#every single time i decide 'well i can't draw anything by forcing myself to do major projects. lets just draw what i want'

[clone-force-333]

Farewell, From The Boys Of CF333!

After much deliberation, Clone Force 333 has decided to end our missions.

There's a lot that could be said about why, but we've always tried to stand by a message of positivity so I'd like to keep that even now, and the bottom line falls in the same place regardless of our individual reasons: it isn't humble to our original purpose anymore.

And I’m gonna be so dramatic about it.

I don't regret a single moment of it even now. Nothing will take away the fun of planning an attack, of giggling as we make a silly plot, of forgetting the drop and having to reschedule 5 times over, of still messing it up anyway. Truly, it's a miracle the one thing we didn't mess up is we all hit anon every time!

Clone Force 333 was my love letter to the fandom, where I could find a way to give some love behind a mask when I didn't know how to do it as myself, because I believe this to be the most selfless form of kindness; to give without taking. There is no obligation to return it, just to have it. I find this a rare quality nowadays when people confuse kindness as a tool to farm kindness for themselves, and not just for kindness sake.

Remind yourself in giving, you cannot expect to take It will only make you bitter, and what's left will go to waste

We were inspired by none other than a certain someone who regularly sends drones of anon hate, it was pretty annoying to see so many people targeted by one person with a gang of friends who had no problem being bullies. A third of CF333 ourselves have been targeted by this person. But I figured, y'know what? If they can send hate en masse, why can't I send love? Coupled with the inspiration from our beloved Clone Anon- and Clone Force 333 just kinda happened.

What started as us just assigning numbers to send a love bomb ended in so much more. These numbers were given names, ranks, and personalities that brought them to life. They aren't just "Clone Force 333" to us, they're OCs that we make headcanons for, roleplay as, and draw/write. Most of all, they are one of the most unifying things shared among the little online circle I call an internet family.

It's unfortunate to have to say goodbye, I definitely had a lot of plans that will never see the light of day, however it's simply better to end things sometimes instead of forcing them to work.

Not only are we ending our attacks, but we have also decided to come public with some of our identities. We want to treat these clones like our other OCs and have them on our blogs, and it seems the best way to do this is to just out ourselves to avoid anything else happening.

One thing to be made clear about this is that it is not an invitation to reach out to us about CF333. This is so that we can just rip the bandaid off and go back to being us with the OCs we made and have become so deathly attached to. In fact, the only reason I will say as to "why" we called it off is that some of the public responses made us uncomfortable. So really, we'd prefer it if people didn't treat us as anything other than us. We were never anything but just one of you too, you know? That stands for the RP blogs as well, more than the character, there's a human behind that url, so maybe act like it.

So, thank you for it all, goodbye to you Please let me congratulate you, too Lastly let me say farewell to we I won't forget you, hope you think of me

So, a final farewell from me. Not just as CT-1363, Captain Angel: but also as Jack, your local fandom menace~

As always, Stay Golden 💛

Our members are listed below:

(Note: we have some members not listed, only the ones who joined for attacks and are current)

Angel: If you know, you know (that I'll bite)

Chovi: @techs-ass

Ghost: @staycalmandhugaclone

Everest: MIA

Curly: @errondaperson

Luca: @echos-girlfriend

Hutch: @techs-girlfriend

Sumi: MIA

#ct-1363

[gaoau]

Strike Back

Everyday, Properly warnings — none. word count — 975

prev.

It's their third and last year of high-school, still in the same class and still filling the same roles. The 100 of his class and the average of 90's. He remains turning in his assignments in time, while only last week she handed in a math test blank because she doesn't like drawing graphs.

They decide to share another cup of tea in a breezy afternoon. Where they usually divert their paths, Kita follows her left and to her house. Much like the first time, she forces him to wait at the table as she boils the water and soaks porcelain in flavor.

He had been surprised on his first visit, shortly after the spontaneous offer that leaped off his tongue. [Name] never cared to do anything adequately, taking all credit both when they failed or somehow succeeded. The weight of indifference vanished from her body as she carefully prepared two cups, hands gentle and fingers dancing with softness.

Tea had never tasted so powerful; his tongue could pick apart every single spice mixed in a package.

She settles across from him, white porcelain knocking twice on wood. The inevitable topic of the future pops up before his second sip. "What're yer plans after graduation?" he asks someone that doesn't know what they'll eat for dinner in a few hours.

[Name] sets her cup down. Elbow beside it, cheek in her palm. "Physics," she replies with a shrug—she always shrugs—as if it were a matter of fact. "What 'bout you?"

"I'll take over my family's rice farm."

"Sounds like somethin' Kita Shinsuke can pull off. I know I can't." She puffs her cheeks and blows out air.

"S'all 'bout doin' it properly. Everyday, properly."

"As admirable as that is, there're things I don't care enough 'bout ta do 'em properly."

"Things like what?"

"Geography, makin' friends, payin' attention during economy, bein' alive."

He brings his cup up only for it to freeze before it reaches his lips. His eyes find hers. "You don't care 'bout bein' alive?" He forgets the beverage in his hand.

"I ain't really good at it, so I stopped carin' 'bout doin' it properly. Same with the other things. Hats off to ya for bein' so diligent, though."

"Ya still properly brew tea an' properly ace yer math tests."

"Yeah, I ain't sayin' I don't care 'bout anything. I ain't good at livin', but I don't wanna die. So I play with numbers ta pass the time."

"What's livin' life properly for ya?"

"I dunno." Her shoulders lift longer than usual. "Not wastin' my time and actually doin' all the things I wanna do. Maybe, I dunno."

"I think repetition, perseverance, and diligence just feel good. That's a life properly lived."

"Don't think I could do that. I only see things through if they matter. I agree, diligence's good, but I can't go above seventy percent of myself."

"I'll take it ya'll see yer physics career through, then."

"Long as it matters to me."

"Ya should try puttin' in more than seventy."

"Ya keep doin' you, Kita—"

"You'll survive."

They finish the last bits of their teas. Mentalities unchangeable and thoughts standing on parallel; face to face, endlessly, never overlapping. They don't need to agree, they just have to talk.

Spring carried mist over the mountains, Summer followed close behind. Fall creeped by until Winter seeped in. Repetition just feels good. Spring comes back before anyone can blink to start the cycle again.

It's time to graduate and leave behind years worth of useless knowledge and unnecessary all-nighters. They hold diplomas between fingers that hooked around twin teacups. Words they shared still taste fresh on their tongues, like the first bag full of spice she ever soaked in steaming water.

Mr. No Gaps Kita Shinsuke graduated at the top of his class; Ms. Well Whatever [Surname] [Name] shrugged her way out of high-school. He did things properly and she survived.

The crows cry out their song to the sinking sun, sky a flaming red hue. An unsightly envy simmers in [Name]'s chest as she walks next to Kita for the umpteenth and last time in her life. Wasted high-school years replay in her mind and his words relentless beat down upon her.

He makes her want to live a proper life.

They cross the school gates. She finds his eyes reflecting a bright future. A lazy smile crawls onto her lips.

Orange fades into a palette of cool pastel colors. "S'most likely we won't meet again. I'll probably forget 'bout ya."

"Seems like ya still prefer bein' alone."

"S'always better to be alone than in bad company."

"Ya sayin' I'm bad company?"

"D'ya see me tryna leave this conversation?"

There are carefree notes of laughter mixing with the flapping of feathers into the horizon. There's no space for silence as they stop to face each other.

"I wanna forget my high-school years," [Name] lets her criminal thoughts billow to the Spring clouds. She swings her diploma like a fallen tree branch. "Whatever ya set out to do, do it properly. Though you don't need me to tell ya that."

"I'd say the same to ya. Bye, [Surname]."

She throws a bored wave behind an uninterested shoulder. "Goodbye, Kita." Slipping off her tongue, is a farewell building up over three years.

As the night swallows her in blue, Kita is another friend not properly made, lost to the sunset in the distance. She holds her diploma in one hand and tightens her fingers around Kita's words. Truths too bitter to drink down, but too precious to let go of.

—あごす (agosu) • 2020

#Everyday Properly #Haikyuu #Kita Shinsuke #Kita Shinsuke x Reader #Kita x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

[dyst0p14-n]

I don't really know who I am yet.

Ever since I learnt to string together coherent sentences, I've always liked writing like these little introduction entries. Whether it be in a new notebook, online, or even in my stories, I love being able to talk about myself. I used to think I was egotistical, so I just kept these entries to myself, but I've grown to realise it's less of a "I love myself to bits" thing, and more of a "catching up with myself every once in a while" thing. I think it's important to check in on yourself every once in a while. You know, to keep yourself from totally losing your mind and ending up in a psych ward. I mean, I'll end up in a psych ward regardless. What I'm trying to get at is hi, welcome to my little online diary. Fair word of warning, I have a lot of issues and I've seen literal porn on this website, so I'm not exactly worried about my posts being taken down if I talk about actively cvtting myself (I'll like censor my words just to be safe). Trigger warning for every single trigger under the sun: svicide, self h4rm, eating "this order", mommy and daddy issues, substance abuse, just to name a fun few. Obviously, my whole life doesn't revolve around that stuff (it absolutely does, I'm just gaslighting myself), so it's not like all my entries will be suicide letter after suicide letter.. or something. I might post it in the future though, so look forward to that!

ANYWAY, hi. I'm Amelia (people also call me Jemma if they're feeling funky), I'm 16 as of the 31st of March, and I'll be treating this as my diary. Basically decided on making this on a whim, so I have no clue whether I'll be writing here every day, or just once in a blue moon, time will tell. Honestly, I made this account to commemorate me surviving this long. I never imagied I'd make it to 16, and yet here we are. I didn't plan on making it this far, and I really don't have any plans on what to do with myself. I'm kinda at a loss. Before, it's just been a countdown to the day my candle goes out. Now, I wake up confused. What am I doing here? What is there for me? Is there anything for me out there? Everyday is a question. A question to which the answer is unclear, but I can make an educated guess that it's either drugs, money or death. Maybe all of the above.

I guess theres a few things I like to do. I'll get into detail in a later entry if I feel like it. It's getting pretty late.

I draw sometimes. I used to only do digital art, but I lost my apple pencil and have been too embarrased to tell my mam, so i just switched to permenant pencil drawings. I actually prefer it. I used to hate it because I was really bad at anatomy and using a digital drawing program let me rearrange the limbs as I so pleased. I can't do that on paper, it forces me to practice and get better. And I'd like to think that I have. I understand muscle structure a lot better. Perspective, and all that jazz. I also bought a watercolour set recently, so I've been messing around with that. It's pretty fun!

I also write stories. A lot of them. I'm actually in the process of writing the pilot episode for one of my projects; It's called "All-in". Its about this snobby rich girl who is running an illegal underground gambling ring who meets this depressed traumatised orphan boy who's part of a gang that is trying to take down the mafia and is constantly on someone’s kill list, he accidentally drags her into his business after his brother is kidnapped and the mafia thinks shes affiliated with him and she is now on the kill list as well. He is under the impression that she doesn’t want anything to do with any of this, not knowing she has a criminal record of her own. It's a whole thing, I won't bore myself by explaining all the small details. This is my diary! It exists for my leisure and to let out everything on my mind! I'll leave the work to work hours.

Another major hobby of mine is volleyball. Officially, I'm a setter. In reality, I'm a bench warmer. I haven't been playing very long. Maybe a year and a half. So naturally, I suck at it. I still have a lot of fun with it. Maybe i shoud become a professional volleyball player if I don't end up killing myself?

What else is there about me.... I listen to a lot of rock and metal. All sorts of varients of the two. Really, I like all genres of music, these are just my personal favourites. I also listen to a ton of vocaloid. It's been a staple of my personality since 2016. If youve been here since before i repurposed this account (which, I doubt you did), then you'd have seen my entire page was FILLED with Hatsune Miku stuff. Big fan.

I watch a lot of anime. My favourites are FMA, Soul Eater and Assassination Classroom. I also have a manga collection that is worth over 450 quid. Some might say thats a waste, since I'm poor and could use that money to feed myself for a month, but food is temporary, wasted female lead potentional is forever.

I'm gonna gp to sleep now. I'll add on whatever I can think of when I'm back from school tomorrow.

...

School sucks dick.

-amelia

[introvertedwolf]

bastard

(this guy is owned by @theriverpersonshadow)

#lock #tanglefell #undertale au #papyrus #somehow not a reblog #it's 3 am and i haven't slept and this it first thing i've drawn in days #is it art block? stress? both? who knowssssssss #so that's a problem for y'all now #every single time i decide 'well i can't draw anything by forcing myself to do major projects. lets just draw what i want' #damn near every time it's this bastard #he lives in my mind rent free

[obscureoperations]

ok feel free to delete this if you aren't into blood play cuz I know its not everyone's cup of tea

but.

I was thinking about a scenario where Martin agrees to be tormented when he's gotten really hungry. tie him up, make sure he knows the rules, establish a safe word. basically the scenario involves teasing Martin with your own blood and making it so he can't get to it to drink, but also pushing and teasing him about the fact you're bleeding and he's hungry and all he really has to do is safe word and he can drink. but he's a good boy, so he won't. and you know he won't.

(of course this involves a lot of trust and intermittent check ins to make sure he is truly okay in the moment which brings out the intimacy here (yes. intimate blood play. it makes sense leave me alone))

telling him to keep his eyes on the cut in your finger as it drips blood down onto his chest. not letting him look away. reminding him how hungry he must be and telling him to not struggle and keep his eyes on you.

by the end of the scene hes crying and in a real deep headspace. ignoring his most important need. for you. all because you told him to.

(of course afterwards he gets taken care of all sweet n stuff :) )

I'm actually not opposed.. not at all! I love the detail.. and I really tried to do this justice to no avail. This is one of the premises that I can see myself coming back to. Trying to turn it from word vomit into an actual story!

Stray tears continue to trickle past his hairline, seeping into the thousand thread count pillow..Cheeks burning with shame.. Martin’s eyes remain fixated on the ceiling--the thin jagged crack that starts at the fan all the way to the far corner of your room. He felt heavy, nearly saturated with guilt the moment you began to ‘take care of him’. Your fingers gripped his thighs with an almost otherworldly force, as you pin his slight hips to the bed. Questions of who he belonged to.. What was his name… why exactly should he be apologizing.

Martin was still at you kept him tethered to the edge of delirium. Lips moving over his flesh in a way that reminded him that you still cared-- Teeth gently nipping at his neck tongue laving over his racing pulse. His mouth was dry, the gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach was almost unbearable. The coppery scent was unmistakable, it curled at his nostrils causing him to swoon. The smell was unique, almost spicy-- everything about it was decidedly you. He would catch glimpses of the heady aroma when you would accidentally nick yourself preparing dinner. Or that one time when you fell off your bike skinning your knee.

His hands were numb, wrists tied to the bedposts, he had no idea where you managed to acquire the rope. His legs were extended towards the edge of the bed, slightly parted ankles tethered to the bed. Luckily for him, you decided to spare him some dignity. He was completely bare save for his shorts. Mouth sized bruises adorn his collar, chest and ribs-- all ranging in various colors. Pools of blood began to dry and stick to his skin, he could feel them tighten under the breeze. He was shivering, eyes fixated on the laceration on your arm--he prayed you didn't press in too deep.

~

He could still taste the tears streaming down your cheeks the moment he crawled in through the window. You were shaking, struggling to contain your sobs.The look on your face practically broke his heart.

“Martin… where were you?”

He momentarily seemed to lose the ability to speak. His eyes remained glued to your angelic face. The tears flowed freely. He never knew you to display any emotion beyond very mild annoyance-- You were shivering, arms wrapped around yourself protectively-- this was something completely new. He messed up.

“Y/n… I’m so sorry..”

~

“Why not me?”

You had asked him that question every single time. You knew all about his sickness, his actual need for blood. You knew that he couldn’t go to a hospital...he would be locked up forever-- Then why not you?

He claimed that you were far too precious to him. If he ever hurt you “He would die”

This was far worse, he had been doing so well-- You were on the verge of full blown panic whenever you could hear police sirens in the distance.

Martin knew what he was doing, he was quick on his feet, there was very little reason you should fear for his safety. But still, what if he messed up and made a mistake. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to him.

So he agreed. If anything to regain your trust-- and hopefully make amends. The safe word was “silk” ; he could use it at any time when things became too much. He wasn’t allowed to drink from you until you explicitly tell him it’s okay.

He had no idea what he was getting into, he nearly used the word the moment you picked up the blade.You winced ever so slightly as the steel pierced your skin--the ropes were the only thing stopping him from wrapping you in his arms. You didn’t have to hurt yourself for him. The blood began to pool down your arm, he wanted to scream. You seem almost mesmerized for a moment yourself as the crimson rivulets begin to drip down your wrist. His eyes remain transfixed, his face grows hot--the stabbing pain in his stomach causing him to wince. “Yn..p-please be careful” he whispers. Was that a warning or a request?

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you poise your arm over his chest-- squeezing gently as a few droplets land against his skin. He hisses sharply, eyes immediately screw shut-- white hot electricity surged up his spine. Every nerve ending set on edge as the coppery scent hits his nostrils

~

You take your time, painting red washed lines across his chest as his fingers helplessly grasp at the bed posts. He was panting, clearly tenting in his shorts, but he still refused to look at you.

“Martin, open your eyes..”

He shakes his head, images swirling through his mind. He saw mobs chasing him through the city. Torches blazing as he scrambles down cobblestone stairs. He saw the woman on the train laying practically lifeless. He saw the image of you from one of his dreams.

~

The two of you had very nearly broken up--but that was towards the beginning of your relationship. You knew that Martin had nightmares--this was when you first began to discover the depth of his sickness. It started with him talking in his sleep, waking up in tears unaware of his surroundings. It only got worse till one day you woke up in the middle of the night to find him locked in the bathroom sobbing uncontrollably. You begged and pleaded for over an hour for him to just open the door. He refused, he was so scared that he might have hurt you. As it turns out he dreamed that he had actually killed you. It all started from accidentally tasting a stray droplet of your blood. In fact, it was a few days after he had patched up your thumb after your run in with the kitchen knife.

Better than he ever imagined, the taste alone sparked something inside of him. He was so worried that one day he might not be able to contain himself. He was so scared that he might hurt you. You noticed his somber demeanor, but the pieces didn’t click until you found him in the midst of a literal breakdown. You didn’t care, you wanted him with you for the rest of your life. You were certain you could show him how to be good.

~

“Martin.. It’s okay… please look at me darling”

After a moment, he opens his eyes. Damp lashes cling to porcelain cheeks-- you only wanted to hold him. His gaze gradually moves from your face to the tips of your bloodied fingers, still glistening in the light. His stomach turns, threatening to collapse in on itself as he resumes tugging at the restraints.

“Y/n.. p-please.. We--ah.. We shouldn’t do this…”

Do what… sweetheart?” You coo, painting a crimson line just beneath his lips. In that moment you could have sworn his eyes shone brighter, almost amber under the lamplight. The force of his thrashing causes the bed posts to creak.. Groaning heavily beneath the pressure.

No no no… this was not a good idea everything about you smelled so warm and inviting.

He tries his best to school his face into a pleading expression, tongue darting over cracked lips.

“You should-- just clean up, and untie me.. I feel so much better now. “

“Untie you?” you snort as you trace your fingers over his lips, as he fruitlessly attempts to tilt his head. You can feel him tense as a strange sort of shiver rolls through him.

“And then what are you going to do…”

Tears begin to freely flow down his cheeks as he shakes his head. “N-nothing.. I swear..”

“I know this Martin.. You’re not going to hurt me.. You never would.”

His chest heaves, you could have sworn you feel some of the tension leave his body.

“No.. never!”

“Are you hungry darling?”

“Y-yess” There was something about the raw unfiltered need in his voice that caused something inside to ignite. You were familiar with it sure-- it wasn’t rare that you had him nearly slipping off the bed.

But this was different.

You only wanted to cure him of his nightmares, but in that moment you feared you were making everything worse. You just wanted to show Martin that you trusted him completely. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you even if he tried.

With a shaky hand, he draws your fingers to his lips, keeping the blood stained digits poised directly over his mouth. His breath came out in heated puffs, reminding you of this old rottweiler that used to be chained up in your neighbor’s yard.

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you weave your fingers through his hair--noting as he leans into your hand. Breath ghosting along your palm--the tip of his nose brushing over the hardened bits of blood. You can feel him inhale deeply, as another shiver shoots through his slight frame. His teeth digs into his bottom lip as he relishes in the brief bits of attention. You continue to whisper to him words of affirmation. Thanking him for behaving so sweetly.

There was always one small vein on his forehead that always seemed more pronounced whenever he was in pain. Martin had migraines, so you saw it alot. He refused to take medicine, in fear that it might “make him loopy” His cheeks were flushed, brows furrowed in agony-- you couldn’t help the sudden pang of guilt. You already knew that Martin would never hurt you… why on earth did you think this was a good idea?

In a haste you reach for the razor, digging it into the palm of your hand. You begin to squeeze at your wrist, urging the blood to flow. You lean in, pressing a kiss against his temple as drops of blood coats your fingertips. You press one of your stained fingers to his mouth

“Martin… drink..”

He shook his head almost violently, pressing his cheek against the pillow. The motion left a bloody streak across his face. He could feel the droplets hardening by the second, his teeth immediately sink into his bottom lip. You were perched atop of him, knees resting against each side of his hips-- you sink down just a bit further. He lets out an audible gasp as your hips rock against his clothed erection-- droplets of blood pool into the dips of his collarbone.

He wanted to die… he truly wanted to die. There was no way that this could possibly be okay. Why would you want him to drink from you? You were so much more than one of his victims, you were his entire life. He valued your livelihood so much more than his own.

He failed to realise he was staring off into space, until your fingertips began to ghost along his jawline

“Sweetheart, are you okay?

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to stop?” you sink back further onto your knees. The sudden bout of friction causes him to shiver.

“Plea- No.. y/n. Don’t stop..”

After a moment, he slowly reaches for your hand, you press your palm directly against his lips. You can still feel the rumbles emanating from his ribs, arms tugging fruitlessly at the restraints. Stray droplets of blood adorn his chest, the crimson stream begins to drip past his cheeks. He was panting, even as you press your fingers through the crack of his lips. Breath seemed to still within his chest.

Tears continued to spill down his cheeks, seeping down into his hairline. Had you actually “broken” your boyfriend? What was wrong? Surely he wasn’t this repulsed by your blood alone.

“Martin.. I’m so sorry..” You whisper suddenly, his eyes remain fixed upon the ceiling, the crimson rivulets drip past his firmly closed lips.

You continue to weave your fingers through his hair, as his lips slowly part beneath your hand.

Tugging as you whisper against his ear. “ Darling.. Please drink..”

#martin 1977 #martin 1978 #martin mathias #martin/you #martin/reader #bloodtw #blood play #self harm #consentual self harm

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

✨ TAGLIST OF MY LOVELIES (OPEN) ✨

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

[bearpillowmonster]

Horizon Zero Dawn Review

The game that critics have been raving about for years and I just haven't played. I heard a lot of people say "this needs a movie" but they say that about any game that dares to be a little bit cinematic because I personally disagree.

That first part is rough, the story seems so in your face, predictable and bland but I think the problem is that it didn't know how to put in its exposition. I think it naturally builds up as it goes on, getting bigger and broader, it's just those first experiences that can be a slog because you're pretty much learning what style you're going to play in.

I got more or less everything I expected, crafting, a skill tree, various weapons. What I didn't expect though are dialogue options. You can choose normally up to four paths, an intelligent one, a compassionate one, and a straightforward one. You don't have to worry about the stress of trying to reach a specific ending because there's really only one, the only thing that affects it is the amount of people that are in it. So does that make the choices irrelevant? Yes and no because there are different dialogue options and like I said, which means that you can get certain characters to like you more given the option you choose but not in the same way that relationship points work and I definitely felt the draw to do that whenever I came across my first side-quest.

Side-quests are interesting, I love tracking things in games, though it's rare that you actually get the chance to do it and here you have a good amount of opportunities. Is that all though? Far from it. I actually found myself searching for side-quests because the first two were so satisfying. It really only began to show its hand a bit more after those quests. As I mentioned, there are a lot more RPG elements than I first imagined but it starts to send you on scavenger hunts, especially that Dreamwillow one, that one I actually laughed out loud at every time I was turned away. It also starts to gatekeep to where it recommends that you be a certain level which is...odd? I mean at face value it looks like you could rock basically any combat situation that isn't context sensitive. Leveling up gives you abilities but they're more like Deus Ex on that front, where it's just for preference and upgrading, not necessarily strength. The only thing you improve on offense wise basically boils down to having the right materials or units to buy weapons then a matter of finding modifications. Other than that, leveling up seems to just increase your health. It really just depends on the quest too because I'll play one above my level and be fine then play another that's actually under my level and feel stuck.

Now I only played it on normal mode so something like "Ultra Hard" is bound to be more demanding but as far as actual side quest content, I feel like they have potential but just need tweaked, give me more stuff for major characters that affects their standing with me. Rather than having each quest be contained in its own story, have it affect you later in the game, let your actions be shown, give it rewards and consequences. There are some really great side-quests but there are also some crappy ones, it doesn't pass that threshold that most RPGs fall under or anything. However, I did find myself doing side-quests at my own free will and the ones that I didn't like or couldn't do at the time, I just skipped and focused on something else, I felt a lot more freedom with this game, like I didn't feel forced to grind or do a certain number of side-quests or really do anything. It encourages you to explore and play the way you want to play and I respect the heck out of that. Maybe it's different for other players though.

Perhaps my favorite actual side thing was the Cauldrons for those who actually played this, you'll know why. For those who didn't, just know that it's cool and let it be a surprise for when you go to one. You might expect these big set-pieces and bosses like Uncharted or GoW, but it's not really like that. I genuinely think that this is more video-gamey than it lets on which certainly takes up its runtime. One addition to side-quests that I would like to see is one where you don't know it's happening. For example, in this game, you'll come across random hunters who are attacking or being attacked by machines but rather than just going on about your day and them going on about their's, I want to fight off the machine and the person say "You saved my life, my name's Jara, I live in the town nearby and want to repay you." so you go there and there's trouble so it starts up a side-quest. Now don't get me wrong, there are PLENTY of instances of people getting attacked actually being a mission but most of the time someone in town will just tell you "I haven't seen this person in a while, can you go check on them for me?" It's the art of subtlety and also just doing a good deed and getting rewarded for it. It's a conscious choice and split decision rather than just another checkmark on your list to complete.

Now I won't bother listing the characters and rating them but there's a certain aspect that has me really enthused So, Aloy is an outcast and a lot of these side missions and scenarios reflect her, you'll see the way she can relate with other characters, making it almost poetic in a subliminal kind of way. Then they add this tribal and futuristic setting to it where Aloy acts as the medium, there are parts of the game where she questions the tribe because they cut themselves off from technology and just don't know any better and we as a viewer know that but having the main character view things in 'our' lens is pretty genius. To top that off, they give her enough personality to be her own character while giving us enough power to influence her so that we ourselves can REFLECT WITH HER. It's not her character that I'm impressed with, it's the layout of the story.

So, how is the main story? It's kind of like the Flood scenario in Halo if I'm being honest. I'm not going to spoil anything but it's passable, like I said, it's not like an Uncharted and it's not like a movie. The visuals just look good at times (I took all the pictures in this review myself and so much more!). I'd call it a futuristic/tribal mix between Shadow of the Tomb Raider and Skyrim but I see elements of a lot of things. (Also since it's post apoctalypic, you find items that we see in modern day, like how they call keys, "chimes"! They think they're windchimes because there are no more cars! I love that!)

It actually does a pretty good job at being an open world considering that there are tons of things to do on your routes as well as collect but it's not so much so that it seems unfeasible, as I said, I found myself doing a good chunk of the side stuff just because it was fun to do and I'm not even close to a completionist for any game. If you mess up, healing plants will still be there. As long as you save, enemy parts will still be there. A place can be cleared out and conquered so that enemies don't come back. The actual towns are peaceful so you can't get mangled by any bots outside of scripted instances.

The graphics are pretty good but I can see some error here and there, nothing necessarily game breaking but the animations and AI are definitely janky at times. It's pretty obvious from the get-go but I'll do my best to specify and give constructive criticism on what I found wrong with certain aspects of the game. Rost is slow, like slower than walking speed but that's not to speak for all NPCs, some run, some you don't need to follow, it was really just him. I've had NPCs who fight but miss every single time on simple enemies (that might not be a bug, that might just be a funny bit that someone decided to add in). Sabretooths have jumped through walls (granted the walls were kinda broken but I'm not sure if those big boys can fit when they can barely find the entrance) I found myself jumping to a ledge or on a rope but not land it and just drop (it really boils down to loosening the hit box for that). Which to add on to that, I would like more places to climb and jump to in general (other than stupid mountains). I felt like there wasn't really enough that I could climb and the places that I could, could've been a bit more obvious that I could, maybe even make it viewable with your focus if you don't want it to be visually outstanding. There's a day and night cycle and while I like that, I found some of the contrast to be annoying because I could be staring a ladder right in the face and not even know it sometimes because it would be so dark. I'm not going to complain too much about it because I didn't turn my brightness up, I just left it at default and I would assume the PS5 version fixes some of those little things.

Now, this one is kind of a gray area: Hiking up mountains. Skyrim, Fallout, and Death Stranding went too far and gave little to no barriers. They had you looking for sweet spots that weren't there in order to cheese your way through an area either on or off a beaten path. But I would compare this to something like GTA where it's not as bad and does have its limits but might need tightened up some more because I can certainly get to places that lead to nowhere.

I've made headshots that don't make contact or damage while using precision. Part of that problem was that they could be high up in a tower (which have spikes sticking out) and I would hit ABOVE the logs, to make a headshot but since it was in that vicinity, it registered that as the spikes' hitbox so it wouldn't cause any damage and just alert the enemy (same if I was in the tower, looking down). Input lag where I hit up button on the D-Pad to regain health and I have to keep pressing it. If I had to guess, you have to meet the requirements of not taking damage, staying still, etc in order for it to actually work but it doesn't really have a reason to do that and it doesn't "tell" you that those are the requirements (as far as I know).

During the final boss, one of the enemies hit me into a rock wall, trapping me inside of it and the boss was already half health so I really didn't want to have to restart (I also didn't know how far back the checkpoint was) so I kept shooting stuff and eventually the boss destroyed the wall, allowing me to get out (timed section, by the way). There have been a few times where a tree or leaf or something is obstructing a cutscene and sometimes there will be a mech in the background screaming over the NPC talking, which I'm sure is due to the cutscenes being real-time which is still pretty impressive. Now are these errors all the time? No, not at all, I'm just pointing out that some times these things happened and that I felt it needed ironed out but I wouldn't call this half baked or an unfinished product or anything, it's nowhere near that level. I get that there are so many NPCs that it's hard to account for them all with facial animations but whenever they're talking, it seems pretty static and sometimes the lips don't line up. There's this one guy who says that he got lost in a sandstorm but he's standing in snow. Again, little nitpicks in an otherwise great game.

Now, I got this game for free as a Playstation promotion but that doesn't necessarily mean it'll be great, I played a little bit of that Ratchet & Clank reboot that was offered and I wasn't impressed, I quit after the first few worlds and was glad I didn't buy it at launch, (despite being a classic PS2 R&C fan) but we're not here to review that. I also played Abzu and loved it but it was short so it was definitely worth a play but maybe not 60$ (I actually think it's 20$ at this point though). With this game, it's the whole complete edition with DLC and everything, it has the length, so it really just boils down to "Would I have spent money on it otherwise?"

I think I would've if I knew more about it because I think it just got better and better after that first part of the game. It's marketed a bit differently than what I ended up getting but I found myself pouring hours into this game and loving it for one reason or another. I actually bought Shadow of the Colossus along with it (which is considered a cult classic) but I liked Horizon so much better, definitely worth its full price in my opinion. (So your promotion worked on me Sony, congrats) It has its problems but the potential is there and I feel like a sequel would probably iron out a lot of my troubles with it, so it's definitely a franchise worth investing into.

If you're interested in what I thought of the DLC alone (if you didn't get the Ultimate edition and are wondering if the extra content is worth it) I have a separate post that goes into that here.

#hzd #horizon zero dawn #review #game #4/5

[ellyzsx]

Story time

Suicidal thoughts run keen through my head. Driving through Krakow country side I saw a housing estate next to lovely tall trees - forest like - and thought what a lovely area to be able to play as children. Then I wondered which is the tallest tree could I hang myself from? No former context, no sadness, just my empty emotions triggering my brain to tell myself I should be dead. This is how my life is now.

I dream most days and nights of my life ending in disasters. Lachesism. I say I'm scared of when lorrys drive to close or fast past me. But I'm scared for the moments when they don't kill me. People point out that I drive recklessly because they are afraid of the end; I'm not afraid. Driving that way feels like freedom, my chance to escape, even with intent to cause self harm.

I don't want a grave stone, I don't want my ashes to be spread. I want my organs donated and the rest burnt. The ashes can be used in cooking because I am one spicy mother fucker! Joking!! Don't worry, I really just want them turned in to jewelry so I can still shine while I'm gone.

The ironic thing about my situation is that I want to die to end my suffocating thoughts but at the same time I still have little bits of me that knows some of my self worth. Contradictory as it may be, I probably laugh and smile everyday without a doubt but my thoughts of disaster never leave. I work and study hard but I'm still occasionally believe I am a failure in my mind; like I'm always worse than everyone in the room. I love people and helping out everyone, but I think everyone hates me and would be better off not having me around. It's complicated in my mind.

I feel on the road to recovery, I can admit that I'm not okay when I don't feel okay, I know the past history that has gotten me to how I am and I'm seeking help; 3rd increase dose of Anti-depressants, Cognative Behavioural Therapy and many other forms of help I can get. I have supportive friends and family, I'm very lucky that I have my dream career job and I get to go on amazing holidays like just travelling in Poland for the past weekend. I just don't know what it is that drives myself hatrid other than... well myself.

It's a viscious cycle that I can't get escape. I'm motivated and feeling fine one day, something goes wrong very easily that affects me for weeks and then I find a little bit of motivation to build myself back up and it happens again... and again... and again. I try and count my blessings but in order to do that I draw Venn diagrams to see the wrong, okay and right things in my life. It's an occasional thing and the amount of varience I get each time seems like a uncoordinating joke. But It gives me a sense of assurance when things are okay or right for a few weeks in a row.

I've been taught many coping mechanisms in my past 4 years of anxiety and depression. Even writing them down in this form feels weirdly like a strategy. I'm explaining my dark and ugly, following my long journey ahead, and explaining what works for me. Even if one person gains usefulness then this is all worth it.

As we are on the topic of helpfulness: I like being helpful - it gives me a purpose other than selfish motives. If I've been helpful to one person and not to the rest of the crowd I feel like a failure. I desire to be the famous hero who didn't do it for fame but for the sheer enjoyment of people liking them and for a purpose in other people's lives. So I try to help - I volunteer at my local explorer scout group, I help raise and organise charity events, I help and support friends and family. I even try to go the extra mile at work to raise awareness of women in engineering to help inspire and shape them little girls to be the change our industry needs. I also help educate teams on mental well-being and illnesses with in the work place to bring the awareness to here and now.

All positive were written there, but the underlying negative abuse I hurl at myself for everything I've not been enough help on or not doing at all hurts:

"I'm not helpful I'm just in the way, I'm pathetic, I'm a waste of space, they don't need me, they'd be better off without me, it's not working you're a failure, you are making it more worse, stop trying you aren't a good person for doing it."

Just as them thoughts constantly pass through my mind another extreme example from this evening I write on - I was on the train back from Birmingham walking through derby station, I had the thought that I could run away on any train go ahead and not look back and when I'm on the train I can take every single tablet I own and swallow it to die. Or i could come back another night with a home made bomb and make sure I'm in a carraige with no people in it. Why not die? Make it a dramatic escape. Even in the last few typed words I had the thought of jumping in front of a train which would take no effort and only affect 1 person's life than my own. Why do I have these thoughts? Am I a physco path planning my death at every opportunity?

Reading back the first few paragraphs I see how contradicting my thought patterns are. Living with Anxiety and Depression for me is being followed by a voice, it knowing all my insicurities and how to use them against me. It gets to a point where it's the loudest voice in a room, that I can't hear anything else. I don't remember a time when it wasn't like this, when the voices didn't make me feel empty and alone inside. What's even worse is a lot of the people I have opened my heart to have let me down, causing me to shut down further.

My past history is not brilliant, I never felt secure with my friends, I was harassed in college and I've always struggled to maintain my apperance. I've been through some tough break ups of friends and partners and my relationships with family has not always been stable. One thing I find hard is to love myself and know myself worth when the people around you don't like you and tell you that you aren't good enough. But through all this at the same time I've had some amazing times.

I do want to be happy. I just feel useless most days. I try not to complain but the grass isn't always greener and I feel in constant mud. It sounds pathetic but I feel like I'm in a rut. At the moment everything is fine with friends and work. It I don't feel important. I don't feel as if there is any worth to my day's. I get up, go to work, and then do nothing until I get home and sleep. I mean sure I go to netball, dance, yoga and I volunteer at a scout group but it doesn't feel like I'm doing any of it for myself and I'm slowly giving up on trying to please those around me.

But I guess I do it for the hope of my future, for the one, for the wedding, for the kids, for the house, for the lazy Sunday morning lie ins with the loved ones. It's all a fantasy.

Tonight at explorers we were doing first aid training and one scenario was that one of the boys had a cut on his wrist and he was bleeding out. Through those discussions I was thinking how I could slit my wrists and drown in the bath and no one would be able to put me in the recovery position. Another perfect idea but inconveniencing whomever finds me. It doesn't sicken me thinking of myself this way. Maybe it's how I'm meant to be.

My mum tells me I should think positive thoughts but it's like an urge to plan how I should die. Another disaster I saw was a crash this morning. I wish I was in the place of the other person.

Not paying attention to lectures is becoming a really bad habit. I still haven't started writing for my digital assignment which is due in 5 days! But I have decided I would like to end up working for the Naval group in Adelaide Australia! I finally have an aim!! It feels good and when I travel there next year I will get to see if it's what I desire!

Another person has just unfriended me on Snapchat? What the hell have I done wrong now? I'm getting sick of being made out to be the bad guy all of the time :/ And now Facebook!! All for shutting him down over complaining that people can't be themselves or get offended. I've had enough of this work force, it literally is a battle every week just to keep peace. I don't want to listen to your political opinion every 2 minutes I'm sorry but I'm here to work. The ignorance of some people.

Do you know what I'm going to work my arse off and start this assignment today and prepare the manufacturing question to prove to the haters that they only make me more powerful :) oh the contrast in these paragraphs is funny.

This afternoon I spoke to my mum on how all my emotional trauma started. She understands now and it feels like a relief to be honest. I've just been to netball and I feel like I've played really well!

I have decided on a main goal within my career! Naval group Adalaide Australia! (Not long term but a few years in Australia won't do me harm in my life time! Now I've explored the majority of Europe it's time to step in to the big leagues!) Naval group design submarines for the Australian Navy and with my career path I hope that I will have the opportunity to be able to try and apply for a job there some day in the next 15 years! Now I just need to maintain motivation.

What to do when motivation is running low in the future:

• Find the worth of what you are doing

• research and re-inspire!

• be powerful enough to overcome the ruts!

• believe in yourself - you are capable!

• remove any distractions

I just read a quote that said 'don't worry darling this is just a chapter, not your whole story' and I thought well it's a fucking long one! I'm sat drinking mocha staring outside of a uni window in a corridor I look so depressed it's funny! I just needed to get away from the noise and the stress. I only want to talk to one person but he doesn't know that and it's starting to stress me out but it's my own fault for falling for him when he told me not to. On the plus side I definitely want a nice view in my house when i move to Aussie! I mean looking outside to wet britain it's really nice but sunny aus will be tonnes better!

I'm stressed, my brain hurts and I'm tired. I really want this assignment gone. I'm physically in pain from yoga and I'm exhausted :( moan moan moan moan I'm even pissing myself off. I could do with a power nap or somewhere comfortable to sit. I also miss my earphones :(

Just met a lovely man and had a chinwag it was distracting but it's nice to get to know people without it being depressing all the time!

I was in a one night stand with a 28 year old in a 7 year relationship. Put myself on tinder.

I'm tired of people they never fail to disappoint me

Netball is good though! Proper enjoyed chatting with everyone! Good stress relief and even though I haven't done much it took my mind off the crap earlier.

It's been a while

It's working

I feel ok

I'm no longer a mess

I can stop these thoughts

I counter act them

Not everyone hates me