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#i am now the sole person looking for a job in this house because my gf is too depressed to muster the energy for it.
crownedcroweprince · 4 months
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simpjaes · 9 months
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can we have a maybe part 2 of policeman!jake who takes you out on a few dates and you end up fucking in his car everytime, and later on maybe if you feel like it become something official???
police officer jake! x afab reader part 2 drabble // part one here
this is fluffy as all hell.
The thing about fucking a cop is like, it was fun while it lasted but he reminded you at the end of it, cum all in your shirt simply because he pulled out and didn't want to get any on the patrol car, that he really does have to start ticketing you.
When you looked sad, of course he was quick to follow up with a
"You don't need to commit crimes to get my attention, you know?"
And like, you liked speeding. You liked the way the adrenaline would rush solely for the hot officer that would always pull over and give you warnings with a flirty smile.
You guess it's only natural that he'd actually have to start doing his job at some point, especially after you already gave yourself up to him and ended the game of cop vs slutty crime girl.
You did get his personal number out of it though, which led to several dates where the handsome officer became a regular citizen in some regard. You saw his personal style, with his less combed hair, and his loose t-shirts and jeans.
Arguably, he looked just as good in uniform as he looked out of it. Everything about him turns you on, and he knows it.
With chuckles and smiles throughout dates when you turn every genuine conversation to get to know you into something sexual.
Like when he asked what you do for fun, you off handedly stated "try to get you to pull me over."
Of course, after each date he would also live up to all of your remarks, driving you around in his very normal car and parking in that same spot he had you the first time before dropping you at home.
Always the same thing. His cock pulled out of the zipper of his unbuttoned pants, and you as spread out as you can be in his back seat. Sometimes bent over, sometimes riding it. It really depended on the date.
It was nice though, seeing the difference between his polite and kind self try and talk through a date like he wasn't leaking all in his pants at the outfits you wear or the words you say to him.
After several dates, you invite him into your home. Which he rejects, solely because he believes he should be inviting you to his place. Which, he does do.
"Your place?" He laughed, scanning the way you rub your legs together in the passenger seat. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"
"The kind who will finally fuck me in a house rather than his car?"
He laughed at you again, fondly smirking at the girl he's grown so fond of.
"Well, yes." He admitted before turning the car around. "Would rather see your clothes on my floor though."
You weren't one to argue then, and you certainly aren't one to argue now. Especially with the way he has you in his bed, bouncing and moaning, feeling and seeing him in full for the first time.
With his pretty flushed cheeks and that same bitten smile as he watches you bounce freely, without the confines of car doors or ceilings holding you from moving too much.
It felt like it went on for hours, probably because it did. Over and over again. In his bed, on his bathroom floor, kitchen counter, living room couch. It just kept going, and going.
Every hour or so the two of you would be ready to go again, without fail.
And by the next morning, when you woke up in his messy and dirty sheets next to him, you realized it's the first time you ever slept over with a man you wanted to hook up with.
It was also the first time a man has ever woken up, smiled at you, and ate you out as his breakfast before making you your breakfast.
Oh, right, also the first time you've ever considered a simple fantasy of fucking a cop as not just a fantasy and perhaps more than that.
Especially with the way he drives you home, kisses you on the forehead, and stood awkwardly, not quite letting you go.
He wanted to say something and time was running out, simply because he genuinely did have to go to work and patrol the streets of people who aren't you.
You encourage him with another kiss, squishing your chest in your arms and bouncing slightly.
He laughs at your antics, wondering how someone like you could be interested in someone like him. His eyes staring directly at the bounce of your tits when he finally just says it.
"We should like, date, or be together, or something...i don't know."
Your answer wasn't a mystery to either of you, but still, he knew he had to ask. Mostly because he doesn't want any of his other cop friends spreading out into his territory and eyeing you down much like he did upon that first speeding ticket you received.
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shabbytigers · 3 months
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a dark night of the soul has hit, due to reasons.
got into a horrible catastrophizing spiral of realization that every single move i have made in the last five years and arguably in my whole life has been a Mistake and consequently i am thoroughly and irretrievably fucked
then i was like, okay, but setting aside a huge tranche of deeper personal shit and the moon falling out of the sky (which i am not getting into), most of my terrible horrible irresolvable problems of a practical nature* will go away or at least recede into manageable quiescence if i just get myself another remote nyc job
*briefly. saddled with a silly huge n expensive apartment that i rented when i had a nyc payscale salary and considerably more space reqs; now have neither, but cannot look for smaller cheaper flat because no one will rent to me because i’m jobless 🙃 kafka auflauf of a gordian knot, but another nyc job would slice right through it. (German job listings dire; there may be a strategy where i get, like, a job at a bookstore and qualify for a cheap flat, but i’m not sanguine about it)
unfortunately this is not quite a one-weird-trick fix
if i succeed, i have a new problem: the job 💀 i seriously have the screaming doanwannas about it
this is the worst job market i’ve ever looked in, my industry is going through something similar to tech with layoffs all over for the last year
partly in response to that, partly just bc the pendulum is on a natural swing away from all-remote, employers are pulling back on remote-friendly policies. which i need, unless i want to crawl back to nyc with my tail between my legs, and i still have enough will to live to not want to do that. have struck out a few times on this one stupid sticking point already
anyway
today i applied directly to two jobs online, talked to a recruiter about a third (no), “reached” “out” “to” (vomitous expression) two former colleagues at agencies that have plausible job postings, another who seems to be freelancing in Paris successfully, and an old manager who was theoretically putting me forward for yet another job last month
also: found a detailed english walkthrough for how to register as a ‘sole proprietor’ freelancer
also also: registered with a Mieterverein and looked up open clinic hours. someone is going to have to walk me through the ins and outs of the housing sitch
also also also: found a Pberg language school that offers a twenty-hour B1-B2 grammar course priced at only a bit more than the VHS charges for half of B1. I am into this. just explain me the damn grammar and check my work at the next class. queried them about dates, will see if the VHS has anything faster too
tl;dr i’ve bought a big stick. i’m all ready, you see. now my troubles are going to have troubles with me
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rustys-lodge · 1 year
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His ward Pt 2 (choice 2 )
Summary : After your little fight with Sherlock, you attempt to leave; The person that haunts Sherlock next is unfamiliar to your knowledge.
Warnings : physical violence. A little mention of jumping off a building.
A/N : It's very Mycrofty behavior...But it's also big brother in the 1880 behavior ?
Part 1 Part 2 choice 1
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"If." Sherlock's voice filled the room again. "you do step out of that door, the consequences of that will be solely your responsibility to bear." The softness in his voice sent chills down your spine, as behind it hid a dark pitch that...You weren't sure you wanted to hear again.
With two fingers slightly curved around the door handle, your eyes dart from handle to Sherlock. You rotate the handle.
"Your mother has done a very well job educating you. Inside"
Your hand is gripped tightly. "NOW." And before you get to process anything, you find yourself flying back inside the house.
Ready to fight him off, you lifted your hand up to attack him. But he predicted your movement, as you found your wrist violently swinging backwards, causing you to stagger back.
"Listen here, little girl." Sherlock growled, suddenly cupping the lower half of your face in his hand, causing you to gasp in surprise. You attempted to lean back but the grasp on your face tightened and you found yourself swiftly pulled closer to the demon haunting your brother.
You groaned at the pain pulsating in your jaw, finding it harder and harder to steady your shaky breath...
"I am not your mother." You flinch at the anger lacing in his voice.
She's your mother too you f-
"I will not watch you disobey me like that." The detective growled again, leaning closer to your face. "Do you understand ?"
You shut your eyes closed as a whimper involuntarily escaped your lips . You can't look at him. You can't be this person...This isn't you. You're not weak.
Sherlock lets go of your arm. And you quickly falter back, gripping your aching arm...Your muscles have been stretched too much...It hurts to even move it...Along with your jaw. But what hurt more was the loss of your dignity...Of your identity.
"You're no different from Mycroft." Your voice, although low, tinged with disappointment. "You're just like him."
Your words feel just like venom shooting out of a serpent's fangs, to Sherlock. You can tell because he lowered his gaze to the ground. And a sudden sadness stretched across his features.
You couldn't tell whether it was really sadness, though...Or maybe shame ? disappointment ?
"You don't mean tha-" All of that anger washed away. "I am solely looking out for you...After all you're my w-"
You exaggeratedly sighed. "Say that I'm your ward again and I'll jump off of this bloody window." A hollow and unauthentic menace is spat out of your mouth. And you just turn on your heels.
"I'll be inside." You informed him, heading for his room. There's no need to talk more, or to argue. What needed to be said was said. For both parties. The fight is over.
"I'll bring you t-"
"Don't bring me anything." Your voice first sounded commanding. But....But you reconsider. "Please ?" Low and bitter, you can't get yourself to be inferior. That's what your mother taught you ! But...she isn't here at the moment...She's nowhere to be found. So you'll just have to do with this.
That is Until you come up with a better plan.
A sigh is merely audible from behind. And you pretended like you didn't hear it.
As soon as you closed the door, you collapsed to the floor, sobbing relentlessly.
You tried to keep it quiet, to stop yourself. But that only made it worse. You just...You don't know what to do anymore.
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@czheythebard @bunny24sstuff It's here ❤
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Huh, sorry for the angst. I just love it !!! Which ending is better ? i'd like to know. I hope yall liked thiiis ❤❤❤🌹🌹🌹
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thebiggerbear · 1 year
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Only Ever Holding Onto You - Three - Same Old Shit
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A/N: Hi all! I hope you all like this chapter. Personally, this is one of my favorites so far because I love Poppernak dearly but also I wanted to delve into the reader a bit more. This is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.
Warnings: a ton of shit (literally)
Word Count: 7114
Series Masterlist
Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @rieleatiel
This chapter was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.
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You cursed quietly when you stepped in dog shit yet again. You took a deep breath to center yourself, knowing there was nothing you could do and that you would have a good hour or two of cleaning every single tread on the sole of your shoes when you got home to make sure all of the fecal matter was gone. For now, grass and a piece of cardboard that Poppernak hopefully had in the back of his car that could double as a floor mat would have to do. You opened your eyes and surged forward…right into another pile of dogshit.
“Motherfuck,” you hissed as you felt the familiar squishy feeling under your foot and the smell predictably wafted up to assault your nose. This place was a goddamn minefield!
You should have known, seeing the state the house was in as well as the makeshift garage. Not to mention the elderly age of the owners and the large lawn mower that clearly sat unused if the yards of rust covering it was anything to go by. This land hadn’t been worked in a long time; how could you expect that they would clean up dogshit where it remained hidden by grass that was long enough to wave with each passing breeze? Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops very carefully moving forward on his chosen pathway, obsessively checking the ground before he took a step. It just hit you that there could even be snakes in here and you could be walking through their damn living room. Son of a bitch.
“Hey Pepper Snaps, be careful! There could be snakes,” you called.
“I wasn’t thinking about that but now I am. Thanks, Y/N.”
You may have rolled your eyes and hoped he stepped in the next pile of dogshit instead of you. 
“Did you find Goldie yet?” An old man shouted from behind you.
You turned around to see Lee Knutson, a man in his eighties, watching you from his porch along with his wife Marilyn, also in her eighties. Both of them owned this property and they had placed a call to the police reporting their dog Goldie as missing. They were frantic and because Helena PD loved to pass calls like this onto your department from time to time, here you were, looking for a dog in a place that could double as Jumanji to appease an old couple who loved their dog more than life itself. Hoyt had passed the call onto you with a smirk, saying “You’re an animal lover, right, Y/L/N? Why don’t you and Pop take this one?” Based on her passive aggressive comment, you knew she was still holding a grudge about your calling the Feds in on the Avuna Pharmaceutical case. You knew she had it in for you before that but now, you knew she was doing everything she could to make your life even more of a living hell as punishment. Especially when Beau publicly backed your play; that just made her burn even more. 
Having no choice other than to send Pops alone, you found yourself entering the previously uncharted wild jungle of Helena, Montana, with him right behind you. You both were wading through shit and a yard that looked like it could double as an apocalyptic landscape because you’d had the audacity to try to do the right thing in a case where all parties were concerned. Something that from what you’d heard, Hoyt would have most likely done herself back in the day. You knew deep down though that her fury at you had more to do with Beau refusing to bust your ass than the Feds getting involved. You had decided that you would let it continue to be her problem and just do your job, like always. But damn if you had imagined it would get this bad. You supposed you should be grateful she hadn’t sent you and Pops into a dangerous situation where you might not escape unscathed, like exchanging fire with a perp, though the smell that smacked you in the face when you turned to face the old man had you almost wishing she had. You’d take anything else anyday over this crap.
“Not yet,” you yelled back. “But don’t worry, Mr. Knutson, we’re still looking!” You hoped you sounded more hopeful than you felt. 
It really had been a shitty week, pun fucking intended. 
The morning after the very weird night you’d had at The Boot Heel, Beau wasn’t in the office. Madge told you he had simply called out, claiming that he was taking a few vacation days, and that he knew the department had things handled. You thanked the woman and frowned at Beau’s closed door as you passed. 
You had texted Beau the night before when you arrived home as he had asked you to, and he wished you a good night, letting you know he was safely home as well (he knew you too well). That had been the last time you heard from him which wouldn’t be that strange if he had shown up for work. You forced your worry back down and told yourself you were fretting over nothing, this spike in nerves you had was just a remnant from the previous evening. Your compass was most likely still recalibrating. Beau was fine, everyone and everything was fine, he had a right to take his well-earned vacation time especially since he never really took a day off — you were overreacting. But just to be safe, you texted Emily to check in. She got back to you within a few minutes, letting you know that she and her mom had a full day planned since they now had time to start painting their new home that they had moved into a few months back. 
Carla had been ready to leave Montana after Avery’s death and Emily’s abduction scare but Beau thankfully had talked her into staying, for Emily’s sake, for his sake — all of their sakes. As soon as Carla sold the property she had shared with Avery, Beau helped her and their daughter move into a new home in a closer neighborhood that she was able to get a good deal on. You knew Beau had been relieved when Carla agreed to stay and you had as well, for him and for you. There was no way you wouldn’t try to follow him back down to Houston if he had gone, especially not when Hoyt might take his place where she could make your life miserable full-time and on the county’s dime. Just like she was already doing this week.
Emily promised to send you pictures of the finished product and you wished her luck, telling her to call you if they needed a hand once your shift was over. Em and Carla were fine; that just left Beau.
Before you could type up a text to check in with him, a quick meeting assembled that you had no idea had even been planned. Hoyt took charge and completely dismissed you, laying down the law for the next few days. She would be distributing calls and deciding who to dispatch. Which you found awful funny because that was bound to create issues with the system Beau already had in place. Madge looked slightly put out until Hoyt wrapped an arm around her shoulders and told her she would need the older woman’s help. You watched the entire scene unfold, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway, smirking and enjoying the show. It didn’t surprise you in the least when she approached you and Pops last with your assignments for the morning, a triumphant grin on her face.
“A couple of calls came in late last night that I’d like you two to follow up on.” She handed the sheet of paper to Pops who took it and scanned it quickly. “You don’t mind, do you, Y/L/N?” 
Your smirk widened. She was clearly challenging you, practically daring you to say something. Beau had made it plain to her and the department often enough that you and Hoyt were equal in his eyes. Neither of you had authority over the other one. He told you later when it was just the two of you that he had done that out of respect for your career and experience thus far but also to give you a leg to stand on when it came to Hoyt. He understood that she worked hard in her position as undersheriff and he wasn’t trying to take that from her but he wanted you in the department working with him and he wasn’t going to demote you to make that happen. You were more than appreciative of his willingness to not only take you on and keep you with him but also to make sure you didn’t go backwards in pay or in your career. You found out later he had even taken a slight pay cut himself when he brought you on board, which you duly chastised him for later, not wanting him to sacrifice anymore than he already had. The response he gave you was a simple wink and his usual boyish smile. 
So Hoyt and the department knew where you stood, something the blonde was testing right now because Beau wasn’t here. The department didn’t give a crap if she took advantage and lorded it over you as long as it wasn’t them, and she expected you to either fold or go running to tell Beau or something along those lines. She clearly didn’t know you at all if she expected any type of reaction she was trying to get out of you. Your grin matched hers. “Not at all.”
Her blue eyes narrowed but then you could see the triumph in her smile, thinking she had won some imaginary victory over you. “Great.” You pushed the urge to roll your eyes deep down, knowing that if anything happened with the department over the next few days, the responsibility was on her alone, officially. Unofficially, you’d keep an eye out during Beau’s absence and not let everything turn to complete shit.
Your smile grew so much that your cheeks started to hurt.
Hoyt began to say something else but before she could get a word out, your phone started ringing. You pulled it out of your pocket and the name on the screen sent your heart into overdrive. “Excuse me. I have to take this.” You didn’t wait for Hoyt to respond or Pops, but one quick glance confirmed she had seen the screen as well. The glare she was currently gracing you with was the glare to end all glares. You ignored it and stepped away as planned, hearing her snap at Pops to make sure you didn’t stay on the phone too long and to get out the door, before storming away.
This time, you did roll your eyes, and you picked up the call.
“Beau?”
“Mornin’.” He sounded okay though his voice seemed a little more gravelly than usual. You attributed it to the early hour. 
“Morning. You okay?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a few days.”
“Long overdue,” you agreed.
“Yeah,” he sighed. 
You glanced around and lowered your voice. “You really are okay, though? You’d tell me if something was wrong… Right? Like you coughing twice or asking me to take the pineapple slices off the pizza to indicate you’re being held against your will.”
He let out a laugh and that made you feel lighter than you had a moment ago. “I’m good, Y/N, I promise. Pineapple on pizza? How in the hell is that a pizza topping? I still don’t get it.”
“You would if you would ever try it when I order it.”
“I will never eat that crap. Who puts fruit on pizza anyway? Besides you?”
“A lot of the population in fact. That’s why it’s so popular,” you teased him.
“I’ve lost all hope for society.”
You finished taking a sip of your coffee. “Really? You’ve been working this job now for two decades and a yellow and very delicious fruit put on pizza is what finally did it for you?”
“Fruit doesn’t go on pizza, Y/N. I’m not having this debate with you again. Not this early,” he groaned.
“The trick is to get it without the sauce. That’s how I order it. It’s only weird tasting when the sauce is added into the mix.”
“If there’s no sauce, then how is it pizza?”
You snorted. “Pizza is all about the cheese.”
“And the sauce. Without sauce, it’s just bread and cheese.”
“Which incidentally are two of the most important ingredients for pizza.”
You smiled in victory when an exasperated sigh came down the line. “Okay, you win. So how do I get out of this conversation that’s happening against my will? Do I sneeze twice or ask for extra cheese?”
“Ha ha. You called me, remember that.” In your peripherals, you noticed Pops signaling to you and pointing to his watch. You nodded and held a finger up. Yes, you knew Hoyt couldn’t wait for you to go out on your crappy call list for the morning, and add more to it during the day most likely. Her pettiness could wait a few more minutes. Guaranteed, this was going to be the best part of your day and you weren’t giving it up that easily. “So, what are your plans for today? Have any or are you just taking it easy for the day?” 
“Actually, I’m gonna head over to Carla’s and help her and Em out for the day.”
A small smile settled onto your face. “Em will be really happy to see you.” And both she and Carla would be happy to have the extra practiced hand no doubt. You almost wished you could join them, to help Emily prank her father by rolling paint all over his clothes if for nothing else.
“Yeah, it’ll be good to see her, too. I didn’t get much sleep last night so I spent a lot of time thinking. About work, about life and…everything, and that’s why I took a few days off. I’m gonna try to convince Em to go camping with me over the weekend. I want to spend some time with my daughter before she graduates and goes off to college.”
“Don’t worry. You’ve got some time before that happens,” you murmured soothingly. You knew this was something he worried about, he’d told you often enough. He felt like he was losing time with Emily, that the window he had was closing more and more with each passing day. That feeling only ramped up after Em had been taken hostage. You couldn’t blame him; for the first few months after, you’d hugged Emily a little longer and a little tighter whenever you saw her, something she endlessly rolled her eyes at but kindly allowed you to do each time.
“Not much.”
You bit your lip, choosing to ignore Pops who appeared in front of you, frantically gesturing behind him. Rolling your eyes, you turned to the side, lowering your voice further. “I think it’s a great idea. I’m glad you’re doing this, taking some time for yourself and to spend with Em. To hell with everyone and everything else these next few days, you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled.
“And if anyone calls you from the department, I will personally run over their cell phone with my car. Twice.”
“About that…”
“Beau,” you growled in warning, walking away from Pops who was dogging your every step.
“That’s why I’m calling you. I’m not taking any calls from work for the next few days, especially if I get Em to go camping with me. I don’t want any interruptions and I trust that you and Hoyt will have a handle on things while I’m gone.”
You pressed your lips together, hating to lie to your best friend, but it was important for him to take this time. He never willingly took time off and you knew he needed this time with Em, even before he said anything. And for him to have come to this decision so suddenly, you knew he meant it. There was never a single second that Beau hadn’t made himself accessible, day or night, for anyone in the department. So for him to go radio silent intentionally for any period of time, he meant business. “Understood,” you agreed.
“But, Y/N, saying that…I do want you to call me if anything pops up that you think I should know about.”
And there it was, the caveat. “I’m not calling you, Arlen. Like you said, we’ve got this.”
“I mean it. I’m only available to you, Y/N, no one else. I trust your judgment and I know you’ll filter out most of the white noise. But also, if you need anything…you call me.”
“I appreciate that but we’ll be okay,” you reassured, quickly stepping into an empty interrogation room and shutting the door on Pops. You managed to wedge a chair underneath the knob before he could try it, smirking in satisfaction when the door failed to give way and he started knocking instead while calling your name. “And listen, I don’t want to intrude on family time but if you do need a hand with the painting, I can always drop by later, repaint everything you did, take my pineapple pizza I’ll definitely be ordering for a job well done, and go.”
“Hey! I know how to paint!”
“Yeah, you also told me you knew how to cook, too.”
“I can grill,” Beau snapped.
You heard the chair beginning to budge and you pressed all of your weight against the door, trying to prevent Pops from opening it. “Uh huh. I think the charred left corner of your deck would beg to differ.”
“Wow. That was one time and everybody was okay. When are you gonna let that go?”
“Whenever you allow me to call in some hot Helena firefighters next time to put out the fire and let me watch rather than making me extinguish the flames myself with a fire extinguisher I luckily had in my car that day. I was cheated out of muscles and sweat and big, big fire hoses that get everything wet….all that water pressure—”
“Ah, ah, alright, alright. Stop. Bad images in my head. Never coming out now thanks to you.”
You couldn’t help but snicker. “You deserve it. Now, seriously, go enjoy your time with your daughter and leave the department to us. If you need help later or if you just need anything, give me a call.” Pops was pushing against you and you were ashamed to admit you were losing the battle. Your feet were sliding against the floor as the door struggled to open, the chair having been lost some moments ago.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll let you go so you can get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay,” you struggled to get out. “Have fun. Give Em a hug from me.”
“Copy that. And Y/N?”
Pops finally pushed into the room and you had no choice but to abandon your post or be flat up against the wall. “Yeah?”
“Be careful out there.”
Pops was hunched over catching his breath, glaring up at you and pointing to his watch, mouthing “Hoyt”. You smiled sweetly down at him. “You know me. Always am.”
You hadn’t heard from Beau later that day but it was just as well. You had had the day from hell just as you’d expected. You settled down on your couch in the comfiest clothes you could find and binged Real Housewives of Dallas. You normally couldn’t stand these types of reality shows, but this one had grown on you and always provided the perfect distraction. That and Floribama Shore. Beau had been present for at least the first two episodes of the latter to which he stared over at you in disbelief, promptly got up to grab a beer, and told you that he didn’t know you. And you replied back that you didn’t mind as long as he was willing to bring a perfect stranger a beer from your kitchen.
While you were indulging in your comfort show, Em had sent you pictures of the painted rooms as promised. It looked good and you liked the colors she and Carla had picked out. You broke into hysterics when one picture had Beau posing in front of a perfectly painted wall with a smug smirk and holding his arms out proudly. Beau was so lucky you didn’t have the password to the department’s website; you would have uploaded the picture so fast it would have made Poppernak’s head spin. Another picture showed a great selfie of all of the family. You liked that one, all genuine smiles and plenty of paint all over every single one of them (Em obviously had taken your suggestion and started a paint fight, you were so proud), Emily posing in the middle between her parents. It was nice to see them enjoying themselves, especially after the year they’d had. 
You knew it hadn’t been easy for Carla to choose to stay in the same area she and her daughter had experienced so much trauma in; she had told you as much. It was important to her to keep what family she had left together, that’s why she initially wanted to move back to Houston. But when Beau had convinced her to stay, she did it to keep Emily’s family together though it cost her quite a bit personally. You did everything you could to help, leaning into the friendship you used to have with her back in Texas. Not to mention Carla and Cassie had also formed their own sort of friendship thanks to the mutual links of Beau, you, and Emily. There were quite a few times Denise had mentioned to you that she and Cassie had stopped in for tea when Carla was still trying to sell the old property. You all provided as much support as you could, to let her and Emily (and Beau by extension) know that they weren’t alone here.
Your phone chimed with the arrival of a new picture. This one had you bowled over with laughter for the next two minutes. Emily had taken a selfie of her and Beau making horrified faces at the camera, an open box of Hawaiian pizza next to them, the pineapple clear as day on top of the cheese (sans the sauce as you had ordered). Emily had added in text: “Thanks for the pizza…I guess?” You rolled your eyes, smiling, and texted her back that it was pizza and if she could get her dad to eat a piece, she absolutely had to record a video and send it to you. She sent a winky emoji back with a thumbs up when a new message came in from Beau.
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You shrugged and quickly typed out a reply. 
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You snickered at the emojis he sent in response. Beau didn’t usually do emojis, that had to be Em’s influence, and you sure were getting a kick out of it. 
Satisfied that you had more than made your point about pineapple on pizza being superior, you snuggled down into your pillows and started another episode of Real Housewives. Seeing location shots of Dallas intercut with the episode caused a little pang inside your chest. Perhaps that’s part of the reason you tolerated such a dramatic show. You had only been to Dallas once or twice but still, the images reminded you of home and it provided a tiny salve for your heart, something you needed after such a rough day. Smiling when you were flooded with happy memories, you slowly closed your eyes and you were out like a light before Leanne and Brandi could start fighting for the umpteenth time over who betrayed who while Stephanie watched from the background looking torn.
And the rest of the week had been just as rough. You had come to refer to it as Hell Week between you and Poppernak. Hoyt made sure to give you the worst calls she could pull from the list each morning, either giving them to you directly or giving them to Pops knowing you would join him so he had backup. And you were pretty sure she had Madge dispatching any bullshit calls to you both during the day. Truthfully, it was starting to wear on you a little but you refused to show any trace of it to Hoyt or anyone in the department. That’s exactly what she wanted and you’d die first before giving that spiteful little blonde one goddamn inch.
Poppernak had even mentioned something one afternoon as you rode about an hour outside of town for a new case. It wasn’t his norm to make comments on the ongoing conflict between you and Hoyt, choosing to cruise in neutral territory instead, but that’s how much of a fucked up week it had been.
“Man, what did you do to piss off Hoyt this time?”
You shrugged a shoulder. “I was born, I guess.”
He chuckled nervously and shook his head, turning his gaze back onto the road. “Or something.”
“Or something,” you echoed. 
You hadn’t heard from Beau in a couple of days except for a single text message to let you know that he had convinced Emily to go camping after all. He asked if everything was going okay and you assured him that all was well. It was a lie of course but you refused to tell him the truth. You were a big girl and you could take care of yourself. Besides, you chose to meet Hoyt’s petty bullshit with indifference. 
And now you here were, schlepping through three foot long grass like you were on a fucking safari, looking for some old couple’s runaway dog and finding every conceivable pile of dog shit for you to plow through. Pops was whistling and calling out for the dog in his area and you were pretty sure he hadn’t moved any further since you warned him about potential snakes. Normally, you would have rolled your eyes and planned to tease him later about his apprehension, but in this situation, you couldn’t help but think that he was the smart one. You kept surging forward blindly, hence the crap all over your shoes. 
You had made it a few more feet when suddenly a dark head popped up not that far from your position, startling you and making you gasp. Your eyes went wide when you realized what you were looking at. Was that a…wolf? A goddamn wolf? 
Poppernak called out the name of the dog, and the wolf’s head snapped in his direction. You were stunned, but you still had enough presence of mind to call over to your partner albeit calmly so as not to startle the animal in front of you. “Pops! Shhh.”
“What was that, Y/N? I didn’t catch that. You see something?” He yelled back, making you grind your teeth together.
You carefully raised a hand in his direction to get his attention. “I need you to be quiet,” you carefully enunciated as you watched the wolf staring you down. “There is a wolf in front of me.”
“I’m sorry, did you say a wolf?” Poppernak cried out in a mix of disbelief and alarm. You bit your lip to keep from screaming out at him to shut his trap like you desperately wanted to. The more loud sounds that were made seemed to agitate the wolf and you were right in its sights. If you somehow survived this, you were going to give Pops a serious talking to. If you told him to shut it out in the field while working with him, he needed to shut his damn mouth, no questions asked, case closed.
“Pops, stop making so much noise. You’re pissing it off,” you said as calmly as possible.
“What do you want me to do?” Pops chose to loudly whisper instead. “Should I call Animal Control?”
The wolf bared its teeth at you and growled. Great.
“Don’t think that’s gonna help.”
You watched as the animal tensed and coiled in a backwards motion, almost as if it was getting into an attack position. Your instincts warred with one another; you wanted to reach for your gun to protect yourself but you also didn’t want to make any movements that might pose more of a threat. From the continued growling and its yellow-eyed laser focus on you, it was obvious you were already considered one.
“Y/N,” Poppernak stage whispered to you. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered back. “They didn’t cover wolves in training at the academy.”
“I don’t know, either.”
“You’re from around here, Pops. How the hell do you not know what to do?”
“Hey, they didn’t cover this in training here, either. That’s why we have Animal Control.”
“Pops!”
“Okay, okay. Whatever you do, don’t look it in the eyes. I think I remember my grandpa telling me if you do that with a bear, they’ll take it as a challenge and it’ll make them want to attack.”
The wolf growled at you and coiled back further, making you let out a nervous breath. “It’s a little late for that, Pepper Snaps.”
“Hang on, Y/N. I’m coming.”
“No! Stay where you are!” You yelled out in shock, wincing when you realized your mistake.
You saw more teeth and heard another growl. You decided the hell with it, and slowly moved to grab your gun. This thing was going to attack you, that was obvious, and while you’d rather it just turn and run in the opposite direction, you had to defend yourself. At that very inopportune moment, your phone vibrated in your pocket and your head snapped up, gasping when you noticed the animal ready itself to spring at you. This was it; you were done for. One of your last thoughts was that you hoped your being mauled by one of the apex predators of Montana finally lit a fire under Beau to prompt him to action and he ripped Hoyt a new one for sending you and Pops out into the fucking wilderness with no backup or protection.
“Goldie!” The old man called out from the porch. “Here, girl!” He’d obviously given up trusting that you and Poppernak would find his dog. Based on the wolf in front of you, you had a feeling you knew where the missing pet had gone. 
Almost as if it heard that thought and it had reached its limit on irritation, the animal growled and sprung forward at you, making you surge backwards and cry out as you fell promptly on your ass, right into several piles of dogshit you had somehow missed before. You held an arm up in front of your face as a last defense and closed your eyes, anticipating the feeling of those sharp teeth you had seen and the ensuing pain.
“Y/N!” Poppernak shouted. You could hear him running towards you. “I’m coming!”
 Much to your surprise, the pain didn’t come. The impact didn’t even happen. Your eyes snapped open in time to see a tail whooshing past you. In shock, you watched as the wolf broke into a run towards the house. 
“Pops! It’s heading towards the house!” You managed to get out. “The Knutsons!”
“Oh shit!” Had this been any other time, you would have laughed in surprise at Pops’ cursing; he never cursed. But this wasn’t any other time. “Mr. Knutson, get in the house! Get Mrs. Knutson and get inside! NOW!”
You went into a panic when you saw Lee make eye contact with the animal and instead of grabbing his wife and fleeing into the house as Pops instructed, a huge smile broke out onto his face and he held his arms out. “Goldie!”
The wolf increased its speed and you pulled your gun, jumping to your feet and running as fast as you could, Poppernak not too far behind you, both of you thinking the same thing: Lee was old and his eyesight might not be the best. He probably believed he saw his dog running towards him and being overwhelmed with relief, he didn’t think anything of it. He probably hadn’t even heard Pops’ yells too well, either, but even if he had, he’d probably think the deputy was mistaken. He was seeing his dog returning home to him. There was no way you were going to match the speed of the animal, it was going to beat you to the Knutsons, but you were determined to try. You just hoped you got there in time enough that the injuries wouldn’t be too bad. 
You heard the wolf bark as it jumped onto the porch, right at the old man. “Get back, sir!” Poppernak yelled next to you. Your lungs and legs were burning, but you pushed yourself to pick up speed and gave it all you had, making leaps over little objects that littered the portion of the yard you were in to give yourself more momentum.    
But to your surprise, the wolf stopped right before colliding with Lee, and instead raised up on its hind legs, placing its paws on his chest. “Shit,” you panted out and pumped your arms to help you move even faster. The wolf’s tongue was hanging out in between barks and you were close enough now to hear it let out a few cries, too. But thankfully, it didn’t attack Lee, or Marilyn when she got up and hurried over, the smile on her face mirroring her husband’s. It also didn’t bite Lee as he petted its huge head.
“Goldie! Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you!” The wolf barked in the man’s face, making him laugh.
You and Poppernak came to a halt right in front of the house and began to raise your guns to porch level and stopped, thinking the older couple was still confused. “Mr. Knutson, be very careful,” the deputy warned. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
Both Lee and Marilyn glanced down at you in confusion. “What do you mean?” The former asked.
“Mrs. Knutson, carefully step away, slowly,” you added. You were still working out in your head how you were going to get Lee safely out of the way and how you could scare the wolf off so you wouldn’t have to shoot it. Poppernak could then call Animal Control and get them out here so the Knutsons would be safe. Catching a whiff of yourself, realizing it was actually wolf shit you had been trekking through this entire time, you even entertained the thought of looking into getting someone out here to clean up the property for them.
Marilyn’s brows furrowed. “Why? You found our Goldie!”
“Ma’am, that’s not Goldie,” Pops calmly stated, both of your eyes still centered on the large animal who growled in your direction.
“Yes, it is!” Lee insisted.
“Sir,” you began. “I’m afraid it’s not.” You really didn’t desire to tell these people that their beloved dog was gone, most likely killed by the predator in front of them, but that was something you could worry about after everyone was safe. 
“It is too Goldie! Watch!” Lee glanced down at the animal, forcing it to make eye contact. “Goldie, sit!”
And to both yours and Poppernak’s shock, the wolf jumped down and did just that, looking as docile as any well-trained pet. 
“Good girl,” Lee praised. “Now, lay down.” The wolf again did as the old man instructed, wagging its tail.
You and your partner exchanged a mystified look; had the Knutsons been feeding a wolf this whole time? And now it was following their commands? How was this even possible? Just when you thought you’d seen everything.
Lee began to laugh. “Oh, I see. You think she’s a wolf from the wild, right?” 
You failed to see the humor and swiftly nodded, still keeping your eye on the animal. “She’s not?” Poppernak asked in disbelief.
“Oh my Lord, no. Goldie here is a hybrid. We’ve had her since she was a pup. Got her from a breeder. So you can relax now and put those guns away. You’re making her nervous.”
Poppernak slowly placed his back in his holster but you simply lowered yours. The wolf may now be watching you in keen interest, tongue lolling out of its mouth and panting heavily, but you still remembered how aggressive it looked back in the yard when you came across it. You weren’t blindly trusting what the old man was telling you; you needed proof first.
“Mr. Knutson, when I asked you what your dog looked like, you told me it had black fur and yellow—”
“Eyes,” Lee finished for you. “That’s why we call her Goldie. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
One glance at the wolf confirmed the rich gold staring back at you. 
“But when we asked you the breed, you said it was a mutt, half King Shepherd. Not to mention it was about to attack Y/L/N here.” You gave a subtle nod of appreciation to your partner at that last little mention. Both of you were trying to desperately make sense of this odd situation. Especially since you asked for a photo of Goldie and you were told you didn’t need one since she had to be lost on the property somewhere, possibly hurt or dying. It wasn’t like her not to come home by nightfall; her being missing for two days straight, she was in trouble. Their urgency overrode your attempts to get a visual of the animal you were looking for. You’d even tried to persuade them to supply you with a photo anyway but Lee had been adamant, which is exactly why you and Pops had been making your way through the endless yard.
“That’s her dog half. And a hybrid is a mutt,” Lee mused, smiling down at his pet. “I know she’s big and scary looking but I assure you she’s harmless. You probably just scared her is all. She doesn’t care for trespassers and she’s a little wary of visitors.” Marilyn nodded along with him.
You looked over at Pops who gave you a shrug, unsure of how to proceed. You let out a heavy breath and slipped your gun back into your holster, your gaze landing back on the wolf who laid her head down on her paws, almost as if she was trying to look innocent of the accusation that had just been made against her. Your eyes lifted to her owner when a thought hit you.
“You got her from a breeder, you say? Surely you’ll have papers for her then.”
Lee scratched at his head. “We do, somewhere. It’d take us forever to find it but, hey! You ask the sheriff or Miss Hoyt. They know Goldie, they know she’s legal.”
Your jaw tensed at the mention of the undersheriff. You knew she was saving the worst calls for you to go out on and you had accepted this week was pure hell that you would get through no matter what, but this…this was just plain vindictiveness at its best. Now the smirk she’d given you when giving you this call made sense, along with her insisting Animal Control wasn’t needed when you mentioned it and the Knutsons were a lovely old couple that just needed a little hand holding since they didn’t have anyone else, their kids and grandkids having long ago moved out of state.
“Y/L/N, the dog is probably somewhere in the yard and they don’t even know it. It would mean a lot to them if we respond to let them know we’re taking it seriously. Just go out there, look around, whistle a few times, and if the dog doesn’t come running, then tell them we’ll put flyers up. Open and shut case, trust me.”
You weren’t a violent person by any means. You could certainly hold your own in a fight but that wasn’t the way you preferred to resolve things. But if Hoyt were here in front of you right this second, you would have decked her.
You glared over at Poppernak who was gaping over at you. He seemed just as surprised as you so that made you feel slightly better. At least the whole department hadn’t been in on this. You gave Lee a curt nod and turned to head back to the car, more than done for the day, when you heard a loud gasp from behind you.
“Oh, honey.” You spun around, thinking the worst only to find Marilyn holding a hand over her mouth, her gaze intent on you, while Lee appeared to be struggling to hold in a laugh. You knew it before she even said it. “You are just covered in…in…”
“Dog shit,” Lee finished for his wife and burst out into laughter. Goldie began barking excitedly, almost as if she was trying to laugh along with her owner. She ignored the glare you sent her way and kept on barking. You glanced down and you were indeed covered in the excrement. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops hold a closed fist up to his mouth, making a sound that suspiciously sounded like a chuckle and taking a step away from you. You scowled over at him, daring him to join in the laughter. The chuckle morphed into a sudden cough mixed in with a throat clearing, his expression turning sheepish.
Marilyn didn’t laugh, though. “I have some baby wipes,” she offered.
“Thank you,” you grumbled, not able to inject any gratitude into your voice just then. You hoped you didn’t sound too rude. Baby wipes were certainly better than nothing. 
“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Marilyn hurried inside the house and you couldn’t help but continue to glare at the dog who watched you intently, tongue hanging out, not a care in the world, and a gleam in her golden eyes that confirmed for you that she found your predicament just as entertaining as her owner did. You shot her a ferocious glare as you worked to get your jacket off carefully with Poppernak’s help. Seeing the excrement now caked underneath your fingernails, you left out an irritated huff. Hell week indeed.
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A/N: This was the image I had in my head of Goldie btw (black fur, yellowish eyes):
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This is a full on wolf but definitely the look could fit the hybrid I think, depending on genetics and the dog breed of course.
Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series.
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lionheartslowstart · 2 months
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POA
Something happened recently that has caused me to confront the fact that I am truly disabled. It's not that I didn't know I was, of course I have since the autism diagnosis, but I really, and I mean really, got hit in the face with it.
I'll explain.
I can't go into too much detail regarding the actual circumstances, but the long and short of it is that I had to give my parents power of attorney in order to solve a housing issue. I trust parents completely and I know it's not something they would ever abuse. They made it clear to me that should I ever want to dissolve it, we could do that, and that the sole purpose for getting it was to avoid any houses issues now and in the future.
We had to go to a lawyer's office to sign the document and have it notarized. It was all very official. Afterwards, I drove home, sat on my bed, and just cried.
When I received the autism diagnosis, I was diagnosed with Level 1 autism. Autism is divided into 3 different levels. However, in my research, these levels seem to pertain strictly to social skills. In this way, yes, I am a Level 1 autistic. But if we're talking about "functionality," I'm not so sure I can qualify as Level 1 anymore. (Seriously, why IS it split by social ability? That's stupid.)
I'm 30 years old, and I'm still financially dependent on my parents. At this point in my life, I can't work a full time job. As a result, I will never be financially independent, and I will never be able to afford housing on my own. I say "at this point," because maybe one day that will change, but I doubt it. And for the record, I count myself lucky I can at least work a part time job, because 85% of autistics can't work at all.
Autism is a developmental disability, and I feel that as I'm getting older, it's become more obvious. Because I'm staying the same. I mean, obviously not completely the same. I've learned and grown and matured, and my friends who have known me for over a decade always comment on how much I've changed, but that's not what I mean. I mean that I feel like an adult and a child at the same time. I mean there are certain things I can't DO, certain things I can't retain or process, because my brain just won't let me. For example, I can't set up health insurance by myself. Every time my mom tries to explain it to me, my brain glazes over. That's the best way I can explain it. And I swear, I am trying SO hard to pay attention. I can't help it. My brain just...won't.
If this is what my life looks like when I'm 30, what is it going to look like when I'm 50? 60? 70? Not good. Not a good quality of life at all.
I'm so jealous of my friends and family. I don't understand how they do it. Even my other autistic friends are able to work full time or go to school full time without incident. (I did go to college full time but I almost ended myself like 3 times and I had to take a LOT of time off throughout.) It makes me feel guilty and bad. Like a loser. A failure. And yes, I know that autism can look different in everyone. I guess this is just one of the ways it affects me personally. But even so, it's painful to watch everyone around you be fully independent, and for whatever reason that's just not you. I mean, I'm independent in other ways. I can live by myself, make my own appointments, work part-time, and form meaningful relationships. I'm really trying to focus on those things instead, but it's been difficult to stay positive. I feel like financial independence is pretty major.
I want to interject here and say that I am insanely grateful to my parents. I know how blessed I am. They are my biggest supporters, both emotionally and financially. They love me so much, and if I didn't have them I'm certain I'd be homeless, probably long dead. I know that most people don't have parents like mine, let alone autistic people. I thank them all the time and tell them how guilty I feel and reassure them that I'm not lazy or spoiled, that I take their support very seriously. And they always assure me that they know, and not to worry about it, and they just want me to be happy.
But I do worry about it. My parents have wasted so much money on keeping me alive, it makes me physically ill. If I wasn't around, they'd have more money in their pockets for other things. They wouldn't have to worry about me all the time. I genuinely feel like they'd be better off without me, at least in the long run.
Like I said, the thoughts have been real dark lately, y'all. I've been extremely depressed since we instated the POA. This is my reality.
I don't know if my friends will still want to be friends with me in 10 years. Even my autistic friends. I don't like that I'll most likely never be financially independent. It is my greatest shame and I wish so badly it wasn't true.
People who insist autism is a fad and that people fake it for attention or whatever can eat my entire ass.
I would do anything, and I mean anything, to not be autistic.
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yes-divine-ruler · 2 years
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Boy Next Door
part 12: Alex’s POV
pairing: alex (from adult world) x fem!reader
CW: fluff
Taglist/ @v-love @evanpetersfav @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @dahmevan @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight t @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @sultrysullen @evan4ever r @zoebens0ncult @therewasnothinginthekoolaid @therealsagasenior
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this chapter is entirely in Alex's POV for something a lil diff, enjoy!
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"Don't you think you guys should go out on a date?"
I stood across from Amy, my arms crossed over my chest as I leaned a hip against the front counter. I had been keeping my work colleague, Amy, up-to-date on my current situation-ship with Y/N. She was so excited for me to come into work every day and give her the spiel, that she bombarded me with questions every-time I'd walk through the door.
"Yeah, I think we should," I took into deep consideration her suggestion, realising that apart from walking Weston, hanging out at our apartments and grocery shopping, we hadn't been anywhere formally. I had to admit, I wasn't a formal person, I never really took anything too seriously.
"Go to the new restaurant down the road from here, it looks fun, or maybe a movie? I dont know what does she like?" Amy asked, stacking porn magazines into our sliding glass door shelving.
"I don't-" it dawned on me that I wasn't really too sure what she liked, apart from cooking, and hanging out at home. She seemed like she came from money, and if I'm being honest, totally innocent and naive. I wasn't even sure what kind of movie she'd like and we'd spent so much time together over the last few weeks.
"I don't really know," I confessed, rubbing a hand over my face and greeting a customer as they walked in. I flashed them a big smile but, inside I was nervous and kind of concerned with this new revelation.
I really liked Y/N, we seemed almost polar opposites, but we got on like a house on fire. She taught me how to be responsible, more mature and adult like, and I showed her how to... orgasm and smoke weed?
"A safe bet would be dinner, but I'm sure she'll like anything you plan. She seems to really like you," Amy was good at putting my anxieties at ease, and I really appreciated her reassurance.
"Thanks Ams," I shot her a genuine smile, ruffling her hair as I passed her to serve our lone customer.
—-
"What do you want?" Y/N was good at humbling me when I came to her door shirtless with my hair wet at random times in the evening. She always looked good, her hair over her shoulder, her lips curled into a mischievous grin. She wasn't as hard to crack as I originally thought though, but she was still keeping me on my toes even after all this time.
"I have a proposition, my little squirter," I felt like I was always risking upsetting her with my playfulness, but maybe she was getting used to it, because she only rolled her eyes in response.
"What might that be?" Her cheeks were now a hue of red, and I know that I did a good job at flustering her. She was so easy to work up.
"Dinner, maybe movie after?" After much deliberation I decided that maybe I'd go out on a whim and go with both options so that if one disappointed, there was always the other to fall back on.
But like Amy had said, Y/N's eyes sparkled with intrigue and her lips formed into a little smile. Her smile only made me smile more; it was so contagious. I raised my eyebrows waiting for a response, tapping my wrist with my forefinger to let her know she was taking her time.
"Okay-" she tucked a sole strand of her hair behind her ear, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, "what time?"
"7? Movie is at 8.30," I knew she liked when I was forward and took charge. I was always like that anyway, I didn't like fucking around to try and come to a plan.
"Okay, see you then," she closed the door as I saluted her, and walked back to my apartment to change my clothes and maybe have a bowl or two. I hadn't been on a proper date in years, and I didn't want to fuck this up. The pot should be able to calm the nerves that were rampant in my stomach like a swarm of giant butterflies.
—-
"What movie have you been wanting to see?" I hadn't revealed to Y/N what movie we were watching because frankly, I hadn't chosen one. Call me a genius, but I thought I'd just buy the tickets there so that the movie definitely couldn't disappoint.
The restaurant I'd taken her to was the one Amy had suggested, fairly new and actually quite hipster. I should've known she'd suggest something so alternative, when she told me I'd have to really look out for it because it was off the beaten track. I was worried enough when they didn't answer the phone to book a reservation, let alone have to scour the Main Street for its location.
"Nothing really calls out to me, maybe the new rom-com," she smirked at me as if she knew I'd hate having to sit through a romantic comedy, but she was dearly wrong.
"I've been looking at that too, sounds cool," I smirked back when she pouted in defeat. She was just too cute.
"How's the food?" I looked down at the supposed lasagna on my plate, that had been unnecessarily deconstructed to look different. To say it didn't look too appetising was an understatement. I couldn't wait to devour a large popcorn and a pack of Reese's in the theatre.
"Pretty good," she was simple in her response, but I'd noticed she hadn't eaten as much as I did. I knew she didn't want to be rude, I was paying an abnormally big price for two unpalatable meals, and she already felt bad pushing it around mindlessly on her plate with her fork.
"You don't have to lie to me you know? You can say it's shit," I let out a laugh, not caring even an ounce that she didn't enjoy her meal because I didn't either.
"Okay," she pushed her plate into the middle of the table with a light giggle, "it's shit."
"Good," I let out a sigh of relief, "let's head to the earlier screening then, I can't even tell who's working here and who's a patron."
She held my hand tightly as we left the restaurant. Her palm was slightly clammy, but I didn't mind it. She was probably intimidated by the sight of the dingy alleyway that led us back to the street from the restaurant. Even in such dim lighting she looked undeniably beautiful, and honestly, all I could think about was making her cum again.
"Alex?"
She gave my hand a squeeze to bring me back to reality, looking up at me all doe-eyed and almost concerned. I didn't realise that I'd fallen victim to my x-rated thoughts.
"2 tickets to.. that one please," I found it too embarrassing to say the actual name of the movie, opting to point to the movie poster above our heads instead.
The guy behind the counter gave me a slight scoff before going to print our tickets. I almost wanted to punch him just for looking at me like that. It wasn't a side of me that Y/N had ever seen before and I was hoping to keep it that way. I took a deep breath, smiling through grit teeth as I snatched our tickets and led her to the snack station.
"What was that about?" She asked me, giving my hand another squeeze. She was too smart to let anything slide passed her, and for that I only adored her more. I was never really a relationship guy, I always just slept around, preferring to having my fun and then not have to wake up next to them in the morning. But something about Y/N made me want to wake up next to her and stroke her hair and make her breakfast in bed. It was a weird feeling to say the least and I didn't know how to push it back down.
"Oh nothing, he was just scoffing like an idiot, I'm not gonna stand for that shit," I was entirely honest with her, and she seemed to agree when she nodded her head.
"Yeah what was his problem?" She let out a tiny chuckle as my eyes bugged out at the sight of the popcorn, bursting from their cardboard boxes and spilling with golden-buttery-crunchy goodness. I had to grab two, and maybe that was me changing the subject, but it worked.
She followed me as I paid, grabbing a measly bottle of cold water and setting it down next to my mega-sized coke and raspberry slushy. It was almost ironic, our drinks perfectly representing our person.
She was already snacking on her popcorn, holding both boxes to her chest and trying to eat the pieces that were falling from the top. She looked like a little mouse, but in a cute way.
"Okay Stewart Little, save some for the movie," I joked, as we slid through the aisle and sat in our designated seats, way up the top and right in the back corner. Why would I want to sit anywhere else?
"Shut up Alex," she snapped back, as the previews started and she snuggled up to my side. I held my breath as I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, seeing if it would stop the hard thumping in my chest. I was always afraid she'd hear it and know how I was feeling. Why was I so afraid to show my feelings?
"Thanks for taking me out on a date, Alex," she smiled with her pearly whites and it was almost all I could notice illuminated by the movie screen.
"You're welcome sweetheart," I had to keep it cool, turning back to the screen and digging my hand in the popcorn, pretending I didn't notice the way her face heated up. My god, was she probably going to be the death of me.
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carisi-dreams · 9 months
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Takes place immediately after this.
Warnings: SOA typical mentions of violence, profanity, etc
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Sonny entered the house with a cacophony of noise that you listened to distantly as you continued unloading groceries. You grabbed another can from the shopping bags on the floor of the kitchen to place it on the kitchen counter to be put away. His bike roared to an abrupt stop and then his boots stomped heavily across the porch before the front door was being opened with a jangle of keys. In the next beat, you heard keys sliding across the coffee table in the living room, no doubt tossed, and rolled your eyes. How hard was it to hang them on the hook by the door? 
You glanced over your shoulder as stomped over to the kitchen doorway and shot him a quick smile. The events from earlier in the day and deciding what to cook for dinner had you distracted. It was so tempting to order tacos, which was ridiculous considering all of the fresh food you now had to eat. Cooking seemed like an insurmountable effort.
“Hi Sonny, how was work?” you called over your shoulder. He was in a mood and you fought your annoyance. 
“I heard you had a visitor today,” he grit out in lieu of reply.
You paused, but didn’t turn to face him. The heavy soles of his shoes dragged across the floor as he took another step closer. 
“How’d you hear that?” It was impossible to avoid a tone that wasn’t hardened with frustration, so you didn’t try.
“The prospect that—“
“You’re spying on me now!?” You whirled to face him and slammed your hands on the counter behind your hips. “Are you fucking kidding me, Sonny.” Flat. Like a flat sea with a storm cloud in the distance.
“I’m not spying on you,” he spat out in protest. He pushed the hair back from his face roughly and you noticed that he was still wearing his riding gloves. “It’s for your protection. After everything that’s—“
“So that “no more secrets” was just for me or…” you interrupted sharply.
“It is for your protection,” Sonny insisted. He leaned forward and you rolled your eyes. “If you had had a prospect with you when…” he trailed off. You could fill in the blanks for yourself. There were plenty of nightmares, past and imagined, to fill them in for you.
“If that was true, you would have told me,” you replied lowly. “You don’t trust me.” Sonny tried to protest, but you raised your voice and kept speaking. “And I don’t trust you. What the fuck happened to us.” 
It was not a question. You shook your head and pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes. A bag on the counter rustled as it settled and you exhaled quietly through your mouth.
“I was going to tell you.” You kept your hands pressed to your face. “Today. Not the second you burst through the door.” At this you let your hands drop and shot him a nasty look. “But over dinner or before dinner or after you asked me how my day was.” You huffed out a humorless laugh. “And now, you’ll never know if I’m telling the truth. You didn’t even give me a chance. And you have some prospect whose balls dropped yesterday tailing me and reporting back to you.”
Sonny closed the distance between you and reached out. You shrunk away from his hand, but he wasn’t deterred. Both hands came up to frame your face, but you couldn’t make yourself look at him.
“I believe you,” he said sincerely in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I should have given you a chance to say something.” Your gaze flickered up to his and then skittered away. “I fucked this up because I was scared and I keep doing that. I am sorry. I just want to keep you safe.”
"Sonny…”
“I want to keep you safe,” he repeated. “I told your dad I was going to look after you and I’m doing a shitty job of it these past few years. He’d beat the shit out of me if he was here. You wouldn’t have been hurt if he was here.”
“I wouldn’t have had as big a target on my back,” you agreed with a sigh. The fight leaked out of you and you sagged. “But I’d still be hurt.”
You cleared your throat and studied his ear.
“The person who visited me today is named Daniel Parker. He doesn’t know who you are and he didn’t harm me…physically.” The words were small and careful. Picking your way through a landmine.
“He…” you couldn’t say the words. 
Instead, you reached into your back pocket and offered the photo to Sonny. You kept your eyes trained on his face and studiously did not look at it as he dropped a hand from your face to take it. 
“This is him as a little boy with his parents.”
Sonny’s gaze was still on you and gave you an inquisitive look before finally dropping his gaze to the picture. You saw the recognition, confusion, and understanding chase across his face. 
“I’m going to call Olivia and get this to her,” he finally said in a hard voice as his eyes met yours again. He slipped the photo into his back pocket and then reached up his free hand to frame your face again. “We’ll find out if he’s telling the truth or not.”
You were thankful that you hadn’t had to say the words, although you couldn’t stop the face you pulled at Olivia’s name. 
“I know you and Olivia have your weird…whatever,” he said. His expression took on that confused look that he gave you every time you rolled your eyes at Olivia’s name. “I know that you think she’s…”
Always playing the hero. Too earnest. A little self aggrandizing.
“Intense,” he finished. Not your choice of word, but sure. “But she’ll be able to find out who the hell Daniel Parker really is and if he’s a liar.” Sonny paused and then seemed to choose his next words carefully. “Your dad loved you.”
“Don’t,” you bit out bitterly.
“He did,” Sonny insisted gently. His fingertips brushed the shell of your left ear and you shivered. Calloused fingers found their way under your chin and he gripped it firmly enough to make you look him in the eye, but not hard enough to hurt. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you muttered. Your eyes darted from the tip of his nose to his eyes.
“You don’t have to do this by yourself.” His grip tightened for a moment before relaxing again, but he didn’t let go of your chin. “I’ll ask Olivia to dig.”
“I think he’s exactly who he says he is,” you sighed and shifted your weight. “I already dug around his social media.” 
You hadn’t gotten much in the way of work done before you finally left the hospital and decided to grocery stop instead. It hadn’t really scratched the need to be productive itch that had crawled between your layers of skin. 
“He says he just wants to get to know me and know more about…him,” you couldn’t bring yourself to say ‘my dad’ or, even worse, ‘our dad.’ “He’s an only child and he seems excited to have a sibling.”
Sonny huffed and dropped a kiss to your forehead.
“We’ll see,” he said cryptically.
“Sonny, don’t—“
“I won’t threaten him,” Sonny finished your sentence with an assurance. His hands dropped to your shoulders now and he stepped even closer. “I won’t do anything unless you want me to, but we will find out who exactly he is first. Everything else, we’ll take as it comes.”
His arms came to wrap you in a hug and you let the familiar smell of his leather and the familiar grip of his arms rock you gently. 
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renegadeontherunn · 3 months
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a short & extremely personal piece about getting in trouble. inspired by my life a few days ago.
"Are we going to get in trouble?" I ask, and my brother shakes his head, dark curls swishing. "No way. This is the best prank." I take the end of the yarn skein from his hands and start wending and weaving it around the entire house. When we're done, quietly giggling, the kitchen, the living room, even the stairs have supernova bursts of multi-colored yarn making a maze that I'm sure, in my little girl brain, every parent wants to wake up to. My dad is late for his government job that morning. He yells at us to take our hard work down. He has no patience for our crying or our apologies as he shoves on his shoes. He comes home late that night. The yarn has been buried in the trash—maybe if we can't see it, we can forget it happened. He does not apologize.
I ask her again. "What if we get in trouble?" It's my single greatest fear, except for maybe dying, but I'm in high school now, and fairly certain dying a slow painful death feels exactly like being screamed at in the kitchen. The grim reaper's approach sounds like all-too-familiar footsteps that ooze dread under the crack in my door. Emilie tells me not to care. "At worst, they'll just ask us to leave." The park where prom started is pitch black when I drive in. We've been joking for a year now that she owes me a dance. We roll every window down and blast a song about a failed engagement out of the car speakers. We hold each other a bit awkwardly and fumble a waltz around the parking lot. My dress is green and weeping glitter. We race back to the car when Park Services pulls up to tell us the park is closed. I drive us away, adrenaline making my muscles stiff. Emilie starts giggling and I have to pull over because I can't see the road through my tears of laughter. We drive away and stay out all night, taking pictures in the headlights of my mom's car. Emilie looks beautiful. I think about confessing I'm in love with her.
I make sure to turn the volume all the way down. "Mom?" I am even speaking softly. Despite the fact that I live in a different state, all on my own, and have known life out from under many thumbs, I am back at home, and at any moment an angry man might come through the door. "Are we going to get in trouble?" My mom sits next to me on the couch. She's saving money to try and live out from under thumbs too. I feel guilty asking for a new pair of shoes, even if the ones I have are falling apart at the soles. She tells me, "probably," in a tone that says that shouldn't stop us, but she's speaking quietly too. I try to be okay with that. The naughty thing we are doing, by the way, is hanging out. I want to show her a new tv show I know she'll love, and since I love it too, I want only her to see it. She's been called exclusionary even more than I have. We watch and laugh and my mom swears she didn't fall asleep and I breathe a sigh of relief when we stand up and my dad has not yet entered the house. I resign myself to eating dinner across from him, and then am crushed by guilt, remembering how he bought me chocolate sprinkles when we ran out. I do not think about how he cried telling me he felt lonely and excluded in our family. I bury my head in my pillow and do not think about how he'll never understand that it's his own fault, and how I can never explain. I definitely do not cry.
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blacksa1t · 9 months
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Hello! long time no see.
Funny enough, as i have checked Deviantart daily, favouriting people artworks and trying to interact with them when i can, but never had the time or motivation to post my own works.
WELL, this journal may get a bit long as i'll ramble a bit about the year that is about to end in \\looks at clock \\ 20 minutes from now. So if you don't want to bother with that you can scroll at the bottom to the text in bold that will say 'PLANS FOR 2024' if you are more interested into that.
Now, let's get started.
2023 Has been quite a year for me.
Started quite rough, due to past mistakes and behaviour on my part towards some people that was uncalled for- which also brought me to be less online and rather stay in a confort zone, sharing mostly art with friends i knew i could trust and helped me see my mistakes and how i did grow out of it and how i still can better myself. The large influx of AI art has also unconsciously made me post less art, it has been a grim year for artists and if you are blocked, its solely because you used AI or NFT. Nothing personal, i just dont want to be part of your art theft thats all.
But other than that, 2023 has been a great year, with so many things happening that i barely can recall all of them.
One of the most important-which now feels like such a far memory- was finally getting rid of the two jobs i had at the same time. They were extremely time consuming and stressing and i am so incredibly grateful to have found a job now that has amazing coworkers, a great sense of teamwork and a work that relates and fuels one of my passions.
Having only one job, which also is an online one, gave me so much more time to take care of myself and my hobbies and while i did not post as much as i would have liked this year i drew so fuckin much compared to the previous years.
I finally feel more confortable with my art, being able to exercise on the daily, and i have big hopes to keep improving next year <3
The second, but not less important, is regarding my relationships. I still see myself as part of the asexual spectrum but i found someone that truly cares for me, that helped me go trough very rough times, that has supported my artwork and my headworlds so much that i know i would not have developed them this much if it wasn't for them.
They are one of the sweetest and smartest people i ever met and i truly think they deserve the world and more, someone that i had the pleasure to pass so many months together on shared vacations to each others houses.
And for this, i am happy to say i am in a relationship with them <3
I also met so many incredible people this year. Made some amazing friends, artists or not that have made me laugh and cheered me so much this year, and for that i feel very lucky to have met them.
I could keep talking about this all the time, but enough cheesyness in here.
This point also connects to the one above, as i am also for the first time thinking of moving from my country, Italy, to live completely somewhere else with my partner. We already looked at places and while nothing is set in stone we hope to manage the move by the end of this 2024!! very excited and very scared since i would move to a foreign country, but i feel reassured to have someone to move out with rather than doing it alone.
Other important things for me this year were my phisical and mental health.
My previous jobs was very stressing, having to deal with the public most of my day, especially in the ice cream shop where temperatures were KILLER, and did not help the moods.
So i decided around september to visit a psychologist, both for my stress and to better myself with people, to face my fears and other things i had to push aside for the sake of having no time to look into them.
AND i started working out more frequently, which having a home job i sure need since i am sitting most of the time in front of a pc lol.
I am surely missing something, but thoose were the things that i am more happy for and that make me excited for the year to come.
'PLANS FOR 2024'
Well, this is where i say a bunch of stuff and then maybe do half of it, but i want to keep positive that with more time in my hands i will be able to work more on all i have planned.
- Posting Art / Where To Find Me
I know i say this every year lol. But i want to believe that i can manage this time around. I will try to post at least once or twice a week. I have a lot of backlog of art i did in 2023 that will save me from scrambling to do art at the last minute just to upload it, so i am not too stressed about it.
I am also trying to see where posting art at this point is...worth it. I have Twitter but the place i a hellhole, been tempted to just use it to browse stuff rather than posting personal work.
Tumbrl seem to be a nice choice and i do have a Bluesky profile, so i'll try for sure to be more active there!
Here are my social links
bsky.appBlacksalt (@blacksalt.bsky.social)
https://twitter.com/Blacksa1t2 !
At some point i will see if i will open commissions or not, its been a while (like 2 years lol). But if you are interested send me a message and we can talk about it!
i have a very very good job so its not my main worry, but i do enjoy drawing for others and i've been thinking of reopening commissions for a while now.
-Inverted ARPG
This is a project i honestly dont know when i will have something concrete on, but i do want to try. For who has followed me for a long time, you know i am a huge sucker for apocalypse scenarios and that i have my own headworld for it. Well i thought it would be cool to make it an ARPG, with the possibilty of a player joining either the 'survivors' or the infected, the 'savagers'. A lot of it is WIP and i am not ready to show much of it yet, but i hope to be able to share with you all this year!
For now, you can see the wonderful art i commisioned @\ Ebonmere for one of the starting places on the map, the Riverside Bullwark
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-Ayrum ARPG
So! this is not my project, but the one of my boo Umbrace <3 shes been working on it for a long time now, and while its still in progress she did a lot of work for it in 2023 and i want to be part of this beautiful, alien world.
You can read about it here, they do have a discord so hit me up if you are interested in peeking in an see how things are going!
docs.google.comARPG planning
Do know that its not playable right now, and its all a work in progress.
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That's all! i apologize if i made huge writing errors, im stinky like that
I wish you all a great year, crossing fingers it will be better for all of you <3
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friendsofmedusa · 2 years
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How could you claim to know anything about the whole of trans people when you solely go off of the people who are bad, who just so happen to be trans?
I am an s/a victim, both of a cis male, and years later, of a nonbinary person. To avoid your mockery, I won't say anything about the fact that although I am still skeptical of men, I try hard not to judge, I will only say it of nonbinary people.
I am a skeptical person, and I don't trust others as quickly as I do women. I can acknowledge that there are bad people who are trans. But I'm not going to see a problem with them as a whole.
What I can't understand, I will give voice to, and what I have a problem with, I will give voice to as well. But I'm not immediately going to dismiss it because I'm angry or don't understand.
So I don't understand why TERFS or " radical feminists "—you're not radical, by the way, you're nothing new—claim to know so much about others' lives, despite the fact that they don't understand anything at all about why trans people feel the way they do so much as assume how they feel, based off of a narrow‐minded, extremist outlook that will only ever see the negative of anything that isn't immediately understood.
Standing up for women and speaking on the struggles they go through, talking about the trans people who happen to be bad, standing up for assault victims, talking about the men that are bad and what's wrong with male culture, that's not wrong, at all. I don't even need to say so, but I would like to clarify it.
But you are extremist. How can you accurately or impartially assess anyone's life—especially one you would never fully understand, even if you were supportive of it, or humble enough to try and learn about it—from a standpoint like that?
How can you talk so knowingly of the minds of people you don't take seriously, anyway?
First of all, I'm deeply sorry about what you went through, that is horrendous and I hope you are well and recovering.
Now, addressing the rest of your ask.
I don't base my opinion of trans people solely on the bad ones, that would be stupid. I've met plenty, both on the internet and in real life, who were good people. And I do believe there are some genuine transexual people, whose dysphoria is so severe that transitioning is the only valuable option for them.
That said, I don't believe in the concept of gender. Or, I think it's a concept we should actively work to dismantle instead of enforcing it, as it's the main tool men use to keep us women under their heel. Gender is nothing but a stinky pile of conservative and downright sexist gender roles and expectations, why shouldn't I be against it when it's actively harming my life as a woman?
And before you say something along the lines of "But trans people are redefining the gender binary yadda yadda yadda", let me just say: no, they are not.
There is literally nothing as sexist as claiming to be of the opposite sex because you don't conform to society's expectations of how you should dress, act, speak. I should've transitioned years ago if that were the case.
But moving on.
I don't see a problem with the whole of trans people. I fully support their rights to housing, jobs, healthcare, you name it.
Who I have a problem with is men, aka adult human males. Reason why, scroll my blog and you'll get the gist. And trans ideology is offering men new ways to torture women.
Just look at all the inmates id-ing as trans to be moved to women's prisons. It's either one of two cases: one, there's an alarming number of rapists among trans women, and women are fucking right not to want them in their spaces; two, you can't take someone's word at face value when it comes to psychiatric disorders (because let me remind you that gender dysphoria still is a psychiatric disorder).
And when you say that radfems don't know anything about the trans experience, you are just plain wrong. Many, many of us are dysphoric women and detransitioners. We've been there, we just didn't fall down the hole of medicalisation.
And that's really the crux of it. You say I'm an extremist, and for what?
For saying we shouldn't unnecessarily medicalise children? For saying that SRSs are Doctors playing fucking Frankenstein on depserate people? For saying that therapy should be the primary form of medical care a dysphoric person should receive, instead of going straight to irreversible surgery?
If that makes me an extremist, glad to be one.
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jade-of-mourning · 6 months
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okay sorry hi I know I just sent you an ask about my cat being alive but you’re like,, my favorite internet stranger so I thought you should know. I calmed down a little bit and read your response to my fourteen page ask
IM SO HAPPY I HYPE YOU UP‼️‼️ I love being peoples’ hypeman and you’re like,,, awesome so that’s super cool. don’t rush yourself but if you’re feeling pumped to share I will be your #1 fan. I’m probably gonna finish a little 4+1 thing and post it to my blog as a little grand reveal as snailon if that’s cool :3
ALSO I’m so happy you posted the cat thing on ao3 it was really nice and super well written and thank you for the suggestion! the cat is being washed thoroughly right now and I am on guard duty of the bathroom door. he was (we guess) stuck in the sewage of the construction sight beyond the wooded area behind our house.
SO MORE LOK THOUGHTS
you exactly caught my vibe (again) when you mentioned the insane repression mako and bolin are doing in canon. I honestly think there’s nothing more than elevator music behind bo’s eyes in canon because if the creators allowed anything else it would solely be The Horrors and they needed someone on that godforsaken team to be emotionally available and somewhat happy. and try as he might, mako will always be uncontrollably feral. I know by b4 he just has an all out brawl every morning fighting to get his hair presentable. give up and be the scraggly, strange detective that somehow knows everything that you were always meant to be.
which, for the record, is not to say I like his hair. I want him to grow it out more so he stops looking so fucking dumb with his stupid pointy ass hair (I really really really hate mako’s hair) but I also think it would grow out kind of wavy/curly which. yeah. I will be coming back to this later when I yap about avatar mako btw.
also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE write mako absolutely losing his shit he 100% so much deserves that. he cries maybe once yearly and it is scheduled so I think he should get to murder y’know. just a little bit. he’s just a girl (insert sad coquette hamster)
makos hand being fucked up is the Vision. you understand so much. the gloves are so suspicious (the same way the shirt-on-at-the-sauna is in the comics. i see you, you little transmasc) and going off the logic of the last ep that with enough charge/consistency, lightning output can scar/mangle the exit point of the bender so. mako learning to use his bending mostly on his own fucking up and rocking his own shit until zolt shoves someone over to go clean up the rookie cause finding someone new is a pain. of course it’s a patch job (as you mentioned everything for them would be) so I imagine it’s like. pretty mangled. like stuff just slightly out of place, lots of raised skin and discolored patches and generally like uncomfortable to look at. I’d bet (like you said) bolin is really the only one he’d trust to see his hands unless makorrasami became like. a thing.
also if you have any,, fic recs,, I would be very not opposed,,,,,
OKAY OKAY SO AVATAR MAKO THOUGHTS. I’m actually going insane about this au.
so for 1: this idea was mostly a silly little ha-ha but imagine raava gets really fucking confused being in their first ever mixed kid and just. skips right back to air after mako. would that not be the funniest shit ever. like the earth kingdom would already be pressed that their go was a mixed kid who was a criminal firebender for the first bit of his life, but imagine how the FIRE NATION feels having their avatar “skipped over” because mako (again, CRIMINAL FIREBENDER) was technically a fn avatar.
and this keeps happening. more mixed kids. mixed kids out of the cycle ordered pairs become avatar. raava gets fucking lost. everyone loses track of whose element is next and world leaders everywhere are sobbing. mako would be so very pleased with himself. he and the half-avatar water tribe person would be clinking together glasses of alcohol in heaving and watching it all go down.
I was also thinking about this half-avatar playing a role in mako’s journey. They would be roughly fifteen years younger than the gaang, so it would make sense for them to still be alive (since raava could return to aang and still maintain them well enough) during mako’s era. do you think they could take on a mentor or distant relative role for mako? maybe being half-avatar would make them the world’s only dual bender, and they would understand mako’s struggle with wielding more than one element in a way no one else would be able to. bonus points if the styles they maintain are either earth and fire or the ‘opposite’ elements (like air+earth/water+fire—water+fire would be good to use to teach balance and that fire is not only to harm but to nurture, and that water parallels it as not only to nurture but to harm)
and that brings me to my third thought; both avatars followed in series have had a conflict or struggle with their bending. aang had to learn the other three types of bending—his conflict was finding teachers. korra needed to find it in herself to flow with the winds of airbending. but copying korra would be lame. so what’s mako’s conflict?
there’s where my pitch comes in (and kind of the point of the half-avatar); mako figured out how to use air, earth, and water as well as he uses fire (if with less refinement) within maybe a week (if that) of being discovered as the avatar. he’s a scraggly street kid used to clawing at what he can get and holding on tight: being discovered means he doesn’t have a particular reason not to make use of the other elements if need be, so he figures out how.
but the key words there are if need be. he absolutely can lift a chunk of earth five times his size, or entirely soak a full grown adult in pond water, or slap someone around with a strong gust of wind or power a building for a month with a bolt of lightning. will he be doing any of this? no. not unless his or bolin’s lives or livelihoods are threatened. mako’s struggle is that outside of life-or-death combat? he’s about the same as a nonbender. because bending has always been a risk—a life threatening and life ending risk—and one he isn’t willing to take unnecessarily. his journey is learning that bending can be used for more than harm or to enforce fearful order.
fourth and kind of final thought for avatar mako for now—he’s the earth avatar in this, but he looks very fire nation in canon (at least, my understanding of ‘fire nation’ v ‘earth kingdom’ features) so I was thinking, the avatar represents the four nations (kind of five now if we’re counting republic separately) (oh my god new thought what if there was an rc avatar ‘whose avatar is it’ ‘air by my guess’ ‘nah it’s republic city’s turn now’ ‘how does that even make sense? their blood is of the four nations.’ ‘I don’t make the rules man. ask the spirits, they’re right there.’) but they always look like the nation they’re from so. what if all the avatars look a little mixed but just lean heavy into native. so mako looks like a mixed kid already (though I’d make him more ek—will specify in a sec) but then just gets more mixed from. everywhere. but it’s not even generalized like,,, he looks like he’s from specific subcultures the last avatars came from. earth part looks kyoshi even though his dad wasn’t from the island. fn part looks like caldera city even though mom wasn’t. air—less noticeable, but he looks like aang, in a way. very temple-kid-y and less nomad-y. if that makes sense. and I’d say water part is kuruk but there’s also the ‘avatars look like their past life’s lover’ so. katara (ADDING TO THE PARALLELS IM GOING INSANE)
so this is the part where I elaborate on the ‘more earth kingdom’ part of mako’s design in my head. this also is part of the avatar-looking-like-lover thing. so ek complexions are pretty ranged, but a good deal of them are darker skinned. mako’s pretty fair, but I propose as a kid whose dad is white-brown (he’s an Italian farmer boy who tans heavy and he looks brown) and is also white-brown when I spend too long outside (ten minutes) in the summer; mako who tans so quick into a more typical dark ek tone. also bolin is darker because he deserves melanin. he gets to keep gold eyes cause they’re cool but I propose.. heterochromia!!! green/gold, could be some grayish/blue? js an absolute melting pot in there. then I associate ek with less pronounced but boxier facial structure, so either his face stays like,,, long, and is softer or stays sharp and is boxier like bolin’s. honestly prefer the first one but both are neat. also hooked nose. I don’t make the rules. katara also has a hooked nose btw it’s real I saw it.
also mako and katara have the same glare (sokka told me) and they scrunch their faces up like little carbon copies of each other when they’re focused. by the way I love to parallel the shit out of katara and mako can you tell,,
I just realized I wrote a longpost length ask. I’m so sorry.
I think I had something else to say but it’s getting late and it’s a school night 4 me so I’ve gotta get to sleep.
rest well! your favorite anon,
🐌
ah hello sorry for the extremely late response snailon!
I honestly think there’s nothing more than elevator music behind bo’s eyes in canon because if the creators allowed anything else it would solely be The Horrors
tbh you're so correct about this. let bolin have Feelings, 2024!!! (i find it so interesting that the general consensus is that bolin is more well-liked by the lok fanbase, but mako's fans are deep in the trenches whereas it's a lot harder to find active bolin fans. i stay forever respectful of the even fewer of them out there. not entirely sure how to articulate it, but yeah. bolin deserves better both from canon and the fanbase and one day i'll have to deconstruct his entire existence because he's just a fascinating creature who represents sort of a paper cutout of a stereotype
which, for the record, is not to say I like [mako's] hair. I want him to grow it out more so he stops looking so fucking dumb with his stupid pointy ass hair (I really really really hate mako’s hair)
HAHA that's valid. tbh i'm pretty neutral towards it; i like s1-s3 hair better than s4 hair because while i think that mako's poor attempt to comb himself into some semblance of Proper Society is pretty accurate to his character, i'm just not a big fan of it (though the fact that it looks bad is probably a further testament to his character never finding proper integration into society)
he’s just a girl (insert sad coquette hamster)
again. coughing at the essay i'll never finish writing on this. (okay off topic but i really really love transfem mako so much but also just fem mako in general and i need to put this out into the world. early lok fandom was on a seriously good kick when they were all drawing and writing lesbian makorra is my confession. mako being a girl makes my brain whirr)
also if you have any,, fic recs,, I would be very not opposed,,,,,
fic recs list i've written up but there's a lot of other good ones out there. immediately off the top of my head, people whose writing on mako i really like in general include slacktension (incredible author & artist from original airing with a mako voice of all time and great character dynamic exploration), rockingthegraveyard (best mako & bolin dynamics), wastetimeandtype (i especially like their casual ship fics and they made me an accidental fan of huan/mako), deerstalkerdeathfrisbee (wuko author but their mako voice is impeccable), bobtailsquid/steinbecks (another author from original airing whose writing style is just so poignant and accurate to character), themanofmanyhats, and velkynkarma. idk how you feel on makorra specifically but i confess, i accidentally really do like them and there's a lot of good stuff on ao3/ffn for them that i could share :P and i too am a fan of makorrasami but tragically, there's not a lot of that out there; however, all of old_and_new_friends' makorrasami works are fantastic. they're a multishipper who writes a lot of mako and very well, and while while i haven't read a lot of their fics because not all the ships speak to me, the ones i have read are all great. so yeah i'd suggest you take a look to see if there's anything there up your alley!
raava gets really fucking confused being in their first ever mixed kid and just. skips right back to air after mako. would that not be the funniest shit ever. like the earth kingdom would already be pressed that their go was a mixed kid who was a criminal firebender for the first bit of his life, but imagine how the FIRE NATION feels having their avatar “skipped over” because mako (again, CRIMINAL FIREBENDER) was technically a fn avatar.
okay this is actually so funny what LMFAO i didn't take into consideration that the avatar of the generation being from your nation is probably generally a point of pride and that mako's general existence is like,, the greatest possible insult to that in all the ways khsjdfbhfhsdbh i might have to casually include that in some outsider pov because the sheer comedy potential oh my god
do you think they could take on a mentor or distant relative role for mako?
i realize i probably didn't word it very explicitly in my initial explanation of this au, but what i actually meant was that raava couldn't leave the non-aang host entirely until their death because her presence was vital to their living. it's casually playing off the theory that yue was meant to be the water avatar, and so she was born sickly because of the absence of spiritual energy her destiny had intended for her — that raava's presence plays a role in the sustaining of her host's life. to sum up what i mean: raava is the vital life juice infused in the destined avatars. (roughly. it's been a while since i looked at this theory lol) therefore, while they continue to live independently of aang's actual death, raava can't move onto the next avatar until this not-avatar also dies. so they are very much dead as mako's immediate predecessor. but it's a great idea and i love that your brain thinks this way!
mako’s struggle is that outside of life-or-death combat? he’s about the same as a nonbender. because bending has always been a risk—a life threatening and life ending risk—and one he isn’t willing to take unnecessarily. his journey is learning that bending can be used for more than harm or to enforce fearful order.
oh interesting take. i can see that. in planning this au, i was thinking more among the lines of him only viewing bending other than fire to be a risk, and that he only ever figured out earthbending up until the point of where the story starts, but yeah i didn't really consider which element would be his block. he's honestly a pretty versatile guy in my opinion — i feel that he moves in a very airbender way (read: korra's spiral-motions in a leaf in the wind are meant to demonstrate her picking up mako's style of deflection, evasion, and waiting to strike), but his mannerisms are very earthbender in his stability in reality/rooted nature despite his lack of general stability in life. obviously he's got the firebender in him; i think he has a lot of pent up emotions and he generally represses them very well, but when it does get unleashed then he has a very typical-firebender explosive sort of manner. (i'm still adamantly against the take that he's a hotheaded no-thoughts raging firebender man though LMAO i don't understand how it's such a thing. sorry for the tangent. i'm resigned.) and for water, i feel it's adjacent to air in being less about head-on motions, and it's pretty reflective of mako's tendancies of roundabout-ness when it comes to matters of the heart. i don't really know how to articuate it but he has the most waterbender vibe. it's the katara so what i'm saying is that i don't really see him struggling with any of the elements in the way aang struggled with earth and korra with air, and you pose an interesting point. i'm not sure if your proposal would be in line with my current planning of this au, but it's still a really interesting idea that i'll mull over! it's a neat segway into the whole amon/equalists arc that i'd never cover but would still be set in the near future and i like the concept. thank you for sharing :)
but he looks very fire nation in canon
oh yeah i agree LOL i've seen edits of switching mako & bolin's eye colors (+ that iconic screencap from s1e2) and as much as it doesn't suit him i still stand by that he SHOULD'VE had green eyes and bolin gold. it's a small detail i've seen randomly included in a couple fics from way back when and it always makes my heart happy haha. i agree that lok dropped the ball in terms of portraying all the mixed families that exist in the series and that there was so much potential there, both with mako & bolin as main cast characters and background in the kataang kids (plus by proxy the airkids) — not just in the crossover of cultures, but just physical character design as well.
(also katara & mako parallels actually drive me crazy too lhfdhgksfjd)
(gonna be real dude by the time we finish feeding off of each other we're going to have oc-ified mako so much that he's not even from the legend of korra anymore)
i really love receiving your asks!! <33 but yeah this was a long one so it took a while to find the time to sit down & deconstruct into halfway cohesive responses. i'd love to chat about mako with u more in greater detail but it's a little bit tough with these longass askbox exchanges </3 i'll just put it out there — if you're comfortable, feel free to reach out to me from your main and we can talk through dms! and if not i'll always be happy to receive you in my inbox; just know that my responses will tend to be delayed because i have a lot going on in my life haha. it's lovely to hear from you again :)
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archiveikemen · 2 years
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Abe no Yasuchika Main Story: Chapter 4
Side Story [His POV]
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting┊aikm’s Genjiden Glossary
On the day Yuno-san and I visited the court noble Sanemitsu-sama’s mansion to solve the problems caused by a living spirit—
(I’ve collected the evidence I need, let’s return to Yuno-san.)
Yuno-san was kind enough to treat Sanemitsu-sama’s injury, but…
Yasuchika: Unfortunately, there are some who take advantage of other people’s good intentions.
The newly obtained evidence was proof that Sanemitsu-sama was a scumbag.
I hurried to the room where Yuno-san was in.
That was when I heard a loud voice coming from behind the sliding door…
Yuno: … Your status and wealth are worthless when you have a black heart.
(… Is she angry? What happened to the gentle Yuno-san?)
Dignified, angry words ripped through the air.
Yuno: I feel sorry for the girl who loved you so much that she ended up in this state. 
Sanemitsu: What did you just say…!?
Sanemitsu: You are nothing more than a lowly commoner. Don’t think you can get away with this.
I frowned when I heard how agitated Sanemitsu-sama sounded.
(If a high ranking court noble threatened me that way, I could be terrified too. I can’t imagine what Yuno-san’s feeling right now.)
People who trample on the weak disgust me.
I slid open the door and stepped into the room. 
(Ah…)
— For the first time, I thought that Yuno-san looked beautiful as she glared at Sanemitsu-sama with a pair of determined eyes, despite how pale she was. 
(But… what on earth is this?)
Yuno-san’s delicate wrist was being grabbed so tightly…
The moment I saw that, the uneasy feeling in my stomach grew at least a hundred times worse. 
Yasuchika: What are you doing to my lovely assistant? I’d appreciate it if you'd keep your hands off her. 
(First of all, I need to let Sanemitsu-sama know what I think.)
Letting my emotions take over, I laughed coldly.
After dealing with Sanemitsu-sama, Yuno-san and I headed to the house of the woman who sent the living spirit.
On the way home after exorcising the ayakashi and placing a seal on the living spirit…
Yasuchika: I’ll monitor the situation for a few more days before closing the case.
Yuno-san heaved a sigh of relief at my words.
Yasuchika: You’ve worked hard, Yuno-san.
Yuno: All I did was watch from the sides.
(Just watching?)
Yasuchika: You examined the woman and prescribed her medicine to replenish all the nutrients she lost.
Yasuchika: Her father and I are very grateful for your help.
Yuno: … It wasn’t much but I’m glad I could be of help.
(You’re saying that it “wasn’t much” when you should be proud of yourself.)
(That must be how normal it is for you to do what you did just now.)
Yuno: Yasuchika, you’re a kind person. 
Yasuchika: …
(— I don't deserve that kind of praise.) 
The words Yuno-san thought were only a casual comment caused a dull ache in part of my chest, a part no one could trample on. 
Yasuchika: You think so? 
Yuno: … Am I wrong? 
(As expected, she’s pure but not stupid.) 
Yuno-san seemed to have noticed the slight change in my mood and looked straight at me with a questioning face. 
Yasuchika: Everything I’ve done is part of my job.
Yasuchika: Only the most sorrowful of people become living spirits.
Yasuchika: No matter how hard I try to seal a living spirit, as long as the resentment and sorrow remain, it will only grow stronger.
Yuno-san’s eyes widened slightly when I answered her matter-of-factly. 
Yuno: Yasuchika…
Yasuchika: I got to the root of the problem because I wanted to prevent the same situation from happening again.
Yuno: That’s why you lied to them? 
Yasuchika: Because sometimes, the truth hurts more than lies.
Yasuchika: Knowing that the person you hate regrets their actions can potentially soothe the anger that’s eating you from inside out.
Yasuchika: And if you get the money to lead a comfortable life, you might forget the pain of your past.
(I chose the method that would give me results, not the one that was morally correct.) 
After a moment of silence, Yuno-san opened her mouth to speak again. 
Yuno: To me, it still seems like you did all that out of kindness.
(A real kind person would never have done what I just did.) 
“— Be kind to others, Yasuchika.”
(I can never forget the words His Majesty Akihito once taught me…) 
(They’re just repeating themselves in my head over and over again.) 
A bitter smile appeared on my face as I stopped walking. 
Yasuchika: … It’s too bad you think that way.
Yasuchika: I was only pretending to be kind. 
The moment I said that, I knew what was that uneasy feeling I got from Sanemitsu-sama. 
(Ah, right.)
(Yuno-san still got mad on that woman’s behalf, even though she was attacked by her living spirit.) 
(She was willing to do that for her despite being afraid… that’s what “real kindness” is.)
That’s why I detested Sanemitsu-sama for wanting to hurt her. 
(Long story short… I envy Yuno-san.)
And so—
Yuno-san’s existence would continue to stir the emotions in my heart. 
I felt like that presentiment was stabbing me in the heart—... 
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I feel like admitting this makes me sound like the most privileged prissy person ever.
Because I’m genuinely so thankful for the support from the government I’ve been able to get because of my mental illnesses. I’m grateful I have the dsp. I’m grateful I haven’t been kicked out by my family. I’m grateful my NDIS application got approved. Genuinely I am.
But I think I’m using them now to further curl into my bubble. There is no need for me to leave the house. There is no need for me to get a job. There is no need to try. I’m not put in a place of need or necessity.
I want to be able to work , but at the same time I lack energy and motivation and the drive to do something more then one day in a row. And I don’t need to. I have a place. I pay my board. I get my money from the government.
And now with the ndis I’ll like get appointments paid for too. At least partly.
It’s keeping me afloat in this room. I get paid to sleep and walk around the house like a zombie feeling sorry for myself and crying and cutting myself and sleeping because I’m not allowed death.
No close connections. No people around me. No progression. Nothing made. And it’s all my own fault. Because my mind is so shattered I don’t have the energy to do anything other then wish I wasn’t me.
I’m not allowed to die. I know that. My dying would be the equivalent of taking someone else’s life with the domino effect it would have.
But I can’t live either. I just can’t bi have few things I hope for in this world and I have no way of obtaining them and it’s entirely my own fault and yet I still feel too emotionally and spiritually dead to do anything because the weight of my broken heart and shattered expectations keep me looked in this room.
It’s no ones fault but mine. I’m unaccomplished because of myself bum ugly because of myself. I’m a let down because of myself. I’m unmotivated because of myself. I’m lonely because of myself.
But I don’t have the strength to fix this. I just don’t anymore. I’m not engaging with therapy properly. I’m taking every chance I can to have an appointment over the phone so I can go right back to sleep and not have to get changed. I’m just boiling in this pot of jealousy and bitterness and regret yet I’m too damn stupid and broken to do anything about it so I just sit in it.
I don’t have anything to wake up for other then the sole purpose of letting a few people know I’m still alive so they won’t be too heavily affected. Sometimes I’ll get a little burst of an idea thinking “it would be cool to do this thing” and then I burn out from it, get no motivation and hate myself so much that I get insecure over the things I do to the point where I can’t look at them without getting angry at myself for not getting better.
But it’s no wonder my mind is declining. I don’t do anything. I stare at my phone or watch shows or read romance or sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. I’m under stimulated intellectually because over over stimulated emotional. I’m too tired and sore and broken to do anything. I just want to fall asleep and never wake up again so I don’t have to deal with this. But I know I’m not allowed to.
So I just selfishly take these resources and use them to keep myself afloat in this little dark box ive shut myself in. And I hate myself for it.
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hannahleekuhn · 1 month
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31 and Figuring It Out
In March I got laid off. I had been working for the same company in a flexible position, that I loved, for nine years. In the time since my layoff I have been working solely as a freelance photographer and spending most of my time applying to jobs and playing trad wife at home. Not to say I haven't appreciated my first real summer in almost a decade, while also noting that I haven't really spent all that much time outside or playing with my friends while dreading the return to the classroom......but again I am 31 so life wouldn't feel like my childhood summers. I am fully ready to never clean another dish or do another load of laundry again, but I hear that's a lifelong thing too. Oh well.
The photography has been rewarding, I have more time to connect with clients and be more hands on in planning and communication. Editing has been happening faster and I find the pacing of the editing easier when I don't have to fit it into every single evening after working full time. The problem is once the winter hits, I don't have another wedding for 6 months and 6 months without an income is a huge, giant, super super scary upcoming deadline.
I've applied to so many different things, have hardly got any responses. I've had 1 interview, which didn't even seem like they were interviewing me for a job, just trying to find out information about a competing company. And with all of the rejections saying I have too much experience, not enough experience, or just the automated response email that says I didn't pass the pre-screening.....as a neurodivergent human it's hitting pretty hard emotionally. Not to mention my partner who is financially paying for every single bill we have and it's still not enough for us to break even every month....helllllllo guilt. It's a lot.
I got rejected for an $18/h cleaning job because I had no prior experience in cleaning professionally and I am starting to really understand why people are so angry they went to college. I mean I was told over and over and over growing up that to have a degree from a 4-year university and to get good grades and have honors and internships under my belt would guarantee steady employment for the rest of my life. HA. I'm not trying to be pessimistic either, I still fully believe I can get a job and the right one is out there, I just haven't found it yet. Or maybe it hasn't found me yet. The problem is there are plenty of jobs that would hire me on the spot, in fields I have no experience in, and the catch......they still wouldn't cover our bills or allow me the flexibility I need to still be running my business, which I have clients booked in for weekdays/weekends for months still to come, so I need something flexible.
Everyone has been so kind, my friends and family are all giving me links to any jobs they see that suit me and my experience, even some jobs that don't. They all empathize and are looking out for me, and so far I still have nothing to show for it. I'm starting to really doubt myself as a person, a partner and even just a member of society. Losing my job felt like losing a piece of myself that I loved so much and relied on mentally and emotionally.
If anyone by chance reads this and is hiring for $25/h I can do photography, graphic work, editing, social media, brand management, merchandising, design for email campaigns, I've designed layouts for catalogs, production work......heck i'll even answer calls and emails you don't want to do. I also can nanny or house sit or walk your dog or mow your lawn. At this point I'll organize all your Tupperware in the kitchen. Seriously. I live in Minneapolis if that helps anyone.
Okay now I do sound desperate. I know. I am doing my meditations and affirmations and still applying to everything that could work. I just feel lost. I hope this phase of my life leads to something better. I am really tired of struggling to maintain the world I built as it crumbles down around me. The bricks are heavy and cost too much.
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catis15 · 3 months
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the US military's sole and express purpose is to kill people. Any purpose they claim to serve outside this can only be accomplished by killing people. by joining the military you have made it clear that the tens of thousands of innocent people the US has murdered throughout history mean less to you then getting a tuition. It doesn't matter whether or not you see active combat, you have willingly made yourself a part of a machine thats only purpose is to kill people.
also, its 2024, everyone knows jk rowling is a cryptofacist terf who allies herself with conservative bigots in order to more efficiently harm trans people. Take your fucking harry potter houses out of your bio.
Ight now that I've had some time to reflect and just not be in a pissy mood-
1. Stop anonymously asking shit, if you care that much and I am assuming all of these have been the same person, then just ask with your account.
2. A militaries only purpose isn't always to kill. I fully admit America is fucked, we're a shit country and I can only hope and work my ass off to one day have the power to fix it. But that's like saying the polices only job is to shoot ppl, it's not we as a country have just been led astray far too much and it's not getting better
3. I think a lot of things to do I politics and military can be solved very differently than they are now, it's an Ongoing problem. Violence isn't the only out, but it's the way things are handled nowadays unfortunately
4. I don't think they mean less, death fucking sucks no matter what. But at the end of the day, almost everything is related to violence, I can cry about it and block my own full, or I can make the most logical decision I can in my situation and do my best to ensure my future because I'm the only one looking out for me same as anyone else
5. I've made entire posts about the harry potter shit so I won't spend much time on it here but to sum it up, yeah jk Rowling can go to hell for all I care, I participate in the community that has walked away from her and taken the fandom into our own hands. Separate from the author Harry Potter is a cool universe and if your on the right side of it, has a pretty cool group of ppl surrounding it. It was a huge part of my childhood and a fandom can absolutely separate itself from a shitty creator
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