damaged love damaged

I’m moving on; as I miss you less and less each day. I soon realized my home was always within myself. For I will always be complete despite the damage you left me. So I guess this tragic goodbye taught me how to love myself more. Like the way I chose to be better, even if I’m on my own this time around.
—   Notes After A Breakup // Conee Berdera

I watched the musical (again) last night and the ending just really fucked me up. In the musical Veronica still loved JD but she can’t because of what they did. In the movie she’s really mad and wants him gone. When JD dies in the movie it’s probably because he feels like nobody loves him anymore and he’s better of dead while in the musical JD trades his life for Veronicas’ and she doesn’t want him to die. That made me really sad. And i’m sad that i’ll probably never see the musical with the original cast on stage.

Pretty Girl doesn’t talk about much. Pretty Girl doesn’t
think she’s ‘pretty’. Pretty Girl has scars on her body he
says he doesn’t understand why they’re there. Pretty Girl
hears from Pretty Boy, ‘you shouldn’t do this, you’re so
beautiful, you’re so full of light, you’re such an incredible
thing.’ Pretty Girl says to Pretty Boy, ‘sweetheart, I am the
embodiment of a shooting. You will be a victim, you will
break, and I will be the culprit every time.’ Pretty Boy tells
the Pretty Girl he doesn’t see why she’s so fearful of her
own body. Pretty Girl replies, ‘dear, you’ve no idea the
damage I’ve dealt to this vessel that has pulled me away
from everyone around me;
I am not safe.
I am not safe.
I am not safe.’
Pretty Boy sighs. Pretty Boy caresses his fingers over my
thigh. Pretty Boy sees my reaction and holds me tighter.
‘You’re okay.
You’re okay.
You’re okay.’
Honey, do you understand that this Pretty Girl doesn’t
know the meaning of feeling whole? She never has.
Pretty Boy likes Pretty Girl, supposedly.
Pretty Girl likes Pretty Boy, definitely.
There is no solid ground here. Not yet. Everything is
quicksand, and I am
sinking,
sinking,
sinking into this Pretty Boy.
There is no branch for me to grab hold to and escape
this kind of pull. There is no safe word, no warning that
things won’t be as they have always been;
good, great, okay, and then nothing.
Pretty Girl cannot do this again.
But she will let herself anyway.
—  PRETTY BOY vs. PRETTY GIRL // Haley Hendrick

ro-lal

4

There’s nothing childish about caring.

anonymous asked:

Ik it isn't bitter sunday but like what if tony had a daughter and team free loader tries to go back to the compound and she gives them a piece of her mind ft. Pepper,Rhodey, & Peter

Her name is Vic because of course Tony names his daughter Victory. She is almost as tall as Tony–she’ll get there one day, of that she’s sure–has her father’s curly, brown hair and her mother’s grey eyes–and, as her mother likes to joke sometimes, both of their worst qualities. She’s petty and sharp-tongued and never quite knows when to quit, and she adores Tony almost as much as Tony adores her.

Only Pepper, Rhodey and Peter are smart enough to be terrified of her.


The first time Pepper realises the extend of the Wrath Of Vic™ she’s leading the redeemed Avengers into their old compound. It’s still official SI property and since Tony refused to be here Pepper has decided to handle the team herself. She’s got plans.

Plans she never gets the chance to enact. Because when they arrive at the compound, Pepper is as surprised as everyone else to discover that they aren’t alone. And that every wall–every wall in the entire building, how did she even do that–is painted in the most galling, eye-paining shade of orange she has ever had the misfortune to see.

She doesn’t let any of her surprise show of course. Pepper hasn’t worked for Tony for years for nothing. Besides the returning “heroes” expressions are very gratifying indeed.

The orange isn’t the only new decoration either. In every place where there used to be the trademark Avengers sign, there is now Traitors written in poisonous green letters on the walls. The floors have been covered in a very cheap, very ugly carpet with a lot of suspicious spots Pepper decides she doesn’t want to investigate. The kitchen is filled with food.

Weeks old food.

Pepper is starting to suspect that Vic has been preparing for this ever since the Congress finally decided to take up negotiations on the Accords again.

(She is wrong. Vic has been preparing for this day since she spent seven endless hours in an impersonal hospital waiting room, awaiting the news of her father’s fate.)

The furniture in the personal rooms is mostly still there, if now covered in spray-painted graffitis. Mostly there seem to be a lot of penises and middle-fingers from what Pepper can make out. It’s so pointlessly childish she has to hide her face behind a file for a moment to hide a stubborn smile.

Dirty footprints, drops of paint, greasy hand prints on the windows, dust…the place is a mess.

Pepper is so busy pretending not to bask in Steve Roger’s horrified disbelief, she almost misses the girl sitting cross-legged in the middle of the common room–on the only spot of clean floor available–typing away on a laptop.

“Oh, you’re here,” she comments, shuts her laptop.

Rogers frowns. “Who are you?” he asks distractedly, apparently still in too much shock by the state of his home.

Vic blinks, once, twice, then smiles with all her teeth. “My name is Victory Stark. You may remember meeting my father, Anthony Stark.”

The announcement is met by stunned silence.

“I didn’t–didn’t know Tony had a daughter,” Steve manages to get out eventually.

Impossibly, Vic’s grin widens. 

“Don’t worry,” she says as she gets to her feet, shoulders her bag, “You’re unlikely to forget any time soon.”

And with that she pirouettes on her heels, kicking an open can of Red Bull until it falls over and spills on the ground where she sat just a moment ago, and strides out of the room, humming I’m sexy and I know it as she does so.

[”How did you do it? You’d have to have been painting day and night to do this much damage in such a short time!” Pepper asks curiously a few hours later.

“Would’ve been some well-spent weeks.” Vic shrugs unapologetically. “Wasn’t necessary though. I just asked on craigslist if any Iron Man fans felt the need to make their feelings known to the dear Captain.”

“And proprietary damage is what you came up with?”

“Oh, no.” Vic’s smile is unholy. “That’s just the start. I got together with some girls from my school to brainstorm. Honestly, how more people aren’t deathly afraid of cheerleaders I’ll never know.”

…Pepper knows better than to ask.]