#im so sick and tired of feeling this way every goddamn year

[petvles]

...

[mugiwara--ya]

I've been applying to jobs like crazy for months and months and months and every interview feels like this time its finally gonna happen and when it doesn't i just feel this crushing fucking hopelessness and i try not to get discouraged and stay positive etc but. god.

right now im super sick and i took the day off to rest and i keep feeling guilty that im not using every waking second to look for a job. i feel like i should start taking commissions but i KNOW i cant commit to it. i could work on graphic design but they fucking kicked me out of school after nearly 2 goddamn years of them wasting my time so i dont even have a degree and i dont even want to look at my apps n tools most days bc of the sheer fucking burn out im in. i could post the tons n tons of finished art i got collecting dust on my folders and maybe maybe maybe get some tips from it but i simply cannot move past my anxiety so i just dont. i wanna do so much stuff but im paralyzed bc my absolute priority is to find a job that can get me out of here and i literally cannot think of anything else. i feel ungrateful all the goddamn time bc at least i dont have to worry about food bills and a roof over my head.

i am 28 years old and 100% dependent on my family. i don't and WON'T have a degree. i'm chronically ill. i've been on psych meds for about a year and while mentally ive literally never been better, i'm dealing with the consequences of 27 years of untreated adhd, undiagnosed autism, several mental illnesses, plus extremely fresh and violent trauma from the massive fires where i live and i keep fucking having nightmares and panic attacks over it and its been like two months and i'm so fucking tired. i have next to no work experience and my last "real" job was on 2015 so i have to bullshit my way through interviews and so far no one has fucking called me back.

im just complaining rn bc fuck its getting real fucking dark over here but rn im just worried sick about my partners. they're living together at the moment and they can barely get by. i already reblogged their donation posts and i'll make one linking to them just for idk reach or whatever so please if you read til here wait for that post to go up and please please please help them so at least i can have that peace of mind, if nothing else.

[misetiverecon]

It's supposed to get better. I've seen it time and time again, and all it does is annoy me .

When am I ALLOWED to get better? When is it enough? When do I stop punishing myself for things that happened almost a year ago? When do I get to be happy without feeling like shit after? When do I get to eat and not worry about weather or not your treating yourself right? When do I get to feel human?

I'm so sick and tired of having little to no motivation. I'm tired of falling asleep with cut and bruised thighs, even if it's self inflicted. I'm tired of being and feeling powerless and useless. I'm tired of feeling like an emotional sack of shit. I'm so tired of feeling like I don't matter. I'm so sick and tired of feeling disgusting in my own body and mind.

What I've done and said to you cycle around in my head all day. What you've said and done to me cycle with it. Every single day I relive the moment when I first lost control. Everyday I feel guilt when I remember you saying that you'd feel bad for me if I didn't kill myself. Every fucking day, I'm forced to go back to that room that you almost died in. It doesn't stop. Sometimes the cycle will pause, but always starts again. Sleep is my only escape.

I still cry for you and what you went through. It tears apart my heart to know I could have and should have done so much better. I hyperventilate over the fact that I'll never be able to get back what I lost when you ended our relationship.

I knew we were toxic together. But we thought in the end everything would be fine. You and I overlooked every red flag because of it. Instead of solving our issues, we ignored them. We only talked about how we could have avoided things after a breakdown. We never told each other what was really wrong until after we blew things to pieces.

You say you knew we wouldn't last long, but I trusted you when you made promises. I believed you when you said I'd be yours forever. I trusted you when you said we'd truly be together one way. I was naive and stupid, but I still feel like you led me on. I also feel bad for thinking it, and I'm angry with myself because you felt like you had to protect me from the reality of what was happening.

I know I hurt you, and that what you did back, I deserved. But the time you called the cops on me, the time you lied to my mother... I can't over look those. You trust me with so many things, yet I can't trust you. It's always double standards with you. You'll tell me to be safe, but at the same time be hurting yourself every night. I know it's not your fault. I know you have mental health issues. But still upsets me. You have such low standards for yourself.

It makes me feel like crap that I can't help you. That I can't fix your problems.

I hate how you've moved on, while I'm still stuck here in this never ending loop. I want it stop, but the only way to do that is to end my life. I know you don't care weather I'm alive or not. You've said that to me directly. But if you don't care, why do we still talk? Why do you still want to know how im doing? You say so many things that contradict over things you've said. I know you don't mean to be, but your so goddamn confusing.

All that said, I'm still in love with you. Unlike you, I ment it when I said I'd love you forever. But God, I wish I didn't love you. It hurts to love you.

[creativebrainrot]

Open Journal Entry

long one. TLDR: This fucking house sucks and it's never felt like a home to me. I want out but the WAITING,,,,, its suffocating. we'll be out eventually. Im so sick of waiting though. I miss the. eight months, where I felt truly alive for the first time in my entire life. I want a car back. I want to move out. I want to leave all this misery and abuse behind us already. I want a life. I am going insane.

But the horrors wont fucking win because I am NOTHING if not fueled by spite and fury.

I wanna talk about my experience with this house I'm currently stuck in, and have been stuck in for 22 years now.

I do not have a single memory of feeling safe within this house, or a single memory of enjoying this house. I have memories of enjoying the wilderness nearby, the front yard, the back yard, the creek way out back. But not the house.

I felt safe in the bath as a kid. I feel safe dissociating in the shower. I have spent ages avoiding being fully-lucid in this house. Numbing myself by diving into video games, the internet, consuming media like video essays about random shit, political commentary, let's plays, etc. Anything that I could hide in and avoid being aware of my situation with.

Music and art were big ones for escaping.

Everything about this house is falling apart.

I finally felt alive for the first time in my entire life in 2022. And yet. 2022 had the worst months of my entire life within it.

And now. I'm stuck. Waiting. Again. Just like I have been my entire fucking life. Stuck, in the middle of nowhere, without people my age, without places I enjoy seeing, without people who care in my offline personal life.

Waiting. For the day my dad can tell me we are finally free.

We had no idea that we had so much legal bullshit we needed to sort after my father died in late january this year. So, we've had to deal with all of it; the confusion, the legal shit, the pain, the helplessness, etc, as we discover every new fucking step we weren't told about and couldn't find the answer to. because we're both neurodivergent, and traumatized. that affects a lot of what we are able to do and what we aren't.

I'm fucking tired of announcing what should be good news, over and over and over, only to find that there's more fucking waiting on the other side. Hope, hurts. Right now everytime I start to hope I start to hurt so i've just been living in numbness since march this year.

The pump & water is fucked up, we have to work around it. We have running water, but we have to turn off the pump everytime we're done using it.

The AC is broken. It was replaced a few years ago and now it's the wrong type of AC for our house. It doesnt fucking work and our bedrooms are little ovens because of it. I have had to move my mattress into my studio, the only room with a window AC.

I have been stuck with a fucking twin bed since I was 15. Which, while technically a useable size for me, I cannot begin to unravel and to explain the kind of demoralizing and humiliating being stuck with the same fucked up "not a real bed or Adult Mattress" is for me.

Fucking bugs get inside ALL THE GODDAMN TIME.

We haven't been able to work doordash for MONTHS now and I miss that routine so goddamn much.

I finally had a real life for the first time ever in my entire life, and its gone. Because we were lied to. Kept in the dark. Didn't realize how bad our situation was, until it was too late.

The only reason we are okay, is because of kindness from my friends and kindness from our neighbors.

I just want this to be over now.

I have never felt happy in this house. My dad and I never have the energy to clean it. I barely have the energy to take care of myself. I used to work out and exercise, I used to feel so happy. We ate good food and I got to cook and have fun and feel normal for awhile.

then the car broke down.

This house has always felt either neutral or fucking miserable. I've watched so many beloved pets die in this house. I've only ever been abused in this house. I've felt so fucking depressed in this house.

It's not even in an area where I can escape to a friend's house, or walk to a park, or enjoy any amenities. Because it's in the middle of fucking nowhere, retirement neighborhoods for rich old white republicans who wouldn't fucking speak to us if they knew who we really were. It's only because my dad masks as a ditzy old white lady that they're so nice to him.

I hate it here. I've been suffocating here long enough. I can't handle another year.

I think it might break me.

Everytime I'm remotely fully lucid in this house, I feel like shit. I remember things that I want to forget. I've dreamed of moving out and having my own place since I was a child. I thought my life would be better when I was 19- to be kind to fate, it was. Much better when I was 19. But not the normal fulfilling life I wanted to have.

I want out because everything we are currently dealing with is residual abuse from my father's financial abuse of us.

I need to leave this place. There's so much fucking sorrow and pain here for me that I just want to forget and move on from. not to mention this state it's self is fucking miserable to live in.

And, we will be. It's just the waiting. The waiting hurts. But I'd rather keep waiting for a brighter tomorrow than do something I can't take back.

I want to see our pets happy and healthy again, in a house with furniture for them. Collars with their name tags and vet tags on them. All fluffy and talkative and cute again.

I want better healthcare access so that I can stop panicking about my dad's mortality- he's fine, but I am so scared I'll lose him to something avoidable before we have the stability to get checkups and such. I want the option available to fucking transition already. I need HRT. Life is so fucking miserable everyday that I can't start being myself finally.

I want a house that I actually like. A place that represents new opportunities and new memories and REAL TRUE FREEDOM, freedom from all this abuse, freedom from my miserable first quarter of life alive. Freedom from debt that was never our fucking fault. A place I can be lucid in, and maybe actually have energy in.

And we'll probably get it. It's just, the waiting.

The second person we are attempting to sell this piece of shit to, is someone who purchases and flips houses for a living. He's offered the same amount of money as our neighbor did.

I'm so fucking glad that the paperwork is all on my dad's side and that we even HAVE a house to sell in this current climate.

Because that means we might get to move into the house my dad thought we were going to have all those years ago. I can't begin to tell you how many lies our abuser told us.

[stahfakz]

12/3 ughhh, I get it im having a massive whinge fest, but im going through a lot, and that anon tumblr user yesrs ago still fucked me up. I dont have anyone to vent to. Im not unappreciative of what i have, but i need to get this all out as a way to process everything.

Like, im taken back to when brock and i first broke up all those years ago, and i thought it would be really easy to be with someone else. But its not, no man commits. And thats why i kept going back to brock, cos at as fucked up as he was, he commited to me. And no one else could do that. And no one has, so i have no choice but to stay alone until someone comes along and commits. I will not give them anything until that happens.

Im tired of this stupid shit.

Brocks being nice to me, and im struggling to think that maybe we should have worked on our relationship, and i wouldnt be going through this shit....it is sooo goddamn painful.

Also, our kids sick, probs covid, so i have do all her usual chores, on top of everything else, and some dudes coming around tomorrow to fix the cupboard, and i have to work 2moro, and unclear if kid will be sick 2moro.

Annnnd thennnn, have to go into office on tuesday when im all fucked up to deal with all this shit with our sm, determine M's feelings and absolute lack of self confidence with tm.

Im trying really hard to cbt myself, but ffs, its like i spend every weekend processing my fucking feelings right now.

And thanks, yes i know im having a massive reset, and thanks to luke for providing me the thingos to read, and its helped a teeny bit, but i cant just go, oh im fixed, its not how it works.

And i love alex hes my best friend, but hes going through a lot at the moment too, and i dont want to burden him.

And to top it all off, i think ive started going through perimopause, so emotions everywhere and hot face frequently. Great. Thanks so fucking much, oh it also feels like i have boob cancer, and my teeth are all fucked.

Yay fucking me.

Christ, i just need a hug and from someone to tell me its going to be ok. But that doesnt fucking exist.

[flexmains]

.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Syndicate + gang leader au where Henry kills his brothers

Jacob x Henry because it’s healthier than Lanyon x Henry

-🦎

OK THIS ONE IM ACTUALLY GOING TO TRY TO STAY ON TOPIC TO AND JUST RAMBLE IDEAS AND HCS INSTEAD OF TRYING TO MAKE A GODDAMN MASTER LIST OF EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THE AU JFC HOW DOES THAT KEEP HAPPENING SDJFHSJDF

Anyways <3

Gang leader / Syndicate crossover au:

Henry is the youngest of the three brothers, Raphael and Kent are nonidentical twins. Henry is two years younger than them and has always been the baby of the group. Raphael and Kent have always been protective of him and also love to mess with him.

Their parents were abusive, Raphael and Kent decided to take the opportunity to leave Glasgow the first moment they got and they took Henry with them. They moved to London and one of their uncles-- who owned and inherited quite a successful shipping company by the London docks-- gave Kent and Raphael jobs as Henry went to university. The uncle died before Henry graduated, and left the business to Raphael and Kent.

Henry did not talk a lot to his brothers while in University. He tried to reach out to them but suddenly Raphael and Kent were "incredibly busy", Henry assumed they were busy trying to keep the family business going well.

He went to visit them on their dock after he graduated and got his doctorate. He had learned a lot about the London "culture" and gangs from Robert (and Rachel) telling him everything there is about the London underground and the aristocracy. Much to his horror, he arrived at the docks to find his brothers dressed as Templars.

Henry was quickly forced into the Templar order against his will. His brothers gaslight and manipulated him into joining, other members threatened to hurt him or his friends if he didn't join, and it ended up being Henry's biggest regret.

Henry spent about 13 years in the Templar order working in secret for it. He was allowed to do as he pleased as long as he made poisons for them. In the meantime, Henry tried to make up for the guilt he had from the suffering he had caused by helping people on the street. Hungry, dirty, sick people who quickly becoming loyal to the doctor who always feeds them and gives them what they need to survive.

In this part of the au, Henry more directly creates the gang. He realizes that these people are willing to fight for him and they have placed him on a pedestal. He can't get himself down from it so he takes advantage of it. He makes sure that the Society is under constant protection and that the gang brings in money that can be spent on taking care of the members and keep the Society afloat. No Lodger cares enough for the finances to notice the sudden influx of money, and Henry merely tells Rachel and Robert that it’s “sponsors”.

It was only when the Frye Twins entered and began to liberate London that he decided that it was the perfect time to finally break free from the Templar order. He had long since lost any love he still had for his brothers and he would do anything to be free again. He ended up cornering and murdering his brothers in cold blood while his gang distracted the Blighters, and he blamed the murders on the Frye Twins afterwards, the very same Frye Twins that quickly would... Well... Realize that they did not kill these Templars and instead try to track down the murderer that blamed it on them.

In the end, they find their way to Dr. Henry Jekyll's office. Henry had done a good job and working behind the scenes and no one had really suspected him of working for the Templars, so the twins-- while hearing from Greenie that it was rumored that the Jekyll Brothers and Dr. Henry Jekyll were related-- did not know that Henry himself used to be a Templar.

Henry, however, assumed they had broken into his office to kill him. He had already resigned himself to his own death, he was not going to fight it. He had burnt every photograph and document he had that connected him to his brothers and he had merely been waiting for the twins to come and kill him. He was, honest to god, quite disappointed when the Twins seemed confused and instead asked him if he knew anything about the murder of the Jekyll brothers.

"...The murder of my brothers, the Templars? The murder committed by someone close and well trusted by them, the murder that went undetected, and that was later blamed on you? The murder that had slank past the eyes of public after a convenient gang fight right that moment?"

It does not take long for the twins to realize what he is hinting to. His voice his bitter and his body language is cold, yet it doesn't sound like he regrets it.

ahaha anyways i ended up accidentally just retelling the entire thing well time for some actual hcs about this au branch.

Henry gets extreme paranoia after having murdered his brothers. He swears he can still see their faces of terror or hear their screams of pain and agony when he closes his eyes and try to go to sleep. He constantly feels followed by them, but he is too used with Hyde, so he doesn't pay attention to "them". When he doesn’t sleep, they silently follow him with whatever other hallucinations he have at the moment, like Moreau.

He wanted to be the one to murder his brothers himself, he didn't find it dignified to have someone else do the murdering for him. He generally does not want his gang to murder people, only hurt those of necessity, and he still wanted to give his brothers the dignity of not having to be killed by a random gang member.

Something in him kinda... Died that day. His friends, the Lodgers, and his very on gang could all notice how Henry seemed... Colder, more tired, constantly exhausted. He refused to tell anyone why, though, and he still did everything he needed to do so no one could force an explanation out of him. It was not until the newspapers reported on the murder that people realized that he was acting weirdly because his brothers had been murdered. Henry debated snapping his own neck once the Lodgers began to flock to him with words of sympathy, unaware that he was the murderer.

He is extremely benevolent to his gang, something many feared he wouldn’t be at first. He has always been a kind person and that’s why people began to flock to him as it was, but some feared that he would... Ah, turn crueler after a while like most gang leaders. That never happened, though. He saw each and every one of his gang members as his family, and took care of them as such.

He and his gang began teaming up with Lucy many years before either met the twins. It was always fun when Rachel tried to introduce the two of them without telling Henry that Lucy is... Well, Queen Lucy, and it was always fun to act as if they had never met before and as if Henry hadn’t just been invited to dinner the night before. Henry is really good friends with Patrin and Elise.

Henry’s gang wear blue. The Blighters wear red and before the twins and the Rook started, Henry didn’t want his own gang associated or reminding him of Hyde. Blue it was, and it easily made his gang slip into crowds and disguise themselves to be the Scotland Yard.

Neither Brokenshire nor Abberline knew about Henry’s gang until Abberline started working with the twins and until after Henry was “recruited” by them. Depending on if Henry murdered his brothers before or after he joined the twins, Abberline and Brokenshire helped him cover up the murder. 

Ahaha wow Uhm. I keep forgetting how I format and classify these as rambles but anyways time for some Jekyll x Jacob <3 This is just going to be in general btw so <3<3

Henry was incredibly endeared by Jacob from the moment he heard about him. Something about a tall, strong ruffian bringing justice to the streets of London (and fighting Templars) was just incredibly... Ah, attractive in Henry’s eyes. He actually allowed himself to feel that because hell, he works for the Templars and Jacob is supposed to be the enemy, Henry hates the Templars, why not be incredibly gay for the assassin?

Jacob shamelessly flirted with Henry from the first moment the met. Breaking into his office to figure out who murdered his brothers and Jacob could certainly not read the room. Henry was far too gone that he merely huffed and flirted back... Well, until they came to the topic at hand. Even in other branches were Henry was recruited by them to make poisons, or where they met in a gang fight, and Jacob still shamelessly flirts with Henry.

Jacob tries so hard to be romantic. Henry is incredibly amused by it. He will be working in his office late at night and Jacob will pop by his open window to demand attention. He will come back to his office after having ran son errands and there will be bouquets of fresh lavenders, lilacs, and tulips. Jacob will constantly “force” him (or, well, bribe him to leave his work) to go on dates with him, dates that consists of wandering the rooftops of London and watch the stars at night or have a nice dinner together. He loves to spoil Henry rotten <3

Jacob loves cuddles. Henry was not very physically affectionate at first. He was afraid that Jacob would end up doing the same thing Robert did to him and while he couldn’t keep away from him, Jacob made sure to take it slow for him. Their favorite pastime is to cuddle on one of the couches in the train after exhausting missions, and Henry finds that he can’t keep away from Jacob’s touch for too long.

Rachel and Robert began to introduce Henry into the more... Ah, illegal luxuries of the London life. They take him to a fight club and are highly confused when Henry suddenly gets incredibly excited as he watches his boyfriend kick the shit out of people. He completely abandons them and practically fall into Jacob’s (sweaty and slightly bloody) arms the moment the fighting is done. Both he and Hyde love to check out Jacob fighting in fight clubs.

(Jacob post-fight is probably the hottest sight Henry has ever seen and Jacob knows that fully well. Jacob often uses the money he wins from the fights buying gifts for his lil boyfriend <3). 

Another ideal date in the eyes of Jacob is highjacking Henry’s carriage and abducting him. It’s all fun and games until he accidentally does that when Jasper, Rachel, or Robert are in the carriage too. That was not fun for Henry to explain.

After Jacob and Evie have liberated all child factories, Henry makes a spur-of-the-moment decision to adopt Clara (the child who wanted the twins to free the children in the factories). Clara ends up getting raised by two very protective and very lovely-dovely dads. She spends most of her time in the Society (while still helping the kids on the street) but Jacob visits her and Henry a lot.

Look I just want Henry and Jacob to raise a kid that won’t come back and try to murder them later on ok.

Anyways on to some other hcs. Jacob loves to make sexual jokes to Henry. Henry either acts dumb and as if he doesn’t understand them, or he will shot them right back until Jacob is the one blushing (or highly embarrassed).

Jacob loves to break into the Society and follow Henry around but make sure he doesn’t see him. He will be parkour over the ceiling beams and all the Lodgers will notice and get extremely paranoid, trying to get Henry to notice it too because clearly something is up, Henry will completely ignore him most of the time.

Jacob rarely sleeps because his work as an assassin rarely allows him to, but once he and Henry starts dating he always makes sure to visit Henry during the night (or have Henry come to the train) so that they can cuddle and sleep together, knowing Henry won’t sleep by himself.

Henry is always the tiny spoon. Always. Jacob loves to hold him. Henry is always cold and Jacob is always warm so for Henry it’s like being wrapped in a blanket and for Jacob it’s like having an ice cube chilling down his overheated body.

Henry gets overwhelmed quite easily, both in general and with their actual relationship. As dramatic and clingy Jacob can be at times, he always gives Henry the space he needs and especially in the beginning, when everything was so new and Henry had to take his time to process everything. Jacob is always patient with him.

Henry likes to create stuff for Jacob. It can be everything from new poisons to new gadgets, to something as simple as a painting or a hand-made sweater he did himself. When the gifts became more... Simple, so to speak, he worried that Jacob wouldn’t like them, but Jacob absolutely loves and treasures anything Henry does for him, although he routinely gives the sweaters and clothing back so Henry can wear them, and so Jacob can get them back and it smells like his boyfriend <3

(Evie always finds Jacob cuddled up with the sweater in the mornings when they can’t be together. She thinks that it’s stupidly adorable).

Jacob stays in London after Evie and Green get married and move to India. He would originally have thought of leaving London to return to the Assassin Order in Crawley, but ultimately decided to stay with his lover in London. After the end events of TGS, the two of them buy a horse ranch out in the countryside where they retire. Jacob occasionally returns to London as the leader of the Rooks, and soon they begin on working to expand the gang to other cities. Henry doesn’t normally return to London, but always eagerly awaits his husbands return. By the time they have retired and moved, Clara goes to University in London, but she always makes sure to visit her dads inbetween her semesters.

They get to die a peaceful death after having lived a long and fulfilling life. Henry died first, his body having gotten weaker after many years of HJ7, and Jacob died only a few days afterward. Clara made sure they got buried in the same grave, and their little farmhouse and their belongings (and their story) has been passed down from generations ever since. 

Lydia, Jacob’s canonical granddaughter that lives through ww1, is instead Greenie’s and Evie’s grandchild for this au/ship.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

some advice for any of my younger followers:

i know that staying up til 3 am every night sounds fun or doing it every so often sounds fun as well. on top it it all, especially through your uni years, how long you stay to do assignments or in general and how little sleep and how you function on a daily basis and STILL get to class become some type of bragging rights and practically learned habits.

but goddamn. the older you get, the more it hits you. bc last night i accidentally stayed up til 3am and. holy shit. i feel so fucking sick. i’m so fucking tired. i had to nap and it still did nothing. so i slept a grand total of 2hrs 40mins last night, according to my sleep monitor on my fitness watch. while my usual average hours are around 6-7 hours. some times 6 or 5. im self-caring myself today by not going on my walk even though it’s sunny and nice. i had another night a few weeks ago where i stayed up til 2 am and i was ruined the next day.

this is obvs different if you’ve got adhd or anxiety or depression (i have the latter; i’m still hoping to see a therapist eventually to figure out if i have adhd or just anxiety/anxiety & depression) or other mental health issues or have autism (from what i’ve read on here, and in general). some people may function better on fewer hours of sleep idk.

but seriously though: everyone look after yourselves and your sleep. it’s not fun feeling like a sleepless train wreck everyday…. and i went through that before i got on my sleeping meds back in 2015… but also it’s how i feel now on nearly only 3hrs sleep. for the love of god. take care of your sleeping schedules. not getting adequate sleep every night isn’t a quirky or fun thing to do on the regular. it ruins your days and your overall daily life if done frequently and actually, for me, worsened my depression and anxiety while at uni (besides the fact that these things were keeping me up in general anyway but still).

and i guess the same thing could be said of oversleeping…. but i barely do that now like i was doing back when i finished high school in 2013 and til about 2016 with uni. just idek. look after your overall sleep health. because, either way, it’ll come back to fucking bite you when you’re older.

[takoyakitenchou]

masquerade ch.8

7? idk but this one isn’t on ff or ao3 yet i think

12:58 PM Nakiri Erina: Hi, it’s been a while. Are you free the day after tomorrow?

1:03 PM Yukihira Souma: how’d u get this #?

1:04 PM Nakiri Erina: Alice gave it to me. 

1:04 PM Yukihira Souma: sup

1:05 PM Nakiri Erina: I’m opening Kiralyno Haza. It’s not like I want you to show up or anything.

message opened

1:37 PM Nakiri Erina: Hello?

2:40 PM Yukihira Souma: hey sorry i just got on break. congrats nakiri!

2:41 PM Nakiri Erina: It was expected.

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: surprised it took you so long to open. hurry up and get your 3 stars bubs then we’ll really see who’s the better chef

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: and did you get tired of shinomiya or did he get tired of you?

2:42 PM Nakiri Erina: I got tired of him. Duh. Are you not coming?

2:42 PM Yukihira Souma: save 4 seats for me. i’ll be a balloon by the time im done w your food also i hope you have enough ingredients for a shokugeki after

“Ugh. You’re as shit at texting as ever,” Erina groaned, throwing down her phone, but then she picked it up again to stare at those four particular characters. Bubs. God, it had been so long since she’d seen that in her messages.

(under the cut to see souma and erina start to get their shit together lol)

To think that she had been the one to break the radio silence between them — good lord, that was fucking annoying. It was weird to think about. There had been plenty of opportunities for them to talk again, and yet they’d somehow managed to evade each other since they’d run into each other at Nakiri Mansion. Whether this was coincidence she had no idea, but Souma hadn’t been at the official Totsuki-sponsored 92nd gen alumni reunion, and Shinomiya had dragged Erina to some culinary conference that made her miss the freshman training camp where Souma threatened the living shits out of the poor first years but ended up not cutting anybody from the roster.

Erina had done her best not to linger on the fact that she had had to ask Alice for Souma’s new number, but goddamn would that remain at the forefront of her mind for the week following Kiralyno Haza’s debut until she got frustrated enough to the point where she damn near chucked her own phone out the window.

It was thanks to Alice that her condo was still in one piece.

The COO of the Nakiri-Totsuki Group was sitting next to her at a bar in Budapest, helping herself to her third shot of tequila, a few empty glasses and a growing tab between them. “Yukihira’s coming?”

Erina nodded, smiling despite herself. “Yeah. I guess he is.”

Taking sudden interest in her drink, Alice remained silent for a thoughtful moment before she said, “I haven’t seen you this happy since you two broke up.”

With a half-hearted huff, Erina scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

Alice gave her a long look. “I’m not kidding, Erina. Who was that other guy you were seeing? Darren?”

“Aaron. Darren was before him.”

“Doesn’t he have a 3000-seater concert hall named after him?”

“I couldn’t care less.” Erina said, and Alice knew it was 593% true. 

Whenever tolerating a guy got tedious, Erina had extinguished whatever spark he thought he had ignited, pretended to be hung up on it, and started over, systematically breaking hearts left and right, all the while building titanium defenses around her own.

And then, a year and half ago, she’d seen Yukihira Souma at Nakiri Mansion, and everything had changed. 

So. Much. Pining. Alice was more than a few years past sick of how long those two idiots were dragging their shit out.

Erina picked up her belongings. “We should probably stop day-drinking.”

“Sure,” Alice said, paying the tab before Erina could get her wallet out.

“I’ll pay you back for that,” Erina promised as they left the bar.

Alice put a hand on Erina’s shoulder. “You can pay me back by not fucking up your confession again.”

At this, Erina frowned. A withering counter should’ve been second nature, but she found herself incapable. She wanted to believe that whatever piece of her heart that had clung to the hope that Yukihira Souma would come back to her was nothing more than a memory. More than anything, she wished the voice at the back of her head telling her to move on and forget him and their past would finally win out, because there were people in her present waiting for her, and it would be a sin to ignore that.

But she couldn’t say the words; her heart belonged to Yukihira Souma — would always belong to him — and all broken promises and relationships notwithstanding, that was something she could not deny.

-

Although Souma technically hadn’t been invited to the kitchen for shift drinks when the front doors closed, he had taken the liberty of bringing a bottle of cab sauv that he and Erina finished in like ten seconds flat, to hell with sharing with staff, family, and friends.

The second she felt the words wanna come over? slip out of her atmosphere-drunk mouth, she knew it was going to take more self-control than she had not to demand he stay with her forever. 

“So, Yukihira,” she said like they hadn’t been catching up for the last two hours when they were sitting on the couch in her living room with pinot noir. “How’ve you been?”

The corners of Souma’s lips twitched. “Not bad,” he replied. “Mostly cooking. A few interviews and shit. I’ve been keeping up with all your stuff, by the way. Three tastings in twelve hours next Monday seems like too much, Nakiri.”

Erina frowned. “Even if you were as talented a stalker as Mimasaka Subaru, how the fuck would you know that?”

He held up his phone. “You were signed into my calendar app when I last downloaded a backup copy four years ago. So every time I get a new phone, I transfer all the old data.”

Erina stared at him, horrified. “Holy shit. You’ve seen everything?”

Shrugging, Souma said, “Not everything. Just… your dates with Darren. And Aaron. Also, I knew about Kiralyno opening before you texted me so I’d already cleared out my schedule by then.”

Erina had stopped listening halfway through. “Wait, Yukihira…”

“It’s okay, Nakiri.” Souma waved it off. “You’re here with me now. All that matters. Let’s not look too far into our past, yeah?”

“Don’t look into my future either, idiot! Sign out of my Google calendar right now!”

Souma shook his head seriously. “Sorry, Nakiri, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why the fuck not?”

He gazed at her intently and rested his chin on his fist. “I need to make sure I’ll still be in it.”

Erina rolled her eyes. “Don’t say sappy shit like that. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What if I just stayed?” he asked.

She sighed. “I think the question is, would I even let you? I thought we’re putting the past behind us? Don’t you want this back?” She pointed at the white cloth she was wearing on her wrist. His white cloth.

Souma ignored the second question and pulled Erina to him by her waist, close enough that she could feel his warm breath as he spoke, forehead brushing hers. “Another thing we both know is that you and I could never be just friends.”

“Take your hands off me or I swear I’m either going to spill my wine or kiss you, and I seriously do not care which.”

He leaned back with a sad smile. “You wouldn’t let me stay, would you, Nakiri?”

“I couldn’t,” she said helplessly. “We don’t even know where our lines are.”

“Do we need lines?” Souma asked, finishing his glass and balancing it on his knee. “You and I are beyond this dimension.”

Erina stared at him, memorizing every last square centimeter of his features — the way his hair seemed to get shorter every time they met until he somewhat resembled someone of his culinary pedigree; the way the creases formed on his sleeves along the contours of his toned arms.

“You know, Nakiri, if you let me stay, you wouldn’t have to stare so much.”

She tore her gaze from his collarbone, her whole face turning red. In all her twenty-one years, that had to be the most embarrassing moment of her life. “Shut up! I’m not staring!”

He was watching her with wistful eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if you were…” 

And they both heard it.

I wouldn’t mind if you were mine.

[pigeonxp]

YGCMA songs and how they relate to c!Wilbur based off of yesterday’s lore (in my biased opinion)

This is so dumb and i literally don’t care. I can’t think about anything else other than doing this synopsis even tho like 28480329204 other people are going to do it. idc. 

(I listened to the songs earlier, and i’m also listening to them as i write the opinions. these are basically just my thoughts while listening tbh. im also not doing the full song, just some things i feel relate within each song)

- Jubilee Line

the lines at the beginning of the song, “hate to see you leaving / a fate worse than dying” could relate to how wilbur feels after tommy gets pulled back into the overworld. or, he could be referencing L’Manburg and how he hates to see his country leaving him (ouch). 

then we have the lines “your city gave me asthma / so thats why im fucking leaving / and your water gave me cancer / and the pavements hurt my feelings”. This could be in relation to L’Manburg as a whole. He put everything he had into L’Manburg and it only ended up hurting him in the end. yikes. 

now we have “shout at the wall / ‘cause the walls dont fucking love you” repeated. This could be in reference to when he said he was fucking kicking and screaming to get out of the train station. hes screaming and he doesnt care because it doesnt matter to him. it doesnt love him just like how the people of L’Manburg didnt love him. wilbur get therapy challenge.

so based on the lore from yesterday, we know that c!wilbur’s limbo was a train station (props to fanartists. i love you.), presumably the YCGMA album cover type deal. when he sings “Theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the tube line / theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the rails” repeated. if the train station looks like how they do on the album cover, there could be barriers where he is. maybe hes trying his best to just kill himself over again by jumping onto the tracks. just in an attempt to escape. jfc 

“theres a reason they fail”. he was still in the train station, wasnt he?

- Saline Solution

for this one, i feel like hes pretty far into the void and regretting his decision to have phil kill him. hes tired of being in a fucking train station for years on end. 

“i think this time im dying / im not melodramatic / im just pragmatic beyond any / reasoning for thinking ive got / fuckin rabies or something.” hes so fucking sick of being in this goddamn train station and he thinks hes dying. hes so pent up and sick of being there, maybe hes just in so much pain that he feels like hes dying. if hes been there for a while, hes probably bound to go crazy at some point, hence the “pragmatic beyond any reasoning.”

“I think ive lost my mind / blurring the fact and the fictions” this feels like he really does believe hes going crazy and is mixing up the things he really knows and the things his mind is creating for him. maybe this is when tommy first arrived and he cant tell if he real or not (thats a stretch but i figured id share it anyway.)

“I think ive made my choice / im a deceased playing victim / slip the face, slip the victory” he quite literally says that hes a deceased playing victim. hes literally saying hes dead HAHHAHAH anyway. maybe hes blaming himself again, because us c!wilbur apologists all know that hes very good at doing that.

“Sit secluded in hatred /.../” hes sitting in a fucking train station for god knows how long beating himself up over and over again and just hating himself. hes all alone. with himself. someone he fucking loathes.

this is honestly all i have for Saline Solution, but i will definitely add more later if i get different theories. 

- Since I Saw Vienna

This is my favorite song on the album and my comfort song so that could factor into this bit ahaha

im going to skip through this one a little bit and go to the line “The roads are my home, horizons my target / if i keep on moving, never lose sight of it / treating my memory of you like a fire, let it / burn out, don’t fight it, try to move on” this sounds like hes reminiscing on his home in L’Manburg and his presidency was something he relied on and he would fight to get it back, but now that hes dead and said that it should remain that way that he should just let it go. trying to move on from his symphony, forever unfinished. 

 “its been sixty weeks since i saw vienna / a bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face / ill pick up my hiking boots when i am ready / and ill put down my roots when im dead.” THESE LINES FUCK ME UP IN GENERAL BUT HOW THEY RELATE TO C!WILBUR RN IS JUST SUIBHYSBUSHDXNSKJDNHBD YK???? in the context that vienna is L’Manburg and he died, its saying that its been a long ass time since hes seen it and hes faking being okay about his death. he misses it but doesnt want to admit it. the picking up the hiking boots when hes ready is him moving on from his L’Manburg, and putting his roots down when hes dead is finally being okay with not living there/being an important part of it. he believed his death was the best for the people in L’Manburg and L’Manburg itself. it seems like hes still trying to convince himself. 

“Ill be gone then, for when you must be alone.” hes gone. hes dead. hes in the train station. he left the L’Manburgians alone and hes alone in his limbo. man. 

- Losing Face

this song is angry. hes so fucking angry. my thoughts are that this is about the following presidents after him. he feels like the L’Manburgians were happier without him and im pretty sure he believed that even when Schlatt was president. this is so evident in the lyric “Is he better than me?” Hes literally asking if the other presidents were better than he was. he doesnt believe he did everything he could to be the best president, even though we all know that he gave everything that he was into that country and then some. he broke himself for the L’Manburg but he doesnt believe hes enough. sheesh.

“Ive seen him / ive been him / ive felt the same way” even though he cant see the new presidents being president, he knows what its like. he knows that they might break under the pressure. hes been there. he knows how if feels. yikes. 

“Ive lost all meaning / ive lost my sense of hope” this feels like when he was nearing the end of L’Manburg when he blew it up, and that he feels like trying to win it back is pointless. he has no hope for it anymore, so why not give up? his mental state is already shit yk so i cant really blame him for feeling that way. 

“i dont care / i want you here / as long as youre happy, i dont care” this line. this fucking line. hes lost hope in being president, but he doesnt care. he just wants the L’Manburgians to be happy. that was his whole thought process while he was president. he didnt matter to himself, he just wanted them to be happy. he sacrificed his mental state for them. cries in wilbur apologist.

- Your Sister Was Right

this is my second favorite song on the album i think HAHAHAH

anyway

“I use everyone i ever meet / i cant find the perfect match / abuse those i love / while i ostracize the ones who love me / back.” wowie wow wow fucking ouchie. He feels like he uses his friends. this whole thing is a projection of his shit ass mental state rn fucking hell. he feels like hes abusive. thats what everyones been telling him. they tell him he was awful and a shit president and all that jazz even though hes been killing himself trying to be the best for them but its still not enough (pigeon projecting? more likely than you think)

“every time that i miss you / i feel the way you hurt / and i dont deserve you / you deserve the world / though it feels like we were built / from the same dirt.” man. hes dead lol. he misses the L’Manburgians. not only were they his supporters, but they were all his friends too. every time he misses his friends he feels their pain of when he first blew up L’Manburg. he feels like because he caused them all pain that they dont like him and that they never liked him and that he is undeserving of their friendship. he still wants to be friends with them. he still loves them. he still wants the best for them. he thinks theyre so much better than him even though they all created L’Manburg together. in reality they are all the same, but their actions impact each other and he feels that his actions make him worse than them or less than. fuckisonmdfnpbhife

“and i hate to say it / but your sister was right / dont trust english boys / with far too much free time” sister is dream mayhaps. fuckngeionsfjg that hurt sorry uhhh anyway yeah sister is dream?? he did say that wilbur would be a shit president and he believes that hes a shit president so he thinks they were all right about him being a shit president  fbhjebinfnejg. maybe sister is just everyone who didnt believe in wilbur. man....

“a fucking waste of time” do i even need to explain this one? he fr doesnt belive hes worth it anymore and that hes literally a waste of time. hjkfbhnfve

- La Jolla

this one feels pretty far into train station limbo to me as well. namely from “and im lonely / there i said it” this could either be him being lonely as president and feeling like he doesnt have anyone to talk to really because hes too busy trying to hold himself together for everyone. either that or hes lonely in the station and didnt want to admit it because this is what he wanted. he wanted to die. he wanted to be dead because he believed thats what everyone else wanted and he just wanted the best for them. 

“i could go away / i could pack my things and be gone before you wake” he could leave if they asked him to. he would do anything for them. 

“you know ive tried hard to love me too / it always seems to fall in, through” this line already physically pained me but now it hurts even more having to relate it to a character i love. we already know that his mental state was declining as his presidency continued, but this would confirm that hes just trying to love himself even though he can never seem to get it right. 

“my own personal sunset” this is just the ‘this is my sunrise’ line but different. my man misses the sun. fuck. 

- I’m Sorry Boris

this song is almost definitely from a long ass time in the limbo. 

“and im sorry / but, boris / im leaving / im not good for anyone here” boris represents L’Manburgians!! hes talking about how hes leaving the world by planning on killing himself. fuck. 

“we reached the end of a decade” mans been dead for a decade. sheesh. 

he then goes on to say that he cant believe hes leaving, he doesnt think he wants to leave them, but he thinks its whats best for them.

he talks about how they do all of these bullshit things before helping you and i know its in reference to london but for the sake of my sanity its about the presidency role and how it will fuck you up before bothering to help you not want to kill yourself.  

should i do a separate post about how i visualized it/about how i thought about the song in paragraph form like a lowkey explanation? idk how to explain it but in this one i wanted to just cover some of the lyrics of the songs and my thoughts on them. i think c!wilbur wrote these in the limbo after he died. i know this is also shit and Not Good, but i really just needed to get my thoughts out before it killed me. i also didnt reread this. its probably repetitive and shit yk. i do Not Care. id also love to hear thoughts on this if yall want to. if you made it this far i love you please hydrate and eat today and youre so sexy ahaha 

“and even though im finished / im not quite done with it” even though hes finishing his symphony by blowing it up, hes now realizing he wished he hadnt blown it up and that he hadnt killed himself. man. 

-

[gertstarlight]

a kiss out of envy or jealousy 😳😳

i’ve gotten too many requests asking for a jealousy kiss so i stayed up til 4:30am to write this!! pls forgive the spelling/grammar cuz i am literally sleeping rn

send me more prompts!!

Loud bustling sound of classical music flowed through the tannenbaum wedding. The warm haze of the sunlight escaped behind the buildings in Blue Valley as the small string lights made their presence known. Sweet smell of foreign roses and tiny cakes breezed past Beth as she stood near the alter. She had always wanted the classic wedding but the heroism put a dent in those plans. The flowers patterned her flowy blue dress as she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Elizabeth Chapel, haven’t seen you in a couple years!”

Beth turns to see who it belongs to and immediately recognizes her childhood friend, Dean Harrison.

“Well yeah cuz you moved away to Germany after fifth grade,” her voice bold as ever, “how have you been, Dean?”

“Good actually yanno I’ve had time to adjust after what like 5 years but enough about me, are u doing good in Blue Valley and all?” He had the same chipper mannerism as her.

“Of course!! Blue Valley isn’t the same without you but the town has adapted to the absence of your beaming smile,” Beth held her wide smile and started catching up with her old friend.

Quiet footsteps reach where Beth stood and stopped behind her, giving her a soft nudge. She turned mid conversation to see Rick holding the drink she was waiting for. He put them down on the tall ledge beside the altar they were standing beside.

The tall blonde haired stranger spoke to Beth in a suspiciously friendly way. Well, everyone spoke to Beth in the kindest tone but this guy was ticking all the boxes on Rick’s Red Flag Checklist. He said sweet words to her and made her smile, maybe that’s why Rick disliked him.

The stranger responded to Beth’s optimistic remarks, “wow big words coming from the Blue Valley’s brightest smile champion.” Rick watched the two sync up in their amusement.

“There was a competition for the best smile?” Rick let his tone gain some edge as he questioned the other boy.

“Well yeah it was an inside joke Beth and I had when we were practically babies,” Dean said still laughing along with Beth.

That stupid laugh checked another one of Rick’s boxes and he felt the annoyance take over.

Regaining herself from the laughter, she spoke for the first time since Rick showed up, “ we were seven, Dean and it wasn’t even a real competition!”

“Ouch,” Dean says as he fake stabs his fist into his heart, “that really hurts, how could you hurt me like that?” Goddamn his laugh was starting to bug Rick.

“Woooow you were always the dramatic one,” said Beth as she joked around with the foreign friend she once knew.

“Yes that’s because you were always so realistic and needed some fun sarcasm,” he laughed and put a hand on Beth’s shoulder to balance the two of them as they continued to laugh.

Rick felt the heat burning up in his chest, just watching some other guy hold on to Beth the way he always wanted to. When she asked him to come to her aunt’s wedding, he let himself believe it would be the moment they fall for each other. Beth’s platonic wording didn’t stop him from deluding himself. He would go anywhere with Beth as long as he was with Beth.

The slow anger fizzled around in Rick’s mind as he sighed along to the stranger’s colourful words. Rick clearly did not come here for the food or the beautiful ceremony so when the one reason he was here for was flirting with some dude, he was sure as hell upset. Knowing Beth, this was just a casual conversation to her but to that nameless guy, she was probably the sweetest person to exist. Wasn’t she just the sweetest to everyone though?

She snapped him out of his lovelorn looks with a quick introduction. Although, Rick just wanted to act polite and hold a solid conversation, his rage got the best of him. He let a few sarcastic comments slip into the conversation and not-so-patiently waited for this Dan dude to walk away. Realizing how weirdly protective he got over his best friend, he calmed himself by taking a few sips from his drink.

Just couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances and wanting to speak in sweet melodies to the wonderful human sunshine. The love struck emotion is the least familiar to Rick Tyler but the sound of Beth’s voice made him want nothing more than to dance away the night. He shivered at simple thought of her ever returning those feelings that drive him wild. All he wants is to just steal her away from the lights of this romantic lighting and pull her into the steamiest kiss.

“Hey Rick, you ready to go?” Beth’s delicate voice makes him realize he zoned out again.

“Uh yeah sure, let’s get you home,” he muttered, letting his hand slip around her shoulders.

•~•

Needless to say, they do not end up home. They left the dancing strangers and fairy lights of the wedding behind. They walk lazily on to the Blue Valley bridge as Beth tells some silly anecdote with Rick’s suit hugging her shoulders. His hand still lay around her as they both stumble around the little sidewalk on the bridge overlooking the suburbs.

Beth switches the conversation to small talk, “the wedding was actually really sweet and the little flower centrepieces were matching the bride’s dress and it was all so detailed.”

“Uh yeah weddings are great,” Rick’s less than enthusiastic tone threw her off.

“Rick is something bothering you?”

“No I’m just tired from all that dancing.”

She throws him a classic pleading look, which is all it really takes for him to confess his inner monologue.

“Actuality Beth, I have to tell you something,“ he starts, hesitantly.

“You’re not the biggest fan of Dean, I get it he can be quite the optimist”

“Um no that’s not my problem with him”

“Then what it is ?”

Rick struggles to tell her the real reason he wants to practically never see Dean ever again. He settles for a generic answer to stop Beth from questioning him further.

“Forget it Beth, doesn’t matter anyways”

She takes stops walking and let’s him face her. The curiosity was gonna bug her until he was honest with her.

“Wait i don’t wanna forget it if it’s clearly bothering you,” her voice was serious and a little nervous.

“Just drop it Beth,” his voice was just serious.

“Yanno passive aggressiveness can’t be your solution to not talking about your feelings,” she said as she stood on the bridge facing the man she thought would be honest with her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rick said dismissively.

“Rick, I don’t want you to have to keep ur feelings hidden deep inside. At least not around me,” Beth’s kind voice was the only sound he ever wanted to hear.

Rick just looks at her w lovelorn eyes but his lips slip out a different tone, “can we not talk about this anymore I’m sick of telling you how I feel all the time.” The harshness in his words never reflected how he felt about her. He never wanted to taint her perfect brightness with his dark inner horrors.

Eyes twitching and lips pursing, she said, “you know what Rick, I am SICK OF YOU SCREAMING ALL THE TIME!” Beth clearly got the memo and let her anger come out.

“WELL IM SICK OF U THINKING U CAN JUST GET IN MY WAY AND CALM ME DOWN,” Rick’s volume matched hers as he took a step forward.

“WELL IM SICK OF U GETTING SO CLOSE ONLY TO PUSH ME AWAY!” Another step closer than they had been before.

“YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IM SICK OF BETH?” his voice tunes down, mirroring the beat of his heart, “the way you don’t feel the same about me.”

That was it. Every single emotion Rick had ever felt about Beth was just out there, lingering in the air and hanging over his head.

She takes a minute to process the words he just breathed so close to her lips. Cursing their subconscious mirroring of small steps that brought them so close together, Beth looked at him. She couldn’t take the heat of the moment anymore. She needed to release the tension and his angry lips were just so close to hers.

Beth collides their lips together and feels the rage in his words slip away. All the feigned anger led up to what was the most comforting yet frenzied moment. Slowly tracing her hands along the back of his neck, she feels his hands find her hips.

She knew those heated exchange of words didn’t come from a place of anger. Beth just couldn’t sense where they were coming from but did that really matter when her lips left his just so they can both catch up with their heart. She let his forehead gently fall on to hers.

“Rick I didn’t...” slowly murmuring as she trails off with her forehead still on his.

“I hate the way Dave was looking at you and the way you laughed along to his dumb jokes,” he blurts out realizing it was his only chance to let her know.

Beth’s mind was just racing at the same pace as her heart, knowing only his lips could make her feel that way.

“And I know I have no right to tell you who to talk to cuz that’s a dick move,” he just continues to speak as he holds onto her waistline.

Beth sorta just chuckles to herself and moves her head away from his to look at him for the first time since their kiss. The confusion took over his face as she began to explain.

“I’m not laughing at you,” she composes herself and continues, “well maybe i am but more so at the fact that you’re jealous!”

Rick’s eyes bring out that signature saddening anger when he hears her voice speak the words he couldn’t. Reluctantly, he pulls away from her hold on his neck and tries to find the words to explain.

“I just don’t like Dan,” he stutters out an answer.

“I don’t care abt him, also his name his Dean,” she places her hands on his jawline with a reassuring touch.

“I kissed you, Rick,” she lets her eyes emphasize the statement and her head nods slightly as she spoke to let him know she really meant it.

The fall air breezes past them as Rick contemplates her words, he bites the edge of his lips and does what he knew should’ve done a while ago.

Rick closed the space between their lips but a lot more delicately than she had. His hands had already memorized the exact place on her hips she liked them to be after the first kiss.

The way Beth felt their bodies fall into the same rhythm amused her. Letting her hands find their way into his dark wavy hair, she’s make those small twist to keep her balance.

It didn’t take long for them to understand the wild bursts of energy they spewed at each other was just from holding in all the unrequited feelings. If it hadn’t been for her unlikely bravery, he would still be getting lost in her words instead of the sweetness of her lips. So maybe Rick is glad he agreed to Beth’s proposition to go to some cliche storybook wedding as friends. And so it goes, those two are no longer friends.

[fanficaficionado]

this post was not one that was very premeditated. when i made this blog i had no intentions on criticizing any specific writers on their styles outside of individual works. however, one writer has a specific writing style that prevents me from finishing any of their stories more than once. so, i decided to tackle it all in one go instead of trying to trudge through three whole multi-chapter fanworks, one of which is honest to god over a million words. i had a word-for-word plan for what i was going to say in this post at one point, however due to the fact that i am the only one i've ever met with impeccable timing i got a call from my girlfriend right as i was gearing up to sit down and write this post and forgot every fucking thing i was going to say, and then when i finally wrote it i proceeded to procrastinate on editing it for half a year, so this post is literally so unplanned that any plan that might have existed has been consumed by the void. but!! i'm doing it anyway, and not even i can stop me!!

This is the thing about Unda

featuring M.C. Escher that's my favorite MC, Dayhve's Broken Diamond Club, and Alternate Universe by Unda

((spoilers, obviously))

The thing that all these stories have in common, besides being written by the same person of course, is that at some point while reading i got sick and fucking tired of them and couldn't push myself to keep going. For mc escher, it was during my reread when new characters with new relationship dramas were presented right at what i thought would be the climax, causing the story to drag on for longer after i thought that the story would be wrapping up. For DBDC, it was when sollux made a stupid decision during a confrontation with the FUCKING condesce, which i knew was going to delay the ending of the story for even longer, because he was obviously going to get captured, which would probably lead to a decent amount of the rest of them getting captured and then whoo dee fucking doo time for jailbreaks/rescue attempts. I then attempted to reread it, only to stop right when dayhve finds out about the mutant chucklevoodoos because this story is genuinely so long that prolonged amounts of time reading it has effects on my mental health ((i honestly will not blame unda for this one, it's just proof that they're good at writing emotional turmoil and mental health struggles)). For AU it was fairly fucking early, when the dramatic scenes with satan himself popping out of the actual fucking moon and then karkat confronting aradia who is literally the embodiment of death about getting sollux back all lead to a goddamn roadtrip at the end of the world. This was where i drew the line because i could just fucking tell that it was going to drag on into infinity.

These stories are fucking LONG, okay?? They are incredibly, beautifully, wretchedly long. When i first read DBDC i had a game going with my parents where we'd guess what chapter we thought i was on and compare it to where i actually was, and every time it was under ten despite the amount of words i just read leading my tiny little brain to believe otherwise.

In my personal opinion?? These stories cannot and should not go on for longer than what one would think to be the final climax, for the sake of their own lifespan. Because at some point one of these false climaxes are going to make people really fucking overwhelmed, really fucking tired of your shit, and/or really fucking pissed. These stories are primed and ready to collapse under their own weight and it is a sad fucking sight, like that video of the morbidly obese chiweenie i saw. They drag on for so long that at some point you stop forgiving the characters' idiotic decisions and just want things to get to the fucking point.

Now i didnt come here just to rag on unda's writing, believe it or not despite their overwhelming nature i genuinely really like these stories. They just drag on and on and on, and get more convoluted and confusing the longer they go.

But doesn't that sound familiar?? Haven't you read a story in the past, written by someone else, that did the exact same thing??

That's right baby, we are getting meta up in this bitch. I didnt come here just to talk about unda, no, i came here to use unda as an example. We're talking about fanfiction as a whole and the problem with a whole lot of fics. Namely that they just do not know where to stop. These crazy trains have no fucking breaks and everyone is scrambling trying to build some. Then they get half welded on before the conducter says "oh no, that's not right." So they just keep welding on more and more parts and sometimes it works, but at other times it completely breaks under itself, and at other other times it becomes a whole entire goddamn computer inhabited by a fully sentient ai before anyone can figure out how to stop the fucking train.

A lot of stories are like this, in that they drag on and waffle about. This is often caused by people taking a writing formula that works better for slice of life, where things just happen and the characters are just along for the ride, and applying it to big overarching stories. They try to make the plot with a big bad and extremely high stakes fit into this type of pacing, and it starts feeling like each arc is incredibly disconnected. You aren't done with your characters, and you have more ideas for conflicts, so to keep things going you have to keep cranking the stakes higher and higher. Then your reader starts wondering how we went from supernatural college au to Let's Go Kill The Devil, and why the fuck we're spending extra time and attention on a roadtrip when the literal devil just showed up and committed at least three separate war crimes. It's a constant rising and falling of the momentum, big crazy climactic things happen and then suddenly we're slowing down again to build up the next Big Thing.

The problem with this is that eventually you get to a point where no ending you come up with will feel very satisfying, because your reader has been strung along for such a long time that they'll probably feel more like they just ran a marathon trying to get away from a hoard of angry snakes than like they read a story. Unda is a more extreme example, because their standard chapter length and the sheer amount of chapters poured into each story makes a task that is normally kinda frustrating feel like pushing a boulder up a mountain for eternity. These sorts of stories are hard to keep up with when they're delivered in fairly bite sized chunks, but when you deliver your story in four course gourmet meals it just gets actively draining watching a character make another decision that leads to more plot and more relationship drama and more development and always fucking more. There's no ceiling on creativity but this stuff makes me wish there was sometimes, because then maybe these stories would get to a point where they didn't have anywhere else to go and so they'd end sooner on a more satisfying conclusion.

I think the solution to these sorts of conundrums would be splitting these stories over multiple works. Conclude one plot, finish the story, move on to the next using the same characters and premise from where the first work left off and keep going. It might lead to some cliffhangers every now and again but cliffhangers arent so bad when you know there's more to come, and it'd help people not get completely fucking lost.

I know it sounds like im getting on unda's case with all the vitriol of the literature version of Ego from ratatouille, and i know that some people write for fun and others write for practice. I don't know which category unda falls in, but either way when you post something on the internet it's gonna be perceived. I treat both types of writing the exact same way because examining a for fun story with the same analytical eye as i would use for a story that was written with the intent of receiving constructive criticism leads me to find examples of things that work and things that don't, which i can then dissect and share on the internet for people who want to improve to learn from. Experimentation is the root of progress after all, and stories written for fun tend to be full of that sort of stuff, so taking a closer look helps progress storytelling as a whole!! It's a learning experience. Above all, it's fun to tear stories apart, and fanfiction is especially fun because you don't have to spend the emotion to get invested and judge new characters that you've never seen before. I am in no way saying unda should upheave their entire style of writing, or that their stories are shitty. I am actually a pretty big fan of unda's work!! I hope to see more writing from them, in whatever form it takes, and i will gleefully dissect it all the same.

[seratlantisite]

Hmm so we have four-episodes-slash-two-arcs of season three left... sounds like plenty of time for an attempt at the Big Final Heist they’ve been working towards, with room for everything to go wrong but then they rally and are successful, end of story!

but...oh right they are being hunted by dark matters. pretty relentlessly, huh. and oh well there’s that little matter of peter’s debts... that we were pretty solidly reminded of out of nowhere at the end...

oh.

one of these plot lines isn’t getting resolved this season, is it?

and I kind of think it’ll be the curemother heist.

(its long under the cut im so sorry fjdasl)

Dark Matters and Peter’s Debts are so excruciatingly at the forefront that the Big Heist - thats the reason they’ve banded together in the first place - has basically become the damn framing device for the other two,

Tools of Rust was During the heist and Jet happened to be in the right place at the right time, but it was about Jet confronting his past and his approach to healing oh and they ran headfirst into dark matters

Shadows on the Ship happened the night AFTER the heist and was about a) distrust of peter (smartly disguised as vespa reconciling her rampant paranoia with living a dangerous life where she also needs to be paranoid) and b) DARK MATTERS AGAIN

just based on how kevin and sophie pace the plots, how chock-full and focused each ep is, i think we’ll maybe have time for two plot threads if they tie together and one will be the hook for next season.

Peters Debts:

story tropes or something wise, i’d say the last two episodes would be crime family vs dark matters, racing for the cure mother. (or more likely DM waits for the family to get it and then gets THEM bc rita. told them. the entire plan) and then in the last minutes we’d get a mirror of final resting place with peter taking the four targets and running out.

but ‘show constantly throws obstacles for why couple can’t get together yet’ is really tired trope and i kinda don’t feel like kabert would just pull it. plus it would completely reset all juno and peter’s progress bc juno’s had. shit relationships. and this show is all about love doesn’t conquer all you gotta work for the ones you love but that’d be quite the thing to recover from AND they’d need a really strong reason to run after peter, because juno’s been hurt a bunch already and i doubt jet would care and b+v are about to retire so “because i LOVE him!!” doesn’t seem like enough.

maybe if like,,, peter left a “be back soon” note and junos like “daww” but then it cuts to peter being dragged off in chains by Mr. X so season 3 they’re trying to find him again... idk

Dark Matters:

it can’t be the dark matters plot that gets pushed into next season because they are chomping so hard at the carte blanche’s heels that it’s like trying to outrun a freight train. i doubt they’ll solve all of dark matters, but the confrontation is Immanent.

Curemother:

for the Curemother plot to be pushed into next season, we’d need some kind of big complication that will justify another round of story around it. and also sOME KIND OF CLUE AS TO WHO TF MR X IS because kevin gives us clues. we can technically figure every part 2 out ourselves bc the pieces we need are always there! AND THERE’S NO ONE IT COULD BE unless its goddamn mag again but “he secretly survived” would be less of a solve and more of a coin-flip, “do you believe kevin or not for no real reason“,

for this route to be the one they take we need a Lot of elements to be established in buddy’s episode. a lot of name drops of other bad guys who could have been hounding peter for 20 to 8 years. something that tells them they wont be able to get the curemother within the year, so peter panics. or maybe his creditors decide they’re sick of waiting and come collecting.

ive had this personal theory since man in glass, that they’d come collecting in the way of either kidnapping juno or rita to leverage peter and the other would absolutely flip out on him. it’d be good shit, but maybe its why i am biased to this thread getting resolved this season.

but they introduced it in the first episode!! and they slapped us in the face with it in ultra bots!

sigh

another reason i don’t think the curemother will be solved this season is just how unlikely it seems they’ll just find this magic alien panacea, but we’ve been so focused on other aspects of the story that we haven’t had time for the wrench in that plan to appear, beyond m’tendere flat out saying they had no idea what was in their safe that cannot be opened and accessed.

so maybe it won’t be in next season, but i doubt it’ll be “solved” properly. gosh this was long. if you got to this part ily

edit: i forgot that buddy and vespa want to retire after the curemother heist. but i dont think it’ll work out. but vespa absolutely cannot keep doing this. so maybe they’ll retire anyway and pass on the torch and it’ll be sweet bc buddy is choosing her wife over crime

[naptoons]

Story Of Us-Joel Pimentel

Warnings: sexual content, alcohol reference, mild language.

Theme: Smut

A/N: this was requested by @cncogirl18 , I hope this is good enough for you and I hope it isn’t cringe asf cause I’m lowkey bad at writing imagines. And it’s first pov, just for you bby. And also google translated Spanish, it ain’t my first language but I’m learning slowly. I didn’t proofread either I kinda just typed it all in one go so I apologize for any errors🥺

20 years old I’ve turned. The age requirement that considers you an adult, and also the requirement that calls for experiences, drunken memories and maybe a little bit of hazy truth. And I just knew it was going to be crazy tonight. Cnco just finished their tour, Richard’s daughter was with her mom. I just knew that whatever happened tonight. I’m going to love it but hate it. Laying in your bed I waited for Chris to text me about the plan. I’m always close to Chris rather than all of the other members too the point that they thought we were dating.

Everytime the topic came up, the both of us just squelch in disgust,ultimately feeling so sick to my stomach that they could even think that. He was more like a brother to me, all of them were. Except Joel. Joel was more than a brother in my eyes. Yes very cliché but I couldn’t defeat silence as my heart beats whenever he was around. I couldn’t help but feel the butterflies build in my stomach. It’s been like that for a while, but the courage could never spill out, liquid courage is something different. I almost did once, if it wasn’t for Chris i could’ve ruined everything.

My phone buzzed interrupting my thoughts, it was Chris, sliding to answer I put the phone in speaker. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY PUTA!!!” He yells, just as i expected that’s why i put it speaker.

“Thank you puto, so what’s the plan?” I ask

“Duh, we’re getting you hammered for the first time, and not wine this time” Chris Jones

“Ha ha, that was one time” i roll your eyes, getting off the bed I walk towards the closet deciding on what outfit I’ll be wearing “so we’re going to a lounge or something?”

“I’m not telling you shit, sólo espera y mira” Chris laughs, knowing i won’t get anywhere with him I just nod my head and reply with an okay. “Coming to pick you up in thirty”

“bueno” I reply, then hanging up the phone, I m see a leather skirt and a red graphic crop top you bought two weeks ago. Smiling i grabbed it from your closet, laying it on the bed, sitting down on the floor i dictate which shows you want. Looking at my strappy black heels,I smile throwing them at the foot of my bed.

After my shower, I get dressed looking in the mirror at yourself I decided to change to something comfortable, so i switched your heels for some black platform ankle boots. Spraying favorite perfume on my phone rings. Already knowing who it is i don’t answer i just grab it along with my wallet. Swinging the door open you see Chris’s car. Locking the door to my apartment you race over to the passenger side.

“Who you trying to look good for?” Chris comments, while I strap yourself in with the seatbelt

“Cállate” i reply, on the way to wherever you guys were going, i controlled the music and he no say in it.

Cause it was my birthday.

Arriving at the club, Chris looks for a parking space, seeing as Richard was already here with The rest of the boys. Parking right next to their car I can hear Richard calling my name. “Fucking psycho” i mumbled. Getting out the car Richard raises his arms up bringing me into a tight hug.

“Happy birthday mami!!” Richard kisses the top of my head, smiling I hug him back “thank you rich” I pull out of his chest greeting the rest of the guys. When it was my turn to greet Joel. It seemed as if my brain went into tv static. But you pushed through it.

“Hey” shakily i approach him, Joel smiles sheepishly pulling me into a hug “hey happy birthday princesa” his voice melts into my heart, those infamous goosebumps traveling up my arm.

“thank you” i awkwardly mumble in his shirt. His hand slowly leaving my waist “I hope you don’t mind I bought more of my friends and Emilia along”

Softly I bite my lower lip softly at the name, i couldn’t deny it they were really great together, they had great chemistry. It just made me a little bit bitter that I lost my chance. A chance at holding him in my arms.

“Oh no it’s okay, the more the merrier” i smile, maybe a forced one but Joel really doesn’t pay attention to me. So I thought.

“bueno, lets go” Joel smiles, I nod my head greeting the rest of Joel’s friends, walking in the club it was packed, out of all the days my birthday could fall on. It had to be a Saturday.

“I’m going to regret ever taking up your offer” you punch Chris, he throws his arms around my shoulder “don’t worry we’re going to have so much fun tonight” he winks at me, to which Joel caught and he didn’t appreciate much.

Everyone but y’all knew the feeling was mutual. But the boys decided they wouldn’t interfere with someone else’s love life, they just decided “let nature take its course” Joel rolled his eyes at Chris’s remark, grabbing Emilia by the waist and making his way to the bar. My eyes eases him up and down sighing heavily I decided to not let him bother me.

At least not in the moment.

Five shots in i were tipsy maybe a bit beyond tipsy, taking shots after shots, Chris wasn’t lying when he said y’all were getting hammered. “I wanna dance now” I yell.

“Dale niña!” Chris says drowning in his last shot with a squeeze of a lime, nodding my head I turn around quiet too fast for my body to comprehend, i almost stumble off the stool. Joel and I made eye contact and immediately he grabs Emilia’s chin pulling it towards him and making out with her. Quiet sloppy, rolling i eyes and grab the first member which happened to be Richard.

“Wanna dance?” I smirk appears, Richard doesn’t get a chance to think as I’m grabbing his hand pulling him in the dance floor. As the music blared in the background, I back it up on Richard rubbing my ass on him, one of Richards hands was on my waist while the other was holding his drink, as I rolled my hips against his,singing the lyrics to the song that was playing. I look at Joel whose face is almost flushed with pink shades, i wink at him biting down on my lower lip trying not to smile.

Two can play your games Joel.

Richard throws his arm around my shoulder as my fingers hook onto his forearm. Richard presses me against him harder as his fingers imprint into my hips. After the song ended Richard and I made our way to the bar again grabbing another drink.

“How’s your birthday so far mami?” He asks

“Great! I swear I’ve never had this much fun in my life” i smile, sipping on my drink, i turn around and see Zabdiel dancing with a girl, smiling at my group of friends.

Excuse me for being a sappy drunk, but I’m so grateful for them, I never took them for granted. Richard flicks my forehead, flinching I hit him on his arms “What was that for?!” I scream

“You were being sappy drunk, we don’t need that here” Richard says downing another shot glass.

“Shut the fuck up” i drink the colorless liquid, turning back around I see Joel and Emilia grinding against each other, basically doing what Richard and I was doing.

“Trying to make Joel jealous?” Richard asks

“What?!” I asked startled just by my response he already knew my answer “I can help with that” Richard winks

“Really?” I ask, Richard doesn’t answer me but walks a over to Zabdiel putting me in between them, now this time i were grinding on Zabdiel fusing our bodies together sticking to each other like sap off a tree. Joel was fuming with anger and jealousy. He just couldn’t hold back his emotions tonight. But neither could I .

The tension was rising between the both of us. Would the flames swallow us up and disappear into pieces? Or would it ignite a new flame?

After that song I wanted to sit down, moving over to the couch, Joel tried to get away from Emilia to reach you but she sits on his lips wrapping her arms around his neck, stretching her legs out so their isn’t anymore room. Rolling my eyes I place my cross my arms across my chest.

“Can you please move your legs, I want to sit down” I ask politely when i should’ve said “fucking move your feet cunt”

“Why? So you can try to steal his attention?, don’t you have a man? Isn’t your man Chris? Stop playing these dudes hearts” she smiles sheepishly, every fiber in me holds back the urge to punch her in lip.

“One that isn’t none of your business and two I asked you politely to move your legs, im fucking tired, Joel make your girl move please” I ask as calmly as I can.

“Joel, you agree, she needs to learn to be loyal. She’s just fucking all your members, they’re all being played, that’s what you told me” Emilia smiles cradling his head in her hands, your eyes come into a sudden shock seeing as Joel has been talking shit about you to her. In such a negative way.

“Oh really?” I ask calmly

“So move along, you’re not his type” she says, your eyes dart at Joel whose been silent for a while, Joel’s eyes tries to meet yours darker than the nightsky. “Okay bet” I walk up to Emilia punching her in the lip feeling a pair of arms pick me up by the waist averting me away from the situation.

“Don’t you ever disrespect me goddamn it I should’ve gotten your fucking nose!!” I yell potentially busting a vein, Joel gets up finally looking down at emilia’s busted lip. His eyes now angry at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Joel yells

“Me?! Bitch you’ve been talking shit about me like I ain’t nothing goddamn!!!” I yell feeling my feet on the ground, but arms still holding my waist. “You fucking piece of shit you thought I was fucking your members?! That’s what you really think of me?! I fucking love you!! You!!”

“Only you dumbass!!” I start crying through my yells, the lump in my throat closing my air way

“So what the fuck is with you and Chris?!” Joel finally speaks

“Hes my fucking cousin!! Why would I date my cousin?!” The grip on your waist falls flat

“Your cousin?” Zabdiel questions. In fury you walk away from the heated situation and into the bathroom slamming the door behind you, the mascara I once knew of was dripping down your face. Grabbing a paper towel I wet it then wipe it off. the more I wiped the more the tears flowed.

I just knew it would slip. But no this way. I didn’t know it would come out in the heat of an argument. It’s not like you were hiding that Chris and I were related I just thought it didn’t have to be stated. The door jiggles open not even looking to see who it was I just keep cleaning my makeup off.

“Brenda, let’s talk about this” his voice sending those chills throughout my spine.

“One don’t call me that and What is there to talk about? I’m just a fucking whore in your eyes” you sting him

“I’m sorry bre,Never for a second did I ever say or thought that” Joel replies in sincerity

“So what did you really think Joel?” I ask turning around towards him, his hands cupping my face with one hand and cleaning my makeup with the other.

“I think you’re a rainbow in the middle of a hurricane,the moon before it kisses the ocean, the sunflower in the middle of roses, you’re different bebesita, just the woman I fell in love with” Joel mummers

“You don’t mean that you’re fucking drunk” I slur

“Not drunk enough to wear my heart on my sleeves for you, ask me this tomorrow and I can tell you word for word what I said” Joel looks into my eyes intensely, he tilts my chin up to his lips as out fuse together, tasting the strawberry liquor he drank, his hands on top of my ass picking me up and putting me on the sink. His lips now on the my tepid neck, my fingers combing their way through his hair. Joel pulls out of my neck his eyes easing me up and down trying to level with mine.

“Bre, I love you okay? No one else” Joel speaks softly

“So you and Emilia?” I ask curiously

Joel’s smile increases “we were never a thing, I want us to be a thing, trust me I won’t break your heart, the last thing I want to do is see you cry again because of me” Joel’s smile disappears, I touch his jawline caressing them with my fingernails.

“Me too” I mumble

“So will you go out with me bre?” Joel speaks above my lips, nodding my head he leans in smiling as our flavors interlock with each other. Joel helps me jump down from the counter and onto the floor. “Let’s go home?” He ask more or less as a question

“Yeah”

Erick ended up driving the both of us home, cause we were way past drunk to even think about getting on the road. Kicking off my shoes at the front door I meet Joel in the room, seeing him already half undressed, my face begins to change in temperature, my knees begin to buckle and become jello. Ignoring the pool in between my thighs I jump on the bed sitting on the edge of the bed. Joel turns around smiling at me which just brings back those butterflies. Now that he is actually mine I don’t think those will ever go away.

Joel towers over me pressing his lips upon mine moving in sync with each other, slowly I lean onto the sheets of his bed caressing his biceps with my nails. Joel lets out a soft groan in my mouth his hand gripping onto my thigh raising it up to his waist as his body dips into me. Rubbing his hard member against my wet core. Both of letting out a desperate pleasure, Joel pulls away his eyes painting onto mine.

“Wanna continue this?” Joel questions

“With you? Yeah I do” i smile, Joel’s smile slowly starts to creep upon his face, my hands find themselves under his shirt feeling his abs clenching on and off to my touch. “You got me, so now what?” I smile

“Eres muy hermosa” Joel mumbles, his plump lips leaving tiny trails of kisses on my neck up to my jawline as I gasp in comfort, his hands sliding under the fabric of my clothes touching my burning flesh. His hands cups one of my breasts as his lips makes their way down to my neck. Pulling away he tugs on the hem of my shirt and lifting it over my head. Before I could process anything his lips attack my swollen nipples licking and tugging at the seams as his fingers firmly unclampes my bra from the back, my back slowly rising off the bed sensitive to the way his tonuge explores my body.

Backing away from my body Joel pulls my bra down from my body as I look at him in lovestruck, Joel smiles at my sudden subspace, lifting his shirt over his head my eyes can’t help but to wonder every detail and curve to his body.

And I can’t believe tonight I’m going to be under it. Joel pulls down the zipper of my skirt, I lift my hips up to him slightly as his fingertips hook on my fabric pulling down both pieces of clothing down throwing it on the floor for decor. Slowly Joel opens my legs wide his fingertips digging into my waist he pulls me closer to him. Joel’s lips begin kissing the inside of thighs softly as my body aches for his touch, his breath hovering over my swollen clot awaiting for his tongue to be buried inside of my slit. Joel makes eye contact with my forming that smirk he’s been giving my all night. With one finger he slides up and down my slit coating it in my colorless essences.

His soft but simple touch feels like ecstasy to me, popping his finger into his mouth tasting me he presses down on my clit making me squeeze the covers in my hands. “Joel...” I plead. “What is it you want baby?”

“You” I let out desperately, Joel wastes no time after my answer as his tongue slowly laps up my slit dripping in sticky liquid just pouring out by every touch he makes. Joel’s eyes meet up with mine, feeling his tongue creating circles around my swollen clit with a tight tug of his lips sucking. My head sinks into the pillow letting myself fall into euphoria. Joel savoring me like his last meal, groaning into me as my moans fill the air along with the beads of sweat trickling down my body. My eyes rolling back at the his tongue flicks my sensitive bud. A knit begins to form in my stomach as my moans start to become more and more silent.

“I’m gonna come..” was the only sentence I could achieve, Joel hovers over me his two fingers pressed against my pearl shifting them from side to side filling the air with my juices and sparse broken moans. Joel wraps his hand around my throat softly but still be mindful not to choke me. “Come baby, mira pa’ acá princesa” his voice reverbs off the walls, opening my eyes you look into his. “You’re going to come for me babygirl?” Nodding my head as the whimpers begin to spilling out of me, my legs begin to tremble eyes rolling back as silence fills the room. My legs begin to close but Joel holds them open using his middle finger only to slide up and down my slit sending me into another phase of euphoria.

“I can’t Joel..” I whimper holding his wrist with one hand, but Joel ignores my cries, applying pressure back to my bud, rubbing in a circular motion his fingers engulfed in a creamy substance, this time his pace stable. Bitting down on my lower lip my whole body begins to shake reaching a another climax, “you’re so beautiful baby when you come” my hand digging into his forearm as I cum all over his fingers. His tongue cleaning me up I spasm every time it comes into contact with my bud. He unbuckles his belt dropping his pants and boxers to the floor. Reaching over the his bedside table he pulls out a gold wrapper. My body still trying to come down from the high as my chest rises up and down slowly.

“Ready for this?” Joel reassures “is this something you really want?”

“Wouldn’t want to have anyone else as my first” I smile caressing his jawline

“Me too” Joel slowly dips into me sliding ever so slowly as my face screws up in agony “am I hurting you? Do you wanna stop?” Joel ponders, opening your eyes you meet those soft butter pecan eyes. “No, keep going” I whisper. Joel intertwines his hands with mine, as my walls engulf him deeper and deep, the pain slowly started to subdue and pleasure came to replace it.

“Better?” Joel’s soft voice rings

“So much better” I moan, feeling him slide in and out of me, his manhood stretching me out with every slow thrust, almost sensing that I want more Joel sinks deeper into me planting his kisses on my neck, my fingertips scratching his back making sketches upon his skin my soft moans echoing his ears felt like he was in the studio recording a song. With every stroke I lose my breath, our hips clashing together as the beads of sweat drip upon us both. His grinds increased as the headboard constantly thumped against the wall.

The familiar knot builds in my stomach as Joel’s strokes become sloppier but never stopping to hit my sweet spot. We were both close to falling over the edge. “Come for me” He whispered as I fell over the edge into a waterfall of pleasure, grabbing purchase of his hair My eyes rolled back as I screamed his name, as he came along with me. My eyes slowly open feeling my walls unclench from him, rolling the condom off he threw it in the trash coming back with a warm wash cloth, to clean ne up.

“Do I taste bad?” I joke Joel’s eyes dart at me in concern “it’s a joke baby, cause you the cloth you’re too sweet”

“I mean I can use my tongue to clean you, but I may not know when to stop” Joel answers me cleaning my cum up I squirm a little making Joel chuckle. “I love that, me necesita” Joel raspy voice creates a heated pool in between my thighs. Getting back in the bed Joel wraps his arms around my waist sticking my back to his chest, while his chin sinks into the dip of my shoulder.

“I love you Joel”

“I love you more baby” Joel replies through the heavy clouds of sleep.

Waking up the next morning Joel left me a note saying he went to practice for their performance here in my hometown , breakfast is on the counter. Smiling I grab my phone heading straight for Instagram I see a picture of Joel.

358,662 likes

joelpimentel

🛏 day.

@/Bree__

All mine right?🤤

joelpimentel

@/bree__ all yours mami😘

Smiling I set my phone down heading to the kitchen not until I hear keys jangling in the lock. Joel’s head pops into his house closing the door behind him locking it with one hand. “So were??”

“Oh shush” Joel shuts me up by cupping my jawline in his hand planting his lips on top of mine, his lips tasted of raspberry, pulling away he kisses all over my face as I let out a series of giggles. “Yeah we’re official I don’t know who asked who, but you’re mine I don’t like sharing”

“Me either” grabbing a French fry you smile. Joel being my boyfriend was something I thought to be impossible but here I am I’m his kitchen wearing his hoodie. Couldn’t be any better.

[neonstahli]

I honestly, don't know if I'm going to get out of this rut the way things keep going, even with me trying to make it right. It's one thing after another, and I'm tired. I'm fed up. I've been contemplating going back to CT for days now. As a serious thought, not just me saying it. I have really no purpose out here anymore besides for the kids, but eventually they want to do their own thing and frankly, I'm fine with it.

So I dont know. Maybe I'll end up moving somewhere else entirely and no one will know. Not to be ominous. I'm just fed up with my life as it's going. It's a soap Opera so overplayed the mere thought of its theme song makes you sick. Literally I read my posts and go "this is just fucking sad" because it really is, in multiple ways.

But, I lost shit this year. Friends, grips of sanity, trust in most people, one of our dogs died (I'm still thankful to those who tried to help him during that vet time. You really did give us a few more days with him and I wouldn't want anything more but to have more time with that boy. Thank you.) and the car as well like, a lot of shit has gone down. I am being pursued for debt for some fucking reason, even though any other time it was okay. Apparently this year they want to go sue-crazy. So I have two cases of those I have to fix and pay by myself. No one elses help. Not even the ones involved. Well, one. And it's fine. It's really not, nothing is, thus why I say fucking fuck everything I'm running, but that's my go-to for everything.

But I'm seriously, seriously fed the fuck up. If things go on one more month like this...if 2021 is still this rut, I'm fucking gone. I'm going extreme. Like I cant fucking do this I want to rip my hair out and I've really contemplated seeing if it feels better than the goddamn pain I've been in over this stress

I don't enjoy, any of this. A pandoras box of literal hat-pulling of "what will go wrong this week? Or today?"

I find our things every day like I should expect to wake up to another episode of what went wrong this time? The car goes, I have to spend twice my check now to get there and back home, I find out because of this we are now almost SIX FUCKING HUNDRED DOLLARS BEHIND IN BILLS.

SO NOW IM HERE LIKE, DO I FUCKING POST? DO I TRY??? DO I EVEN BOTHER? DO I LET THE LIGHTS AND HEAT SHUT OFF TO PROVE THE FUCKING POINT????? Like I'm fucking tired. I am goddamn sick, and tired. The stress is killing me. I do not sleep more than 2 hours a night. I work 48 hours a week at a factory where I am always moving. I am the only one paying for things here.

And I am going to fucking snap. It is going to happen. And I am going to end up hurting someone or myself. Because I cannot deal with this shit anymore. I cannot fucking do it. I can't eat, I have tremors when I try. I wake myself up sobbing or trembling if I do happen to sleep longer than 2 hours. I have consistent headaches and vertigo. My arms are slowly LITERALLY GOING NUMB due to overwork and carpal tunnel syndrome + a pinched/torn ulnar nerve in my left arm. I've passed out at work twice in the bathroom without realizing it. I am killing myself trying to climb out of this rut. But I am trying. And I ask for help because I am killing myself trying.

So fuck you for thinking I'm just begging without any cause.

[syekick-powers]

rambling about emotions and self-control

i think one of the things that pisses me off the most when family members criticize me is when they say that i’m “bad at controlling my emotions”. first of all, I have ADHD and bipolar simultaneously, my emotions are a hundred times fucking stronger than yours. secondly, i am actually excellent at controlling my emotions. i am the kind of person where if i am having a panic attack, you might not have any fucking clue that i’m even having anxiety unless i state directly that im having a panic attack. ive had PAs so bad where i legit thought i was about to die and not a single shred of that world-ending panic touched my external affect for a second. part of my fucking trauma revolves around having to hide my distress to avoid freaking out other people, which means that i learned to develop a diamond fucking grip on my external signs of distress. it’s deeply maladaptive in some situations, but in other situations it’s equally as useful. and yet because i am very animated and exaggerated in my persona, people assume that i just let my emotions fountain everywhere uncontrollably and that i’m just a waterfall of feelings.

incorrect. every bit of exaggeration in my affect is deliberate. i am not acting like a clown because i can’t control myself, i am purposefully choosing to exaggerate to convey my feelings more effectively. if i don’t want you to know what i’m feeling, you will never ever ever find out. there are some people i interact with on a regular basis whomst i fucking loathe deeply, and yet any time i interact with them i am completely personable and friendly. when im streaming video games on a high difficulty and get frustrated from having to do the same part over and over and over again, i never get tilted on stream. i dont yell or rage, and in fact the more frustrated i become the more blank and expressionless my affect turns. when i was playing dead space 2 on zealot difficulty on stream recently, all of my viewers were complimenting the fact that i spent at least two collective hours on trying to beat the final boss and yet still did not get visibly upset or pissed off once.

yes, my emotions are strong. i have two separate disorders that both have “emotional dysregulation” as some of their biggest negative side effects. my bad moods feel like a fucking firestorm most of the time and strong emotions are very difficult to handle and control. sometimes, my emotions get the better of me and i snap or get irritable. but the only time i’m irritable is when i feel physically and emotionally like utter dogshit and the bad mood impacts my ability to hold back my emotions. the truth is that in my day to day life there are dozens of fucking things that irritate the living hell out of me and i choose to discard my frustration rather than stay mad about something trivial--either that, or i feel the frustration intensely, but bite it back and don’t say anything because i’m not in the mood to pick a fight. if i’m being pissy with you, it’s because i’m completely fuck-out of all mental and physical energy that i would otherwise use to hold back my irritation. there is nothing left to burn. there aren’t even fumes in the tank. this bitch empty, so prepare for the yeet.

the problem that i run into with my family members is that this internal struggle to contain my emotions is completely invisible to any external viewers. they’re not me, of course they can’t see what’s going on in my head. what makes that an issue is that they don’t see the twenty fucking times i got irritated and managed to control my temper through the frustration, they only see the five or so times i lose control. my efforts are invisible to everyone around me, so when i finally do get fed up and make a snippy comment or complain, it seems like i just let my emotions get the better of me all the time.

to be fuckening honest, if the people who criticized me lived one fucking day in my shoes, the extremity of my emotions would exhaust them within hours. the thing is, i’m 25 fucking years old, which means i’ve lived with this shit for over two fucking decades. i have learned to control myself to an extent, and, being honest with yall? it fucking exhausts the living shit out of me all the goddamn time. it’s like my brain expends all my mental fuel reserves on overclocking my emotions as hard as possible while leaving no fuel left over for activities in the day that i actually need to do. it’s part of the reason i’m so fuckdamn tired all the fuckdamn time. but i’m not bad at controlling my emotions when i actually have the energy to do so. in fact, i’m so good at suppressing them that half the time, people don’t know i’m upset at all. to a certain extent, i’ve gotten used to how extreme my emotions are, and have started learning to predict what sets me off so i can make an effort to avoid the negative stimulus and save myself the frustration. i’m just really fucking tired of people accusing me of not controlling my emotions well enough when god fucking damnit you have no idea how hard i’m actually fucking trying!!! it feels like i’ve gotten so good at hiding my distress in my day-to-day life that now people have no fucking idea how shitty i actually feel until they poke me one too many times and i fucking bite their finger off, and then assume that i just randomly blew up on them with no reason or justification. that i’m just behaving like this to spite them personally.

i promise you im not fucking behaving randomly. in fact, my frustration triggers are actually pretty fucking consistent. the same bullshit behaviors will always piss me off; what changes on a day-to-day basis is how well i control the extremity of my reaction. if i’m having a good day, i have enough fuel stores to go “meh, whatever” and brush it off without being too bothered for very long. if i feel like shit, my ability to control my response is hampered and it becomes much harder to bite back a snippy comment. i’m not lashing out to be malicious or spiteful. i’m lashing out because you’ve been doing this shit every day for the past two fucking weeks and today i’m just too tired to deal with this fucking bullshit anymore. my reaction is not a sudden unprovoked blowing up of a bomb. it’s “you poked the caged animal one too many times and now it’s going to fucking bite you to make you stop because it has no other way to express its frustration”.

i try to be clear and concise with my boundaries, and frankly i don’t think they’re all that unreasonable. i like to be able to decide when and how i do a task on my own time rather than being pushed and pulled and jabbed and pressured every step of the way. i like to be able to have my own space where people have to get my permission before entering suddenly so that i feel like i have a safe place to hide when i’m overstimulated. i like to decide when and where i want to engage in socialization, and for how long. i like being able to decide when i’m ready to do a task, rather than having a task suddenly shoved on me with no warning or being pressured to do it before i’m ready. i do not like being gifted objects i did not request (and often actively requested not to get) and then being expected to be grateful for something i didnt even want in the first place. i don’t like gifts coming with invisible price tags and obligations that can change whenever the gifter decides they want more out of me. and i absolutely cannot. fucking. stand. passive aggression. all of these things do not really seem all that unreasonable to me, yet time and time again people treat me like i’m just asking for so much more than they can possibly give. and you know what? 75% of the fucking time when someone crosses one of these boundaries all i do is Make A Note Of It and go along with the boundary violator’s wishes anyway, because i actively decided that making a big deal out of them crossing my boundaries is not worth the effort of asking them to change their behavior, because throughout my entire fucking life i’ve been constantly treated as the irrational, unrealistic, crazy bitch for trying to set those boundaries. i’ve been taught time and time and fucking time again that defining my boundaries is too much to fucking ask. so when someone does violate my boundaries, there’s a little “Sye will remember that“ popup and absolutely zero expression or reaction. which means that yes. when i finally get tired and can’t bite back my frustration any longer, it’s because you’ve done the exact same thing to me two hundred fucking times previous and i don’t have the fucking patience to suck it up and deal with it anymore. im done with your shit.

so yeah. i’m a little bit fucking sick of people telling me that i have poor self-control. the fact that you think i have no self-control is an indicator of how good it actually is, because i’m so fucking good at hiding my distress that you don’t even have any idea how absolutely like a fetid mound of horse shit i feel like until my fuse finally burns all the way up. i can contain a 10-out-of-10 ‘i’m imminently about to die’ panic attack so well that not a scrap of that panic shows up in my external affect for even a second. i can suppress my pain on stream when it’s at a 7 out of 10 intensity or higher and be fucking on stream playing video games and commentating and show almost no sign of discomfort except for an intense concentrating face. don’t you fucking ever tell me that i’m bad at controlling myself. i’m a goddamn adult. i’ve learned how to control 90% of my fucking emotions so well that i could be holding a conversation with you imagining myself breaking your fucking nose and show absolutely zero sign of external hostility. i am good at controlling my fucking emotions. the problem is that my emotions are so world-endingly, apocalyptically intense that sometimes i just get too fucking tired to hold back, and then that’s when i bite. i’ m not just lashing out randomly with no provocation. i’ve been tread on a million fucking times and took it with a smile and you had no fucking idea. just because i bit you doesn’t mean i did it because i have no self-control. self-control? self-control???? don’t you fucking talk to me about self-control you headass bitch. i have a fucking supernova coming out of my brain and you’re telling me im weak for not being able to bite it back when your emotions have about as much intensity as a bowl of lukewarm porridge. don’t ever fucking criticize me for not being able to control myself when you’re playing life on easy mode and i’ve been stuck on expert all my fucking life. self-control. don’t you fucking talk to me about self-control ever again. you have no idea what the fuck you’re even talking about. fuck off.