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#dear diary emotional bullshit

screaming--agony · 2 years

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Dear Diary,

My patience for bullshit is unsettling thin. I’m trying to manage and cope before I hit my breaking point. But my god is thin about to shatter.

27 notes · View notes

emotionalechoes · 7 months

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The guilt

“She hears people talking about their family, sees it online when they talk about how much they love their family, sees it on TV shows. When she compares it to her family, she doesn’t care for them. She can’t find it in her to care for them. To her, they’re strangers. What she feels for them is no better than a stranger that she greets. Sometimes she stares at her parents, wondering if they’re really related to each other, because she feels nothing towards them. The phrase 'Adult Co-habitants' is what she’d use to describe their relationship. She shared living spaces with them, but that’s it”

(A quote from “The guilt of feeling nothing for your parents.”)

#feeling nothing #numb #this is not a cry for help #emotional unavailability #dear diary #personal blog #personal blah blah #personal bs #personal bullshit

0 notes

potatoetree · 8 months

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Tried out incorrect-quote-generator again here's some of my favorites!

Mumbo : I have a bad feeling about this...

Grian : What do you mean?

Mumbo : Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?

Grian : No?

Scar: That actually explains so much.

Grian , acting tough: You guys don't want to mess with me.

Scar: Yeah, Grian will straight up cry in public. Don't try them.

Grian : Exactly, I will straight up-

Grian :

Grian , tearing up: Scar, why would you say that?!

Mumbo , texting group chat: What flavour of ice cream do you guys want? I’m at the store so be quick!

Grian : Moose Tracks is good!

Scar: What the fuck is that!?

Grian : *Gasp* How dare you insult moo-

Scar: No. No no not that. What the hell. Why do you spell flavor like flavour. It’s like you have flavor but then this guy shows up and is like “Oui Oui Would you like chocolate flaVOUR or vanilla flaVOUR.

Mumbo and Grian : what?

Scar: I don’t get it why add the EXTRA u when it’s PERFECTLY FINE AS IT IS!?

Mumbo : You done now?

Scar: Yeah ok.

Mumbo and Grian : ...

Scar: ...Can I have the Mint Chocolate chip flavour?

Boatem Addition!

Scar, to Grian : When was the last time you let someone hug you?

Grian : *thinking*

Grian : 2012.

Pearl : 2012…?

Grian : Yeah. I almost died and it really freaked Mumbo out so I let them hug me.

Mumbo : *gets a text* Oh! It’s Grian.

Impulse, excitedly: Did they get me the stuff?

Mumbo : Yeah, they say they got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood.

Impulse: Wow! Where’d they find 12 gallons of fake blood?

Mumbo : You wanted fake blood?

Impulse:

Mumbo : I’ll go call Grian.

Grian : I’m in love with you.

Mumbo : We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Grian : I know.

Mumbo : Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Scar: If I run and leap at Grian , they will most certainly catch me in their arms.

Scar, running towards Grian : Coming in!

Grian : No! I’m holding coffee!

Grian : *Drops coffee and catches Scar*

Scar: Are you mad?

Grian : No.

Scar: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Mumbo : Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.

Scar: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.

Grian : Wasps?

Grian : Terriers?

Mumbo : Grian.

Grian: *Laughs* Babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing—

Mumbo : We’re married.

Pearl : I haven’t slept in 72 hours…

Mumbo : I haven’t slept in 80. I’m the insomnia king!

Grian: Ha! I haven’t slept in 90 hours, I’m aiming for an even 100.

Impulse: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

Scar: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Grian: What? I'm not aggressive!

Pearl : Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips?

Grian: Survival of the fittest, bitch.

Pearl : I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.

The Squad: Awwww-

Pearl : And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

The Squad: Oh.

Scar: I am Scar, I speak for the trees. Chop them down and I snap your knees.

Impulse: Just be careful, Scar!

Scar: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Impulse!

Scar: It's everything around me that's careless.

Mumbo : Grian, is that legal?

Grian: When there's no cops around, anything's legal!

Pearl: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!?

Grian, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Scar: Hey, Mumbo. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Mumbo: To get to the other side?

Scar: You were supposed to say “I dunno, why?“

Mumbo: Uh... fine. I don’t know. Why did it cross the road?

Scar: To get to the idiot’s house.

Mumbo: ...Ok?

Grian: Hey, Mumbo. Knock knock.

Mumbo: No.

Grian: You were supposed to say “who’s there?”

Mumbo: Fine... let’s get this over with. Who’s there?

Grian: The chicken.

Mumbo:

Grian:

Scar:

Mumbo: Listen here you little shits-

#hermitcraft #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #incorrect hermitcraft quotes #boatem

271 notes · View notes

supernaturalscribe67 · 9 months

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Just Like Mama Used to Make

Words: 6,178

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: John x Son!Reader - Dean/Sam x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, John Winchester, Fluff, Mention of Childhood Trauma, Mention of Death, I think that's it??

Summary: Taking inspiration from his father, the reader starts his very own journal. For his first entry, he recalls some of the memories that shaped him into the hunter that he has become.

Request:

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request John/Dean/Sam Winchester reaction to having a brother who looks like their mother and picked up hunting like breathing?

@xweirdo101x

A/N: My very first request! It kind of got away from me, but I really hope that I was able to do your request justice. Hope you like it!~

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Hello

Hey!

Dear Diary

SEPTEMBER 2014

To be honest, I have no idea how to start something like this. I was never one for writing, nor have I been one who can easily express my emotions. I guess I got that trait from the Winchester side of my family. Still, I have thought a lot about Dad’s journal lately. The things that he wrote down. It’s not detailed. It’s nowhere near what it was like growing up with him, but it still provides Dean, Sammy, and me with some information and nostalgia from time to time.

So, I figured ‘Why the Hell not’, I might as well write down some things in my own journal. I’m going to die someday anyway, and I want people to read this and be able to see what my life was like. From the good times that I spent with my family to the bad times when I lost my family. Hell, maybe this journal will get me into a history book someday when someone else discovers the Men of Letters Bunker. Who knows. Maybe I’ll be famous after I die, or perhaps it’s just wishful thinking.

This journal has already turned into a clusterfuck. I don’t even know what to write about. I can’t even think of things to write about. Should I say things about my life? Should I just write down random things I think of throughout the day? I don’t know how to do it. Even when I look at Dad’s journal for inspiration, there’s nothing to inspire in it. A lot of it is notes on how to kill monsters and other stuff is just a bunch of personal bullshit he was going through.

Well, we were all going through it.

I guess I’ll start by writing down some of the memories I’ve had. If I don’t like it, then I’ll throw this journal away and start another one. I don’t want future historians to think of me as some scatterbrained moron, despite what Sammy and Dean say at times. If you’re reading this now, I’m actually the smartest Winchester brother. Don’t believe a thing Sam and Dean say. I’m the brains of the operations and our day-to-day lives. I’ve saved them more times than I could count.

Then again, they’ve probably saved me just as much.

Alright, I’m getting side-tracked. I guess I’ll just start writing.

Should I introduce myself first before I do so?

My name is (Y/N) Winchester. I’m a hunter.

This is my story (God, that was terrible)

AUGUST 1991

I remember the first time I mentioned to my father that I wanted to be a hunter, just like him. I was six years old. Dad didn’t take it very kindly. He yelled, a lot. Screamed sometimes. I never truly understood why he would always get so upset whenever I would ask him to teach me how to hunt.

It wasn’t until I was a man that I understood why.

I look just like my mother.

I don’t know how I could have been so blind all those years. I have her hair. I have her face. I have her smile. All of these things have been said by my father before. Not necessarily when he was sober. I was always the one person that reminded my Dad of his wife. Of my mother. I think a part of him wanted to keep me safe, just so he could always look at me and remember what she looked like. Even when I was a child, though, I could see the hurt behind his eyes every once in a while when he would look at me. It made me feel guilty.

Still does.

I know that none of it is my fault, that he made himself hurt.

Still…

For months, I would ask my Dad to teach me about hunting. To teach me about the monsters that crept through the darkness. Each time I asked, he would reject my request and I would get scolded for asking such a stupid question.

So, one night, around the age of seven or eight (one of the two, I can’t remember exactly), I decided that school wasn’t very important. There were occasions when I snuck out of classes to go to the library of whatever town we were in at the time to search the limited amount of lore books that they had. There were times when I got caught by Dean before I was able to sneak out. Other times it was by Sammy. Sometimes, my father would get a call from the school because I had been reported missing.

I was a problem child, as you could tell.

It’s not that I hated school.

It just wasn’t my favorite.

And I wanted to hunt.

So, anyway…from town to town, I would skip class, go to the library, and learn everything that I could learn about hunting if there was anything to learn. Sometimes, I would ask Dean questions. Sometimes he would answer, other times he told me to not worry about it and to mind my own business. It used to hurt whenever Dean would reject any of the questions that I would ask, but I know now that it was so he didn’t get in trouble with Dad. I remember giving him a hard time about it, about not answering me. Dean, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for being a jerk.

Then again, Dean, if you’re reading this, you shouldn’t be reading this and expect some glitter to appear in your body wash.

No one knew about my secret research. No one knew the reason behind my skipping classes. I would constantly make up lies, most of them being about how much I hated moving around and just wanted to rebel against my father. Typical kid stuff.

It wasn’t until August of 1991, when I was ten years old, that I was finally able to put that research to use.

(Y/N) stared down at the paper that rested on a notebook in his lap. His eyes were wide and filled with stress, fingers tangled in his short hair, his back slouched ever so slightly. Dean sat a couple of inches away from him near the end of the bed, his homework in his lap, while Sam leaned against the headboard, a book in his hands that he had gotten from the school library. Dean looked up from his work, noticing the look of despair on his brother’s face before he glanced down at his worksheet. Dean grimaced and let out a hiss.

“Multiplying fractions?” He asked, a hint of sympathy in his tone.

Without looking up, (Y/N) gave a short nod. Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line before he set his pencil down beside him.

“Do you need help?” Dean offered.

(Y/N) lifted his head and looked at his older brother, giving a small, soundless nod. Dean offered a smile as he moved closer to him so that they were sitting next to one another. Dean craned his neck to be able to look at the paper, tilting his head as he studied the equations.

“Which one are you having problems with?” He asked.

“All of them,” (Y/N) answered.

Dean snorted. “Okay, so, it’s easy-”

“Wow, Dean thinks math is easy?” Sam mumbled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Dean lifted his head and glared at Sam. “Shut up, bitch,”

Sam shot a bitch-face towards Dean. “You shut up, jerk,” he retorted.

(Y/N) let out a frustrated grunt. “Will both of you assholes shut up!? I don’t understand this!” His voice was filled with annoyance and desperation.

Dean and Sam shot their brother a look. Sam rolled his eyes as he returned to the book. Dean looked back down at the paper, mumbling an apology under his breath. He then began to help (Y/N) with his homework, walking him through all of the problems that he had. (Y/N) still felt as if Dean was speaking in a foreign language, but he could understand the homework a little easier.

When the paper was halfway finished, the door to the motel room suddenly burst open, causing the three brothers to jump, their eyes wide as they turned and looked at the person who had just entered. John stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him. He stomped over to the couch that sat in front of the small television set and plopped down on it. He ran his hands down his face and let a small growl emit from his throat.

Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) shared a glance, almost as if they were communicating telepathically. After a while, Dean and Sam both turned their attention toward their brother, their eyes locked on his. After looking back and forth between the two, (Y/N) let out a soundless sigh as he set his homework beside him. He moved off of the bed and padded across the aged carpet to the couch. Slowly, he walked around the sofa so that he could see his father.

John looked tired. Dark circles were prominent underneath his eyes. One of his legs was propped up on the couch while the other lay bent in front of him. His elbow rested on the arm of the sofa, his cheek placed against his right hand as he stared at the television in front of him. Nothing played. When (Y/N) came into view, John glanced at him out of the corner of his eye for a brief moment. He said nothing.

“Hey, Dad,” (Y/N) greeted. “Um…how were the, uh, interviews with the victims’ families?”

John shook his head. “Not great, kid,” he grumbled.

“No?”

“No.”

As (Y/N) stared at his father, he timidly moved over to the couch. John hesitantly moved his leg as (Y/N) sat down next to him.

“Did you…learn anything?”

“Why aren’t you boys in bed?” John grunted.

“We’re finishing our homework.”

“Then shouldn’t you be working on it?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched. “I just…wanted to see how it went is all…”

“You want to know how it went?” John’s voice got deeper. “You really want to know how it went? Fucking terrible. That’s how it went,” John straightened himself out on the couch before he stood up. He began to pace around the room, his tone of voice getting more and more irritable. “I thought I had a good fucking lead going. All of the victims went to the same fucking bookstore a couple of days before their deaths and got the same book. Seems like a fucking coincidence, right? Then I go to the goddamn bookstore to see what the book was and all it was was something called Aradia or some shit like that. Some type of foreign book bullshit, I don’t fucking know.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as John continued to rant. He looked down and away from his father. He got lost, deep in thought, the words that John was speaking irrelevant to him now. Finally, he turned back to him, kneeling on the couch as he raised his brows.

“Did you say Aradia?” He questioned in the middle of John’s rant.

John stopped pacing around the room as he looked back at (Y/N). Dean and Sam’s attention immediately turned to him, their eyes wide. John’s jaw was clenched, the anger and irritation still emanating from him. “Yeah,” he replied deeply.

“Aradia…” (Y/N) trailed before he shook his head. “That’s not a foreign book, Dad! That’s only the first half of the title. The full title is Aradia or the Gospel of the Witches. It was one of the most influential pieces of literature in the nineteenth century to witches! You’re dealing with a witch!” (Y/N)’s eyes widened as a smile appeared on his face.

John’s expression went from furious to confusion. He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about that book?” He questioned.

“I read about it in a library a little bit ago.” (Y/N) answered quickly.

John pressed his tongue into his cheek as he slowly nodded his head. He looked at Sam and Dean, who were still staring with wide eyes at their brother, and then back at (Y/N). He ran a hand down his face stressfully.

“You boys finish your homework,” he mumbled as he walked towards the door. “I have to make a call.”

Without allowing anyone to respond, John left the motel room, closing the door behind him a little gentler than when he entered. (Y/N)’s smile faded as he watched his father leave, his shoulders dropping. The three brothers sat in silence for a minute before they looked at one another.

“Come on,” Dean said as he patted the spot on the bed next to him. “Let’s finish these math problems.”

Even though Dad never told me, I knew I was right. I knew it was a witch that he had dealt with. We didn’t even get to go to school the next day. He had found and killed her before I was able to turn in that math homework. What a waste of time.

I would like to think that Dad was proud of me in that situation, but he never said anything. He never brought it up again as far as I can remember. It was something that he had put in the past, along with all of the other hunts that we had been on. However, even if he wasn’t proud of me back then, I was proud of myself. Proud that I was able to help my Dad even if I wasn’t beside him when he took that bitch down.

God, I hate witches.

MAY 1993

I didn’t touch a gun until I was twelve years old. By that point, I had stopped begging Dad to teach me how to hunt, because it seemed that the only answer I was going to be getting was ‘No’. I figured that I would go to the next best person for the job.

I had to ask Dean.

Dean was very protective of Sammy and me when we were younger. He still is super protective of us, even in our ripe old ages. But because of how protective he could get, he was very hesitant about teaching me how to shoot a gun. However, with Dad talking about Dean going on hunts with him more and more by then, I knew that I would be left alone with Sammy. I used the excuse that I needed to learn how to shoot a gun eventually so that I could protect the two of us when we were by ourselves. I couldn’t be expected to be safe when the only two people who knew how to shoot were away.

That reasoning caught Dean’s attention.

After the fifth or sixth time asking him, Dean had finally agreed. A couple of days passed and, when Dad was a couple of towns away gathering information for a hunt, Dean and I skipped school. Shocking, right? I think Dean used the excuse that I hadn’t been feeling well and he had to take care of me. He even wrote out a fake doctor’s note and everything. Back then, you could get away with a handwritten note. I’m not too sure if you could now.

Once Sammy had been dropped off at school that day, Dean and I walked to a creek a couple of miles away from the school. He had set up a couple of cans on a log, some recycled stuff that he had picked up along the way. He had brought one of Dad’s small handguns with him. When he gave it to me, it felt so surreal. So different.

I never really understood what the big fuss was about, though.

Shooting a gun was easy.

“No, you can’t have your hand that low! You have it that low and the gun is going to come out of your hand when you shoot it,” Dean grumbled.

Dean took (Y/N)’s hand in his and adjusted it so that it fits perfectly onto the grip of the handgun. He then took his other hand and placed it on top of the one that was already on the gun. (Y/N) furrowed his brows as he looked at the way his hands nestled against one another.

“This doesn’t feel right.” He said. “Why can’t I just hold it with one hand like the cops do in the movies?”

“Because you’re twelve, dummy. You’re not in your forties and have years of experience under your belt,” Dean rolled his eyes. “And that is exactly how you should hold it if you don’t want to get hit in the face with your weapon after you fire it.”

(Y/N) listened intently to what his brother was saying, giving him a small nod before he straightened his back up.

“Stop.” Dean held up a hand.

(Y/N) shot Dean a confused look. “What?”

“You’re standing wrong.”

“I’m standing wrong…”

“Yeah, here,” Dean walked over, pressing his hand against the top of (Y/N)’s back ever so slightly, leaning him forward. “If you have your back too straight, then you’re more likely to fall backward. You also,” Dean kicked (Y/N)’s feet apart. “Need to have your feet apart. Keeps you more ground.”

(Y/N) looked down at the ground for a moment, taking in the appearance and feel of his stance. The way his back leaned forward and the way his legs were spread. He nodded.

“Okay, now I shoot?”

“Is your safety off?”

“Safety?”

Dean sighed, moving back over to him. He took the gun from (Y/N)’s grasp and flashed the left side of the gun. “You see this little trigger?” When Dean received a nod from his brother, he continued. “If it’s facing side-to-side, that means the safety is on. That means the gun won’t fire. All you have to do is flick this little switch,” Dean turned the safety off. “Once it’s up and down, then that means it’s ready to fire.” He handed the gun back to (Y/N). “Now, get back into position.”

(Y/N) glanced down at the safety mechanism on the gun for a moment before he nodded. He got back into the position that he was in, spreading his legs apart the same length Dean had and slouching his back forward ever so slightly. Once he received a nod of approval from Dean, (Y/N) lifted his arms, cocking his head to the side. He aimed at the can farthest to the left. He closed his left eye and placed his finger on the trigger.

“Stop!” Dean said more abruptly.

(Y/N) jumped and moved his finger off the trigger, standing up straighter to face Dean. “What!?” He asked exasperatedly.

Dean shook his head. “You can’t have one eye closed.”

“Why not? Snipers do it!”

“Because snipers are far enough away from combat. They need to look through a scope to get a good shot. You, on the other hand, are feet away from whatever monster you’re dealing with. What happens when you’re facing more than one monster? You leave yourself open to being taken out on your left.” Dean’s tone was stern, yet calm. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded as he grasped an understanding of Dean’s thinking. “Both eyes open?”

“Both eyes open.” Dean backed up a bit. “Back into position.”

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath before resuming his position. Legs spread, back bent, arms up, head tilted, both eyes open. His goal was to hit the used can of peaches that sat on the outside of the log. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest from anxiousness and anticipation. He was surprised the gun wasn’t shaking in his grasp.

His eyes were on the cartoon peaches that were etched onto the label of the can. More specifically, the pit that sat in the center of the peach. He wanted to hit the pit. He never moved his eyes from the pit as he took a deep breath, his shoulders rising. Finally, as he exhaled, his shoulders dropping, he pulled the trigger.

The can flew into the air and seemed to dramatically and unceremoniously fall into the creek. A small splash echoed in (Y/N)’s ears, accompanied by the ringing of the gunshot.

One thing that (Y/N) noted was that his hands ached, both from the vice grip he had on the gun and the recoil that he hadn’t expected. Sure, Dean had informed him about it before, but he wasn’t sure how it would feel. His hands would definitely bruise.

(Y/N) lowered the gun, looking over at his brother to see that Dean wore a stunned expression on his face. Dean’s mouth hung open as his eyes were glued to the can that lay in the flowing water. (Y/N) watched in silence as Dean walked over to the can. He reached down and picked it up by the opening, wincing from the heat of the bullet hole before he swapped hands. He studied the can. It seemed like too much time had passed before he turned the can so (Y/N) could see.

(Y/N) had gotten it on his first try.

The bullet hole?

Right in the pit.

(Y/N) raised his brows, a mixture of pride and surprise coursing through him. A wide smile appeared on his face. Similarly, a smirk appeared on Dean’s lips. Dean chuckled before he tossed the can into the water.

“Beginner’s luck,” he said, brushing his hands onto his jeans. “Let’s see if you can hit the other ones.”

I shot through the rest of the cans, the same as I had done for that can of peaches. Not to toot my own horn, but I was a natural when it came to a pistol. I don’t mean to sound egotistic about this, but Dean can back up any statement that I’m making about this story.

I could tell that Dean was proud of me that day. He never said he was, but the way he looked at me and the way he treated me afterward told me things that words couldn’t. It’s hard to describe, but it almost felt like he had gained some respect for me that day. It felt good. Even as I am writing about this story, I can’t keep the smile off my face. I always looked up at Dean, so it feels great to think that I had done something to bring a smile to his stupid face.

My hands hurt like hell after it was all said and done. I had gotten a couple of bruises near the thumb on my right hand that I brushed off to my Dad as something that I had picked up when I got into a fight at school. Dean had backed me up when Dad got on my ass about it. Dad told me that I had to get along with the other kids so I didn’t give the wrong impression at the schools I went to. It wasn’t like they would remember me anyway. Of course, I didn’t tell him that. I knew when to bite my tongue.

Dad never found out about the shooting practice. I get a feeling that he had a sneaking suspicion as soon as he took me to practice himself years later, but I never told him about it. I never told him that Dean had been the one to teach me how to stand correctly, or where to find the safety of a gun. I know that he knew it was Dean. A part of me wonders if Dean ever got in trouble for it, or if it was something that Dad even brought up. I would never ask Dean about it now, though.

Some things are best to be left in the past.

NOVEMBER 1999

By the time I turned eighteen, I had already been on several hunts with Dad and Dean. The majority of the time, though, I would stay back and watch Sammy. Even though he was a teenager and had the capability of taking care of himself, Dad expressed that he was still a kid and needed to be looked after. A part of me thought it was bullshit at the time, but another part of me was glad that I was able to spend time with my younger brother.

Now, I know the real reason behind my staying with Sammy was because some of the hunts that Dad and Dean went on were ‘rough’. A little ‘too hard’ for me.

Dad didn’t want to lose the son that reminded him of his wife.

At least, that was what Dean told me, and I believe him.

It was a blessing and a curse, come to think of it. There were times that I stayed behind and Dad called me up, needing me to do some research for the case that they were working on. He had said it would be faster if someone was working on the research while he and Dean were out taking interviews. In the end, it was more efficient. I would gather the necessary information and hand it off to him and they would be back at the motel a lot quicker than if they had been the ones to look up the information.

That was the system that we worked with for a while. After a couple of months, Dad informed me that he didn’t want me to do the research anymore. He wanted Sammy to be the one to do it. I remember him saying that Sammy needed to focus more on the hunting aspect of his life. That school was just a waste of time at that point. He was old enough to get into it.

Sammy hated the idea when I told him. He loved school. He was always such a nerd. Still is. An even bigger nerd if you can believe it. I knew how much school meant to him, and I didn’t want him to be discouraged from doing his schoolwork. He shouldn’t have been forced to do anything that he didn’t want to. So, I decided that I was going to do the research and just tell Dad that he had been the one to do it. Sammy was thankful.

That was until Dad called.

Dad wasn't as stupid as I took him for most of the time. He knew that Sammy hadn’t done any of the research, that I was the one that did it all. By the time he and Dean got back, he gave Sammy a verbal lashing. I tried to defend him, but nothing worked. In the end, Sammy gave in. He would do the research for the next hunt.

Like clockwork, when the next hunt rolled around, with Sammy and I staying back at the motel, Dad had called. He had given Sammy the information that he needed to research and we headed off to the local library. Once we got the necessary books, we took them back to the motel and he began to work.

I could tell that it wasn’t going well.

Sam sat at the small table near the motel room door, two books placed in front of him. His back was slouched as he looked from one book to another, flipping through pages frantically. He had been going at it for several hours by then, evident by the bags that were present underneath his eyes and the redness around his pupils. (Y/N) sat on the couch, watching some old western show. Now and then he would look at his little brother. He could see how tired and stressed he was about the entire situation. (Y/N) had never seen Sam that stressed out before, even when he was studying for a test in one of his AP classes.

Eventually, Sam pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, lowering his head, as if accepting defeat. (Y/N) studied his movements, and, after he saw that he had not moved in a while, he decided the best thing to do was to help him out. He picked up the remote and turned off the television before tossing it aside. He stood from his spot on the couch and walked over to the table. He grabbed the spare chair, pulled it beside Sam, and sat down.

“Having some trouble?” He questioned.

Sam’s shoulders rose and fell as a sigh escaped his lips. He removed his hands from his face and placed them into his lengthy hair. His eyes were cast down towards the table. He stayed in the same position for some time before he looked up at (Y/N).

“No,” he answered, pulling the books towards him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I said ‘I’m fine’,” Sam repeated through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) studied him with an expressionless face. Sam kept his eyes down, looking from one book to another. (Y/N) was able to see the stress that was emitted from his brother even better with how close he was sitting. He took one look at the books before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry Dad’s making you do this.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be doing this alone the first time…” he trailed. “But if Dad found out I helped you-”

“You’d get in trouble, and so would I. Yeah, I know.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips. “You know, it took me a little over a year to get comfortable with translating Latin. I sometimes screw up from time to time.”

“Still?”

“Yeah, still,” he chuckled. “That’s why I got something that helps me out now and again.”

With that, (Y/N) stood from his spot on the chair and waltzed over to the bed in the far corner of the room. Beside the bed sat his black duffel bag. He picked it up and placed it on the bed. He began to rummage through it, sorting through clothes and weapons that rested at the bottom. Wedged into the corner of his bag sat a book. He picked it up and brought it over to the table. He took a seat next to Sam once more and placed the book in front of him.

Sam furrowed his brows as he studied the cover. It was a Latin-English translation book. It looked rather similar to the one that he had picked up at the library. The only difference was the color of the cover was a little faded and, along the outside of the book, between all of the pages, were multi-colored Post-it notes. Each Post-it note had different letter combinations on it, as well as notes written on some of them. Sam opened the cover and he raised his brows when he saw that the first page was replaced by a notebook-sized piece of paper, taped to the front page. There were multiple words in English on the left side with their corresponding Latin translation on the right.

“What’s this?” Sam asked.

“It’s a translation book I picked up a couple of years back at a bookstore. I figured since there were going to be a lot of things that needed translating, then I was going to have to make it easier for myself to find the words. The only problem is that most of these translation books are so damn compressed that it’s hard to find certain words without getting blurry vision. So, I took the liberty to mark down all of the times when the letters change in the words. For example, when the words that start with ‘AB’ transfer to words that start with ‘AC’. It always made it easier to find. Plus, I made a page at the beginning about common words that I have found in my research so that it would be easier to translate them.”

As (Y/N) explained, he gestured with his hand toward the book. Sam listened intently, taking in all of the information that he was given, nodding his head. Once (Y/N) was done talking, Sam looked down at the book and then back up at him.

“You did all this?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Crazy, right?”

Sam snorted. “Yeah. Wish you put that much effort into your homework when you were still in school.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) leaned back in his chair and lifted his hands in mock surrender. “School was fine and all, but this is something I enjoy, and I’m good at it. I’m good at hunting research and you’re good in school.”

“And what’s Dean good at?”

“Being a pain in the ass.”

Sam smiled widely, his dimples more prominent than (Y/N) had seen in a while. After a beat or two of silence, the smile faded as he looked down.

“I wish Dad could see that I’m good at school.”

The corner of (Y/N)’s mouth curved downward. It was his turn to look down at the table. He reached over and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder comfortingly. “I know, kiddo,” he mumbled. “But Dean and I both see how much of a nerd you are. Don’t worry.”

A smile returned to Sam’s face, but it wasn’t as happy as the last one. They sat in silence for a little bit before (Y/N) lowered his hand and Sam moved back to the books.

“You got it from here?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yeah, I got it,”

“Great,” (Y/N) said as he stood from his seat and patted Sam on the back. “Call me over if you need anything.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to call you over when I get to the part about multiplying fractions.”

(Y/N) glared at Sam and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“No, no I’m not.”

Sammy still teases me to this day about not knowing how to multiply fractions. Even though it was decades ago at this point, he still likes to tease me about it. Little shit.

With my help, Sammy was able to get the translations done a lot faster than he expected. I remember seeing the relief on his face when he had finished. Poor kid was so exhausted. Dad was more than pleased when he called and asked about it. Dad never found out that I had helped him out a bit, and neither Sammy nor I were planning on telling him. I just wanted Sammy to have an easier time than I did when I was first learning about research, specifically translations.

In the end, I would have to say that Sammy is better than me when it comes to research. He’s taken the reigns on many different hunts because of how proficient he is with technology. I’m good with old-fashioned ways of research, but Sammy’s the nerd when it comes to computers.

Sammy has told me once or twice, though, that I was the one that helped him the most when it came to his knowledge of research. That, without my help, he wouldn’t have been as good at it as he is now.

I call bullshit. Sammy has always been a smart kid.

He could do anything he put his mind to.

SEPTEMBER 2014

This is all I can write at the moment. Dean called me to the kitchen a couple of minutes ago saying that dinner was ready. I need to wrap this up before he or Sammy comes in here and sees what I’m doing. I know that I would get endlessly teased about keeping a ‘diary’. I need to make sure to hide this in a good enough place where neither of them will find it if they go snooping through my room.

Sam, Dean, if you guys are reading this, I’ll get you back.

But if you’re going to read it, I just want to let you know that I love you guys.

Not that I’m into chick-flick moments or anything.

I’m just glad that I have you guys as my brothers. No one could ask for a better family than you two.

Okay, that was cheesy. I wish I wasn’t writing this in pen so I could erase it.

Dammit.

I’m not too sure how to end this, so I guess I’ll just write again sometime when I can. Perhaps I could do like Dad did in his journal and write about all of the new monsters we have discovered over the years. Or maybe write more memories down. This journal is going to be so cluttered that no one is going to want to read it. There’s no way I’m going to get famous from this.

Dean just called me to the kitchen again.

Until next time.

Happy hunting. (That was stupid, think of something better).

WE LOVE YOU TOO - SAM + DEAN

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nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius · 1 year

Text

TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 10

Crosshair, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. Echo: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.

Crosshair: I’m a multitasker! Crosshair: I can disappoint fifteen people at once.

Echo: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED! Echo: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY! Hunter: Echo just threw a tantrum about a chair. Hunter: I just won Echo Tantrum Bingo.

Crosshair: How the hell are you still alive? Tech: Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.

Wrecker: If we’re in trouble, just throw Echo at the problem, and hope for the best.

Crosshair: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Wrecker: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk. Echo: Go the fuck to sleep Wrecker.

Hunter: Don't break someone's heart, they only have one. Crosshair: Break one of their bones instead, they have 206 of them.

Hunter: What’s it like being tall? Omega: Is it nice? Echo: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? Wrecker: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Echo: Everyone, calm down! We're grown-ups, let's deal with this like adults! Crosshair: So, we're just going to wing it and hope for the best? Echo: Obviously. Now, Tech, pass the shovel.

Echo: I desire moisture. Hunter: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Crosshair: I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes.

Hunter: Hey, Tech? Can I get some dating advice? Tech: Just because I’m with Phee doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

Echo: What's the most efficient way to burn calories? Omega: Exercise more! Crosshair: Set yourself on fire. Tech: There are two kinds of people.

Wrecker: Go big or go home! Echo: Please, for once in your life just go home. I'm begging you. Go. Home. Wrecker: I'm going big!

Tech: I’ve organized your messages into three categories. Tech: “From Crosshair” Tech: “Death Threats” Tech: and “Death Threats From Crosshair”

Echo, gently nudging Wrecker aside with his foot: Wrecker, move out of the way so I don’t trip on you. Wrecker, his eyes enormous: You kick Wrecker? You kick his body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for Echo! Jail for Echo for One Thousand Years!

Crosshair: Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Wrecker! Hunter: So Wrecker knows about this? Crosshair, walking away: No, this is between me and me!

Crosshair: Given the circumstances, I will let you hug me for four to five seconds. Omega: Forty five seconds?!? Crosshair: No! I said four TO five seconds. Omega, hugging Crosshair: Too late.

Tech: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Wrecker: I failed my safety training course today. Omega: Why, what happened? Wrecker: Well one of the questions was "In case of a fire, what steps would you take?" Omega: And? Wrecker: Well apparently "FUCKING LARGE ONES" isn't an acceptable answer.

Hunter, to the Senate: You can take away my rights, but can you take away my lefts?

Wrecker: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth. Hunter: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth.

Crosshair: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you. Tech: Being a fish. Crosshair: Well, shit.

Cody, to cadet Crosshair: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up! Crosshair: *proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away* Hunter, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Crosshair cute or small.

Wrecker: What if mayonnaise came in cans? Tech: Well, that would suck because you can't microwave metal. Echo: Good morning to everyone except these two people.

Tech: *seductively takes off goggles* Wow, you’re… blurry.

Wrecker: We need to distract these guys. Hunter: Leave it to me. Hunter: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Echo & Tech: *immediately begin arguing* Wrecker, watching in horror: Oh, this. I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

Crosshair: *About to do something incredibly stupid* Hunter: I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

Tech: I am going to need you to swear- Crosshair: Fuck. Tech: Tech: ...swear as in promise.

#incorrect bad batch quotes #incorrect quotes #the bad batch #tbb #star wars #bit shorter one this time because uni but i still wanted to make it #tbb incorrect quotes

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clowny-frankhie · 10 days

Text

Hi strangers! I 'm currently going on a Disney movie marathon for the 3rd part of my RIDV AU fic, so here are some incorrect quotes while you wait.

Tags: @demodemo909, @imtryingandtired, @missmannequin.

(Thank you guys so much for showing appreciation for the dumb Disney Villains AU I made on a whim, and I hope these even dumber incorrect quotes can entertain you while waiting on the next part!)

Warning: The usual, cursing, OOC, and itty bitty inappropriate jokes. Also, it's long, like, really long. I had too much fun with these quotes, and it shows.

Hey hey! Life in the Villain house! Oh yeah! Life in the Villain house! Reader! Life in the Villain house!~

(If you understood this reference, I am both sorry and not sorry at the same time)

——————————————————————————————

*Disney Villains suddenly appearing before you*

You : I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Our dear host is playing hard to get.

Gaston: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

——————————————————————————————

You : *Venting endlessly to Hades about your week*

Hades, every once in a while: *In a monotone* Wow, that is so wild.

——————————————————————————————

You: Wake up! The sun is shining!

Cruela: What do you want me to do, photosynthesis?

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: I love you.

You: How many people have you said that to?

Gaston: Everyone.

You: What?

Gaston: I told everyone that I love you.

——————————————————————————————

You: Look guys, I need help.

Ursula: Love help?

Hades: Financial help?

Captain Hook: Emotional help?

Oogie Boogie: Help moving a body?

*Everybody looks at Oogie Boogie*

Oogie Boogie: What?

——————————————————————————————

You, to Jafar: How do you tell someone politely you want to hit them with a brick?

——————————————————————————————

You: Why do you keep a diary?!

Captain Hook: To keep secrets from your computer.

——————————————————————————————

You, filling out legal paperwork: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Maleficent: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Oogie Boogie: Personally, I think I was made in a lab.

Hades: I just straight up spawned, lol.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook: *Slowly pushes a 17th-century cannon into a modern bank* Okay, everyone, be calm. This is a robbery.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

——————————————————————————————

You: All of your existences are confusing.

The villains: How so?

You: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you guys upsets me.

——————————————————————————————

You: As a responsible adult-

The villains: *snickers*

You: ... As a responsible adult—

——————————————————————————————

You: I don't like bugs. Oogie Boogie, are you even listening to me?

Oogie Boogie: I seem to have misplaced some of my bugs.

You, at Hades (aka your personal flame thrower): HAADDDEEEESSSSS!!!

——————————————————————————————

*Talking on the phone*

Hades: Remember how I said that the gang and I were gonna have a calm night out for once?

You: ... Yeah?

Hades: Well, we’re in jail.

You: *Hangs up*

——————————————————————————————

Hades: *Gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Hades: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me. Literally.

——————————————————————————————

You: Something tells me Oogie Boogie's going to be a bit more unhinged today...

*Meanwhile, in the villain house*

Oogie Boogie, holding a lit match and a bag of cheetos: Leave me be, the host isn't home to stop me, I'm going feral.

——————————————————————————————

You: COMPANY IS COMING! I WANT THIS PLACE LOOKING LIKE DISNEY ON ICE IN ONE MINUTE!

You: GASTON IF YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR BED THROW IT AWAY IT'S TOO LATE TO MAKE IT NOW!

You: GET RID OF THE COUCHES, WE CAN'T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE S I T !

——————————————————————————————

A complete stranger, looking at the disney villains who are experiencing and interacting with the outside world for the first time: Those guys look like a problem...

You: Yes, but they’re my problem.

——————————————————————————————

You, looking at the villains: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook, drowning in crocodile infested waters: Help me host!

You: Don't worry, I heard cowards float.

——————————————————————————————

Grimhilde: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?

You: It was autocorrect.

Grimhilde: Autocorrect wrote, "You're so hot. Please step on me."?

You: Yes.

——————————————————————————————

You, talking to the villains: As you know, I keep a list of all of you in order of how likely they are to betray me.

Oogie Boogie: Where am I on the list?

You: Well, I can’t tell you that because then you’ll quickly move up or down depending on your reaction.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Dinosaurs aren't extinct. I mean, Grimhilde is walking in this room.

You: *Wheezes*

——————————————————————————————

You: HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE!

You: *Aggressively throws water bottles*

Hades: Uh... What's up with them?

Jafar: They're trying to yell mental health and wellbeing into us.

You, aggressively shouting: I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU!

Captain Hook, crying: It's working.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.

You: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor, and it ain't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Dr. Facilier, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win, you should have tried not being poor.

——————————————————————————————

Scar: I prevented a murder today.

You: Really? That’s amazing! How did you do that?

Scar: Self-control.

——————————————————————————————

You: Holy shit, Hades, do you know what this means?!

Hades: Babes, whenever you start doing this, nobody knows what you mean.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston, throwing their head into you lap: Tell me I'm pretty!

You, unphased and stroking his hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Why don’t they find me sexy when I bite my lip?

Hades: What do you look like when you bite your lip?

Gaston: *Bites lip*

Hades: ... Have you considered biting your bottom lip instead?

——————————————————————————————

You: *Fills up bottle and drinks from that*

Jafar: *Brought 4 bottles of water so this wouldn’t happen*

Shan Yu: *Drinks straight from the tap*

Hades: *Dehydrates*

Scar: *Drinks from the puddle of water on the floor*

Oogie Boogie: *Licks the tap, doesn’t even need a drink*

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: *Looks over your shoulder and at your laptop* What the fuck?

You: *Slams screen shut* It’s just research! For something I’m writing about! I swear that’s it!

Dr. Facilier: Why the hell would that involve the breeding habits of frogs?

You: It’s not just “frogs”, it’s the Surinam Toad. And it’s not “breeding habits”, it’s how they raise their young. This is important information my audience needs to know!

Dr. Facilier: That doesn’t change the fact this is for one line in a fanfiction.

You, offendedly: You don’t know that!

Dr. Facilier: I don't hear no denial.

——————————————————————————————

You: I love cooking breakfast. It makes the whole house smell like bacon.

Grimhilde: That’s true, but it also smells like fire and panic.

You: Hades and the smoke detector need to get off my case.

——————————————————————————————

Hades, grinning: Before you were what?

Maleficent: Before I was-

Hades: What?

Maleficent: Before I was inter-

Hades: Before you were interrupted?

Maleficent: Cut me off one more time and I swear I'll-

Hades: What?

Maleficent: *Makes a frustrated sound*

You, nervously laughing: Ahahaha, please stop that before she turns into a dragon and burns my house down.

——————————————————————————————

*The normal looking villains walking at the mall*

Dr. Facilier: Hey, have any of y'all seen our host? They’ve been gone for a while..

Grimhilde, not the least bit concerned: No, we have not.

Shan Yu : I haven’t...

Cruela: They probably just ran off to the McDonald’s or something.

You: Hey.

Captain Hook: Oh, there they are-

Gaston: What the-

Jafar: I- where were you?!

You: ... Walking right behind you guys.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Well, remember when our host made a romantic dinner for me?

Hades: Gaston, they microwaved you a pizza.

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu: Someone will die...

You: Of fun!

——————————————————————————————

You: Could you be anymore annoying?

Oogie Boogie: Yes.

——————————————————————————————

You: Oogie Boogie, you can do anything!

Oogie Boogie: Anything?

You: Anything!

Oogie Boogie, holding a torch: ANYTHING?!?!

You: Wait, not that!

——————————————————————————————

Gaston, playing a video game for the first: This thing is so frustrating! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!

You: Ok, I think it’s time to turn off the game for a little while.

Gaston: But I’m having fun!

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: *Gasp*

You: wHAT??

Gaston: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish?

You: *Inhales*

Cruela, in another room with Ursula: Why can I hear screeching?

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life.

You: Please never become a surgeon.

——————————————————————————————

You: I was arrested for being too cool.

Jafar: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: Damn, the power went out.

You: Don’t worry, I got this.

You: *Stomps foot*

Dr. Facilier: What-?

You: *Sketchers light up*

——————————————————————————————

You: What do you have?

Oogie Boogie: A KNIFE!

You: NO!

——————————————————————————————

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends.

You: Which one? I have twelve.

Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up.

You: Which one? I have twelve.

Gaston, distantly: HEY!!!

——————————————————————————————

Scar: Given the circumstances, I will let you hug me for four to five seconds.

You: Forty five seconds?!?

Scar: No! I said four TO five seconds.

You, hugging Scar: Too late.

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu: I have an army.

You: We have Oogie Boogie.

——————————————————————————————

*The villains playing Among Us*

Jafar: I believe Shan Yu is innocent, I was with him the whole time. Oogie Boogie, what were you doing?

Oogie Boogie: Oh, I was just murdering-… I mean, nothing!

——————————————————————————————

Grimhilde: When we get back, I'm going to step on you!

You: Okay, as much as I might enjoy that, Your highness–

——————————————————————————————

Jafar: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Hades?

Hades: Gaston, easily.

Gaston, confused: What, why??

Hades: Well, cuz I hate you, and the host would be too easy. They’d probably be into it.

You, standing in the doorway with the most bewildered expression: What the fuck man!?

——————————————————————————————

You: I think it’s time I get my life in order.

Dr. Facilier, narrating: But they did not get their life in order. In fact, they got drunk last night and fought a raccoon.

——————————————————————————————

*Scar hears about you bringing home a stray cat.*

Scar, sarcastically: I can't believe there's another cat somewhere in this house. Amazing feeling. Love that. And it's here, in this house! Somewhere! And I may encounter it! What a treat...

——————————————————————————————

*The female villains after watching The Wizard of Oz*

Grimhilde: Where the devil is Maleficent?

Ursula: Well, it's raining outside... Maybe they melted?

Cruela: Shall I look outside for a pointy set of horns?

——————————————————————————————

Hades: Any idiot would know that.

Gaston: I knew that!

Hades: See?

——————————————————————————————

Scar: I'm not lazy, I just find it hard to put effort into things I'm not passionate about.

You: What are you passionate about?

Scar: Sleeping.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Without ugly, there would be no beauty in this world.

Grimhilde: Thank you for your sacrifice, Gaston.

——————————————————————————————

You: If I see a bug, I'll simply leave the room elegantly and have Hades to do something about it.

You: And if he doesn't fulfill my wish, I simply never go back in there.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier, looking at a dead phone: How do we bring this thing back to life? Magic? Live sacrifice? I know a guy in town-

——————————————————————————————

You: I haven't seen Gaston and Hades for fifteen minutes now.

*Outside a nearby window, a car without a driver inside is seen rolling down a driveway, with Gaston and Hades running after it in a panic. You don't look outside at all.*

You: That probably means they're getting into trouble.

——————————————————————————————

You: Go to hell!

Hades: Where do you think I come from?

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: People tell me I have a unique way of lighting up a room.

You: It’s called arson, and those people are called witnesses.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: What are y’all’s favorite things to wake up to?

Grimhilde: Breakfast in bed.

You: Emails from AO3!

Shan Yu: My favorite thing to wake up to is not waking up at all.

Shan Yu: The screams of my enemies are a close second, though.

——————————————————————————————

You: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment... At all?

Gaston: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: Treat bugs the way you want to be treated!

You: Killed without hesitation.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook, recently learned modern swears: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT!

You: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Captain Hook: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch?

You: Somehow, that's worse.

——————————————————————————————

Maleficent: We all have our demons...

You, grabbing Oogie Boogie: This one’s mine!

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

You: Those are wanted posters!

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook: So, what's for dinner?

You, staring at the food you burnt: Regret.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: So, I've been thinking-

You: Again?? That's dangerous.

——————————————————————————————

Hades: Why would you do that?

You: Because I feel guilty.

Maleficent: Guilt is a trick emotion. It’s put there by your parents to stop you from doing things that feel good.

——————————————————————————————

You: *Eating a cinnamon roll*

Oogie Boogie: Cannibalism.

You: *Confused chewing noises*

——————————————————————————————

*At the supermarket*

Captain Hook: All right, the last item on the list is "virgin oil."

Captain Hook:

Captain Hook: Wow. Imagine being an item and still being called a virgin.

——————————————————————————————

You: What’s your body count?

Captain Hook: Do you mean sex or murder?

——————————————————————————————

You: *Is wearing silk pants* How does this look?

Cruela: Like its slips on and off really easily.

You:

Cruela: No, I didn't mean it like that-

Ursula: We know what you meant.

——————————————————————————————

You: Bonjour, Dr. Facilier. Voulez–vous coucher avec moi?

Dr. Facilier: No, I don't want to sleep with you.

You: ... Is that what that means??

——————————————————————————————

You: I'm gonna eat the chicken breasts!

Gaston, snickering: Yeah, eat what you lack,

You, deadpanning at Gaston: Then maybe I should order brains on delivery for you.

——————————————————————————————

Jafar: I committed all 7 deadly sins in 30 minutes.

Hades: Wow, I've gotta hear this.

Jafar: I was angry and envious of my neighbor, so I lazily seduced his wife and ate all his groceries and didn't share.

Hades: You forgot pride.

Jafar: No, I'm pretty proud of this.

——————————————————————————————

Maleficent: Our dear host annoyed me today, so I told them that I can’t wait for them to see what I had planned for our special day tomorrow.

Scar: There is nothing special about tomorrow.

Maleficent: But there is something special about watching the color leave their face as panic takes over.

——————————————————————————————

You: You’re all insane!

The villains: Sure we are, what’s your point?

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: I want you to be with me for the rest of your life.

You: Damn, that sounds like a marriage proposal... A really one-sided one.

Gaston, getting down on one knee: That's because it is.

——————————————————————————————

You, admiring and petting a sleeping Scar: You’re so cute.

Scar, sleepily: I could tear you limb from limb with my bare fangs.

You, lovingly: I know.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: *Writing a letter*

Oogie Boogie: Dear Sandy Claws,

I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...

And it was worth it, you fat, judgemental bastard.

——————————————————————————————

You, dealing with the villains: Like, no offense to myself and all, but what the fuck am I actually doing?

——————————————————————————————

*You are cleaning the house, and you find an empty bottle of orange juice*

You: Clear orange juice?

You: Oh, it's empty.

Most of the villains, who had been watching the entire time: We live with an idiot. We live with an idiot. We live with an idiot.

——————————————————————————————

Scar: Our relationship is strictly professional.

You, brushing Scar's mane as he lays his head on your lap: Absolutely. Only business.

——————————————————————————————

All the female villains: We're not like other girls. We're way, way worse.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook: There. How do I look?

Dr. Facilier: Like a cheap French harlot.

Captain Hook: French?!

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu, towering over you and glaring down at you: I could kill you if I wanted to little host.

You absolutely done with his bs: Oh yeah? Well, guess what. So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

——————————————————————————————

Hades: Some people say that I have a god complex. I’d like to think that I’m a complex god.

——————————————————————————————

You: Captain, you're drunk.

Captain Hook: Correction: drinking. Present tense. Grammar, my dear host.

——————————————————————————————

Jafar: There’s always that one weak individual within the group who isn’t down with murder.

Jafar: *Glares at you*

You: ... Well sorry I have morals!

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu, singing to the tune of I Kissed a Girl: I killed a guy, and I liked it-

Dr. Facilier, whispering: Should we call someone?

You, also singing: The taste of his cherry chapstick.

Captain Hook, appalled: Call Maleficent.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: Get in the Halloween spirit and make a ghost!

You: That’s called murder and I heard somewhere that it's illegal.

——————————————————————————————

You: You remind me of the ocean.

Ursula: Because I'm deep and mysterious?

You: No, because you're full of salt, and you scare people.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: Something’s off.

You: Maybe you’ve finally developed human emotions and feel bad for hurting people.

Oogie Boogie: No, but that’s funny.

——————————————————————————————

You: What do you call disobeying the law?

The villains: A hobby.

You: *Crosses their arms*

The villains: ... That we do not engage in.

——————————————————————————————

You: Stop thinking whatever you're thinking.

Gaston: Huh?

You: You always make that face when you're about to say something stupid. So cut it out-

Gaston: I love you.

You:

Gaston:

Gaston: Also, cereal qualifies as a soup.

You: I KNEW IT!!!

——————————————————————————————

You, extremely touched: Aw, you guys really put aside everything and came all this way for me?

You:

You, confused: How did you even get here so fast??

Cruela: Several traffic violations.

Jafar: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Gaston: Roughly thirteen cans of those energy drinks you like so much.

Dr. Facilier: Also, this aint our car.

——————————————————————————————

If you made it to this part, then congratulations! You made it through all 101 incorrect quotes! (I know, I counted them myself)

I hope you enjoyed them!

And for those of you who read through all of this and have no idea what you just read, here's Part 1 of the Reverse Isekai Disney Villains AU for context.

Thanks for reading!

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ominousdenpa · 3 months

Text

(quote.)

"dear diary, this is it. i have ended my miserable life. i couldn't take this shit any more - being trapped in a wheelchair for the rest of my damn life, is just not worth it. the surgeons told me that everything would be okay, they gave me hope! only to crush it under the soles of their feet and watch me destroy myself. they lied to me! they didn't know what it felt like!

i thought i could handle my emotions, control them, contain them, prove them all wrong, but i was just too weak. i let it slip through my fingers, out of my grip. it poisoned me, it clouded my mind. they didn't know anything, they only feel the cold touch of their knives!

they gave me antidepressants. it helped me think clearly, to see things through. i took a couple of extra pills this afternoon, they showed me what i had to do in this... short moment of clarity. they showed me that there was no one, and nothing, worth living for. they showed me how fake sophie and my doctor were, how they were laughing at me behind their masks when i wasn't looking.

laughing at me, my legs, thinking that they are so good.. that they are better than me. pretending that they care about me... it's all bullshit!

the pills showed me the truth today, they always did. they opened my eyes, they gave me wisdom, and i acted upon it. so i had to kill sophie and my doctor... my... "mentor," my "counselor."

... i had to take them down with me. they're not laughing anymore!

oh, i wish i could've taken everybody with me, but unfortunately... my situation.. makes that impossible.

to whoever is reading this: i hope my dead body will haunt you forever.

have fun scraping my brains off the wall."

#cry of fear #simon henriksson #simon cry of fear #cry of fear simon #book simon

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enchxanting · 1 year

Text

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 6

read part 5 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: angst, discussion of suicide, obsessive compulsive behavior

a/n: this is sooooo lady macbeth coded. hope you enjoy!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

I go to the bathroom at least twice a period.

When I'm there, I make sure I’m alone. Then I do two things. First, I stare at myself in the mirror. I don’t break eye contact until I’ve sufficiently recalled the memory of Tara’s limp body in my peripheral vision as Ethan pulled me out of her room.

After that, I wash my hands at least three times, but it’s usually closer to seven.

I left Tara behind four days ago. My hands are raw. I don’t know what to do.

I can’t wash this feeling away.

Still, it’s better than sending my SAT scores to San Quentin. Thank god for Ethan, because I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. “Sorry, officer, I accidentally poisoned my best friend after our huge public disagreement?”

Sure, yeah, that sounds believable. I looked up the prison time for manslaughter, assuming the judge believes it was an accident, and I don’t have eleven years to spare right now.

Talk soon.

Y/N

I close my diary and return it to my backpack for safekeeping.

Mindy is still writing on the pieces of looseleaf the school counselor, Dr. Stone, provided her with. It appears that most people don’t keep a diary past the third grade, but some TED talk said that journaling can help process big traumas, and the school has been on that shit ever since. Luckily, they don’t ask to read the entries.

The school took away my friends’ and my free periods and sent us to the counselor’s office after the news broke of Tara’s “suicide.” Anika and Chad have to go alone, but Mindy and I have always had free blocks together.

This group therapy has got to be some sort of cosmic punishment for what I did. Now I have to watch one of her oldest friends mourn, as if I wasn’t the one who let her die.

Mindy clicks her pen and slides the papers across to Dr. Stone. He takes them without looking, inserting them neatly into a file stuffed with previous entries.

“Thank you, girls. I know that the past week has been… difficult, to say the least. I want you to know that this is a safe space, and you can freely share any emotions that this tragic event has brought up.”

Poor Dr. Stone. I know that he’s really trying, but there aren’t any emotions I can bring up that wouldn’t be incriminating. Guilt? Disgust? Fear? I sneak a glance at Mindy, who’s staring out the window. She’s silent, too.

Dr. Stone sighs. “I understand that this is all very new. Maybe we’ll feel up to talking tomorrow.”

The bell rings, and Mindy gets up without saying a word. I mumble a half-hearted “thank you” before following her into the hall.

“Christ, that shit sucks,” she says. “I hate fucking journaling.”

We turn down the hallway towards the gym, where Chad’s taking part in some sort of football conditioning at lunch. We’ve developed a habit of skipping halfway through the day to sit in his car.

Mindy drops her bag and sits against the wall by the gym door. “It’s just so unfair,” she says. “I still don’t understand.”

I sit down beside her. “Don’t understand what?”

She’s quiet for a second. “I read the note. Tara said there wasn’t anyone left who cared about her. And that’s bullshit. I cared, and Chad cared, and Anika cared, and Sam cared, and you cared.”

Her eyes are brimming with angry tears. “Part of me is so, so fucking mad at her. Like, how could she leave us behind, after we made it out together? We were starting to get somewhere. She had that thing with Chad going, even if both of them were too dumb to realize. You were pulling in steady cash, thanks to me, so we could actually afford to get out of here. We talked about college in New York or something, far away from Woodsboro. There were all these goddamn plans.

“But mostly I fucking miss her, man. It’s barely been a week and I’m so… incomplete. And no amount of school counseling or journaling or whatever inspirational quote my homeroom teacher wants to share with me is going to fill the void she left behind.”

Mindy wipes away her tears. For the first time since we left Dr. Stone’s office, she looks right at me.

“I know you had your fight or whatever the night before, and if that were me I’d be torn up about it. But seriously, Y/N, you had nothing to do with it. After everything with… Amber, last year, she needed a friend. One that she wasn’t trauma-bonded with, like Chad and me. And you showed up at the right time. She loved you, man.”

My head is spinning. I’m wracked with all sorts of conflicting guilt, grief, anger, whatever, and I can’t tell anyone about it.

So I get up and start walking towards the nearby locker room.

“Wait, Y/N, what are you doing?” Mindy calls. I don’t answer.

I can hear her get up and follow after me, but it’s been at least two hours since I’ve gone to the bathroom. At this point, I don’t care if someone watches my regimen– I need to be clean.

Turning into the locker room, I make a beeline for the sinks. I get close to the mirror, close enough to make out my pores. and stare down my reflection. After that harrowing edition of a trademark Mindy monologue, it doesn’t take long for me to recall Tara’s face. I wash my hands once, twice, three times, four times.

“Jesus, Y/N, seriously, what are you doing?” Mindy watches from behind, her voice still shaky from crying.

Five times, six times, seven times, and it’s still not enough. I’m breathing hard at this point, but I can’t get enough air. There’s blood everywhere, all over me, my clothes, even on Mindy. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the showers. Perfect. I rush over to the nearest stall and turn the handle.

I don’t undress before stepping under the showerhead, letting the freezing water overtake me.

taglist: @miawastakens

#scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #scream 2023 #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #heathers #heathers au #high school au #jack champion #scream fanfic #scream 6 fanfic #scream vi

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bangtanficsforyou · 2 years

Text

Crushed- Ch (02)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Au: Friends to idk what

Genre: Angst, some fluff.

Ratings: 18+

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: mentioned in each chapter

Summary: Your coworker and best friend Jimin is everyone's favourite and for good reason. He's sweet, charming, caring, kind, humble, polite, ha– well shit. There you go making it obvious yet once again, that you're in love with him. But it's all good as long as he remains oblivious right? Wrong. After overthinking for a whole month, you decide to confess and things take an unexpected turn.

Main Masterlist | Previous

Dear Diary,

I don't know what to do. Tomorrow, I'll be meeting Jimin again and I just don't know how to behave around him, anymore. I thought three days of not seeing him would help me figure out what to do about the situation but unfortunately, that's not the case.

In the three days' time, all I have done is to stalk Jimin's Instagram but when staring at him became too painful, I moved to Rachel's insta. Another stupid move, might I say. Her recent insta updates let me know that she and Jimin spent their Sunday with each other. I assume it was their first date but even then, one could see how bright her smile was, and how happy she looked around him. If that wasn't enough, Jimin was laughing and giggling with his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Those pictures and clips made me wonder what it would feel like to be in her place, to be on the receiving end of Jimin's fond giggle, for him to smile like that because of me and at me because even though he has no idea, he makes me smile like that, like a fool, as if nothing else matters but him.

Perhaps, I was too much of a fool. That's exactly why I feel so pathetic now. I feel so stupid for ever entertaining the thought of him liking me back. It possibly wouldn't hurt so much had I not expected him to return my feelings. But it is what is. It's no one's fault. Jimin can like whoever he wishes to and the same goes for me. I chose him. He chose someone else. That's the difference.

Despite that, I need to keep my emotions at bay. I can't let him know of the pain I have been in, in recent days. I need to be the Y/N he knows, the one who is his best friend, which would admittedly require a whole lot of acting. Because every time I think of him, I just feel this longing and heartbreak. I can only imagine, what it would be like to be seeing him and to be in his presence. Nevertheless, thank you for being my safe place where I can rant without any worry because the other person who used to be my safe space, is the one I'm currently ranting about lol.

"You have not replied to my texts and have not answered my calls." Monday is here and so is Jimin. After your failed attempt at confessing, you had taken a few days off so that you don't have to face him. But alas, your day-offs were gone and here you are.

You do not bother looking up from your computer. To anyone, it would seem like you're being nonchalant but that's far from the truth. Only you can tell the way your heart shrinks and your stomach churns having Jimin sit right next to you but feeling as if he's far, far away.

"I'm sorry, I haven't had the time, was busy with work." You chew on your lower lip to give the faux impression that you're concentrating really hard on the numbers on your screen.

Jimin, either is just plain rude or doesn't buy your act, for he places a hand under your seat and swirls the chair such that you're now facing him.

Fucking wheels. You curse in your brain not even caring about how absurd it is to get mad at wheels and that to of those of a chair's.

When your eyes meet Jimin's, you immediately notice the seriousness in his orbs. Well, shit.

"Care to explain?" He asks again, his brows furrowed in a stern expression.

"I told you, I was–"

"I don't buy that bullshit." He cuts you off, vehemently shaking his head. "You've never done this before, you've always replied to my texts no matter how busy work has gotten. Do you even know how worried I was?"

It sure didn't seem so. The petty voice in your head mutters.

"Nothing, I was just tired, trust me." Trying to make him believe that you're being genuine, you also smile at him, hoping he somehow buys it.

Jimin does not buy it.

After you had left lunch abruptly, he had his suspicions about something being wrong. However, he had not paid much attention to it, for he entertained the thought that it might really have been some important duty call. You had an important meeting that day, which although you were done with, there can always be extra documents that one needs to go through or sometimes needs to mail them to some higher authorities. Jimin had shrugged off his concerns for he thought he was just overthinking or over observing.

His concerns however returned, when you did not answer his calls and texts. Because heck, in the span of three years that he has known you, you had never done that before. To say that he was worried would be an understatement.

On the second day that you had gone without any contact, he was ready to go to your place. He however didn't, when he found that you had checked his stories. That was some sort of reassurance that you are okay and probably haven't fainted in your apartment or any of the terrible scenarios that his mind had come up with.

Which had finally made him come to the conclusion that there was something up with you. Even if he had any doubts about it, they were now gone because your whole body language is stiff and closed off. Why, he has no idea.

The side of your face burns from how intensely Jimin keeps staring. Feeling your hands get clammy, you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind, in hopes of getting rid of the awkward silence. "How did your date with Rach go?"

You instantly regret the question. It must be because of how a sadistic part of you wanted to know the details. A sadistic part, which wants to know it from him, in his words.

Your question however, has the desired effect as it seems to deflect his attention. The frown on his features soften and his lips quirk up. "It was great, might as well have been the best date I have been on."

You shoot him another smile, another attempt at making him believe that you are being genuine. "You were not nervous?"

This time, Jimin does buy it. "I was surprisingly not, because it wasn't supposed to be a date." Noticing the questioning look on your face, he elaborates further. "I was just telling her about how you have not been replying to my texts and how worried I was. I had probably ranted so much that she ended up advising that I needed to be out and breathe in some fresh air. Which somehow ended up with us going out and having dinner together."

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek as you look at him and try your best to maintain your smile.

"You know the best part? There was no awkward silence." Jimin continues and you can sense that this is going to turn into a ramble.

You can only imagine, how long Jimin has been waiting, to tell you all this. A part of you thinks it would have been better had you been in touch with him via texts, because you know for sure, that he would have hit you with long texts describing every single detail and in that way, you at least wouldn't have to force yourself to smile even when you feel your heart silently break for the nth time in the span of five days.

"There's something very soothing about her. Her company just makes you kind of forget all about your worries. Unlike, how most first dates are, it was very relaxing and chill."

"So, it made you forget about me?" You chuckle but when you notice Jimin's smile fade, you realise that it might not have been the right thing to say. "I was joking, relax."

Jimin's frown remains in place and you feel scared of him easily reading you. Thankfully, a voice calling for Jimin's name is what makes him move his eyes from you.

"Can you update these numbers? I've checked them and they just need to be uploaded." Taehyung, says as he approaches where the two of you're sitting.

Jimin nods absentmindedly. "Yeah, sure." With that, he steals one last glance at you and leaves.

The moment he leaves, you feel like you can finally breathe. Fuck, acting is kind of difficult.

You look up to meet eyes with Tae only to find him winking at you and he mutters a small thank me later before he leaves as well.

The interaction has you contemplating if you were being that obvious with how uncomfortable and congested you were feeling. If that's the case then you think Jimin also might have noticed it. Which can explain his reaction to those stupid words that you had muttered.

So, it made you forget about me.

What were you thinking before you made that comment?

You'd be honest, you had not given much thought before you had said those words but now that you think of it, you wished for Jimin to have not enjoyed his date. It's selfish you know. Despite that, a part of you desperately wanted for the scenario to be different. You wished that even in her soothing presence, Jimin was worrying about you. That he did not just forget about you because he was with her.

You know he did not exactly mean that but the cynical part of you believes that the amount of fondness he feels for her is greater than the amount of worry he has for you.

It's pathetic to think that way, you know but maybe you just needed some sort of reassurance from Jimin. You know he does not owe it to you but his words did more damage than good.

"That was intense." A voice quips, causing you to blink back to reality.

"Huh?" You ask, the words not registering in your brain.

"I said, that was intense." Yoongi repeats from where he stands on the other side of your cubicle with his head resting on top of the partition.

"What was?" Genuinely confused, you frown.

He scoffs. "You and Jimin. I could feel the tension through the partition."

Your eyes go wide. "You were eavesdropping?"

He shrugs casually. "More like it was unavoidable."

You were being obvious.

"Damn, I made it obvious didn't I?" Hating the idea of it, you hope Jimin does not come to conclusions.

"Just as obvious as the day."

"You don't even try to sugarcoat it." Grumbling, you lean back into your chair.

"I don't sugarcoat it but I can sugacoat it." He retorts with a serious expression.

"You're hanging too much with Jin aren't you?" You squint your eyes and move the mouse cursor haphazardly all over the screen.

"I'd have you know my jokes are way better than Jin's, so, in case you're implying that his company has affected my humour, you're very wrong." He huffs, clearly offended by your words.

"Debatable." You reply in a beat.

"Yesterday, he went to the grocery store and asked the counter lady why eggs don't make jokes." He begins in order to prove his point.

"Because they'll crack?" You ask in a questioning tone.

"The lady did not bat an eyelash." He deadpans.

".....and Jin was too busy laughing to notice that?"

Yoongi sighs, as if concerned but not surprised by his beloved friend, Jin's behaviour. "The lady looked at me as if asking whether he's okay or not."

The whole scene plays inside your head and you laugh for the first time in what seems like ages. This has happened far too many times for you to find it funny but somehow it never gets old.

Yoongi's lips quirk up when he sees you laugh.

Anyone with eyes could see the love you had for Jimin. Thus, today, when he saw Jimin chatting with this one girl (he has no idea what her name is) while he was coming back from the tea room, he knew something was wrong. It wasn't the chatting, in particular, it was the shy glances, the fond smiles and the subtle touches. His very first thought was that of you and his immediate reaction was that of worry. He wondered if you knew about it or if it would be a heartbreaking surprise for you when you come to work.

The conversation he overhead between you and Jimin answered a few of his queries for sure but it also only caused him to worry more.

Nevertheless, seeing you laugh puts him slightly at ease.

From across the aisle, another pair of eyes watch you. Jimin notices you laugh and sees that your body language is no longer stiff, no longer guarded.

Did Yoongi say something funny? Is that what had gotten you to ease up? Because it can't be that you're all guarded and stiff around him in particular, right? He did not do anything to make you mad. At least nothing that he can think of.

But whatever it is, he needs to figure it out.

Permenent taglist:

@mwitsmejk @hopestastic

#Jimin x Reader #Jimin unrequited au #BTS unrequited au #Co worker Jimin #Office au #Jimin scenario #BTS scenario #Jimin fluff #Jimin smut #Jimin fic #BTS fic #Fic: crushed #Jimin angst #Unrequited au

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alyosiuscreightonward · 11 months

Text

Dear Diary. Talk about people who actually suck.

Recently my late husband’s dog passed away at 14 years old.

So…His kidneys shut down and he was sneezing and urinating blood all over the house. Plus he was 14 years old. It happened in a matter of days. I first thought he had lost another tooth and I went on about our lives. Then he just started to decline. He wandered around the house, just staring out and pee blood. Which leads him to start sneezing blood. I waited a day and told Childzillah we had to make that informed decision…

That’s what happened. I texted my dad on Father’s Day and wished him a happy Father’s Day but I was in a bad situation but I didn’t get into it with him.

Of course my sister had gotten those aforementioned texts just to shut the fuck up about it and leave me to grieve his passing. BUT NO!!!

My baby, my life, my heart, Harrowgate Broadchurch Cunningham Rogers has lost his pack. First was, The Emperor of Quail Village, Augustus Caesar Cunningham Rogers; he passed away due to neurological damage, he was 6 years old. Then there was, His Holiness, The Brother Levi Reddy Gudipally, he was 21. Now, CoCo Monaco Veronica Louise Ciccone Penn Ritchie Corleone The Third. However in between all this bullshit, my husband had passed away.

It was a trigger for me and I was dealing with it as best as I could. It reminded me of the days of yore when I had 8 friends die before I was 30 because of complications from AIDS/HIV. Okay. Not a fucking great time in my life. Granted my idiot sister wouldn’t fucking understand that pain since she’s 7 minutes younger than me and she’s constantly saying fucking shit like, “I’m the baby, gotta love me!!” Bitch. Please. Go ahead and have your Walmart Temper Tantrum elsewhere. No Sale here. I’m not feeding into it. “He’s picking on me!!” Fucking twat. Change your own fucking diaper.

As of this writing, I had every intention of calling my dad and telling him what happened BUT NO!!!

My sister fucking ratted me out. She put me on Front Street. She put that landfill on my dad’s property. Thanks a lot for that you stupid fucking idiot. “I’m SO going to TELL!!!”

I’ve been working on myself for years and now I’m dealing with shit better than before and the Lexipro is helping me not to feed into other people’s bull-fucking-shit. I’m of the mindset that if you tell me something, I believe in the sanctity of the confession and what you tell me, I’ll deny everything. “My name is Oliver North and I have no record collection of that memory.” I loathe telling folks that I’m dealing with my own bipolar depression, manic episodes of hypomania and suicidal ideations. I’m making progress. It’s a moment by moment thing.

Regardless of my rant, my sister will never understand how much she hurt me, again.

She’ll then claim I’m being so secretive about my life. Motherfucker, if I am able to tell you, then I would tell you and not put it in The National Enquirer or on TMZ. Nacho Bizness. Nunya Bizness. Not your story to tell. I have therapists who I confide in and not my family. They have a tendency to throw it up back in my face because they can and they will.

The love for my family is real and not just conditional. However I know that they don’t like me as a person because I’ve done shit and I’m not going to judge them but I’m going to say very clearly, that my dachshund and I WILL talk shit about them, but I’m not going to tell the world what I think because I’m irrelevant.

CoCo is going to rest in power but I will talk shit about him and not you.

Now you see why I stay over here and mind my business and I make every effort to keep myself out of your life and business. If you want me to tell you all about yourself, there’s going to be tears and they won’t be my tears. Trust and believe. I’m sure that you are not ready for my verbal and emotional abuse. I’m very good at it. My tongue is so sharp that it can and will clip the hedges. I’m going to annihilate you into a puddle of tears. Though this requires some effort on my part and I didn’t schedule that today but now, I’m going to tell her, that she can speculate about it since I’m not going to say shit to her.

Yeah I know that my dad worries about me but if it’s my shit then let me deal with my shit and don’t interject yourself in my business.

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jannwrites · 2 years

Text

book meme : DIARY by CHUCK PALAHNIUK.

a selection of lines from the novel DIARY. modified slightly for rp purposes.

today is the longest day of the year.

the weather today is an increasing trend towards denial.

a lot of things used to be different around here.

you better come see what i found. the handwriting alone is worth the trip.

it’s a kind of sweet, homespun immortality.

we all want to explain ourselves. nobody wants to be forgotten.

don’t let them trick you again.

you’ll die and the world will be a better place for it.

dear sweet _____. can you feel this?

everyone’s in their own personal coma.

you’re not going to die. you couldn’t die if you wanted to.

today’s weather is partly furious with occasional fits of read.

she/he/they still loves you. she/he/they wouldn’t bother to torture you if she/he/they didn’t.

how the fuck do you know what’s in my goddamn heart?

it’s you who should be worried.

everybody was trying to link the physical and the emotional. the body and the mind. the world and the imagination. this world and the next.

it’s just words. you can say it.

the weather today is partly suspicious with chances of betrayal.

all the effort in the world won’t matter if you’re not inspired.

maybe people have to really suffer before they can risk doing what they love.

today’s weather is nervous disgust with tentative apprehension.

they would have killed all of god’s children to save theirs.

if you’ve found this, you can still save yourself.

your advice, your praise, was so very, very fucked.

the weather today is bitter with occasional fits of jealous rage.

if misery is inspiration, i should be reaching my prime.

you’ll die when they’re done with you.

are you wearing something from a dead person?

the weather today is increasing turmoil with a possible physical and emotional breakdown.

the weather today is calm and sunny, but the air is full of bullshit.

an artist’s job is to make order out of chaos.

the weather today is foggy with conflicting stories about your father’s cause of death.

we will destroy you with your own neediness and greed.

you might think about who’d want to kill them.

your blood is our gold.

everything is a self-portrait. including your autopsied brain.

we’re all of us immortal. we couldn’t die, even if we wanted to.

#rp meme #rp ask meme #sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp sentence prompts #ask meme #rp book starters #* mine.#this book was so weird and so good would recommend Highly #meme: book.

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dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night · 1 year

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Fucking around with an incorrect quotes generator and my characters because why the fuck not?

Eden:

Ezra: Still not over how yesterday when my flight landed, our pilot said we arrived 50 minutes early because they took some "shortcuts".

Ezra: Excuse me, we were in the sky, what do you mean???

Jay: Everything’s fine, Ezra.

Ezra: Jay, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

Michael: Hey I just got a pet snake. What should I name him?

Jane-Marie: A pet WHAT?!

Katerina: William Snakespeare.

Ezra: Don't ask me what I'm talking about. I don't know, okay? I'm just the vessel. The message has been gifted. I've moved on

*as teens*

Michael: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Christopher: You’re too young to have enemies.

Michael: You don’t even know.

Christopher: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.

Colt: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Christopher: Th-that's not how that works-

Our Man Flint:

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

Ambrose: What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

Ambrose: Oh my god, you have August.

Flint: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’

Ambrose: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

Flint: But when all hope seemed lost, I had an epiphany!

Flint, earlier: I'm going to throw myself into the sea.

Flint: Come on, August! How any times do I have to apologize?

August: Once!

Flint: ...No.

August: Where are you going?

Ambrose: Hell, eventually.

Divinity:

Vo'ki: Is this about me?

Mary: No.

Vo'ki: Then I've lost interest.

Wren: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Wren: Help! I’m drowning!

Vo'ki: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water!

Wren: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

Wren: What are you drinking?

Vo'ki: Vodka.

Wren: Straight?

Vo'ki: No, gay. Why?

Vo'ki: My expectations were low but holy fuck.

Blood Sacrifices:

Drehl: But that’s censorship.

Lohl: Well done. You are correct. You’re being censored. Now go.

Ve'Qren: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Tyri: I tried to write ‘I'm a functional adult’ but my phone changed it to ‘fictional adult’ and i feel like that’s more accurate.

Daes: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours!

Swua: Six? I only got three!

Lohl: You guys got sleep?

Drehl, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

Ve'Qren: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up!

Ve'Qren: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!

Ve'Qren: I’ve only had Lohl for a day and a half but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

I'll do more if you guys like. I'm having a blast.

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Eden #Our Man Flint #Divinity #Blood Sacrifices

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scrawnytreedemon · 2 years

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Back on my FFXIII-Capital-G-God bullshit.

[ramblings below the cut!]

Went ahead and decided to watch the final battle in JP. Good lord... Look, I am no judge of Japanese voice-acting, but I feel so much of the jank is amended with just that. Lightning's voice-work is wonderful in both version's; Vel's, however... Dear lord does his English work feel generic and forced— WHICH honestly makes sense, considering the script-changes.

Yuki Kaji, who voices Hope, does an excellent job on this guy. Divinity, eagerness, and adolescence all executed brilliantly. You really get the sense that this is a being way over his head, who, in desiring to eventually walk among humanity in the new, flawless world he created, took on the body of a teenage boy— Volatile feelings and all.

I've spoken about this before, but Bhunivelze is just... Goodness, he is at once deeply well-meaning but also horrendously authoritarian. World's ending due to an overflow of Chaos, Bhunivelze seeks to create a new world for all the worthy, living souls, and destroy the Chaos— Issue is, Chaos is the collective souls of the dead: a Lifestream to use FFVII terms. You destroy that, you destroy all those souls awaiting rebirth, and destroy the memories of those deceased in their loved-ones— Vel considers this a positive, because as a demiurge with hitherto no prior experience with emotions(except endless paranoia after tossing his mother's body in the cosmic basement oop--), he considers grief a needless suffering to be washed away in his new world.

Having built her up to be the new goddess of death in the wake of Etro's death, Bhunivelze challenges Lightning to a last match after she rebels against him. Their dynamic, by the way, is extremely romantically-charged in the JP— Teenage boy feelings do that to you. After a longass, multi-phased fight, Lightning, inevitably, defeats him...

And he goes full:

This bitch, to the surprise of everyone in the arena including himself, starts sobbing his fucking eyes out. Realising he has lost control of the situation, and will have no part in the world he created, brother starts feeling it all— Sadness, grief, anger —The whole shebang.

My guy, in Peak Teenage Boy Angst, declares his intent to cast Lightning out. This, of course, proves ineffectual, and also One of the Most Video Game Divorces of All Time™! She wasn't even married to him! This is a trainwreck; I am obsessed with their dynamic; what is wrong with hiiiiiim????!?!

I bet £100 fucking bucks this guy was scribbling their initials together with hearts in some cheap pink spiral-bound notebook, kicking his non-existent legs back and forth as he imagines their wedding day. I bet he signed his diary entries with her surname. I can't. I'm fucking losing it. This is like Sephiroth if he was so much more desperate aND SEPHIROTH IS DESPERATE AS F U C K LMAOOO

Lightning is not having any of it. She signed up to get her sister back, not whatever the fuck this is. Did I mention he ripped the vestiges of Serah out of her heart, thereby emotionally crippling her? This fucking tool thought it'd be all fine once the plan went through. God. Dear God. He has no idea what he's toying with.

The fact that they toned all this down to Evil God Wants To Turn Humanity Into Mindless Slaves makes me so mad on so many levels, but I also wholly know why they did it.

The fact that Bhunivelze is an essentially all-powerful God who, to the best of his abilities, is genuinely sympathetic and loving, reiterating this time and time again, and yet not only despite but because of this fails in his role as a caretaker as he is unable, and unwilling to stoop down to humanity's level and engage with them on their own needs and terms, instead opting to follow his plan on crafting a utopia that would gut them of their memories and negative emotions struck a little too close for Western localisers.

Religion is a hot-button issue.

Far better to turn him into another cold, unrelatable Lucifer-like. Someone without love or care, who takes only to fuel his own arrogance.

I've talked before in another post similar to this written, god, what? A year ago? —About how this examination of a loving yet ultimately distant and detached god struck a chord with me. The romantic character especially— Within my old church, the relationship between God and the Church, you and He was always illustrated as akin to a groom and his bride.

I completely understand Lightning's drive to throw off that.

No love is worth being hollowed out. Even with the promise of being filled again.

#scrawny rambles #religion mention #anyhow i'm frothing at the mouth let's see if i get to making memes this time

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milanitalia44 · 6 months

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The last time I saw Toby

part one

Dear diary,

I never thought I'd find myself back here, pen in hand, scribbling away in these pages. Liz insists it's therapeutic. Daddy, on the other hand, would probably confiscate this if he knew about it. He's always been more concerned with security than emotions.

Despite Daddy's disapproval, in our session this morning, Liz urged me to write again. It seems she believes in its therapeutic power enough to risk her position. So, here I am, writing again as what seems like a last resort.

The house feels hollow these days, a cold shell of what it used to be. Often, I find myself lying on my bed, gazing out of the west window at the garden. The gazebo in the midst of the white rose beds feels like a gravestone. I like to imagine the the warmth of last summer,

When my face was kissed by the sun rather than sickly white.

When my heart overflowed with love, untouched by the sharp edges that now cut it into fine pieces.

Mum avoids me, drowning herself in white wine, tennis, and redecorating the front hall. And Daddy, well, who knows what he's up to? I'd rather not know.

He's a man of strong black coffee.

A man of pressed navy suits with long skinny ties.

A man who likes dark gray Porsche 911’s, lying, talking loudly on the phone, and women who aren’t my mother.

Liz suggested I write about last summer, to put my memories into words “as a way to set it off into the past and heal”… bullshit in my opinion, but I guess I'll give it a shot.

I’ve always been bad at memorizing for tests, daddy had to hire three different tutors just to get me through my biology class last fall, all of them quit within 3 weeks. My memories of last summer on the other hand effortlessly cut through the haze of my usual forgetfulness. It was a sweet smelling day. The cherry blossoms along the front gardens had reached full bloom, they smelt faintly of Mummy’s summer perfume. My birthday had just passed so Lucky was a fairly new treasure. I’d begged and begged for a new riding horse for ages, so finally on my 18th birthday, there came striding in a perfect chestnut English Thoroughbred with a red bow tied neatly around his neck. I remember the tears, the tight embrace with Daddy and the proud look on Mummys face. That afternoon I quietly set out and rode Lucky down the dirt road just south of our land, something I used to do with my old horse Bucky before he passed. About 20 minutes into my ride, a thud echoed behind me, startling Lucky. I swung around to an odd tableau: a blue bicycle and a cascade of newspapers scattered across the road. A few feet from his fallen bicycle, lay a brunette boy, rubbing his knee. I hopped off Lucky and helped him recollect his papers into his woven bicycle basket. Surprised by my act of kindness, he squinted at me and mentioned something about a familiar face. Instead of answering, I asked him what on earth all of the newspapers were for. It turned out, he was the paperboy—I felt stupid.

“How about I help you out then, I barely ever get to go into town” I said

He agreed. We decided it would be faster if we made the deliveries together with Lucky, so there we rode, it must've been such a peculiar sight. A paperboy and a princess riding an English Thoroughbred down the streets, flinging newspapers into yards and laughing foolishly. It was one of the best days of my life.

My dear Lucky.

Our white gazebo.

The newspaper article I've kept from that very first day.

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deardudedash · 10 months

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Dear Dash ,

This is a diary all about my knee. Thrilling I know. Hold on to your seats or eject ... either way , the topic remains the same.

I'm fairly certain it's a mild sprang. Ie annoying , like your common cold that comes with a vengeance but at a joint. That also can happen btw. My son after a stomach bug ended up in hospital with an infection in his joints. A thrilling story for another time.

I write this in my head all day long. Then when I sit down to actually write. The knowone cares mantra plays at very high volumes. Enough to the point it drowns out what I had sat down to write about in the first place.

However ... I've always struggled w this. I've always ignored it, and carried on. In the sense that whether or not I'm heard , understood ,loved or shunned. I have a right to be here. That's from a poem that with out fail enters my mind whenever I struggle. If a life boat could come in the form of a poem. Well I have that poem memorized. Not word for word but the just of it.

I never thought I'd reach a point in life that I'm to exhausted to explain , but here I am. To exhausted to explain. Wishing for ET to appear bc that's what I need. An ET to my Elliot or vis versa. Maybe though emotional exhaustion is a positive but some may say it's disassociating. Who's to say ... apparently white men with degrees, studying the white men that came before them who had enough time to write a book. Enough emotional reserve to write page after page after page... after page of a story lived out. I guess reliving trauma can be fun if it equals millions in book sales. Thanks but no thanks.

I can though offer you a few paragraphs of sarcastic script filled with bitch on the side. If you have an appetite for that. If sauerkraut is your thing, you might be able to stomach the worst of me.

Side note ... My landlord is still a piece of shit. On top of the crazy bullshit bastard he's been the last three years . When you hit the point of understanding why people take the law into their own hands sometimes. Here we are. Although the law in this case remains in the book. Isn't he lucky I'm not truly crazy❤️.

Anyways Dash

Much love

Jess

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