cry-reads

How to write a Nero x Dante fanfic:

  • Have Nero and Kyrie set up in a romantic relationship whether they are still boyfriend and girlfriend or they are about to get married.
  • Have the towns people still hate Nero even after he saved their ungrateful asses.
  • Is curious or misses Dante.
  • Tells Kyrie he’ll only be gone for a few days.
  • Nero arrives at Devil May Cry
  • Dante and Nero argue but Dante lets him move in
  • They do missions together
  • Dante and Nero fight
  • Dante and Nero start to have gay feelings
  • not gay self arguments
  •  Dante gets drunker than an alcoholic with possible liver damage
  • Nero and Dante do the thing
  • wake up next morning from the thing and argue
  • Nero goes back to Kyrie
  • Dante tries to forget about Nero
  • not gay thoughts again
  • gay thoughts confirmed 
  • Dante goes to find Nero
  • He and Kyrie have split up Nero most likely living in cheap motel possibly drinks a lot
  • INTERVENTION
  • We’re gay, bro
  • Continue to write 16 chapters of hot action and lemons 

Some days I ask myself if its even worth living life as a girl. Life is hard for everyone, yes. But for me its unbearable. I will never stop reliving a moment of my life where I had everything taken away from me. My compassion for this world, my love for others, my happiness, my dignity but what I wish I had back the most, is my purity. I had fun back then. I wanted to get married and have kids. I loved my dad, and my uncles and my grandpa. I loved them. I loved life, and everything about it. It was so bright and beautiful, full of mysteries and secrets.
I go out in the world today, and I go home every single time wishing I didnt. I hear them, laughing and pointing. I see them in the back of my head, taking pictures. I see them point and stare. And when I look in a guy’s eyes, I come face to face with satan. Every single time.
I want to throw up because I constantly have to deal with older men scanning my body, mentally taking a picture for their pleasure for the night. I see them plotting, and searching for a way to feast on their next meal. I go in public and feel like a piece of meat.
I dont see those bright colors anymore, in fact ive learned to not love the men in my family anymore. I realized that never in my life do I want to marry or have kids. In fact I dont want to live past now. I dont want to go out in public anymore, or go to school. I dont want to post instagram pictures anymore, I dont want to go to college or parties ever again. I dont want to have fun. Im scared. Im scared of it all because the truth of this world is vile and unbearable.
People call me sexist, and stuck up. But in reality, ive seen the lowest of the low and I continue to see it everyday of my life. All I learned to be is scared. To sleep with one eye open, no matter if the door is locked or not. Ive learned I cant go on buses or parks without a back up. I cant walk to my friends house at night. I cant go to the beach, or the mall without wanting to leave. They say slavery was a shocking past era. But its real, its so real and it lives on to this day. Its unbearable. After you’ve been treated like you’re not a human being? Your whole world changes. The only thing you can remember about this world is the things that they did to you.
I wish I could love males the way I used to love them as my brothers of Christ. But I guess my brain learned that im nothing more then an object. A toy. A display. The way ive been treated is “socially acceptable” and thats why I cant live on like this.

anonymous asked:

there is literally no way u are a real person!! this must be a social experiment or something omg. just when my mind processed the fact ur 16 and an incredible artist i find out u make amazing music. is there aything u CANT do wtf (btw merry christmas if u celebrate that!!)

I CAN’T ANSWER MESSAGES ON TIME HAHAHA

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So this happened today.

Wasn’t expecting this to happen ever again.

I am beyond honored.

things that have happened to carl grimes

  • believed that his dad was dead
  • watched dead people come back to life and eat people he knew and cared about
  • lost his best friend, only to see her as a walker and then saw her get shot in the head 
  • lives with the knowledge everyone he used to know, all of his old friends, are dead
  • lost someone who was almost like a father figure to him and then had to shoot his re-animated corpse
  • blames himself for the death of dale
  • watched his mother die and then shot her in the head so that she wouldn’t come back
  • received no support after this bc his father went batshit crazy
  • shoots countless walkers and people in self defense, but imagine the psychological damage this would have on a kid
  • believed that his baby sister had been eaten by walkers
  • watched countless people he was close to and cared about die in front of him
  • had to care for his father while he was sick after the prison
  • was almost raped and watched his attackers beat up his father
  • got trapped by a community of fuckin cannibals 
  • never asked for help through any of this because he knew he was expected to act mature and strong 

what carl grimes says after all of this

  • everybody can’t be bad
  • we’re strong enough that we can still help people

even after everything that he’s been through so doNT U DARE TELL ME THIS CHILD IS NOT AN ANGEL

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Cry Reads: We Don’t Talk About Sarah by Reddit user: Bellemaus

Honestly this one is really fucking good. 

I always wanted a little sister. I would beg my parents, “Please? Pleeeeaasssee?” and they’d roll their eyes and tell me that it wasn’t as simple as I thought. That didn’t stop me from talking about it every chance I got though.

When they brought Sarah home, it was the happiest day of my life. She was so cute! I couldn’t wait to share my toys with her. I started going through them, deciding which ones were hers and which ones were mine. I borrowed my daddy’s label maker and started putting our names on each thing so we wouldn’t get them confused.

She cried a lot at first. I’d ask my parents why she cried so much and they told me it was natural. They said when she got used to us and our house she would calm down and not cry all the time. Sometimes though, she’d cry so loud that Daddy would have to take her into the basement where it was sound-proof so the neighbors wouldn’t complain.

She slept in Mommy and Daddy’s bed for the first month. Sometimes I’d try to join them but they’d always lock their door. Mommy said their bed wasn’t big enough for all of us to sleep in. I was patient. I knew the new bed with the bars that they’d set up in my room would eventually be hers.

When they felt it was safe to let her sleep on her own, they started putting her in it. She wasn’t crying so much anymore by then, and I would lie in my bed and watch her sleep from across the room. They’d take her into their bedroom first and lay with her until she fell asleep, then move her to our room. Some nights after she was moved, I’d see her lying there with her eyes open, just staring at the ceiling, so I’d go over and give her toys through the bars. A lot of the time she’d just throw the toy and then start crying and I’d have to hide under my covers before Daddy came in to deal with her.

Eventually, they started letting Sarah sit with me in the playroom. I was told that I wasn’t allowed to give her anything too small or sharp that she could hurt herself with. I was soooo happy! I would sit behind her and brush her hair and tell her she was the best little sister in the world. I showed her which toys were hers and which were mine, but she didn’t seem to care. Sometimes we’d sit on the windowseat and she’d bang on the window while I drew on it with special crayons.

School started back up at Sugar Creek Elementary, and I went but Sarah had to stay home. Mommy said she wasn’t ready for school yet. I’d come home and tell Sarah all the stuff I’d learned. I drew pictures of us playing together. When I showed them to Daddy he’d tell me thank you and take them to keep in his office.

Then came the really bad day. I’ll never forget it. I came home from school and Mommy was just sitting at the table smoking. She looked real sad. I went to play with Sarah but couldn’t find her. When I went to ask Mommy where she was, she started crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said that Sarah was gone. I didn’t understand totally, but I started crying too and told her “We need to find her!” She just shook her head and said she was gone somewhere we couldn’t go.

Daddy took her bed apart. He threw away all my drawings with her in them. He took my nametags off all the toys. Sometimes I’d find one he’d missed and it’d make me cry. I started collecting them and hiding them, but he found where I hid them one day by accident and got really mad. We weren’t allowed to talk about her. It was like she never existed. I didn’t think it was fair. I told Mommy that Daddy was mean to make us not talk about Sarah, but she said it was better that way and I would understand when I was older.

I saw Sarah again.

It was just one time, but I’ll never forget it. I was with Mommy doing some errands. We went grocery shopping then went to a fabric store in Thorntown so Mommy could look at material to make some new curtains out of. She remembered that she had letters to mail, so we stopped at the post office to buy some stamps. I was humming to myself and reading posters while Mommy talked to the lady behind the counter and that’s when I saw Sarah. She was as cute as I remembered. I walked over and looked at the poster with her picture, but they’d gotten her name wrong. Somebody had written her name down as Shannon.

I rushed over to Mommy and tugged on her sleeve and told her that Sarah was up on the wall with the other pictures of children, but she got all flustered and apologized to the lady before dragging me out of the post office. I had to shout because she kept trying to talk over me instead of listening.

"I saw Sarah! They got her picture on the wall in there!"

Finally Mommy slapped me and told me it wasn’t Sarah and that it may have looked like Sarah but I was mistaken and if I didn’t stop I’d get in real trouble with Daddy when he got home. I cried and promised to be good, but even after I promised I wasn’t allowed to have dinner and had to sit in my room that night. I heard Mommy and Daddy talking in the kitchen and they got kinda loud. Somebody started banging open the kitchen drawers and then Daddy’s feet stomped up the stairs but I heard Mommy scream “Don’t you dare!” and he stopped outside my room then went back downstairs.

We never went back to that post office and I never saw Sarah again. This is the first time I’ve talked about Sarah since that day.

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gif meme » redvsboohoo asked: favorite familial relationship ever, of all time

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World’s Best School Psychologist by nosleep

Original Link

When I was twelve, I came to the conclusion that everyone in the world, including my own family, was against me. I was never a problemed child, but my parents sure treated me like one.

For example, I used to need to be home by 5:00pm every day. This clearly restricted my amount of “play time” outdoors. I wasn’t allowed to have friends over to play at the house, nor was I allowed to go over anyone else’s. I had to finish homework directly after I came home from school, no matter how long it took. My parents refused to buy me video games and forced me to read books and then write a book report on them to prove I actually read it!

Now, even though those rules listed above were quite frustrating to me as a child, they aren’t what upset me most. What really hurt me was the lack of compassion on behalf of my parents. My mother was a bitter woman who always made me feel guilty of accidents or mistakes I’ve made. My father only knew one emotion: frustration. The only time he spoke to me was when he screamed at me for receiving poor test scores or beat me for misbehaving.

But enough about them, let’s talk about my school’s psychologist. For his own privacy, we will call him Dr. Tanner. Like most junior high schools, a psychologist is always available on campus during school hours to assist any students in need of counseling whether it is emotional, academic, social, behavioral, etc.

To be honest, I have never seen any students talking with Dr. Tanner. Every day, I would walk past his office on my way the cafeteria and peek through his door’s little window. He would always be alone in there, working on some paperwork.

I guessed that most kids were too afraid to speak about their problems to an adult who was practically a stranger. For this reason, it took me three weeks to muster enough courage to go into his office. March 2nd, 1993, was the day I decided to voice my troubles to Dr. Tanner. During lunch break, I stood in front of his office door and knocked.

Through the window, I could see him raise his head, smile, and motion for me to come in. I did.

He greeted me by introducing himself and asking for my name. Dr. Tanner was a very soft spoken man who seemed to radiate kindness. In less than thirty minutes, I rambled to Dr. Tanner about how mean my parents were to me and how they didn’t care about me at all. After a while, my voice began to quaver and I stopped speaking. The psychologist listened patiently to my whole spiel, arms folded and head nodding. I half expected him to begin talking about how everything I had just said was untrue and that my parents loved me dearly and blah blah blah. But he didn’t.

Dr. Tanner leaned towards me with a grin on his face and said “You know… I’m the best school psychologist in the world. I promise we will fix this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, but how?” I asked.

“I have my ways!” he replied. “I’m a man of my word. I promise that within just one month, the relationship between you and your parents will change for the better. Forever.”

After a brief pause, he continued; “Although, I do need you to make me a promise.”

“You have to promise me that you’ll come back to my office after school tomorrow and that you won’t tell anyonethat we had this conversation today. It’ll be our little secret.”

I promised.


The following day, I returned to Dr. Tanner after school. It was around 4:00pm when I entered his office. After a warm welcome, he asked me to have a seat in front of his desk once again.

Upon sitting down, I watched Dr. Tanner close the blinds of the door’s tiny window. “There,” he smiled, “now we have all the privacy we need!”

We began to talk about my likes and interests, my favorite subjects in school, my least favorite teachers, and things of the like. About an hour into the conversation, Dr. Tanner offered me a soft drink.

I gladly took the offer, considering my parents never allowed me to drink soda. Dr. Tanner reached over to his mini-fridge and fidgeted around before setting down two open cans of soda on the desk.

Afterwards, we continued to talk about what was going on in my life but it wasn’t long before I passed out from whatever drugs Dr. Tanner placed in my drink.


It took me a minute or so to adjust my blurred vision upon waking…

… And when it did, I had no idea what to think.

I was handcuffed to a bed and my mouth was sealed with duct tape. I immediately began to panic- squirming and tugging at the cuffs- but gave up soon after.

My eyes widened in disbelief after looking around the room. There were posters of superheroes pinned up along the walls and photographs of famous athletes on shelves. In the middle of the room was an old television and Super Nintendo, various game cartridges stacked alongside it.

I didn’t know what to think. Here I am in a room filled with items most kids would die to play with. I would have probably cried from joy hadn’t I been handcuffed to a bed frame.

My stomach sank once again as the door opened and Dr. Tanner walked inside. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Now listen,” he said, “remember that I’m here to help you and I would never hurt you, okay?” Dr. Tanner gently removed the tape from my mouth and then the cuffs from my hands.

My first instinct was to begin crying but something about Dr. Tanner made me feel safe. He smiled at me. “You’re going to be staying here for a while,” he continued, “and during this time, you’re allowed to play with any toys in this room while I’m here at home.”

“But when I leave the house, I’ll need to cuff one of your hands back to the bed. You can still watch the television, but I want you to only watch the news channels when I’m away.”

I sat in silence, still trying to process the information he had given me.

“So!” Dr. Tanner yipped, slapping me on the knee. “You go ahead and knock yourself out; I’ll be back when it’s time for dinner.”

He got up from the bed, walked across the room and clicked the TV’s power button before locking the door behind him.

Several more minutes passed before I realized that Dr. Tanner wasn’t joking. All that was left for me to do was boot up the Nintendo and play Mario until nightfall.

At about 7:00pm, Dr. Tanner returned to the room carrying two plates of mashed potatoes and chicken strips. I finally gathered up the courage to ask him how long I’d be staying in this room. “Well, about a month,” he replied, “give or take a few weeks. I just have some work I need to do.”


The following morning, I awoke to Dr. Tanner’s hand patting my head. “Hey bud, you don’t have to wake up right now if you don’t want, but I am going to need to put this back on,” he whispered, clamping the cold steel handcuff onto my wrist.

I gazed up at him. He was wearing a collared shirt and slacks, a coat draped over his shoulder and a suitcase at his side. He looked just how he always did when I saw him around school. Before leaving he placed the TV’s remote next to me and told me to turn it on and watch the news.

The first thing I saw upon turning it on was a “breaking news” segment. An important looking police officer stood at a podium surrounded by people with microphones. I happened to begin viewing half way through his speech.

“A statewide Amber Alert has been issued as of this morning. We have several investigators working towards identifying potential abductors, but as of right now there is not much evidence. Faculty members state that the boy had been last seen around four or five in the evening on-“

I began to feel nauseous as a photograph of me appeared on the screen. It was my yearbook picture from last year. Captions for the photograph displayed my name and age, my school, and my town. Above my picture were alternating titles: FBI BEGINS SEARCH FOR CHILD and KIDNAPPING SUSPECT UNKNOWN and POTENTIAL RUNAWAY.

The live footage continued and two figures I soon recognized as my mom and dad stepped up to the podium. Both appeared to have reddened eyes. Tears streamed down my mother’s face as she took hold of a microphone.

I’d never seen so much emotion come from my mother before as she wept on live television, stuttering on sentences such as “please return my baby back to me” and “I’m so sorry” and “please come home to us”.

When my father took the microphone, I nearly expected his attitude to be stone cold, but he too had tears in his eyes. He pleaded to the world to bring his son home safely and lastly begged for my forgiveness! “I know I haven’t been the best father, but goddamn it do I wish I had been now. Please bring my boy back.”

I turned the power off shortly after. My emotions were mixed for I had never once seen my father cry.

I felt miserable that my parents were being put through so much, but at the same time I felt relief. I now know how much mom and dad love me.


Nearly four weeks have passed and Dr. Tanner has been treating me with the utmost respect. He leaves me in the morning cuffed to the bed frame, but returns in the afternoon to eat lunch and dinner with me, talk, and play games. I never would have guessed how good Dr. Tanner was at Monopoly and Scrabble.

But one morning when Dr. Tanner woke me before heading off to work, I noticed a stern look on his face. I also realized that it was three hours earlier than when he usually wakes me.

“You need to watch the news today. No exceptions. I want you to keep the television on all day and pay close attention to it,” he stated grimly.

I, of course, complied and watched him exit the room.

About two hours later, a breaking news segment interrupted the toothpaste commercial I was watching. The title:

HUMAN REMNANTS FOUND

Two staunch looking men in suits stood aside one another and began speaking:

“We are displeased to bring up such unfortunate news this morning regarding our missing child case from earlier this month.”

One of the men bowed his head while the one speaking shuffled through some papers. He continued:

“Remains of a body have been found in a garbage bag beneath a highway overpass. The body appears to be that of a child, although not much of it is left. The body has been decapitated and much has been burnt to ash and bone.”

The screen shifted over to a helicopter view of the freeway, dozens of police cars gathered near the bottom of a tall overpass. The man’s voice could still be heard:

“Within the bag police found a junior high school identification card labeled as such.”

The screen showed the school ID card I always kept in my backpack. The plastic was sort of melted away, but my photograph and name were intact.

After the two men dismissed themselves, the camera panned over to my parents. They were sitting among reporters; my mother’s face held a painful grimace and my father sulked his head down at his knees.

I shut the television off.


Dr. Tanner returned home very late. He hurried into the room, unlocked my cuffs, and placed a bottle of fizzing water into my hand.

He placed his hands onto my shoulders and smiled.

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

I nodded, tears squeezing their way out my eyes.

“You need to make me a promise again,” he whispered.

He told me that I needed to drink all the water in the bottle- it would help me sleep- and that from here on, I am never to tell anyone that I ever met him. I promised.

“I told you I’m the best school psychologist in the world, didn’t I?”


And he was right.

I awoke later that night to find myself lying in the middle of a park, stars shining brilliantly across the night sky. I recognized the park; it wasn’t too far from my school.

A mile or so down the road, I saw my house. The lights were off inside, but I could make out my father sitting on the step leading to the front door.

I hesitantly called out to him. He lifted his head slowly, but when he saw it was me, he sprang to his feet, ran towards me arms open, yelling my name. My mother erupted from the house behind him.

Dr. Tanner was right. Things have changed with my family and I. My parents smile more often and treat me lovingly. I could not ask for a more perfect ending.

Every now and then, I see Dr. Tanner on campus- talking to and from his office. Rarely do we ever make eye contact, let alone speak to one another, but sometimes he’ll shoot me a wink and a smile.

I’ll always keep my promise to him and pretend I never met him, but there will always be one question forever floating in my mind: who did Dr. Tanner decapitate and throw off the overpass?