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ofallthingsnasty · 3 days

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tw: yandere, kidnapping/basement spousery, depression, mentions of noncon, gn reader characters: Crocodile, Sanji, Doflamingo, Law word count: 1.3k

One thing I learned recently is that I'm definitely a social creature and would get horribly, horribly depressed as someone's basement wife, even a well entertained one. All the books, the crafts, the soft music in the world couldn't prevent me from sobbing into my pillows, couldn't get me to crawl out of bed and to paint a smile on my face. Oh, but how would your captor react? For some, it's definitely a necessary evil - Crocodile comes to mind here. Annoyed by your lethargy, by your random tears and your meek, taciturn responses, he finds himself frustrated at times. This state of mind really isn’t ideal - he wanted you docile, sure, but not lifeless. Yet it's also awfully convenient when you just let him push you around, let him caress and touch you - and not out of fear of him, simply because you don't care to struggle. He discovers that he can forgive a lot when you're especially shaken and cling to him, bury your head in his chest because he's the only human you'll ever know again and the world is so bleak around you and you just need him right now. Of course, it would be nicer if you didn't do it because he's the only warm-blooded creature that you interact with, but he'll take what he can get. (And with time, it weirdly grows on him: him turning into the center of your life, the way your eyes seem to light up the tiniest bit when he comes home to you, something he thought mildly annoying at first turning out to be awfully convenient.)

To others, it's devastating. Sanji lives for your smiles, your warmth, the way your eyes crinkle and you jut your head forward when you fully, genuinely laugh - total apathy is worse than antagonism to him. If you were to scream, shout, put your fingers around his neck and squeeze with the desperation of a cornered prey animal, he'd at least get a reaction, some signs of life out of you. But you don't even do that. You just sit and try to suppress tears while he holds your hand. Sometimes he just cries with you, letting himself fall into the same hole you're being pulled into. It makes him regret taking you so utterly, bitterly, makes him feel all those memories from when he was a child bubble up in his stomach until they force themselves out and he has to vomit to be rid of them. He’s just like his father, he thinks, and it makes him sick. He’s rotten down to the very core, cursed from birth and now he has gone and soiled you, too - he’ll end up sobbing into the crook of your neck more than once, full of genuine remorse. And all you’ll be able to do is absentmindedly pat his hair, thoughts spilling like an knocked over ink well. No, you slipping into a deeply depressive state is only going to worsen the hatred he has for himself, is going to poison him slowly and steadily until he’ll be in agony. Maybe it’s his just punishment.

Then there are the ones like Doflamingo who simply don’t care. You don’t crawl out of bed until noon? You just stare into space or bury yourself in books when you finally do? You’re just lifeless by his side, just blink, shrug your shoulders when spoken to, just exist? Whatever, he has always treated you like a doll from the start. He can even weather the elusive bouts of sobbing and crying (even if he hates it when they happen), because most of the time you’re just his poseable thing and he is nothing if not generous to allow you a tantrum here and there. He doesn't feel bad about you being a more of a hollowed out shell of a person than a fully-fledged human with a rich inner life and doesn't care that most of it is his fault - his fault that you fester and rot beneath the surface, his fault that all the opulent, vibrant clothing and the scorching hot days by the pool still leave you frosty and weirdly bloodless, like a cold-blooded creature in winter. Food is ash in your mouth and only sours your stomach but you still eat when he tells you to, touches feel foreign and loveless but you still let him fuck you if he so wishes. Why should he care what circles around in your head when he gets to do anything he wants to you? That you feel like life is no luster, only desperation? The truly bothersome parts are taken care of by his myriad of servants and the family. Messes left behind get cleaned up, baths are forced on you regularly, as are grooming sessions. If you don’t get dressed on your own either someone else will see to it or he will - and he’ll have his payment for his time, trust me. The solemn mood, the non-existent smiles… he doesn't care for that. You’re not here for your entertainment, you’re here for his. And you just accepting your fate and letting him do whatever it is he wants… That’s just perfect, isn’t it?

Of course, let’s not forget about the ones who secretly love it. Law is a prime example, especially with his medical background. He isn’t surprised that your mood sways - he expected as much when he restricted your every move, declared the outside world to be too unhealthy for you. Of course you’d slip into a depressive episode. And it’s not a flaw, it’s intentional. Because now - now, when you can’t peel yourself out of bed, when everything feels too much, when you can’t feed or move or dress or take care of yourself- he gets to swoop in. He gets to do it for you, gets to tell you that he’s here and that he’ll always catch you when you fall. That his assessment of your condition was accurate - that you always needed him, right from the start. Dependency is worth more than all the love in the world to him. It simply doesn’t matter if you’d rather slit his throat than to behave for him out of your own volition - as long as you can’t leave. Even if he genuinely loves you, he’s not deluded enough to cling to daydreams of him and you living a quiet, happy life full of reciprocated affection, that ship has long sailed - sailed ever since his childhood got irrevocably destroyed. No. Love is nice and good and makes him wash you gladly, makes him care for you with delicate hands and with a patient brow - but your sickness makes you stay, renders you unable to leave him. It’s the only currency he can trade in when it comes to you. He’s your savior and tormentor rolled into one person; but above all he is the only one who cares and will forever care. You could rot yourself into a pathetic, sweat-soaked, disgusting corner, could turn into nothing but a husk and he’d always, always nurse you out of the ditch he’s found you in, just at the right time. What he doesn’t tell you is that he could help you. At least artificially. Boost your moods with SSRIs until you bounce off the walls with nervousness and sweat thrice as much; make you giddy and shaky until you get used to the dose. Until the world seems worth living in once more, until at least some color returns to your drab eyes. He could get you the medication, even try some speech therapy, could help you like a good boyfriend should. But why? It makes no sense. Why help you only to get some fire back, maybe even for you to slip through his fingers? It’s easier to sit in twosome silence with tired eyes watching him, eyes that one day might be grateful for all the work he has put into them. Until then, it’s of utmost importance that they stay right where they are: in a cramped, dirty corner of a bed, dull and lifeless.

#i hope you can see where i'm going with law's part? he's such a little creeper... but also deeply traumatized... ugh #idk i hope this was coherrent it has been rotting away in my brain for 3 weeks now #yandere one piece #trafalgar law x reader #sanji x reader #crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #tw.yandere #/crocodile #/sanji #/doflamingo #/law #/one piece

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sweetcherryharry · 1 day

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Begin Again — 06

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to get her voice to work. "Harry," she managed to whisper, the word a mix of apprehension and a strange sense of relief.

Silence stretched across the line, broken only by the faint hum of his breathing. The tension that had simmered beneath the surface of their reunion was now a palpable force, thickening the air with unspoken words.

"Y/N," his voice finally came, hesitant yet laced with a surprising tenderness. "Are you alright?"

The question caught her off guard. Despite everything, his first concern was for her. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her – guilt, gratitude, and a lingering ache in her chest that spoke of the bond they'd once shared. "I… I will be," she finally managed, her voice trembling slightly.

"Have you…seen it?" His question hung unfinished, the unspoken words echoing in her mind – Have you seen what's happening online?

A bitter laugh threatened to escape her lips. "Just a little bit," she admitted, the understatement of the year. Natalie and Maia had given her the broad strokes. It was enough to know that her carefully crafted world was about to implode.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with sincerity, laced with an unspoken understanding of the maelstrom she was about to face.

Y/N closed her eyes, briefly overwhelmed. His apology, while genuine, did little to change the situation. "Don't be," she said softly, pushing down a bitter laugh. "It's ironic, isn't it? All those years of hiding, and now…" Her voice trailed off, unable to articulate the absurdity of it all.

"It's a mess," Harry finished for her, his voice heavy. He seemed to understand the unspoken weight of her words, the sting of a love they'd protected so fiercely, now suddenly exposed in the harshest possible light.

A wave of memories washed over Y/N – the secrecy, the stolen moments, the fear of discovery that hung over them like a constant shadow. And then, the pain of their breakup still lingered, a dull ache that this unexpected reunion had reawakened.

"We were so careful," she whispered, the words filled with a mix of regret and resignation.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his voice. "I know," he said gently. "Believe me, I know." There was a hint of self-recrimination in his tone, the weight of the past they shared settling between them.

The memory of his invitation to Harryween suddenly resurfaced, a flicker of warmth amidst the chaos. He had invited her back into his world, a tempting glimpse of what could be. But now… she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Harry," her voice was hesitant, "I don't think I can go to Harryween." The words were like a heavy weight settling on her chest.

Last night, after their bittersweet moment in the backstage bathroom, they had went out to the Love Band’s living room and conversed there happily for a while —by themselves and with other people—, and during those moments, he had invited her and her friends to the next show, which was Harryween.

She had agreed. The invitation was friendly, and she knew how amazing Harryween was. Besides, she knew her friends would love to go (Y/N too, even though she would keep it a secret).

But now… with all of this going on, she wasn’t so sure it was the best idea to attend. All eyes would be looking for the mystery girl in the crowd.

"I figured you might say that," he replied, his tone surprisingly understanding. "It's probably for the best."

Despite his words, a pang of disappointment shot through Y/N. Part of her had hoped… but reason won out. It was simply too risky.

"But Y/N," Harry continued, a hesitant note entering his voice, "What if... what if there was a way?"

She sat up straighter, a flicker of curiosity battling her apprehension. "A way? What do you mean?"

"Think about it…" he said, "it's Harryween! Everyone will be in costume. You could disguise yourself, Maia and Natalie too. It will be packed with people all dressed up." A pause hung in the air as tension and possibility crackled between them.

Y/N's mind raced. The idea was both absurd and strangely tempting. Could she pull it off? Could things get back to normal, even just a little bit, in the middle of all this crazy mess?

"I don't know, Harry," she said finally, her voice laced with apprehension and a touch of yearning. "It sounds crazy."

"Maybe," he shot back, a hint of playfulness returning. "But sometimes, crazy's just what we need."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. There was a time when they'd thrived on a little bit of crazy, pushing boundaries and creating their own secret world. But this… this was on a whole different level. Public scrutiny, paparazzi, and the potential fallout felt like a hurricane waiting to erupt.

"Even with a disguise," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "there's no guarantee they won't recognize me. The media… they're relentless."

"We can take precautions," Harry assured her, his voice firm yet laced with a newfound determination. He was determined, he wanted to see her again.

The memory of their shared past, the stolen moments before and after his shows and clandestine meetings, sent a shiver down her spine. A tiny part of her, a part she'd buried deep down, yearned for a taste of that carefree intimacy again.

"Just… think about it, Y/N," he continued, his voice softening. "No pressure. But if you do decide… I'll make sure everything is arranged. Secure seats, a top-notch disguise… the works."

The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of the decision before her. A part of her craved a sense of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with Harry outside the whirlwind of chaos. But the other part…the cautious, pragmatic part…knew the potential risks were immense.

"I… I'll let you know," she finally managed, her voice a mixture of apprehension and a strange sense of anticipation.

"Alright," Harry replied, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "And Y/N…" he hesitated for a moment, "stay off your phone for now. Don't look at social media. Things are going to get…intense. My PR team will be in contact with me soon, and we'll figure out our next move together, okay?."

After she agreed, the call ended.

Y/N sat with her friends, staring at the phone, her heart hammering in her chest.

Harryween. Disguises. Stolen moments. It all felt like a dangerous, thrilling game. And deep down, a part of her was already considering the unimaginable– defying expectations and stepping back into Harry's world, if only for one last night.

Natalie and Maia exchanged worried glances, sensing the inner turmoil their friend was facing. The silence in the room hung heavy, broken only by the soft buzzing of Y/N's phone, each new notification a potential explosion of chaos.

"Well?" Maia finally broke the silence, her voice edged with concern. "What did Harry say?"

Natalie reached out, gently squeezing Y/N's hand. "We heard some of it, but… what's the plan?"

Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. Should she tell them about Harry's crazy proposal? A part of her yearned to share the burden, while another feared their reaction.

"He…" she began hesitantly, then trailed off. How could she possibly explain the allure of stepping back into the madness, even for one night?

"He wants me to go to Harryween," she blurted out, unable to contain the secret any longer. “Want us to go to Harryween, tomorrow night.”

Natalie and Maia's eyes widened in surprise.

"Go? As in, be there?" Natalie asked, her voice incredulous. "Isn't that like…walking into the lion's den?"

Maia frowned. "But how? Won't everyone recognize you? It's the most exclusive concert of the whole tour!"

Y/N explained Harry's proposal in a hushed tone. "He says he can get us good seats… somewhere discreet. And disguises. He thinks with the right costume, no one would suspect a thing."

A flicker of excitement sparked in Natalie's eyes. "Honestly, that sounds kinda thrilling. Like a spy mission."

Maia, always the more practical one, shook her head. "It sounds like a recipe for disaster. Y/N, the press, Harry's fans… they'll be relentless. If they figure it out…"

Y/N knew her friend was right. It was a massive risk, a gamble with potentially devastating consequences. But as she thought of Harry, and the possibility of a single night of stolen normalcy, her heart beat a little faster.

She took a deep breath, trying to process their reactions. Natalie's thrill-seeking nature mirrored a small part of her own, while Maia's caution resonated with her rational side.

"I know, I know," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It sounds insane. But… there's this part of me," she paused, searching for the right words, "that yearns for it. Just one more night, one more concert. It also feels a bit bittersweet, since I attended the last Harryween…" Her voice trailed off, a pang of nostalgia twisting in her heart.

Natalie leaned in, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Y/N, we get it. This whole situation is crazy. But you have to do what feels right for you."

Maia nodded in agreement. "We're here for you, no matter what. But please, think about this carefully. There may be fallout you haven't even considered."

Y/N's gaze fell on her phone again, the thousands of silent notifications piling up like a countdown to chaos. "I need to think," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And… well, I'm waiting for Harry's team to propose some strategies. We'll have to see what they say."

The mention of last year's Harryween hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the life she'd left behind. It had been a magical night, filled with the thrill of Harry's performance and a shared secret only they knew.

Could she recapture that magic, even in the midst of this storm?

—

Time seemed to both crawl and race by as Y/N sat alone in her apartment. The warmth of the recent shower did little to combat the chill that had settled in her bones. Strategies and concerns echoed in her head, endless 'what-ifs' twisting her stomach into knots.

She'd ignored her social media all day, the constant stream of notifications a terrifying countdown she wasn't ready to face. Instead, she'd buried herself in meaningless tasks, tidying the apartment, anything to keep her hands busy and her mind from spiraling. Her phone buzzed incessantly, messages from worried acquaintances and distant friends piling up, demanding confirmation – was she the mystery girl? She couldn't even bring herself to read them.

Eventually, the isolation was unbearable. Seeking any distraction, she messaged Natalie and Maia, assuring them she was okay, or as okay as someone could be in this situation. The simple act of reaching out brought a sliver of normalcy back into her chaotic world.

A flicker of her phone screen broke the renewed silence. A text from Harry.

She couldn’t help but feel her heart racing seeing the new notification on her phone.

Hi sunflower xx

Can we meet? I just had the PR meeting, and I’d like to talk about the options with you, in person.

A surge of adrenaline washed away the exhaustion. She didn't hesitate.

Yeah, sure, my place?

Not even a second after, there was a reply from him.

It’d be perfect :)

Can you send the address? xx

Since they had met and started dating while she was studying abroad in London, and then they moved together back then, she never had a place of her own in Los Angeles when they were dating. So, naturally, he didn’t know where she lived anymore.

She quickly shared her address, and decided to brew tea while she waited for him to arrive.

Within thirty minutes, there was a knock at her door. Y/N took a deep, steadying breath before opening it, revealing Harry on the other side. He looked slightly disheveled, the usual polish of his superstar persona replaced by a hint of vulnerability that tugged at her heart.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, a soft smile playing on his lips that seemed imbued with genuine warmth and a touch of nervousness.

“Hey,” she replied, stepping to the side of the open door, “Please, come in.”

As he walked into the open space of the shared living room and kitchen, his green eyes scanned the place. “It’s a lovely place,” he remarked, his compliment genuine.

A strange sense of displacement washed over her as she watched him cross the threshold. This apartment –this space she'd meticulously chosen and decorated– represented a chapter of her life he had never been a part of. Seeing him here felt disorienting, like a dream overlapping with reality.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him, closing the door behind them. An echo of shared domesticity hung in the air, a reminder of a past they couldn't speak of. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, more out of habit than genuine hospitality.

Harry shook his head slightly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I'm alright, thanks."

A tense silence stretched between them as they both took a seat on the couch. The apartment, once her sanctuary after their break up, now felt charged with emotion. Everything felt too much – the weight of the online storm brewing outside, the secrets they carried, and now the disorienting intimacy of being alone together for the first time in almost a year.

"So," Harry began, running a hand through his hair – a nervous gesture she remembered all too well. "How are you?" His question was gentle, his eyes reflecting a genuine concern that cut through the awkwardness.

Y/N looked away, her gaze settling on a framed photo on the bookshelf – a memento from a solo trip, a testament to the life she'd built for herself after him. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Overwhelmed, I guess. Confused. This whole thing… it's surreal."

"I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry. For all of this." His apology hung in the air, heavy and sincere.

"It's okay," she forced a smile. "Don't worry about it. We always knew… there was a chance this could happen." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken words lingering between them. Fame had always been a looming shadow in their relationship, a constant threat to the fragile normalcy they'd tried to build.

"So," Harry began again, a hint of resignation in his voice, "about the PR meeting…"

And just like that, the fragile bubble of intimacy burst, and the focus shifted back to the harsh realities of their situation.

"It's not pretty," he admitted, a sigh escaping his lips. "They're suggesting… well, the classic options. Deny everything. Issue a statement about respecting privacy. Simply ignore everything and keep quiet. Or..." he hesitated, meeting her gaze, "they suggested we frame it as being long-term friends, and that we would hang out from time to time, explaining me being in your picture.”

The options swirled in Y/N's head. Complete denial felt false and cowardly. A generic statement about privacy reeked of celebrity evasion. Ignoring everything was simply not an option with the way social media was imploding. But the last suggestion, framing their history as a friendship… it wasn't a lie, not entirely. There were a few months when friendship was the cornerstone of their relationship, before love had blossomed.

"That's… not the worst idea," she admitted cautiously. It would mean bending the truth, selectively obscuring the past, but it felt less damaging than an outright denial.

Harry seemed to relax slightly, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "It's the least harmful way forward, I think. Buys us some time while giving people a plausible explanation. And..." he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his voice, "I wouldn't hate having you back in my life, even as just a friend."

His words echoed in the silence. Y/N felt a pang of longing, a flicker of the old connection reigniting. Being his friend –a safe, public version of what they once had– was a tempting proposition. And yet…

"Yeah," she replied, the word barely a whisper. A wave of doubt washed over her. Could she do this? Could she see him, interact with him, knowing the depth of their shared history, and pretend it was only friendship?

A memory resurfaced: the stolen moments, the shared laughter, the way his touch had once felt like coming home. Could she truly bury all that and relegate him to the role of a casual acquaintance from her past?

Harry seemed to pick up on her inner turmoil. "I know this is a lot," he said softly. "And we don't have to decide anything right now. But…" a hint of hope crept into his voice, "would you be open to the idea? Just… hanging out, as friends, and see how it feels?"

A sliver of guilt pricked her conscience. Saying 'friend' felt like a betrayal of their past, but it was also a lifeline in this storm. "Okay," she said, her voice stronger this time. "We could…try."

Unbeknownst to her, Harry felt a bittersweet relief wash over him. "Friends" – the word sliced through him, a constant reminder of the love he still harbored immensely for her. But he could see the hesitation in her eyes, the internal struggle. It was for the best –her best– he told himself firmly.

For her safety, for his career, this was the path they had to tread, even if it meant walking over shards of his own broken heart.

The memory of their breakup played on a loop in his mind. The ache hadn't dulled over time; it had merely transformed. It was the price of his ambition, his relentless climb to stardom, and the cruel reality that success had made their love impossible to sustain.

And yet, watching her swept into the spotlight, her name and face twisted in the cruel narratives of the online mob, ignited a fierce protectiveness within him.

He couldn't change the past, even if he wanted to with his whole being. She was his home, his whole life. She was the love of his life, and he had lost her almost a year ago.

If pretending friendship was the shield to protect her, he would wear the mask with unwavering conviction. It would hurt, every smile, every innocent touch, every conversation constrained by the invisible boundary they now had to uphold.

But it was a pain he could endure, a pain he would gladly choose if it meant offering her a semblance of safety in the eye of this relentless storm.

"Look," Harry interrupted her internal struggle, determination in his voice, "I have to make a quick call. My team... they need to get the word out. An exclusive, a carefully worded leak… something to back our ‘long-time friends’ story."

A touch of bitterness edged his voice, but Y/N understood. It was the game they had to play, the reality of his world she could never truly escape.

Harry retreated to the kitchen of her apartment, his voice a low murmur as he spoke to his team. Y/N sat alone in the living room, the weight of their decision pressing down on her. When he returned, his expression was unreadable, a mix of resignation and a strange hint of hope.

"All set," he said, a forced lightness in his voice. "The wheels are in motion. Tomorrow…well, tomorrow things will be different. Hopefully."

A quiet "thank you" slipped from Y/N's lips, laced with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. The weight of their decision settled on her like a heavy cloak.

Harry's gaze landed on the coffee table, where a beautiful, carefully crocheted bouquet of pink, white, and yellow flowers sat nestled atop fashion magazines. A flicker of recognition softened his eyes. "Hey," he said, his voice husky, "isn't that…"

Y/N's head snapped up, a wave of warmth and nostalgia washing over her. "The flowers? Yeah," she admitted, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips.

"From that little market in London?" A smile bloomed on Harry's face as the memory came rushing back. "We spent ages arguing about which colors you should get."

Y/N's smile widened. "I can't believe you remember! I thought for sure you'd force me to choose the blue and purple ones."

"I almost did," Harry chuckled, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to contradict the carefully constructed distance between them. "But pink and yellow were always your colors."

Laughter bubbled up from Y/N, genuine and unexpected.

The dam holding back memories seemed to crack, and a torrent of shared experiences flooded their minds. They reminisced about their adventures, a clumsy encounter at a local bookstore. They recounted the time they got lost on a hike in the south of France, ending up stranded with nothing but a granola bar, two green juices, and a breathtaking view.

Each shared story was a brushstroke, painting a vibrant picture of their past love. With every laugh, every playful jab, the line between friends and lovers felt increasingly blurred. The comfortable silence they'd strived for earlier seemed a distant memory, replaced by an easy flow of conversation that only years of shared history could create.

The familiarity of their interaction was both a balm and a poison. They'd fallen into an old comfortableness, one that both recognized, deep down, as a home they could no longer share.

The night went on, and the arrival of take-out momentarily broke the tension. The act of setting out plates and choosing something mindless to watch felt like a step back towards their agreed-upon boundaries.

Neither spoke of it, the desire to cling to this stolen moment of normalcy outweighing the need to address the elephant in the room. The movie became a background hum, the plotline irrelevant compared to the unspoken narrative playing out between them.

A comfortable silence settled over them as the movie progressed. Exhaustion from the relentless stress of the past day crept in, their eyelids growing heavy. Before they fully realized it, Harry's head dipped forward, finding a natural resting place on Y/N's shoulder. She stiffened for a fleeting moment before relaxing, a sigh escaping her lips.

Subconsciously, they shifted closer, years of shared habits overriding any pretense of detachment. As sleep stole over them, nestled together on the couch, it felt achingly, heartbreakingly like home.

The outside world, with its prying eyes and manufactured narratives, ceased to exist. For a few fleeting hours, they were just them, finding solace in a love they couldn't bear to name.

taglist:

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @hesdebility @lomlhstyles @cookielovesbook-akie @champagneneen @tbsloneely @b-reads-things @awatt31 @walkingfromlondon @snorksquid101 @imtooindecisiveforthisshit @hannah9921 @moonstoneandmoonlight @renatavieira @harrysluvv @daphnesutton @oknothanks26 @satellitelh

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harrystyles #harry imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles series #famous!harry

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abbu0414 · 2 days

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A Switch (2009!Ghost X reader)

Guy this is just a shit post to let you know I'm alive (not actually bc I'm in college and finals are literally in a week) I'm sorry for being so inactive. Also please give me suggestions in my requests so I can get back into writing!

Word Count: 484

♪Song: House Song by Searows♪

Women practically threw themselves at his feet. It was always the same way too. They would stumble up to him at the bar while he was silently celebrating with his team for their most recent successful mission, ask what he was doing tonight and if they could sneak a peek at the face behind the mask. Of course he would dismiss them and send them back off to their group of friends, returning to his team after doing so. He didn’t know why but it upset him. The first time it happened to him, he was surprised. Women wanted him? But he was so scary and brutting…to each their own I guess. But the more it happened, the more he realized the women wanted one thing. Him. Not like him as a whole person, but just a part of him. The part that didn’t have a soul, just the empty, hollow casing of it. No one asked his name, what he does for a living, why he wears the mask, not even what his favorite color was. Not that he’d even answer those questions, but no one ever tried. Which is why he would avoid the bars as much as possible. If he did go, he would stick to the walls and corners of the bar.

One day you walk in. He notices you but instantly looks away. Not in shyness, but in hopes you wouldn’t notice his 6’4 figure, or the infamous ghost mask. He watches you stand at the bar looking around. The bar lights light up your face, illuminating your cheek bones and your cute nose. The way that your eyelashes batted in quick increments is so captivat- ‘Ghost you’re getting sidetracked, get it together.’ You quickly look at your phone and see no notifications. 20 minutes pass, then thirty minutes. He sees you hang your head and pick it back up to ask the bartender for a drink. He watches your lips and sees you mouth the words ‘double’. You get your drink and take a big gulp, letting the drink warm your throat.

You look around and make eye contact with him. You begin hesitantly walking towards him and he starts to roll his eyes.

Here we go again, how should I steer this one away? He thinks to himself. He watches you walk closer stick out your hand to shake and-

“Hi, I’m y/n. I just got stood up for a first date and I could really use a friend right now so I feel less shitty about it. What’s your name?” You think for a second “And your favorite color.”

Oh. Oh.

He hesitates to answer, but a switch flips in him.

“You can call me Ghost. And asking me my favorite color is too personal of a question for me, but let me buy you another drink for getting stood up.”

He liked you already.

#cod mw2 #x reader #call of duty x you #ghost cod #ghost x reader #reader insert #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #female reader

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wulvercazz · 13 hours

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Watching🐦

Previous~🌱 Part 2 of this AU finally has some a lil written bit to ittt 🥰

Ichigo wonders, for quite some time, why the blue haired witch lives so far away from any neighbouring town. Not that he's one in any place to judge, but he still wonders. They carry themselves with quiet caution, looking around at any disturbance while they go about their morning; silently picking at the greenery that grows so much wildly here than anywhere else he's seen. He doesn't like stealing, but he's no stranger to it; so among realizing more and more about the witch, he worries they might just never stray far enough from their home to snoop around a little for anything tasty. And it's not surprising. This little nook of the land is like a paradise hidden away from human grasp, filled with anything the witch might need and more. He's seen them clip away at poisonous plants and mushrooms alike, whatever for. Perhaps he watches for too long, gets too curious, or the witch is far too knowledgable to skip past their sight. Ichigo almost falls right down to the heavy roots of the thick tree he's hiding on, hangs from the branch bellow all long limbs and puffed up tail, when their blue eyes seem to glow a threatening white as they meet right with his even through the thick foliage. But then the witche's face smooths out the firm frown, and their eyes turn back soft, and Ichigo starts to feel more like a bug on a jar. A heavy breath escapes the witch, turning back around to their cottage before something seems to stop them on their tracks. Ichigo almost falls right over again, trying to catch whatever was thrown his way; the witch gives him one last silent glance before leaving. It's a simple cloth, embroidered symbols all over, tied around what smells like dough and savory goodness. Ichigo finds it impossible to leave after that, even though that's probably what the witch would want him to do.

~🌿~

#ichigo kurosaki #ichigrimm #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #一グリ #CottagecoreAU #phoenix!Ichigo #witch!Grimmjow #they/them Grimm #digital watercolor #grimmIchi

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iydkmigthtkygimmethat · 2 days

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IYDKMIGTHTKY (Gimme That) is literally Andre and Cal

long ass yap session undercut + i'm kinda stupid and bad at writing

"You sure you really wanna do this?"

Andre hesitates to pull the trigger as Cal convinces him to do it.

It's been doing some thinking It felt fair that she should know All actions in which partake Are far beyond its control Whether it was born or bred (Genetic, environment) I wouldn't bother to ask it why Simply concentrate on when, when

"It" here is Cal, while Andre is "she". "I've been doing some thinking, it felt fair that Andre should know all actions in which partake are far beyond my control" Cal's point of view, dealing with depression and being suicidal.

Cal says "I don't know if Andre knows this, But I'm coming out in a black plastic bag."(paraphrasing here). Basically saying that he wouldn't run away with Andre and he's planned to kill himself there no matter what. In this way their relationship is one-sided. Andre is willing to kill himself for Cal but He wouldn't LIVE for Andre.

"Whether he was born or bred" is Cal himself, born or made depressed later in his life. He views himself as fucked up, Born depressed, and born to die young.

"Genetic, Environment" obviously being genetic mental illness or his environment made him this way.

"I wouldn't bother to ask him why. Simply concentrate on when, when." No one asked Cal if he was alright, No one saw the signs of him being suicidal and fucked up. No one asked him why.

"Concentrate on when." is him fixating on Zero Day. When he can finally take his life. With or without Andre.

It lies awake, yes, quite obsessed Making plans but it won't tell So longs to hear her final words: "I brought this on myself" The theory of futility Now you'll learn, so be prepared Enemies are equal to Wrath times the speed of fright squared

"he lays awake, yes, quite obsessed." Cal obsessing over Zero Day. Wondering if Andre will do it with him despite his plans to run away. if Andre would run away without him.

"Making plans but he won't tell." His plans to end his life after Zero Day.

"So longs to hear his final words: "I brought this on myself"." Cal wants to hear Andre realizing that they could never get out of there alive.

"I brought this on myself." would be Andre realizing that his disappointment was by himself. He should've never expected that they could run away Zero Day.

"The theory of futility. Now you'll learn, so be prepared" The 'theory' is Zero Day. After the attack, Cal is fulfilled and is ready to die. Now Andre will learn that he will have to die there too, if he's ready or not.

"Enemies are equal to wrath times the speed of fright squared" on god I have NO idea what this line means but I'm taking it as it means nothing. The 'enemies' are their school/peers which means nothing to them.

If you don't kill me I'm going to have to kill you

I've thought about this line the most and honestly to me, it feels like it's Cal to Andre during their suicide scene. "If we don't kill ourselves here, I will kill myself without you"

There is no way to get Cal to change his mind about this

"I'm going to have to kill you" is him convincing Andre to go through with it and do it with him.

My God helps those who help themselves Of thus, she shan't be ashamed Crawl into line and wait your turn Remember Jesus slaves Department of Probation: "Legally it can't be blamed" Held therefore unaccountable Since it's clinically insane What a shame again"

"My god helps those who help themselves" to them. They ARE god, they 'helped' their peers by going through with their attack.

"Of thus, he shan't be ashamed. Crawl into line and wait your turn." Andre shouldn't be ashamed of killing himself there. It was what was meant to happen, so "Get into line and wait your turn." killing himself after his peers.

"Department of Probation: "Legally it can't be blamed". " They didn't think of the consequences their families would face after their attack.. such as "Andre Kriegman's parents were the focus of a criminal investigation based on the fact that Gerhard Kriegman's firearms were used in the attack and that the alteration of the shotgun and the construction of pipe bombs had occurred in the Kriegman house. Johanne and Gerhard Kriegman were charged with 9 counts of criminal negligence; one for each pipe bomb constructed, and one each for the revolver and shotgun Andre Kriegman obtained from his father. The parents were able to plead to a lesser charge; they did not serve jail time."

"Since it's clinically insane. What a shame again." They never thought of themselves as mentally ill, and they never got the help they needed. If they hadn't gone through with Zero Day Andre could've had a successful life, while Cal would most likely still end his life eventually. "What a shame again".

You must decide We're out of time No place to hide Your choice, not mine

"You must decide, We're out of time," Cal tells Andre that this is where Cal is to die and Andre has to decide if this is when he dies with him.

"No place to hide" Andre will not be able to get away from this, He can't run.

"Your choice, not mine," Cal would think this, but he knows Andre can't go on without him.

Andre and Cal mean so much to me please tell me someone sees my vision

i love them so much and once I realized that they have a one-sided relationship BROKE ME.

Andre KILLED HIMSELF for Cal. But CAL wouldn't LIVE for Andre ☹☹☹

#zero day #andre kriegman #cal gabriel #zero day 2003 #caldre

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eventinelysplayground · 2 days

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A Glance & A Dance

This is @violettduchess request for my 50 follower event. I already explained the saga behind this but it really was so much fun! I decided to go less trauma more because the one I had with more trauma and angst was getting pretty dark and I also couldn't pull it together. Only thing I wish I could have come up with a better title, I'm trying to get more creative with them just it's not working well. I hope you enjoy and that it adds to your day, and thanks again for the support and congrats! Mild swearing, WC approx 1967.

The stars in the night sky glimmered like jewels, as did the young ladies in their splendid dresses. The palace ballroom was lively and the music drifted on the night breeze while everyone laughed and enjoyed themselves, everyone except for two princes who stood on opposite sides of the room, one smiling while talking with everyone and masking his pain, the other silently watching.

He's always been strong. He'll get over her, he has to.

The first notes of another waltz began to play but rather than ask any of the dozen young ladies around him for their hand Leon gave them all a smile and walked away.

Come on Leon there's gotta be one woman here that-

“For somebody who's idea this whole thing was, you don't look to be having any fun.”

Jin didn't even bother to turn in Clavis's direction.

“Me having fun isn't the point of this.”

“Oh?”

Jin took the drink that Clavis so casually offered him and took a long sip, his gaze still focused on Leon.

“It won't work, you know that right.”

“Why not? He fell in love before and a ball is the perfect place for it after all, two hearts can become one with a dance.”

Clavis blinked in a daze for a moment then he burst out laughing.

“If it were really that easy I don't think you'd be feeling so guilty now would you."

Perceptive bastard aren't you.

“It may hurt for a while but it'll be better in the long run for everyone if he just moves on. None of us were supposed to fall in love with Emma to begin with-”

“But some of us did, didn't we? And I'm not just talking about Leon.”

Jin's grip tightened around his glass and his jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“You confessing to being in love with her too, Clavis?”

“Me no, but perhaps you want to take a good look at yourself.”

“I'm not in love with Emma.”

I can't allow myself to be. She deserves a hell of a lot better than me, better than Leon too. She deserves a life better than anything that awaited her here, she deserves to be happy.

Jin was expecting Clavis to laugh or try to push him on the matter but instead there was only silence. When he finally bothered to look at Clavis he found him staring down watching the grape juice swirl inside his glass as he toyed with it.

“I don't think any of us is qualified to give lectures on love or what to do about it to anyone but, I know Leon isn't happy and I doubt Emma is either. Is making two people so obviously miserable really the right thing to do, or is it what's easiest for you?”

Clavis didn't wait for a reply, instead walking off into the crowd leaving Jin alone with his thoughts. Jin was frustrated, not even with Clavis but with himself. How many times had he asked himself the same questions Clavis had just asked him? Jin downed the last of his drink and started walking across the ballroom.

I need some damn air.

He crossed the ballroom and exited out onto the balcony. The night air was cooling and helped to calm his thoughts as he leaned against the railing. As he stood there listening to the music he was brought back to a night similar to this one some twelve years ago.

“How have you been enjoying tonight's ball so far?”

“Fine.”

“What do you think of the guests? Any in particular that have made an impression?”

Jin knew what his father was asking and internally he grimaced.

“Sure, quite a few of them have sand in all the right places.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I'm sure there's a couple that wouldn't mind playing by my rules in-”

The King's fist came down hard on the balcony railing sending a dull thud into the night air.

“Is that all you care about? Just satisfying your base lust and carnal desires!”

Jin's jaw clenched, how dare his father try to lecture him on giving into base desires.

“What about your future? What about love?”

“Love!?”

Jin spat the word out as if it burned his mouth.

“Yes love. I would like for you to have love in your life, like I did once. A ball is the perfect place for that after all, it was when I was dancing with your mother that I realized how in love with her I really was.”

“What?”

“It was a waltz. We were from two different worlds and I hadn't really allowed myself to think…but all it took was a glance during that dance and I knew. She loved me and wanted me as much as I did her and so I took a chance. When the waltz was done I took her out on the balcony and I confessed my love for her and asked if she loved me in return. She gave me the sweetest smile and and an even sweeter kiss, our two hearts became one because of that dance.”

“Love is nothing but a curse.”

“Then I hope it's a curse you one day have.”

Jin stood there and sighed at the memory, he was about to go back in when he noticed Leon further down, his hands resting on the balcony railing and a look of sadness in his eyes.

Come on Leon, you have to know that doing this is best for everyone. Hell if Emma could have been happy here I would have made my move well before you ever had a chance to make her fall in love with you but she wouldn't be happy she’d just be mis-

‘Is making two people so obviously miserable really the right thing to do?’

No, no it's not. I really screwed this one up didn't I? Hopefully I still have time to make this right. I may not be the one who gets to make her happy but-

“Hey.”

Jin called out to Leon as he approached him but Leon didn't acknowledge him, things had been strained between them lately. Leon had come up with a proposal to keep Emma by his side and all their other brothers had readily agreed to it but Jin wouldn't budge, not until tonight.

“Leon.”

“Oh Jin, sorry I didn't see you out here.”

“You looked like you were thinking pretty hard about something.”

“It was nothing, do you need something or.”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On you admitting what you were thinking about.”

“Then forget it.”

Jin knew Leon had every right to be angry with him, and that was only for the stuff Leon knew about, but the distance between them now and the venom in Leon's voice stung. As Leon began to walk back inside Jin called out to him.

“You were thinking about Emma again weren't you?”

“If you're going to try and-”

“Just listen okay, I promise you don't have to listen to another word I ever say as long as you listen to me now.”

I'm the one who needs to let go so she can be happy.

**** One year later ****

On another night when the sky was filled with stars that shined like jewels and music was carried on the breeze a prince stood silently watching but this time it wasn't another prince he watched.

Emma had agreed to annul clause ninety nine and shortly after she had returned to the palace for good. All his brothers were happy she was back but especially Leon, Jin had never seen him as happy as that night on the balcony when he told him he would give in but only if Emma agreed to it.

I guess it all worked out for the best. I'm not the type of man who could make a woman like Emma happy, not really anyways but Leon's different. I know he'll do anything to make sure her life is full of love and happiness. Guess you got your wish after all huh old man?

Jin was watching Emma as she talked with a group of women her age then suddenly their eyes met across the room and she smiled at him.

I love seeing you smile like that. If only I could truly let you go but as much as I've tried I can't.

Jin saw that Emma was excusing herself and his eyes followed her as she came to stand at his side.

“Hey there Emma, you look like you're having fun.”

“I really am, I've talked to so many people and danced so much tonight.”

“That's good, it's important to enjoy yourself.”

“What about you? I’ve barely seen you talk to anyone or dance once tonight.”

“Haha. Is that your way of trying to get me to dance with you?”

Jin reached out and playfully tousled Emma's hair.

“I'm flattered but I couldn't possibly dance with you.”

“Are you afraid I'll step on your toes like I did to Yves?”

“No, I'm afraid that with just one dance you'll fall madly in love with me.”

“Oh I see…wait, what?”

Jin slid an arm around Emma's waist, his voice taking on a seductive lilt.

“It's only natural after all, the soft music, the rhythmic motions, how close you have to be to one another, the longing gazes. One dance is all it can take for two people's hearts to become one”

This may be selfish of me but...

“It also helps that I'm already madly in love with you. I have been for a long time and I want to be the one to make you happy so badly it hurts. You have no idea how jealous I am of Leon, that he’s the one who gets to be with you, kiss you, make love to you.”

Jin tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“I'm also super sexy and still in the prime of my youth, so all those combined the only thing you could do is fall in love with me and then I'd have to fight Leon for you, shirtless of course.”

I can't be with you and that's the best thing for you, even if you didn't love somebody else it would still be best for us not to be together. All I can do for you now is watch over you.

Jin’s voice was purposely light, a smile on his face and he started to laugh as he removed his hand from Emma's waist.

“You should see the expression on your face, did I take it too far this time?.”

“Jin, don't tease me like that! I thought you were serious!”

“Sorry, I promise I won't tease you like that again. How about I make it up to you by dancing with you after all?”

Jin was about to offer Emma his hand but then he noticed Leon approaching from the corner of his eye.

“Looks like that dance will have to wait for another time, unless you really do want me to fight Leon shirtless?”

“No! I'm perfectly fine with no shirtless fighting!”

“Do I want to know what the two of you were talking about?”

“Leon! Jin was just teasing me again, that's all.”

“Well then it looks like I'm just in time, care to dance Emma?”

“With pleasure!”

“See you two later. Oh and Emma, don't forget what I said, it only takes one dance.”

I don't really mind living with this curse. Leon makes you happy and as long as you can always be happy, unlike them.

The ball was long over but in the stillness just before the dawn, when shadows played along the walls there in the middle of the ballroom the ghosts of a Belle and her Prince took one more glance and one more dance.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri fanfic #ikemen prince jin #ikemen prince leon #jin grandet #leon dompteur #ikepri jin #ikepri leon #ikepri emma #50 followers

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mcnuggyy · 1 year

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just remembered the fucked up dream I had last night where like 99% of the population switched bodies with somebody else somewhere in the world, BUT you weren’t aloud to talk about it at all or say who you really are or what your actual body looks like or else the government(?) would fucking kill you, like there was cameras watching us at all times, and people getting shot in front of us was common, it was very dystopian… but it was kind of an unspoken fact that almost all the people who were doing the best job at pretending to be people they weren’t were all transgender for some reason?? to the point where a lot of us had found ways to talk about it without talking about it and could bypass the cameras and shit… and the like guy who was all behind it had to get involved eventually…and he like started interviewing some of us and finally once and for all had us talk about who we really were and it was very dramatic and emotional but I woke up like immediately after saying what I looked like and who I was so 🤷🏻 who knows what would have happened next LMAO

#definitley some sort of weird queer horror trans narrative going on #but waking up I was like damn… I was getting misgendered left and right non stop and just had to deal w it #then I was like oh that’s already my existence LMAO #(I was on the body of a very very attractive young blonde woman btw #like MODEL type but I was still unhappy… even being conventionally attractive cause obviously I wasn’t myself #and I can’t even imagine what it would have been like with people experiencing racism for the first time or not experiencing it for the firs #t time… all sorts of wack stuff #I remember there being like a 60 year old guy who was on the body of a little girl #and when they die their bodies switch backed so you would see the like dead old man there instead of the little girl #but I’m not sure what happened to the other person you switched with? like did they die too? would u be responsible for their death?#or would they get to finally live as themselves again?#which would be worse?#idk…#cause then I could see like someone trying to find themself and then try and trick the other person #into talking about it so they could return back to their body #or you would always be on fear that someone out there on the other side of the world could kill you at any moment #NOT TO MENTION THE LANGUAGE BARRIER OF THATS A THING but I think in my dream people just were able to speak the language of the body they #switched into but yeah… anyways <3 #very interesting thought experience once again my dreams are always so strange lmao #callate guero

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momochiiee-reblogs · 5 months

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Being screamed at for things that aren't my fault seems to be a norm in this house

There's cookware scattered an dirty? Guess who gets blamed for it? The exact one that almost never has spoons for cooking in the first place

I live cleaning the trail after me so they won't have any reason to scream at me, but my brother leaves absolute messes behind him and the screams are for me

Fuck off

#momochiiee mussings #then people ask why it's almost impossible to hear me walking around #I've grown used to avoiding at all costs being noticed and leaving anything that can tell I was through there #when I get up from the table I'm always told to put their dishes in the dishwasher as I am putting mine #then the days I'm not around no one fucking cleans the table after themselves and I am still the one that gets called dirty and messy #my room is a mess YES. but the rest of the house isn't my room and therefore Isn't my living space and I must make sure I do not litter #I clean my own room when I have the spoons for it and refuse for anyone else to do it for me. it's my mess and I must deal with it myself #why do they insist I am to blame for their own mess of the kitchen when I barely have the energy to cook once a month???#and it's not like they don't entrust other chores to me #but I digress I'm just mad because I've been blamed for the mess my dad and brother did and blamed on me just because I went there #every time I happen to have the energy to cook they complain about my cooking or blame messes on me even if I handwash & put away everything #it would be nice if they spared a fucking word of appreciation every now and then #I'm not asking them to call me endearingly but at least to not spit on any tiny effort I manage to make... or blame me for their mistakes #I'm starting to see how as soon as I am rendered jobless mid December I'll start to get screamed at again more often #and get the I'm a nuisance treatment because I can't afford basic stuff anymore #it's going to be a long year for sure... but I must put my all on the intensive classes so I can score a good job #If I manage... I will finally be able to get out of here and have my own space without any more screams #and without them brushing off my sensory triggers every time I try to explain how certain things and situations get me anxious af

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mihotose · 2 years

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江音ステージ

#like ongyoku sai #also looking at the visual again they are building that stage by themselves....#like theyre literally doing it!!! building it from the bottom up kotegiri is a great pioneer #weve only had one main myu this year (swamped by tanki and souki oops) but id still love a full gou live #i was thinking during srs22 about a goumyu and what id like is straight up.#kotegiri telling the others he wants to perform in front of everyone with them all and so the story is just #them practising in their uchiban every day in the honmaru getting better and better over time until they finally do the actual performance #as a nibu in new nibu outfits #that's what i want.#like not a complete live like kashuu's bc there is a plot but not like either souki bc the plot isnt worldbreaking or symbolic or anything #gemitus #i still think its weird that they didnt announce this at daisenshuuraku like what was stopping them all eight of them were there #i never posted a repo for daisenshuuraku but i DID cry at starting now btw #like i really would like some utaawase-esque honmaru life content #esp since kotegiri and matsui havent really interacted with samidare and murakumo yet #tkrb #toumyu

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chucklechampion · 8 months

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evening dedicated to The Horrors

#i just need to fucking vent man #i cannot fucking live like this anymore #i still dont have the tags for my car and its almost been a year #a whole year where i didnt go ANYWHERE but work and home and sometimes special occasions when i felt i could risk it #and the daily agonizing fear of being pulled over again and getting a ticket that i cant afford because i cant afford to pay for my tags #ive gotten one of those smart watches that can track your heart rate and stress and im genuinely developing a heart problem from stress #when i was driving home tonight i think i mightve had an arrhythmia which was a scary feeling #im going off of caffiene from here on out because im starting to be afraid that i might have a heart attack #im twenty fucking five years old and im so stressed and scared about money that im afraid of a heart attack #i miss being able to go and do things and just get out of my generally shitty house #i feel like i would be a totally different person if this was just finally taken care of #someone who doesnt feel like they need to hospitalize themselves because the neverending stress is making you suicidal #because it feels like it’ll never end and i’ll be scared and hurting forever #because how the fuck am i gonna get almost $2000 when im going through a garnishment #like i can barely afford to pay all my billa #fuck i CANT even pay my bills my mom is covering my phone bill this month #because i’d have to choose between car insurance or a phone #and god for fucking bid i ever lose my insurance #the level of fear i would have just trying to get to and from work would kill me #and the longer this goes on the more i wonder if that might actually happen #im smoking way more because im stressed. i cant sleep because im stressed. i cant eat because im stressed.#all things that preclude some pretty serious cardiovascular problems #i have a doctors appointment on tuesday to discuss my heart #im nervous for it but who knows #i have had an exceptionally high heart rate but maybe the arrythimia was just psychosomatic #my money troubles have completely stopped my life and i cant see a way out #i feel like im drowning and like im going clinically insane #i was outside sitting in our carport and a cop drove by and i was so terrified i spent 10 minutes hiding in an empty room #looking through the blinds to see if they were gonna come do something #i am so afraid that i have considered quitting my job because the commute is so stressful and upsetting

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diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls · 5 months

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The first real conversation Katniss has with Peeta is when he tells her that he wants to die as himself, that he doesn't want the games to change him into something he's not, and that he wants to keep his identity and prove he's more than just a piece in their games because that's the only thing he has left to care about.

The first time we see Lucy Gray she sings a song that basically says that nothing they could take from her was worth keeping. "Can't take my past. Can't take my history... You can't take my charm. You can't take my health."

The capitol has taken everything from them both, but at the same time, they could never take away who they are.

They are both likeable charismatic and funny, with the kindest hearts, and incredibly loyal to the people they care about.

At the same time, everything they do before the games, and during is calculated. Lucy Gray singing a love song and winning the hearts of the capitol. Peeta confesses he's in love with his district partner, therefore cementing her identity as desirable. Both of them know how to sway people with words, how to charm people, and how to manipulate crowds. Neither of them has any problem doing so to keep themselves, and the people they love safe.

Lucy Gray's song The Old Therebefore, about learning how to love and live her life to the fullest before death, a final and calculated stroke in a last-ditch effort to save herself from the arena. This evokes enough emotion in the watchers to get them to rise to their feet and plead for her life alongside Snow.

Snow, watching the 74th and preparing for the 75th Hunger Games sees Lucy Gray in Katniss. A young girl, from the 12th district. Unafraid at the reaping. Selling a false love story, manipulating a boy who loves her in order to get out and supporting the revolution with the mockingjay as her symbol.

He threatens her family to get her to sell that she and Peeta are in love, to prevent the revolution, because obviously, she's pretending. He's had experience with a girl just like her before. He has no doubt that she has the acting ability to sell this story because clearly, she manipulated the first Hunger Games in her favor, the same way Lucy Gray manipulated him.

Watching the interviews for the 75th Hunger Games he realizes-

Katniss is just an impulsive girl, in a Mockingjay dress she didn't know about, made by someone who supports the revolution.

Peeta is a boy who has the ability to move people with just his words. He made Katniss desirable, he was the one who sold the love story, and he was the one to make their romance seem real. Katniss only started the revolution because she would rather risk dying with him than live without him. A concept President Snow was completely unfamiliar with. And it is with all these realizations crashing around him Peeta drops the baby bomb. He knows the baby's not real, and so does Snow. But it evokes enough emotion in the watchers to get them to rise to their feet and plead for the lives of the tributes.

Is it Lucy Gray or Peeta?

By the time Snow realizes he's made a mistake, it's too late.

Peeta is still charming and manipulating the capitol. Katniss is in love.

He goes up against a kindhearted boy expecting to beat Sejanus again, only to find out that it's Lucy Gray he's fighting; knowing he will never be able to escape their ghosts.

-from a conversation i had with @grandtyphoonpoetry breaking down every character in the hunger games.

#I have so many thoughts about this #they are so powerful with their words #i will never get over how many different kinds of power fueled this revolution #everything came full circle #peeta mellark #lucy gray baird #katniss everdeen #coriolanus snow #president snow #the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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kafkasmuses · 4 months

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innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

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ennas-aesthetic · 9 months

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If we DO ever get a Good Omens season 3 (and fingers crossed we will) then using the Second Coming as the narrative device to facilitate the final culmination of Good Omens' ideology and message is brilliant, actually.

Because the Second Coming IS NOT another Adam situation. And, contrary to the misconceptions I've seen, It IS NOT about Jesus being born again as a baby, etc, etc.

THE SECOND COMING. QUITE LITERALLY refers to THE LAST JUDGMENT.

As in. The SAME Last Judgment Michelangelo painted on the walls of the Sistine Chapel. As in - THE JUDGMENT of the Living and the Dead. THE LAST, FINAL, ETERNAL JUDGMENT.

It's the WHOLE thing Armageddon was leading towards. Book of Revelation speedrun: the world ends, everyone dies, and then they get resurrected again to be judged by JESUS himself. He will flick through the Book of Life (WINK WINK WINK DO YOU SEE HOW LOUDLY I'M WINKING AT YOU???), and if your name is there he will go "oh nice you deserve eternal paradise! :D" and if your name is ERASED from the Book of Life he will go "oh no, sorry, you go to the lake of fire for eternity now D:" (except apparently in Good Omens lore it'd just DOOM YOU TO NON-EXISTENCE FOREVER???)

And if you THINK about it, The Last Judgment is the ultimate manifestation of moral absolutism. No shades of gray, no chances. Just BLACK, and WHITE. Never mind that you're like Wee Morag and Elspeth, who are forced to do "bad" things because of circumstances. It's either you pass Judgment Day, or you burn (or disappear forever.) And the way THINGS are going in the Good Omens universe? I don't think there's ANYONE "good" enough to be "saved." Not Crowley, not Aziraphale. Hell, not even the Archangels themselves.

So it provides a PERFECT opportunity for Aziraphale and Crowley to UPEND that SYSTEM entirely.

I think that's what Crowley and Aziraphale would do in s3: establish a new kind of system in which angels and demons have free will to determine the right (or wrong) choice.

Giving them the APPLE, so to speak.

And then they'll go off to retire in a cottage, together at last.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #im sorry but i choke everytime someone refers to a baby jesus for the second coming #like i love yall and parent trapping aziraphale and crowley by the infant son of god would be amusing as heck #but also i rlly think this is about the Last Judgment guys KSLDSKDKLDS #thank you good omens yes this IS in fact how i use my collection of niche trivia on christian eschatology #putting my religious trauma into good use iktr

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absentlyabbie · 10 months

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i'll tell you what converted me to being all-in on keeping cats indoors only:

living for a year and a half in a rural area with a sudden feral cat colony explosion on the property.

i moved in with my folks for a bit and at that time, one (1) stray cat mama had taken up residence on the property, but was too feral to let my mother anywhere near her. but especially after she brought three kittens around, mom fed her and the kittens in hopes they'd grow trusting enough she could catch for spay and neuter at the minimum. momcat stayed mean and hella wary, but the kittens would hang around a little nearer and play with my mom via long stick, but still wouldn't come close enough to touch or catch.

unfortunately, two of the three kittens were girls and started having kittens of their own before further progress was made, shortly after i moved in. and that was pretty much instant doom.

there were so many kittens. SO MANY. multiple litters. every time we turned around, more kittens.

we fed them. we hunted for and located the kittens every time anywhere on the property and would move them to a repurposed doghouse anytime a mama cat had them somewhere else, so that they could grow up human-socialized and we could spay/neuter them when they were old enough. (also it was a handy tactic to push the issue of the mamas getting more used to/trusting of us themselves. only really worked with one of them, though.)

and we watched them die.

we watched litter after litter of kittens never make it to the age they could be spayed or neutered. the moms stayed, for the longest time, too skittish to more than briefly touch, much less catch and crate for a vet visit.

it sounds like a silly joke to say i have kitten-related ptsd, but i absolutely do.

too many goddamn times i'd walk out of the garage and find the carport and gravel drive strewn with tiny bodies. others simply went missing, never to be found.

one in particular, i wish i hadn't found, and the visual literally haunts me still, almost a decade later.

i saw so many kittens die of snake bite, spider bite, wild dogs, birds of prey, hit by cars, respiratory illness, covered in fleas and eyes crusted with infection.

and we loved them all. scrimped for antibiotics if the vet could be convinced to give it to us despite our being unable to bring them in. bought flea collars and ointments. we cared for them and fed them and petted them and played with them, brushed their fur and cleaned up their little faces, put ice in their water in hot summer, rigged a heating lamp in their house in the winter.

and they died. horribly. that property is pocked with unmarked graves of kittens and cats.

all the best intentions, not enough resources, and it didn't matter anyways because the population went from three to almost twenty (at times, over thirty) in the blink of an eye.

they died and died and died. our hearts broke over and over again. the stress and anxiety wore us down like sandpaper. i think, by the end of it all, we managed to find less than 10 of them all homes, including batman the disabled kitten i found a home across the country through tumblr.

it was carnage and tragedy, frankly. and we were helpless.

it only ended because they started dying faster than they could be born, and because we finally caught the two remaining mom cats in traps and got them spayed.

the points about outdoor cats being invasive predators devastating to local wildlife populations is true and valid and important.

but i know cat people, and cat people who don't know better than to let cats outdoors. what matters to you is the cat itself, generally. the cat being happy and taken care of.

keeping cats outdoors, letting them outdoors, is not taking care of the cats. it's not protecting them. it's not giving them any happiness or invigoration that couldn't be provided to them as indoor-only pets with just a little research and effort.

they die. they get ill. they get hurt. they're at risk of predators, and cars, and disease, and carelessly cruel children and deliberately cruel adults. they're at risk of disappearing on you because someone else saw a cat outdoors and intervened to give it a better, safer life not in conflict with the local environment.

and if that offends and angers you that someone would just take a cat they saw roaming outdoors, even collared, and that it sounds like i'm endorsing that, i am, but not if you intervene and be that person yourself for your own cat.

if what matters to you is doing right by your cat because it's family and a living creature whose happiness and health and safety is important to you,

keep them indoors. not part time. always. exclusively.

edit: since apparently i need to clarify this, i'm saying cats should live inside, that they should not live outdoors, even part time. visiting the outdoors supervised on a leash or in an enclosed catio is not the same as even part-time living outside, and i am certainly not advocating against it.

#long post #cats #indoor cats #outdoor cats #keep your cats inside

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