes!” Gibbs and you answered at the same time. Jethro looked at you, but you were looking at Harry with a smile. “Boys!” You said.

In a second, Joe was tickling his father in the neck, and Harry was searching for his car keys while you were holding his arms. When your oldest found the keys, he handed them to you and the three of you ran to the elevator. “Team work!” You high five the boys.

Gibbs’ team was looking at him, more confused than they have never been in their life. Their boss laughed and walked towards the elevator and his family, “Good night everyone!”

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Going To The Chapel And He’s Going To Get Married Leaving Her Heart Broken

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Bucky got married to her mother and the Reader realizes something that changes how she looks at him. 

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (f! receiving), blindfolding, face riding, handjob, light dom/sub vibes), possessive reader, a bit of angst

a/n: 18+!!!! SMUT!!!! NO MINORS!!!! I wrote this in like two hours because I really wanted to add a new update for this fic. I couldn’t stop thinking about how this would play out. I had so many ideas but I finally narrowed it down to one. So I really hope you like this fic!!!

You hoped that Bucky wouldn’t go through with it. You hoped after the shared nights you two spent was enough to have him call the whole thing off. Boy, were you wrong. He went through with it. The son of a bitch married your mother and you had to sit there with a fake smile on your face. 

It was the day of Bucky and your mother’s wedding. Your mother woke you up at an absurd time and dragged you into the car. You were crammed into the backseat with your aunt, Jessica, and Bucky’s sister, Rebecca. Your mother drove you guys to the hotel the wedding was being held at. 

It was a beachside resort, and they were having the ceremony on the beach. Yeah, your mother was using Bucky’s money to hold your dream wedding.

Your dream wedding was a beachside wedding, with a man exactly like Bucky. You dreamed about it since you were nine. You always dreamed of marrying a tall and handsome man and running into the sunset. Happily ever after. Well, life kinda fucked that up.

So there you sat at the front in a white wooden chair. You watched your mother walked down the aisle in a big white dress. It took everything in you to not let the tears fall as you locked eyes with Bucky. It was only for a second but it was enough to make you sad. 

Your mother stood in front of Bucky as they said their vows. Then they kissed and god, your heart shattered. Everyone cheered and clapped, you gave a small sad smile to Bucky. He looked at you with guilt filling his face as he watched the one tear fall down your face. You quickly wiped it away and clapped. 

During the reception, you downed flute after flute of champagne even took a few shots of tequila. Anything alcoholic went down your throat, but after five years of college, you could handle your liquor. You weren’t even buzzed. Damn, your mother for not having the strong stuff at her wedding. 

You had a glass of merlot in your hand as your mother and her new husband came up to you. Your mother hugged you and kissed you on the cheek, and Bucky gave you a hug and you placed a fast kiss on his cheek. 

“How are you enjoying the wedding?” Your mother asked, and you placed a fake smile on your face.

“It’s beautiful, mom. I loved the beachside ceremony.” You said and took a small sip of your wine. 

“I’m glad.” She smiled, and Bucky nodded. Then their song came on. Your mother grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards the dance floor. 

You gripped your wine glass tight as you watched them dance. You walked over to the small bar and grabbed the bottle of merlot and chugged it down. The people at the bar looked at me weird but I didn’t care. I finished off the bottle and set the empty glass bottle on the bar surface. Still, you weren’t fazed.

“Fuck.” You muttered and walked away from the bar. You were sitting at your table when Bucky approached you. He held his hand out to you.

“Do you wanna dance?” He asked, knowing that if your mother saw you dancing with him, she wouldn’t think anything about it. 

“Sure.” You faked smiled, and he pulled you to your feet. You two walked out to the dance floor. You placed your hands on his shoulders and he placed his hands on your waist, as you two swayed to the music. 

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, and you looked up into his blue eyes. 

“Why’d you go through with it?” You asked, and his eyes darted away from yours and to the side. 

“I don’t know.” He sighed, and you couldn’t help but dig your manicured nails into his shoulders. He stifled a groan and looked at you confused. “Why do you care so much. We were just a fling.” He stated, and you scoffed and pulled away from his arms. 

You stormed off and found your mother. You told her that you were heading to your room because you were tired. She smiled and nodded and told you to get some sleep. 

You took the lift up to your room and walked in. You slammed the door shut. You fell on the bed with a huff. 

He had a good point. Why were you mad? It was a fling. Of course, you didn’t mean anything to him. It shouldn’t have meant anything to you. Why did it though? Then it hit you like a fucking freight train. You were in love with your mother’s new husband.

You sat up on the bed as a tear fell down your face. You quickly wiped it away and started pacing the length of the room. You were in love with Bucky. Are you fucking kidding? You took a large sigh and ran a hand through your hair.

You were knocked out of your thoughts when someone knocked on your door. You knew who it was so you ignored it. You sat on the edge of the bed waiting for him to leave. 

“Y/n, I know you’re in there. Please let me in.” Bucky said through the door. You huffed and walked up to the door. You opened the door to reveal Bucky still in his tux and breathing heavily. 

“Did you run up five flights of stairs?” You asked, and he had a crooked smile on his face. 

“The elevator was taking too long.” He shrugged, and damn, he looked so cute. With that stupid smile and his hair never looked fluffier. 

“Oh, fuck it.” You mumbled, and grabbed him by his tie and smashed his lips on yours. You pulled him into your room. You pulled back from the kiss to close and lock the door. You then pinned him to the door and jumped on him. You captured his lips in another kiss, he caught you by the backs of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“You that needy, sweets?” He asked mockingly, and you yanked his head back by his hair and nipped and sucked on his neck.

“Watch it, baby.” You growled against his skin, and he quietly moaned as you tightened your grip on his hair. “You think it’s easy watching you walk around in that damn suit. Playing house with my mother. You aren’t hers.” You sucked a hickey on his collarbone. “You’re mine.” You growled in his ear, and he moaned. “Bed. Now.” 

He carried you to the plush bed in the middle of the room. He sat on the edge with you still in his lap. You ground your panty-covered pussy into the bulge growing in his slacks. You untied his tie and used it to tie it around his eyes to blindfold him. You pushed him back and his back hit the mattress. He laid in the middle of the bed and you hiked your dress up.

“What are you doing, sweets?” He asked as he felt you slide up his chest. 

“You are going to eat me out, baby boy.” You purred as you pulled your panties off. You straddled his face backward and immediately he dived into your folds. He sucked your clit in his mouth and nipped on it. You moaned and ground your cunt on his tongue. He thrusted his tongue in your sopping hole, his tongue licking along your walls.

He moaned against your pussy as you rubbed his bulge. You unzipped his slacks and pulled his cock out. You stroked his shaft up and down swiping the pre-cum off the slit. He groaned in your folds as he continued his assault on your clit. 

“Oh, god!” He moaned in your pussy, and you smirked then moaned, as he sucked your clit in his mouth. You licked the palm of your hand and stroked him up and down.

“God, you eat me out so good!” You moaned as he stroked the inside of your pussy with his tongue. You thumbed under the crown of his cock and he cried out in your folds, and that sent you over the edge. You writhed above him as your orgasm washed over you. He continued to eat you out to prolong your orgasm. Once you came down from your high you removed your pussy from his face and turned around to face him. You laid over him then removed the blindfold. 

“That was new.” He said, with a smirk and you leaned down and kissed him. You reached back and lined his cock up to your entrance and sunk down. You two moaned in unison as your walls fluttered around his length. 

“Fuck, baby. You stretch me so good.” You moaned, and he bucked his hips up. You started riding him hard and fast trying to reach your second climax. His hands gripped your ass as you rode him. He captured your lips in a searing kiss. He groaned in the kiss when you clenched around him. The head of his cock slammed into your g-spot every time his hips met yours. 

“God, I forgot how tight you are.” He groaned, and he smacked one of your asscheeks. You squealed in delight loving the sting that came with the smack. He smacked your ass again as his cock hit your g-spot and you went hurtling over the edge. You cried out his name in his kiss. 

He hit his high when he felt your walls flutter around his cock. He filled you up with his hot cum as he fucked up into your harder. He fucked you into another orgasm and you started squirting on his chest. Soaking his dress shirt. You slumped against his chest. You took a minute to collect yourself before climbing off of him. You walked over to where your panties were and picked them up. You looked at Bucky who was still breathing heavily on the bed. 

“You okay?” You asked as you leaned on the desk across from the bed. He sat up and tucked himself back into his slacks.

“Yeah, yeah. Better than okay.” He nodded, and you smiled walked up, and kissed him as you tucked your panties into his suit jacket pocket. 

“Something borrowed.” You winked, and then pulled back. “You better get back down there before my mother comes looking for you.” You shrugged, and he looked a bit disappointed but shook it off. 

“Yeah, right. I’ll see you around.” He smiled and then walked out. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You flopped on the bed extremely aware of the throb in your heart. Good job, you just broke your own heart.

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Taglist:

@honeyel @greeneyedblondie44​ 

[falcqns]

you're all i want, so much it's hurting ll

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Morse!Barton!Reader

summary: Bucky looks for you.

warnings: angst, angry Clint Barton, angry Bobbi Morse, sad Bucky.

a/n: am i gonna use Destroyer gifs for this entire series? why yes i am.

after leaving the compound, you headed back to your moms house.

you had called her after you'd calmed down a little bit, and she told you that you were always welcome to move home. you'd packed up what you could fit in your 2 suitcases, and headed out.

your stepdad picked you up, and he pestered you for answers the whole drive, although you refused to reveal anything. eventually, he gave up and took you home.

he carried your bags in the house and into your bedroom, before heading to the door. "where're you going?" you asked, and Lance shrugged.

"I'm staying at the hotel up the street. your mother is quite mad at me for going on a mission without telling her, considering i'm 'retired'." he added in air quotes and you rolled your eyes.

"i swear you two are like teenagers." you said, and Lance fake laughed.

"ha ha. very funny. i managed to get along with her for 12 years for your sake." he said, before giving you another hug and leaving.

you laughed at your stepdad, and settled down on the couch to wait for your mom, who came home a few minutes after Lance left.

"i've missed you being here when I get home." she said, groceries in her hands. you stood up to help her, and once you'd reached the kitchen, she pulled you into a hug.

"how're you feeling?" she asked, and you shrugged.

"i don't know. I'm upset that he doesn't feel the same, but at the same time i feel better having gotten that confession off my chest. it's weird." you expressed as you pulled out of the hug.

"it'll get easier over time. believe me." she said, and you nodded, before a question came to your head.

"why did you and Dad break up?" your mom smiled.

"we were doing a lot of spy work together. which, while it's my specialty, and he'd good at it, it wasn't for him. he was falling down a dark hole, and he made the decision to step away. he said being a spy in the aspect we were made him uncomfortable. i had to keep going once he left because that was my personal mission. by the time that i realized i was pregnant with you, i was so heart broken i didn't know what to do." she explained.

"i had originally planned to tell him about you, but at that point in time, he had met Laura, and i didn't want to ruin him so i kept you a secret. i never wanted to, but I was advised by everyone that it was the best idea."

you frowned slightly. she too had been advised that it was the best thing to do, and she still got her heart broken, possible even worse than you. she had to go through an entire pregnancy and the first 9 years of your life by her self, before she met your stepdad Lance.

was running away really the best thing to do? you found yourself thinking.

meanwhile at the compound, Bucky was on a mission.

he wanted to find Steve, so he could figure out where you went to fix his mistake. he spotted Steve at the end of the corridor, talking to Tony, but just before he reached them, he was pulled into a room by his collar, and thrown into the chair.

when his eyes met Clint's he swore. " oh shit."

Clint chuckled darkly. "yeah, 'oh shit' is right." he grabbed a chair and sat on it backwards before speaking. "what the fuck were you thinking last night?" he demanded, and Bucky opened and closed his mouth like a fish, unable to get any words out.

"my daughter confesses her feelings for you, and you just run away? i get that you might not feel the same, but you could have the decency to at least stay and explain that to her, let her down easy. but instead, you left her in a crying heap on the roof. and," he said, his voice growing louder. "i had to listen to my daughter cry and sob on the phone with me about how she doesn't feel like she's enough for anyone because of the shit you pulled! do you know how that made me feel as her father?!" Clint yelled at him, and Bucky was fuming at that point.

"as her father? really? YOU HAVEN'T BEEN THERE FOR THE MAJORITY OF HER LIFE! YOU DIDN'T RAISE HER! so why are you sitting here, blaming me for something that i very obviously regret, and want to fix? because I LOVE HER TOO! i got scared! i get thats a dumb fucking excuse, but what's your fucking excuse for not being there for the first 18 years of her life, huh?" he shouted, and watched as Clint only grew angrier.

"i didn't have a choice in that Barnes, and you know that much. that was her mother's doing, not mine. and i'm just glad that she was understanding of why her mother did it, and didn't hate her, and mainly, didn't hate me for not being there! I WOULD HAVE BEEN IF I'D KNOWN!" he screamed, and Bucky sighed. "and you say that you love her too. i don't believe that for a second."

Bucky's jaw dropped, but he was cut off before he could speak. "no. i'm speaking right now as a father, so i suggest you listen very closely." he said, and Bucky rolled his eyes, but motioned for him to continue. "if you truly loved her, you wouldn't have ran away. and don't say 'it was for her own good,' because that's bullshit. i used the excuse when i left her mother, and i've lived to regret doing that. you don't hurt the people you love. don't say you love her." he finished, and stood up to walk out of the room.

Bucky sighed in defeat. "i know i hurt her. i know. i knew the moment that i ran away, but i didn't know how to handle it. all i want to do now is try and fix it. can you at least tell me where she is?" he begged and Clint looked at him just before he left the room.

"she's at her mothers house, but don't go there. Bobbi is even more mad than i am, and she will beat you to a pulp for what you did to our daughter. maybe one day she'll be able to forgive you, but until then you're not allowed to talk to her." he said, and let the door slam behind him.

Bucky sat there, breathing heavily. he wasn't allowed to see you or talk to you, yet he was supposed to fix this? he didn't know how he was going to do it, but he was sure going to try.

[she-is-the-wildflower]

Faery Witchcraft 🍄

Tumblr is such a wonderful resource and I’ve found and followed so many wonderful and helpful witches. I thought my first post was the best way to hopefully get any help/advice/experiences without messaging a bunch of random people and driving them mad. So please leave me your comments or send me a message!

When I was a kid I grew up in a very spiritual home. My mom was raised hardcore catholic and she rebelled to the max because she hated it (got pregnant with me her senior year in high school at a catholic school). I remember her studying Wicca and Witchcraft frequently and our house was always filled with incense, spiritual stones, tarot cards, sage, etc. My stepdad at the time was a Henna artist at the beach and the house always smelled like it because he made it fresh every day and I was always outside with my hair braided and henna all over my arms. We hung out with tarot readers and fire poi spinners and people that worked for the Renn faire and other truly wonderful humans. But I was OBSESSED with fairies. I still have my collection of fairies (picture below of some of them) and my fairy books. I always sat in the garden with my flower crown making fairy houses and gardens from sticks and pots and left them sweets and talked and played with them. My room was even painted “fairy dust purple.”

I’ve also always been drawn to mushrooms and trees. The “singing mushroom” was my signature on every passed note in middle/high school lol. I remember being so distraught outside one day when I was a kid playing in the rain because the tree in our front yard was “sick” come to find out later the tree was dying and we ended up having to cut it down because the inside was rotting.

So after years of not embracing my spirituality and trying to find other religions I connected with and one hell of a toxic relationship where the things I loved my fairies and my stones (which I got rid of and I hate myself for it) were called stupid and childish, I’m right back here re-embracing witchcraft. Although now I’m older and I’ve been doing so much research and reading many many books and it’s just overwhelming and I feel like I’m starting from scratch. When I was a kid I feel like it just came naturally, now I feel like I have to do so much more. So what did you other witches do in the beginning?

I’ve also tried to sit down and take a hard look at that things that interest me and try to narrow down a particular branch of witchcraft that interests me. Based on my interests below...

Herbs, crystals, trees, mushrooms, faeries, spell jars, flowers, charm bags, tea/incense magic, Celtic culture (especially Scottish)

Obviously that led me to fairy witchcraft but I’ve read many a post about baby witches staying away from the fae and how they’re mischievous and “can kill you” but I’ve never had an ill experience with them, yet again that last experience I had with them was when I was a kid. So any fae witches out there do you have any advice? I’ve purchased the books below to do more extensive research and I don’t plan on attempting any contact with the fae until I’ve gotten a better hold on my own magick affairs but any advice is greatly appreciated on the subject.

The Fairy-Faith in Celtic Countries by Walter Evans-Wenz

Fairycraft: Following the Path of Fairy Witchcraft by Morgan Daimler

Enchantment of the Faerie Realm: Communicate with Nature Spirits and Elementals by Ted Andrews

Blessed be ❤️🍄

[clunelover]

My family is so dumb. So background as succinct as possible - my dad and stepmom got divorced 7 years ago (wow I had to look that up, in my mind it’s always “like three years ago?”) when he went on a really bad bender. For a while they had no contact but over time they’ve become friendly again and are fine to attend holidays together (big fucking relief because I couldn’t add another round to my celebrations). Mom and stepdad have also been divorced for way longer, my dad and stepdad are pals which was initially weird and now is less weird but can still get weird (more on that soon). Dad lives in town now which I was worried about but has been great, and so he’s able to see stepdad a decent amount.

I have a half sister from each remarriage, sister 1 lives here and is mom and stepdad’s kid and sister 2 lives out of state and is dad and stepmom’s kid.

Oh, and dad and stepmom (and mom) are all alcoholics, currently sober. Stepdad is not an alcoholic but is an Olympic level enabler.

So over the past couple years, dad and stepmom will hang out. And they ALWAYS try to keep it a secret from me and sister 2. And it will inevitably get found out and we’re always super annoyed - NOT because they are hanging out! I don’t give a shit! Well I do worry about their sobriety given that my stepmom is very serious about her recovery, whereas my dad smokes a ton of weed and is also into making himself poppy seed tea and getting high off of that (uggggh) so I’m worried that that sort of slippery shit could make him more likely to relapse and thus same for her if she sees a lot of him BUT EVEN STILL her recovery is hers to manage and I have no control over any of that and I would not and have not said any of that to her. Anyway, whenever this happens, sister 2 and I are like “we don’t care if you hang out but the sneaking around and secret keeping is really upsetting” but they just cannot hear that apparently and keep acting as if it’s them being around each other that we have a problem with.

So, jump back to Christmas...we didn’t see anyone except stepdad came over briefly to give us some cards and talk to us from the front stoop. He said something like “I just saw your dad” which was good because dad had dropped out of contact for Christmas and didn’t respond to calls or texts from me and sister 2 trying to set up a Christmas zoom. Eye-rolly but also not out of character for him.

Cut to yesterday - I was zooming with BFF and sister 1. BFF was asking how all our different holiday zooms and stuff went. I said something about dad being unreachable but stepdad having seen him. Sister 1 looked pained and was like “uhhh....your dad was with your stepmom” and went on to explain that stepdad (her dad) also stopped by her place with cards and then said something about seeing my dad and was being squirrelly about it and clearly had Something he wanted to say and with only minor follow up Qs let out that my dad and stepmom got together for Christmas but “he really doesn’t want the girls [me and sister 2] to know, so you can’t tell Meredith.” And she got upset with him for asking her to keep a secret and wasn’t sure what to do or whether to tell me but since it came up organically yesterday she figured she would not add to the deception.

Anyway...IM SO IRRITATED and also why are they so fucking stupid? Why is my dad asking my stepdad to keep secrets from me and then my stepdad PASSING ON that secret to my sister? Well, because they’re all people who have had some role in an alcoholic family system, I know that. Sister 1 said this gave her some insight into how mom and stepdad’s relationship must have worked (ie him enabling the shit out of her and keeping secrets!) You could argue that it’s not a big deal that dad and stepmom didn’t say anything to me about getting together, except for stepmom and I spoke at length about our christmases and everything she said was about being ALONE, sadness that none of her AA chums dropped her off a plate, etc etc. So, that’s lying.

I told this all to Jeremy and he said he’s most mad at stepdad because if he hadn’t put the secret on sister 1 I’d never have even known. I’m most mad at stepmom because I think of her as the most...emotionally responsible? of all of them, the most dedicated to her recovery, she’s who I’m closest to, and back when she had her relapse (she’s only had one that I know of unlike my dad who’s had a million) she was beside herself with guilt and fear that I wouldn’t let her be around the kids (well at the time we only had Edie) and said she’d do anything to restore my trust so that she could hopefully still have that grandma relationship. So shit like this feels like a big betrayal in that regard.

My first instinct was to text sister 2 to be like “WELL I found out why we couldn’t get ahold of dad on Christmas...” but then I reminded myself that that’s just more shitty alcoholic family system triangulation. So for now I am just going to sit with it. It’s not like it’s an emergency or anything. We’re not seeing stepmom so I don’t need to wrestle with whether I trust her or whatever (and I guess if I search my heart I still DO trust her...just maybe a little less 😬)

I’m also resentful because my therapist left her job in like October and I haven’t bothered finding a new one because I’ve been basically okay...but now I need to find one to talk about these people acting a fool!!

Phew, that was a long one.