It's not Finished finished but Ey! I mean.. I lost sm sleep over this bad boy it's worth smth just by that alone even if i wasn't shamelessly tooting my own horn about it!

I am v happy w how it's turning out

Previous Post....

It has been way too long since I've hung out with my girl, Tiff, so we went out for a bit...

Because of her programming prowess, Tiff has quite a bit of money saved up, around 21k. And frankly, I'm tired of living in this dump. Tiff has never complained, so I'm complaining for the both of us.

Also, if you're wondering why Captain was angry in the first shot, it's because he keeps rolling around in puddles and garbage strewn around the house and Tiff has to clean it up and yells at him afterwards. Neither of them are having the best days of their lives, tbh.

Fed him a treat just so he doesn't think that Tiff hates him.

Anyways, here's what I did. I literally only redecorated the living room since that's the only room we ever really use. I get really impatient trying to build in these types of games, so I tried to do it as quickly as possible. I like it though; it looks really cozy.

It's a start. I laughed at myself because while I was decorating, I was thinking that we should probably think about moving sometime soon, but idk I like living here, and I know Tiff doesn't give a shit what her house is like. She spends most of her time on the computer.

"Buddy, I love you and all, but you can't be rolling around in shit and jumping all over the new setup..."

He doesn't gaf.

We stan Captain on this blog.

Like I mentioned before, I hate building in games like the Sims. Always have, even back when I was playing 2 in like the 2nd grade. But in 4 specifically, I despise empty lots since the worlds feel so lifeless to begin with. Forgotten Hollow has that one empty lot, so I wanted to fill it with a cool vampire bar. I found this really nice one on the gallery, and it fits right in with the rest of the architecture.

...it had to be Bear Night, though. Tiff was getting really tense and annoyed by this lady, lol. She just cannot have a good time, ever.

Seriously: bring back the good ol' days of smoking in public bars. Also...

"What the FUCK are you doing?!" says the bear.

Tiff got fucking hammered off those Plasma Janes, so it was time to scat. We live right next door which is pretty tight.

That's it for this post. I only had a couple hours of freetime before I had to start getting ready for work, so couldn't do a whole lot. Honestly, I really want to start doing a story with Tiff and Markovic and make some new characters, as well, but that means I'd have to write it and I ain't got time for that rn. Someday soon, though.

I'm also going through the process of editing the hoods, making-over townies, etc so that the populace looks a little more in line with the VTM theme I'm going for here. That shit's gonna take a minute, but how do you eat an elephant, ya kno?

MY LAPTOP IS BROKEN

i yam typing this from my macbook i got from a stranger on offerup who told meh to meet him at Astoria "outside the station n tht it would b easy to 1dentify them cuz he would b wearing a orange Jumpsuit" like some HAUTE prison couture shit. he Had a thicc new yorker accent n treated it lik a drug deal, he kept looking over his shoulder n sped off once u gave him the monies. LIL DID U KNO the mf macbook would have SPANISH ACCENTS ON IT but it would work perf fine except now the shift button or camera dont work Cuz after this gala, u n one of ur best fwendz were cuddling with alcohol on tha bed and spilled it on the dam thing. u just got told yr jobs closing down cuz they gettin sued and u can't join zoom calls via camera but u just hope for tha best cuz ny unemployment takes 5evvaaa. y kant i just b a rockstar? like hot n paid for it?? Being a rockstar gf is not in tha cards for me anymore tho.

42nd st smells like star anise and herbs ur Dad would brew into tea and ur just trying to get to pacific trimming .. U pass by ur old sugar daddys warehouse n U give urself a ol lil chuckle cuz Ya rly did pull dat shit. Randos at tha store wanna take pix with u n ur still shy n flattered n find it hard to associate with the person on camera vs person in tha mirror, am I tha only one who feels this cognitive / bodily dissonance. ??.?

i curated this list thinkin ab the musician i met lastlast winter who wanted to show me his music, i said sure, n he played me his entire album on his guitar for just a little over an hour while telling me he could order us "the worst coke he's ever done in his life which includes suicidal ideation during the come down.' he apologized profusely afterwards n gave mediocre head. Yes , we have matched on tinder 3 more times. why do i keep swiping rite u ask. Trust me all my toxic traits are still unbenognst to me myself Ni, ok.

one good thing ab living in nyc is that when u need to cry on the subway, no one cares, No one asks u why u have bandages on ur wrists And no one asks if Yr ok after they shove ya real hard cuz they prob need 2 get somewhere real soon . I think i've learned to enjoy tha silence n the weight of what new yorkers rly mean when U catch them staring then they look down rite away. I think it means that they're showing respect tht u most likely wanna be left alone. It's an unspoken code .Band aids fall off the ankles of beautiful women, no one asks to give them tha extra one in their bag. Subway performers, singing their hearts out n expressing themselves so raw and well r ignored. i dont own headphones anymore so i Kan pay attention. i think it means something 2 show someone u listen.

WELL.

...U may hav fallen on a strangers lap on tha C train this week Cuz ur new rock platforms made ya SLIP n SLIDE but ur reminded Ur not the only fucked up one in tha head cuz a few months ago someone sat on ur lap thinking u were a got dam seat too. Subway vibes.

H3AVen was S000 fun in tha CLOUDS w bali bby n Lust sick puppie dancing on stage with yr friends n letting them wear ur pink n glittery tiara just like lindsey Lohan in mean gurls. [these days i rly wish i wuz like regina george. but just the part when she gets hit by a bus.] speaking of lindsey lohan. I SAW THEM ON A PLANET FITNESS COMMERCIAL WHILE STREAMING MI SAD LIL PEEP MIX. likeWTF. tht wuz kinda lit. TIL NXT WEEK MAYB fwendz. ty 4 reading ;3

👐 Hand washing guide when you have sensory issues 👐

tbh. we shouldve been talking abt this a long time ago for many disabled ppls sake but ive put this post off for like a million years out of pure solidified fear of ableist harassment/kneejerk ignorance and also generalized cringe idiots but now that we got so much covid-19 fear and autistic ppl actually tend to have weaker immune systems than most people lets jump the shark;;;

i have autism and i physically struggle with washing my hands as often as i want to, having wet hands, drying them, the temperature difference, bad soap smells/textures, etc. are all genuinely painful. the good news is that ive dealt with water aversion shit since birth (its a common sensory issue), so ive had time to figure out alternatives and coping skills that still help reduce risk of disease and spreading it in ways that i can personally manage. (ie. not lazy or selfish or gross. genuinely putting more effort into this every day task than most other people would even think about. just disability lads) so heres the guide i have to offer if you’re in a similar boat, with some keypoints about hand hygiene and tips addressing the most common sensory struggles ive noticed with it;;;

1. hand sanitizer

i love hand sanitizer, i can get it in almost any scent i want and it dries down very very fast. the problem is; hand washing and hand sanitizer do different things. it only kills certain types of germs. which is all fine and dandy, but because of this, using only hand sanitizer wont actually keep you from catching or spreading many illnesses. so what its good for is times you cant wash your hands (out in public, sensory overload, no spoons, etc), thats fine, but it should not replace all hand washing if at all possible. it is supposedly effective to covid-19, but so little is currently known that it should not be considered your go to for this, and the only unanimous statement straight from the CDC is that hand washing works best at preventing its spread.

temperature - if you have trouble with it being too cold, conveniently keeping it in your pocket or closely against your body in some way warms it up and makes it much more comfortable. 

scent - they come in almost any scent you can imagine, but if you have trouble with strong scents, there are ‘scentless hand sanitizers’. they usually have a faint chemical smell, so if there are any testers available, you should check to make sure it can work for you before you buy it.

texture - if gel doesnt cut it, they also make foamy hand sanitizers and liquid sprays, but theyre harder to find and might be a little more pricey.

and remember; always buy hand sanitizer that says it contains AT LEAST 60% alcohol, the higher alcohol content the better, but try to keep track of how high it is and how much you apply it so you dont dry your skin out. and right now price gouging is pretty bad, so dont be surprised if you cant find any for a while, and dont buy any small bottle that costs over a couple dollars, its a rip off.

2. hand washing 

so what does hand washing do thats better than sanitizer??? soap and water lift up the dirt and oils that are carrying the germs and actually wash them off, and not only that, it also gets rid of all the things sanitizer cant, such as dust/dirt, spores, chemicals, and the previously mentioned viruses that are harder to kill. ik to an outside perspective it might not seem that hard, but obviously when you have autism and these tasks are split down into bigger ordeals and sensory nightmares, it can feel impossible. 

soap - there are so many different kinds of soap! scentless soaps exist, and they very rarely have any lingering chemical smell! theres also soap for sensitive skin, and baby soap also works well for that issue. bar soaps can come in all different shapes and sizes, with many different ingredients and additives to choose from (independent soap makers are an amazing source for customized soap btw), and liquid soaps can be pure gel, frothy, mousse-y or even have tiny exfoliating or moisturizing beads in them if thats a sensory experience you enjoy. this is my number one rec for people struggling with hand washing bc of sensory issues;;; mix up the soap. finding one that gives you an okay or even a GOOD sensory experience can completely turn around an otherwise meltdown inducing task

temperature - this is the one thats always been hardest for me. cold water straight up hurts me, and our plumbing is Terrible, so the trick i have for slow pipes is to run the hot water on high as Soon as i get into the bathroom. leave it going and by the time you’re done there should be at least lukewarm water. if this still takes too long for you, try out the various sinks in your house, usually one is able to get hot water faster than the rest (for me its the kitchen sink) and that can become a designated station for you if need be.

texture - some ppl just hate water. if thats the case, it rly doesnt change much abt the process if you use less water, ie work the soap into a lather, and then only use as much as you need to rinse it off. you dont have to keep your hands under the whole time, the soap clings to the dirt, the water takes it off all together, as long as you scrub well and rinse till you see no suds, you’re good 

If it really comes down to it, a washcloth with water+soap, a disinfecting wipe, or even literally just a rinse with plain ol water is better than nothing, but the stream of water and act of rubbing the soap in is the most effective combo against disease. soap/disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizers are your second best option. if theres a time in your life where an issue is so disabling for you that you truly cant keep any of this up, rly the most important thing is to limit your direct physical contact with your face and commonly used objects as MUCH as possible until you can figure smth out. (you kno those old ladies that grab a wipe and open the doorknob with it between their hand and the knob? become that old lady) and if push comes to shove, if a safe and accepting therapy setting is something accessible to you, hygiene struggles are actually something many mental health professionals understand Very well and can help you cope with personally and directly, without shame.

3. hand drying

this is also. my personal hell. and what most people say is the hardest part of the sensory experience. but ya cant just walk around with wet hands right

towels - the obvious choice for most, but to me they actually dont dry enough. i always end up damp and with lint stuck to me. this kills the man. but hand towels do have some variety to them, you can find em with really long fibers or really short/flat, really fuzzy or really stiff, etc. sounds silly but its smth a lot of ppl dont think about that can change a lot. you can also try super absorbent towels (yes like a shamwow), and again baby bath towels are also an option if you want something gentle.

paper towels - yeah a little more wasteful and expensive, but imo much more absorbent. theyre also pretty thin so you can get between your fingers (MY BANE), and under your nails if you use a corner. 10/10

blow drying - ik this is the kind of shit you only see in like movie theaters and malls and they are definitely LOUD AS SHIT, but if you happen to have the money, and struggle more with Textures than Noise, ie a stream of warm air seems worth the sound, you Can actually find a small basic one of these items for your own home. 

4. public restrooms

everybody hates em!!! but you can make em more tolerable;;;

soap - bring your own! little travel soaps you can keep in your bag are a godsend for ppl with sensory issues, sensitive skin/allergies, and if you just prefer not sharing soap.

temperature - most public places i notice actually do get hot water pretty fast (like,,, too fast,,, like,,, it bur ns me) so if there are no faucets and its too hot or too cold, once again you can try different sinks and one might be more comfortable. if there are faucets i recommend grabbing a paper towel to turn it off, so you dont have to touch it again with your clean hands.

sound - WHY R AUTOMTIC FLUSH TOILETS SO FUCKEN LOUDD..... honestly if you have noise cancelling earmuffs or earplugs or w/e pop em in. if you dont have any of that i just literally plug my ears with my fingers when i stand up. if you struggle with the sound of the blow dryers, they almost always have paper towels as well, but its a great idea to carry something like that around in your bag with you just in case. if its really packed and people chattering is getting to you, sometimes the ‘family’ bathrooms are actually smaller and less full. if its bad enough and you feel comfortable asking, an employee might be able to direct you to a single stall bathroom or at least a different one than that.

and though its convenient, try not to use your sleeve to touch things like doorknobs, toilet handles, etc. instead use something disposable like a paper towel or wipe, bc the germs will simply transfer to your sleeve and still risk infecting you. 

5. schedule

the number one suggestion is to wash your hands literally as often as possible during a time like this but like. even for allistic/nt/abled/ ppl thats just not always an attainable schedule so the Best times to wash your hands are;;;

after using the bathroom - the most important time and generally the easiest to get used to. its smth you have to do multiple times a day that already has a schedule, and if you were to forget or go into sensory overload its usually immediately accessible as soon as you can. as i mentioned earlier, if you need help remembering, you can turn the water on when you first get in and leave it going.

the doctors - ANY KIND of health facility should be avoided right now unless really necessary, places where sick people would frequent is the quickest way to get sick but like. ya rly cant help it sometimes right. you cant stop dealing with your own illnesses just bc theres another one floating around. so, this is time to go apeshit on the handwashing. if your health issue involves coughing and sneezing, ask for a face mask. bring a scarf in case they dont have any, its not as great but better than nothing. otherwise, you honestly dont need it, face masks are more for these people bc they keep germs in better than out. whether you’re worried abt getting sick or infecting others, this is a time to use hand sanitizer, avoid physical contact like shaking hands [autistic cheering], and when you first arrive and right before you go to leave are the most important times to remember to wash your hands. 

preparing food - not as commonly spoken about, but also easy to work into a schedule. i personally dont care unless its food for somebody else or if im going to be putting my hands on it a lot, but if thats the case, a lot of the time thats produce you already want to wash in the sink, so you can kill two birds with one stone there. dont just get the germs off your own hands, get em off the fruits and veggies before you eat em. carpool

after grocery shopping - not very common. most ppl just slap some sanitizer/a wipe on there or dont think abt it at all, but if you just got home from walmart thats a great time to wash. you just touched a bunch of items other people touched, including the cart, money/credit cards, and all the products people will pick up and put back, so its prime germ time babey. But again, sanitizer or a wipe will help if its all you can manage after a trip out like that.

before self care - also uncommon. ppl always say ‘dont touch your face’ and ‘apply this product with clean hands’, and what they mean is that one of the fastest ways germs get into your system is through your mouth, nose, eyes and ears. if you’re simply washing your face theres not as much concern, but applying a mask, moisturizer, makeup, etc. should all be done after a gentle rinse of your hands (and face). very hard to get into the schedule of, but if you consider it a Part of your ‘self care’ or use a special fun cleanser, it can stick a little easier.

6. stim items

STIM ITEMS!! if you have stim items, its a good idea to clean them regularly, but even moreso during an outbreak like this.

rubber/plastic - if it goes in your mouth, hot water (not hot enough to melt!) and dish soap, if it doesnt, look up how to safely make a diluted bleach solution.

silicone - silicone is usually dish washer safe.

fabric - if its light, add bleach to the washing machine, if its colored, you can use white vinegar or hydrogen peroxide which are less likely to discolor any dyes. lysol detergent is also super great. small items you’re worried about losing, or items with details/loose parts, you can usually wash inside of a sealed pillow case. 

‘squishies’ - for ‘mochi’ squishies aka the rubbery ones, soap and water + some dusted baby powder or corn starch (optional) to keep it from grabbing lint for a while. for foam squishies, they can rarely be deep cleaned without the risk of growing mold or taking paint off, but a disinfecting wipe every now and then should keep it clean for a while.

slime - cant be disinfected, sorry. also a breeding ground for mold if you arent careful, so its always best to cycle through these quickly.

technology - cant really be completely sterilized, but there are many places to get sprays and cleaning wipes for the devices you use that can at least keep the areas your hands frequently touch a little cleaner.

BUT of course if your item comes with instructions on how to wash it, always follow that instead. this is just a general idea.

and as a final note;;; disabled ppl should not feel guilty or dirty for struggling with this. like. man idc abt ur cringe feels or your ignorant blame or your lack of understanding/sympathy for what goes into these tasks for us. if u dont wanna get our struggles and sensitivities when we’re working twice as hard on functioning tasks which personal ease you take for granted, thats on you. @ disabled people if you struggle with maintaining the same standard of hygiene as nts you arent gross or bad fucking person, you’re disabled and by definition that means your level of functioning will be different, and you deserve sympathy. its just that germs dont discriminate, they wanna cause problems for everybody involved (especially you!!!), so Anything you can manage is Great and if anything from this post can help make it a little easier for people in any way, i feel its absolutely necessary to talk about with respect and dignity. people with autism/adhd/sensory processing disorder/similar neurodivergencies/literally anybody else this could benefit, pls feel free to add on any tips you might have or send me questions. let disabled ppl help disabled ppl do our personal bests

The Bird King by G. Willow Wilson

Summary

The Bird King is a 2019 fantasy novel set in 1491, the novel takes place in the Emirate of Granada during the territory’s final days. The story concerns the flight of Fatima and Hassan, a concubine and mapmaker, respectively, from service to the Emirate’s last sultan. (Taken from Wikipedia)

We follow Fatima and Hassan on their search for the Bird King as they avoid soldiers of the Spanish inquisition, and meet a variety of characters along the way.

Our Ratings: 

 → Geena: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: The Bird King is an amazing book that manages to be complex yet light-hearted. It touches on subjects like faith, love, and friendship. The characters are engaging (and absolute drama queens) and the plot is fast-paced so there’s never a dull moment. The dynamic between the characters leads to the funniest situations that will have you dying. In summary, reasons to read this book if you haven’t already:

A- ONE SUPER FUNNY BOOK PLZ READ IT

B - THE DRAMAAA OF FATIMA AND HASAAN

C - Vikram 

D - Stupid

~ Spoiler-full discussion below ~

The Good: 

→ Hassan and Fatima’s Relationship

Geena: The best thing about the bird king (aside from the horse named Stupid) was Hassan and Fatima’s friendship. IMO it was so wholesome and they were so in love (PLATONICALLY!!!!). When Hassan said seeing Fatima walking around was like seeing his heart outside his body…… a BITCH DIED!!! Also, the fact they would take shots at each other constantly? Loved it. HOW COULD I FORGET… HASSAN CONSTANTLY BEING HORNY AND FATIMA BEING LIKE “CAN U CHILL!”  

Kae: OKAY MOOD LMAOOO. So boom. Geena covered it. We love this book! Hassan and Fatima are the definition of the 💯 emoji. But these bestie-bitches are DRAMATIC af. I’ve never seen two best friends who love each other as much as they do. They’re hugging and crying one moment, then the next they’re jealous that one of them is talking to someone else. DRAMATIC. I love it. Have we talked about Gwenny and Stupid yet?  

Geena: WE HAVEN’T TALKED ABOUT THEM, the perfect accessories to the Hassan-Fatima duo. Gwen is the token white boi, there for Hassan to thirst over and Fatima to learn how to sail a ship. Stupid on the other hand…. God bless that horse all it did was drown and then LIVE!!!! The absolute legend.  BUT Kae HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE GWEN AND STUPID? HMMM

Gwen: I only love God

Also Gwen: *sleeps with Fatima on the deck of the ship while Hassan is 3 feet away* 

Kae: Well... Gwennec. Ol’ Gwenny Gwen Gwen. Gwen, the Monk who FUCKS. PAHAAHA. Gwen was a new Monk who was at first, totally against helping our favorite bestie-bitches. But Fatima was all “Don’t test me white boi I will kick ya ass.” And Gwen lowkey thought it was hot so he let them slide. He taught Fatima and Hassan how to sail while Hassan made googly eyes at him and definitely wanted to tap that. But, as previously stated, Fatima and Gwen got it ooonnn.  Hassan found out and as like “Fa, I can’t believe you slept with my husband who doesn’t know we’re married yet!”,  and that was basically that.. Then we have Stupid. The horse who was just as damn stupid as his name. The horse lived to spite the Grim Reaper just to prove it would breathe another day. We also haven’t mentioned our Jinn friend and their literal lifesaver/guardian angel, Vikram.  

Geena: VIKRAM, aka another dude/djinn/dog man that Hassan wanted to fuck but couldn’t :( Vikram was essentially the only one in the group that had a substantial amount of brain cells, and spent most of the time trying to make sure Fatima didn’t accidentally kill herself. The fact that he saw his death and it was in the arms of a “beautiful woman” should sum up his character really well. 

Kae: Geena is sooo right. Vikram was the only one with brain cells because Fatima and Hassan both shared two. Our loveable, dramatic, but also a little dimwitted faves wouldn’t have survived any of their adventure without Vikram. He lead them through a Jinn filled tunnel that Hassan made. Escorted them across the land with the Inquisition right on their asses, and fought off whoever tried to hurt them. Initially, he agreed to save them because of a debt he owed to Fatima’s Sultana. But in the end, Vikram helped them because he wanted to. He was a weirddog/man/Jinn who just wanted Fatima and Hassan to stop being dumbasses for five seconds. But they couldn’t so he was constantly annoyed and probs wanted to eat them to shut them up. BUT WE STAN THAT FURRY LEGEND BECAUSE WITHOUT HIM, OUR ESCAPEES WOULD BE DEAD-EEE. Also he was one suave, smooth talking mofo and I feel like if he walked up to you and said “You’re lovely, but you’re an idiot. It’s okay, because you’re pretty tho.” that compliment sandwich would go right over your head and you’d thank him.  

Geena: ok FIRST OFF I would be like “why do you have a tail” but god Kae you hit all the points. 

The Bad AND The Ugly

→ The Sultan and His Mom Being Pedos 

Geena: Ok so, Fatima is 17 and I’m assuming the Sultan was in his mid-thirties, because he has kids Fatima’s age 👀. So I am sure it was historically accurate, the fact that the old ass man had a 17 year old concubine, but that doesn’t make it any less gross!!!! What’s worse is that Fatima’s mom was originally a slave for the sultan, so when she was born the sultan’s mom raised her and had her instated as a concubine when she was 15!!!!!! Scuse me while I 🤮. 

Kae: Yea, Geena said it all. The Sultan was ewww. Fatima was his favorite and I guess he talked to her like she wasn’t a concubine? She was treated very well. For a concubine. Probably better than any concubine I’ve read about Like, she had rights and could talk shit without punishment. But still, DISGUSTEEENNNG. Our girl was groomed so we do NOT stan the Sultan. 

→ Luz

Kae: we also have our main villain, Luz. She arrived at their palace to play peaceful, but she had ulterior motives that involved her spreading the word of the LORDT and taking Hassan in to be tried for Witchcraft and all that magic shit. Because if we didn’t say it before, Hassan can draw anything on a map and make that place a reality. Luz has this little worm in her eye that basically makes her super weirdly strong and badass. But fuck Luz. When Fatima finds out that Hassan is to be tried for witchcraft, she goes to him so they can both escape. Fatima wants to be free and she doesn’t want to see her bestie die. So what do they do? They dip. And now our friends are on the run. 

Geena: UGH Yes, can I just say the moment that Fatima realized that Hassan would get canned she was like “fuck all these people” and peaced out with Hassan? Friendship goals… But yes LUZ!! I enjoyed reading her as a villain because she genuinely thinks she’s a good person and that her life’s mission is to “Save” people like Fatima from people like Hassan. You really end up liking her in the beginning, and then she turns around and murders a few people and you’re like…. Ah…… i see….. aND THEN it turns out she was being controlled by some brainworm that was also trying to get to the Bird King and you kind of wonder…. How much of what Luz did was her being a violent inquisitor and how much was the worm controlling her… you kno? She redeems herself by dying, so I guess she gets…. Like one (1) right. 

Kae: Damn girl! Well said!!! LITCHERALY that is a perfect summary of Luz’s character. I can’t say anything else because it’s been SAID.  Villains are always interesting when they don’t see themselves as the bad guy. They’re righteous and unforgiving because they believe they are doing the right thing. That’s what scary about them. 

Conclusion 

Kae: Okay, so in conclusion. This is an amazing book and in all honesty, I enjoyed the hell out of it. I was never bored reading it. Hassan, Fatima, and Vikram had quite the adventure and all the dramatics of made it that much more enjoyable. They left the palace in hopes of freedom. Hassan and Fatima got the idea of The Bird King from a story they liked to read, but never knew the ending. So they continued the story on their own, making it up along the way. In hopes of escaping their new fate to Luz and the Inquisition, Hassan drew up a map to the Bird King in hopes to find it. Their journey took them to meet Gwennec who sailed them to said island, where they discovered used to be inhabited long, long ago. Soon, others began to show up on the island. Hassan even got him a MANS. A DOCTOR. Whew. He’s got taste. The island is also forever changing and some of the remaining inhabitants are Jinn. 

Geena: Kae summarized the story really well!!! The journey to the end was an absolute trip, but G. Willow Wilson tied up the story neatly. We get to see Fatima become less dependent on Hassan (thanks to his doctor bf who told her to chill out) and Hassan finally find the happiness he deserves. Gwen, unfortunately, doesn’t make it to the end (press F to pay respect). Luz essentially sacrifices herself by taking the map Hassan drew, getting off the island, and ripping it up. Why does she do this? Because to make a place or passage Hassan drew disappear the map has to be ripped. And leaving the map to the island wasn’t an option because the Spanish inquisition never stops!!

Kae: And if they ripped the map on the island, the island would cease to exist! Upon arrival to the island, everyone had their ships wrecked. Luz got fucked up on the shipwreck and that worm thing got ripped out of her eyes and then it became a monster on the island that was NOT to be trifled with. Since Luz got all jacked up, she was gonna die anyway and no one wanted her to stay--

Geena: Everyone said “u cant sit with us” to luz. OKAY DISCUSSING THIS BOOK MADE ME REMEMBER HOW MUCH IT MADE ME LAUGH, GENUINELY ONE OF THE FUNNIEST BOOKS I’VE READ. 10/10 FOR ME!!

Kae: LMAOOO HONESTLY. XPECIALLY FATIMA NEVER HAVING WALKED SO FAR BEFORE AND BEING A BIG OL BABY. but she DIIIID have messed up shoes that blistered so I’ll give her that BUT YES HASSAN WAS A DRAMA QUEEN “waaah, I have red hair and im pale BUT I'M STILL HOT AND I LIKE TO F U C K” But yeah, Luz got voted off the island and voted herself off the island, ripped up the map, and then they were safe and lived happily ever after. Vikram even made his final appearance to say his goodbyes to Fatima, even though he hates goodbyes. I give this book a 10/10. It was funny, the characters were likeable and relatable, and it was just a good adventure read.

a weekend of some wins... sort of

so I had some b/p slip ups this week, unfortunate.

I think it has to do with the low restriction mixed with the processed foods I was putting in me, it just tanked my energy and gave me that desperate twitchy feeling

I'm going to start more medium restriction days as well as balanced meals. Aka protein, fruits, maybe veg if I can slip it in. I think the vitamins and the heartier components will just feel better than the constant toast and salty soups (although those aren't going away completely, just getting 'healthier')

I will say! I allowed myself a higher calorie day that included little cake squares. Usually desserts would make me go nutso and eat the whole plate, but y'all I was able to stop myself, it didn't turn into a binge. Sitting with 'fullness' felt a little off but I just let it happen... I think it was the amount of food before hand that help me be moderate

(fucking gee, it's almost like feeding yourself a correct amount of food to fullness and stopping at the right time is how your body is supposed to work, surprise surprise)

Its felt like so long I've been able to just eat somewhat normally without it being loaded with some emotional drive to it, I went back to restriction the next day, but it's a start

still, going to start using my lose it app again as well, ya kno how it goes, recovery feels like a whole lot of stepping side to side rather than forward but... at least I'm moving?

Speaking of moving

I gotta say though I feel like I've stopped losing weight, like at first it was like 10 pounds dropped BAM and now I'm just swaying between 120 and 123 back and forth day by day, not going lower. And I no longer work out like a demon but its not like I'm in bed all day, I have an active job, I go for walks. idk.

I want to ask the NP at therapy about it and I just hope she's honest as to why I'm so dang stagnant (I feel like I've had more than enough binges to boost the ol' metabolism)

I'd say the not so great thing was taking donuts from work and putting them in the freezer, aka saving binge food. I really want to get on another binge free streak so I'm hoping they stay in there for a good while, a least a few days

Idk on the one hand I feel like I'm finally moving towards the right direction but- I'm still focused on weight loss, I still calorie count, try to get X amount of steps, still have CRAZY binge urges, still B/P sometimes, like the behavior isn't fabulous

I feel like I'm in a revolving door with my ED, be great if I could just be here or there.

: LITTLE MILE,

PART ONE : : [live for the weekend and buy grams of blow with your paycheck.

see section A. feel good about going for walks. work thru a long distance relationship and get through the suicidal shit okay. then

break promises but also keep a few, not to keep up appearances but you wish rather to keep the purity of your word, which is hard fucking work. wait till she comes for a visit after super long time

apart and spread some roses on the bed because she likes that sort of thing. leave oreos on the pillow as oreos are delicious. ride her later in the night about that time you smoked six cigarettes in five

minutes as she was blowing xanax to prove a point. go to sleep crying but remember a few special moments as well and base your memories around that. see GOD for awhile but then decide it was

bullshit and perhaps just your conscience given a literal voice. see section A. hear nobody text you for days and understand some weird nonsensical ehrebung at really enjoying a smoke for the first

time in the morning as you look out the window. it is brisk and sunny and the bricks of the buildings look beautiful. think what a day what a day etc. then actually try to accomplish something with friends in

PARK SLOPE. understand finally that the general agreement is you whack as shit. then find a letter from your girlfriend from awhile ago and feel uplifted all over again for some reason but as for positivity

you do not discriminate. drink horn of sun to fierce last dregs. think about whether you are actually thin or just think you get thinner when you are really just used to how fat you are. talk to your girlfriend at

a certain point mentioned in section A. while on break for way too long.

sweat out a cluttered subway ride every morning forever. decide to jump off the BROOKLYN BRIDGE then decide not to. look meaningfully at a

church because you are reading twilight of the idols. repeat a lot of different stuff at irregular intervals. repeat stuff at regular intervals. learn that those statements are an acceptable example of an irregular repetition: or is

irregular as regards time only, not difference: an irregular life has less to do with fiber than we think. an irregular life can be as varied as disposition to pate : : as feeling to brokenness, as alteration altered to fear of change

might comfort one back into the nest of ignorance : it doesn't have to mean as regards, well, anything : it itself can be fiber, a fibrous fiber: so: we scrounge for something burred underneath the soft netting: crack up: put way too much

weight in your presence at social events : leave social events early or go to sleep in front of everybody pretending to be passed out : see social events as a total stressor : don't kno what to do : never know what to do ever: social

events. assume yourself a negative, discomfited person thereby. lose all friends because you dig deep into stupidity to find a reason for it, think about it until you go blind, rectify and rectify till all's a mess: is that what you want: yes:

friends are lost based upon too many simpering blasted apologies. really wish that you will leave a good looking corpse and do leave a good looking corpse. wonder why you don’t think about childhood very often, as in the concept.

see section A. come to the conclusion that fuck yes it is too late to have a happy one but really come to understand that that doesn’t matter as all things are for a time anyway but then get pissed off about this because you then realize as well

that you are mere mortal and still fields of open grass and oak away from describing something beautiful or whatever but then also wonder that you are infinite wherein the moment is concerned: and then think about your ex

for some crazy reason because all that matters is the past as regards what you’d want to retain in some eternal rolodex of spite or some shit, or maybe it’s just you but you can’t reimburse your mom because of all the infinite

you’re feeling and tell her you can’t and she says that is okay but doesn’t mention that it is ok because the advent of your twenties was mainly depressing, and you there, in room, gnawing at psyche like some useless ape as usual say, WELL

OUT WITH IT, and there she goes finagling a fart out of her ass your mom we are speaking of your mom and her aggravation and her remnant pain from a lost job years ago because oh certainly to fail once is to fail forever

and then you as you are young realize the moment is forever and you can make it a failure and you can make it a wonderful revealing of some big thickened BLEAR asking for property, asking for sense to be given it but you

can’t you can’t justify the dread nay [beckett] nor the odd ghosts in your bathroom that time you spoke to yourself for days and and and so then so then the weekend promises at least an end to this damned ineradicable

gloom and empty state as in empty and taxing but no state of emptiness no state of gloom yet here is gloom here is the reflections of a man refusing too long to look in the damn mirror and see himself is it you or is it i or is it all

the damn farts from the woman who birthed you wanting to be the final whiffing sound as to all of your gutsy failures and drudges through fields of stone and grass and oak you paint out of a backpack and some green

carpet in your room that one time you tripped balls on a tuesday on mushrooms and the razor talked to you and proved by its unassuming nature a very grill to the face that damned long face of a son too burnt

into his own damned house and wired by the damned eternity that sounds like some resilient, grand tocsin, some priketh ye some don’t but ya know it’s all just plain forgotten and happy at that, I’d live in codes wordless

more than explain this meaninglessness and/or stain on the life of time, that is humanity: that is growth: that is the paradigm of something written, written, scratched along the judgments of your mom’s farting fucking

asshole, your grown ass self, so proud to put on pants, so good at that one joke made riskily at a party and relished ever afterwards, so good at failure, happy failure, happy, happy to enter that small crack in the sadness too, happy

to bloom out of dismissal, shunning, happy to mature past the point of needing a single reason for a fart, an end, or a waste of mind. turn 30.

repeat. [etc] see section A.] ?? . . . .

RAGE on rage on, collapse into morning day like something of a storm, at least Frightful mist, some thunder bloom / glass incipient of the troubling harrowing: Some awful precondition. Out its frightful bells: wetly dew paints grass lucent-

-And I rise away from all that in my small cave in my state an eye half open, My knuckles are red from cracking them on my own jaw very a lot that night And some banging head i.e. sleep deprivation considered itself and made it

Worse. I thwarted myself continually mind whanging useless and thickly, like Sometimes i feel like that hamster I had when I was in middle school, wasn't, That i never named - - - uh, worth, it, wasn't worth it . S'ok it's ok for things

To no be worth it. Don't cry well then here's a fucking cookie Tard. I literally Just spat up phlegm right on my computer / no joke / I am freakish, & loud Also re hamster-mortality: I kno it is tragic, my girlfriend lost HAMSTERR

Named peanut. An entire quadrant of space specking thru eyes of that thing All day . Dont think ive evr done this much speed in one night (lol) i dont think i should be able to backtalk : this quick speed = religious,

[chalk dust molars fanatical facial people crunch 'em with 'em to dust. be sure to drudge up spume in the foggy brume some master floater or for sake of interracial justice an inanimate image of justice untarnished by opinion

or blaspheme. vulgar just for sake of cashing in on the weird honey : dip in there : of big politics etc anticipatory raging, prolepsis, summoner say : ARiSE ! ! !! : my girlfriend: she is sleeping right next to the and oh like a lamb she is, right

next to the voodoo-man, shepherd, making us all fly thru the honey right into some strict objective eye, truly naked vision, making commune with image and self. - - ] She goes on dozing into me and snoring soft like a, like subtle universal truth, or

Somethin. My snot is stuck in the bakc of my skull, i feel, i feel like waking up my Girlfriend with my hands all over like tidal waves : : i know hamstermortality, to let The reader kno : it is the wave of arcanum 17 : it is, it is waft of hope, like random

Prescience. Iit is the great like space etc of all, or some completely lazy encompassing. Kewl things only exist cuz hm i guess they exist for — — time, like hamsterts, Hamsters = meaning of universe, it’s like classical semantics or fuzzy logic:

Supervaluationists predicting borderline cases!!! How many hairs must i lose before You can call me bald : for the hairs will exist alway / they will, they will scream out : They will be a thing that is they are the very fuxxx god calls logic

Slash these words apart, greet blame and slash that, grab the bags: Run from the rage then, drum up some possibility for fuel, beat legs For leagues. ‘Message’ after ye with a bat, won’t get a thing so. But

Kicked up dust he’ll cough on, sweat drooling, finally fatigued: marigolds Fooling in the wind around him, agh, long day: we run into the ‘Pome’ Later: find it sucking on a sugar lump in some coffeeshop, well, money:

Who knew, who but the pivot finally: as drain groans a fable like a job to Do. Shit twists with flood and the seagulls berating lend belief at it all with Solid statement, caw, caw, wishing, duh, To Be Done With Message

Of course, especially one that some brine of heart sloshed up: some Reticular wisdom like as hair, hateful : some weird gloss over shadow Dims the bald head, the bald ‘Message’ - the crested ol’ bigot furious

Yawp yapping damnable in that there roast for the father: big squeeze, Squeeze of animus. Finally, down the block of stillness, down dug into The brig, obstructed color, rigid air, manic doors, kids laughing at him:

Little Mile : : feel it all over again : what answers can we get to as regards You fully: an elliptical, maybe? Or trash, or earthy disarrangement, dirt, Particles resulting in flipflop, wages made but unfulfilled for good? Or

Maybe marigolds !! Breezes coming out of their loops into wiggling weight Themselves, hulking as cathedral tunes, heavy with ambiguous threadiness, And that holy torment of an ever-figuring progenitor, professor of the

'Message'—black & bleak—against the righteous curiosity, ol' puff-head, ol' Apoplectic, Sorry For The State Of - - and dese homeless parties of the Sad. The sad chase, the chase as I must do is still solo. But grand, the

Hemophilic fire, the rusty brigade o’ pleaches o’ daffy hair, dummy cunt To stake on cosmic sex, just a blowoff: still. Then. Little dragoons whiffed It up anyways and blessed the fakery past mythos into real, made a great,

Big sepulcher for all 'em fathers: all the risks at tacky jive: lagoon: great, Great swoon of fibrous living out the ducky’s little murmuring in the mud, Tump-a-tump with buckles o’ swash : #dgaf : yet is we da pirate , as in ,

We is , we ah make anything magnificent and say it is that and leave it So. We. Croon and wait for that swell damned music’s dish to punch big and soft into the pillow : we: meet poetry POETRY POETRY POUR IT ALL

And soft into th. pillow. We. Down a side-street : have a baffled-eye ‘a sec: Din in the den gets closed the sisters ears : think some nature-shit: stfu: Bucolic site there wispy girl : pencil neck : root , , , for Image-Pleasant:

For you that is : root for the Panjundrum not, in his anger-yells all daffy, Deadening reasons for the noise, amplified like a big [bracket] to the side Of something, past declaration, past the final honesty and towards some

New squeamish chuck of ew-grease out of my bad throat : 'Message' Attempts to toughen with - providence, it feels, it knows - of mere scraps Of itself, and then I emit new strings for my shoes, frayed knot, couple

Stoners ranting in a parking lot when one sees a human innim and flees, From eye of him : one states the [bracket] as annotation even though it Supplies nothing : mere notation is as much enclitic for an infidel sense

As rhyming to behead borders of rhythm with timing , adding meaning Like chaff at the end while a sprocket ebbs out then 'splodes at once, a Gathering of mite and fingernail and bedding shod in the cracks under

The bland couch then sets aflame, burning down the garbage, which is Everywhere : police police : fuck da : : whelp : lost musings only whelm As much as one is willing to go rapidly , that is, will be as quality as the

Quicken, enacting some different statement thru defensive natures of style Like Declension : Logoaedic : parse the thought, then let it run before the Jello melts, food gets cold: picnic raped by ants. Premise of the rule. So the:

Uh: bracketed, shuffling fragged things dole more out for the warmness, As in, have something mean what it means, leave it at notation , make the Final well and, "End like a spear, not like a broom" - - Well, who knows

About honor: maybe just to prove myself I will right something really for Awhile too messed for the husbandman to mould with his ass: drop the Incisive manacles, they get my wrist bit with copper: write to right a thing

You never mention: madden out copper tongues: make demands about Stuff you have no idea you are actually talking about: but that's not going To mention itself either and is perhaps what is missing for the right reasons:

So why yell out proper tongues if that is all tongues want is their own voice To hock a spray of legit logey sniffed up the nasal psg. and out into the World. Well. Garbage burns itself to slew. But you like that. You enjoy

The mesmerized epiphanic trumpeting, priketh, prike prike : nasty uncle, He was , and a bald head a sunshine away from DEATH-LAZER. Stun, But be stupid as brick. As was said, I speak to reflect mirrors in darkness.

Should be obvious. Maybe this inkling of finding a new way to speak'll Dart straight for the first reason to pant and wave commodities at the sullen Sucker-tourist upon losing his next day's provender at the hands of silly kids.

DeMand: Wring rungs out proper tongues, lick pompous, drone on in thatt Stat o’ thing: status of thing: state of things: rut t tt t t t tt t tt t t tttt tt t t t t tttt Guts me : feeling in’t I feel nothing but in hole: & & & & & & & & & & & & &

Still the great compilers edge more into the fantastic, learn to eat it along with The tragic as one happy meal. Eventual blossom, hoping Mary and Ed ride fine Off into the sunset, cans tied to the bumper clicking like cliché: Jesus is sick :

He tells me so much is at risk here : then again, who could harbor such a feel But Big J or Yeezy : : well he’s a prick : that’s why you shouldn't music so much: I don’t listen to music nomores: even you’re tarnished bc of all this harlot noise

Attempting heaven, & whatnot : WHAT? WHO THN ?? WHAT THEN ?? So Fortunately, I’m Done. Getting into ye head. I’m already there. Felt random & Also, tortuous pressure spread keen thru label after label, waiting for sustenance,

It was given, as if words could ugh the body with ugh : feed me with 'don't' is What the character 'Message' means. This sentence means it is myself declaring A sentence. That is what it means, and the Myself in it shines out of that part of

It like some beautiful renegade oxygen, a distillation more perverse, a naked way, A death of all that damnable stuff we got our heads warped around in like some Exquisite Fucking Turban [tho false] tho, maybe drunk off picked points smacking

Of defeat, well : : : such's to give up meaning at all - - MESSAGE _a t_ _a l l_ [?] As if words could damage the body : does language uh have one string it can plukk To stop the heart?[.] Or does it all. Well. Uh, lose weight: is it a fascinating receptacle,

Or mere extensiveeverything: ” Do You Believe In God.” – – – – – – I wouldn't be Able to give you anything for jesus, much less Jews. HAve little idea what I believe. Belief is odd. I think I believe in, just, being chased, you know, for thievery. It's a

Saturated L.A. sun like in this song by [The National] it is called "Pink Rabbits." it Is really damn good I remember feeling like the string to my heart almost cut that one Time. But I couldn't tell you anything a medium in some spooky curtained shop

Wouldn't be able to perform with a bit more erggh 'flair' well damn I despise flair write To construct a core or write to DeMand to write or write to right something wrong w. Your sister's [hairdo] or write about strings. Write about all the strings. What all of

Them would do if connected THE WORLD IS POME across the globe. Don't think There'd be much room else for people. Well no worries then, you’ll steal hunches till you Can’t even breathe a thinnest wisp of sister-air. Enjoy never figuring out anything. I

Like to tip-toe but that's no way to run , I gotta say the world is fucked w/o a point , , , The drain is really sick [!] w. all this flood it might as well be the guts of garbage And the rightness of wrong , of the failed and of lineage thru language do we bring

Our own booze do we sing some amped version of the obvious soullessness everybody Gets to grate all over everybody else like some annoying sadness too small for this World, too inscrutable to be anything bt what it is, what it is not anything, as POME

Is words, not ideas, get subjugated by need to buddy up with certainty by corroborating This or that line with another, breaking another, letting pennies go slipshod thru da Grate, while all the while mighty confusion rends a new surprise in plain polished sight,

But o the bees in my gut wig out more folly but as plain to live and hope by their ruin To bring the ties untangled, yes, state the statement-as-goal, martyr a few mirrors thru Indelible mistake, ending Kierkegaard at Democritus' river etc. NO WE NEVER

STEP THRU THE SAME RIVER TWICE NO NOR PERHAPS ONCE, anyways, The bees escape nathless from a pirson-prison. In spite of all this floppy flotsam, Like some weird torture. The stingings bless, the robust yellow flow mitred across

De backs uf'm. And I still considerable, a regular pill for the unagog men still seeing Me unsightly, some lack, some twit, some spook : er something as like, as what god Makes of his leftovers in the afternoon between jobs: but me young boss: HOSS:

What?, zooks, gain, what gain 'questionmark' nothing an adorable steeple could not Bring together as all us wonderful people together rise them, these middle fingers- -Pointing up UP UP, run with lacking, then, fuck, huh?, shut up, suited only to

Sslipped phrase, the bank account gets canceled & yr out on the streets with only Luck and Fucks to feed you. Wiring runoff, shattered, wrecked, fetid, but all of it So Human that nobody seems to mind: neither of those three words can understand

My theosophy, nor gainsay, I'm too cryptic: : fault fault, fault fault, thwartedness- -But still continuance, shorn but not straight dead. Lucky but suffering. What a bore, To get brought in by force, to the party, snatch a few lichen, press against petri dish

To make dialogue unheard of or no at the party what this is about, this sleight of hand, This emotional screening we seize up and clench our asshole to forget about, rot in it I Say, row those sewage tentacles, mandibles, new legs from the mess, new smack to

The veins, new shot, lessening as day and eyesight, NARCAMNARCAM. Ruin stake [valuesystem] bless me achoo gradient risen sceptic collide me w truth,

Ruin stake dress me up in my garters and delirious falbalas at table, valuesystem,

Run to the ruin: make stand up puppetry the rotary: vast tracts of time enable the- -Child to believe he is infinite. Child god goes wishing-wishing at peak, wishing To see: you flee from definition like that stoner guy from earlier all the time, you

You let the questions mysteries bleed out thru yr fanciful cufflinks: drat: quaint: Wanna bleed staid blood. Want to create the hurt that must hurt, that must come: Just to have some control, as elusive blood, got to pour lopsided from a precious

Wound : : we gaze into ourselves and do not speak, wondering what batty thing Happened back there: we go wishing to dash away performance with a little more Laze: 5-year-old Genius. But yea. But, with you I shuffle into someone free. You

You see the curtain and you know the pianist is behind it nodding off into overdose: You are knowing what curtains mean and that curtains rarely help to cover meanings: You realize there is nothing to peek at nothing to see so you shrug and go home to

Your death, ever-approaching some more-appropriate redness , , , but the redness in The West , tho. What's with that haze that looks like the hoarsest GLARE of all: It is the shot in the arm taken too breezy, brought you to the finale, the glimpse then

Recession into embedding blank blankets of so-and-so upon your life, weighty big Deaths greeting you with comfort, delicious sating of the lorn, and raggedy willful Bravery so long perceived like an animal, that is, now seen so much to salute. So I

Have access now into your maze : it is dangerous here : bees go grinding against the Gut. Entrails that trail haphazard underneath everything forever : the flighty frolic Of your hair, sister : good on you for nvr doing hoarse/horse. Your hair that speaks

In looks looks like the bigger maze, the bigger harder hug to give one day when just , When things get better: just so one don't get bitter, what from examining all sides of The same pipe dream. DeMand, and makes thus bigger dissonance w. me. Say me,

Of your aspect, at base, nothing less, your talent is my name and sister-curse, my uh My name is one to have in spades, you gotta have it so it radically disappears under A veil mentioned elsewhere in full wherein the chase is always and never the point

As your legs, extremities exist by the disappearance of a prior location, or some Name, some name called death we get into other ideas 'bout. But it is a lost name. Bu I cannot bless more than I bleed. Whatever that means. Perhaps I tell

This to others, they do not offer but stares and blinking : oh alienation : what an Easily dismissible thing : REAL PROBLEMS hah : in that case, those girls Kidnapped in Nigeria're having real problems : suffering is subjective & hell

We, as In I, Race Towards It as anything the wiser, wise as answer, jus cast answer, Jus cast ANSWER:- whatever happen to be, jus quake out a few inappropriate Inabilities in front of anyway, including meshing: hear aspersions there, here

And there: I say, if one feels pathos then uh                              you know the whitest lash fuck express it, fuck!, don’t you                        painful on your brow                                                                              loose the snow came, bother with a perfect shape as the                   clad in crammed houses families shape you have is naturally a very          frown at homies, themselves children, improvisation, imperfect as a sky                made random and the same                                                                                 as all storm, asleep flakes or something, like, one sky, just                        made like me to feel like an actor one. i guess, uh. that is what i                                       make like to me guess. that nothing happens if we                                     within the thin walls,                                                                   while bruised dads glimpse the hood are indifferent or something. give           in rochester,   barely guap to eat, to obsession, passion etc. then uh                       my father runs into a grand jizz what follows’s a thing the greater                                  on the way back                                                                        captures it and puts it in a safe . for therapy. write on for therapy?                               his father was a vato, well fuck yes. do it and do it and                           gift-wrapping raining down do it. i like channeling whitman , ,           on christmas, wanting to capture fame                                                                                       and getting the pink slip . cuz it’a means wealth, like, iduno                    it was majestic, slowly he i guess like, [vulgate,vulgate] it    drowned in throat cancer, later. my dads hates is freewheeling all over the place                christmas, but at least he caught                                                                                     a good fuck in childhood and without regards -blank- see yu kno, i cant write on tumblr atm bc something is wrong with my uhhhhhh

keyboard. it doesn’t allow me to , ,          delete the space between one anddd             another line. so i am writing this

                                   to you. it’s probably not really i guess to interesting just see that infinitesimal cube understood so , ,

uh, distantly, as me here, in this room, hanging out with whitman! as in i see ‘im, right here. he is in

the corner smiling to himself bout some private meditation, mostttttt likely. have you figured out this

is a msg in enjambments yet?, you are really cool and ring out , , , , , , despite, right?, whether or not or

            maybe regardless. PART II : : : : ERHEM: fast sadness folds in a toilet like down it you know like those soothing squares, gulls take to the particles after response to command goes lagging, and the aqueduct explodes filter to filter after longing for more than garbage could recall, prideful trash–

garbage i done made myself blind blabhah i done made a bad hither, done dash right into the fount of degrading. i feel very such things as i feel and call them detritus still. i am monstrous i am - big eye, i can fuck myself without any charity-help from anybody.

i am to call myself things like topaz once the giddy girth sloshes within a pictureframe's modest dimensions, and the sharks while snapping snapped alive by the implied sort of movement given only to starkly imperishable images that lighten you up at the art

show. well its time t-to start from the start and start a movement founded on a ginger ignorance of other movements. is i-t: is time to start from the beginning of focus way past bemused glance, ripe glare, teeth beside themselves w cavities of roe and garlic:

it’s time to inaccurately anticipate something, like we knew it was coming and wanted our surprise to look nice. anticipate the perfect slur, find a wide audience for that: it is, uh, time to enact maelstrom considerably, like, lofted above the saddest cloud's

drenching of itself: clouds they are clowns : be sure to recognize the hidden voice, what rattles us is not the mystery of how and logical wherefore but in transmuting some odd warfare of a distant crud's finding, that is - - - it is not what links but what is explained,

which for me is the distance crud, or clod, i call planet : am i a part of it or do i depart from its frequent accusings, importances, rudeness, and flat commodity, material, or just shattered booms hailing the demise of precept got so infrequent that one, less

righteous, is more thru the confessional of the lessness, a lesson : us, , rule, , : the sea like an antelope’s stride is, that is, like the picture purely between man, shark, and sea, of slopping sides over the frames of the picture: something by movement not volume,

by not expanse but a few flits of eye - big eye, - regardless of bigness it is, is and will be there for when the ranting stays, crucial delectable bizarre 'mischance of machinery' while the self goes further out, taken by the turning tides, and then yet this is a bit more

than mangling the heart by placing it on sleeve; this will always be here, distant, or like, remote!, yeh, better word!, you will disassociate whatever

from whatever, [edittttttttttt ttt ] from your blinding clarity [edit] : : you will take an eye out for the bossman cannot : since

wills black as char make the crud, clod, dusty clod, a piece of crud: "shouldn't be so hard to have a nice day." Mutter and grimace. wake up to totally remove yourself in the only way possible, that is, from the world of dreamstate: and piss dole me a new

self of yuck and maelstrom. PART III : : drying the die out of to play craps . or somethings like pinochle of life itself, shouted madman. made anterior who wants the soul who wants it made outside of use I see. something— / something digs for a very hinting it goes like something as must to stop,

as much to save the world as self by saving declamatoriations [!!!!!] declarations yeas, declaiming . / well go ahead and rue the ensuing bratty corps of lifer’s whom stake much on image / nada -rtiet- [edit] editwrite made something is^^^ within that words

them words something letters inverted salamander-language seen spanking new by breaking every rule, ruling over breaks like you had more time. / discovering the body, etc. and it all makes you want to imprint on the wise world some attmept, to do more

by removal of sense if sense is not snuffed out already by now in this senseless world, just going on and on!!!! to the creakiest hints shuffling under floorboards like captives from the bad!! quite the soul search. make more inklings, don't harry yourself, I say,

to discover a bunch of cool shit, also, uh, master it. master thinking in language. maybe i always never did nitpick and nitpick only yeup that is me I knit together the nits the nits are scratchiness, a scratchiness. then I think about how nice honesty is as re the slow

deliverance or rather sparing of us all by the most high / as by and by,, we grope for some bigger socket to launch a sensitivity of me I we errybody into, and me and ha and ha. ALERT. cannot diverge ALERT ALERT ALERT!!! Whoop show./Whopp whoop

whoop, can’t but take it down I wsiwiwsh i wish i was blind, i wish the rails weren’t so sharky : : so bloome [!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 5$%uh September 13, 2014. Leave a comment Edit POME34 there is language to report, a monster essence. hammer away

and believe till the growth gets funnier and then throw it away handsomely / feel it run like sand thurr rthru your thru thru you[edit]hrought your fineger.s ample tome, im ean time, to write, requite certain disposable nothings like a big random power/ mind goes

and glowers at itself again. ah you kno. broken triangle. anything broken becomes an angle or many. a ziggidy line or somesuch. / so break a whole, rift it to life as some ziggidy line. some sorta line that breathes with uncaring for anything like information

but retaineing formless form as if your occupation was with something else/ let relax the

strands in you ankel, let the angel fall my dear / dont deny it / yur a good person, dammit. all the se facile blunders. all this. these stupid years of making. in the making,

or just making, about too. etc. greqat. great magnificent quiet [edit] is that which i search for and make and build into the most complex geometric shape for good / only to rift it and - - make what people would holy-fy even more bettr than the more better it was /

bby oh how you go on concealing pleanty of plaintiveness. am i nice ?? so what if you are. youre a stara special star . . . yr starved, strande line you ssay you are a bulk of issues you say you dance like a man made

of things .. light as wing . dwindle. wind. light as wind. so much so much to destroy sitll. my eyes need more blurs t[edit] to in order make everything wrong rightwise. foreget aspbergers. or any label / speak pretty

mane’s ruffling sinousity in wind. / a bloke with flow / gnarly [edit] speak charlie stude the sirfur, charlie stud is he who rides the wave, rides wthe wave in /by just meeting

wit ha hello and a hahaha at ripe ombustive ripe combustiveness at / a large offense

it’s ya girl moose back at it again what’s good ?? as per usual....HMU or LIKE THIS if u wanna plot and i’ll come to u. matty is not as big of a pos as most of my other character so hopefully y’all like him. catch his pinterest HERE. more info under the cut~

( jeremy allen white )? no that’s ( mathieu sauvé ) the ( twenty-four ) year old ( hockey player ). who has been in town ( one year ) and reminds everyone of ( crushed beer cans, freshly sharpened ice skates, and goofy chipped tooth smiles ). maybe it has something to do with the fact the ( cismale ) is always ( self-indulgent & vacuous ) or ( enthusiastic & dependable ). either way ( he/him ) is apart of the town.

goes by matty bc most people can’t say mathieu right. if u call him matthew...........he will be very upset because he is a lil snooty québécois bitch !!!! idk if y’all are or know anything about french canadians but they are indeed snooty (as one of them i can Confirm)

he got a cute lil accent hon hon hon

anyway !!!! he was born and raised in montreal by a single mom, and spent basically his entire childhood playing hockey. if not on skates for the league team, then on the road playing with the other neighbourhood kids.

he had a twin named gabriel & the two of them were......absolute best friends. total inseparable but they were v different and were in totally different crowds in high school ?? his brother was more of a like.....skid i guess asdhkj like wasn’t rly in the good crowd & he was bullied a lot in school and......matty wanted to stick up for him but at the same time didn’t want to like fuck up his own reputation u kno ??  he was kind of a dick

gabe ended up passing away from an overdose after a party when they were 16 and it was rly fucking awful like......that’s was his twin man and suddenly he was gone??? and suddenly he was filled to the brim with guilt and regret for not sticking up for him and helping him out when he had the chance

he was very angry about the whole thing & rly......actually made him better at hockey??? it provided him a rly good outlet to get his frustrations out

and also he partied a LOT

his professional hockey career started when he was 18, right out of high school playing for the ahl toronto marlies and played for them up until last year

he is what the cool kids call a goon........or an enforcer if u wanna be fancy. basically that mean he just.....fights people?? like anyone who does one of the better players or the goalie dirty it’s just his job to fuck them up by checking them v aggressively or just....decking them ( which he prefers tbH he luvs to fight)

so he isn’t really great at the game itself but he is good at what he does and he gets a fuck ton of penalties but that just means he’s doing his job right (kind of shdifjf)

his nickname is the suave scrapper

rn he is a prospect for the arizona coyotes and plays for their ahl affiliate, the tuscon roadrunners. he just played with them for the first time in their 2017-2018 season

and honestly thank god bc he fucking hates toronto with a passion. decided to live in tallow bc it seems like a nice lil place and he doesnt mine the commute.

he......hates the weather tho like ya boi needs the cold to live!!!!! his canadian ass is dying

10000000000% a mama’s boy. he misses his mom so much....prob talks to her on skype or facetime every day. she is his entire world and he loves her sm

probably the dumbest person u will ever meet. he lacks academic smarts as well as just general common sense. ur run of the mill idiot. he’s very like.....me play sport, me punch things. probably just recently learned how to do his own laundry

basically a man child

he loves food and he eats A LOT. but he is an athlete so he needs those carbs goils !!!!!! he rly loves american food like give him a big ol’ cheeseburger and he’s drooling like a dog. also loves breakfast foods like way too much

but other than that he’s generally v healthy bc...he’s gotta be

has had too many concussions to count and has a bunch of fake teeth after having ‘em knocked out or chipped while playing hockey. he won’t tell u which ones tho. but it’s a lot

he was really popular and cool in high school (bc that’s how hockey bois be) and he had a lot of girls that like fawned over him, which rly distorted his own perception of himself and now he thinks he’s like.....rly hot shit and that he’s very charming when really he’s just a big dumb oaf 

but he honestly just........loves girls so much??? he loves everything about them and he’s very open about this. like...not even just banging girls but just generally he thinks that girls are the most wonderful beings to grace the earth and he will worship any girl who even TALKS to him or gives him the time of day. girls are so magically and he has a crush on every girl he meets

he’s definitely the kind of person to have had a lot of girlfriends in the past not bc he’s a player or anything but bc like i said....he has a crush on every girl ??? he just gets so lonely when he isn’t like seeing someone or isn’t like.....flirting with or like doesn’t have a thing with someone i guesS???? he just loves love and has a lot to give

thinks ppl who are just being nice are flirting and thinks ppl who are flirting are just being nice

so he’s like........lowkey a soft boy even tho he is very.......punchy

at the same time tho he is kind of a dick and will be like.....talking to other guys about how many girls he’s fucking and how he’s such a ladies man and whatever but he actually is......a bumbling mess and the worst at flirting but that doesn’t stop him from trying

doesn’t understand that sex doesn’t equal feelings ??? and.....fwb don’t rly work out for him bc he is destined to catch feelings and then be like shook when they aren’t reciprocated

just recently got out of a pretty long relationship?? him & his girlfriend lana tried to make it work long distance bc she didn’t want to leave toronto and it didn’t work out, and she dumped him a few of months ago. he found out that she was cheating on him both before and after he moved away. it was very difficult for him & they dated for a p long time so he is still like....v heart broken but he’s getting back out there

he started smoking because lana did and he wanted her to think he was cool and now he wants to quit but can’t bc.....every cigarette reminds him of her and he’s a big sappy idiot with a broken heart

but he doesn’t do any drugs!!!!! obviously he is a Sports man

he drinks a lot tho. always has and always will love beer with a burning passion. he parties a lot and is basically always hungover but he’s here for a good time not a long time!!!!!!!!!!! just wants to have fun and do this Thing

he is very social and can’t like......stay home alone for long period of time??? like he needs friends and needs to be out doing something or else he goes insane

he is very loyal tho like.......would definitely set himself on fire & fight 7 thousand people for u if ur his friend

very goofy & always joking around. to be quite honest..............he is a walking talking Meme

he is a simple man. not very complicated. he’s honest for the most part and what u see is what u get. a very good listener. u can depend on him and he will b there

probably definitely mostly straight but who knows tbh

ok here’s some connections y’all can...throw at me

workout buddies!!! u know he’s living that Gym life & doesn’t like to be alone so that would b lit

friends!!!! pls he needs...........................so many or else he will Die

hookups !!! fair warning tho he will.....prob fall in love w them

party pals !! ya boy is a party animal and again...he ain’t gonna do it alone!!!

maybe....someone that makes him rly mad & he wants to figHT them

idk to be honest.....anything

more can b found here

Idk if you're still doing prompts but maybe "You’re safe now. I’ve got you." for jackcrutchie, if you want?

Hi! I finally had a chance to write this! I actually have never read or written a JackCrutchie fic, but the ship is lovely and tbh idk why i haven’t gotten into it yet? I’m excited to give it a shot! I basically took the concept from the musical (when Jack mentions that he visited Crutchie, but he was too injured to even come to the window) and I changed it up a little to fit what I wanted. Feedback is appreciated!

79. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Jack! Jack, HELP!”

Crutchie’s pained cries echoed in Jack’s ears as he quietly made his way to the Refuge, hidden in the dark shadows cast by the nearby buildings. He tried to move as quickly and as efficiently as possible, though he was afraid his own heartbeat pounding could possibly wake the guards with how loud it seemed inside his own head. He stopped for a moment, holding his shaking hand against his chest, attempting to calm himself so he could actually come up with a plan.

Taking a large breath, Jack continued on, pressing his back up against the occasional alley wall when he heard voices or saw lights heading in his direction. There was no way he was gonna let his best friend suffer in the Refuge alone while he got to wander free, though guilt stricken as he may be. He simply had to break him out. This whole situation was his fault anyway.

Sighing once more, Jack tried to push away the thoughts of the previous days. The police knocking Romeo off of his feet, Les staring in to his eyes, panicked and scared, Race attempting to take on Oscar and Morris Delancey by himself, Crutchie being hit with his own system of support, the strike falling apart right before Jack’s eyes.

Jack tried to drown out the ringing of the word failure repeating itself over and over again in his head.

“So much for good ol’ Cap’n Jack.” He muttered, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the refuge, a run down brick building with several dark windows scattered around the walls. There was absolutely no light coming from the structure, making Jack curse quietly as he hopped over a knocked over trash can and ran up to the side of the building, immediately backing up against a windowless section of the wall, taking a moment to come up with some sort of idea on how to reach Crutchie.

Glancing upward, Jack caught sight of the fire escape winding its way up toward to top of the Refuge. He pursed his lips. No kid caught in there would attempt to escape down the rickety old thing for fear of being heard, seen, or tattled on, but Jack had escaped Snyder once and he wasn’t afraid to do it again. He just had to have Crutchie with him this time.

God, Crutchie.

Jack couldn’t even imagine what the poor boy had been through the first night. He remembered his own first night in the Refuge vividly, how he had to fight off some older boys who tried to steal his stained blankets and stale food from him. Even without a bad leg, Jack had struggled to get rid of them. Crutchie, as tough as he was, didn’t stand a chance, and Jack couldn’t deal with the guilt he would feel simply leaving the boy there alone. He meant too much to Jack, with his kind demeanor and stupid, charming smile, and the way he made Jack feel all warm inside, like there was still some good left in New York and it was standing right in front of him.

“Damnit, Crutchie.” Jack murmured, slinking over to the staircase of the fire escape. He gripped the metal until his knuckles turned white, desperately racking his brain for some way to contact the other boy and find out what window he was near without waking the whole damn building. A few moments passed where Jack grew increasingly frustrated, but eventually he, being the impulsive and slightly ridiculous boy he was, decided to simply start climbing and go from there.

As quietly as he could, Jack made his way up the fire escape, wincing at every creak and groan of the metal, begging it to somehow stay quiet under his weight. He paused once he had reached the middle of the building, moving out of the way of the windows, seeing as some of them were cracked open due to the summer heat. Letting himself relax against the cool bricks, Jack looked down at the windows near his knees, hoping the breeze outside was making its way through the cracks, providing some relief to the poor kids inside.

Wait… some of the windows were cracked! Of course!

Jack grinned, locating the nearest window that was propped open and kneeling next to it so he was out of sight yet able to let out a low whistle followed by two higher notes, a tone that was recognized by nearly every Manhattan newsie. Jack had started the trademark whistle as soon as he became the makeshift leader of the boys, using it whenever he needed to find one of them in a hurry, and soon the whistle became a common form of communication between them. He hoped that, should Crutchie be close, he would recognize the whistle and somehow be able to make it to the window.

It seemed that, tonight, every one of Jack’s prayers was being answered because as soon as he was considering repeating the whistle sound, he heard a weak voice call, “Jack?” into the night. His head snapped up. The voice had come from above, from a window one more level up on the fire escape.

“Jack, is that you?”

Crutchie’s voice was unmistakeable (his unique accent when he said Jack’s name was a dead giveaway), but it quivered slightly, nerves clearly present. Nevertheless, Jack beamed at the sound and responded hurriedly. “Yes! Yeah, Crutchie, it’s me! Listen, don’t move. I’m comin’ up there.”

“Jack ain’t that kinda dangerous?” The hushed voice called again. “You’s lucky that I was even awake. You can’t get caught again!”

“I ain’t gonna get caught!” Jack hissed, starting to tiptoe up the last staircase. “Which window are you at?”

“Third from the left.” Crutchie’s voice whispered. “Be careful.”

As soon as Jack made his way onto the proper level, he was sliding over to the window Crutchie described and crouching down in front of it. Sure enough, as soon as Jack peered inside, he saw Crutchie sitting at the edge of his lofted bed, illuminated by the pale moonlight, his his hands clutching the windowsill.

“Oh god, Crutchie.” Jack whispered, taking in the multiple bruises and cuts scattering the younger boy’s face and collar bone. He was dressed in nothing but an oversized, torn shirt and thin pants that were in a similar state. The blankets on his bed were strewn everywhere, and a recently blown out candle stood dripping wax onto the floor near his pillow. Jack moved closer to the window so he was able to crane his head and look around the rest of the room. It was small, only three or four bunks fit inside it, almost every bed full, but every figure seemingly asleep.

“It’s not as bad as you think.” Crutchie finally said, pulling himself closer to the edge of the window and adjusting himself so he was leaning on his good knee.

“Not as bad as I THINK?” Jack repeated, his voice going up in volume against his will. “Crutchie, they could’a killed ya! Look at you! You’s bruised n’ bleedin’ and you ain’t even been here two days!”

“SHHHH!!” Crutchie hissed, reaching out a hand to shove Jack’s shoulder. “Are you stupid or what? You wanna get us all in trouble?”

Jack scowled, clutching the hand that Crutchie had reached out to him. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, glancing around the room to check that everyone else was asleep, or at least feigning it. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he looked back to the injured boy sitting in front of him.

Without thinking, he reached the hand that wasn’t holding Crutchie’s and moved some of his messy hair out of his eyes. “I just… I hate seein’ you like this.” He tried to ignore the way his stomach churned when Crutchie leaned into his hand and shut his eyes. Attempting to even his breathing, Jack continued, “You’re safe now. I got you. I’m gettin’ you out of here.”  

To his surprise, Crutchie jerked his head away from Jack’s hand and leaned back from the window, falling back onto his butt, causing his bed to creak and him to wince. “What?” He asked, looking at Jack angrily. “No you ain’t.”

Jack looked stunned. It was his turn to ask “What?”

“You ain’t puttin’ the strike in danger to get me out.” Crutchie said, the quiver in his voice gone and the nervous look on his face replaced with a determined frown.

Jack sputtered for a second before managing to get out a “Wha- Crutchie! I came all the way here to rescue you. You’s just gonna turn me down?”

“Jack, you ain’t savin’ me now!” Crutchie responded fiercely. “I ain’t been walkin’ so good as it is and I’s already been soaked somethin’ fierce in here. They’s gotta let me out on they own or the whole strike’s gonna be messed up ‘cause of me.”

“How do I know they gonna let you out? I ain’t just leavin’ you here, kid.” Jack’s tone was turning desperate. “I ain’t leavin’ you here to get beat.”

“If you go back an’ win the strike, I’ll be let out. If you’s over here stuck in the refuge ‘cause of me… strike’s over, Jack. You needta go. Them newsies, they need you.” Crutchie replied, his voice calm yet driving Jack insane. How could he ignore his one opportunity to escape?

“I’m not leaving you.”

Crutchie sighed, running a hand through his hair and staring adamantly away from Jack, blush rising on his cheeks. “Why do you care so much anyway?” He mumbled, reaching down and fiddling with the sheets of his bed.

“Why do I care?” Jack replied, huffing out a laugh and leaning even more forward so that his elbows were resting on the window sill and his face was close to Crutchie’s. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to. You’s been there for me and now I’m here for you.” He moved a finger under Crutchie’s chin and tilted the other’s face toward him.

Crutchie allowed himself to be turned and looked back at Jack with glistening eyes, his face softening at the older boy’s words. After a slight pause, he smiled sadly.

“I know that you don’t wanna hear me say this, Jack.” He said softly, moving closer to Jack so that they were much closer than they had been before. Jack tried to keep his breathing even as he stared at Crutchie, wishing he could just drag him out of there and get him back on the street selling papes where he’d at least have some of his dignity back.

“I can’t go with you.”

Jack closed his eyes, disappointment filling his chest. He knew Crutchie was right, and he hated that he hand’t thought of it earlier. Of course the strike would be put in danger with Snyder on their tails, but he wanted Crutchie with him. It was selfish, but he didn’t care.

“I want you to.” He finally whispered, not sure why he was even saying it when Crutchie couldn’t be convinced. “I want to know you’re safe.”

“Hey,” Crutchie chuckled, nudging Jack’s shoulder. “I may be a dumb crip, but I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, tell that to the bruises on your ugly mug.” Jack grinned, grabbing Crutchie’s chin again and tilting his head from side to side, inspecting the damage.

“It was a one time thing.” Crutchie replied. “I was the new guy… the easiest target. I got it under control, Jack.” At Jack’s doubtful glance, Crutchie huffed and repeated himself. “I got it under control.”

Jack stared at him for a minute more, doubt still clear in his expression, but he didn’t want to patronize the boy in front of him, and somewhere deep inside him, he knew that Crutchie was one of the toughest people he had ever met, and he would be okay. He just hated that he couldn’t be there to ensure it. Crutchie seemed to sense his inner turmoil because he rolled his eyes and with a slight wince of pain, he propped himself up on his good knee and leaned up so his nose bumped Jack’s, bringing the other boy reeling back into reality.

He jerked back, unprepared for the sudden closeness between them. “What-“ He began to say, but Crutchie only rolled his eyes again, bringing a hand to the back of Jack’s head and pulling him forward.

His lips brushed against Jack’s, his touch feather light yet still sending shivers down the older boy’s spine. Jack was anything but prepared for the kiss, and Crutchie pulled away before he could reciprocate. He blindly followed the other’s movement before catching himself on the windowsill. His eyes shot open and he looked at a sheepish Crutchie, shock overtaking his whole body.

In a moment of great eloquence, Jack said, “Um.”

Crutchie barked out a laugh, clapping his hand over his mouth so he didn’t wake the other kids in the room. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Jack Kelly.” He said, his voice hushed.

Jack stared at him incredulously, shaking his head slightly and laughing himself. “You just…” He started, “God, Crutchie, you never stop surprisin’ me. I come here to rescue you and now you’s makin’ moves on me.”

Crutchie only snorted, shifting so he was sitting comfortably on his bed again, allowing more space between him and Jack. The older boy pouted, sticking his bottom lip out dramatically.

“Where ya goin’? I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” He whined, attempting to lean in the window again, only to be pushed back out by Crutchie.

“You’re insane.” Crutchie laughed. “I ain’t kissin’ you again.” He paused. “Well, not here at least.”

Jack grinned. “But you’s sayin’ you’ll do it again?”

Crutchie blushed ferociously, quickly glancing around the room to make sure everyone was still sleeping, noticing a few kids stirring, before whispering. “Maybe. If you get outta here an’ go win me a strike.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Crutchie held a finger up to his lips and shushed him.

“They’s gonna wake up, Jack. Go. I’ll be fine.”

Nodding silently, Jack retreated from the window, his heart still beating wildly and his brain still trying to wrap itself around the events that just occurred. Standing up and brushing his pants off, he gave Crutchie one last glance and smiled.

“I ain’t gonna let you down.”

Crutchie smiled back at him.

“I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

PROMPTS CLOSED (bc i have like 10 more to write oops)

I'm havin fun teachin ppl how 2 treat me. Still, annoyin shit tests me. I refuse 2 change my jouney 2 fit some1 else's vibe. Insteada fuss about whateva, I virtually vent about it & let that shit go. Latest annoyance: men not knowing how 2 properly communucate with me in a way that feels good. My response: Fellas, if u find a beautiful woman (online or otherwise) n ya wanna get 2 kno her better, meditate on the best approach 2 take. We r all living in the days of deep soul healin. Everything could feel like rejection. Everything can feel like a trigger. Address all ur insecurities B4 u holla @ ol girl. Speeecially if she is an awakened soul, like me. Me & my kind tend to not respond well 2 pressure. Our words just might hurt ya feelings & bruise what's remaining of ur ego. Which is really a gift. Ppls behavior & responses tell me what I need 2 kno about them. Short fused ppl usually have a fuq'd up childhood. They never learned 2 deal w/their trauma n my kno-it-all ass be workin they nerves... The most traumatized children grow up 2 be horny af as adults. The men usually hide behind women & voce versa. Using sex as a cover & their sexual partner as some1 2 cover up with. Not ova here baby 💆😒. If u kno this dude, or any1 like him, spread the word. These kinda exchanges feel.like shit r not welcome 2 my World. I thank ppl like Erik 4 being our latest life lesson 😉💕. My yoni is frfr on lock down til my hubby & I become 1. In the meantime, Imma keep cleanin me up. Remember, the ego is the false self. Clean u up b4 u go seekin a lover. N life will reward u 💕👽🔆😘 #711 #ElectricLady #TwerkNTone #TeamAlchemy #LuvNLite #HealChallenge #meditate #playstation #gamer #xboxone #knowledge #gaming #twitch #videogames #fortnite #battlefield #overwatch #forsaken #bungie #cod #pc #memes #callofduty #halo #destinythegame #bo #art #game #pcgaming #rainbowsixsiege #blackops #gta #gamers #gamergirl #instagram #motivation https://www.instagram.com/p/BsuFph_nLy-/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=2clhlk793upz

Mona Lisa

By GambitXLeBeau Short Piece Based on Panic At The Disco's, Mona Lisa... A few weeks had passed since anyone had heard from the swamp rat last. No one knew what he had exactly been up to and he had left the X-Men team for a while now. Not even Jean had known where his son had ran off to and no thief could track down a location. That is until Rogue had left the cajun a message, "If yah still alive swamp rat, ah'd like yah to meet me at that restaurant where we first went. XOXO -Anna Marie." That was the reason a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle LS-6 pulled into the parking lot of a Chili's on the outskirts of New York City. He struck out the butt of his cigarette while stepping out of the vehicle. Passing eyes checking out himself and the car as he closes the door and looks longly around himself. He walks on the sidewalk and enters into the restaurant that two teenagers in love had once came to. The food was good as far as he could remember, but seeing her back turned to him, all he could think about was the pair of them drawing toons on their hands. Her curly hair still a beautiful mess and her body as slender and petite as any lover could remember. "Don' tell me ya already started drinkin' before moi." He teases as she calls his name, "Remy," and gives him a hug. He reads her over and studies her voice. The way she says his name. The way she seats herself at the table. The way she looks at him. He knows this trip will be quicker than expected and he can sense that both of them are testing the sins of the other. "Been a while since Gambit been able t'hear that sweet southern drawl." He smiles back at her and sits down across from her. Anna blushes and furrows her brows, "Oh shush up ya ol' swamp rat." Remy chuckles while she grins playfully. "How's life been treatin' ya from da insides, good?" He asks her in attempts to strike up a conversation. "Oh yah know me, Remy, Ah've always been tha survivin' kinda gal. What about yah, sugah? Everyone keeps sayin' yah ran off tha radar for a few days? What's all tha mess about that?" She asks him and he can tell the worry in her voice that she tries so hard to hide but only fails. "Been busy." He only replies. "Doin' what?" She asks and then tries to turn around and sound friendly, "If yah don't mind me askin'." He studies her for a moment and then orders a drink of sweet tea, the liquid plays with his tongue just as the two past lovers play with each others minds, and leans upwards to talk to her. "Jus' about tha future. Where we goin' an' how we gettin' there, ya know?" Anna nods and believes she knows what he talks of. It had only been so recent that she had finished her recovery and put forth an effort to try and salvage whatever she could with the man she had once loved. "Well, with tha new roster Ah'm sure ya could do some good as an Avenger. Ya not as bad as yah wanna believe, swamp rat. Why don' ya come an' spend time with me there? Ya always used ta talk of wantin' ta repay past sins-" She speaks but watches his mouth move to speak and cuts herself off. She feels as if he is hurting but cannot tell well enough due to his usual facade. She wants to help him and only believes that she cannot. For Remy's sins lie deeper under the skin than he believes she could ever tell. Far deeper than the massacre or the freezing tundra. Every word she speaks in that accent plays through his ears again and his heart tries to beat because that was where the innocence had fleed to. Where his demons could do nothing but die every time she opened her mouth. He felt comfortable and safe...at one time. A time when everything was simple and all he had to do was lick the strawberry off her lips from the ice cream. A time when he could feel her quiver underneath him and the sheets. "An' what if I asked ya to come help me an' join de X-Men team once more, Rogue? I t'ink dare we would feel mutual, hein?" He questions her and hurts her just a little in spirit. After all it was there that she was even qualified for her place among the Avengers. The X-Men would always be her home but, "Remy... Ah do more if ah stay with tha Avengers. Ah don' mind helpin' out every now an' then but the world is much bigger than we could had imagined, cajun. Ah'd hope if anyone could understand that than it'd be ya." She speaks in only words and he knows this. The world was never bigger than he could have imagined it to be. It was a lot smaller when you took out the fillers and got to the point. He knew she could never admit that she simply loved being an Avenger more than being an X-Man. Her entire life she had been dreaming for anything else than to be a mutant, drowning in the memories of others, and finally she could do more. Gambit was right in his accusations and for once he could not let her slip by. All he wanted at that moment was for her to admit that she was happy and he could benefit from it. He could feel better because he could sleep again knowing she was where she wanted to be. Nevertheless Anna Marie was like catching wildfire and nothing was ever close to the surface for her. His eyes just begged for the truth and his war between being himself and being her lover raged on. "Gambit understand, chér. Gambit understand a lotta t'ings. Ya do good, yea. I do good fer da X-Men. Jus' like you tho', Gambit got no place in da Avengers. What he do dare? Be closer ta you so ya can watch mah every move? Make sure I'm still alive in da mornin'? Is t'at it, hein?" He questions her with the honest truths and she is hurt but she is desperate. She wants this conversation to go another way. She wants him to believe her but she runs out of words to say too quickly. She wants to tell him everything he wants to hear but she knows he would never have the same passions as she did. "I'm a t'ief, girl. Ya know what mah line o' work is. Mah sins are all rite, cause I got family in da X-Men an' so do you. Jus' tell me where ya t'ink we could go? Ya called me fur a reason an' here I come. Why?" He asks her and she looks at the table. "Ya happy, Remy?" She asks and then looks back up at him, "Are ya really happy leadin' tha X-Men?" He wears thin and he can tell in her own eyes that she is as exhausted as himself. Neither of them expected any of this and each one has enough blame for how they tore each other apart. She only stayed because it made him happy and now she could tell as plain as day that, that was not the case anymore. "I don' know what I am 'nymore, Anna. Dis has all changed how I am an' who it is I wanna be. I learned not t'make future plans anymore cause dare ain' no tellin' what'll happen wit' today." He admits to her and she tilts her head in agreement. "Bein' an X-Man an' a thief is what I kno'. We are betta left not t'gether at t'e moment." Her lip trembles to hear him say those words but in her mind she knows more than her heart, "Ah'll agree with yah there, swamp rat..." He reaches out his hand like a comforting friend, "Maybe we'll learn ta get past this, chér. I'll learn ta love you again. For now we'll jus' keep in touch, yea?" She looks at her hand and then back at Remy with those southern emerald eyes, "Sure thing, Rem." Remy leaves enough money on the table to pay for her food, drinks and a tip before excusing himself from the booth. It is written that love sometimes fights to beat on if the pulse beats true. Remy contemplates this and the words of his father. He thinks of the girl he is still fighting to make things right with. Yet, he is lost in question, of whether his choice will be right or wrong. Questioning if whether if the right choice is being spoken by the wrong voice. If his life is becoming nothing short of static noise.

hello friends here is a part 2 for my most recent one shot! i am really just about to babble a bunch of words onto my screen but i hope they are good words

_______

You were recovered, fully, and on your meds 24/7, no exceptions. (Your family [and you] didn’t want a repeat of what happened the last time you didn’t take them.) People thought of you differently, of course. That was to be expected when people find out that you had to go to an asylum for the criminally insane for attacking a boy with a lacrosse stick. You didn’t mind, you had kind, loyal friends who never thought anything but the best of you. Anyone else didn’t really matter. You were allowed back on the team eventually, and got right back into the game like nothing had ever changed.

There was one thing about that fiasco, though, that still haunted you. The screaming please of the ginger boy you had befriended during your stay. You didn’t tell any of your family or friends about him, for good reason. (They would be wary of you if you told them that you made a friend in an insane asylum. They would worry for your safety if you told them he threatened to find you.) You did your best to forget him, but sometimes his empty threat and screams, or memories of your short-lived friendship, still managed to make their way back to you. You wished it would stop.

But regardless, no one but you knew about these thoughts. You successfully got back on track in all of your classes. Being an honors student was demanding and tiring, but it was beneficial to your academic growth and college applications. You were a fast learner, to your advantage, and catching up on the material you missed only took a week or so. Life was back to normal sooner than you realized, and you were happy. Sometimes, you forgot for a moment about where you had been and who you had met. Study dates in cafes and running amuck (abiding every law, of course,) in the city allowed you to feel like it was all just a strange dream. But all dreams come to an end, and this one was about to.

The stories blaring on the news all had one thing in common- 6 prisoners in the asylum had managed to break out, and were not nowhere to be found. What scared you the most about this was that Jerome, the ginger boy, was amongst them. But you kept your cool as best you could- no one knew about your relationship with him, and you didn’t necessarily want anybody to know.

Of course, as soon as he was broken out of prison, the first thing he decided was that he was going to find you. After all, he couldn’t go back on his word (he was a man of honor, after all). He only had one condition for agreeing to do Galavan’s bidding- it was to have you. He wanted you back. What you thought of as a convenient friendship, he always thought of as something more. In his mind, the moment you allowed yourself to be comfortable with him, you became his. He was under the impression that this was an unspoken agreement- you, however, never came to see it that way.

The both of you were in for a rude awakening.

It came one day after you returned from practice after school. Your parents were out of town on a business trip, so the house was empty for him to break into and await your return. (Your dog- while you loved her dearly- was not, by any means, a guard dog. If she was given attention, she was perfectly placid.) When you got home, you found both Jerome and your dog sitting on the floor of your living room. You froze in shock and let your bags, both school and sports, fall to the floor with a thud. That was when he looked up at you and instantly broke out in a grin. “Well hello there,” he said, standing up and talking painstakingly slow steps towards you. “Long time, no see, huh?”

Your breath was shaky when you tilted you head to look at him. He was looming over you, had you backed up against a wall, and you were beyond intimidated. “Why… why are you here?” He let out a well-mannered scoff.

“Why do you think? I told you I’d come back for you, bird. I wouldn’t break a promise.” He took notice to your fearful expression. “What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”

“Please… Please leave me alone. You’re sick. You need help. Please get out of my house. I won’t tell anyone.”

(This was a lie, of course. You were calling the police as soon as possible.) He just laughed at this.

“What are you talking about, (y/n)? I’m not leaving here without you. You’re mine, we were made for each other.” You scrunched your brows in confusion. “All you have to do is free your mind… these people have it clouded. You think you’re sane, but really… you’re just trapped. I know you can’t see it just yet. But don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. “‘Show me’? Jerome, there’s nothing to show. I’m not a psychopathic anarchist like you. I don’t want to 'free my mind’. I’m perfectly happy being sane and healthy.”

He just shook his head. “Wow. They really did a number on you. Just about snuffed out your spark! But I’ll get it back to ya in no time, believe me.”

“Why do you care?” you blurted out suddenly. “Where is this all coming from- why won’t you just leave me be?”

He tilted his head at you, genuinely confused. “Well, because- because you were made for me! You’re mine. I need you."

"Well then you'd better stop needing me, Jerome, because I'm not yours. You can't just come in here and claim ownership over me, like I'm some... some thing! People don't belong to people, and I don't belong to you. Get out." You didn't know where the sudden courage to say this came from. Beneath your tough exterior, you were terrified that he would lash out and kill you any second. But you composed your posture regardless.

"Is that so?" he questioned, taking it concerningly lightly. "Well then. I can see when I'm not wanted. Take care, then. But you'll regret this sooner or later. You'll come to your senses and see that you're mine soon enough." Finally, he stepped back, far enough to let you take a deep breath and not bump into him. He began to walk away, when he quickly turned on his heel. "On second thought," he looked at you, "I can't just leave you like this."

You began to form the beginning of a question when he had you pinned to the wall, again, hands around your throat. You struggled against him, clawing at his arms and hands. (Damn it, you play lacrosse, why can't you fight back harder?) "Don't worry, I won't kill ya. Just make ya sleep for a few hours. Don't want ya callin' ol' Jimbo down at the GCPD, now, do we?" You slumped to the floor, black spots forming in your vision. "Sleep, princess. I'll be back soon enough." His threatening promise was the last thing you saw before you totally blacked out and fell into a deep slumber.

Hours later, when you finally awoke exactly where he had left you. You were a sobbing mess, and there were fresh bruises scattered along your throat. It registered in your mind that he now knew where you lived, attended school, and could kill you at a moment's notice. You rushed to the phone and dialled 911, hands shaking. When the operator picked up, you spilled everything that had just taken place, taking a few, short shaky breaths after talking a mile a minute. The police, as well as an ambulance, was on the scene in five minutes. You contacted your parents next, and they booked the earliest flight possible to get back to you.

You saw his shenanigans on the news throughout the rest of that week. An oil truck heist, attempted arson, and raiding and massacring the police station.

(What scared you most about that one was when he talked about you in his cheaply-recorded monologue to the police chief. He vaguely mentioned his anger at society for tainting the mind and heart of his 'pretty bird', followed by a rant about being cogs in a machine. It was unsettling.)

You didn't sleep well for weeks. One night, you woke up in a cold sweat, convinced that he was in your room. You fell back asleep soon after, but in the morning, Your window was open and there was a rose by your head.

(You went to your backyard and burned it. You held it up high, just incase he was hiding somewhere, watching.)

(He was. He brought back two more the next night.)

This game of retaliation continued for a few days more, until it stopped. He was stabbed in the throat on live television, after hours of terrorizing a charity gala. You were relieved, of course, but a small part of you was disappointed.

(You did really want him to get better. You wanted to be his friend, you really did, but not if he was a psychopathic criminal who didn't care about anyone but himself.)

(But he did care about someone other than himself.)

(It was you.) (Deep down, you knew it, too.)

________

YEET SKEET I WROTE IT

i'm so tired

i thought i would let u kno im getting a lot closer to one of my friends and its making me really happy. we will refer to him as cool boy.

dumb boy still walks through my life every now and then. i can't avoid that. he's dating one of my best friends. he said he wanted to still be friends but hasn't taken any initiative on that yet. am i disappointed because we used to be so close and now we don't talk anymore? yes. will it kill me? hell no

im still so tired.

another guy friend, we will call him ugly boy because he is an ugly boy, started dating another one of my good friends recently. they are cute as hell and i hope he makes her happy bc she is a great person and her last boyfriend was a jerk.

i, myself, still have no love life. im cool with that. i've managed this much of my life without a man and i don't necessarily need or want one at the moment. the boy previously known as cute boy is a bit of a bore anyways.

please gimme feedback on this fic ALSO thank you i need constant validation that u guys like what i do, since, u know, i do it for u, and i don't get paid for this

Sweet Dreams, My Dear (Part 29) Markiplier x Reader

       To say the least, you had bundles of fun with the lads. Mark introduced you to them, starting with Bob and then Wade, and showed you the basics of the game. The goals were fairly easy to understand; if you’re a prop, don’t get caught, if you’re a hunter, find and eliminate the props before the time runs out. In addition to the new boisterous boys, ol’ Jackaboy joined in as well! There was no shortage of laughter or swearing as they started to play, Mark tried to save face for your sake if only for a few before he cracked and began swearing himself. He tried to offer an apology, but you were too busy laughing from his most peculiar euphemisms and swears that you can’t say you expected. Glad that you found even his frustrated ramblings funny, he no longer tried to censor himself and allowed it all to roll off his tongue as usual.

    However, when Wade tried to bring up the bonercast, the rest of the three feigned offense due to the fact that there is a ‘lady’ in their presence. Mark then tried to teach you how to tease Wade properly, and while you objected, he assured it would be okay. Yet, when you made a playful comment in jest towards Mark a moment after, he acted as if you stabbed him a million times in his darling little heart. Wade, Bob, and Jack -on the other hand- couldn’t stop laughing for about five minutes.

    When Mark finally let you play, you stumbled a tad bit and were more frantic than you originally expected to be. In the first round, you were a prop and you found your heart beating as the adrenaline courses through your veins at the excitement of such a little activity. And you’d rather not admit how many times you yelped because you had gotten caught. Mark and the rest of the boys also never expected you to repeat a few of the words Mark yelled out in frustration, yet you did all the same. Nothing too bad, but a simple exclamation of ‘shit’ or ‘damn it’ every now and then. Mark more or less stood agape when it happened for the first time, you had merely rolled your eyes playfully at his action.

   An hour or so has passed since then and you now find yourself craving something salty, “Hey Mark?”

    “Yes?” He answers, half paying attention as his character roams the screen scanning the area for props.

    “Do you have any salty snacks I can make?”

    His eyes leave the screen for your own beautiful orbs as he ponders, “We’ve got popcorn?”

    “Popcorn…” You mumble to yourself and nod at the thought of the buttery, salty treat, “Will you eat some too, Mark?” While you’d love to think that you can eat a whole bag, you aren’t quite positive and knowing Mark will eat some too, is reassuring.

    “I don’t see why not,”

    “Great! I’ll be right back then!” You chime, giving him a light pat on his shoulder before leaving. Once you left; however, a cheeky snicker echoes out from the mic of an Irishman. Almost instantly when he hears his friend-across-the-pond’s snicker, Mark lets out a drawn out groan.

    “Do not start this-”                                                                                                                                                                                                                         “Told ya’ Mark’s got a girlyfriend!” Sean pipes in a matter-of-fact way.

    “I do not, she’s-”

    “Signe’s told me everything! They’re friends now by the way, but it sounds like the two of ya’ are real cozy!”

    “Gotta say, I’m impressed Mark. She seems like a good match-”

    “We’re not-”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 “She’s out of your league, Mark,” Wade teases playfully, his own laugh making an appearance along with the lingering Irishman’s laugh.

    “Guys, just listen okay?” Seeing as no one spoke up after this, the redhead continues, “We are not together, I wish we were, but we’re not.”

    Despite Mark not being able to see this action, Sean furrows his brows in confusion, “Why not?”

    Sighing, Mark runs a hand through his faux fire locks, “She has to leave soon, tomorrow or the next day actually. Her family apparently wants her to come back home to Maine. The distance… I’d be willing but, it doesn’t seem logical, you know?”

    A sullen air falls on the previously lively conversation, not exactly awkward, just… a disconsolate air, possibly? Mark feels his heavy heart weigh him down as he begins to realize the reality of the situation.

    “Can you get her to stay?” Bob’s kind voice inquires, the game truly being put to a stop even if it’ll only be for a bit longer.

    “I don’t know,” Mark admits, he’d love to try but, “I just, I don’t want to pressure her into staying either though.”

    “Doesn’t mean you can’t try,” Wade points out, “Either way, do what you think is best, Mark.”

    Mark bites his lip and nods, “I know… Let’s just talk about something- Wait, guys, I’ll be right back…” He takes a stand and makes his way downstairs into the kitchen where he discovers a, well, an interesting scene to say the least.

    The fire alarm has been instigated due to the smoke clouding the air. All the while, he sees you looking on in panic to the growing silver mass on the stove that’s not only making those oh-so familiar popping noises but a constant hiss erupting from the top as well.

    Your eyes dart to his, wide and frantic asking for help from the rather built man. He slowly walks towards you, confusion written in his expression despite the start of his low chuckling, “You need help?”

    “Please,” Your eyes looking lost as the pan on the stove continues to hiss.

    Mark reaches over into the living room, grabs a pillow, and swats the smoke away to get rid of the obnoxious alarm. “Everything alright?” Matt yells from his room, not exactly worried himself.

    “Yeah! Nothing to worry about,” Mark hollers back up as the beeping finally ceases, thankfully. He then moves the oddly intimidating popcorn pan onto an unused burner, which then put a stop to its noises too, “All good?”

    You sigh in relief and nod, “Yeah, thank you,” You pause as you shake your head, “I don’t know what happened, it was fine one minute and I look away for only a second because Chica passed by and how could I not pet her? But when I look back, it was this giant gray… thing! It hissed !” You exclaim, still not fully understand what went wrong. You’ve always been quite the creator, being bested by such a trivial invention is disheartening!

    Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, a giant grin spreads across his features, “Did you notice that we have microwave popcorn too?”

    In an automatic reaction of hearing such news, you deadpan, hand covering your now blushing face, “We do?”

    “We do,” He reinstates, amused at your realization, “You could’ve just grabbed a bag and put it in for like, two minutes, and it would’ve been over with already. To think someone who can make crepes and these amazing desserts can’t make popcorn, well, nice job, chickadee.”

    You playfully swat at him, “Oh shut up, Mark,” albeit, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a light laugh from the irony in that truth. You think for a second before poking him in the center of his chest, “Icecream?”

    “Since you can’t burn it, let’s do it!” He winks and leans over to grab out two bowls along with two spoons, “You good with cookie dough?”

    “Certainly!”

    “Alright, and I can get it set up, so go ahead and tell the guys we’re not dead, ‘kay?” His eyebrow quirks up and you nod.

    “Okay, thanks, Markimoo!” He simply hums in response as you jog up the stairs and into his room, happily waving to the camera and greeting the boys again, “Back! Sorry, there was a… complication.”

    “With popcorn?”

    “It’s complicated, but now we’re going to eat ice cream so it’s all good, how’s the game been going?” You ask wanting to forget your disgraceful mistake.

    “Great! Despite you n’ Mark bein’ gone, our team is winnin!” Sean informs, proudly.

    “That’s only cause Wade didn’t realize we started playing again and let Jack kill him twice before he realized,” Bob defends with a whine from a hurt Wade following after.

    “No one told me!”

    “Oh great, is Wade already making excuses?” Mark playfully groans as he re-enters the room, “Tsk tsk, c’mon Wade, be better than that. Be a better person! Be someone like me!” He chuckles softly as he hands you your bowl of the delectable frozen treat.

    “Either way, I think I’m cool with just watching now, I don’t want my icecream to melt. So, you boys have fun fighting amongst yourself!” You giggle shaking your head at their silly teasing between one another.

    “Just remember to have a nice time!” And as soon as the pun slips off of Wade’s tongue, a chorus of groans follow.

    “You just ruined her nice time, Wade!”

    ‘God damn it, Wade!”

    “Oh boy, I’m really going to get creamed in this upcoming round for that, huh?” Another chorus of groans follow, although you try your best not to laugh.

    “I’m not helping you anymore if you say another one,” Bob warns and begrudgingly, Wade agrees not to tell anymore puns. Or he at least tries to…

    He fails at this task.

    The game ended not too long ago, each one signing off and saying again it was nice to meet you, except for Jack who told you he’ll hopefully talk to you soon. You still aren’t tired though, Mark is, but you aren’t. Mark stretches as he walks towards his bed and then proceeding to jump on it with a content sigh once he lands. “Sleepy?” You ask as if to simply confirm your thoughts.

    “Very,” He answers, his eyes resting on the ceiling; lost in his own thoughts.

    “I’ll go ahead and leave you then, good-”

    “Wait,” He props himself up on his elbows a question lingering on his tongue just daring to be asked as he watched you freeze mid-way to his door. He has your full attention, he knows he does, but does he dare ask? The temptation is killing him and Mark knows it may be his last opportunity to even ask a question of this sort. God, he wants to ask.

     The moonlight reflecting in your gorgeous irises like gentle light reflecting off a pond; they manage to look right through him; right into him, straight to his soul. The blue light passing through his white curtains and laying against your skin, illuminating it in a stunning way he’s never seen before that makes him never want to let you go. Yet, you’ll be leaving soon and if he gets any closer, how will he handle you leaving for God knows how long? You’re like a forbidden fruit, a precious stone that’ll only crumble if touched, or a brilliant flame that will burn if someone gets too close; a temptation all the same that he isn’t willing to give up so easily although he knows he has to. It’s not his decision and he knows it isn’t his place to interfere. So, does he dare get even closer if it’ll only result in more pain when he no longer has you to hold? Can no longer be embraced with such love and warmth that he’s never felt before you came along? Can no longer see that breath-taking smile or silly laugh that makes his heart soar? Is it worth it?

    Mark doesn’t know. He really doesn’t, but what he does know is that he has you now. That in this moment, you have nowhere to go and nor does he, so after much thought, he allows the question to leave his lips, “(Y/n) can you stay with me tonight?” Quite juvenile, he knows. Yet, he only wants to hold you in a midnight embrace one more time. Maybe it will leave him hurting more, but maybe he’ll be content and be ready to let you go when tomorrow comes.

    The question takes you by surprise and with a blink of your eyes, you slowly start to nod and allow a soft, bittersweet smile to capture your expression, “I’d love to Mark. Let me change into my PJs and I’ll be right back, sound good?”

    “Sounds great,” A soft chuckle escapes him as you offer a small wave before leaving to go change. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips as he remembers your PJs; his old T-shirt and basketball shorts. A fact that will always make him smile no matter where you are.

Kpop Love at first sight tag

Tagged by @princessyeolie , hi thanks ✌🏽 Rules: List 5 or 10 of your favorite kpop boy/girl groups. Put your very first bias of each group and the name of the mv you first saw the member in. Woo boy lets see how well my memory does me, was away from kpop fandom for about 2 years (still listened to kpop but ya kno) ahem, in no particular order~ 1. BAP - Zelo, Warrior MV (Daehyun is my current bias, i fell for Zelo’s flip i’m weak. He’s a strong second bias currently tho) 2. f(x) - Amber, NU ABO (well duh, its Amber after all. but switched to Luna after watching some variety, fun fact Luna was the only girl i ever rp-ed in the good ol days) 3. EXO - Kyungsoo, What is love (“Girl, I can’t explain what I feel” that was all it took. I liked Kai in the teasers but D.O in the “prelude” mv. It switched between Kai, Luhan and Baekhyun for some time, Luhan phase was longest of those three but in the end, D.O on top. End of story, end of me) 4. Infinite - Sungjong, Nothing’s Over (so I totally watched them when they debuted with Come Back Again, but I literally paid them no mind i liked teen top better I DUNNO WHY WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME OMG, teen top still good tho just got more love for infinite, and Dongwoo all the way. Dongwoo is love, Dongwoo is life, brings peace to the world) 5. BTS - Jungkook, No More Dream (i had a thing for the maknaes at some point i swear, but now I dont even know who my bias is, is my boy Jimbo? Taehyung aka V which my tumblr mobile never lets me tag? who knows leave your votes below) 6. SHINee - Taemin, Replay (like i said above, maknaes. Onew came in strong tho i will never forget you my love, my original tumblr was a shinee/onew stan blog) 7. Orange Caramel - Nana, Lipstick (yes I like the sub group more sue me, still a fan of Nana shes the best. I miss them sigh) 8. Beast - Yoseob, Bad Girl (omg why do i feel old listing this, this isnt even that old not like dbsk omahgah- anyways. That bowl head really hit me in the kokoro, i ended up liking Kikwang for some time but in the end, ahh Yoseob my sweet price, your vocals are 👍🏽) 9. Teen Top - Niel, Clap (since i mentioned them before, totally fell for the lips. My bias ended up switching between L.Joe and Changjo tho aha) 10. Pentagon - ALL OF THEM, Gorilla (frickin, ok I’m new to them but how the heckle am I supposed to decide, this is my first new group since I returned from my kpop hiatus and I dont know how i picked biases in the past, i need help pls. now i’m begging on my, begging on my knees) Alrighty, those who suffered and read thru this thank, tagging now and you can decide whether you wanna do this or not o/ if you werent tagged pls feel free to do it anyways: @jeoncutie @jangdongoo @julieontheblock @xingmi-tales @thekinkyjinkiclub @pyro-owl

I didn't exactly mean it like that. I meant to jokingly implay that I'm "undead" -👑

OH weeeell fuck me then amirte XP

okay okay so it started off as a major snooze fest right?? suuuuuper boooring blah!

but theeeen v (my cousin and roomie) wanted to go and see his dad yea? good ol uncle t!

and our other roommate j is hilariously in love with uncle t - he just doesnt realize how bad he got it (lemme tell ya its whoooo) hes not totally dull to his feelings but damn v really made him think thonkin on that today

so j likes to flirt j likes to flirt alot he flirts with almost everyone he sees hes a flirty flirty bitch and hes fabulous for it and a proud mofo too but he lays it on thick with uncle t - dear sweet oblivious uncle t doesnt get the flirting one bit

now v puts up with flirty j hittin on his dad soooo much idunno what was off about today but v snaaaapped i kinda saw it comin its weird j didnt anywhhhoooo v snaggs j and drags him to the other room all 'i gotta talk to you a mome' and im all like well fuck i aint gonna be left outta this shit so i follow them yea?

and v ripps into j 'you have to stop hitting on my dad you dont know what hes been through and he doesnt need your fake flirting bullshit to give him some kinda fake hope' and j is standin there appalled and then a look crosses his face and he lightly lands his hand on v's shoulder and in the sincerest voice ive ever heard j speak in he said 'its not a game to me not with him' AND LIKE WOAH that shit is a biiig step for janjan!! it shut v up so quickly he had no idea what to say!! he just kinda walked back into the other room!!

thats about the sum of my day we got home and v was quiet for a lil then we started to flip through movies - we did actually watch all the way through the hunger games all the way through and even the second one too

its now 6am and i havent slept yet so its goin pretty good ya kno