FUCK THIS FUCKING FUCKER I THOUGHT HE WAS HOLDING A ROSE!! AND I WAS SCREAMING LIKE WTF PLS LOOK AT HIM AND THIS WARM LIHTINGING WHAT KINDA MOOD??? THEN I REALIZED ITS A DART AND I WAS STILL SCREAMING LOOK AT HIS FUCKIGN FACE!!1!!1! FUCK YOU
I’m enjoying my vacation more than I thought I would. Sam is running L-Corp beautifully, based on the lack of news I’ve seen; James is still doing fantastic work over at CatCo, and Kara is, well, to be honest, she’s the only thing I’ve thought about for the past three days. She’s just so… beautiful? And strong? She kinda reminds me of Supergirl, but they’re also really different.
Don’t get me wrong, Supergirl is amazing, and super (ha!) hot, but there’s something about Kara’s soft smile and her endless belief in me. She’s something else.
Anyways, I’ve been having a fantastic time in the Keyes! I got to swim with some dolphins yesterday. As soon as the people read the name on the reservation, they suddenly became very interested in making sure I had the best experience possible. I could start using a fake name, but as long as I can’t hear what they’re saying behind my back, the treatment isn’t bad.
Since I’ve still officially left both of my companies, there really isn’t a point in me returning any time soon! I think I’ll go to Chicago next, I hear their beaches are really nice.
One thing I don’t understand is how people hate 11 yr old Sansa for her trusting and gentle nature, how she doted on Joffrey and admired Cersei, trusted them in the beginning. But no one seems to ever hate on D*enerys for being daft enough to genuinely believe Mirri Maz Duur was going to save her precious Khal, despite having been r*ped repeatedly by the Dothraki.
Also, it’s incredibly funny how many D*ny stans/J*nerys shippers think Sansa is an irrelevant character? I mean, really, Sansa Stark, the only Stark to have survived the South and made connections with a bunch of characters, the Sansa Stark who is the Key to the North, is irrelevant?
Why don’t y’all just admit that you’re scared because Sansa’s proven to have potential to actually rule, while your pyromaniac conquerer has done nothing except let her allies fucking die because she can’t even manage to do nothing which must mean Sansa has a better chance of surviving because the story needs an already established character to pick up the pieces post-war and D*ny is NOT it.
My girl is out here thinking long term, preparing for refugees seeking shelter, without even having a counsel around to guide her. Meanwhile, your little inbred warmonger is out her fucking up big time while having the best fucking team of intellectuals and generals trying their best to guide her. But does she listen to them? Fuck no.
some of y’all are real bold thinking that im coming for jaehyun and think that i let ppl that I see everyday get away with it. bih, first of all, you dont know me. i am never ok with anyways my roommate doesn’t even mouth the word, sing it, or whatever when we listen to music together bc she knows that i wouldn’t be ok with it. if you, as a black person, are ok with him doing this, then that’s on y’all. but some of us are not ok with it, and we have every right to speak out in it.
and yes, there is a difference between straight up being disrespectful towards him and sending death threats and calling him a racist. i don’t think him doing this makes him a racist, first all, that’s literally the dumbest thing that ive seen so far. but it was ignorant and wrong on his part, regardless. so you can voice your opinions, but don’t be purposefully ugly and mean towards him.
What really gets to me is how we normalize cheating by treating having ‘side chicks/dicks’ as simply and saying you have 2 phones.
It is cheating. Plain and simple.
There’s nothing comedic about it as all the instagram comedians make their 'comedy’ skits and memes about.
Being cheated on hurts.
And people actually think its okay?
It hurts to be cheated on.
And its not okay.
Its not okay for the hearts that get broken
There’s no excuse for cheating. Just break up. If you need to be with another person then you clearly don’t love the other enough. Just end it. You don’t deserve them. They deserve better. Dont hide messages and sneak around. It hurts. Just end it.
Fight me on this, I dare you
- currently sobbing my fucking lungs out after a bad break up with someone disloyal who I loved SO FUCKING MUCH. It hurts. Dont do it.
(Hey, so I finally decided to post some of my writing on here to see the response and decide if i’m going to post anymore. Any feedback is appreciated, positive or constructive criticism! I’m pretty new to writing fanfics.)
Kon woke up sick to his stomach.
His eyes cracked open to see the room still dark. The sun had yet to filter in through the gaps in his blinds, and the room was silent other than the small electric fan singing monotonously in the corner. He wasn’t sure what exactly could’ve caused him to startle awake.
Kon shook his head. His body was drenched in sweat, the fabric of his boxers sticking uncomfortably to his skin like the stray hair plastered to his forehead. His body felt sore and achy, and his stomach lurched as he pushed himself up on his bed.
Kon blindly grasped for his phone on the nightstand, fingers closing around the object and pushing the home button. The sudden brightness of his screen was blinding as he squinted to check the time.
Kon aggressively swiped through his contacts, selecting his friend’s name from the long list and pressing call. The phone rang four times.
"…-y the fuck, Kon?“
Kon glared into the darkness. "I hate you,” groaned as he crossed one arm over his abdomen. There was a tired moan of frustration on the other end of the call.
"Dude, you can’t just call me and say that, you gotta clarify, we’ve been through this,“ Bart huffed. Kon muttered something that even he couldn’t decipher under his breath. Something about Taco Bueno. If the sudden snickers from the other end were anything to go by, his friend had heard him.
Kon flopped back onto his damp bed, moving his hand to rake his fingers through his hair. "My stomach is killing me, and it’s your damn fault,” he complained. Bart scoffed quietly on the other end. “Whatever, dude. You’re the one who decided to eat seven tacos.” It was true. He did do that.
"Tim is coming over today. We were gonna talk about a case and get some stuff done,“ Kon sighed, starting to lean up but stopping as the muscles in his stomach tightened painfully. Shouldn’t he have some alien immunity to this shit?
”Hold up, bro. You got sick on date day? That blows,“ Bart’s voice was still heavy with sleep. Kon frowned, his forehead wrinkling. "Solving murder cases isn’t exactly a date. But, still,” he puffed out, turning his head to glare at the wall. “I don’t wanna cancel on him. I haven’t seen him out of costume for weeks,” he murmured. Bart gave a long sigh as Kon shoved his face into the pillow, hoping it might suffocate him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. I’ll call him and tell him what’s up and not to come, just go to sleep,” Bart reassured him tiredly.
Kon wanted to argue, but he felt like complete shit. His reply was muffled by the pillow as he ended the call and set his phone back on the stand, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe he would feel better after a few hours of sleep, and then he could still see Tim without humiliating himself.
When he woke up a few hours later, someone was in his room. Kon jerked out of a dreamless sleep when something touched his face. His eyes snapped open, his body instinctively tensing as he prepared to swing. His gaze settled on the familiar figure silhouetted by his bedroom light, and the scent of expensive soap and shampoo that he had come to love washed over him. His body relaxed. Tim.
Tim leaned in closer, smiling slightly. Kon blinked in confusion, but didn’t try and question his boyfriend as he dabbed at Kon’s feverish skin with a damp washcloth, the fingers of his free hand gently brushing his face and checking his fever. “Sorry to intrude. Bart said you were sick and to stay home, but I wanted to come see you,” he spoke quietly, his voice already lulling Kon to sleep again. He nodded and forced his eyes to stay open, staring up at Tim’s face. “Didn’t want you t'see me like this,” he slurred, squinting as he shifted and his muscles contorted, his body tensing. Tim made a concerned noise. He took Kon’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
"Sorry, babe…g-guess I don’t look that hot right now,“ Kon finally breathed. His stomach was still cramping terribly. He closed his eyes as he felt fingers card through his hair, working out the small tangles from sleep. "You always look handsome. Even sweaty and sick. Though, I wouldn’t recommend doing this often,” he chuckled, fingernails scraping Kon’s scalp in a relaxing way. He cracked open his eyes. “M'tired. Stay?” He asked. Any other time, he would hate how vulnerable he sounded. But this was Tim. They felt safe enough around each other to be vulnerable, and trusted each other enough to not hide it. Tim nodded, still gripping one of Kon’s hands firmly.
"I’ll be here when you wake up. Then we’ll get you cleaned up and get something light to eat,“ he promised, and Kon let his eyes close and his mind drift, knowing he wouldn’t wake up alone.