#taking care of the kid v. trying to make up for past wrongs

[owari-no-suffering]

Honestly as much as I was gasping by The Way Misaki Went Out, there was essentially no other way for this really to go. She was always going to go too soon because the reason she took Miri in was her ticking clock. When Misaki died, was Miri supposed to go stay with the grandfather, a man she's likely never met, or at least has no relationship with? Everything about Misaki coming back into Miri's life, while heartbreaking and sympathetic, was also shortsighted and selfish. A relationship made for the parent rather than for the child, like what's been shown with the certified Buddy Daddies. And it speaks volumes to at least the character writing, I think, that you can't really fault Misaki for what she does. I think the inevitable tragedy of it all makes it spicier.

Anyway. Foaming at the mouth thinking about how the fuck I'll cope next week ❤️.

[soggyriceee]

Helping Hand | dbf!Captain Price

summary: after your parents argue again, you walk over to your neighbors house who, you've had relations with in the past. true feelings are brought up be end in the most romantic way, loooooong back story but I feel like that makes the smut part of it so much better

warnings: dbf!Price, female!reader, age gap (reader 22, Price 45), unprotected P in V, fingering, daddy kink (bc hes daddy)

another restless night. your mom screaming at your dad for being at the bar late at night, him screaming back that he needed the break. "I work 60 hours a week!" he'd yell. "you are never home for dinner, barely make it to your kids important days!" she'd yell back, sometimes throwing a pan at him. it was bad. and you'd have to hear it every other night. your brothers drinking was no help either. family arguments were common, no matter how much you tried to avoid them. your mom would burst into your room, telling you to take her side, your father having the same idea.

"can you guys please stop I have exams tomorrow." you remember telling them, trying your hardest to focus on the notes in front of you. it was 12 in the morning. they were all supposed to be asleep. but of course, your dad stumbled in drunkly, waking up your mom and brother. it was peaceful in the house until it wasn't. thats why you'd often saunter over to your neighbor, John, to get some sleep.

"of course kid, you never have to ask." he always told you, smiling down as he opened the door wide. his wife was always delighted to have you over, she saw you as one of her own seeing as they never had kids. John was too busy with the military, kids was never truly an option for him. but he never saw you as his own, as his kid. he saw you as a woman. a woman who caught his eye the second she moved in next door two years ago.

your family had moved next door so it was closer to your college, but also to your fathers job. and Price and his wife were very quick to welcome you all into the neighborhood. they were the first people who invited you to their cookouts, parties. anything. your father had grown so close to Price, it was like they were brothers. and thats what made Price's feelings towards you even more conflicted and morally wrong. he knew he couldn't pursue you. he was significantly older than you, married and friends with your father. there were a surplus of negatives rather than positives and he was not willing to risk anything.

but when the summer time hit, and you'd slide into his pool, the pink or white bikini latching to your skin, he couldn't help but excuse himself up to his room and fuck into his fist, moaning your name into his hand. and what was the worst part about it all, he didnt care about what his wife would think. he cared what you'd think.

his marriage was falling apart quickly. his wife was very passionate about having kids, even though she was 40. "please, at least before im dried up for good." she'd beg him. but he wouldn't budge. kids was not something he wanted to have, ever. and because of that arguments were not a foreign thing for the two of them. so, it wasn't that you were young. or maybe it was. but it was because you would give him a new sense of life, a breath of fresh air away from arguments and constant stress.

the first night you had come to his home, tears falling from your cheeks, he was instantly worried. he pulled you into the house, pulling you into his chest. his wife came out quickly, gaping at your disheveled look. "oh my.. what happened my dear?" she ask, dropping the cup of tea in hand and running to hug you alongside John.

from that night on you made it routine to come sleep over in their house, whenever you needed. they even gave you a key. you felt more at home with them than you did at your home. they let you decorate the guest room into your own, took you out on small little events. it gave John's wife a sense of motherhood, one that she wanted for years.

so, when you and Price were in your room together, making out passionately, his hand gripping your boobs, your hands tangled in his hair, it didnt strike her as odd when she walked in to see you both on your bed. "she was having a hard time in school.. English test, right?" John said to her, quick to have an excuse. you nodded, swallowing hard. "y-yea I just.. needed to vent." you said, looking at her.

that was a month ago of course, she had believed you both. but that was the last time you and Price had ever really done anything of sorts again. and that was the last time you had been to their house. the feelings, tension between you both was too much and you both knew, that you wouldn't be able to make the right decisions if you both were alone together again.

but things were getting hard again and you needed to escape home. another family fight, this time about your father bringing up another woman's name during sex. it was disturbing, gross and uncomfortable for you to be around. but the screaming, breaking glass. it was not something you wanted to spend your summer night listening to.

looking out the window, you bit your bottom lip before making the final decision to sneak out and head over to your home. your real home. grabbing your phone, laptop and AirPods, you made your way out the window, landing on the mini roof in front of your window and slowly, climbing down to where the floor was. silently, you made your way across your lawn and over to Mr. Price's, looking at all the new flowers his wife had recently grown. a part of you felt guilt, selfish even for coming into their home, knowing what had happened between you and Price a few weeks ago. but you needed peace. you needed him.

knocking on the door, you crossed your arms behind your back, waiting anxiously for the door to open. a few seconds after, the door slowly opened, revealing a disheveled looking Price. his face was bright red, lips glossy. he had no shirt on, but a grey pair of sweats. a part of you felt embarrassed, but a bigger part of you felt a bit of pain, assuming he was just fucking his wife upstairs. "o-oh.. hey kid." he said, clearing his throat. " hi.. John. I guess this was a bad time but I-"

"no.. no its not." he said quickly, shaking his head. "I-i was just.." he pointed his thumb behind him, maintaining eye contact as he tried to find the words. you gave a small, apologetic smile before turning. but he was faster, gripping your wrist and pulling you back. " stay. please." he whispered, looking down at you, his eyes submissive. you swallowed before looking behind him, seeing an empty bottle of whiskey on the table. "isn't.. Mrs. Pri-" "she's not Mrs anymore.." he cut you off, looking away from you.

you felt guilty for bringing up the topic, even more guilty for thinking he was fucking her upstairs instead of you. his grip on you loosened and he backed away. "you don't have to stay.. but i'm assuming your here cause your parents. and you shouldn't.. be around that. you shouldn't be alone.. and I don't wanna be alone anymore either." he said, his words growing breathless towards the end, his eyes moving back to yours. your heart felt heavy for him. he was struggling for God knows how long alone. you gave him a small nod, his hand taking yours before he pulled you gently inside.

the door closed and you looked around the empty home, dishes and beer cans scattered about. "im sorry for the mess I uh.. its been hard to-" "let me help you." you turned to him, looking up at him. his doe eyes pierced into you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. that was all the confirmation you needed before turning back around, grabbing the empty cans and moving towards the kitchen recycling can. " thank you." you heard him say from the living room. "dont mention it. its a good distraction for me anyways." you said, the memory of your parents fighting coming back to you.

"hey.." he said, somehow coming up behind you. you quickly turned, wiping your eyes quickly and giving him a fake smile. his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs wiping the tears. " your here now.. safe." he whispered, keeping his eyes on yours. his lips trailed from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. " John.." you whispered, pulling your head out of his grasp. he cleared his throat, stepping back. you both wanted it, bad. but it was wrong. and you both agreed to it, nonverbally of course, but it was an intuition.

" im sorry." you said softly, looking down to your shoes. "dont apologize. you have done nothing wrong." he said, patting your arm before walking away.

|

the rest of the night you spent in 'your room', reading up the rest of the texts you had for your exams. it was raining pretty hard outside, thundering and lightening. it was peaceful, more peaceful than your home.

stretching, you sat up from your bed and made your way down to the kitchen, hungry. you were sure price was hungry as well so why not make some grilled cheese? as you hummed your way down the hall, you heard what sounded like cries coming from inside John's room. you stopped in your tracks, standing in front of his room. you then heard empty bottles rolling against the floor. sighing, you leaned your head against the door. you didnt know if you should open the door, or stay outside. or just walk away.

but your heart was more powerful than your mind and you couldnt stop your hand from knocking against the door. "John.. can I come in?" you asked softly. when he stopped sniffling, and all you could hear was the empty bottles, you slowly opened the door. in front of you was John, sitting against his wall, tears running down his face with another bottle of whiskey by his side. he wasn't moving, wasn't blinking. just crying.

you slowly approached him, sitting in front of him. you took the bottle, placing it under his bed, out of sight. " can i.. hold your hand?" you asked, looking at his blank face. when he gave you a soft hum, you reached for his hand, cupping it in both of yours. he felt his breathing go from fast to slow, his hooded eyes making his way to yours. "i'm here John.. you don't have to be alone anymore.." you said softly, scooting closer.

for the next hour John spent crying into your chest, apologizing for being drunk around you. " I-im sorry for.. for this. I know drunk p-people probably make you feel-" "stop. you have a valid reason. I understand. id actually prefer being around drunk you than my drunk father anyways.." you said, running your hands through his hair. he held your waist, sniffling every now and then. he was finally calm, finally at peace. he felt safe in your arms and despite how embarrassing it was to be the older person seeking out comfort from the younger, he knew the last thing you'd do was judge him.

"are you hungry?" you asked, realizing John had been playing with the hem of your shirt for a bit. he looked up, his eyes scanning your lips before meeting your gaze. a soft smile was painted across your face, your hands still in his hair. "im.. im sorry." he whispered. before you could ask him what he meant, his lips pressed against yours, his hand slipping around the side of your neck. he poked your lips with his tongue, asking for permission. and you embarrassingly fast let him in.

he shifted so he was sitting now, pulling you onto his lap. his tongue roamed your mouth, occasionally sucking your tongue and earning a moan from you. when he finally pulled away, a short string of saliva connected you two. heavy pants and the sound of rain was all that could be heard as you both stared at each other, waiting for whats next. just as you opened your mouth, he spoke.

"i.. I know you think its because im drunk. but I promise you.. ive wanted to do that for so long." he whispered, eyes going back to your wet lips. " I dream of it, even when she was here. I couldnt bring myself to not think about you when I kissed her. when I fucked her. when I laid beside her. I know I sound like a horrible person, and I know what im risking here saying this to you. but.. but I have a feeling you feel the same about me.." he said softly, his hands holding your hips in place, hoping and praying you wouldn't run away, never speaking to him again. but you wouldn't do that. because you cared about him too much. you wanted this to happen as much as he did and you weren't going to let this moment slip away.

your hands cupped his face before leaning in again, John accepting the kiss before your lips even met. it was a slow, passionate kiss. he pulled you closer into him, moaning into the kiss when you'd pull at his bottom lip. his hands slowly snaked up your shirt, now holding your waist. "I need you.." you breathed against his lips, eyes still closed. it was desperate of you. but you didn't care. seeing how badly he wanted you made you want him even more. you didn't care if she walked in and saw the two of you, told your parents, the whole neighborhood. you guys could run away, live in a different state, a different country even. you guys could be happy. and as much as you wanted that, you knew the right now, this was the best you'd get.

he slowly pulled you off his lap, standing up before lifting you up. he laid you gently on the bed, resting between your legs. his lips attached to yours again, his hand finding your covered breast immediately. your whimpered into the kiss, thrusting your hips up to feel his hard on. his other hand found the side of your face, holding it as to keep you close. his lips moved down to your jaw, then your neck. he was careful to not make too many marks, especially ones to high up. you whimpered at his teeth nibbling your skin, his tongue sliding slowly across the mark to ease the pain. " ive wanted this.. for so long." he Sid against your skin, his hands working to pull down the pajama pants you had put on a while back.

he threw them behind him, not caring where they end up. he sat up, looking down at your panties. a large wet spot shone threw, a breathy chuckle eliciting from him. "is this all for me baby?" he asked, his fingertips ghosting over the spot. you nodded quickly, bucking your hips up. " use your words darling." he said again, looking up at you this time, his fingers still ghosting over the same spot. "y-yes.. yes daddy." his face formed a bright smile before looking back down at your panties, fingers slipping under the hem and pulling them down. "daddy huh? dont think ive ever been called that." his fingers ran up your slit and stopping right before your clit. you groaned at the teasing, trying to move your hips to meet his fingers.

"patience baby.. daddy wants to take his time with you." he said, chuckling at your desperation. nothing was funny to you, but you wanted him do bad, you'd be willing to do anything he asked of you in this moment. his fingers continued to tease you until he slid one inside you for just a second, before quickly pulling it back out. he loved how fast your cunt clenched around his finger, the surprised gasp leaving your lips when he slid it in, then out. "you like that?" he whispered, watching how your pussy clenched every time his finger got close to your hold again. "yes please.. please do it again." you begged from beneath him, eyes pleading with his distracted ones.

he smiled to himself, adding two fingers in at once this time and watching them completely disappear. your head pressed firmly against the pillow, your eyes squeezing shut. he moved his fingers in and out slowly, then fast, analyzing which pace got you reacting to his touch more. when he found it, he continued with it, his eyes finally moving up to your face. your beautiful face. he felt like he had fallen in love all over, watching your face twist in pleasure. it scared him most certainly. he'd spent what felt like years and years in a somewhat loveless marriage. seeing you, your beautiful face, kind personality and hearing your beautiful voice made him scared. scared that if he did commit to you, you both would end up like his marriage.

but now, he couldnt worry about that. your moans and whimpers were too much of a distraction for him to think about anything serious. he wanted to focus on now, and thats what he did. "feel good baby? is daddy making this pussy feel good?" he asked above you, body completely hovering over you as he tilted his head to the side, looking down at you. you nodded, opening your eyes and gripping his shoulders. "s-so good~" you whined, nodding your head quickly. " good girl. such a good girl for me aren't you? gonna cum on daddy fingers huh? gonna show daddy how good you feel?" he asked, his thumb quick to find your clit and moving at the same pace your fingers were.

no matter how hard you tried to talk, his fingers were doing magic on your lower region. you felt a knot forming at the pit of your stomach, your moans increasing in pitch. " I-im gonna cum" you cried out, pulling him down into your chest and hugging his shoulders. he grunted in your ear, keeping the same continuous pace, whispering how beautiful you were, how hes gonna claim your pussy. how hes gonna gonna make love to you, rather than just fuck you. his genuine words, surprisingly, made you finish, your cum soaking both him and his bed sheets. he gasped, peeking down at your cunt as his fingers slowed in pace, listening to the squelching noises your pussy made for him.

he sat up, looking down at the mess beneath you both. he hadn't realized it, but his fingers kept moving in and out of you. it was like he was in a spell, a spell from your pussy. " j-john" you finally called out, getting his attention. he smiled and slid his fingers out, sliding them in his mouth. he hummed around them, causing you to hide your face in your hands. he was quick, however, to remove them. "dont hide from me. I want you to see how good you taste." he said before pressing his lips back onto yours. your own taste flooded your mouth, your hands tangling back into his hair.

at the same time, he began to pull his sweats down, his dick springing free, slapping against his lower stomach. the sound made you pull away and look down. to say you were nervous was an understatement. but he was quick to shut down any worries you had. "im gonna go slow with you.. I promise." he said, lifting your head. he gave another small smile down at you, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and smiling. it almost slipped from him, but he held back the ' I love you' as he watched you lean into him. his heart was fluttering and he felt like crying all over. happy tears though. because he was truly in love, an the knew that after this, you'd have to go back home. pretend like what happened never happened. at least in front of people. but he didnt want that. he wanted to show the world you were his and he was yours.

he was so deep in thought again, you had wrapped your legs around him to get his attention. "s-sorry. your just so beautiful" he smiled, kissing your forehead before standing from the bed, pulling his sweats and boxers off completely. he was quick to slide back between your legs, his tip hitting your soaked pussy. he looked down, grabbing the base and moving it around your cunt. "shit your fucking drenched honey." he whispered, watching as strings of your wetness rose from you as he lifted his dick away. you whimpered in embarrassment, a bright pink covering your cheeks.

"its sexy." he said, looking into your eyes. he swallowed before looking back down. "like I said, I wanna make love to you. I don't want this to be just us fucking. i.. I see you more than that." he said, his eyes wandering your body nervously before meeting your gaze. you smiled up at him, pulling him closer so your foreheads touched. " then make love to me John." you whispered, looking at him through your lashes.

his lips pressed onto yours, his hands holding onto your hands as he slowly, and carefully, slid into you. it was easy, considering your slick. but it still hurt, the stretching of your walls around his thickness. the moment you let out a pained whimper he stopped, telling you to tell him when you were ready for more. and it did take a while, but he eventually bottomed out inside your cunt, groaning at the warmth and wetness. his head fell into your neck, catching his breath before he tapped your hips. "are you ready for me love?" he asked into your neck, lifting his head to see your face when you answered. when you nodded, giving him a shy 'yes', his hips moved out, slow, and back in, slow.

at first it hurt. yes, you had small flings in college, and you had definitely told him about them before you figured out how in love with him you were. but never had they meant a lot to you. you are drunk for most of them, causing you to regret not waiting for the right guy which, in this case, would be John. you looked up at him, his bottom lip between his teeth as his browns knitted together. he let out soft grunts with every thrust, a breath after a few more. he looked beautiful, so handsome.

" darling s-stop looking up at me before i.. I finish too soon." he breathed out, looking into your eyes finally. you blushed and looked down to where your bodies connected. the sight alone made you clench around him, a whimper slipping past you. your hands found his neck, your eyes squeezing shut. his thrusts remained pretty slow, causing you to buck your hips up. "faster.. please." you whispered, opening your eyes to see his already on you. "anything for my princess." he responded, kissing your forehead as his thrusts picked up in pace. he wasn't going super fast, but he was going at a decent speed.

whimpers slipped past you with each thrust of his, your head falling back into the pillow. his name, and a few daddy's, slipped past your lips every so often, encouraging him to keep going. " f-fuck princess you're.. you're so tight" he groaned, his breathing picking up in pace. his grunts slowly turned into moans and you had assumed he was close. he took one leg and wrapped it around his waist, allowing deeper access into your cunt. his tip every so slightly hit your cervix, emitting more moans from you.

you hadn't realized it at first, but your nails dug into his back, leaving both crescent marks and scratches. and he fucking loved it. it was your way of marking his body, what was yours. he wanted more. " fuck baby.. mark me. I-im all yours~" he moaned, his head dropping into your chest as his thrusts began to become a bit more fast. he was certainly close, and you were too. " John im gonna cum" you moaned, leg tightening around his waist.

his breathing grew rapid, his head raising to look down at you with hooded eyes. his hands gripped the side of your neck, his other around your hip. he felt his dick pulse inside you, scared of cumming inside you, but also hoping you'd let him. "inside me.. please" you whimpered out, sensing his worry. he gave out a quiet whimper, his eyes squeezing shut.

it was perfect, your bodied moving together. and what made it even more perfect was the fact you both were going to cum, together. it was beyond romantic and made the feelings between you both even stronger. he opened his eyes, feeling as though he couldnt hold back any longer. he didnt know what had came over him, if it was your pussy, the alcohol, or just his emotions, but he couldnt stop the words from flowing out.

" fuck princess I-im cumming- fuck I love you.. oh I fucking..love. you!" he groaned, the last few words accompanied with a powerful thrust. his cum shot into you, a loud groan and a gasp escaping him. his grip on you tightened, his eyes watching as your cum shot out of you as well, mixing with his.

his eyes fluttered closed, his body falling onto you. you looked up at the ceiling, breathing hard as you just recalled what he had admitted to you. 'he loves me..?' you though, your chest feeling heavy, but a good heavy.

he eventually rose up, swallowing as he looked down at you. "I-im sorry im probably still drunk I didnt mean-" your lips slammed against his, discontinuing the sentence he had planned. " I love you to John." you said against his lips. you felt the smile spread across his lips as he moved back down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him.

the rest of the night you both spent cuddling, watching tiktoks on your phone. when you eventually dozed off, he placed your phone on the charger, went to use the bathroom one last time before coming back next to you. he pulled you into his chest, spooning you. he kissed your bare shoulders, whispering 'I love you' after each peck. he was happy. he didnt worry too badly about what could happen. he was happy now. and he wanted to stay that way forever.

| aghhh after serious writers block I give you guys this. this was a lot more cute than my other ones so I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did |

[rayassecretlife]

REQUEST: Could we get a sub Lo’ak? The context could be that the reader saw him talking to another girl and got jealous. So you decide to punish him with overstimulation etc.

Guys i literally made a whole thing for this request and it posted on accident…so anon, I hope you see this because it won’t let me reuse the same request💔

I love you times infinity

Pairing: Aged up!19 year old Lo’ak Sully x Fem!Metkayina!Reader

Warning(s): Smutttt (MINORS DNI), male receiving, unprotected p in v, begging, praise kink, overstimulation, mature language, Lo’ak and reader are 19!!

Not proof read!!! Sorry for mistakes

As you sat slack jawed against the large tree, you couldn’t help but watch your mate from afar, watching him and his father practice riding with Tonowari to prepare him for his soon to be rite of passage. You were beyond excited for him, but lately it felt like he didn’t care for your efforts in congratulating him.

You had barely spoken to your mate in days, only seeing him when he comes into your pod to grab something and then when he comes back at night, but he only ever went straight to sleep. Was he getting tired of you? No. Mate’s don’t get tired of each other, right? Your thoughts only ran wilder as you heard a voice peek next to you, calling your name with a whistle.

“Y/N?” You look over at Kiri walking towards you, eyes tracing yours to see what you had been staring at but it only confused her more. “What’s wrong?” You shake it off as she sinks down to sit next to you, hand grasping your wrist in her palm.

“It’s nothing, I promise” she rolls her eyes and let’s go, turning to watch the boy with you. “He’s so happy like that—feeling like a leader” Your toes dig into the sand, head laying back against the tree as she looks back to you. “Can mates leave each other? Like unbond…?” The girl looks at you with a laugh and shakes her head, rubbing her face as it all started to make sense to her.

“That’s what your worried about? Y/N, Lo’ak is in love with you. You are to be Tsahìk not too long from now” She informs but you already know, nodding your head at her words. You still felt your stomach turn, looking over at her.

“He hasn’t been talking to me the past few days, but he’s been with Tsireya every time I see him. He barely gives me a hug when he sees me in public, Kiri. We were great a week ago but now it’s so weird” she frowned at your words but quickly shook her head, debunking your suspicions.

“Have you told him you felt this way?” You shook your head and she stared at you, eyebrows raised at you. “Maybe he’s just busy training. You know how much this means to him-“

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” Kiri’s eyebrows furrowed at your words as she turned her head, tracking down the area you had been looking in. Her eyes widened at the sight but before she could speak you were already a cursing mess. “Is he serious? He doesn’t have time for me but he does for her?”

“Y/N-“

“Fucking Skxawng” You scoffed before getting up, his eyes catching onto you as you left the beach. Kiri sat there dumbfounded, trying her best to call you back over but you wouldn’t listen—blinded by your jealousy and rage.

That had only been hours ago, spending your time crying and breaking random things in your pod while you waited for him to come home—somewhat hoping he didn’t. You were so beyond angry, trying to fall asleep so you would stop crying. Did he even love you? How could he do this to you? The thoughts swarmed your mind as you lay in your hammock, eyes closed and the sound of the waves under you filling the air. You wondered what the excuse would be this time—but your questions were quickly answered with the familiar voice coming to see you.

“Y/N, Y/N! Tonowari said I’m ready to take my rite of passage!” You heard your mates voice call from the other side of the room, his happy and energetic voice soon declining at the sight of you laying in your shared hammock, pretending you had been sleeping so he wouldn’t speak to you. “Y/N?”

You were still so angry with him. You hated your jealousy problem with a passion but you couldn’t help it, he was your mate. You felt the hammock dip and soon felt his warm body against yours, his hand laying over you to pull your back against his stomach.

“Y/N, wake up, baby—we’ve got to celebrate” he whispers in your ear and in that moment you wanted to scream at him, just push him off the hammock with the anger you had pent up inside you. It wasn’t until you felt the small kisses plant against your shoulder that you spoke up.

“Leave me alone, Lo’ak” you move away from him without explaining, his eyebrows creasing at your words. You sounded mad, so fucking mad. The hammock felt so empty without you against him. He hated it.

“What’s wrong? I’ve missed you” you scoff, shrugging his hand off your shoulder making him frown. He didn’t understand, what could he have done to make you so upset? “Y/N, talk to me” He practically begged as you got up from the hammock, making your way out of your shared pod before he could say anything else.

You didn’t know whether to yell or cry. On one hand you were jealous, but on the other you felt like maybe he didn’t want you as bad as you thought he did, and maybe you weren’t enough. You didn’t want to cry, so you did the next best thing.

Retaliate.

You turned around to find the boy standing so tirelessly, his eyes low with plead as he stared at you. You hated when you were mad at him—he needed you happy. Before he could say anything, you pushed him inside your pod once again, leading him all the way to sit on the big loom made chair that sat in the corner of your home.

He looked at you with pure confusion, still waiting to talk to you about what had just happened but you were quick to shut him up, placing your hand over his loincloth to feel what had been under it. “Y/N, tell me what’s wrong-“

“You think she’s prettier then me, don’t you?” his eyebrows furrow even more in confusion then before, eyes almost instantly shutting when he felt your hand close around his cloth covered cock. “Think she’s so fucking beautiful you’d rather speak with her then your own mate”

“Baby—just wait, I—what are you talking about?” He grabs your hand, his free hand cupping your cheek. “Have you been crying?” You scoff, pulling his hand from your face.

“Tell me, what does Tsireya have that I don’t? Is it because she is older? That’s it, isn’t it? She’s older and prettier?” He stared at you like you had a million heads, trying his hardest to find the reason you thought this way. It was hard for him to believe you actually thought someone was prettier then you, because he’d remind you every single day that you were the most beautiful girl on pandora.

Then it clicked, all the events from the past week come clashing down and he feels nothing but guilt. He left you most nights, staying out to train and do whatever he had to do—but he didn’t think you’d be waiting since you knew he was training. He saw the anger in your eyes but his softened, head shaking at your words.

“Y/N, you don’t actually think I like Tsireya, do you?” You shrug your shoulder, index finger dragging across his body; from one shoulder to another. You were angry, you wanted him to feel how you did when he was gone—ignoring your every move. “We need to talk first-“

“Shhh” You shush the boy, placing your hands on his shoulders and squeezing gently. “Calm down, your tense, Lo” you feel his body relax and you gently lean over him, face yearning to his but as soon as your lips brushed, you moved down to his ear. “Move your hand” He hesitantly removes it, watching you with patience as you move to stand up in front of him, pulling your hair down from the tie it had been in before.

You knew what your hair down did to him, you could feel his eyes scanning your body. “You know, last night I had to please myself because you weren’t here” You hum, fingers working to untie his loincloth. “Because you were with her”

“Y/N-“

“Maybe I need to remind you of your place” you didn’t look at him, only pulling his loincloth from his waist to throw somewhere random across the room. “You wanna make it up to me?” He nods his head almost desperately, watching as you took his length in your small hands. “Then be a good boy and spread your legs” This surprised him, you’d never been the type to act the way you were now, But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

He watched as you sunk to your knees in front of him, hand stroking his length against your palm. He was becoming so hard just looking at you, watching how your long hair flowed around everytime you moved your head. Lo’ak was known to cum quickly with you, or at least get very, very close. You knew this would be easy, and that’s why you needed to work extra slow.

“Can she get you like this? This fucking hard? This vulnerable…” You trail off, looking up at your mate’s twisting face. His nails dug into the chairs fabric, head tilting back the slightest. “This is mine. You, are mine, Lo’ak” He lets out a deep sigh and nods his head, eyes shutting with ease as his ears fell back against his head. “Say it”

“It’s yours…” You roll your eyes and sit up, hand wrapping around his neck to bring his face close to your own. He gasped at the sudden action, opening his eyes to look at yours.

“You can do better then that” Shit, you looked so good like this; all angry and jealous under him. He could moan just looking at you. “Do it or I’ll stop”

“I’m yours, Y/N. God, you know I’m yours—only yours” you raise an eyebrow and his ears fall again, “I only want you. I don’t want Tsireya or anyone else” you let go of his neck, sinking back down to your knees with one glance at his cock. You smirked at the sight, the small amounts of pre already seeping through his tip.

“Dripping already? And you talk about me” You laugh, thumb wiping across his light blue tip. “Look at me, Lo’ak” He sighs, finally opening his eyes to you and you smiled, head leaning down toward his length.

“Fuck” He mumbles as you guide your tongue to draw a line up his cock, watching your every move like his life depended on it. His hands moved to your hair but you quickly push them, giving him a scolded face.

“Hands to yourself, this isn’t a reward” really? Cause it sure as hell felt like one. He nods his head and places his hands onto his thighs, your head lowering back down to swirl your tongue around his tip. You felt his legs twitch as a small breath escaped his lips, eyes threatening to shut.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Y/N” You smirk at his words, your other hand reaching down to take his balls into your palm, his eyes almost instantly rolling back. “Fuck, fuck” Yup. That was his weak spot. He lost it when your tongue swirled a bigger circle against him, fingers digging into his skin trying his hardest not to grab onto you.

“Come on, Sweet boy. Don’t hold those sounds from me” He may have been enjoying himself now, but he wouldn’t be soon. He’d be begging for you in just a few minutes.

“Feels so good, baby. S’good” Your hand starts to stroke his length at a pace, other hand still working at the lower half. He was a moaning mess above you, practically losing himself in your touch. Your tongue was doing it usual motions but you soon retracted it, realizing how close he had been.

“Don’t do it, I didn’t tell you to come” He whimpers and your ears peek at the sweet sound, hand edging him further as you stared up into his vibrant amber eyes. You wanted to teach him a lesson and you were going to—but the sight of him like this made you so wet, yearning for the friction between you two.

You stood to your feet only for a second before straddling his lap on the chair, tugging his hair back so his head would face directly to you. “Put it in” He doesn’t waste a second before he’s lining himself up to your wet cunt, hands going to push you down but you wouldn’t let him. “Hands to yourself now”

“Y/N… I can’t” He whispers as you sink down onto him, both of you letting out a shaky breath. He was barely holding on, waiting for your word to let go. It was pure torture to say the least, he couldn’t even touch you. “S’tight… so fucking tight” your head falls back as you grind against him, hand resting against his chest for support. You were mad at him, but man did you miss this the past few nights.

“That’s it, hold it for me” You praise your desperate mate, a moan slipping from your own throat before you could catch it. You felt his cock nudge your cervix easily, legs trembling against his own at the deep feeling. “She can’t do this to you, can she? Nobody can. Nobody but me”

“I can’t hold it anymore—please… please, Y/N” He opens his eyes to peek at you, gaze falling between the two of you where your hips met his. He truly couldn’t hold it much longer, his cock painfully hard inside of you.

“Louder” He whines at your words and throws his head back as your hips move faster, now chasing your own release. “Good boy, Such a good boy” you praise, feeling the knot in your stomach become terribly noticeable.

“Please, please let me come” He whimpers once again, now begging you over and over with his small grunts and curses. He needs to come, he needs to feel you come. “You know I don’t want her, I only want you—only want to please you”

He mewls as you clench around him, feeling your release just seconds away from bursting. You couldn’t help but moan, nails digging into his chest. “Don’t you dare” You warn him, feeling his cock start to twitch harder then before, your hips continuously rolling against his and he lets out a loud moan soon enough, your cunt squeezing him tight as you let your highs fall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He cries, hands gripping your thighs out of reflex. You were too caught in your own release to realize, his thick seed painting your gummy walls white like always but once you realized, you pulled his hands from you, continuing to roll your hips against his own in anger. “Y/N—I can’t… fuck, too much!”

You sit up above him, feeling his length fall from your core. He was still hard, only making it easier for you when your hand wrapped around it once again. “I thought I told you no? That was bad, Lo. Coming without permission” You murmur softly, still sitting on his thighs as your free hand pulled his braids.

“I couldn’t hold it! I-“

“I don’t fucking care” You look directly into his eyes, hand stroking his hardening cock faster as you felt his thighs shake. “Your gonna forget her fucking name when I’m done with you—gonna know where home is” He whimpers loudly, ears flickering up and down at the feeling. He was so sensitive, cock coated in his recent release along with the new beads of pre that escaped his tip.

“Please—mmph! Baby, please it’s too much! Too sensitive!” He tries to pry you off but you only push him away, tugging on his braids tighter so he’d release you. It hurt so good, pushing him way past his limits. You couldn’t get enough of it—seeing him like this under you, fully under your control. “Touch me… please just touch somewhere—anywhere!”

“You can take it, Baby. Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me? So sensitive…your gonna come again, aren’t you?” He’s a whimpering mess at your dirty talk, nodding his head desperately. You lean down to him, trailing kisses against his jawline as he continued to beg you, hips bucking at your every stroke. He couldn’t keep still, not when you were this close to him. “Sweet boy, this is what happens when you make me jealous”

“I’m sorry, My love. Shit… I’m so sorry” He manages to choke out from his moans, a smirk appearing across your lips as you watch him in awe. “Please let me come. Please, please…!” You hum, taking his ear lobe between your teeth, gently pulling on it with a chuckle. As fun as it was to watch him suffer, he always got his way with you—even when you were mad.

“Come for me, Pretty boy. Make sure you say my name real loud so she can hear” He lets out a loud moan as your lips attach to the sweet spot under his ear, practically crying out as he felt his release approach fast.

“Need to hold onto you… please” You nod your head as almost as soon as you do, his fingers are digging into your hips, his legs shaking with post release as his next one teased his tip. He was struggling so hard, yearning his body against your own. “Y/N…!”

“Mhm, just like that” With one last stroke, his second release is painting your hand and his chest, spurting out onto the two of you with no certain direction. He was breathless, whimpering against your ear as you released his sensitive cock, letting it fall against his abdomen. “Poor baby, did so good for me” You hold his heavy head in your hands, stroking his cheek with your thumb as his heavy breath started to calm down.

You sat there for about ten minutes in silence, your soft voice in his ear putting him at ease with every word. You couldn’t do anything but comfort the shaking boy, his body completely giving itself to you. He was tired, trying his hardest to stay awake just to listen to your sweet sound. “You ready to lay down?”

You remove yourself from his grasp slowly, going over to the water to wet one of the clean cloth’s that sat in your pod. He watched you tiredly, your eyes soft as you walked back to him.

He jolted up once you touched his abdomen, about to push you away but quickly realizing what you had been doing. “Gotta clean this up. We don’t want anyone knowing what we did here” You smirk to yourself as he sighs and lays back against the chair, letting you wipe his still semi-warm release off his body.

“You are insane” He says breathlessly and you laugh, throwing the cloth away before coming back to take his hand, helping him stand to his feet. “That was fucking insane” You hum, tying his loincloth back around his waist. He took it soon himself to lay down against your hammock before you, holding his arms out to you with a tired smile. “I don’t even know who you are anymore” You giggle at his words, falling onto the hammock to lay down next to him. His body was still radiating with heat, legs also somewhat remaining at their shaky state.

“Should’ve never made me jealous, Skxawng” you cuddle into his arms, head laying in the crook of his neck. He let out a soft chuckle and rubbed the small of your back, placing a kiss atop of your head.

“I don’t know, I kind of like it” You roll your eyes and dismiss him, sighing as you felt him relax into you. “I love you times infinity, Y/N” He intertwined your fingers, kissing your knuckles. His words made your ears perk, a smile spreading across your lips against his neck.

“I love you too, Lo’ak. More then you’ll ever know” With that, you fell asleep in each others arms—not a care in the world about what was to come tomorrow or who he had talked to before. You knew he was yours—and you were his, until the end of time.

If you enjoyed this, make sure to check out my MASTERLIST 💙

I feel like this sucks but ummmm…. If you want to be added to the tag list for every writing let me know!! The only reason I’m not tagging anyone in this is bc I didn’t know if they just wanted to read the neteyam fics or not. This was a little out of my comfort zone and not proof read so it might be a little out of order 💀.

[thewulf]

I Want To || Darrel "Darry" Curtis

Summary: Request - Can you do a Darry Curtis x Female Reader where she's pony's bestfriend bc they live in houses really close (greasers and all). She's always had eyes for Darry and he her but bc she was so much younger... Read Rest Here

A/N: For the sake of the story I made reader the same age as Soda (16 going on 17) BUT still Pony’s best friend because Soda is also Pony’s bestie. They’re all a buncha besties (including Johnny!!). Reader is v soft lol. Thank you for the request as always! Hope you like it :)

Pairing: Darrel "Darry" Curtis x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.7k +

TW: crying, shaking, panic attacks, angsty

Shivers racked down your spine as you realized the Soc boys were actually following you. You’d had a sneaking suspicion they were following you after your friends peeled away to their respective houses on their walks home. But you’d all but confirmed it when you purposefully took the wrong street to see if they were in fact following you. They were.

Peaking over your shoulder you shuddered seeing the Soc boys car creeping along behind you. They wouldn’t jump a girl would they? You didn’t think they would, but then again, ever since Pony up and disappeared not too long ago leaving one of them dead, Bob Sheldon, things had changed. They stopped playing by the unwritten rules between groups after Johnny apparently stabbed him, killing him.

Where was Dallas when you needed him to walk you home? It truly was the first time you had been alone since Ponyboy, and Johnny vanished four days ago. Soda made sure to walk you to school. Dally or Two-Bit picked you up. They weren’t taking an eye off you, no. Not after the comments Steve and Soda heard at the gas station from other random kids about the Soc’s revenge. Randy had a plan, and you were a part of it.

You continued walking trying your best to come up with a strategy. It was the damn blue mustang which meant you really had to figure this one out. Randy was following you. Bob was Randy’s best friend and if he was as crazy as you thought he was he might just try and kill you in retaliation for his own friends death. You wouldn’t put it past the man who thought he was above all else.

Without so much as a second thought you booked it across lawns, making sure to take every way but the road hoping to lose the creeping Soc’s. You didn’t have time for tears now, no. You had to get to the Curtis household. One of them would be home. If not one of them then surely Dally, Two-Bit or Steve was there. Somebody had to be there. It was home away from home, there was always a random boy there.

Fortunately for you, you knew the area a little bit better than Randy and whatever fool was in his passenger seat did. You full out sprinted towards the Curtis residence when you finally made it their street. You flew past your house knowing nobody was home to make sure they wouldn’t actually kill you.

You heard the tire screech of the blue mustang gun it as you made it towards the unassuming house just a few roads down from yours. You flew through the front door gasping for breaths before slamming the front door closed, locking everything you could in your field of vision.

“Darry! Soda!” You called out between heaving breaths and throwing your backpack on the ground in front of the door like it’d stop them if they came barging through. They wouldn’t though. They knew better than to fuck with the Curtis household. Darrel was a lot of things, but he’d never take getting attacked in his own home.

“Jesus Christ kid. You about knocked the damn door off it’s hinges!” Darry’s booming voice bellowed from the kitchen before he saw your shaking frame hiding away from the front door. He stepped closer before much more calmly asking, “Hey, what’s the matter Bubs?” It was rare for him to call you that let alone with that caring voice. It’s like he knew how frustratingly attractive you found him. But no, nothing could happen. You were his kid brothers best friend. Off limits or some stupid shit like that.

You just pointed towards the door shaking your head, “Randy.” He caught just how shaky you were. You must’ve been terrified he’d concluded. He wished Soda was home so he could comfort you. He prayed for Pony’s return, but he just knew it’d be a while before he saw that kid once again. But he knew. He knew Ponyboy would come home. He couldn’t leave his brothers. He couldn’t leave you.

He looked towards the front lawn through the windows before turning back to you and grumbling a quick, “Stay here.” He was out the front door faster than you could protest. You paced back and forth through the living room into the kitchen and back. You were nervous. Nervous for him. Nervous for Pony and Johnny. Nervous about it all.

He walked back through the door before shutting it, “They’re gone kid.”

You frowned at the nickname. It was like he was mocking you. You knew it was exactly right having a big old crush on your friends older brother. Your own friend. The man who grew up faster than he wanted too to help Soda, Ponyboy and you have somewhat of a normal childhood. The man you had admired for a long, long time. The woman he chose to marry would be one hell of a lucky lady you had concluded. The man loved harder than anybody you had known. He cared so deeply for those around him. He pushed people hard because he knew he could get the best out of them. He wanted more for you guys than he ever had a chance at. His life was decided for him fairly quickly once his parents had passed. He wouldn’t have changed it other than them staying alive.

You placed your hands behind your back to hide their shakiness, “Thanks for checking Darry.”

“You ‘lright?” He walked towards you giving you a once

“I’m fine.” You hummed looking at the ground instead of him.

“You’re shaking bubs.” He noticed. Because he always did. He noticed everything. There was nothing you could realistically hide from him.

You straightened under his gaze, “Adrenaline or whatever. I’m still trying to catch my breath. You know I don’t run by choice Darry.”

His eyes scoured over your body once more before smiling at you poking fun at yourself, “Alright. If you say so. Why were you walking home alone anyway? You heard Soda and Steve. It’s dangerous.” His tone tightened up after he knew you were okay. That was one of the things you had grown to adore about the man.

You smiled knowing that was much more like him, snapping at you for being so thoughtless, “I waited! Nobody showed up.” You tried defending yourself, but you should’ve known Darry wasn’t going to lose this argument.

“You could’ve called. I would’ve gotten you.” His eyes burned into yours as you had to look up to meet his stare. You certainly didn’t feel like his kid brothers best friend in that moment. You felt seen. So seen by the man you held so dearly in your heart. How were you supposed to go on dates with other greasers when they were such knuckleheads compared to the man you had grown to love and adore? It was pointless and a big waste of your time.

“I thought you were at work. Can you blame me? You’re always there.”

He rolled his eyes, “Soda would’ve came.”

“He’s working Darry!” You countered with amusement in your voice.

But he wasn’t amused. Not by your terrified glance towards the door. Not by the shaking that still had yet to subside. But he cooled it knowing the reason he lost Pony was because he blew up at him. He couldn’t do that to you too, “Look, kid. I promise I’m not yelling at you. I just need you to be careful. Randy’s out there looking for revenge. And I really can’t stand the thought of him putting a hand on you. So please, for our sake just be more careful. I can’t protect Pony right now, but I can you. Let me.”

You nodded up at him, “I can do that.”

His eyes looked from yours back down to your trembling frame, “You’re still shaking bubs.”

With the look that he was giving you it felt like you were going to confess all your feelings right then and there. Thank goodness you didn’t. Even though you had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly how you felt about him.

“I can’t stop.” You admitted knowing a lie would be too obvious at this point.

He walked over and grabbed a blanket from the couch, “Come here

You shook your head, “You don’t have to Dar. This is enough.”

He ignored you, instead ducking into the kitchen, “I want to. Coffee or tea?” He asked you once more.

“Tea would be great.” You answered him knowing he was going to make one or the other if you didn’t answer. It was his style, his love language. He wanted to take care of those he loved and you fell right into it.

“A little milk and sugar. Just how you like it.” He smiled setting the mug down in front of you on the coffee table.

You looked at the tea, then to him and then back to the tea with a flush coating your cheeks. You sure weren’t doing a good job hiding those feelings, “Thanks Darry.”

He took a seat on the couch next to you, “You got it, bubs.”

You grinned looking over to him, “Haven’t heard you call me that in years.”

He huffed looking away from you, “It fits.”

“I’ll take it.” You grabbed for the tea letting it warm your hands before taking a sip, “It’s better than being called kid.”

He looked over to you, “You are just a kid.”

“I’m almost seventeen, Darry. Momma’s already talking about sending me off to college.” You laughed at the ridiculous thought, “Like we have the money for that. I’m sure I’ll end up at the grocery store or gas station.”

He shook his head so fast you would’ve missed it if you weren’t already looking at him, “You’re meant for so much more. I’ll tell you what, since you’re almost seventeen or whatever I’ll stop calling you kid if you let me call you bubs.”

You smiled at the sweet sentiment, “I don’t think so Darry. I think I’m right where I’m meant to be. You know, not everybody wants to run away from this life. I wish I could take this burden from you Darry. But I can’t. I’m also not going to pretend I hate this life because I don’t. And I’ll take it. Bubs it is.”

He looked down feeling it all hit him at once, “You ain’t a burden. None of you are. I just want you guys to have a choice. I didn’t.”

You took a long pause not sure if you wanted to say it. But there was a reason Ponyboy had run away with Johnny. Maybe he needed to know, “Sometimes it feels like it.”

You heard him suck in a breath surely not expecting this conversation to go on between the two of you tonight, “’m sorry bubs. So sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You wanted him to look at you. He was so freaking handsome and God all you wanted him to do was look right at you. You wanted to reassure him. He was a good older brother. He was doing the right things even if he couldn’t properly express them to his kid brothers. He loved and he cared even if they couldn’t see it. You knew he felt like he was failing but he wasn’t. Ponyboy was just learning and growing.

He shook his head, “I don’t think you ever get mad.”

You laughed this time, “I get mad at Pony and Soda all the time. I just don’t get mad at you.” You shrugged setting down the tea knowing you had opened the conversation wide open now.

He gave you a curious glance as he studied your still trembling hands. You were doing a good job at hiding it, but he noticed, “Is that so?”

You grinned, “I guess it’s your old wiseness. How could I get mad at that?”

“Hey smartass. You want dinner?”

You laughed feeling like the weight had finally been lifted off your shoulders, “There’s the Darry I know.”

He scooted closer to you sensing something was off with you. It wasn’t like him to press but something told him he needed to, “I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you alright?” It wasn’t lost on you that he was looking at your fidgety form under the oversized blanket that framed you. How could you lie to him?

“I’m scared Darry.” Your voice wavered as you tried your hardest to keep the welling tears unshed, “I’m scared for Ponyboy. For Johnny. I’m so scared they’ll never make it home.” And the thought of it made you spill those tears right in front of his oldest brother. You thanked whatever lucky stars you had that Sodapop wasn’t home. You could only take this humiliation in front of one brother.

Without so much of a second thought he pulled you right into his arms. Which meant you were sitting right in his lap. He pushed your head down into the crook oh his neck while he let his hands run up and down your back. He felt your cries before he heard you. You were fighting with all your might not to break down in front of him but his softness towards you was making it all the harder.

“Shh, It’ll be alright sweet girl.” You felt him give you a gentle squeeze, pulling you closer into his chest before he continued, “You really think Ponyboy won’t come home to us? To you? That kid is so lost without you. He’ll be back. I can’t promise you much, but I can promise you that.” He rocked you back and forth in his arms in complete silence. The only sound coming from you muffled cries. He held you longer than he needed. You’d stopped crying into his chest nearly five minutes ago, but he simply held you. One hand around your back and one hand cradling your head. It was exactly what you needed. Dally always knew.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’ll be okay.” He whispered as he held you. You fisted at the denim shirt he had on grounding yourself into him.

You pulled back looking over his concerned face. Why him? Why did you have to fall in love with the one person who would never love you like you loved him back? You took a shaky breath, “Thank you Darrel. I couldn’t do this without you.”

He brushed the stray tears away from your face, “Can I tell you something? Between me and you?”

You nodded quickly feeling the shivers run up and down your body from his hand running up and down your back as if was second nature. You were wear for Darry Curtis and everybody knew it. He had to know, had to, “You can tell me anything Darry.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Inside and out.”

Your eyes shot to his with a wide expression, “Say you’re serious Darry.” You couldn’t believe him. In all your years of pining. Of making it rather of how you felt about him. You never even caught a hint that he could feel the same for you. This was new and so wonderfully different than the Darry you knew. Was a major breakdown all you needed to break down his walls?

“’m so serious, bubs. When am I not?” He smirked knowing he had you beat there. He was the most serious guy you knew. Everyone knew it. Don’t mess with Darry Curtis.

“You got me there Mr. Curtis.” A laugh escaped you as you burrowed your head into his neck once more, “Can I tell you something Darry?”

He smiled looking down at you curled into his body. You were too cute clinging to him. He didn’t want to admit how many times he’d imagined something of the sort. How could he think of you like that? He knew you since you were six. You moved in down the street and were fast friends with Soda and toddler Pony. Pony was attached at your hip and the rest was history. You might’ve been two years older than him, but you treated him like your equal. He loved that about you.

“You can tell me anything pretty girl.” His smirk only grew as he felt you grinning into his chest. Darry had always adored the spit fire of a girl. You were a born greaser, through and through. You had a mouth, but you had hands to back it up. Darry or Soda had to step in on your behalf many times because the Soc’s refused to fight a girl. You’d been roughed up a few times to ‘put you back into your place’ but it never worked. Your mouth only got bigger. You’d become a staple in their life so seamlessly that Darry couldn’t imagine his without you in it. He didn’t know when he started to like you, nor did he know when he fell in love with you. But he knew it. By the way he wanted to comfort you. The way he craved to see you smile. How he wanted to rip Randy’s head right off when he saw your face of terror. He loved you. And he was tired of hiding it for his kid brothers sake. Like you said, you weren’t a kid anymore. They could handle it.

“You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” It came out with less confidence than you would’ve liked but it was out, nonetheless.

He gave you a squeeze, “Can I tell you one more thing?”

“You can” You nodded your head on his chest. Your heart rate rising at what he could possibly tell you.

“I love you.” He let out a sigh, “Yeah, I love you a whole lot.”

You pulled away from him for a moment. Shock taking over, “You do?”

“I do.” He answered back quickly trying to hinder any doubts you might’ve had.

“That’s great.” You smiled up him. Your eyes ran over his features as you really looked at him up close without any interruption. He was so handsome, so freaking pretty. It was unreal. Your finger ran over a curl that had made its way over his eye. You brushed it away so you could look into his light blue ones.

“Is it?” He smiled as he too looked right back into your eyes, relishing in the small touches you had given him. He shivered slightly at your touch as goosebumps ran down his back. Oh, he was a sure sucker for you.

You hummed while continuing to brush your hands thought his hair. He’d just showered, fresh from any of the greasy gel he’d yet to put in it. Your hand glided seamlessly over the semi-damp curls that framed his face so beautifully, “It is. Wanna know why?”

“Tell me.” He played along with you. Darry rarely had patience, but you seemed to be the exception. You seemed to calm him instead of aggravating him. You pushed his buttons in the right way. He knew a girl like you would never come around again in his lifetime. If he didn’t go for you he’d have to settle for somebody and wonder what his life could have become if he didn’t take the leap with you. He wasn’t going to let that happen though. No, he was taking his chance.

“Because I love you too.”

The words were something Darry Curtis wish he could have recorded to play back. You had loved him too. He was sure those lingering glances and longing stares hadn’t meant nothing.

He smiled, more than elated by your admission, “Let me take you out on a proper date then. Friday for dinner. What do you say sweet girl?”

You grinned at the newest nickname. How you’d gone from kid to bubs to sweet girl within a day should’ve given you whiplash. But you were more than happy for the change. It might’ve seemed oh so sudden to everyone around you, but it had been years in the making between the two of you. Pony never noticed a thing. Soda noticed everything. Darry ignored it for a while, until he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Sounds like a plan.” You brushed your hand along his cheek just wanting to touch him. You couldn’t help the smile that overcame you after seeing the trail of goosebumps your fingers left, “I’m not telling Soda though. That’s up to you.” You stuck your tongue out knowing you left him with the worst part of the whole ordeal.

“If that’s what it takes then I’ll happily tell that little grease head. And Pony too when he makes his way back. Serves him right for cutting out on us like that.” His smile grew as he saw your face light up in joy at his words. He was all in. He was fine telling them. He wanted them to know. He wanted people to know you were his. Certain assholes named Randy would back off. He could properly protect you without it being too overbearing. His heart nearly burst out of his chest when he saw your terror-stricken face not only an hour prior. He nearly broke down as you were sobbing into him, clinging to his shirt with your life. He knew it was now or never with you and he wanted to commit. He wanted you. He always had and now was the time to take.

You laughed at him making light of a situation that was already so hard for him. He was so strong for everyone. Especially for you, “It’s a date then.”

A sigh of relief left his throat as he pulled you in for another long hug, “Finally. I’m going to take you out to the nicest dinner.”

You shook your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

He chucked loving that you hadn’t moved from his lap. He could seriously get used to this. It wasn’t often he got alone time around here, let alone with just you. He needed to cherish this time with you knowing it came around few and far in between.

“Like I said,” He brushed a stray hair away from your face as you looked his over, “I want to. For you, I want to do anything and everything.”

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[thunderroseses]

Fist off sorry for the big wall of text coming up, I just had to get this out of head so I can finally sleep and not keep thinking about this -v-

Okay so we know that the states do have kids and partners but like do their family's know?? Do the in laws know? Or it just one big family secrets that only a few know about, what are they might to do when their kids and wife get older but they never age??

Won't people question that? Would it be harder for them to date because they have to worry about telling the wrong person that they are a state? So the states make a game out of it to see who can get the most people trying to expose them in the past before Gov gives up all together and just let's the public know? Dose the other parts of the government even know? From the welcome to the table or seems like at lest some of them do, but what about the people in chairs that switched out ever election, some of those people are bound to slip up at some point or get made they were kick out and tell the public! Would the public even believe them at that point???

Or ever, or would it turn into another  conspiracy, OoOo states are alive and the government is trying to bind it from you OoOo, if you told someone would they even believe you? Or would they just think your crazy and start spreading that as a story of a wired guy you met, what about after the government comes out and says it's true? Would anyone believe them???

Would they have to show pictures of them when they were younger to prove, yeah I was a live for a while haha, which being me to another thought, do they have human names? And if so do they change it, if so after how long? Surly they would have to because they would be found out pretty easily if they did, but that would also be a lot of work to change everything so I'm not sure, also if they have banks and stuff would they have to let more people in, or do they just switch banks a lot so they ces keep using the same info?

What if they tell someone but the break up/divorce  have they made special government workers to "take care of them" before they can spared the word, or just make them sound as insane as possible so no one will ever believe them.

Another thing is are their family okay with them living on the state house? Like at all??

Did Gov even clear it with the states first or no? Dude they have kids to rise and your taking them away to lie with other states!

And for what for them to get alone? Who give a shot about that let their kids have a father figure Their life, also how would you even explain that to your kids? I'm sorry I have to leave you guys my work is forcing me to live with my coworkers until we can fet along :D

Also how do their families feel about them possibly having countless children and wife's that died before hand like in the 1800?

Who know how many states have kids from back then, has their Statehood ever been exposed because their family tree would be fucked? Like hey wait why do all theses people lead back to someone very much alive to this day?

What about their kids having kids? Do those kids know about the family secret or are they clueless about it? Are their states just filled up with their family members at this point?

Like hey we have the same great grandpa and look his still alive to this day making more off springs to make his state less empty 😌 surely the government would have to be working overtime just to cover everything up unless everyone already knows about it for some reason, that also bags the question would their people be okay will the state making all the calls since their "human" at lest in a way, would they think the state is making all the calls or the people they elected into the government?

Also what would they do if their kids uses yeah well my dad is the sate of Washington? Could the states use their  positions to kick out families and people they don't like?

Ie a guy bumped into you without saying sorry, welp guess you'll never get a job here again! Nore will anyone in you family either! So it's this tired family line that can't get a job in New York after someone killed his pigeon, his tracking their entire family line to make sure none of them can sneak back into the state no matter how many years have gone by.

Anyways this is all to say them having wife's and kids create a lot of questions I would love to see Ben's opinion on

You know what. Scratch that, Fuck you Ben for making me stay up thinking about fictional anatomical states , because now I just keep coming back to add more stuff!

But on the mean time thank you for coming to another late night rambling with Thunder <3

[undergrounddweller89]

hii, i wanted to say that i really love your writing and art. brings me joy to see chai x kale, my blorbos. do you have any headcannons about them?

🤔 well without any specific ones you'd like me to talk about my brain is trying to pick one but I guess I do have some but they're probably stuff I've already written heh ❤️ and thank you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

So like we all think about how Kale is the oldest so he's gotta always be 100 percent in charge right?

Well what if he let's Chai sometimes just decide their schedule for the day, doesn't matter what it is, he didn't have to plan it , sort it or work it out, he gets to come along for the ride and actually experience a few things.

Kale and his Sister plan days so that they can take time off to be with their significant others.

I bet there's some days Kale just loves making a fuss of Chai and Chai acts like his usual cocky self but adores it....just as much as Kale can be stubborn he likes that Chai always remembers his coffee and will even go off campus to get him a Cortado if the machines are broken.

No one but Chai knows Kale likes his coffee with lots of milk and three sugars, that's one he's been told to take to the grave with him, Chai thinks it's fucking cute but accepts these terms of knowing this oh so secret information xD

Let's see love making can vary from if I don't fuck you now I'll die, from Kale being above him and gently cupping Chai's cheek , his hand covering almost half his face with how big it is, and his heart races in the quiet moment , those moments he can't believe he's really in because it's so perfect it has to be a dream right, when ever Kale holds Chai's face like this , Chai always kisses Kale's palm and smiles up at him and says I love you.

Which has Kale leaning down to kiss him because how could he not love Chai.

They are super cuddly after sex like if kale gets up to go get a snack Chai is holding onto him like a koala and Kale loves it, he'll literally panic if Chai doesn't because he'll worry something is wrong.

One year Chai learned how to knit

(I can't knit for shit but if I could I would knit my loved ones so many scarfs they could make a rope bridge out of them xD)

Turns out Chai was really good at knitting and taught CNMN how to knit and Macaron even joined....they formed a little knitting club :3c Because I head cannonly say so pffft

But back to the point

So it was like Kale's birthday and Chai saw all the really expensive gifts Kale got and Chai was standing at the back as everyone gave their gift , probably like at some big party....because let's be honest who gets to plan what they really want the do on their own birthday and have to go along with the plans everyone else makes for them.

Kale noticed that Chai left at one point and made sure to send a message asking if he was alright and Chai just said he was tired.

Kale wasn't sure how much Chai had drunk that night so he really might be but he didn't stay too much past midnight and returned back to their home.

Chai woke up being poked in the face

"Hey...I know you got me something...I've been waiting all day for it gimme."

Kale held out his hand expectantly and Chai curls up and is like no...it's not as good as all those other ones.

Kale shakes his head

Pffft please they saw something shiny and assumed I wanted and or needed it, they didn't pick it because they love me they chose them because they love my name.

He pokes Chai's sides and Chai's like noooo you know I'm ticklish!

That's the point kid , now where's my birthday present, come on gimme you rascal!

Keeps playfully tickling his side's and Chai eventually rolls off the thin box he was laying on top of the bow crushed but Kale didn't care he was quick to rip off the packaging with a triumphant laugh only to go quiet as he held it in his hands.

A beautiful red scarf with the Vandelay logo at each end the white V's were lined in gold the red at each end fading into gray then black with tassley bits at the end which he immediately started playing with.

"Sorry I know it's not that-"

"I swear to god Chai if you tell me it's not good I will bite you hard you won't heal for a week."

Chai blushes at that and then watches him play with the end of the scarf.

"I noticed you start to play with your pens or other little things when you're bored or stressed so I added the tassley bits at the end."

Kale's still looking at it and smiling

"I personally want to throw every gift I've gotten in the fire tonight apart from this one, this is the only gift that matters to me but you know there's one other I would like tonight..."

"Oh?"

"I think you know what it -wait a minute...."

He went to carefully place the scarf in a very safe place before coming back and kissing him

"I think you know what I want , am I too late to cash in on that access to Chai's body whenever I want on my birthday coupon?"

"I gave that to you three years ago."

"You never put an expiration date on it..."

Chai kissed him while still giggling and wrapping himself around Kale

"I suppose I didn't...but keep it , after all it doesn't say it has a one time use either."

That turned head cannony rambly xD there's probably more ideas but I think I put a fair bit here already.

If there's something specific you wanna ask go right ahead ❤️

[kitkatopinions]

General opinion on mercury?

Merc! That's my sister's blorbo, so I love him. XD

Mercury is one of the few rwby characters who hasn't been severely impacted by bad writing, but that's largely because of how underutilized and ignored he's been.

He's a good character, his motivations are interesting to me simply because he doesn't really seem to have any, but in a way that actually makes sense. His motivations are that he just goes along with whatever is happening, he was raised into a certain life and never thought to doubt it because that's just how things were, and when he finally did snap and kill his father, he decided meeting Cinder and Cinder bringing him into her plans was fate and just went along with it, and just didn't ever really question his place in it even though he knew Cinder was manipulating him and didn't care about him. Even when confronted with the fact that Salem's plans might not be what she presented them as, he barely seemed to care because unlike Emerald he was never actually in this to make a new world. He's like an evil Sonic the Hedgehog, like "It doesn't matter now what happens, I will never give up the fight! Long as the voice inside drives me to run and fight, it doesn't matter who is wrong and who is right" it fits him, just in the evil way.

Also, before everyone got nerfed by bad fight choreography, Mercury was one of the top notch fighters in the show and I won't be taking criticism on that point. Kid dodged lightning

Kid kicked Ruby out of her super speed

And the other fights we see from him in the early seasons, he's barely even trying, with the exception of Merc V Yang which seems to be the most effort he puts into his fighting that we ever see and we know he still throws the competition.

I'm convinced that if they hadn't downgraded their combat to such a terrible degree, then we would've seen Mercury in even better fights. One of the few characters that I think could probably hold their own against Neo in her prime who ran circles around Yang.

But enough about the combat, because what's really great about Mercury is the potential! Because of his motivations, you can pretty much assign him any story or morality in a re-write that you want without changing his character too much. If Mercury got picked up by Qrow and taken to Ozpin after killing his father instead of getting picked up by Cinder and taken into Salem's circle, he'd have a completely different story and a whole new outlook. If Mercury had been picked up by Sienna Kahn and befriended Adam rather than being picked up by Cinder and befriending Emerald than he'd have a completely different story and a whole new outlook. If Cinder had put Mercury and Emerald on a team with Sun and Neptune instead of being on the team herself with a disguised Neo, he could probably befriend them and have a completely different story and a whole new outlook. If Mercury wound up getting dragged into running away from Salem with Emerald and instead started working with a 'survived the Fall of Beacon Roman Torchwick' who made them join the good side in an effort to beat Salem (which is what I went with for most of my fics lol) he'd have a completely different story and a whole new outlook. Also his potential dynamics outside of Emerald and Cinder are also incredibly interesting (just to be clear, his dynamics with Emerald and Cinder are also interesting but since those are the only dynamics that get any care in the show, I'm skipping over them,) especially if you start having him get a redemption arc. Because the thing about a good redemption arc is that the past doesn't just go away, it still impacts people. Mercury trying to be friends with Ruby, but knowing that the hand he played in Penny's death is always right there in her head is such a good concept. Mercury maybe having something romantic with Yang, but knowing that not only did he cheat and make her think she was losing her mind in the Vytal Tournament, but also helped cause the events that led to so much pain for her is such a good idea. Mercury befriending Nora, but always being aware of 'Pyrrha' hanging over their heads is such a good idea!

Mercury is a character that you can do so much with! The number one problem with Mercury's character is that it's been stagnating and given next to nothing for years. The last time something really interesting happened with his character was in volume six, and that was just one scene, and now volume eight set up 'he might be used more interestingly in the future,' but outside of that, he really hasn't been treated as relevant or important or been given much as a character since volume 3. This has kept him from being affected by the bad writing curse that's made almost every single character who wasn't dead by V3 an idiot, a jerk, or just plain boring, but it's also made him pretty... dry? I don't know the right word, it just feels like I often forget he exists when I'm actually watching the show these days, until he's actually on screen which is rarely. That's a bad thing. Boy literally just showed up in volume eight to remind the audience that he existed before he noped out of the season without doing anything. I wish he was better used, but a part of me hopes Mercury stays away so he stays a generally pretty good character, even if he has to remain a villain to achieve it.

Anyway, thanks for this ask!

[unicyclehippo]

Sorry you had a bad day yesterday, hope today is better for you.

If you are still taking prompts, maybe a Ronance one where Nancy gets injured (be it in the upside-down or just in regular normal life) and Robin patches her up /takes care of her?

after everything they’ve been through, it takes four splattered pizzas and a skinned knee to make nancy wheeler cry.

for a moment that stretches on and on, punctuated by the sound of nancy crying—and it’s awful, it’s so quiet and strained like she can’t breathe and robin’s chest aches like her rib cage is closing right around all the tender parts of herself—and while the girls kinda fold toward her, the boys are frozen in place, a strained frozen panic like the basement has become a minefield and any wrong movement could blow them all into pieces, and mike—jesus, mike—he’s staring at nancy, horrified, like seeing his big sister cry is the first sign of the apocalypse.

robin claps her hands. it’s a sharp sound and she hurts her hands with how hard she clapped. and there’s a prickling under her skin when all eyes—except, notably, one pair—land on her. she’s expecting the attention to make her panic and it does, sort of; she can feel her pulse hammering, and her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth and her brain goes all fuzzy but through it all she can hear herself thinking: good. give her a little peace, give her a little space.

‘little wheeler, call the shop. we need new pizzas—stat!’ she barks when he doesn’t move. he jumps and sprints up the stairs, two at a time. ‘other boys—‘

‘we have names,’ lucas mutters under his breath, like he always does. it’s so common, so routine, that a little of the tension dissolves—the strain of panic drifting sidelong into the familiar strains of teasing—and the joke settles over the basement like a bandaid, holding them together until this—nancy—can be fixed.

robin ignores his comment, like she always does, though this time she smiles. ‘paper towels, soap, bucket of water,’ she lists. he salutes her like a soldier. grabs will to help him. robin spins on her heel. ‘henderson—‘

‘you know his name?’ someone mutters before the basement door closes.

‘—rubbish to the bin.’ he nods. sidles past the still crying nancy like she’s radioactive. ‘el, max—‘

‘we’re helping. we’re helping you,’ el says firmly, and plants herself solidly beside nancy. max—who shouldn’t be walking let alone looking very much like someone who intends to carry nancy up a flight of stairs—nods and limps to nancy’s other side.

robin can’t deal with helpful little girls right now so she just nods. ‘go. go to nancy’s bathroom. i need warm water in the bath—just a little, not the whole tub—some towels, and a first-aid kit if you can find one.’

‘but—‘

‘go, max.’ she knocks her knuckles against max’s temple, pulls her head against robin’s shoulder. ‘give her time to chill,’ she says, asks, explains. max nods.

‘okay. take care of her.’

‘of course.’

robin sits next to nancy on the floor of her basement. her chest is tight with panic—should she have ignored the kids and dived to the floor next to a crying nancy wheeler? should she have tried to calm her down or helped her out of the room? but what’s done is done and robin twists, lays one leg behind the crouched, shaking nancy wheeler and her other out along her side in a V.

‘what am i doing?’ she mutters. would nancy even like this? would she find it weird or off-putting or, worse, maybe it would frighten her, make her think of vines and ridged prehensile bat tails—and then nancy’s breath catches and she almost retches she’s trying so hard to cry silently, which, fucking hell. and robin stops thinking and instead wraps her arms around nancy wheeler’s shockingly tense shoulders, pulls her sideways into a bracing hug.

nancy tenses.

‘didn’t think you could get more tense, wheeler, robin teases. ‘relax. just me. robin buckley. from school,’ she adds, like an idiot.

nancy’s shoulders twitch. her hands, white-knuckled closed over her mouth, relax enough for a strangled little breath to escape. that’s good, that’s a victory in robin’s books. she unwinds her arms and stops with a wince; one of nancy’s hands drops from her mouth so fast, claws her nails into robin to keep her where she is. wide eyes, washed pale with tears, lift from the pilled carpet to stare at robin, entreat her to. stay? maybe?

robin closes her in that tight hug again—so tight it probably hurts, so tight it makes her own ribs creak—and lets nancy cling to one arm. the other, she only moves enough to start to rub big circles over her back.

‘obviously from school,’ she continues, because nancy had laughed or breathed or whatever and that was better than these frankly disturbing sobs. ‘but also from such notable locations as your own basement, family videos, and—‘ she stutters, trying to think of somewhere else she frequents that isn’t a hell world. that’s kind of sad, isn’t it? school and work? ‘the library. fuck me, i’m a nerd,’ robin groans.

nancy breathes in, shaky.

‘i’m a nerd. i’m gonna graduate with a goddamn three point eight and a trumpet at my side and zero goddamn friends because all i do is study and work. i’m a tragedy of a teenager,’ she laments, in the dramatic, humour-laced tone of someone who only half means what she’s saying. ‘wonder if anyone else is gonna graduate without having been to a single party or gone to any of those dances. shit, does the principal even know who i am? maybe i’ll hire someone to walk the stage instead of me and they won’t even know. i’ll call it the buckley spectacular, what do you think?

‘i’m—‘

robin clamps her teeth down on her bottom lip to stop a relieved shout, hearing nancy speak ever so faintly. she nudges closer, lifts her knee so nancy has a backrest, curls her circling hand around nancy’s shoulder. distantly, in a way she knows she’ll scream into her pillow about tonight, she notes that nancy is kinda cold. not freezing, but the kind of cold that makes robin want to grab her and hug her even closer, warm her up, rub her hands up and down her arms to coax a little heat back into her.

‘you’re what?’ robin asks, soft as she can.

nancy tenses and robin strokes her hand down from her neck down her spine, rubs wide over her shoulders, to warm her, relax her, and she swears she’ll pull back the very second it seems like nancy doesn’t like this but then nancy is letting her breath out with a shudder and like a string-cut puppet, all her limbs seem to let go of the tension and she drops heavily into robin’s hug.

‘i’m three point nine.’

robin blinks. then rolls her eyes. ‘wow. trust your superiority complex to pull you out of a panic attack. only you, wheeler,‘ she says, and she bites her lip again hard, her hand stutters in its circling reassurance, when the words come out so fucking fond.

nancy doesn’t react except to bury a snotty, teary laugh (more of a sob, to be perfectly honest) into robin’s shoulder. robin lets her. robin would let nancy do just about anything. robin feels honoured, pleased, moved beyond belief to get to be the person with nancy when she’s studying, let alone breaking down in the circle of her arms. she should probably think about that at some point but. not yet. for this second, she takes in the feeling of nancy’s weight against her, the flutter of eyelashes against her collar. the way nancy is still gripping tight to her arm and the tightness of the grip is only only released in fractions respective to how tight robin hugs her. somewhere overhead, pipes rattled and groan and spit, and she knows that’s her cue.

‘let me take you upstairs,’ robin says finally, against the top of nancy’s head. ‘look at your knee.’

‘everyone’s gonna look at me.’

robin hums. ‘they won’t.’

‘they will—so stupid,’

‘they won’t, nance. and if they do, i’ll tell them to fuck off.’

nancy laughs, a soft exhale. it’s gross, objectively, the feeling of her hot breath against robin’s neck, just because she’s been crying there and robin’s neck feels snotty and slimy with tears, so it’s totally stupid that robin’s brain tingles all over like someone opened up her skull and replaced it with popping sherbet. her fingers shake, her stomach drops right through the ground and drags at her, empty of food—RIP pizza—empty of everything but shame. stupid, stupid, stupid, to feel like this when nancy wheeler is crying on her.

she has to swallow twice before she can get the words out. ‘you ready?’

‘no.’

robin blinks. ‘oh. i never- huh.’ nancy wheeler, not ready for something. the thought hits her like a bat, bruising something in her. it hurts when she thinks of it.

nancy peels away from her shoulder. her face is grey, pale and streaked with tear lines. makeup smudged. utterly lovely. robin stares until she realises she shouldn’t, and looks away. to the basement door, still closed.

‘that bad, huh?’ nancy jokes. her attempt at a smile—because robin can’t not look for long—pulls her lips sideways, not up. ‘I’m an ugly crier. splotchy.’

robin shakes her head. draws her hands back into herself, drums restless fingers on her knee, curls the other around the back of her neck. ‘no,’ she says. hands flail. from knee to floor. from neck to hair. ‘you’re - fine. i, all my freckles go white. or, my face goes red so they look white. it’s—bad. puffy eyes. you look—‘ robin flicks her eyes up, over nancy’s face again.

she’s still so close. lower back against robin’s thigh, knee still propped up behind her. feet tucked under robin’s other knee. one hand trying to tame her curls, or going through the motions. eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. robin wants fiercely for no one else to see her like this, because nancy’s pride is important to her and so is pretending that everything is okay so the kids don’t freak. she wants to be the only one to know that nancy’s lips tremble in the aftermath of such sobs, like anything could propel her back into crying. wants it to never happen again. wants to be the one nancy clings to every time. such dangerous thoughts.

‘pretty.’

‘pretty?’ nancy repeats.

robin’s heart tries to kill her. slams in her chest. she can feel it under her throat, trembling in her wrists. ‘i - yeah. i mean, you even cry pretty. can’t be that smart, miss three point nine, if you think you’re an ugly crier.’

nancy’s lips twitch upwards. her hand in her hair falls to robin’s shoulder, slides across until it comes to rest on the juncture of her collar and neck. she rubs her thumb against the skin there and robin prays to every being capable of granting miracles that she doesn’t feel the way robin’s heart thunders away under her touch. ‘i cried all over you. sorry. that’s so gross.’

‘i’ll clean up when i look at that knee,’ robin prods.

nancy rolls her eyes. winces.

‘headache?’

‘a bit.’

robin nods. ‘i’ll send the kiddies for ice-cream, a heat pack, a tom cruise movie, advil, and tea.’ nancy looks bemused by the list. ‘it’ll keep them busy. and who knows? maybe we get lucky and one of those things helps.’

‘i think i just want to sleep.’ nancy peers around at the empty basement, the title screen of their movie still exactly as it was, paused at the promise of dinner. ‘shit. i totally ruined movie night—‘

‘no.’

‘i did—and mike, shit, he saw me crying—he’s going to think i’m nuts—‘

‘nancy,’

‘and all these kids have been through so much, they don’t need me breaking down over something so stupid—‘

‘nancy!’ robin scrambles to her knees in front of the other girl. takes her by the wrists, draws nancy’s hands from where they twist into her own hair. she pulls them down to nancy’s lap and lets go, can’t stop one hand from going up and patting her curls back into place. ‘please don’t freak out again,’ she asks, politely. ‘i don’t think i can take it.’

nancy stares back at her, eyes wide, pupils blown. ‘okay.’

‘thank you.’

‘you’re welcome.’

robin crooks a smile. ‘help you to your feet?’ she stands first and reaches down, takes nancy’s hands and gently eases her up. her skinned knee is probably sprained, or bruised, because nancy needs to hold onto her and limp toward the stairs. robin loops an arm around her waist, turns worriedly to her when nancy tenses. ‘Is that okay?’ she asks.

nancy nods, frowning down at the floor. the stairs, probably seeing what robin sees, a mountain to climb ahead of them.

‘let me help,’ robin says, and figures she’s too close to nancy when a curl sways with her words. she turns away sharply to regard the stairs. ‘i could probably carry you, honestly, steve and i lift boxes all day every day and, and you’re tiny, so—‘

‘robin?’

‘yes.’

‘just lift when i jump.’

‘good idea, yes, can do.’

[mtreebeardiles]

Starting Fires, pt 1

Also over on AO3!

Sequel to Chasing Storms

In all her 80-odd years of life, Rogue had come to expect a certain level of…unusual, in the circumstances that sprang up around her. Knew ever since she'd come to this city that her definition of 'normal' would be permanently shifted, skewed by the sorts of personalities unafraid to play with things they barely understood. Power vying for power was nothing new, but the playing field was: cyberspace, real space, the unavoidable blending of the two, and it wasn't like she didn't come to embrace some of that herself. Chrome added over the years, best she could afford and she could afford a lot over the course of her life, but she liked to think she didn't let it change who she was.

Much.

No, if anything it was…circumstances. A willingness to bend, to see the bigger picture, to understand that there was a currency in these bloodied streets, a give and a take and if you were smart enough, clever enough, or fortunate enough, you could make sure you got more than you gave and not the other way around. And maybe the young woman she'd been once upon a time would've scoffed at the decisions she'd made along the way, but that version of herself would've needed to grow up sometime.

And at least she'd had the chance to grow up at all. 

But some habits were harder to break. Old patterns and tendencies carved deep with repetition, reflexive, almost instinctual even if those instincts didn't do much for her sense of self-preservation. A few notable weak points, spots in the armor open to exploitation if she wasn't careful, but at least each one had been a choice. Her son, for one. V for another. Claire and a handful of her Afterlife regulars, people she'd come to know and foster a deeper relationship with, Emmerick and Nix and Crispin. 

And, despite her best efforts, Johnny fucking Silverhand.

She'd gotten the call the day before, Sandra knowing Rogue was one on a very short list of people to reach out to about her and V's little…project… in the event V wasn't available. Had tried getting into contact with him herself, then Panam, sources eventually confirming a storm making already iffy comms all but nonexistent and even if they could get ahold of V any time soon it would still take a couple of days for them to make the trip back. 

They weren't even a full week into V's two-week vacation, and Rogue briefly considered leaving off, letting him have that full span of time to rest, but in the end decided against it. V would never forgive her if she didn't keep trying, and somehow the kid's opinion had come to matter a whole lot to her over these past few years. 

Still not exactly sure when that happened. 

Which was only partially true, if she bothered to think about it honestly. Hadn't thought much of him after the cock-up with Konpecki Plaza, the sole survivor of a heist gone terrifically wrong, and he'd already been in pretty fucking rough shape when he'd sought her out afterwards. But there'd been something there, some spark or other that yeah, reminded her of Johnny, but in so many ways was unique to V himself -- or at least unique to the man he'd become after having Johnny's engram in his head for any amount of time. An earnestness that called back to a different time, when the city had looked a lot different and operated under slightly different rules, before the corps had wrangled a tighter grip over even the least amenable elements. 

He'd been the sort of guy a much younger Rogue might've teamed up with, been happy to work with, and their little field trip to confront Grayson on the Ebunike two years ago had only underscored that sentiment. Maybe more of a sweetheart than she usually would've engaged with but contrary to what Johnny may have felt, Rogue didn't have his same taste for destruction and V's commitment to life, to living, was a breath of fresh air in comparison.

Can only hope some of that rubbed off on Johnny.

If any of V's insane plan worked, anyway. 

She angled her car down a side street, some dimly lit one-way with little vehicle or pedestrian traffic, buildings rising on either side nondescript and only partially utilized. A few shops, closed for the evening, some lights in the higher windows, grates on some, boards on others. Graffiti a nod to the Mox for all the Mox didn't lay claim to many areas in the city, but when they did they carved their marks deep, presence a promise as much as a threat. 

The place she was looking for was as unremarkable as the others surrounding it, and she might've missed it if her ping hadn't triggered a garage door opening to her left. A smooth turn in and the door eased closed behind her, pitching her into near perfect darkness save for the glow of her car dash. Another moment, sensors picking up on a scan, and she resisted the urge to tap her fingers against the steering wheel as she waited. 

A flash of light overhead and the opposite wall from the door shifted away, granting her passage through the tunnel beyond. 

People do still love their air of mystery in this town.

Secret tunnels, secret labs, secret experiments, all to make the inevitable game of cat and mouse that much more interesting. 

This particular tunnel opened up on an underground parking lot, a line of cars already present. Some sporty, some clunkers, no clear plates or gang markings to indicate who may have owned them, and she pulled in to an open spot near the end. Was just getting out when a nearby set of double doors swished open in a gust of temperature-controlled air and Sandra Dorsett stepped through to wait for her. 

"Everything alright?" 

Rogue's opinion of the young corpo woman was… reserved. She'd done her fair share of checking into her details, her history, her work both legitimate and less legitimate, and knew that for all she could be sweet-seeming and soft-spoken there was a hard edge of steel under that pretty surface. Not something Rogue necessarily disapproved of, but it was always best to err on the side of caution when it came to Suits. 

"He's… awake," Sandra admitted after a moment, glancing back towards the door. Rogue stared at her.

"Already? What happened to 'a few days to a week, maybe even a month?'"

"The estimates were always going to be rough," the younger woman replied, unruffled. "We don't exactly have a precedent for this sort of thing."

"And the body? It's --"

"--you can see for yourself," Sandra interrupted. Her cheeks flushed a little but she lifted her chin. "It would be…easier, I mean, if you could see for yourself."

Rogue eyed her a moment before gesturing her on ahead.

"Lead the way, then."

The facility was state of the art for all it was hidden under a dump. Clean, sterile hallways branching off into neat, tidy offices, exam rooms, and a 'runner den large enough for a handful of divers. The sort of work V hoped to accomplish here was still very much in the trial phase, she knew, but she couldn't deny that he'd made one hell of a start already -- maybe hit goals a little too fast, a little too hard, testament to what she strongly suspected was guilt for being out of commission those first few months after Mikoshi and being bed-ridden at regular intervals after that. As if any of it had been his fault, as if anyone who knew him would hold those traumas against him, but she knew there was more to it than that. 

It was something he'd had to do, had to keep doing, some justification for his life when so many others had died. Maybe Johnny fed a lot of that guilt, but she didn't doubt Jackie Welles was in there, too, T-Bug, that Parker girl…

Death follows in your wake. 

She'd never been one to shy from speaking the truth, but that didn't mean she never regretted voicing it, sometimes.

She just hoped the aftermath of that fucking heist wouldn't haunt the kid forever.

"Preliminary scans confirm its him?" she asked Sandra once she and the younger woman were in an elevator heading down to the next sub-level. 

"Seems like it," Sandra confirmed. "His…engram isn't in the best shape, but so far as we've been able to tell, it's him."

Rogue frowned, chewing over this information in silence until they reached the desired floor and stepped into a hallway identical to the one above. This one led out into a space more reminiscent of a hospital ward, every room empty save for clean, sterile bedding and general equipment.

Every room but one.

"What's that mean, exactly? What would be wrong with his…what, his code?"

Sandra glanced at her sidelong, mouth tightening and brow furrowing as she contemplated her answer. 

"He was in the deep Net for about two years, Rogue," she replied at last. "Swimming in the currents against all manner of Ais, of whatever remnants escaped from Mikoshi, beyond the Blackwall…" She shook her head. "Some damage was inevitable."

Rogue said nothing to this, mouth dry. Netrunning, cyberspace… these were things she knew about on a surface-level only, learning particulars when needed, arming herself with just enough knowledge to navigate topics pertaining to her interests. She knew Alt Cunningham had fled into the Net; she knew that freeing her from Mikoshi had been part of Johnny's plan that night in 2023. She wasn't sure how the 'runner-turned-AI had fit into Johnny's third run on 'Saka tower, but a part of her had assumed…

She'd assumed whatever remained of Alt would've at least tried to keep him safe.

She shook the thoughts away as she followed Sandra down the hall, into an observing room attached to one of the patient rooms. Lights hummed to life above them, harsh against white walls and tiling, but Rogue's gaze was drawn immediately to the viewing window and the scene waiting beyond it. 

The once-pristine room on the other side of the glass was trashed, or at least as trashed as it could be with its minimal furniture and supplies. Bed overturned, mattress across the room, sheets and pillows strewn between the two; drawers ripped off their tracks, cabinet doors torn off their hinges, and she could only imagine how the cause for all this chaos had tried utilizing whatever he could get his hands on to try and break through the door. 

"We didn't have time to hook up a med-feed," Sandra explained. "And no one wanted to get in there with him to try and sedate him." She paused for a beat. "He's stronger than he looks."

"V agree to that?" Rogue asked sharply. "Sedatives?"

"He agreed to it as a last resort," Sandra responded, folding her arms over her chest. "In case it wasn't him, for one, and in case there was a risk of real harm -- to himself or to one of us." The Suit glanced at her sidelong. "With you here… I'm hoping we won't have to escalate matters."

Rogue ran a hand over her face, taking a deep, deep breath. 

She was used to things in her life being a little out there, a little…unusual. 

And with Johnny? The circumstances never stayed anywhere near normal for long.

[waiting-on-a-dream]

oh, aurora, i wanted to ask, what would mia and irene think of my rsa kids? 👀 i'm especially curious (get it, because mia's tag) about fake!jay and mia's dynamic, i think they would get along pretty well, since both of them want to know so much about this world and jay is a very smart boy and all that..

*Cracks knuckles* Finally got around to answering this!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

Avery Glass

Mia: She wants to be friends with him, but he's scary! Something probably happened to him before that made him...the way he is now, but she's too scared of him to talk about it, so she just avoids him for the most part. If they ever have to work together on something, she'll try her best to be friendly though!

Irene: Empathetic curiosity on! His backstory, his UM, why he's so prickly about 'pretty' people, she's curious! But of course, she doesn't push him to talk about it right away, focusing on befriending him first. She isn't deterred by his tsundere behavior, if anything she finds it cute! He'll find himself warming up to her before he knows it!

Allen Snowhill

Mia: He seems nice! She'll be wanting to befriend him, and is more than happy to talk about whatever he wants! I can imagine them taking care of animals together, with Allen just wanting to pet them, and Mia wanting to study their behavior a little bit. ^v^

Irene: What a sweet child, but there's a bit of an intense aura to him...She's nice for the most part, but she interacts with him with a cautiousness that's reserved for people she has a bad feeling about. Allen hasn't done anything wrong just yet, so she gives him the benefit of the doubt for now.

Roland Thorn

Mia: She might just have him adopt her as a little sister figure! UvU But yeah, she really likes how he tries to be responsible and reliable for his underclassmen. He's pretty laid-back too! Hopefully he doesn't lecture her too much when one of her experiments blows up (again), she'll feel really bad otherwise.

Irene: Again, empathetic curiosity on! Why doesn't he like to talk about his UM? Why does he wear an eyepatch? Are the rumors about his past true? She befriends him out of care and concern, and maybe to sate her curiosity. He isn't so bad to hang around either.

Jay Polley

Mia: Ooh, fellow curious fellow! She'd definitely be trying to befriend him whenever she can, and probably finds his polite demeanor super cute. He can help her learn more about human culture, and in return she'd help him learn more about merfolk!

Irene: He reminds her of Chandani actually. He's a very nice boy, and she finds herself taking him under her wing almost instantly. Hopefully he likes having an older sister figure?

Ashley Leroll

Mia: This 'Angel' dorm leader sure is a weird person! She doesn't mind befriending Angel, but finds their strange tendencies a little too much to handle sometimes. But when she is in the mood for Angel's eccentricity, they get along very well!

Irene: Angel is a little too energetic for her to handle for long, but she's still friendly with them for the most part. There are times when she's in the mood to discuss conspiracy theories with them though!

Blythe Whitney

Mia: Blythe seems nice, but...boring. :( She's friendly with Blythe, but finds it hard to connect with her over their differences. The bunny girl is too stiff and anxious for her to properly have fun around.

Irene: This poor girl. Irene feels sympathetic for her, especially if Blythe decides to tell them about how her dorm stresses her out. They would love to be friends with her, and maybe convince her to give her dormmates a piece of her mind at some point. Can't have Blythe making herself too stressed now.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Heya! I guess I’m seeking advice and support

I m have relational trauma and of course it all started when I was a kid. Now I’m 26 doing my msc in uni. Basically my issue is that I really don’t know if some people are my friends or if they just pretend to be either because they gain something from me or maybe they just call themselves that but are not *being* a friend. I’ll give a few examples of what I mean.

1. I noticed in my friends from outside uni that I’m surrounded by people who are not great listeners or at least they don’t listen to me whereas I listen to them. An example of this is, my friend A goes through some romance issues and I caught him many times seeking me to hang out only because he wants to do something and go out instead of wallowing in his room about love.. and trust me there’s nothing wrong with wanting some time off your thoughts with your friends to accompany you, but with A we recently came closer and I don’t know if I’m his getaway for going out and not overthinking or if he actually enjoys my company and likes hanging out with me.. and I say this because the past few months since I met him he’d only text me whenever he was going through something and was overthinking, and the last month we finally decided to meet and the first time we met we went to this bar and I felt like he didn’t give me as much attention as I had given him as he was just looking around, whereas I sat and properly listened to whatever he wanted to rant about.

So related to this, lots of my outside uni friends are really not great at listening to me. My friend Z, she has lots of issues and she’s there for me sometimes too but I noticed that even in times when she knows I’m going through something she will call to check on me but we’ll end up talking about her issues… and I’m sitting there like ‘ok I thought you called to check on me but now you’re venting and I have to be the supporter a g a i n’ so honestly idk what to think anymore, are people using me? Don’t get me wrong I’m a great friend, that’s why people feel so at ease to rant and call me etc but I wanna experience that too sometime and I keep getting the feeling like people just don’t care as much about me as I care about them and ut breaks my heart.

2. In uni. I’m really shy and all this relational trauma doesn’t help as I can’t trust people, every time I trusted them things were great and then something would happen and they’d betray or abandon me. So I find it really hard to make friends and feel reserved because of it and I know it doesn’t help but I’m trying to work on it. Regardless, my issue in uni is that even though some of my classmates know that I struggle with this and have even figured that I feel much better 1 to 1 instead of groups, they really don’t invite me to any hang outs outside of uni. And I know they invite each other all the time. It just makes me super sad. Like, my classmate V, she’s really understanding and caring at times and she’ll reassure me by telling me that the people there like me etc yet, she never invites me out as she invites all of them. And I just can’t believe that ‘people like me’ when I don’t see actions to prove it you know. Like it’s all words and no actions and I’m tired.

Another classmate I came close to is G, with G we’d meet she’d of course unleash alll that was happening to her on me and start venting and I’d listen and honestly it’s not an issue because I love helping people but she’d always listen to me last because of how much she was venting and again it brings me the feeling of ‘oh people are just using you to take it all out and they only ask you how you are at the end because of politeness’ and I know this is the trauma voice but honestly it has a point.

Also I don’t really hang out with G now because of what happened the last few times I asked her to hang out. The second to last time when I asked her to hang out she forgot I even proposed even though we had everything planned. The day came and she’d send no text, a few days later she texted apologizing for forgetting. Of course my trauma got triggered, as I was questioning how important I am to her otherwise she wouldn’t forget me but since I’m trying to work on it I did listen to the alternative thought I had which was ‘she was prob busy and forgot’ and yes she did admit it herself so I excused her this time. But the last time? I asked her to hang out and the day came and again no text. I mean come on, forgetting twice is too much, forgetting again even though you had an extra reason not to forget given you need to make up for the last time is way too much. So my trauma voice came back cause of course you’re allowed to forget but come on, again? Second time in a row? It was telling me that I’m not as important, that G doesn’t value me or our friendship as much as I do, that I’m not important if people forget me, that I’m not the greatest friend if people don’t care like this.

It’s just difficult to heal my relational trauma and trust issues when people do everything to validate every thing my trauma voice says.

I just don’t get it why it’s so hard.

Hi anon,

it's good to observe the dynamics of your friendships and it may be worth having a conversation with them about how to make it more fair for you, or to clarify their intentions.

Maybe with friend A you could offer to expand the friendship to something outside of venting and hanging out when the other one is upset, and if they're unwilling to make that adjustment, then the next move is up to you, whether that's continuing to maintain that one-dimensional kind of friendship or cut ties.

Perhaps with your friend Z (and G as well) you could establish some boundaries where both of you ask permission before venting, to give both of you the option to decline if the other is not in a good headspace to be supportive. Sometimes people use their own experiences to relate when someone is venting (which some people are okay with, but others feel decentered), and that may be part of the case here, but it may also be that she's genuinely not listening nor is she concerned about anything except her problems. It doesn't sound like Z is in a place in her life where she's a good person to vent to, because she seems to have many issues of her own that affect her ability to be a supportive listener.

Please know that you deserve to feel listened to and cared about, and that's part of why it's so important to surround yourself with people who can meet those basic needs, and part ways with those who can't.

If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could help you process your trauma, the dynamics of these friendships, as well as equip you with some healthy coping mechanisms that you can take with you along your healing journey.

I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[randomclam24]

Silent Hill 3

Every other Silent Hill game by the members of the original Team Silent has the combat, even on the hardest difficulty, so that as long as you take care to take the enemies one at a time, the most you have to learn is some precise timing. In Silent Hill 3, if you wanted to take that completionist approach, every little thing would have to be perfect.

Update

Well, based on how women are chameleons who will mold to whoever they're attached to at any given point in time, to the point that even a strong man that gets divorced will be called a racist bigot etc. and accused of raping the kids possibly, there's no meaningful source of will to go on but to admit that existence is not just ruled by but was literally generated from the darkness.

Any other way just doesn't make sense.

The overcoming of laziness is limited to evil, selfish intentions.

Update

The updating of posts is limited to the most recent post. That sucks

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fwrz0-dnZIA - Imgur

That poll on whether people want shitposting is shadowbanned just like my imgur account was, and the Minecraft servers.

This is what you get when I drink even a little. Also, who honestly drinks light beer, for any purpose? That shit is basically backwash. It doesn't do anything.

You actually have to pay out of pocket for that. It isn't any cheaper.

Mountain Dew probably has a stronger effect by itself.

No, I'm going to avoid alcohol for a while, now that all that's gone.

So, now that that happened, what was it like? That was last night. There really is a sort of kaleidoscope vision overlay. It's many different round shapes of different shadings on top of each other. It was really heavy. Also, it's only just then, at that state, that I finally see exactly what they're talking about with the popping bubbles effect used to imply drunken cartoon characters. It wasn't really that bad, but I also wasn't moving.

Also, I have to disclaim that artist, because he's been called out as a Freemason now.

I don't have much to live for? Imagine things popping up here and there to get pushed back down underthumb. That might happen afresh now, but in the meantime, all that's going to proceed beyond conception stage is the steady collapse of the U.S. dollar and so forth.

I don't have much as a result of the alcohol experiment, but I know there are sweet spots that require more than any form of light beer. Look at that like drinking diet soda.

I have to come up with an estimate, because I know the highest sweet spot was somewhere close before the point of seeing color overlays. The latest batch was Captain Morgans, at 100 proof, 750mL each. I got it wrong before and thought it was 1L. 375mL raw alcohol

Basically, you can sum it up as, one of these sucked all the way down will get you to that point. (One of these is about $20)

Literally, 750mL of vodka won't do this.

It was honestly an active process keeping it down without vomiting.

The math shows Plantation overproof rum, which is all I could find overproof at only one of the Walmarts, is barely any cheaper per raw alcohol volume than a 30-pack of regular beer.

What I haven't done is the calorie total.

1 Captain Morgan - 17 servings at 122 calories = 2,074 calories

Busch at the same amount of raw alcohol at 150 calories per can = 3,686 calories

Plantation at the same amount of raw alcohol at 349 calories per 100 mL = 1,897 calories

I know I'm shadowbanned on the Internet, not from people directly linking, but from people leaving behind likes and comments in real life. But even then, I think the psychological effect of having curated amounts of likes and dislikes is absolutely working.

It's true it might not be curated per se, but that anyone redirected to there from here would be shadowbanned in that their viewcounts and responses wouldn't be recorded.

I'm actually just going to try to sleep as much as possible.

6/13

I did

I made it past the difficulty spike at the start of Doom episode four on Man and a Half in Project Brutality, with the Chaotic Random spawning preset, but I have a feeling about this mod. From past playthroughs with earlier versions, there are zoom features on a lot of the weapons which provide for better accuracy, and unless you're playing on the highest three difficulties, there isn't much reason to rely on these new functions.

6/14

It's one thing to prove something as an individual. But then proceeding to get up, each morning, and repeat said action with absolute certainty every single time is something completely outlandish in comparison. Trying to teach other people to do something right is completely unrelated to the original act of proving, because in that case you have *psychological* issues to deal with to get past, and I frankly don't deal in those. They're perpetual, the only part of this that is.

If the world really was a global village like everyone online likes to think it is, the world's problems could be solved by the means of simply proving things. But the only things that will make it on the scale of the world stage are the things that can be mass-produced to the lowest common denominator.

And I'm just thinking, at that point, who really cares? That's not what proving things is about.

Be realistic: the billions are going to drink light beer and be basic today. "Go fuck yourself" is what they tell me. They say if I don't, they'll call the police promptly, and they all have top-level sanpaku eyes to go with it.

I've been gangstalked for at least the majority of my life, building up to the point it's currently at. So I don't think those are "organic" expressions. Something artificially-rooted pulled them up to the surface like that, to be having them so consistently that you would be thinking top-level sanpaku eyes are a natural state of everyday living, which in my life it certainly is. Actually, I don't think I'm supposed to be saying that out where people can listen to it.

But even so, the modern philosophy is about self-pleasuring and reaching self-satisfaction. I am technically entitled to preconclusions that satisfy me pettily. I don't like these people.

Also, although there was the Biblical verse "render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's", when it comes down to the morality as universal laws, I just find that it's unclear whether people, be it today or in the original times because I just don't know, actually believe that "the Lord", as in landlords in the feudal times, is just providing petty-scale morality by which to stave off the hardships of greater nature. That seems to be the nature of moral guidelines which people today have, because they're holding their top-level sanpaku eyes expressions inside for that moment when you start to let slip their assumption believed to be held simply in common, it's such common knowledge, that the greater reality is just savagery plus meaninglessness superimposed, no less where it's objectively not applicable, just for its own sake.

This basically implies that the entire concept of "Lord" Biblically just renders a small creature protecting his lands from the higher powers that actually be in this universe, or whatever it is.

I always thought that the belief that human nature is inherently evil is what Satanists believe, in that they rely on this, when it's only applicable to people at their lowest, which is why that all comes down to what was referred to in the Bible as suffering the "lying in wait of the Jews". Common people today believe in the image of man at his lowest as the image of man in and of itself.

What I get for the nature of surveying I do on the Internet is fridge horror: every time a figure jumps ship, it happens in the form of expressing that *everyone* is jumping ship because it's so long overdue it hurts. This plays out when it's based on a falsehood.

Update

The Bible tries - *tried* - stating this: There is no power in Hell

The modern world holds just this religiously: There's no power in *God* - we're just looking past - in this emptiness, just what actually motivates this? There's no power in God.

I know. Just everyone looks past Christians. [This is the two paragraphs that got shadowban-deleted]

And then there's the endless self-powering rant about how they deserve this when they're so lukewarm and so people can't be blamed for that

There's no point in fame, when it comes down to it. When someone makes assumptions, that's it. What you get is *artificial.* It may as well not be a living thing. Leave the actual living thing to itself so it can actually live life instead of this box. This is fucking junk.

I guess I just have to sit here complaining about the fact that Qabbalah is the reason everyone has the most meaningful decisions in their life as a half-assed side measure. Because I fuck the Qabbalah up by being a spastic or whatever the real problem is, I can't stay out of the mental institution except by living in the mind of other people - correction: *and I *hate* that!*

Would I be less harmful if I just killed myself? The book of revelation references how this is destined to make people believe they're serving God, and it *is*, to the common person. I think you're wrong, but that doesn't make a difference, and here's the proof in the pudding: you have to *mass produce* to stimulate the actual whole world, and that means absolute garbage at the end of the line. You can't afford effortposting at every level. Not even remotely possible.

If I try saying something, the entire Biblical phrase "pearls before swine" I don't think suffices it - I don't think.

The way I talk is so sublimated, it's trannies who are finding me empowering, for all I know. Done.

I don't know what I'm doing.

God doesn't *love* us. He didn't make us with minds that would process. This platform is borderline meaningless.

For that, a lot of people today would just say there is no God and move on. Haven't I ever considered that?

Honestly my current presiding reason for religion: I talked about how you can't seriously talk about why Jesus rebuked the Pharisees and such. When you experience it, you know personally what is meant by "the lying in wait of the Jews" - that's not something that comes as reconcilable to our everyday lives - and you don't talk about that.

*That* issue is a matter of on or off - you *won't* see people talking about it in religious institutions.

I don't know why we *make* religious institutions - you do realize that takes a lot of money, right?

I guess human effort, like human lives, are considered disposable.

It comes down to the way every thing the religious leaders were saying to Jesus was, explicitly mentioned, intended to entrap him in his own words. That's part of the lying in wait of the Jews.

In fact I find it unrealistic that that went and happened, because when it comes down to it, there are plenty more situations where one can be entrapped in their own words without any of that being in truth, and yet this magically worked out. It's not a human set of matters, but ones magically strung together by "sky daddy". That's what everyone says.

It could have easily not worked out just by nature of the flawed medium of back-and-forth speaking, but instead they just said to hell with it and flipped the chess board and said here, let's just hard-rig this conversation up so it'll be cool, just like those Marvel comic books

Update

I don't think anyone out there really preaches

Update

The only "morality" I have, in common with these people whose worship is good feels, is that this platform isn't worth anything in that I have to still not get arrested, as usual - it's brutalistic, plain and simple, and then everyone is just going to nod it away like it's agreed when it is because it is - what the fuck?

I have to disavow Project Brutality against my own will because *some people* are interpreting it like that's pro-law-enforcement when it's *not*. People are obviously too stupid to see the light and will cheer for more kids in cages

Okay, so at this point I'm sold that my original take averting me from Halo is - at least in public perception, the reason I'm going to hate id software now as a whole. It's pro-police-state as its only veritable function, so that's bad

Update

I can't send a message without at least telling the viewer to off themselves "ironically". There are simply no words to work through this.

Update

Even with this platform, there's nothing that can be done except empower the already-in-power establishment. I refuse to do this for such a corrupt establishment. I'm going to be spending as much time sleeping as possible as a counter-statement to the hooligans owning up to this situation before I can even get a word in edgewise, like I'm not even here.

Update after dinner

No matter how much you think it goes without saying, "I" am not "Republicans", or "religious people" - I am a completely separate entity. All of those labels are do-nothing monsters in that they unconsciously call the Masonic police on people. Without me, the timeline would be severed. Maybe that doesn't matter *now*, but it's true. This would have never come out of them. I am a foreigner.

Is it because my family line moves from country to country based on catastrophic war events breaking out? I'm just assuming, the bloodlines of people who just live stationary would have never produced one of me, like those are a different breed. I hate being conflated with Republicans because as far as I'm concerned, they don't actually *produce* anything? They just sit as servile dogs to their masters.

I don't claim to understand them.

Update

Okay, so anything I say from my personal perspective will bite me in the ass in this political environment, since tensions have escalated so very high.

But, if you take the route of imitating exactly what the elites are supposedly already doing, you can't go wrong. I'm not saying I'm all for - I'm saying a depopulation agenda done selectively might just be an imperative for basic survival. It's so bad.

6/15

Today was my birthday. I convinced my mom to get a Captain Morgan for between me and my dad instead of the beers she proposed to him before. I found out from them that only mixing Coke as soda with this substance actually works flavor-wise.

Idiots appealing to religion over Project Brutality, it's the same thing as saying Back the Blue

This is the basis for my now supporting eugenics

Update

For a review, I'm going to watch 300 for the first time

6/16

Somehow, I see a connection between the the place I just naturally stopped at in Doom II's run of Project Brutality, which is Dead Simple, and the fact that George Soros's son, appointed as his legacy, just announced he's 100 times worse than his dad.

It was being taken as a very irresponsible statement, because it was really just being received by itself, as just in and of itself.

But in this context, it sounds less like a threat and more like a passive observation that if you proceed any further like this, you will make things a lot worse for yourself. Being an address to the forefront of the culture, it's more likely that's what it's talking about. They don't expect to do things aggressively; they expect right-wingers to take the first shot so they can do everything under the guise of defense.

Update

I recommend I Am the Painkiller difficulty

6/17

I'm still reviewing the different difficulties, but I decided that if a hub structure for the full intermission map of the shareware episode was made, it should be restricted to the highest difficulty. It has to have that tension for the atmosphere.

6/18

There was a thing with Quake's difficulties where people claim Hard is harder than Nightmare because it catches you off-guard. That may be the reasoning with why 12 / 10 difficulty feels harder.

Update

They hid the Captain Morgan after the amount my dad and I had for my birthday night. I eventually found it anyway.

Honestly, between the effects on voting, effectively diminishing the suffrage of our own for good, and the dating market, if it weren't for the women question, would Anonymous hate society as much? Serious question.

There are people advocating for monarchy just because they can't shake the assumption that Republics are going to be dominated by women's suffrage, like no matter what system you make to try to salvage, in *this* social climate, it's going to turn out the same. Really, really, really really makes you want to think, because if no one does, further extremism, down the line, is eventually going to be justified.

Also, quoting

"Prices go up when demand exceeds supply, I don’t know what anyone was thinking when they imported a bunch of demand..." (slur implied)

Also, Joe Biden's still in office

Before I had a great audience, I did a thing every day, imitating someone doing this for the eventual release of MGS V: The Phantom Pain, where if Obama wasn't out of office, I would give the daily countdown of how many were left

Also around 60% of the college population is now female, relevant as of 2021

I'm just saying, back in Roman times, which were ancient Biblical times compared to our times, people could just snap in that they could walk out en masse of working. Also, there was no gay standing around with signs. They just physically did it en masse.

Allegedly Super Monkey Ball will turn you into a man. I played it on Gameboy Advance.

And this just happened, posted to the main website

Sprinter on Twitter: "Military activity noted in the United States, the Internet is jammed everywhere footage of heavy military equipment driving through the streets of American cities, and swarms of drones flying in the sky. In 11 states of the country, serious interruptions in the Internet… https://t.co/SMMuOJUDgW" / Twitter

https://archive.is/z77GN

Update

I think I know what I really wanted out of this state of mild drunkenness that I couldn't figure out beforehand. Just hear me out real quick. When it comes down to events like this happening, that means the wheels are greased, or at least it appears in my mind, and I really don't want to think about the alternative to this. If things really happened as a regular occurrence, I would have love in my heart, and I do. But, comparing to Silent Hill 4 which got brought up from the YouTube influencing days, a situation where in truth there's no viable hope, no visible future, that makes way for unabashed hatred. What I felt that one time I got drunk and noted the Kanye lyric as relatable, "no one blames the plaintiff", underneath, *that's* how I meant it. That's why a bit later I had to come down saying I don't want to have to live making rabble-rousing for its own sake anymore. That's what I'm trying to refer to. That is something bottomless.

6/19

The episode four run on Man and a Half is finally done, and the run on Last Man on Earth has finally made it to the second episode.

Update

I thought only Hoover1979's Ultra HD textures for Doom looked good as replacements to the original textures. That only works on an outdated version of GZDoom, while Project Brutality only works on a more recent version.

Update

Well, I still think the West is doomed.

Most of the situation I think comes down to what I've heard about from Common Filth about how people in less densely populated areas have nothing to do and will just turn to drugs.

Update

I didn't know what else to do, so I threw in some Warioland II in its black-and-white form.

Now I shifted back to the 12 / 10 difficulty run.

Update

The Man and a Half run is probably the more important - that is already in Doom II

Update

Today, out of nowhere, I have energy to support myself into standing position without it feeling unnecessarily painful. But life is boring.

Update

I wish I could actually be mature. I also wish I had my own thing going, that was an active process.

Wait, never mind. I don't want to be forced to do anything

Update

As a matter of fact, don't carry on with that Man and a Half run.

Update

Now that I'm intent on actually playing it, I wanted to say that the map House of Pain in Doom episode three, especially in this format, brings back not just a reminder but memories of a relatively profound dream, that I want somebody to interpret, somehow - in some capacity. The difficulty right now is I Am the Painkiller. This is the furthest map I've made it to on the highest difficulties.

Update

I might not want to recount the dream because it's overly personal or weird.

But I've been testing these different difficulties, and if you want a continual run of the classic Doom series, I Am the Painkiller is what you want. I think.

6/20

Now doing Hell on Earth Starter Pack instead. I guess do it on Painkiller difficulty.

Update

Where there's a will, there's a way. There's the problem.

People just assume the will to do anything just comes out of a can, and in reality that's anal compulsion. I don't want to promote what tumblr and the rest of the paid web sites are promoting, so

The alternative is to do things the way you would see most people doing them, which with difficult things just means being really lazy.

Basically what I heard from Common Filth, which you would have heard if you regulared, was that people in the workforce all have their own individualized ideas of what works the best and what doesn't, and none of it integrates, so nothing is really, in that sense, upward mobility.

"God is Dead" doesn't gives the specifics of the facts of the FBI and Central Intelligence Agency doing the bidding of the enemies of those in Anonymous who are actually gathering the most important central intelligence that can work to benefit this world. Of course, that's invalid because no one likes white people.

Update

I just finished Warioland II again. Actually, as soon as I started the first stage that wasn't part of the main path as part of the game's replatability, I felt the weight of that one song.

Even then, now I'm going to start Wario Land 3. This is the game in the series that got great critical acclaim as a platformer.

I was thinking, with that last event involving the big cities, if things are getting off the ground now, I might actually work on IBM Skillsbuild, as opposed to just playing video games. Even though there was a lot of information involved in the post, no one's talking about it, so it's as if it didn't happen.

6/21

Trying Hell on Earth Starter Pack again, this time on Man and a Half difficulty

Update

It just hit me, the reason Doom's software lighting has such an extreme jump in brightness only in close quarters with a surface is because it reflects the shininess of some surfaces.

Update

Alright, so that's the best we've got. We're entirely too weak a people to actually get up and do anything about the rich jew sponsored world order, and, as it stands, not only is our only publicly-recognized motivation for doing so merely obstructionist because we're jealous or something to the exact same effect as this, the rich jew sponsored world order is still the underdogs

Update

I really wish this span of time since I was born in history had never existed. It's been garbage.

6/22

Imgur: The magic of the Internet

8H3xGiy.jpg (1024×664) (imgur.com) (zoomed in)

Update

I found out the collection of data discs with media on them that my dad has is playable - or at least I got something to play - on the PS Triple, which I have set up to an old screen, which is appropriate for DVD quality, like on these discs

One of the movies stored is Toy Story 2, which was actually very highly rated

There's also some Spongebob and Bugs Bunny - I'll probably do that first since it's shorter

6/23

There are still days coming off the conveyor line

I have Toy Story 2 running while my parents are shopping, and if nothing else, I'll play Minecraft on Hard, recreating the server from scratch until I get a starting location that's halfway workable

Update

I found the Captain Morgan again. It was in my dad's office, totally drained. It's just, what do we have to do with this much alcohol in this household? None, we just dump it out.

I've been thinking a bit about personal definitive favorite game series of all time. You have your Silent Hill (by Team Silent - so technically Siren also), MOTHER, and Wario Land. Come to think of it, is Mario even this definitive? What I always heard with Mario is that you can't go wrong. With these series, it may be more subjective.

Update

Finding a common interest with my parents was kind of hard in itself. We just watched the first episodes of Futurama on hulu. After episode 2, already there was a breakoff with me, because while I'm just barely able to sit still getting ready for a break, mom apparently was just getting in the mindset that we were "binge-watching."

I don't think we're really compatible.

The worse part is what could come down to the fact that I'm being gangstalked, with people close to me bugged to go through with the worst-case scenarios of these little things I come up with to worry about - but those things are overly specific and gone like water under the bridge. My parents are actually like this, ever since before I could ever confirm narrowly that gangstalking was present. It's as if they're reacting to a mutiny breaking out, but it's not just that. It's as if a mutiny they're reacting to breaking out, not meant to result in much because they're being the better person anyway, gets just *too* out of hand, and all of a sudden, everything flips over to where there's a mutiny that's gotten so out of hand, all reason has gone out the window for all parties, and they just act as rashly as they want. Virtually every last time this has happened, which is easy to set off in all situations, not just the exceptions, it didn't become apparent that anything was going wrong until the moment they exploded, and they're always in the right because they're the parents.

I can't get into casual anything because that underlying pressurization is always there.

Update

I failed at Hard Minecraft. I can try harder, but it's like spinning tires in a rut.

For some reason, this jogged my memory and made me finally realize, things like D. Curry "The Game" and the leftist slogan "It's not rigged, you're just losing" don't have to come out, because it's what everybody's already thinking before anything even happens. It's just how conservatards, which is what they are, are perceived. I don't really know how the description of screaming that they "game" has to do with conservatism, but the only people who actually advocate for how it was in the old days are doing this, undoubtedly.

I guess what people actually get wrong is not that set of sayings I just put out there, but this assumption people have that their talking about "conservatism" is quite literally talking about modern-day conservatives. It may be worth laughing at us for, but that is not true. These are liberals, died-in-the-wool.

That reference to having sex with a girl with a good vibe, in reality, just has to do with the effective customs process you have to go through in order to become accustomed to the prevailing social norms of the time. Really, the argument ought to be framed as Old Age-ism, because the only thing that's being said is at the door with these things, saying it's outright dead, and you need to move on, QED by evidence of feelings of self-evidence in assertion, as with everything else in life, which is all consciousness constitutes. It really is.

I'm not going to take the patient route in Minecraft. At that point you may as well just turn in your theoretical license as a hardcore gamer. If there's no way to do Hard mode proactively, then you may as well quit.

Update

I always wanted to be able to have a setup in Minecraft - and this might be something autistic because it's the same deal I had with a favorite Lego set when I was still in middle school - where I knew more or less exactly what to go to for all the initial essential resources. Doing this approach works, and on console, it works up through hard mode, but on PC, hard mode is harder than what they would have ever intended for console.

I don't know why it gets to me so deep. But I do know, all my other playthroughs of Minecraft on different setups were trying to establish this method of getting a safe zone started and then building up to having the enchantments available in the most timely fashion possible. Playing on hard and failing proves I don't really have the survival guide.

Update

There are certain questions, like is it even worth it to make farming wheat a first priority? It takes too long. Find your initial food elsewhere.

Update

Okay. The first thing is virtually always to punch your first tree, to gather at least three log blocks. These convert to wooden plank blocks which themselves convert when combined vertically into sticks. The first log block should be converted into four planks which will be combined in a square to create the crafting table. The other two log blocks should be converted into plank blocks, and using those, create only four sticks to begin with. Use these resources to craft a wooden axe and a wooden pickaxe.

The next step is to use the wooden axe to gather some more wood. Since it can be converted into charcoal later, leave it in log form.

Then go digging underground until you hit cobblestone and mine that. This is how you build your real initial tools made of stone.

If it's on Hard mode, this is actually making me think about it.

In this server, I didn't find any sheep, so I ended up stealing a bed from a village. If you can't find either, then I guess you're screwed.

Ideally, have one on your home base and one on you to use wherever whenever night falls.

Yes. Use some of the log blocks, create a furnace out of cobblestone, and cook them to produce charcoal, assuming you don't immediately find coal. This will be used to craft torches.

Usually I keep pickaxe, basic stepping-stone blocks, shovel, and torches all clumped together on the item selection with the tools in the middle for easier selection.

From what I've found, wheat farming is the most straightforward way to produce a ridiculous surplus of food items, but to bypass the amount of time required to get this surplus, you need a significant amount of bone meal, which is typically only acquired by killing Skeletons. The problem with that is that these are the most difficult and annoying to defeat of the common enemies because they constantly shoot arrows. If it's the newer versions of Minecraft, they have sped up these Skeletons so that you essentially will rely on the new Shield item, which requires iron, mined from the earth, and it's usually not found near the surface.

What I have right here is a contradiction. I expect to have enough food in supply to take on these skeletons because they're just a common enemy in the caves.

I haven't even estimated how much actual food would be enough for that initial trek to hunt down enough skeletons for the bone meal.

What I tried doing was quickly getting enough iron for an iron suit, and on Hard on PC that just isn't working.

In theory I would want the iron suit before anything, because those skeletons take a toll. There is a method where you gather a surplus of log blocks to craft a surplus of sticks in order to craft a lot of ladders and then you use this to rappel down to the level that you'll find lots of pools of lava.

Realistically you find caves just by creating the hole to do this, so getting cooked meat would be good.

Have a stone sword and a separate crafting table as well. All you need for basic tools is sticks and the cobblestone you will find in great abundance in the caves.

Also, a thing I do is create manually-constructed beacons so that you can tell where your base is from far away. It usually takes two entire spaces filled with 64 blocks to make this thing high enough, because once you're at the top, you have to dig your way back down on one of the block spires. Jump and put the blocks up underneath, and do that until you can tell the thing is visible from above at least most of the treetops, or something, and then put a torch on top before digging back down.

I actually underestimated how much wood it would take to do this, because I normally make a cramped spiral staircase, which eats up the least resources, but that's also boring.

When mining straight down, you want to stand on more than just one block at a time so that you don't fall directly through in the case of a large hole in the earth, or lava.

Which is the best level to mine iron in Minecraft 1.19? (sportskeeda.com)

"Other than that, another sweet spot is underground, at Y level 16. Since players spend most of their time underground as compared to in the mountains, this is also a good easy-to-access location."

Okay, press the F3 key to display coordinate stats

I'm used to mining with at least three blocks vertically to make it more roomy, so I'm going to mine at the levels above and below Y = 16

Update

This is taking way too long.

Update

Literally, just finding enough iron to make an iron suit of armor would be enough to be considered success in getting started in this game, but there just isn't enough. I have enough for a few new tools. That's it.

Update

They didn't make Wario Land 2 so that the secret ending opens up once you complete the map from the level end games and find a shiny spot on it - it only opens up when you get every bonus game treasure and the map.

6/24

If they didn't make it so you can save and quit once you have the treasure, this would be unbearable.

At this point, I'm a bit afraid I'm going to go stir-crazy no matter what I do.

When you combine rum and root beer, it doesn't make a nice blend; it tastes horrible. I feel a bit betrayed by that.

Update

The point was made online, and I'm basically expanding on it: we have the American revolution as our example - do you need drill sergeants barking down your neck if you're already motivated to fight and die for your country? How long until we recognize this as evil whoremongering? No more brother wars, right? World War I *and* II.

The more excited I get, the more the Internet connection gets uppity.

Honestly, wouldn't that be the first logical step in establishing a theoretical white identity, acknowledging the gross injustices of the world wars fought over petty alliances?

There are some things that can be known like witnessing (hopefully not in full) the tranny surgery in action, where you then know there are doctors who would carry something like this out no different than any other surgery.

Ironically, there isn't a lot of acknowledgement of the world wars as gross injustices in and of themselves. Usually, it's made all about the fascism of the 1900s, and not so much about the centralization of power granted but the cult of personality of it.

For those who haven't heard the quote before

"You must understand, the leading Bolsheviks who took over Russia were not Russians. They hated Russians. They hated Christians. Driven by ethnic hatred they tortured and slaughtered millions of Russians without a shred of human remorse. It cannot be overstated. Bolshevism committed the greatest human slaughter of all time. The fact that most of the world is ignorant and uncaring about this enormous crime is proof that the global media is in the hands of the perpetrators." - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

The human toll of Bolshevism, which I have to stop and think about just to type out myself, makes the Holocaust pale by direct comparison, and that's monumentally more so if you don't believe the official numbers which aren't even backed by census data.

I think it goes by the wayside for most people, that quote is genuinely appealing to media as something being run by people who truly care about mankind. That's assuming an ideal world for us to live in.

This man is very quotable, and to him, this statement comes as a shock to him, whereas to most of us it wouldn't.

So I notice most of our own don't really think like that, not necessarily, not really. Those of these "Nazis" that actually own up to the fictional ideology drummed up in propaganda are just taking what has been called the "red suppository" - a lot of them are fags.

Hint: There's no help coming

Is that dismissing the whole thing? Well - technically Anonymous was mostly made up of edgy libertarians who then grew out of that phase and now don't identify explicitly as one thing or another.

The way these fantasies like the Holocaust come into being is from what has been documented of reality as the wartime abusiveness of fags, running prisons with solitary confinements.

Is that saying these fags identifying as Nazis are the real thing?

According to census data, at least 1/3 of modern jews are at least bisexual. This is according to a year before identifying with LGBTQ was as easy as signing your name.

I don't know why, but I'm of the mentality that we're in the years specified by science fiction from the 70's and so on. Where is our excuse, other than the points of diminishing returns...

A direct case can be made with the way there used to be quality content coming out of media like Disney, until they were bought out by a soulless corporation.

Unless you want to revamp the whole thing, which at that point would be more well-suited to an original company, individual efforts will just be appropriated into the corporate agenda, which is directly baited along by Blackrock.

The situation with trying to start new business based on work that just crops up organically is something dire which I haven't tried diving into to talk about.

It's, you got a license for that, you got a license for that, you got a license for that?

The reason I'm too intimidated to research it seriously is because I'm afraid that might prove too much and be touchy, when it comes to who comes out of the woodworks.

So, the perspective of the past, which is where boomers are coming from, may be "where is your excuse?", but young people today are looking at things like, what am I supposed to do?

It seems like boomers really would take Blackrock running things from behind the scenes as a reason not to work as an excuse. That's where i'm more certain actually going into the details of how the need for licenses etc. is destroying people's ability to start businesses is going to start this artificial danger for myself from people coming out of the woodwork.

Ironically, in theory, I could personally take on the challenge of all the licensing needs and fees etc., but then people in personal settings tell me all the time, constantly, about the way I do things just generally, you're trying way, way, WAY too hard.

So if you want business to be able to crop up organically, it doesn't matter if I can do it - it would be completely impersonal, by the point you actually push it through all of the corporate bookwork.

I think that's why I consider what happened to the media the best example, because you can't force that.

If anything, even if it's going to be a mockery of one, why don't we try taking "groyping" to the next phase by, openly, spontaneously debating blue checkmarks

Yes, there are inferior feelings to be felt from this. But also, who is taking them seriously?

I'm not going to personally do it because I don't want to dignify anyone in particular with a response. I'm just advocating for it to be done.

Clearly, the masses of people don't actually see the soulless corporations as soulless corporations but more like a cult of personality that they're, actually, personally a part of - what you see when you see people being busy having all the right opinions.

No one is going to take the soulless corporation stance and run with it - that's just a fantasy.

So things are just going to remain in the stagnating and breaking-down state that they are because too many people just want things to just be. The thing is, with all the people having their own personal take on advice on how things work in their own sphere that conflicts with everyone else's at some point or another, if there was an attempt at genuinely unifying this workable knowledge into something definitive - it would be a lot easier in theory just to let new people get into it and not have to make all these little things the focus.

Probably the next game I buy will be Super Monkey Ball, as opposed to Skyrim on PC when I have the PS3 version already.

Update

I finally got enough iron in Minecraft to build a full suit of armor along with the full set of iron tools, and that is because I dug and hit a cave.

Then I realized I still don't want to go in to the caves proper on hard because realistically, for food, you want steaks, and that means gathering cattle. Literally just build a fence and guide more than one in with wheat, then feed them to make them reproduce.

And since mining for the iron takes so long, that should be done first.

Update

The post that got everyone to leave

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?

Bocchi the Rock Johnson

Update

I didn't want to go out with less than 36 steaks, going by multiples of 12, and then I didn't want to go out because that was too valuable.

For some reason, the thought of achieving success by resorting to the new version of the game's deeper caves that go down to -64 blocks where it's claustrophobic to dig for diamonds gave a flashback to the way the face was used for the stalker in Lacey's games, like this is what we're encouraging for success, becoming a complete recluse.

Update

In Minecraft, we're going with 30 steaks and 60 watermelons.

6/25 night

It takes being drunk to a certain extent to think I could stomach being a schoolboy all over again like I'm going through before-school shopping.

I think the fact that I can't has more to do with the current political climate.

Update

Now here's a hopeful thought. I think what I wanted was to try to recreate that setting from grade school where things were simple enough where, if there was a formula direly needed to be known, it would be explicitly written out on the board and discussed. It was made the main focus. What I've heard since dropping out of college - with a General Transfer Studies degree in tow though - is that once you get past the introductory levels, which is where I did drop out, the majority of professors aren't even articulate enough at it to sum up courses like that from grade school. The hopeful thought from that was that, then, I know all I have to do is find a way to personally garner that articulateness. But then how do you do that? There's no one to tell you what the vital points are.

My optimistic worldview that led to the side production of my dream project sketchup was based around this idea that all things could be reduced to that understanding of vital points and thereby compartmentalized in a way that couldn't be easily exploited, even by ulterior motives from outside. Here, I just have to acknowledge, from the point I was at, at the near end of the introductory portions of college, that was the opposite of the reality.

Update

I don't want to go crazy before I can peak. I think that's the idea.

Is this even an accurate paranoia? If I take the time out to go through course material beforehand to review it before even starting to memorize the contents in order to identify what the vitals are, and I mean to my own personal extent, that would be enough to make people view my approach to the courses as an invader.

Okay, it's true that, having a higher IQ than the professors, I have a self-image that rubs off on my expectations for other people, being way too high.

Like I told my mom today, I don't talk about that much, but you could hold me to militaristically high standards; I'm so glad you don't. She said they would *never* do that, but I said that's what I'm saying: I'm glad you don't

Update

There was some quote from Ghost in the Shell 2 that I took personally which isn't really originating from it, "God forever geometrizes" - I took that to heart because in college after introductory courses, professors, what are you doing - this is exactly what I just talked about

Update

I thought if the professors are just going to do nothing from now on but give the runaround, it might be time to rely solely on the book, but with the human element of the classroom removed, I just didn't care enough anymore.

I'm sure 8th-gen gaming becoming the norm for the industry played a part in discouragement. In the end, there was no sense of competition. I was just spending my time alone.

Update

I wish I could read a book without my own thought tangents becoming an issue.

Update

I wish it was possible to cite these things in isolation from where they came from - too bad that's cheating

Find Me (Intro) - YouTube

Update much later

Why not

▶[Dubstep] ★ Koke Rutter - Valley - YouTube

May remove it before the morning

6/25

It was right when I was deciding there really isn't anything in Minecraft interesting enough to keep me playing that hasn't already on console before that the first message representing the fags appeared in the game's starting menu.

6/26 night

Man, I really want to introduce fifth-columns as part of my daily routine

6/26

Sometimes it feels like there's absolutely nothing to do. My computer system is booked up trying to transfer items to a flash drive in a way that is really inefficient, and other than that there is IBM Skillsbuild, there posing as the education into the job market that was always going to be the end-all-be-all.

It's like there is no reality except for what can be gotten out of significant efforts, and we're just here scraping away at the surface.

I can't just go out and have a job that isn't from home. I'm getting severely, severely gangstalked.

Is there any mindset in which information can be retained? Because every time I try to read through new information ever since failing out of college multiple times, now it's traumatic, and I just feel like I'm digging through someone's trash.

Update

Real talk, was it a waste of time to worry about humanity? It just seems like all of their thoughts are wasting their time. And I mean people from other cultures like Haiti just killed off the white people living there, lived wearing the clothes the white people were wearing at that time, and then starved afterward and blamed the white people. Yes, there are injustices that go on there led by politicians like Hillary Clinton to exploit funding and so forth, but are they deserving of sympathy?

6/27 night

One thing that was mentioned, which is something found when the phenomenon of reuploading footage of the old beta showcases happened, was that Mother 3's design was intended to follow in the footsteps of Mother 2, with Belch being part of the main advertising, by being an experience that actually creates a sense of disgust, being attributed to all of the things happening. That's something I think they should have pursued even in the final game. Still, how would you do that on Gameboy Advance? It doesn't sound like you can.

Update

I should write it down in case I forget after today. What Larry Fink said about distancing himself - socially? - from ESG, notably his own damn creation - that comes at a direct coincidence with the fact that I just then had taken that stance on videogames if what Minecraft's new version just pulled was going to be across the board from now on in some swoop of agenda. In the back of my mind, I know something's up.

I've had pop-up news of George Soros with targeted expressions in these past years since summer 2021. That's why I don't think of these actors as independent anymore. Like gangstalking bugging that happens with people in person, there's no stimulation that would be causing these reactions as things play out in real time. It's thoughts being directly ported, in a way that's not even conscious to them.

Update

The way "pride" is presented in context with our modern world, you would think it is part and parcel of being a Christian in the classic Biblical sense, that the Sexual Revolution is just now reviving.

I've been thinking for the past day or so, if people in general have this manner of thinking, does it really matter that these particular agendas have been playing out? We've been of the mindset that the Sexual Revolution is 21st Century Christianity since the 21st century.

Where were you when you realized "pride", as an reminder of how far we've come, is an adage to this fact and this fact alone? "Always has been"

To liberals, that would seem obvious.

That *was* what they were saying, wasn't it?

6//27

The fact that the current state of public discussion is tolerated shows that it's been over for many, many years, let alone any Agenda 2030. We can't just get up and walk it back. For reasons that exist in the minds of modern contemporary people, it's justified or something. I don't know what they're talking about. I've never seen their arguments stand on their own, but they come from a different reality.

Thinking that has less to do with failure so much as the fact that this is just dealing with a very mediocre people.

And yet here they are, with their savior complex, when they continue to not know shit from Shinola

I just meant to say Republicans.

Well yeah, isn't that what everyone's thinking? Yeah!

Life doesn't have a meaning. We're just going to sit here and hog the podium belligerating Republicans, and being self-projecting in that respect

Every day sucks worse than the last, and that's because you can't get off your ugly ass. Yeah, that's right.

The last major shill post, which is where the Larry Fink story was introduced, was this bizarre low-quality post by a office shill worker posing as a Satanist insider where they took up what I said and was thinking about the military and said you can do nothing but go off and join their military, meaning if you so much as take up work, it's for them unequivocally.

This is what I mean with paranoia, the paranoia I have - it's not the literal subjective interpretation in and of itself but the actual inroads that are then going to be created, having used that as a greenlight and a stimulus, with new narratives across the board, because of me.

Update

From now on, let's just do the honest thing and have a segment of "you know you've lost when..."

When the most meaning you can get out of doing anything that doesn't directly translate into serving the tax farm complex is the equivalent of that psyop with Nazis smearing shit on the bathroom stalls

Update

We're trapped in one particular point in time. There's no getting out

Update

Well, you can say that when I act like liberals are of a different universe, that's not even valid because any of us could make any given argument and have it logically stand, and then declare "the time has come to be reasonable" and realize everyone else is in a different reality.

There are no gears intermeshing between white nationalists or whatever they're supposed to be called and the human population.

Literally, it was my *intended message* that got called out as "grifting", as merely a *proxy* message, for whatever severity it is in "*consensus* reality". Otherwise, the meme wouldn't have had the steam that it did to have initially happened.

So - why don't I understand - consensus reality?

Because it's fake, and up a man's ass.

Okay but by coming out with that real, you're doing pride's favor by denouncing Republicans, as is said bodily function. You act like that's a joke, but no, it's not

Update

The fact that people like Larry Fink make public statements shows that there is a significant enough amount of the population to eat up this bullshit.

Update

The United States is a broken people. I may have inherited this, but I'm not going to pick up the pieces. It's customary to just expect you people to by yourselves, when that's what's never going to happen. Why? Because you live in an alternate reality where everything is just through the TV hobby

I think the problem with that is I don't have anything better to do. Apparently the enjoyability of anything is actually contingent on a real world situation mirroring it, in some way or fashion. Now there isn't. I'm just going to sit here and eat ass.

You suck and are also gay

I don't know why I just thought of this, but Silent Hill 4 made a supposed big thing out of Walter Sullivan having his "mother" at the center of his secret universe. That never really pans out, but that happens to be the name of the final boss of Siren 2.

I remember Common Filth went to some length about the psychology of "mommy worship" - I don't *know*

Update

It seems like no matter what context you're in, if you're a white nationalist, all you have to do is come out saying just forget everything because I'm already despairing, and everyone will come out of the woodwork in unison and this hilarity that comes suspended in euphoric ecstasy over the stated facts that you're just now coming to grips with the conclusions everyone else's already made thousands of years ago, only just today, and now it shows, whatever they're making out of it that makes them act so much, like this.

In reality my state is more like the Family Guy episode name "If I'm Dyin', I'm Lyin'"

But in reality everyone is out of control. I don't know what to do with them

So that is true, I'm legitimately giving up

Reality is a consensus. You can augment it with any little motion of expression.

Life is boring.

The best argument for making this debacle of taking back the West spiritual and not simply racial is the angle Common Filth gave about how early Christians were almost always made up of peoples of multiple ethnicities. That works because that's granting that the early Christians would have actually adhered to the Biblical teachings against racemixing.

Is the real reason everyone bashes conservatives that it really does keep coming down to, we just need to kick out the niggers? "Oh, well what makes *you* so important?" Dumbasses

And of course they think by taking up that route I'm bashing *conservatives*, in their footsteps, like they can't envision logically anything else, and that stands - I'm literally like a fish out of water

And, then, that one song "Small D*ck" by Filthy Frank referencing the meme makes it sound like it's a warning to this when they say "their dicks are much bigger" - that's been disproven; in fact they're smaller. That can't be what it is they're getting so big talking about. They say, in the capacity of the liberals' "listen and believe" - so *not* listening - you have to "listen". "*Listen*"

That event that got the "Propertarian" movement to quietly break up where one of the leaders got confronted by a black activist and just pissed his pants - was that a psyop? There doesn't seem to be any organic reason for him to do that.

It's things like this - when something like Kyle Rittenhouse happens, it's like it's inevitable that something like his cucking out crying on live camera was going to autonomously happen. He crossed the line of, muh sacred *blacks*

My Internet locked up for a bit for this. Forget who's *advocating* for violence - things like Kyle Rittenhouse are what's *organic* - isolate the people getting all uppity - what makes them so special?

Update

In its current state, it's easy to just dismiss or distance Christian religion as a motivator. The racial issue is closer to what it is: calling a spade a spade.

Honestly, if religion pertains to this as a conflict, it would apply *to jews.* That is Biblical.

Update

Well, there's no disputing that with the industry in its current state, the remake of Silent Hill 2 was exclusively with defending the eternal metrosexual in mind, where MGS3 and anything else would just be icing on the cake *after* the fact. Anyone who disputes this is an invalid, says a liberal.

Update

I've never actually mentioned this angle on it before, even though I brought it up too much - Denzel Curry's "The Game" would apply to the way people who are still doing the stuff of Silent Hill 1 and 2 aren't actually up to speed with where the culture is at and are basically there to just be fetishizing.

Update

In reality, Silent Hill is supposed to be an intellectual series. That's why in Whitopia its status as liberal is undisputed.

Actually, that's where I actually understand where people are coming from blowing up, saying the Republicans *aren't intellectual!*

Yep, they just won. And I'm just going to sit there like a dumbass.

You have right-wingers doing "you'd think it's a typo with these red lines and periods", and then they just go off and keep grifting some more I guess

Yeah, that's right - these people who will just be blowing out the gates with "in the name of the Loard!!!" are stupid *idiots* - we have PTSD from doing with this

Basically, Silent Hill 2 nu-version will just be hand-having what the movement is - and they're going to *keep* doing it

Saying we just want to make sure - we just want to make sure

Right. We can't deal with these Christians anymore. We've had too many terror attacks.

Jeeze, we *literally cannot stop* these people from blowing through our gates saying "we want freedom! We want freedom!" Jesus Christ, do you even know what liberty means? Freedom and the pursuit of happiness! That's what open sexuality means

*Freedom of expression*

I don't know what this means, but I just know that this is what it feels like

Bottom line.

The Christians are going to destroy everything.

Honestly I don't think they're gonna do anythi- no.

Until we destroy the right-wingers, we'll never be free of our anxiety

[archive-double-knots]

For most of his life, capri lives on his own on the streets,

eventually, he starts to harass big capri  ( @PLASTICSOULED​ ) into having a ‘sleep over’

he doesn’t exactly tell people he doesn’t have a home, or parents. He’s been living on the streets most of his life since he left the ocean, so he doesn’t realize it’s a bigger deal than it is. He knows better than to tell people because in the past, the police were called. Little capri didn’t realize that was to help him, and thinks that he’ll get in trouble because people get mad at him so often.

little capri also is used to stealing clothes off lines & taking food off tables & taking coins out of fountains and such to pay for things. he’s a lil criminal out of need, and he doesn’t exactly realize there’s something wrong with that, even when people point it out. He’ll kinda just stare at them, because he doesn’t get it. He needs this stuff more than they do, so why are they so mad? 

Then big capri basically forces him to move in and now he has a home

thinking about lil capri directly after he was found out & they literally cut off his leg during his escape, and the fact that lil capri had to try and take care of his wounds himself, and the fact that he would wrap his own wound up, and he would travel across the ocean by himself– putting as much distance between him and the site of the accident until he finally washes up in Portorosso

and big capri is the first person to actually take care of him, and so little capri gets attached, deeply. he doesn’t ever voice it for a LONG time, but little capri loves big capri both as a father, brother, and best friend.

little capri is allowed to be a kid because for once someone else is looking out for him and so he acts like a kid, but there are times he just goes silent because his past catches up to his present in his mind but then he hears the bell of the gelato shop and a grin breaks out across his face and he’s okay again

because even if he’s not accepted by the world, or even by anyone, he’s accepted by big capri and that’s all that matters to this lil dude and in this essay i will–

Little Capri forms his first attachment to big Capri and it’s originally solely based on their names. Eventually it becomes more than that but for real his first fucking attachment to another living person and it’s because they share a name and I can’t—

casual reminder that CAPRI NAMED HIMSELF. his family died when he was v young (around 3) and he just didn't have a name in his memory. he’s pretty sure he had one, but doesn't remember it. he just panicked as a lil kid when someone asked his name and said where he was from and just said it so much it became true. (he left the grotto at around 5 years old, and lived on land as a ‘human’ since.)

but so basically:

Capri’s family (mom, dad, and sibling) left the grotto and never came back when he was three. Capri assumes they died, but honestly, he doesn’t know

he lived on his own between 3-5 years old

at 5 he finally made his way to a port town and lived there as a human

at 12 his true sea monster nature was found out and he lost his leg

by 13 he’s living in Portorosso on the streets

By 13.5 he’s attached to big capri’s hip lol

He often refers to himself as a pirate, and also jokes that “having a peg leg is the real pirate experience”

He calls Sal’s Capri “Big Capri”, but refers to him as ‘’my big brother’ when talking about big Capri in third person to someone outside of his usual circle

Capri is also super excited that they share the same name. He’s probably gonna make some shirts with their name written on them.

Before Capri lived on land; he was actually born in the Blue Grotto on the isle of Capri. This is where he lived and took care of himself until he was about the age of five, at which point he finally left.

If you haven’t realized, this is where Capri got his name from. He doesn’t know his birth name nor family name. He knows he was born in the Grotta Azzurra. He knows he’s from Capri. When a human asked his name, he panicked. And simply stated his name as CAPRI GROTTAZZURRA. Smudging the Italian words together, and hoping it was believable. It wasn’t. However, the humans took it as a child playing make believe, or simply misunderstanding his parents actual family name. Either way, it stuck. And he never bothered to change his answer. It’s not like he had a family to tell him otherwise.

Capri was raised by himself. He knows he had a family, and he can sort of remember them, but he knows they’ve been gone almost as long as he could talk. He knows he had two parents and he thinks he had a sibling? Maybe two? But Capri doesn’t know what happened to them. He lived on the streets taking care of himself for as long as he’s been walking.

Capri is v excitable and therefore tends to forget about the whole monster and water thing. He remembers he’s not supposed to let other people know. He just forgets that *he’s* a sea monster. This is due to the fact that he doesn’t go in the water. He doesn’t live as a sea monster. He lives as a human. He says he’s human so much he starts to believe it. 

And beyond that it’s really easy to forget about smaller things that he sees other children doing. Such as reaching into the fountain to grab a coin, or sticking his nose into a pot of recently watered flowers. 

This changes by the time he gets to Portorosso, and he’s more aware of it. At least, until he meets Big Capri, then his excitability starts to come back because he knows he has someone else to protect him. 

I forgot to mention in his bio that his leg was,,, more of a deliberate ‘accident’. Someone discovered he was a monster and tried to capture him. He got away but lost his leg.

anyway, capri is ILLITERATE

he NEVER went to school, even the compulsory primary school was not something he attended due to being on his own & living on the streets.

now, being 13, he’s AGED OUT of mandatory school, and living in portorosso most adults (roughly half of italy’s voting population at the time) are illiterate in the small town anyhow, so it’s not much of an issue for him

He does however, start to recognize a few words. such as ‘gelato’ thanks to big capri. he still can’t read, but he certainly pretends he can around Big Capri. he knows the shape of ‘gelato’ and of most of the flavors, so he’s gotten pretty good at faking it 

capri does know how to sign his name...kind of

he has a MARK that he uses as his name, even though it’s not directly written as ‘capri’ it is a mark that he can use in place of his name.

Little Capri bites people. That’s just canon. He has sharp teef and he’s not afraid to use them.

[el-patito-de-los-ojos-triste]

From botanical asks.

Bird of paradise, apricot drift, queen's cup, blazing star (but only if you want)

bird of paradise; what was the best thing that happened to you this month?

Well at the start of this month I got to go to the ocean for the first time ever. It was really fun and expensive but fun!!

apricot drift; how do you feel right now?

I'm tired and sore. Working hard every day this week :p and yesterday I got home from work and cleaned every bit of my townhouse, then stayed up till 12 playing dnd (first session in a new campaign). So I'm tired but doing pretty good

queen’s cup; what are you craving right now?

Hmmm.... Like food or in general? Butt, good butt, uhhhh I wanna go to karaoke but money is still blown from ocean trip. My next dnd session (Saturday, I'm the dm and the players just finally hit the really exciting shit after like 5 months of playing). That's about it :v

blazing star; share a secret.

I tried really hard to think of like a positive one but i really dont have any :c so here is sad one i suppose. I'm doing like really good now, and im generally happy in life, maybe content is a better word Idk. Things arent perfect but they're not like hopeless and miserable like they were before, and im really getting to try and be me, and that's nice. But the more i do that, the more some part of me wonders why I'm doing it. I still dont have any like actual ambition. I still have all these painful memories and like more or less permanent injuries reminding me of everything that's gone wrong. I still recognize that I'm actively working every day to build a life where i can be happy when i genuinely dont care about that, I just know that im supposed to want it so im doing it. It's all just a big charade for everyone else's benefit and I kinda dont want to keep it up anymore.

EDIT:: I HOUGHT OF A GOOD ONE!! When work was still allowing overtime and junk i had extra money and i was helping a couple long time friends of mine make their bills (one is single, one is married with 2 kids). They really needed the help but the only way theyd agree to take it is if i agreed to let them pay me back When they could. I didn't want to keep tabs on what friends owe me, it feels icky, and also i Didn't want more debt hanging over them so i gave them this whole spiel on theyve paid me back every time i helped in the past, so i know they intended to and that's enough for me, their friendship is more important than the money blah blah blah and told them i wasnt going to accept any money back. Now money is really tight cuz work made a ton of cutbacks out of nowhere right when i got back from beach trip. They each owed me like 4 or 500 dollars, but I wont say anything to them (and still give them gas money when they need it) because i want them to be okay

[prismatic-bell]

So the other day I said a thing about how I felt like a line could be drawn between antis, and the rise of 24-hour news networks. I’ve given that thought some time to bubble to see what, exactly, my brain meant by that statement, and here’s what I’ve got:

When I was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1990s), we had three major news stations in my town: Channel 12, Channel 24, and Channel 35. These corresponded to NBC, ABC, and CBS, but I don’t remember which one was which so don’t ask me. Anyway--you had a half hour of news at 8 or 9 am (depending on which station you watched), an hourlong program at noon in which half the program was stuff like “here are today’s beach closures and some recipes and also if you’re looking for stuff to do with the kids this weekend here are local promotions,” and half an hour at either 5, 5:30, or 6 (again, depending on which channel you watched). One of the three stations also did a half-hour capper at 10pm. So unless you were watching all three stations, and picking the news every single time, the max amount of news you were going to get was like an hour and a half. If you wanted more news than that, you read the newspaper. When my mom was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1960s), this would have seemed like an inordinate amount of news--for her, it was half an hour at 6pm and ten minutes at 10pm and then the station (there was only one station that did the news) played the National Anthem and went off the air until 6am, at which time you might get like . . . the weather and a traffic report.

For anything else, you read the newspaper.

Now with only half an hour to present a whole lot of news, what are you going to do? You are going to stick to the facts. You don’t have a choice. You have a very short time to fit a whole lot of information. “Notre Dame cathedral caught on fire today. French firefighters are working to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. In local news . . . “ And that’s it! If you want more information, you’ve got to wait for the newspaper in the morning, and you’re going to have to get a copy of the New York Times or USA Today, because the local paper will only have a blurb, and that blurb will mostly cover what you just heard!

But then the news changed.

By the time I was a teenager, the non-cable news looked like this: All three channels had a morning show that started at 5 or 6 am (depending on your station) and ran until 8 or 9 (depending on your station). The station that ended at 8am then had a half-hour morning news show. The mid-day news at 11 or 12 was still an hour. Channel 35 did a half-hour news segment at 5 and another at 5:30, back to back. The other two stations simply did an hourlong segment. And then one station did half an hour at 10:30, and the other two did hourlong segments at 10pm.

What do you do with that much time? Well, you expand. Yes, you can fit more news, but you can also fit more about the news. “Notre Dame cathedral in Paris went up in flames today. The fire began in the famous historic bell tower, and spread to the roof. At this time, portions of the roof appear to have caved in, and there are concerns about the integrity of the medieval stonework in the cathedral walls. French firefighters have been working since 8am Paris time to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. Some firefighters are also helping with this project, as portions of the building have become too unsafe to enter. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation late this evening and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. Of the cathedral itself, Somebody said, ‘Our Lady has weathered worse troubles than this. Paris as a city, and France as a nation, will overcome.’ In local news . . . ”

Still facts, but a few more facts. At this point the internet as a public thing is just past its infancy, and in theory you could go look up some stuff on, like, AOL, maybe, about what was happening.

(Nina, you were talking about antis . . . ?)

(Yes, I was. Bear with me.)

But at this point you also saw the rise of Fox News and CNN.

Now up to this point, I could trust the news. That is important to know. “Nina, American news is full of propaganda--” Listen, you’re not wrong, but the point is, if Scott Brennan told me Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics, I could safely assume Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics. If Channel 24 told me “the blizzard of the century” had occurred the night before, I could look out the window of my snowed-in house and go “yeah, that seems legit.”

I grew up, in other words, in a world in which facts were facts. We didn’t waffle or wring our hands over whether or not Notre Dame was on fire. And this allowed me to take a similar approach to fiction: it is a fact that murder is wrong, and knowing this, I can read a book in which someone commits murder for very good reasons, but still know they did something wrong.

But now you have 24 hours of news to fill.

No matter how you pad it, no matter how many voice clips you play or retrospectives you do, you cannot find enough news in the world to fill 24 hours, seven days a week, 365 days a year. You just can’t.

So they started adding “opinion pieces.”

Notre Dame is on fire--is it worth saving? Notre Dame is on fire--but is it as big a catastrophe as it’s made out to be? Notre Dame is on fire--but France has been steadily calling themselves a secular nation, so is this the punishment of G-d? Notre Dame is on fire--

--wait, what was that?

Yep. You saw it, I saw it, we all saw it. But as the “opinion pieces” slowly took over the regular news and stopped being called “opinion pieces” and started being called “programs,” it became less and less clear what was and wasn’t fact.

Now obviously Notre Dame is on fire. But now we have to ask ourselves: is it worth it to save it or not? Is the financial cost outweighed by the history? Will those answers change depending on how bad the damage becomes? And you, lonely elderly person in your chair whose predominant socialization these days is at church, how does this make you feel about French people? These are questions that once would have been asked of the church caretakers and the French government. Now every single person is being asked to think about them, without being provided all of the context that is available to the church caretakers and the French government. And along the way, you get these nice, nasty little bits of prejudice and slanted thinking and bias sneaked in.

I told you I’d come back to antis. And here we are.

The vast majority of antis are very young. They grew up in a world where those “programs” were the norm. They were not provided with a cultural basis of “these are the facts.” They were provided a basis of “here is what I think about the facts.” They were provided a basis of, as Mr. Banks said in Mary Poppins, “kindly do not cloud the matter with facts.”

There are no facts! Who fucking cares! An anti who’s 15 years old today was eleven years old when we were introduced to “alternative facts”! Is it wrong for a 27-year-old man to pursue a relationship with a 13-year-old girl? Depends on which news channel, and which presenter, you ask!

They literally grew up in a world in which critical thinking was discouraged. Once upon a time, you would have seen on TV that Notre Dame was on fire, and at dinner--or whatever your family did for together time--you might say things like “going to be expensive to fix that, I wonder what they’ll do,” but you wouldn’t have been hit with six presenters telling you exactly why Notre Dame should/shouldn’t be rebuilt. And don’t forget--even if you, personally, do not watch the news (or read it on the internet, which is just as bad, because everybody’s after those elusive advertising clicks, everybody needs the “scoop” two seconds before it happens), you know people who do. You hear their opinions and their hot takes and their retellings all around you. And those  opinions and hot takes and retellings will be colored by which “program” that person saw first.

Watch the first thirty seconds of this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn2RjahTi3M

Walter Cronkite, a legendary news anchor, giving his opinion on Vietnam. You will notice that he states, very clearly: “it seems very clear to this reporter.” This is Cronkite’s opinion, nothing more, and he makes it clear that he is speaking only for himself.

Now skip to approximately 1:05, and watch him report the Kennedy assassination. You can see he’s emotional, but also keeping it under wraps as best he can because he has An Important Job To Do, and that job is twofold: to deliver the news accurately and concisely, and to keep the American public calm (you can see this when he hurriedly says Johnson is probably taking the oath to become President; a missing VP would be a crisis at this moment). This is a man who’s just found out the most beloved president in modern times is dead. And not just dead--murdered. It’s not like Kennedy had a heart attack, his damn head was blown off. This news is still coming in so quickly that you can see him glancing off the screen to get fresh reports. He’s one of the first to receive this absolute blow--and he’s still holding it together, barely wavering. (When I was a kid, this role would go to Dan Rather. He was no Cronkite, but he tried.)

Where is that kind of rock for today’s teens? Imagine--heaven forbid, in the state our country’s in right now--that tomorrow we get the news Biden was shot.

How would we get that message?

Would it be delivered by an even-keeled, just-the-facts reporter like Cronkite? Or would we get it from a bunch of half-hysterical articles and crisismongering “programs”? And would it be delivered to us straight, like Cronkite did, or would it be buried in three days’ worth of opinions on his “legacy” and policies and What This Means For America?

Now: how are you supposed to build any kind of strong convictions and moral compass on a world like that? Where anything can be true if enough people have an “opinion” on it? Where the facts get immediately buried in a wave of bullshit?

Antis are reacting to a world of “opinions” and “programs” being thrown at them 24/7 by trying to create a world they can control, where there are in fact things that are true, in a world that has actively refused them the opportunity to learn how to parse and process facts. And so what they’ve come up with is this grossly distorted version of facts, because gross distortions of facts are all they know. It’s all they’ve ever seen. They’re perpetuating a system they don’t even realize they’re part of, because they never experienced life before it existed.

They’re not lying when they say they were heavily influenced by fiction because the bounds between fact and fiction have been actively erased. On purpose. And it’s difficult to grok that, if you grew up in a world where you didn’t have to go seek out photographic evidence to be absolutely certain that Notre Dame was, indeed, on fire.

So what we need to be doing, first and foremost, is rebuilding that wall of facts, that line of truth. Otherwise, what we’re going to see is more of this, but getting worse daily.

We set them up for this, and now we’re paying the price for it.

[fandomout]

heya! can i request lots of lip gallagher angst please? i love what you write and need him in my life </3

Thank you so much! I'm not sure when I'll be able to make more Lip angst or Lip fic's, but I'll be sure to try when I get an idea. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one. 💜

Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth

Warning! Mentions of virginity and sex, but there is no actual smut. Slight fluff. Lots of Angst. Not sure if this has been done before. If it has, credit to them, and this is my version of it.

Smiles and laughs grace your best friend, Lip, and you can't help grin just because he seems happy. He tells you about his recent endeavors at college, specifically how he’s having the greatest adventures with his professor, Helene. When you 1st heard about this mysterious woman, you were initially livid, on the inside, of course. You wanted to know everything and nothing about her all at once. However, just like always you had to find a way within yourself to support Lip’s happiness. You always hold onto the friendship that’s graced the both of you with each other. Also, you couldn’t help internalizing Lip’s trauma's and emotions throughout the years. He deserved to go to school and become even greater than he already is, and although you couldn't always stomach the thought of him with someone else, you’d support that too to see him be loved. You were as it goes hopelessly devoted to Lip, so you hadn't really dated too much. Nothing could ever get serious when you’d hold him in your heart.

🖇

One day, you were at Lip’s dorm helping him clean up a bit when Lip seemed to really catch the fact that you'd apparently been single for “too long”. You scoffed at Lip and asked, “What’s that your business for?” He laughed at the comment and added, “I just want you to be happy. I mean we don’t get as much time these days. Me in college and with…” He smiled and looked off to space. You mouth her name as he says, “Helene.” You roll your eyes at it and shake your head and bitterly say, “I don’t need to be with someone to be happy.”

“I get that, but maybe you’d seem a little...a little...better?”

“Better?”

“You just seem a little down lately. Seeing as you won’t tell me what it’s about, I’m just trying to find an all around solution because I care.” His hand finding your shoulder.

”I’m doing fine, really. You're just so up in the clouds-”

“I want you up here too.” You sigh as the words are a rubber band to the heart as you wished he meant together...

“Lip, I don’t need someone.”

“It doesn't have to be serious. Just get laid.“ His insistent nature angers you to shout, “I can't! I’ve never-” You stop yourself too late. Your virginity has never been a topic of concern. You both just glossed over it. To you, it never seemed like Lip knew you hadn’t gotten that far, regardless, you never wanted it to be made so clear. Silence passed between you two before he started to laugh and said, “You’re fucking joking.” You looked down to your feet, which was when he actually believed your words. “No shit. No fucking way! You haven’t gotten laid yet!”

“Want to scream it out any louder! Shut the fuck up!” He laughed before he held his hands up in surrender.

“That’s crazy to me.”

“Of course it is. You bang anything that walks. Lip-”

“Even with any of your s/o’s, you never-”

“No! I'm a virgin. No big deal!”

“Yes. I just find it hard to believe nobody would try. Did they?”

“Maybe once or twice, and I shut them down.”

“Not good enough for you.”

“Something like that.”

“People are fucking stupid. You are hot, and it surprises me there aren't any more.”

“It's the story of my life.”

“What?”

“Getting overlooked.” You said simply before continuing to stack a book on a high shelf.

“Come on, that can’t be true.” He turns you toward him. “I see you unless I see dead people.”

“Haha.” You grin.

“I’m serious though. When you walk into the room, it’s brighter. Maybe you catch the attention of shy people. Maybe pay more attention?”

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

🖇

You were on your way home late at night when you got a call from Lip. You answered and immediately thought it was a bit late.

“Hey!” He said a little off.

“Lip, what’s up?”

“Just need a drinking buddy.” You hear a bottle crash on his side of the phone.

“You doing okay there?”

“Yup! Having the bez time.”

“You already started drinking without me. Where are you?”

“I think I’m on campus on like a lawn-can’t remember which one.”

“I’ll be right there. Stay on the li-” He hung up. You jumped a fence and ran all over campus with no sign of him, and he wouldn't take you calls. You finally found him toward the back exit of the campus. He was swinging his body silly with heavy footsteps. You rushed over to support him. Immediately, he detached himself. A pout on his face with slumped shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He laughs dryly.

“Come on, sit down.” You have him sit on the curb and wish you brought him a bottle of water or something. “What’s this about?”

“Helene...She’s married. She has a kid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This must be shocking to hear-”

“I already knew.”

“What do you mean you knew?”

“These past few...weeks? Weeks, I think, I knew. Hell, her husband watched us-Well, watched us fornicate.”

“Gross.” You couldn’t help but say. He shrugged at your reaction, not really being able to defend that truth. “You agreed to it?”

“I did, but I feel her pulling away now. I haven’t changed anything though.” He turns quickly toward me like he’d get whiplash. He points his finger to his chest and hits his chest aggressively as he says, “I’m me! I’m still giving her everything I have!...It leaves me in a funk.”

“You want to be with her that badly?”

“Yeah.”

“But, it doesn't feel so good.”

“Right.”

“You know why?”

“Yeah. I just said she has-”

“I didn’t mean the family thing.”

“Then, why?”

“You should try a relationship that’s more meaningful.”

“This is meaningful to me.”

“I meant a healthy meaningful.”

“Who are you to tell me?” He said it harshly.

“You’re right. I have no right to tell you what’s meaningful to you. You have to admit you're not in the best situation.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d rather have nothing than search for something. I think your standards are too high.”

“Trust me, they're not that high… Top 3 are honesty, communication, and trust.”

“Hmm ...You want to tell me something?” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m all three of those for you. I must be your dream guy.”

”You could be, except it wouldn’t happen obviously.”

“Are you sure about that?'' He found himself saying.

“Here we are talking about your women, I’m sure...” You bite at your lip. Your thoughts stop when you see a few tears branching out of his eyes. You comb your hand through his hair. As he looked for more comfort, he wanted to lay down. You convinced him to let you get him to his dorm. He allowed you that, and he cried himself to sleep on your lap. He snuggled into your leg while you rubbed his back. You’d already had a distaste for Helene, but now you really couldn't stand her. She’d been fooling Lip, and she still had the power to keep going along with it.

🖇

After the incident, Lip wanted to act like it didn’t happen. He had told you that they were working on it. He even said it might be the closest thing to a relationship he’s had. You wanted to be there for him, but you had to admit you couldn't support this harm. There is a difference in this case to supporting him. You didn’t want to be a part of any longer. You kept quiet about it initially since she’d only done “one” wrong by him, according to Lip. He talked to you less and less it seemed after it. You tried your best, but something always seemed to come up. You’d get calls from Ian or Fiona that he’s drinking a lot which worries you and hasn't attempted AA when they think it's becoming a big issue. Finally, you confronted Lip on the street.

“I can't talk now.” He said. You didn’t let him push past you and stated, “No. You are not ditching me once again. You have stuff going on. It probably has to do with that woman-”

“Helene. That's none of your business.”

“None of my business?” You look at the bag under his eyes. He reeked of alcohol on his disheveled clothes. “She’s ruining you, but that’s none of my business? What happened this time?” He took out a cigarette and lit it before he sniffed and gave you a side smirk.

“I just maybe happened to beat up her son after I thought she cheated on me with him. Isn't that funny?” He giggled and hiccupped.

“Why were you upset? You were fine when she had a husband to cheat on you with.”

“That was different. Anyway, I see you’re upset about the lack of time I’ve been spending with you, but I can fix it. Let go for a drink.'' He put his arm around your shoulder and was probably leading you to Kev and V’s. You removed the arm and snapped, “What you need is some water. You’ve had enough.”

“What do you mean I haven’t drunk today?”

“Tell that to your breath and clothes. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think this conversation is stupid and remember why I was trying not to talk to you.”

“You did it on purpose?”

“I just knew you’d get all worried for nothing.”

“For nothing? She’s not good for you to begin with. Lip” You hold his hand and softly say, “Lip, She was your professor and married.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Lip-”

“I love her! She sure is a hell of a lot better than the ones telling me otherwise. You have no right to judge me. Take a look at yourself!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Helene was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”

”Stop!...I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.” As he saw your tears and hurt, he sobered up slightly and said, “Wait-” You quickened your steps to get away as fast as possible. He tried to follow after, but his drunken body wouldn't allow it as he reached forward and fell right on his ass. "Fuck!"

Hope your day got better

Part 2 Lip realizes his mistake

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