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kitsu-katsu · 5 years

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On kiribaku becoming canon and their evidence:

So I posted this on reddit earlier, but wanted to have it here where more KRBK shippers are, since I just ended up compiling a lot more than I thought I would.

Fair warning: A pretty big text with a compilation of kiribaku moments ahead.

We would all love kiribaku being canon, and I think it's not as much of a longshot as some may lead you to believe.

Honestly, if one of them was a girl, this would most certainly be canon, like, just in the anime we have:

Them becoming friends slowly in the background, leaving us with good development between them that is so seamless it can hit you hard once you notice how close they've become if you hadn't noticed before.

Them arriving and leaving the pool together while walking in the sunset.

They support and compliment each other (both on personality and quirks, like come on).

Kirishima can just lean on Bakugou or side hug him all the time and Bakugou lets him with no problem, which considering who we're talking about is a pretty big thing.

Kirishima can seem even more agitated than Deku about Bakugou being taken, and Deku is the one who idolized him since childhood.

The whole "It has to be you" thing and the precious hand holding (including that little scene after the rescue, where Kiri tries to grab Baku's hand again).

Kirishima bought expensive night vision googles in case they were useful for the rescue even though they had Yaomomo with them (this boy goes through extremes just to ensure his boyfriend's best friend's safety)

Kirishima is officially the one Bakugou considers an equal, and considering his conflicting inferiority and superiority complexes (making him perpetually place people as above him or beneath him) is vital information.

Kirishima is esentially Bakugou's first real friend (as Deku was considered more of an incomprehensible nuisance and his childhood troop seemed more like his followers who just put him up on a pedestal and followed what he did).

Kirishima has jumped in front of danger for Bakugou's sake quite a bit of times (including a time in the movie).

Kirishima is a central piece in Bakugou's character development.

Bakugou was the one who told Kirishima he was strong and gave him his confidence back, reminding him of what he said at the start of their friendship.

Kirishima unlocked fucking UNBREAKABLE because of Bakugou's encouragement.

Going to extra stuff:

Bakugou's favourite hobbie is hiking, and we're shown he takes Kirishima with him sometimes, thing he doesn't seem to do with other characters.

The whole festival thing, with the narrator outright assuming Bakugou must have given his coat to a pretty girl who was cold, only for it to be revealed in another picture that he gave it to Kirishima because as usual, he didn't have a shirt on.

On the movie Bakugou could have taken anyone to I-Island and took Kirishima as his plus one. They share a room. Kirishima bought suits for both of them, with the most detailed one with white roses being for Bakugou, and they decide to go to the party together.

In a BNHA Smash connected directly to the movie, Midoriya notices the white roses in Bakugou's suit and notes that they mean deep respect and "I'm the one for you", which prompts Bakugou to send an explosion his way (not to Kirishima who gave him the suit, mind you), which makes the flowers turn red (from blood), after which Mineta appears to say that red roses mean "beautiful and passionate love".

They are usually seen together in merch stuff.

There's this tumblr post talking about japanese fan's reactions to one of Horikoshi's drawings which I find at least hilarious:

https://exbrodokills.tumblr.com/post/187710597637/here-it-is

There are discussions regarding Kirishima's character sheet and the translation of him liking "tough guys" (here's a podt by aitaikimochi explaining the meaning of the translation: https://www.google.com/amp/s/aitaikimochi.tumblr.com/post/171127708911/amp) where even translator such as aitaikimochi have gotten into, and they have mentioned that there's a japanese stereotype of a type of gay guy who is obsessed with "manly behaviour" and usually stay away from women, prefering tough guys instead, which is interesting to say the least.

Some of the light novel episodes which show more slice of life moment feature some good kiribaku moments, with a prominent one being this one wich details their study date (it seriously seems like fan fiction, not even kidding, and this is supposed to be sort of canon):

https://www.google.com/amp/s/aitaikimochi.tumblr.com/post/171236111166/amp

Also there's a chapter where Kirishima tells Fatgum about Bakugou being extremely happy, and another one where they are arm wrestling between classes and they cheer for one another heavily.

(Honesly, just go through aitaikimochi's whole kiribaku tag, there are some pretty interesting things there)

Here are some analysis on their possible coding, if you guys are interested:

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1dxO6Y0yK_wxOJDmRsBYvsVWKwsH7tKc92skxJ--R1m4/edit?usp=drivesdk

(Bakugou's one link can be found at the end of that one)

And in BNHA Smash, there are quite a lot of things, and we must not forget that the whole thing still gets approved by Horikoshi before being published, some of my favourite things are:

Kirishima inviting Bakugou to spend christmas together, with the translators noting christmas in Japan to be a romantic holiday in the same panel.

In one issue, Jirou falls for Kiri and him being oblivious just leaves her for Bakugou.

Once Bakugou becomes a shoujo boy after being his with a quirk and just involuntarily talks in flirt, and in one moment Kirishima outright flirts back.

Bakugou works his ass off to repay Kirishima for the night vision googles they used in the rescue.

Kirishima is literally described as the chicken soup for Bakugou's soul!

An interesting thing I found out is that in the chapter where all of 1A minus Bakugou turn into animals, one scene originally had Kirishima (as a dog) getting jealous of Kaminari and Midoriya petting Tsuyu (as a cat - yes I know, a cat) and giving all their attention to her, however, Horikoshi himself changed that scene, noting he didn't think their character relations worked well in that scene, and made it so that the one that ended up in smash contains Kirishima (as a dog) getting jealous because Todoroki (as a koala) has climbed up Bakugou's torso and won't let go. I saw this all in a tumblr post a few months ago, which showed the original scene in a book (I think it was in italian and was translates below) but I can't currently find the link, sorry, if someone finds it, It'd be appreciated if you could reblog with said link.

And in regards to meta stuff, the show already has some LGBT characters in it, with Magne and Tiger being trans and Toga being bisexual, so it's not as much of a lost cause to hope for this as it would initially seem.

(Please kirimina shippers, don't take offence because of this, it isn't my intention to insult your ship, I simply want to analize what has been given to us, so please try to take this lightly):

We should also take into consideration Krishima's first version in the sort of "beta" for the manga (where Midoriya was Yamikumo).

His character sheet mentions he's quite the delinquent and entered UA to impress a girl. Obviously his character evolved tremendously since then, but the girl was most probably intended to be Mina's equivalent. This was later changed to him liking "tough guys"/"hard liners" and his thing with Mina became more of an "I admired your bravery and heroic spirit when in middle school even if I hardly knew you", later seeing each other and establishing more of a little friendship. However, it hasn't really moved further from there, and Kirishima has already established much stronger bonds with our favourite exploding boy. All changes in characters are made for a reason, and Horikoshi clearly changed his mind on Kirishima's motives for wanting to be a hero and his relationship with Mina.

So yeah, all in all, this ship is great, it's precious, adorable, helps both characters grow, is balanced and has good chemistry. So even if after all these things they don't become officially canon, we still have so much canon material for them in the present I'd honestly still be happy, these dorks make me smile and melt my heart, so I hope they both have good endings.

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veridium · 6 years

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sweet talk 101

PHEW. OKAY.

Part ten? HOLY SHIT? We are in part 10 of this thing. I am so delighted. So, here, have some fluff with a light touch of melodrama (as is my specialty). @bitchesofostwick and I love torturing our kids with sweetness followed by sourness, apparently.

ON THIS EPISODE: Cass and Liv are doing the whole friendship.com thing, though Liv can’t help but still wonder what her new pal’s plans are. One thing she knows for sure is that all her assumptions are quickly flying out the window. A text from her Mom reminds her of the fragility of her privacy and her expectations. Meanwhile, sweet bb Ellinor prepares for a totally casual and not at all scintillating project meeting with her blonde, handsome partner. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

Episode title brought to you by my falling back down the rabbit hole of Cute is What We Aim For’s music, especially this particular song.

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9

A week after Ellinor and Cullen are assigned their project --

2:57pm. Dammit, it’s 2:57pm. Call it already, Professor Lucas.

“Alright, that will be all.”

That is all she hears before her mind goes exclusively to packing up her lecture notebook, pencil bag, and canteen into her backpack. It’s get the hell out of dodge time. Up out of her seat and out the door as the Professor warns about the midterm study sessions coming up. Yes, yes, fine, she’ll ace the practice exam as usual. That doesn’t matter.

It’s Tuesday, and she’s got plans.

Jogging down the steps in her calf-high boots, she searches through the crowds of foot traffic and sees the pixie-cut she’s been waiting to see, against a lamp post. Blue skinny jeans and a t-shirt underneath a leather fitted jacket. A resting bitch face that turns to cordial stoicism, and melts her into smiling. Olivia has a type and she can’t even deny it anymore: women who look like they’d be just as ready to step on you as make you laugh.

“Hey!” she says as she walks up, a perk in her step that makes her ponytail bounce.

Cassandra grins and stands tall, holding her phone. “Hey!”

“You said wear pants.”

“That I did.”

Olivia eyes her, fending off the urge to giggle nervously like a beguiled school girl. “Do I get to find out why? I don’t usually cater to people’s whims, case you couldn’t tell.”

Cassandra’s grin grows. “Really? Last I checked, I am now 5-0 with requests on your time and company.”

OH. Ohoho. OHO. Olivia’s hands go balmy, a visceral response to being hung out to dry with just a simple sentence. She’s right, though. After their meet up at the Church, texting had recommenced at their expedient frequency. That had led to a redemption coffee outing on the following Wednesday, where Olivia sat down in place long enough to actually finish her chai. That would have been bad enough, if not for the wandering into a used bookstore afterward, where Olivia couldn’t resist mock reading from old social science journals to really drive their asinine, outdated theories home. That was the first time she heard Cassandra laugh. Honest to goodness laugh. It made her break character.

But ego does not pay any mind to sentimentality in the moment of injury.

She swats Cassandra on the back of her upper arm before folding hers against her tightened chest. “You got a punch card going or something, asshole?”

Cassandra chuckles low. A cocky chuckle. The confidence looks good on her, when it overpowers her steady and thoughtful exterior. “Come on, I only got a few minutes loaded on the parking meter.”

She’s unceremonious but charming as they walk down the sidewalk bordering front quad. It had been an odd text to wake up to, a request that she wear close-fitting shirt and pants, and bring something to tie back her hair. It reminds her of when adults would chide her and her friends in high school for letting people tell them how to dress. No one was allowed to do that! Unless, of course, they were your parents, your elders, the federal government…

A few minutes walk to a back parking lot, and they come to the front line of spots. Just down the line, passed the handicap spots, there’s a shiny black and purple bike cocked to the side, and two helmets resting on the seat.

She stops in her tracks. Cassandra walks a few feet ahead, before she turns and faces her.

“No fucking way,” Olivia’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open. “You’re shitting me.”

“Yes, because I definitely am a prankster,” Cassandra shakes her head. “Come on, you said you spend your weekends on bikes. Or was that you, shitting me?”

Olivia is getting sick of this woman being perfect. It’s nauseating, almost -- and by that, she means increasingly irresistible and that is becoming a problem. In all actuality it would make sense; kids who grew up in families like the Pentaghasts rarely had an interest that wasn’t generously indulged just because they could afford to do so. She probably had a inkling to ride a bike when she was nine, and they groomed her all the way up to being a licensed rider who competed in tournaments or something berserk like that. Just casual.

She slings her backpack straps onto both shoulders. “Well, shit.”

“What?” Cassandra asks as they resume walking.

“Nothing, I am just rarely rendered speechless.”

“Now that, I believe,” she smiles, a skip in her step as she bounces off the sidewalk onto the asphalt, grabbing both helmets and handing one to her. “Be honest, have you ridden on a bike before?”

Oh, sweetheart. Olivia laughs and takes the helmet, pulling her hair ponytail down to rest at the nape of her neck. “No, never. Absolutely not. I am a good girl.”

Cassandra sits up, back straight as she zips up the jacket she’s wearing. Now it makes sense why it reminds her of a moto jacket in a magazine. “I’m serious, Liv. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Ugh, I have, many times in fact.” Olivia sticks her tongue out before slipping her head into the helmet. It’s a bit snug, but that’s not a bad thing when it comes to helmets. “Just sit still and look pretty while I do my backflips on the freeway.”

“And people say I am relentless.” Cassandra smirks before putting her helmet on and standing up, swinging a leg onto the front seat. Olivia is way too besotted by the simple act of her straddling a bike for it to be healthy. A 20-something’s blood pressure is not supposed to spike like that. “Well, let’s go then.”

Olivia’s heart races. It’s a simple request. She’s done it more than a dozen times. Get on the bike, hold the person by the sides of their waist, and enjoy the ride. Holding her breath, she approaches and does as Cassandra did, bringing a leg over -- God, the bike is tall -- and perches herself on the back seat.

Cassandra takes hold of her steering, and Olivia takes hold of her. Leaving room for Jesus, to be sure. Out the corner of her eye she spots a small group of onlooking people outside the doors to the building in front of the lot. They look like a bunch of east coast preps lost on their way to the nearest Hollister, and their faces are anything but pleased. One girl with french braids and a binder to her chest, brow furrowing. A guy, hands on his hips, wearing a knit Ralph Lauren-looking sweater even though it’s a 70 degrees out at least. A couple others, but it’s those two faces that stink the most.

What’s good, bro? Got milk with fat in your latte this morning, Chadworth? she sneers in her head. Her temper has two gears: territorial pomeranian, and pomeranian gone off the rails.

Cassandra kicks up the stand and revs the engine. “Ready?” she yells over her shoulder.

Olivia’s hands press harder against her waist, and she refocuses. “Negative, Ghost Rider, the pattern is full.” She then leans against her back, as close as her mouth can get to her ear. “Hell yeah I am.”

They reverse and then blow the popsicle stand. Cassandra rides well, and she doesn’t speed or try things. Corners are careful, speed limits respected. When they merge onto the freeway Olivia leans against her straight rather than do what she likes to do -- tricks like tossing her arms into the air, arching back, feeling the adrenaline race in her veins. Instead, she holds on, and takes in the scene racing on either side of them. No backflips.

Eventually they get off several exits down and pull into uptown where the pho shop is. It’s small, and tucked away a bit, but it’s a favorite among “the students” as the locals would say. They find a table by the window, small and built for two, and go ham on two bowls of soup.

“Oh yeah, toss those babies in,” Olivia teases, sliding her bowl across so Cassandra can drop in the peppers she doesn’t want. “Ah, yes, glorious. Thank you.”

Cassandra grins, throwing in the last piece and then grabbing for more bean sprouts. “Your table manners are compelling.”

“Good, it took me five years of debutante training to get me to stop hanging off the chandeliers.”

“Only five?”

“Five...and a half,” she wags her finger in the air, her other hand stirring her noodles around. Cassandra is spooning some broth to her lips, not a single sound of slurping or crass inhaling. It’s textbook table etiquette.

“So, how was your day?” she asks after she swallows.

“Good. Class was good...a lecture on the Peloponnesian war. I should have known better than take an Antiquated history class without bothering with the prereq.”

“What, is it difficult?”

“Not...exactly,” Liv shrugs, tossing a piece of beef into her mouth. “It’s just involved. Like, everyone there wants to be the next great archeologist or history authority. I just want to know how we got this point in our society, get an A, and move on.”

Cassandra wipes the side of her lip with her napkin, before placing it to the table and picking up another bundle of noodles between her chopsticks. “I can understand that. Some people really get bizarre in those classes. I once got into it with a guy who insisted on his hair-brained reddit factoids being true even though they stipulated that Stalin was like, this nice guy who loved kids and lattes.”

“Agh! What the fuck?”

“I know. I nearly asked him to throw hands on the quad afterward. Tell him where he could put his soviet apologia. I hate it when I’m made to feel like reduced to capitalist swine just for telling Craig whoever-the-hell that all his heroes died despotic cowards, and it’s not an ‘ironic’ fascination if he has a giant U.S.S.R flag hanging in his dorm room.”

Olivia snorts as she’s mid-gulp of broth, her hand going to her mouth and cupping against her lips and wet nose. She turns away briefly to wipe off her mess, while Cassandra looks on with a smile. A habitual concern is smearing her lipstick, but as she’s pressing, she remembers she didn't put on any that morning. In fact, she hardly bothered with anything more than concealer and eyeliner. She could rub her face in a thick towel, and it would be fine.

“I hope that was meant to be a laugh. You okay?” she comments, taking in another mouthful of noodles.

“You know,” Olivia remarks as she presses her napkin to her face, hopefully not smearing her contour or highlight, “you comment a lot on my quirks. You got a problem, Pentaghast?”

“Not at all, Sinclair. Why would I?” she tilts her chin, her hand stilling.

“Uh, I don’t know. You bothered, or whatever.” Maybe you’re trying to tell me to stop doing it by commenting, like my parents do. Darling, you’re mouth breathing. Sweetie, you talk when you can’t improve the silence.

“Nah,” Cassandra chews small, “Just teasing. If anything, your concern should be that I find you too fascinating to be real.”

Butterflies. She’s been causing them more lately ever since they agreed to this ‘friendship.’ Because that was totally what was supposed to happen when you’re good pals.

“Hm,” Olivia nods, preparing another bite in her bowl. “I’ll take that answer.”

“Lofty affirmation.”

“Yep.”

They settle into eating for a minute or two. Her phone had sat untouched on the corner of the table, on silent, too. Texts and calls don’t matter in the moment. It’s her getaway for more reasons than she’d like to admit.

“Speaking of bothered. Cullen’s still trying to pretend he doesn’t care that Ellinor wants to be friends. There’s no living with him,” Cassandra says, breaking the contented silence. “It’s been, what, a week since they got that group project assignment?”

“Ugh, yeah,” Olivia watches her broth as she stirs around the floating veggies. “Ellinor won’t stop not talking about it. But they’re finally meeting up soon, right? They have to. It’s like, the rule of group projects.”

“...Does she like him?”

“Does he like her?”

Their eyes meet, and smiles grow on both their faces. Olivia laughs to off-set her nerves from it. “Shit, obvious answers are obvious.”

She shakes some more of the hoisin sauce into her bowl, before tossing it up in the air towards Cassandra’s side. Cassandra, in her athletic prowess, catches it without so much as looking up.

“You’re keeping me on my toes. What’s next, another ‘trust’ fall?”

Olivia shakes her head mockingly and upturns her nose. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“You got the wrong girl if you’re looking for lack of protestation,” Cassandra counters, mixing.

“Maybe you’d find better company with those people watching us get on your bike. They looked full of ideas to protest. Women’s reproductive choice, suffrage, poor people having rights…”

“You mean Daniel and everyone?”

Great. Of course, she knows them. “...Uh, sure?”

“Hah,” Cassandra shakes her head. “They’re opinionated, alright. Just not very good, or original, at it. They go to Church. Our families know each other. All fun friends at the ski lodge and mission trips,” she mocks, eyes rolling a bit.

Church, church, church. It all went back to Church. That was perhaps the most religious thought she had ever had on her own volition.

“So, I take it they’re not very cool?”

“That’s one way of putting it. Insufferable is another.”

“Does that mean they don’t like you being around me?”

Cassandra holds her noodles mid-air hanging on the chopsticks as she pauses to give her a look. “Liv, they dislike a lot of things.”

“Yeah, but, they were giving me shitty glares of death in the parking lot. And I’m not a thing.”

“I didn’t say you where. I just meant that--”

“It’d make sense, I mean...promiscuous witch straddling your bike with her blasphemous thighs, you riding off on the highway to hell,” she starts to choke on her laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

Cassandra smiles smartly. There’s a glimmer in her eye that wasn’t there before. “I try not to worry what other people think. It gets ridiculous after a while, if you let it under your skin. My family brings enough attention to my life as it is. I don’t need to treat everything like tabloid fodder in my free time. But if I did, I’d want it to be written using your flare for vivid imagery.”

She’s eloquent, even when she’s hanging out with no audience. A bit awkward on the delivery at times, but sincere. It’s adorable.

“Right,” Olivia crinkles her nose, “heh, you’re right. I shouldn’t have picked. It’s pointless. I am who I am, anyways.”

“Yes, you are.” She looks up and sees Cassandra admiring her with that quiet, confident stare. A straight mouth, but softened eyes. It’s all in the eyes.

They finish more than an hour later, way passed the amount of time it objectively takes to down a small order of pho. They also take their time walking back to her bike. It’s a partly cloudy day, but warm -- worth the dallying. Olivia will probably get sunburnt, but there’s no reason to care. She does that thing where she pretends she’s walking on a tightrope, and even hops on a couple side-by-side benches to do so. Cassandra keeps to herself, but matches her pace at every slow-down and quickening of steps.

Then, she does one of those things that surprises Olivia just as she thinks she has the situation settled: as she approaches the end of the last bench, Cassandra offers her hand to her. She stops and stares at it, probably longer than she should if the goal is to play it all cool and nonchalant.

Her eyes flicker to Cassandra’s. She’s looking at her with civil kindness, impossible to read. Olivia tucks her chin a bit, grins, and glides her palm ever-so-quickly against hers. She hops down and feels the bracing strength in her handhold -- it was not needed, but it was something else. Something humbling. With her feet back on the ground, she is the first to remove her hand, so that she doesn’t have to survive the sensation of Cassandra being the first to break away.

Eventually it’s back on the bike and to campus where they belong. On the way, Olivia leans against her back, inch for inch, but it’s no big deal. Jesus still has room, somewhere, right? At one point, though, when they are rounding onto a neighborhood street -- one she recognizes as being a couple blocks from Rylen’s house of horrors -- she lets her hand go out to the side, fingers spindling through the air. Cassandra looks over, but due to the helmet, she can’t tell whether she’s mad or not. She doesn’t say anything, and Cassandra is the kind of person to say something -- so she takes it as approval.

When they pull into the fire lane behind her dorm and stop, Olivia would rather stick a hair pin in her eye and dismount. But, she makes it look easy as best she can, hopping down and sliding the helmet off her head. She hands it back to her while shaking her hair loose. Cassandra remains on her seat, but sits up. It gives Olivia leave to stand close, for the sake of the engine noise.

“Thanks for the ride. It was a perfect first bike trip,” she teases, thumbs hooking onto her backpack straps.

“No problem,” Cassandra projects through the rim of her helmet.

Olivia rolls her lip. “I’ll...uh, I’ll text you.”

“Please do.”

Dammit with that poker face. What gives? What’s in it for her? What’s got her so smug?

“Okay, well…” she rocks her weight between her toes and her heels, “get home safe!”

“I will. Have a good night, Olivia.”

This is where she is supposed to walk away. Again. She nods and turns for the door to the ground floor. Although, Cassandra does not turn tail and leave until Olivia is fully inside, safe and sound -- as if that were a concern to have, logically.

Oh, she can do that, but she can’t push be back on the bike seat and...

Once inside, she exhales her pent up breath and shoulders the wall, groaning. Everything is great, but yields no decisive result. Cassandra makes being straight look like a corkscrew roller-coaster ride, and feel like it, too. Olivia is signing up for every go-around she can, only to be dropped off and told to collect her bag and loose jewelry from the cubby hole.

Her thoughts go quiet as she gets up the stairs, and onto her and Ellinor’s floor. And who does she meet coming her way but the grunge queen herself, who’s face flushes in the instant they see each other. Ellinor is dressed for public, and carrying her bag. Her book bag. It’s gotta be no later than 5pm. She tries to pivot and go the other way, but Olivia is hep to her antics.

“No no, no you don’t missy!” she calls after her, walking faster to catch up, “get back here!”

“I don’t...I cant...I can’t hear you!” Ellinor mouths while she stuffs her other headphone back in her ear.

“Ellinor Trevelyan!”

She freezes, shoulders bunch against her ears.

“That’s right. Turn around and meet your maker. Where are you going at this temperate evening hour?”

“Uh…” Ellinor side-steps, “I got...homework…”

“What kind of homework? Would that be...Lit homework?”

“No!”

Olivia stops in front of her, and with a swift fist she punches her best friend’s bookbag. It feels like a sack of cinderblocks. “Right. That’s Lit class heaviness. Try again.”

Ellinor sucks on her cheek, folding her arms that are wrapped in hoodie sleeves. “I’ve got Lit homework. Sue me.”

“Oh, you bet your ass you do. A project’s worth. You going to meet with someone?”

“Maybe. I got friends, you know.”

Olivia narrows her eyes. “Bullshit. Who?”

“No one in the vicinity…”

“Hah! You’re meeting up with him! Fucking finally!”

Ellinor slumps and bends her knees, tossing her head back. “Shit, yes okay, fine. I am. We have a meet-up. I’m doing what I’m supposed to. Got it? Had your fun?”

Olivia dances from foot to foot, smiling and giggling with triumph. “Ohoho, don’t stay out too late, child. Curfew it at 9:30pm! Make good choices! Don’t let him get all in your petticoats!”

Ellinor looks ready to astral project out of this dimension and call it a day. But, as Olivia passes her and backwards steps so that she can continue mocking her with giggles and singing words, she surprisingly stays grounded in this plane of existence.

“Stu-dy bud-dies, stu-dy bud-dies, stu-dy bud-dies!” Olivia chants, scooting her boots back towards her door down the hall.

“Yeah, right! Better than noodle buddies! Get enough slurping?!” Ellinor barks back.

Olivia blushes and bites her lip, before turning her but toward her and perking it up. “Never enough!”

“Ugh, son of a--”

“Buh-bye, friend! Have fun! Kiss kiss fall in love!”

Ellinor makes her escape, drawing the line at old anime haunts of their freshman year depression pit. That leaves Olivia at her door, keys rustling in her backpack side pocket. She gets out her phone and makes quick for her messages, typing in Cassandra’s name.

-- I think Ellinor is coming over to your place for their project. Look alive and be prepared to evacuate the premises if necessary, lol.

Olivia shoves her key in her lock and feels another buzzing sensation. Thinking -- hoping -- it’s Cassandra, she looks quick.

To her disappointment, it’s Mom:

-- Do not forget the gala coming up! You HAVE to come home before! Mom-daughter time at the spa, LOL! Love ya! XO

Right. God dammit. She lets her arms fall and rocks her forehead into her door, groaning with the bane of a thousand tempers. Right around midterms, no less. Cassandra was right -- it was fatiguing to care about what other people thought. But it was different to overcome that when your entire life was groomed for social climbing, instead of you being born already at the top like she had. It’s easier not to care when you’re looking down at all your critics.

But, Mommy-Daughter spa time! ‘LOL’ was not the sentiment she would have used to describe it. “Fate worse than death she must relive for all time” -- now that, that was an apt descriptor. She gets in through her door, drops her stuff on her desk, and hops into the shower soon after. Once that’s done and she returns wrapped in a towel, her thoughts have spun once or twice around the planet’s equator. Turning the lamp on as its getting dark outside, she unplugs her phone from the charger by her desk, and pulls up Ellinor’s name in her texts.

-- My Mom isn’t dropping the museum trustee gala nightmare she wants to drag me to. I want to walk the plank. Hope your not-study date is going well! Tell Cullen hey for me, and be niceee!!!!

She’ll probably invite Ellinor to come along so that her Mom doesn’t get to push her onto the arm of one of her girlfriends’ sons, or even worse, one of Olivia’s beefcake cousins. It’s more than annoying, it’s excruciating, and she hates that it is.

Collapsing back on her bed, she exhales with the daydream of Cassandra by the lamp post wearing that jacket. She wants it all to herself, safe and sound. Fuck.

#fic update #adventures of ellinor and olivia #ellinor trevelyan #modern thedas au #college au #olivia sinclair #modern!olivia #WHOOO THE CHEMISTRY IN THIS CHILI'S TONIGHT

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moortale · 7 years

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my life is so craYCRAY right now, so imma just jot down some shit so I can feel better. I got my wisdom teeth out on Tuesday (it's 2:55 am thursday morning) and the left side of my face is either sore or numb. I can't feel my tongue because it's numb, so I can't tell if i'm burning my taste buds whenever I eat soup. I miss eating solid food and I can't believe I took this shit for granted since I got my braces off ): i'm really annoyed that my mom couldn't put aside her problems for one day to take care of me post surgery, but nah she had to come out the side of her neck at her boyfriend right in front of me over the DUMBEST SHIT. i really like John and he's done so much for my mom and he's so nice to me. he's really cool because he's a chef and we bond over cooking. he's just really cool and I have no reason to really have a problem with him now. I feel bad for John because my mom is just a heinous bitch with a short fuse, i'm convinced she'll always be that way. she lets money dictate everything and it's sad, it's even more sad that my dad feels the one to blame for it...she wants someone to pay her way for her now that she is no longer married to my dads wallet. my mom got really pissed off at me and got sideways with me because I didn't want to be her "roommate" and she justified her argument with the good ol "you don't want to help out your mother? a good daughter would, your sister would" okay?????? that??? doesn't make me feel bad??? lmao no, sorry mom i'm not going to pay your bills..maybe your other daughter can though, since you're so far up her mother fucking ass. my mom wanted to be r o o m a t e s, those were her choice of words...i'm your daughter, not your fucking roommate. anyways, back to the fight at my moms...I can't stand the way my mom talks down to people, she will talk down to anyone and not feel sorry for it because she simply "doesn't give a fuck". but heaven forbid someone else besides her "doesn't give a fuck" it's their fault that the sky isn't a perfect shade of blue. she literally talks to her boyfriend like how she talks to his dogs (which makes me sick beyond words) she talks to her boyfriend like how she talked to me and my father. it brought me to tears because I felt the hurt in his johns voice, I could feel the disrespect, I know exactly at that moment how he felt, I didn't even have to be in the same room as hem and I felt every single hint of hurt...and I lost it, every single word that fell out of her mouth felt like the stitches in my heart were being ripped all over again. not only did that bring me to tears, this did as well, my mom can't compose her peace for not even 12 hours, but bitches and complains that i'm a "negative person who likes negative energy". how am I supposed to know the difference between negative and positive energy? I grew up in a house that had two sides, the side everyone saw in public and the side I saw once the curtains had closed..they were polar opposites, heaven and hell if you will. in public, we were painted as your typical rich suburban family with everything served to us on gold pleated china plates. behind the curtains, it was non stop screaming and raging between my parents, between my sister and I, just constant chaos..so there was never a good energy in that house. the energy only deepened and eventually submerged into a gaping black whole when my dad moved out and I had began to live with my mom by myself. never was there a positive energy, unless my mom was at work. other than that, her and I were at each others necks, that house was filled with nothing but lies and false hope to get a sip of happiness out of my "half full" glass. if I wasn't in my room putting concoctions down my throat and up my nose, I was partying on the beach with a boy or plotting ways to avoid any contact with my mom at home so that we don't fight. my mom would yell at before she even pulled in the neighborhood for breathing the wrong way, AND GOD FOR BID a dirty towel is on my bathroom floor. So no, mom, I don't love negative energy- i just don't know any different. I honestly pray that 2017 isn't anything like 2016,15,14,13....it goes on.. this year i'm only gonna focus on myself and do what's good for me because it's my last year before I become a fully developed adult with actual responsibilities. I spent my entire paycheck on a bonnaroo ticket and a groop camping pass, i'm happy that i'm not going with any of my friends because I don't have to worry about anyone but myself and not even think about hurting anyone's feelings because I wanna go off and do my own thing. idk, I just feel bad when I tell my friends "nah imma just go off and be myself for some me time for like 7 hours", but this time i'm going to be camping with reddaroo (biggest camping groop at bonnaroo started on Reddit 3 years ago) 225+ weird ass people who are all like me. i'm so fucking excited because I leave in like 2 months and i don't have to drive this time, I don't have to bring all of my shit, I don't have to drive to florida, i don't have to drive, oh and did I mention not driving? lmao i'm so excited to ride in the backseat passed out against the window. most of the reddaroo groopies are all in one huge group chat, I just got added to it about 2 ours ago and I fucking love everyone in it. we're all just making jokes, talking about who we wanna see, the food we wanna eat, shrooms, shia labeouf, all sorts of shit. i'm just excited to escape my own personal reality and not knowing anyone..i'm excited to make new friends, it would be nice to find a honey who looks like thor so I can make out with him during the red hot chili peppers (wishful fuckin thinking) and hopefully marry him (again, wishful fuckin thinking). i'm sure i'm the only person who will read this, but if not..i'm sorry I sound uneducated, I typed this in like 7 minutes.

#i'm a mess #meh #shitposting2017

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surveys4ever · 3 years

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What’s the last vegetable you ate, and when did you eat it? I put red bell peppers in the breakfast burritos we had for dinner last night!

What was your last Facebook notification for? Someone requested to join a group I admin.

What bands have you seen live? Sadly I haven’t seen many bands live. Last ones I saw were Paramore and X Ambassadors!

Tell me an interesting fact about your mother: Ummm...she got weight loss surgery a few years ago.

What do you think is the most important thing to happen to you before the age of 13? My dad left and my mom remarried and had a bunch more kids she likes more than me.

What were you super against as a young child but aren’t anymore? Cheesecake, broccoli, water, atheists. Now cheesecake is my favorite, I love broccoli, water is the only thing I drink, and I AM an atheist.

What are your plans later today? I have to shower and make dinner. Other than that idk.

Are you doing anything exciting this weekend? Sadly probably not. Beebs works so I’m probably just gonna work on a sewing project or something.

Who do you talk to the most? My husband or our dog!

What are some things you do regularly that make you feel old? Go on TikTok.

Who is your best guy friend(s)? My husband!

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I’m good where I’m at!

If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? It depends on the scar and its placement. I’d probably get it removed tho.

Have you had an x-ray in the past year? Nope! Last one was in the 9th grade.

Do you think your first love still loves you? I’d sure hope so.

What is something that is “going right” in your life? We’re debt free for the first time since we got married, my husband is fixed, and we just finished getting a bunch of repairs done on our car!

When did you feel ready to start dating? I don’t think there was a moment I decided I was ready...it just happened!

When was the last time your pet bit you? If you don’t have a pet, have you ever been bitten by someone else’s? I mean...she’s never bitten me maliciously! Just playfully.

Where were you the last time you made out? In bed I believe.

When was the last time you cried tears of joy? When a company I’ve loved forever sent me a massive PR box with so much more than I could have ever expected. I sat on the kitchen floor and cried.

How do you type your sad smileys? :(

Do you have “decorative hand-towels” that cannot be used in your house? Nah!

What was the last soda you drank? I had a coke slushie earlier!

What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? I’m not sure! It was probably something silly my husband was teasing me for.

Have you ever had any type of surgery? No, thank god.

Should kids be allowed to get tattoos/piercings without parental consent? Yeah. It’s their body!

Who was the last person to hit on you? Some weirdo on the internet told me my bellybutton must smell like roses.

What was the last thing you decided not to do, that you were supposed to? Shower..oops.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell someone? I don’t know!

What do you put on hot dogs? Mayo, ketchup, mustard, and cheese.

Ever fallen in the shower? Slipped but not fallen!

Do you think that things will get better? I really hope so!

Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? Yup.

What’s your favourite book genre? I don’t know if I have one!

Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? I almost walked out of Toy Story 4 because the people behind us were so goddamn rude and their kid kept pulling my hair.

Do dogs like you? Oh hell yeah.

Would you say that you project an air of authority? Maybe? I’m a bossy Capricorn so I exude some level of leadership but I’m also not comfortable being in charge of anyone.

Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? Absolutely not.

Do you use one towel when you shower or two? Two! One for my hair and one for my body.

Have you ever been to one of the great lakes? Nope!

Who do you know that had a baby recently? Um! Lots of Facebook friends but no one personally.

Do you like Usher’s songs? Eh! They’re alright.

When was the last time you went to a waterpark? Oh god. Like 15 years ago.

Have you ever ridden a train? When I was a young tot, yes!

What do you eat your French fries with? Depends on the fry! Ranch is usually my favorite.

Do you have family problems? Hahahahaha....hahahaha...yes. So fucking many.

What’s the last food you ate that was stale? I don’t know? I don’t eat stale food very often.

How do you like your grilled cheese? Extra cheesy with tomato soup!

What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? Pasta aglio e olio!

What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? Spend time with my grandma!

Have you ever been close to drowning? Nope.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Ugh, many times. They are terrifying.

Do you like doing housework? Sometimes! Other times I’d rather do l i t e r a l l y anything else.

Would you ever get implants? I want a breast lift but I’m afraid to go under anesthesia.

Do you own a robe? A few, yeah!

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yup, but that’s none of your beeswax.

Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off? If it’s dominos, I just toss it but if it’s anything else, I’ll eat it!

What was the last song you listened to? I Don’t Wanna Wait by Paula Cole.

Have any of your family members been to jail? In laws, yes!

Is there anyone that you feel you still need some closure with? Yeah, sadly.

Can you remember when you first learned how to read? Yup! Kindergarten.

What event in your life has transformed your personality the most? Probably having to give up my childhood to be the big sister. I’m inherently motherly, I take care of everyone, but I have no desire to be a mother.

Have you ever had any teeth pulled? Just my wisdoms!

Do you still want to be what you wanted to be in elementary school? I wanted to be famous.

What’re some TV shows that you would like to get into? I feel like I watch all of the shows that interest me!

How would you feel if you were drafted for the military? Uh...no.

What is your favorite Queen song? Fat Bottomed Girls!

Do you know how to use any foreign currency? Well yeah but I mean...I’m not sure what there is to know about it? You go to the bank, exchange your money for the other money, and then spend it as you see fit. It’s a lot easier to just use your bank card tho.

Been kissed by someone who you knew was “bad” for you? Nope!

Ever taken an at-home pregnancy test? Yeahhhh, sadly. My period is a little bitch who likes to show up late a lot and I’m an anxious mess so I usually take tests to give me some peace of mind while I wait.

When was the last time you were at a loss of what to do? I’m never at a loss of what to do!

What did you do on your favorite date with a guy/girl? We went to a theme park! It was absolutely magical.

What’s a movie you have seen in the theater more than once? Inside out and Just Friends! We saw Inside Out by ourselves, with my husband’s best friend, and then with my family just because it was so fkn good. And then my best friend at the time was obsessed with Ryan Reynolds and saw it I think like 10 times by herself, 2 of which were with me.

What is the reason you’re still alive? My heart is still pumping?

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? I’ve had sex in my parents’ hotel room while they were down at the pool...sorry mom.

Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? I never brush my hair except for right after a shower. I have curly hair and brushing it is the literal worst thing you can do.

Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) I don’t believe so!

Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Yes and yes!

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? Bleary! My husband was calling me to wake me up.

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? I do, even when I don’t really want to.

Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Friends and family, yeah.

Would you date someone with a physical disability? I mean, I'm married, but in a theoretical world where I was single, that wouldn’t be something that would deter me if I loved someone.

Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? He has not!

The last time you dyed your hair, what color did you dye it? Purple! That was only like 2 weeks ago.

Think of the last time you went out to eat. Who paid? We did!

Do you save at least 15 percent of your income? 20%, actually!

Do you ever go on Reddit? If so, what are some of your favorite subreddits? I’ve only ever gone to Reddit because Google suggested it to me to answer a question I had.

Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? I was only 4 but I guess I was my mom’s maid of honor/flower girl at her wedding.

Are your parents in good health? My mom is but my dad has high cholesterol and bad back pain. Nothing super serious tho.

Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? Nope!

Is there any type of medicine you can’t take? For what reason? Not that I’m aware of but most medications have weird affects on me. NyQuil makes me hallucinate, Novocaine makes me loopy, and oui’d makes me see shit, so?

Do you have a favorite pair of pajamas? What do they look like? I really just wear a T-shirt and shorts to bed.

Do you have any interesting pillow cases? All my pillow cases rn are vintage and I love them!

If something on your body hurts, which part is it most likely to be? I just have really sensitive feet and every pair rubs them raw or causes blisters/bleeding so they usually hurt.

Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Spiders, definitely.

Have you ever worn fake nails? If so, what did the last pair you wore look like? I had acrylics for a year! I don’t remember the last set I had on tho.

Is Russian or Native American history more interesting to you? Native American.

#survey

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count-demonlord-of-decadence · 6 years

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The following excerpts are from Barbara Aikman's initial FBI interview.

Please forgive me, as I am to tell this story exactly as it’s maestro dictates. Many of these specific details he provided after the fact, But I can assure you, it’s all true officer. And since I value my life I shall do just such.

My name is Barbara Akiman, I’m a 28 year old woman from Fontana, California. I have a husband and two wonderful sons. I work as a webcam model during the school year and I voted for Trump. I was kidnapped during a webcam session with a suspiciously generous tipper. In hindsight that’s how they knew where I’d be, when I’d be there and alone. They wore all black combat suits and helmets. That’s all I saw for about six seconds before they gagged & hoodwinked me. I remember the hoodwink smelling of okra and fear. I was handcuffed and gently placed on the backseat of an electric car.

The car ride lasted the first eight tracks of Let It Roll; it’s an album released in 1989 by Don Johnson. From there I was placed in a helicopter with other people similarly restrained. We could hear each others moans and groans but were powerless to do anything. The helicopter ride was turbulent and lasted the entire length of Cool with You: The Platinum Collection plus the first six songs repeated. BTW, it’s the Asian edition "best of" album by Jennifer Love Hewitt, released in 2006. Again many of these details were provided for me after the fact. Again, these are the specific details he demanded I not leave out.

The helicopter took us to the M/Y Eclipse, a luxury motor yacht built by Blohm+Voss of Hamburg, Germany. I was the last one removed from the chopper. I was placed in a wheelchair, wrists and ankles restrained. The hoodwink was removed and I could see the beautiful yacht, clear blue sky and the deep blue sea before being wheeled inside. I was rushed at breakneck speed to the disco hall. A nerdy looking woman with glasses and bad acne in a filthy lab coat fitted me with a speculum and a dental gag. I was then wheeled front and center to the stage where I could witness this atrocity.

At first I was alone but over the course of the first nine tracks of C. Webb’s 2 Much Drama, a crowd of eccentrics gathered as if it were a social event. To them, it was. Drinks and hor dourves were served. A man wearing top hat, black tail coat, dark glasses, and cotton plugs in the nostrils, all in gold, took the stage and said,

“Welcome to our 4th of July party! I am you host, Demon Lord of the Black Magick Syndicate. Everybody clap your hands!” No one does, he continues, “Tonight’s event is simply an auction. We have enough victims to ensure no one will leave unsatisfied. Except maybe Nina.” This was a private joke about the tall woman with blonde extensions, wearing a dress that can only be described as, “Grandma threw up her split pea soup on an unflattering green bridesmaid dress.

“Each guest is allowed to bid on as many victims as you like up until you purchase one, then you’re out of the bidding. You’re free to use your victim however you please but it must be done here where we all can see.” This brought a cheer from the crowd eccentrics gathered about me, “And know that all corpses will be tossed overboard before we return to port. Oh, and one more thing. Bidding starts at ten thousand pounds and only bids in ten thousand pound increments will be recognized. C.O.D. of course. With that, on with the show!”

Before I continue let’s state that all of the victims were paraded out devoid of all clothing and makeup by the black clad soldiers I mentioned earlier. And the prisoners were unaware of what happened to each other.

“Marcia Lopez is an 11 year old El Salvadorian girl who was apprehended while trying to illegally enter the US.” She is sold for £1.1 million to a man that was obviously Donald Trump in a navy suit with a red tie, wearing an eagle mask. He physically overpowers the girl and rapes her, in a manner that obscures the crowd of eccentrics’ view of his genitalia. He commands her to shout compliments about him, but she doesn’t speak English which enrages him. Julio Camacho of the Sinaloa Cartel offers to translate but the Donald demands only English be spoken while he’s “making love”. After he discharged, Donald claimed he was too tired and too important to add to the pot and kill the girl himself. He claimed that’s what lackies were for. This is jeered by the crowd of eccentrics.

Viktor violently grabs the POTUS by the jaw and balls as Demon Lord graphically explains to Donald that if he doesn’t kill that girl and add to the pot; he will be the next item up for bid. He laments that he didn’t bring a gun, but Viktor lends him his Smith & Wesson Model 500. With tears in his eyes, the POTUS shoots the girl in the face. The bullet hits her on her left top incisor and does a satisfactory job of nearly decapitating the girl. He uses a serving spoon to scoop out some of the girls brains and add them to the pot. He then retires from the event while trying to pretend he isn’t crying.

“This is Dreama Beckett a 31 year old mother of four who whored her own children out to feed her prescription drug addiction. Her own children arranged for her to be here today.” She is sold to a man who is obviously former US president William Jefferson Clinton in a cheap suit from Walmart and an antiquated rabbit mask. It was repeatedly noted that he wasn’t wearing shoes or socks.

He has the woman locked in the pillory and thoroughly raped by a 54 year old homeless man from the streets of Cairo he brought as a guest. Just as the bum discharges into the woman’s womb, he cuts the trachea of the bum with the kama half of his kusarigama. He then sodomizes the dying bum and strangles Dreama with the chain portion of his kusarigama. His discharge comes with a roar so loud it would remain a topic of conversation for the remainder of the event. Her corpse seemed to be ignored by the sharks on the way down.

“Our next victim is 14 year old Olivia Huxtable of Atlanta Georgia. She came into our clutches due to corruption in the Georgia foster care system.” She is sold for £530,000 to a woman in a heliotrope pants suit and peacock masquerade mask that was obviously Hillary Diane Rodham Clinton.

She has the poor girl locked in the pillory and plays Gold Cobra, the fifth studio album by American nu metal band Limp Bizkit. She then performs acts of cunnilingus on the girl so thorough, so profound, she’s to remain the envy of all female witnesses, including myself, until the moment she expires. The girl is then raped with a strap on dildo by the former First Lady who shouts expletives and insults at the poor girl. She fucks her like she intends to kill the girl with rigorous fucking. She then insisted Mahmoud Togo and Viktor anally rape the girl, and they happily oblige. Mrs. Clinton the used an obsidian knife to slice off the poor girls breasts and add them to the pot. She then raped the girl with the knife and smeared the blood all over her face and the girls. She the made the herself a cup of coffee and made the girl watch as she drank it. Then had her tossed overboard.

“Meet 17 year old Chad Leftwich of Jackson Mississippi. He is better known as reddit, twitter and 4chan user 66WhiteApolloCreed420. His racist tweets, rants and memes are just a means of getting likes for him. He doesn’t truly feel this way in his heart.” This was jeered by the crowd of eccentrics. “Yes Chad! This is the beauty of our delights, that we pursue them with clear purpose and perpetual enthusiasm! That is why tonight all shall expose their passions and pursuits to all! No secrets between us! This allows us to overcome any and all segregations society tries to impose upon use with the yokes of religion, nationality, skin and race! If all were to follow their delights, one would soon find others who wanted to find similar delights, while moving away from those who wanted no part of such delights. Entire societies could be built upon the principle of what delights are legal here that are illegal there. And should one find the no longer wished to participate in what is happening here, they need only go there where it is illegal and never have to endure it again. And that state should welcome him with open arms because he has turned towards their way of life. But men and women never see themselves as the problem though, society is wrong for not being like them. They wish to impose their brand of order on people who never asked for it, don’t want it, and resent it for even being offered. So they start crusades and inquisitions and lynchings to rid their neighborhoods of undesirables among which they numbered only a few short months ago. And are among the first to cry foul when turnabout proves to be fair play. How boring.”

He is sold to woman in a designer heliotrope pants suit and ornate peacock masquerade mask that was obviously Melania Trump for £990,000. She has the man locked in the pillory and proceeds to shove a Billionaire couture Umbrella up the man’s ass as far as it will go before attempting to open it, like it should naturally open under these conditions. There is some speculation among the crowd if this is malice or ignorance but it’s quickly dropped. She then requests Demon Lord, Cammie, Nina & Viktor take turns dislocating a joint on Chad’s body until none remain. She defecates a thick steaming log into the man’s mouth, which Viktor helps him swallow. . She then rapes him with a strap on horse dildo made of ivory for exactly 900 seconds She the goes ass to ass with the aforementioned Zara Hogan with a rather large double dildo, screaming racial and religious epithets the entire time. Her discharge is so voluminous that she is able to salvage most of it and add it to the still simmering pot. The First Lady then chokes her victim to death the the double dildo. When he is tossed overboard, she watches him sink until she cannot see him anymore.

This is a work of satire. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination; or used in a fictitious manner to expose and criticize foolishness and corruption of an individual or a society by using humor, irony, exaggeration or ridicule. It intends to improve humanity by criticizing its follies and foibles. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

#donald trump #hillary clinton #bill clinton #first lady melania

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lanashellrey-blog · 6 years

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Home

Being home is bad nostalgia. I hate driving by the places we’d go, the places we’d share laughs, the places we’d eat. I hate missing my friends. I hate feeling lonely in my own hometown.

On Thursday, I woke up to a message from him saying he was upset. He’d had a bad day. He cried in the dining hall. I called him immediately. He was laughing again. We were telling jokes. After that, he and I talked all day long. We talked on the phone. I felt happy. I didn’t eat a single thing. My stomach felt like it could explode all day. I laid in bed. I slept, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep talking.

Mom came home that night and she came directly to my bedroom. She found me laying on my side in the same position that I had been all day. She told me to eat. Told me that I needed to give this up. That it was bad for me. I was cheating myself of happiness. He was deceiving me. I shouldn’t trust him anymore. I couldn’t live my life in fear of the next time. I sobbed. She left my room without giving me a hug.

I felt numb. My eyes were swollen. He was having a good day. He had taught. Gone to class. Shaved himself. He told me he’d had a breakdown but he’d felt better. He asked about me and I didn’t lie. I told him I’d been in bed all day, that I couldn’t move. I started throwing questions at him. I asked if he was lying to me, if he’d had a decision. I asked if he’d lied at all. I asked him how I should trust that he won’t change his mind on me again. I asked him what he thought of me. I asked him what will happen to us.

He told me he wasn’t lying. He told me he was still unsure. He said he’d never lied outside of this. He said he wants to be sure of his decision so he never has to be unsure again. He said he thought I was strong, resilient. He wanted me to be happy and healthy. He said he loved me more than the whole world. He wanted to keep me forever. He said that we can fix this.

For the first time, I felt like I was being honest with him, truly, fully. I said I didn’t know what would happen to us. I want to support him until the day I die. He went to sleep before he could reply.

Dad told me that I needed to advocate for myself, to not let people walk all over me. I had to get what I needed, not let people just tell me what I was going to do. You’re tired, he had said, get some sleep. Sleep came to me late, it was fleeting, and it almost made me more tired.

In the morning, Mom took me to the doctor. I filled out paperwork in a waiting room that was too big and smelled too clean. I was the first person there. Mom sat two seats away from me, like she was afraid my depression was contagious and didn’t want to catch it from me.

When it was my turn, I followed a woman to the back room and answered general questions about myself. Mom gave me a hug and left for work. Then a different woman in a different back room told me about my finances and insurance and all the things I didn’t understand. Finally, a social worker took me into a different back room and I told her everything.

I told her about my sleep and how I wasn’t getting any. I told her about my appetite and how I didn’t have one. I told her about how I had been feeling this way for seven years. The feeling never stopped for more than a few days. I was restless, had no motivation, no concentration, little to no hobbies. No passions. No, I wasn’t addicted to alcohol, but we shared a laugh over the concussion I got while I was drunk spring semester. I told her about him. She complimented the sticker on my water bottle from It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia. She asked me about my friends and my schoolwork. In the strangest way, I felt connected to this woman. It was like she was already my friend and neither of us had known it until now.

The full consultation took over an hour, with me spending the most time in the social worker’s office answering general questions about myself. Sometimes crying. The social worker strongly recommended counseling as well as medication. Medication. The word rang in my ear like a fire alarm. I told her I would think about it. She took down my name to pair me with a counselor. Told me to seek counseling at my university. She gave me a folder and sent me on my way.

The walk home felt like it happened in an instant. My phone buzzed with more messages from him that I decided to ignore until I got home. I felt the cool breeze on my face, I squinted into the mid-morning sun kissing my face. There were no clouds. The weather felt different at home. I passed by Walmart, where my good friend Zach worked. I craned my neck and peered into the parking lot, looking for his bright blue car in its usual parking space. I remember how in summer, we’d go and visit him at work at night when it was busy. Harass him while he was stocking juices or wheeling around big carts with boxes. Help him push shopping carts in the parking lot. I wished that he were working right there, his face was always friendly, always happy to see you, always giving hugs and smiling. He could pick up my mood any day. But on this day, he wasn’t there.

When I got home, I opened up his messages to a multitude of different things. He said that he was hurt to hear me say that I wasn’t sure if our relationship would last. He wants to be there for me always. The future is scary. He’s angry at the universe for making him feel like this.

I tell him I’m angry, too. Neither of us deserve this. We deserved a normal life. I tell him I can’t live in uncertainty for my entire life, never knowing when we’ll do this again. I didn’t know what would happen to us if he went on. I wanted to trust him but I couldn’t. I tell him my heart is broken because I love him so much, more than anything in the world. I wanted to be with him forever. I’m angry. I’m guilty. I tell him I wish he would tell me he hates me and wants me to die.

Everything is in a fog. I head upstairs. Lay down. Try not to cry. Instead, I sleep for three hours.

I woke up as I fell asleep, in a fog, dazed, disoriented.

Eight hours later, he replies. He says this makes him sad. He’s sorry that I’m so hurt. He says he likes who he is, but not who he is. He agrees that the universe played us in the wrong way. He urges me to trust him, to get all of my doubts out of my head and trust him. He is adamant that he will figure this out and that he will be sure and I should just trust him. He hopes he doesn’t have to change. He wishes he felt normal. He wishes that I didn’t feel like he should hate me.

I can tell he is pained by what I said. Blindly trusting him seems like the naive thing to do. I want to do it so, so badly. I’ve spent four whole years taking his hand and letting him show me the way to do whatever we would do. I know that ignoring feelings and misguided trust and going on our merry way is going to be the solution that makes me the happiest. But I know that it won’t be what makes him the happiest. And in the end, we’ll both suffer.

Dad takes me to eat. I get soup and bread. I eat it and feel like I ate a whole Thanksgiving dinner. I wish my eating habits could be normal again.

I tell him he needed to keep exploring his options. He agreed and said that other options put him at ease and took pressure off but he didn’t want to confuse people. I assured him that nobody needs an explanation. He agreed, and he agreed that he should do what he wants without owing anybody shit.

This seems like a good time to call him, so I do. We talk nothing of my day. We talk about him, how his day was. We don’t even get through talking about his whole day without getting sidetracked by other things. We’re laughing, talking about mutual friends, his roommate even jumps in to tell me a story that we both laugh about. He hangs up only when he’s outside of a concert that he has to go into.

For the first time in six whole days, the lump of anxiety and fear in my chest has gone away. I shower without crying. I talk to my mom and I feel emotion in my voice again. I breathe. Things seem like they’re looking up for some reason. I have no idea why.

He doesn’t answer me back for three and a half hours. When he does, I ask him more questions that I have. They’re about sex and his thoughts and feelings. His reply about sex isn’t surprising. His identity is. He thinks of his legs and nails, and his hair and clothes. I begin to feel dizzy again. I tell him to go to bed, but neither of us do.

He tells me he’s glad that he can talk about his feelings but he’s afraid of what I will think. I say I’m trying to be as honest with him as possible. This is hard, I say, because I’m trying to understand how he’s feeling and also reassure myself even though I know deep down that things will not be okay. He says they will be, they’ll just be hard for a while. I still can’t bring myself to blindly trust him.

I tell him what Mom said. I can tell he’s frustrated with me for telling her about our secret, and that I shouldn’t be sympathetic to her feelings, she doesn’t trust anybody. I’m torn. I tell him that I’ll try to trust him. Am I lying to him? I can’t tell.

His philosophy has always been to put feelings on the shelves, think later. Feel happy and forget your feelings. Blind optimism. I know that he is questioning if things will be okay between us too. But he will never say. He wants me to not question it too. He needs validation from me that things will be okay. But that validation is something that I can not give him right now. So he’s probably faking it.

I lift my head up from the pillow. I had been crying for a while. I know that I look absolutely terrible. My eyes are bloodshot. My face is blotchy and red. I look him dead in the face, my voice unwavering for the first time since this conversation began.

“So,” I say, my voice harsher than I intended. “Is this one of those times when it’s okay to lie to people to protect their feelings?”

His face doesn’t change. He swallows hard. “Yes.”

In the morning, I wake up and check his Reddit page for the millionth time. Today, there’s an update. Another comment on another post. That lump in my chest returns.

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automatismoateo · 8 years

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I (an atheist) just erupted at my very-Christian family over abortion and I don't know how to feel about it or where to talk about it so I'm posting here. The reason I exploded was because my daughter died 1 year ago and they keep posting this shit and I could not take it anymore. via /r/atheism

Submitted January 05, 2017 at 06:37AM by I_See_With_Sound (Via reddit http://ift.tt/2jcxEog) I (an atheist) just erupted at my very-Christian family over abortion and I don't know how to feel about it or where to talk about it so I'm posting here. The reason I exploded was because my daughter died 1 year ago and they keep posting this shit and I could not take it anymore.

So, some background. I have a 6 week old daughter now, but 1 year ago my wife and I watched as our first pregnancy ended with our daughter dying from Turner's Syndrome complicated by a cystic hygroma. She choked to death on her own lympathic fluid and then had her head explode like a water balloon (which I witnessed).

My family are ultra-right-wing Christians and they love to post their opinions all over social media, and they frequently rail about abortion despite knowing full well what my wife and I went through and that both of us wish we had aborted our daughter rather than waiting 6 months until she suffered and died.

I've never responded to their anti-abortion militancy, although my wife has a few times and she has literally begged them to have compassion for people in situations that they have not been through. Instead, they still feel the need to throw these very cruel, judgmental, and hurtful little videos and stories all over the place with no concern for anyone's feelings, just wanting to be holier-than-thou in every way possible. When my wife asked my sister to have some thought for parents put in a position where their child will suffer horrendously and die, my sister's exact response was "Well maybe suffering isn't a good enough excuse to kill a child." Still I kept myself in check, for family's sake...

Until my sister posted this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RDmwPGrZkYs

And I just lost my fucking mind. Like, I really lost it. If they had been in the house with me I'd have hit someone, I'm still shaking with rage. I cried from how hurtful it is to see shit like that.

But I also think I went too far, but I don't know. It breaks my heart to hate someone I love, but I swear every time someone posts something like this I lose my shit and I do hate them. My heart fills with so much hate every time someone tries to shove this garbage into my face. I don't think I have any less empathy or any more hatred for anyone on this planet than for the "prolife" movement. And I used to be one of them (which fills me with immense shame).

I have no idea how to think or feel about what I said or how this all went down, I'm still shaking, I'm still enraged. I'll include what I wrote. I'm not looking for affirmation for what I said, I just need people who can understand why I am so angry, and (yes) tell me I need therapy. But mostly I just need people who can understand my absolute, blinding-red rage. Because I could not be angrier than I am right now.

Ben's welcome to come tell the mother of a child with anencephaly that she must carry the baby to term until its brains melt out of its skull and flop onto the floor of a hospital in a pile of slop as the amniotic fluid spends nine months chewing away at its body while it is dissolved alive. Sure would be nice if the mother could choose to not put its child through that, oh well, not in Ben's world, fuck those women and their children I guess.

You know how many abortions happen in the third trimester in America every year? It's 100. That's it. And ALL of them are from severe abnormalities, chromosomal defects, and 100% fatally dead children. All of them. ALL of them. The same happy fun place I was in one year ago today.

You know what would have been nice? Not having my daughter's skull explode like an overripe melon in front of my eyes. That was a bit unpleasant. Sure could have done without that image until the day I died. OH WELL, at least Ben fucking Shapiro approves of my daughter's head exploding naturally and not from saving her from suffering until she died, so I can live with THAT comfort can't I?

And while that was a bad day, watching her choke to death on her own lymphatic fluids for six months was a bit harder to deal with. Just a wee fucking bit. Ending her suffering before she had a functional nervous system would have been the kind thing to do. I, selfishly, and cruelly, chose to pretend that she wasn't going to die and instead forced her to choke to death and die in agony. I wish I could do that over again, but not in Ben's world, nope, fuck me for wanting to not force my daughter to gag to death on her own plasma and piss. You know what I wonder whenever someone shoves this shit down my throat? How they would react watching their child suffer and die for six months? How the FUCK they would react watching their infant's head go POP and leak out on the hospital floor? It was oodles of fun, maybe I should've made a video so you could share in the joy.

Maybe people like Ben can tell me how they would deal with having a profession where it's your job to give this SAME NEWS to parents every day. That's my job. I go "HEY! my daughter's head exploded like an overripe melon and splattered the doctor in the face like a waterballoon, that's what you're in for! WHEEEE". Maybe Ben could then tell them they can't do anything but let the fetus suffer because Ben fucking Shapiro said they don't get to choose how their terminal child dies: in agony or instantly. Good thing Ben fucking Shapiro is the moral arbiter of the universe and the judge of other people's medical decisions.

Maybe someone can explain to me why it's better to force someone to birth a child with a cystic hygroma and no chance of survival? Anyone? Anyone care to tell me what a good boy I am for making my daughter's head pop like a melon? Or what about mothers with fetuses with iniencephaly? (Google images it). How about hydaditiform moles? (Google it) How about ectopic pregnancies? (Google it) How about trisomy 13? (Google it) How about Bowen Conradi Syndrome? (Google it) How about anencephaly? (Google it) How about Alobar Holoprosencephaly? (Google it) How about an acardiac/acephalic twin that has no heart or head and if you don't abort it they both die. Maybe Ben has a medically informed explanation for them? Or maybe an ounce of fucking empathy...? Oh, no, they're just stupid evil whores for not wanting to force their children to liquify in the womb. Of course. Ben's got it all figured out with his bachelor of arts in political science. I wonder if Ben could tell me what a single chromosomal abnormality is off the top of his head? What do you think the odds are...? I'm betting it's a touch low.

Maybe Ben would like to tell the mother of this child she didn't have a choice but to let it die in agony and pain in an inevitable death as its critically malformed brain turned to soup. What an evil bitch right? Good thing we have Ben to spit in her face and call her an evil whore for having a child with a chromosomal abnormality. She's obviously responsible for her own genetics, right? http://ift.tt/2j6FprU...

And maybe Ben can explain to me why 45% of all pregnancies end in dead fetuses and grieving parents? For every person on this planet there's one that didn't get past the womb because its guts were turned into a tumorous soup, or its brain never existed at all. Maybe Ben in his infinite medically-uniformed wisdom would like to take it up with his fucking god and not spit on people who WANT children and have to choose between instant death or 10 months of suffering and turning into fetal soup.

But I guess that'd require something a bit harder than telling grieving parents how evil they are.

#reddit

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