I’ve been seeing a lot of these posts with the same damn products on all of them and I really feel like we’re recycling the same shit and there’s nothing new to read anymore which is part of the reason I made this account, to add my own remedies and routines in hope that it could help someone else~
African black soap-
Lemme tell you right now. Ditch whatever shit you’re using as a body wash RN and go cop some (RAW) African black soap. That shit is natural and is bursting with vitamin A and E. It helps with eczema too. I personally use Alaffia which also contains Shea butter and I use it everday. Love it and love my skin+it smells super fresh
Apple cider vinegar-
Add abt ¾ of a cup of ACV to your bath and let it work its magic. Its anti fungal and battles against body odor. It makes your hair shiny and is considered a skin detox bath, I personally experience softer skin. ALSO it resets your pH and fights again vaginal odor and yeast infections naturally too.
Jojoba oil is the oil that everyone thinks coconut oil is. It is a natural moisturizer for hair and skin and it works way better than coconut oil could ever hope to do!!
Let me tell u something. In a previous post I copied a message on of my followers sent me abt coconut oil being horrible for your hair because it breaks down proteins. It got a lot of positive and negative feed back, some saying I was trying to speak for them or leave out black hair, no that is not the case. I simply copied a message and released it for public knowledge cause im here to HELP YOU NOT HURT YOU! I’m sorry if I offended anyone~ but coconut oil, regardless of hair, is not the angelic product everyones made it out to be. STOP PUTTING THAT SHIT ON YOUR SKIN IT CLOGS PORES. I use it to oil pull, its a natural way to remove the toxins from your mouth and it also whitens your teeth. You put abt a teaspoon or less of coconut oil in your mouth and swish for a minute or 2. Love that shit my teeth are so white. But other than that I wouldnt put that shit on my hair or skin, unless you’re shaving your legs or sometin. Although I do put it on my pussy after I shave and idk what i’d do without it. But coconut oil is NOT for everything.
Sorry for the extremely long coconut oil excerpt lol this one’s short. Rose water can be used as a toner/makeup setter. It controls oil and hydrates your skin. It also has antioxidant and antibacterial properties. Its also good on dry/frizzy hair
Castor oil+Vitamin E oil-
Another 2 great oils. I’m lazy and didnt want to make another 2 oil sections lol but basically castor oil can be used on eyebrows/eyelashes to thicken them. Its also a natural laxative. Vitamin E oil is a great hair/skin moisturizer and heals scars.
If you arent taking biotin everyday I want you to go to your local pharmacy and cop a bottle because beauty starts from the inside. Its a hair skin nail vitamin and boosts healthy growth of hair/nails and keeps skin healthy. I do love it.
Instead of using a typical bar of soap, invest in a charcoal one instead. Charcoal contains a powder called Binchōtan which cleanses and moisturizes skin. For all u natural bitches out there.
Also a lil side note~ for anyone who wants to comment to mine or any other ‘hoe tip’ posts saying “these are life tip not hoe tips” SHUT UP! We know! But these tips were originally for tips and products to be as sexy and well maintained as they can be. Usually before somekind of sex appointment. Let the hoes have this instead of trying to shame it
So I had to stay after school today because we had color guard sectionals and after that I had this academic award ceremony thing. Anyway I was sitting in the lobby area after school had ended and the teachers and principles were going into the auditorium to set up for the awards and the vice principle didn’t see my because I was sitting against a wall and he just yelled “I HATE SCHOOL” then scurried away so the moral of this story is even our teachers think school is bullshit
I’m am all for bisexual and pansexual representation and I really think it’s something that needs to be happening more. However I really like Simon never identifying his sexuality in Carry On. I personally relate to Simon a lot and I really have no clue what my sexual orientation is. I pretty bad for a while because I wanted to have that label to identify with but I couldn’t find one that ever felt right. Simon not identifying with any sexual orientation made me feel a lot better because it made me really see that it’s okay to not identify with anything. You can just be attracted to anyone you happen to be attracted to. So it makes me a little upset when I see people calling Simon bisexual or anything else because he canonically doesn’t identify as anything. However, those are just my opinions and thoughts and personally I really like Rainbow’s choice to not have Simon identify as anything.
I’m fucking crying bc of the anti ks tag I swear y'all are so extra like, bruh. I can’t even kill a fly I won’t fucking kill anyone just because I read this. I’m not gonna shame anyone but I have read things that made me think of taking my eyes out and putting them back on just to confirm that I read that with my own two eyes but anyway.
Yes, we do like the plot bc have you even read the two first chapters before saying anything? Dude that shit makes you think of who a person can truly be and makes you wanna know what happens next after a really fucking crazy ass moment that ends with a cliff hanger, like what the fuck happened to bum or what is going to do with that girl and things like that. And the art? I’m majoring in arts (especifically music and theatre but I have art classes too so I know what the fuckity fuck I am talking about for once in my life) and it’s amazing, so no, we’re not psychopaths with a fetish or something like that.
Another topic that leaves me on the ground rolling for air is the yoonbum x sangwoo topic. The fuck is wrong with those people that say that if you ship those two you are a horrible person and that you should kill yourself?? And wait, hold on a second, you said to someone to kill themselves over a ship that it’s fictional, who the fuck here is the real psychopath now huh?? Anyway, what I was saying, yoonbum and sangwoo both are fucking fictional characters that doesn’t exist in real life and are not going to fucking murder or stalk you in any way and of course not a single person in there is suffering for real (except me every time I read it I swear to god). I personally don’t ship them bc I like Sangwoo x jail and Yoonbum x therapist but that doesn’t mean that I should F U C K I N G DISR ES P E CT SO ME O N E’S O P I NI ON AB O U T IT FO R F U C KIN G FR EE. If someone ships them it’s alright. If someone doesn’t it’s alright too and if you don’t fucking like Killing Stalking don’t make an anti blog, block the tag, don’t comment negative things on someone’s blog about it and go on with your fabulous and sweet fantastic life.
I don’t care if you think it’s horrible and a taboo topic just go on with your life and stop being immature and a hater. Tumblr really needs to fucking chill a lil bit.
so I just heard about the Hindu "mythology" book coming soon hopefully on your blog, I'm excited as not only Indian but also Hindu, but it also scares me because I worry that people are going to take them the same way they take the Greek mythology, something that does not exist to most of the world (if not all of it) and then think that dressing up in a Sari is the same as dressing up in a toga, which really scares me as someone who was forced to leave their home and family in India 1/2
Stuff, like wearing Saris and getting Henna done by my grandmother for special events, is almost like the only bits of my culture I can fully celebrate in a country like America and for other (white) people to think it’s okay to replicate it takes away anything that reminds me of my heritage 2/2
Hi anon, thank you so much for saying this! I understand, I’m very excited for the books, but… well…
The thing about Greek Mythology (and Roman, Egyptian, and Norse) is that no one believes in it anymore. But Hinduism is a prominent religion, the oldest polytheistic religion that still exists today. And so if people decide to cosplay the Indian characters with saris, and henna, things that most Hindu people wear on special occasions, it won’t be the same as when they cosplay with togas.
Hopefully people can realise that this is a delicate thing, and I hope that the author makes sure that Hinduism isn’t romanticised or seen as a ‘fake’ and ‘fictional’ religion. I totally understand you, anon, and I wish as well as you do that people won’t replicate parts of the culture.
(sorry this got so long! But this is a very important subject…)
Warnings: None!! This is a continuation of another short piece of writing that you can find here
Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker
Genre: Angst but also finally some fluff
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: HOLY CRAP GUYS!! I’m so blown away by your reactions to the first part, it’s absolutely nuts. Your kind words and feedback are appreciated, I hope this lives up to your expectations 💕
It had been two days since your fight with Peter and you were still really messed up about it. It was a Sunday afternoon and you had refused to get out of your bed since you had gotten in it over 48 hours ago. You had no motivation to do anything, only getting up to use the bathroom when you really needed to or to stock up on snacks. You slept a lot, trying to avoid the feeling of guilt that rotted away in the bottom of your stomach. Your only other super close friend Michelle was blowing up your phone with texts even though you really weren’t in the mood. You told her so, and she decided that she needed to come over (against your wishes).
“This is the most pathetic thing I’ve seen in my whole life.” Michelle’s voice woke you up from yet another nap, and you opened your eyes to find her standing over you.
“Yeah, this is the most pathetic I’ve felt in my whole life so I guess it’s fitting,” you mumbled.
“Seriously, are you this bummed out about a tiny fight with Peter?” she asked. “What did you even argue about anyway?” You groaned at the memories replaying in your head.
“I don’t even know what really happened,” you said, running your hands through your hair. “I was just so mad and I took it all out on him. Not only that, I also got super jealous.” Michelle listened to your words carefully and you could see the gears turning in her mind.
“Who is it that you were jealous of?” she questioned.
“Oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you complained. “It was Liz Allan, the senior. Peter’s been hanging out with her a lot lately and he ditched me to go to her stupid party. Man, what does he see in her anyway? Other than the fact that she’s pretty, smart, and just about everything I’m not… Not that it matters, I just miss him since he’s, you know, a busy guy.” The two of you were silent for a moment. You hadn’t really meant to say all of that, but Michelle had a way of getting you to open up to her. She stared at you for a long time and you raised your eyebrows at her, puzzled by her strange look.
“Y/N, you totally love Peter,” she declared. You started to argue, but she cut you off. “You like him so much and you’re jealous of Liz because you think he likes her! This isn’t because you were mad, this is because you won’t admit you have feelings for him! I called it!"
"MJ, that’s crazy…” you said. “He’s just a friend."
"A friend that you love,” she corrected. You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything. She was right. Of course she was right, she always was. Thinking about Peter with Liz made you feel like a wave had washed over you, suffocating you in a mix of insufferable envy and sadness. Every time he said her name your stomach dropped, similar to how it did during roller coaster rides or when you drove over big hills. You knew you needed to fix things with him, he was way too important to you and you couldn’t let things stay the way they were. Michelle left, spewing out kind words of support and advice as she went. You finally stood up, ready to face your problems.
Tracking Peter down was hard. You didn’t want to text him because you weren’t sure he was going to answer. Even if he did, would he really want to see you? You tried his apartment but his aunt was the only one home. May usually loved seeing you, but today she seemed a little off. You didn’t blame her, Peter probably had told her what happened and her opinion of you must have changed. You decided to try one other place, the spot where you and Peter had spent most of your time together.
The rooftop was a little chilly and your ears stung a bit in the wind, but you barely noticed since you were so preoccupied with finding Peter. Sure enough, there he was, sitting with his legs dangling off the ledge. He was in the Spider-Man suit but the mask was off, discarded behind him on the cement. You took a deep breath and approached him quietly. He must have heard you, probably from his super senses, because he turned his head to face you. He looked just as awful as you did, if not worse. His hair was a mess and he had deep purple circles beneath his eyes. His skin was blotchy and it seemed as if he had cried recently.
“Hi,” you said, willing your voice not to crack. You fidgeted with your hands, unsure of how to begin.
“Hi,” Peter echoed, his tone lacking all of its usual enthusiasm. He swung his legs back over the ledge and stood up.
“I… I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” you started. “I was totally out of line, I should never have said any of those things to you-"
"Yeah, no kidding,” Peter said. He furrowed his brows, looking at the ground. “Look, I want to accept your apology and for everything to be cool…"
"Great!” you said, relieved. It felt as if a boulder had been lifted off of your shoulders that you didn’t realize you had been carrying.
“I want to,” he continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “But I don’t know if I can. It’s just… Well, it’s complicated.”
“So tell me how I can fix it,” you begged. If you had any tears left you would have been crying, but you had already shed them all. You were completely empty and the only thing you could do was stand there like a statue.
“Y/N, you said some pretty bad things,” Peter reminded you. As if you had forgotten. “Honestly, it was bad enough for you to take swings at me, but Liz? What did she ever do to you? I just don’t get it.” And so it began. You couldn’t stop yourself, the words started tumbling out of your mouth before you could contain them.
“I don’t like her,” you blurted, your hands falling to your sides. “I don’t like you hanging out with her, I don’t like you talking about her, and I really don’t like you choosing her over me. It makes me feel like garbage. All you do is pine over her and the worst part is that you don’t even realize that it upsets me!” Peter’s mouth was a thin line, his eyes darkening. You felt a surge of dread flow through you. Not again, this wasn’t supposed to happen again.
“Has it occurred to you that I can have other friends?” he asked loudly, his voice making your legs shake from under you. Panic seized you, the terrifying thought of having a repeat of what had already happened filling your brain.
“That’s the problem!” you croaked, your voice betraying you. “She’s not just a friend! You were willing to beat me up over her. Peter, you pinned me against a wall! It’s not like you were taking down a criminal, you were arguing with me. Do you have any idea how scared I was?”
“I didn’t mean to,” he said quietly after a moment. “You know that. I’m not used to being so mad at someone I’m close to. I forgot what was happening for a minute, I forgot it was a different fight…” He looked away, sniffing as he tried to hide his face. You got a short glimpse of it and it was enough to know that he was crying. Abandoning all of your lingering anger, you walked over to pick up the mask he had left behind. You held it in your fingers, moving your thumb over the soft fabric absentmindedly.
“Peter,” you said suddenly. “I’m not mad about Liz. I wasn’t mad to begin with. You were right, I’m jealous of her. I’m so insanely jealous and it made me say such horrible things to you. I’m so sorry, I know that doesn’t change what happened…” Peter rubbed his eyes, finally meeting you gaze.
“But why would you be jealous of her?” he asked. You took a deep breath and took a cautious step forward.
“I like you,” you finally admitted. “Actually, I more than like you. The way you feel about her, that’s how I feel about you. It’s awful, really. Everything you do makes my heart soar and it’s so hard because I can’t do anything about it!” He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head. You just wanted to get this off your chest before you chickened out.
“The truth is, I love you Peter. I always have and I always will. You can date Liz, I don’t care. Just… Just please don’t hate me anymore. I can’t live with it.” Peter stared at you for a moment, his mouth open and his eyes wide.
“I-I never hated you,” he said finally. “And I don’t want to date Liz. You’re 0 for 2, want to keep trying?” You were caught totally off guard, especially by how light and joking his tone and gotten once again.
“But I thought-” you started but stopped as he held out his hand for you to hold. You hesitantly reached out to him and he gripped it gently, lacing his fingers between yours.
“You’re ridiculous, crazy, and have no clue how to deal with your temper,” he said with a small smile. “Why would I ever want to date anyone other than you?”
Okay so I said I would give you good prompts and I W I L L but rn i just felt tired and i remembered smth I really wanted to read being abused!lance. Ik its a sensible subject for some people and i dont mean to offend anyone, but just the fact that lance had always said he loved his big family combined w an abusive person in his life?? Idk. Idk. I just rlly like the ''the team found out!!!,,!,!" tropes. Im sorry
I do know this is a very sensitive topic to some people, and warnings apply. But I will present you with a abused lance and the team (sort of) finding out, mostly space dad tho.
I always thought any unskilled character looked awesome when they did fight clubs to provide money for themselves or their families. So Lance being a badass in the ring would be awesome.
tw: blood (a fair bit)
tw: self harm
tw: medical junk
VERY, VERY ANGSTY!!!
Fight’s, Knives, Blood
For his entire life, Lance had protected his family. Working with his older siblings to formulate plans. Caring for is younger ones, filling in the roles that his parents would be / should be doing.
But why is he doing his parents jobs? Because his mother had been deported back to Cuba and his father was a drunk, the worst kind.
Always living on the brink of poverty only with the intervention of the payrolls of his siblings and secretly himself. Everyone in the house had a strict schedule.
Lance’s was; Wake up at six in the morning, make breakfast, make sure his siblings eat, eat the leftovers (if there were leftovers), school, walk home, homework, “sleep”, make sure everyones asleep, go to the ever changing location of the fight club, win, money, walk home (usually injured), care, sleep for three hours then repeat. The schedule usually interrupted when their father would come home and beat one of them while the older ones would be at work.
Like that all day, everyday. To be honest, Lance thinks he would be the best homeschooled doctor of all time, every night he sat in the bathroom stitching his own wounds, positioning bones and “coping” for himself with the scalpel in the kit. The amount of library stolen medical books hidden in the bathroom could give you enough study as med school. His older sister always wanted to go to med school.
Then there was the plan. Only a few hundred away from the objective point to go to Seattle and away from the burden of their lives. Long story short. That never happened. I mean, look where he is now. Stuck in space.
Their father found out about the money. Found when they were at school and he was suppose to be out doing his thing. He stole thousands of dollars hidden in draws, closets and under beds, most likely using them on alcohol and drugs, remaining with a measly few hundred. They were back at square one.
Then, Lance wished he did something. Punch him, hit him…kill him. He was so, so angry. So ready to kick his father’s balls right up to his throat and watch him choke on them. But he didn’t.
If Fight Club Lance was there, sure. But Poor, Broken Lance was there instead, using his body as a human shield, protecting his baby siblings.
That night he only got a few scraps, bruises, cracked rib and a broken arm. Nothing new. Easy to fix.
A few months later his eldest sister reached eighteen, they celebrated. Who wouldn’t, she could finally take care of them.
But it was also a time when everything went to hell.
Shortly after three in the morning, after fight club time with a rare minimal injury, he crawled through their apartment’s window to his father. A psychotic father.
He watched the kitchen knife in his hand drip red and onto the bloody heap in front of him. His little sister.
Lance felt rage he had never experienced before. it was almost consuming, ready to control his mind and his actions. Then all of his senses seemed to turn off and on. His raging heartbeat the only thing constant in his ears.
He remembers rolling behind the kitchen table and grabbing the small knife from the butcher’s block. Then the feeling of a psycho’s eyes baring into his skull.
It blurred. In the midsts of rage and powerlessness he remembered rolling on the ground with a bloodied knife dripping on his face and being shoved into cabinets and walls. That moment was the start of the nightmares years later.
Lance can’t detail it but he killed his father by shoving the knife right into his heart and pulled it out, watching his father bleed out beside him. Hearing him whisper his last words;
“Y-you w-worth-l-less piece of shit”
Afterwards the Police found them. Apparently his little sister called 911 before he actually got a hold of her, one last deed.
He remembered handcuffs cupping around his wrists and dragged away from his sister’s dead body. Himself fighting them, pleading them not to take him away from her before sedatives were pricked into his neck.
The court was nice, sort of. He wasn’t guilty, it was in self-defence and killing him wasn’t apart of the plan. They let him go and let him live with his oldest sister, like all of them were.
When someone said if he felt guilty, he did the common answer? Yes. But it wasn’t that simple. He did lie, in truth he didn’t feel anything, he didn’t cry, he felt numb. It killed him inside to understand if it was normal or not. He didn’t find an answer. Then he went home, his new home.
it was anticlimactic to say the lease. They were distant from him, even going as far to not touch him. They seemed happy around him, but Lance saw through them, they were petrified. They were scared if he would kill them. It made him panic.
He let those emotions ooze out along with the blood from the incision from his good, old scalpel. He knew it was a short term relief, the mental books said so, but it felt so good.
With all this happening it was a miracle he was accepted into the Garrison into he first place, they celebrated. Lance knew deep down that they were celebrating his leave. it filled him emotion he couldn’t understand but it hurt, so much. He spent forty minutes in the bathroom that night, cleaning the blood he dropped on the floor, none of his siblings came to get him, they claimed it was his party.
He wasn’t going to loose those emotions any other way, he did it at home, Garrison and he would continue to do it in space.
“Lance. Can I talk to you?” Shiro asked in the common room, Lance looked at him inquisitively from his chill position on the couch with Hunk.
“Sure” Lance said unsurely and got off Hunk to walk beside him. Like when any parent tells them the words ‘Can I talk to you’ they go back the weeks and months to see if anything was wrong, nothing was wrong that Lance could recall, unless he hadn’t been performing as well in training. Sure he was holding back, maybe he was holding too much back.
Shiro directed him to the Bridge. Lance felt his heart race, were they kicking him off the team? Lance kept his breathing steady and calm, he learnt to do that the hard way in the club.
Before long Shiro told him to stop. In the middle of the Bridge?
“Lance,” Shiro started as he turned to him, Lance was already on edge, ready to bolt, it was Shiro’s ‘uh oh’ tone. “I’ve been worried these pass few weeks.” oh, he hadn’t been expecting this. “You haven’t…been you lately” He’s never been himself, not since childhood, not since teenage years, “And as team leader, I’m worried that your going to hurt himself” Lance gripped his waist, tight. His fingers feeling the familiar feeling of cuts.
Shiro cleared his throat, feeling as uncomfortable as he felt. “I’ve noticed things that didn’t seem normal… too you” Lance slyly, harshly scratched the cuts from under the jacket “So I’m just asking if your okay”
Lance smiled, as real as he could get it, “Of course I’m okay, I’m cool as ice” It seemed to work as Shiro laughed softly.
“Oh, good. I was just scared that you’ll do a Keith and get hurt, you don’t have Keith’s inhuman luck of not getting hurt during those stunts.” Lance laughed with him.
“Nah, I’m good” Lance finished, praying that this conversation would finish soon.
“That’s good, I was worr- Is that blood?” Lance followed Shiro’s focus on his torso. Shit.
Shit. Fuck. Shit.
He completely reopened the five fresh cut’s he did last night and his completely drenched the bottom corner of his shirt, in the blue and the white cotton, straight into Shiro’s line of sight, it was gushing out quick and fast. Shit. Fucking. Fuck. Shit.
Before he realise what happened, Shiro grabbed his left arm and pulled down the sleeve.
Revealing old and fresh cuts and scars, and the diagonal scar from his father with the knife that one night.
Shiro was frozen shock and Lance took the opportunity to rip it out if his grip and bolt out of the Bridge.
Lance stared at the red swirling down the sink. Crimson against white.
Lance felt as numb as he felt when he stuck that knife into his father, minus his rapid heart feeling like it was going to jump out of his chest.
Shiro knew. He knew what he has been doing for the past few years. Lance wanted to dig a hole and die.
He watched as the blood covered cloth was drained in the sink and replaced on his hip, mixing with hip blood and brand new cuts on his wrist.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
He should have known. Should have known that. Now everything is crumbling.
“Lance!” Shiro. Shiro was outside his door, he can’t get in can he. He locked both the bedroom door and conjoining bathroom locks. Shiro didn’t sound angry or disappointed, almost worried.
Lance stayed silent, hoping that he would leave.
That didn’t happen.
He heard the sizzling and sparking of the panel outside of his room and heard Shiro walk in. Of course, he has a fucking Galra arm.
“Lance?” Shiro knocked on the door. He knows he’s here.
“Lance I know you’re in there. I can hear the water running” Lance whipped his head to the running water of the sink. Fuck. This hasn’t been his day today at all.
“Go away” Lance managed to croak out, he felt the heaviness of his chest tenfold and the lump in his throat appear.
Then the sizzling of the panel. No.
Shiro’s form appeared in the doorway. Lance dropped the cloth in the sink and took steps back as Shiro stepped forward.
“Lance I think we need to talk” Shiro raised his arms like he was trying to tame a rabid dog, which is actually a really good description of himself.
“No, we don’t” he croaked, feeling himself push against the back wall of the small bathroom, like if he pushed hard enough he would knock down the wall and he could run again. “We have nothing to talk about!”
“You and I know you do. Look at yourself Lance! I’m your leader and I’m letting you hurt yourself under my watch.” Lance felt the all too familiar rage bubble in his gut.
“I’ve been doing this much longer than you’ve been supervising me!” he snapped, as he slid down the wall when Shiro came a little closer, like a child.
Shiro looked defeated, “Had you doing this at Garrison?” he asked as he crouched to his level. “Before Garrison?”
Lance felt tears slowly well in his eyes. Lance growled he wanted to suck those tears back into their duct and cement them shut. He’s not going to cry, not in front of his leader.
“Way before garrison” Lance rasped, he was so tired. He put his arms around his knees.
“Why? Do you have Depression. Were you medicated?” Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder, lifting it off when Lance flinched. Hard.
“No” Lance felt the first tear fall, then the next, and then the next. Shiro put both of his hands on Lance’s upper arms. In the first time in Lance’s life, he felt grounded with Shiro near.
Lance fell into Shiro’s unintentional embrace. Or pounced really. Shiro held him tight. Lance’s first hug in forever.
“Why?” Shiro muttered into his ear as Shiro sat against the shower door.
“I can’t” Lance hiccuped into his shoulder, rapidly shaking his head against it, Lance’s hair brushing against his cheek, “You’ll hate me”
“Whatever you have to say, I won’t hate you, none of us will” Shiro said, his voice strong and confident. Lance almost laughed, a wet, sorry laugh. Might as well get going with his world grumbling ceremony.
“I killed my father” Lance felt Shiro tense, the hand in his hair stopping before continuing. Definitely didn’t expect that.
“I’m sure you didn’t kill your father, Lance” Shiro heard Lance scoff.
“I stuck a knife into his chest”
Shiro felt his view of this boy crumble. He didn’t know him at all. None of them did.
“Why did you stick a knife into his chest Lance?”
He felt Lance’s shaky breath on his vest, “I killed my sister… my baby sister”
Shiro really, really didn’t know this boy at all. Not his true personality, background, nothing. Shiro immediately regretted everything. Shiro’s next question’s were answered next.
“My father was a fucking alcoholic and druggie,” The hate in those words were so strong he didn’t bother correcting Lance’s language. “He abused us every chance he got, we were on the very line of poverty, not without the multiple jobs my older siblings took” Lance cried. “I came home from work to find him standing in front of my sister. He had a fucking knife, Shiro, stained in her blood then he tried to attack me and I killed him” Shiro nodded as Lance cried harder.
“What job did you have?” Shiro asked, a question away from death and murder. Then he felt Lance tense, and any hope for a proper job washed away.
Oh god, was it odd jobs,…
prostitution, he felt his heart speed up in worry.
“…Fight club…they paid a lot,” Shiro breathed, but that still wasn’t good. “Sure I came home with broken bones, they didn’t know. I treated myself”
Shiro unconsciously held him tighter and the action had Lance crying harder.
Lance had a shit father. Lance’s ‘Space Dad’ nickname now held more meaning.
He would be the father Lance never had. He would protect him.
Lance laid in Shiro’s embrace. Now he felt the most protected he’s ever felt.
“Because you fought for money, would you beat Keith?” Shiro said in the crook of Lance’s neck. Lance sounded a wet laugh,”I’ll beat his ass”
Shiro chuckled along with him. He shifted, feeling the tight grip Lance had on his vest, he unconsciously held him even tighter.
He would always protected him.
He’ll be the dad Lance never had.
This has to be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. I almost made myself cry a few times.
Sorry, it was kinda rushed.
Holy fuck, this was depressing. I’m so sorry.
Keith ran down the hallway, the drops of blood stopped ages ago, and he needs to find Lance and Shiro.
Keith spotted Lance’s room up ahead, it was open. Lance never leaves his room open.
He ran into the room with no one in it, the bed was made, small knick knacks stationed around the room, it’s a whole lot homier than his room thats for sure and then he search the bathroom.
His eyes spotted the two figures on the floor first, then the bloodied materials from on the bench, cloths, water (or what he hopefully thinks is water) and a scalpel.
Then he noticed the form of Lance, shirtless and covered in cuts. Self harm cuts, lots of them and the stab scars here and there.
Keith looked into Shiro’s eyes, they pleaded not to make a sound, not the question it. His ears picked up the rest of the crew coming up behind them. The multiple gasps sounding behind him.
Then Hunk and Pidge dashed forward and joined in on the hug.
God knows that Lance needed this more than he let on.
Keith hesitantly joined too.
BOOM finished the weekly angst.
Open for more prompts.
P.S I currently have the next parts to Son of Wonder Woman and Twin Souls complete and just needing to be tweaked.
Gay: Takes years to build up, have strong emotional bonds, spend years as friends first, subtle flirting that het audiences dismiss as “bromance”, are ridiculously compatible, so. much. sexual. tension. rely on each other for everything, are each other’s entire worlds, the most pure and true love and most don’t even get to kiss for like 5 seasons/ never.
Straight: sees another straight person. they fuck. now they’re dating.
EDIT: sadly this post was taken in a way I didn’t mean for it to be, As a queer woman myself I would never want to stereotype any group of people but especially queer couples. The main point of this post was about queerbaiting and the unfortunate amount of work it takes to get queer couples accepted in popular films, shows, and books compared to straight couples who can just be thrown together and accepted automatically. If you read the tags you would have seen that I was mostly referring to queerbaiting in pop culture media and also that I was high on anxiety meds when I wrote it. I apologise if anyone got the impression that I was assuming things about queer couple in real life. I was not.
I would also like to mention that I am well aware that there are many shows, movies, and books that have well represented queer characters and I am so happy that they exist and will love them forever and am not purposefully ignoring those, I was just attempting to point out that it is really stupid that in 2017 popular media still has trouble representing queer characters and refuse to let them be in the front and center. Of course there are some that are exceptions such as the OSCAR winning movie The Imitation Game, and Carol, and DC’s Legends of tomorrow, and OITNB. But it’s still not well represented and thats all I was trying to say. I’m sorry to anyone I offended
1) first half….not bad. could do without the tone that “listen guys,” sets. could do without the “anyone who may have been offended by it” because that’s classic soft way of saying “im sorry you found offense” rather than “im sorry i offended” but WHATEVER. it could’ve lived on its own and been okay.
2) second half….boy, who are you trying to kid? you’re either dumb and white as hell, or shady and white as hell, and neither are a good look. the pun literally does not work unless you take into account the current, american, political context behind taking a knee. “back when taking a knee actually meant taking a knee” means the meme is commenting on present day in comparison to the past. and what other context does taking a knee have right now than the protests? that’s where the comedy is, for people who find this kind of thing humorous—the cognitive dissonance between what taking a knee has come to mean and the literal act of taking a knee violently in the kerrigan case.
the fans who were protesting the meme were not doing it because they’re stupid or because they don’t “get” the joke. they just saw, rightly, that it was a bad, ill-timed, and reductive one.
i’m sad, man. i knew in my heart none of these marvel bros hands’ were clean but i let his silence fool me into complacence. and now i’m just…this is not the kind of defensive, will-do-anything-for-laughs kind of attitude i want to support, and certainly not someone who i want to contribute more money to directly through cons or whatnot. that really, super disappoints me, but i’m just really completely like “wtf????” at how shitty that meme was and how ineffective/disinterested in learning his apology was after.
smh. and for all fans who say “be nice to him,” and “he did nothing wrong,” i’d say please eat my entire ass but there’s already too much shit coming out your mouth.
things that i love about rick and morty: they both stutter, and it’s normal and no one gives them shit about it. i stutter out of anxiety rather than a speech impediment but it still sucks to see how people react to it.