when we have money

When your child says “Why can’t I get a puppy?”

Instead of defaulting to “My house, my rules”

Try “Any pet is a lot of responsibility. A puppy would have to be fed, walked, and taken outside to use the bathroom several times a day and taken for regular check-ups and vaccinations at the vet. You can’t do all of that by yourself, and I/we don’t have the time or money either.”

When your teenager says “Why can’t I come home at 2:00 this Saturday?”

Instead of defaulting to “My house, my rules!”

Try “The time you come home is a matter of respect and consideration. I/We will not only be concerned for your safety, but we would either be disturbed in the middle of the night when you arrive or forced to stay up for several extra hours waiting.”

When your child says “Why am I not allowed to do this thing?”

Instead of defaulting to “My house, my rules!”

Try actually communicating a legitimate reason, because children pick up on subtlety and on context and on the unspoken messages, and it’s better to teach children lessons like “You should think really hard before taking on new responsibilities” and “It’s important to show consideration for the needs of the people with whom you share a living space” than lessons like “It’s okay for people to demand your absolute obedience so long as you’re dependent on them for survival.”

Please read.

And I thought my life couldn’t get any worse. More trauma. My mother was arrested and she’s the only person I have (the only person who does not abuse me). I’m old enough to live by myself but I’m only 17 and extremely mentally ill and cannot go into work unless it is sex work, which will deteriorate my health further. She did not do anything wrong, she has a morphine pump for broken disks in her back and she was charged with a DUI. I know it’s not a “big deal” but this week I’ve been admitted to a psychiatric hospital, my moms been arrested, I’ve been assaulted. If you could reblog this and please donate I would be grateful. I have no medicine, which is my cymbalta, humalog, klonopin, and lamictal. I am a type one diabetic and I will die without it. I need to try to get money for SOMETHING. ANYTHING. I cannot live like this and I don’t know when she’ll be getting out, and when she does we will have No. Money.
My PayPal is

Eva: Weird week on Paradise*

Chris: Agreed. Can’t understand shit

Vilde: Should we have a litle brainstorming session on concepts*? We have to have a cover name* ready before the summer, so we can make sweaters and stuff this fall

Sana: We can’t drop a cover name before november. Everything else is nerdy

Vilde: Yes, totally agree. We aren’t going to be nerdy

Sana: I suggest we come up with a plan for how we’re going to proceed soon. We have to find a place where the bus can be when we take it over.

Noora: For the last time: We don’t have money. We’re 5 people. Good luck, Olafiaklinikken

Vilde: Noora, when you think “We don’t have 300 000, we don’t have 300 000″, you’re calling for the universe to make it true. The law of attraction manifests what you think. That’s why you have to think “I want that bus, I want that bus”

Noora: ok…. First of all, I don’t repeat myself in my thoughts

Chris: Does that mean if I think “I want to party, I want to party”, then I’ll suddenly be at a party?

Chris: That would be awesome

Vilde: Even if you don’t believe it, it exists around you all the time.

Chris: Insha’allah

Noora: Insha’allah that this whole arrangement is over by this fall

(*Reality show
*Concept for their russ crew and bus
*Cover name for their crew/bus/concept. E.g. The Penetrators was The Riot Club’s cover name)

Vulnerable Senate Democrats see fundraising surge ahead of tough midterms
Most of the Senate's 10 Democratic incumbents seeking re-election in states won by President Trump last year saw their fundraising climb significantly, ahead of the 2018 midterm elections.

I had a lot of feelings this week. This is what came out of them.

Spoilers for Episode 85 ahoy.


When Percy opens the door to the inn room, he sees Vex standing in front of a long mirror. Her hair is loose, cascading over her shoulders and back in long waves, and she’s wielding a brush as fiercely as she might wield her bow, yanking on a knot near her ear. When she notices him, she doesn’t look up. “We have enough money to each have our own rooms, you know.”

After the last couple of days, he doesn’t take it personally. “I’m sorry, is this Vex I’m speaking with?” he says mildly. “Maybe our rakshasa friend came back early and replaced her.”

“Fuck you,” she replies, but her heart is clearly not in it.

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you on my mind again

I walked home from work tonight. Thought of you. Every dog was barking, all having a conversation I was not invited to, probably because if I was I would only talk about you, and they’re sick of it.

My sister hates you, and when I say hate I mean she would kill you given the opportunity. She’s not alone you say when I tell you this, and I say it’s the one thing her and I have in common, and you laugh, and I stare. I can’t say what you being happy does to me. I feel the sun within me like I swallowed it, all of me warm.

Lily here’s the thing: we need a better apartment! you call from the shower, which occasionally turns off for no reason and won’t go on again until the toilet is flushed. James, here’s the thing: we need more money! I call back. Being poor is a lot more romantic in the films. In reality it is having an oven that takes thirty minutes to turn off and curling into one another during winter, fingers purple.

I don’t mind being poor with you. And when I say I don’t mind I mean I obviously mind but not as much when you are with me. I don’t mind a lot of things when you are with me: flat tire, missed flight, my mother only speaking to me when my father is asleep.

That time we had no electricity that week because we had to pay our rates. Us, in the dark, holding candles you stole from Remus, playing cards for hours but only Go Fish because it was the only game you knew. After work when you got home at three and we ate crackers and made up episodes of Friends to entertain ourselves. Joey and Chandler run away to Atlantis. Phoebe transforms into an armadillo and desperately tries to gain admission into a zoo. Rachel gets arrested for stalking Queen Elizabeth. Ross dies in a house fire. They all forget to go to his funeral. And us: rolling on the floor, our laughter the only thing.

There are still things I dislike about you. You won’t take buses because you think they’re dirty. When we fight and you laugh at me. Leaving all the kitchen cabinets open so I bump into them. That I tell you about why my father hates me but you won’t tell me why yours does.

(I think it’s because of me. I often forget that you should be a lawyer right now, instead of in an apartment with me and an oven that takes thirty minutes to turn off.)

Often we talk about what our lives will be like later. When we have money. When we have time. You will buy a giant couch so Sirius will stop bitching about how uncomfortable the floor is when he’s over. I want to get a cat and name it ‘milk’ or ‘bumblebee’ or some other ridiculous thing, and when I say this you stare and then kiss me senseless. I cannot believe you love me you say. All my breath deserts me. I cannot believe I wouldn’t.

You work late nights, and I work afternoons, so in the morning we eat cereal out of the box and sit in bed, talking about what kind of dogs we’d be. I’m a beagle. You want to be a German Shepherd but in reality you’re Scottish Terrier because you’re still a bit posh and also wear glasses. Scottish Terriers don’t wear glasses you say. Yes, but they look like they should I respond. You consider this, and then nod. You’re right you agree. I take a handful of cornflakes and am so fucking glad that you’re here.

I use your toothbrush sometimes when its dark and I can’t find mine, and this is something I will never tell you, primarily because you’d freak out about it. Another thing I can never say: you always buy too much popcorn at the movies for two people to eat. I also can’t say the entire reason I still have the purple sneakers from five years ago that no longer fit me is because they were the shoes I was wearing when you told me you first told me you loved me, and I did not look beautiful, so I knew you meant it.

In truth I could spend an infinite amount of hours talking about you, and the things we do when we’re alone

(including but not limited to: playing scrabble, trying to recreate that lift from Dirty Dancing, reading books without saying anything, arguing about how long the commercial is and whether it’s worth switching the channel, you kissing my neck, bumping into one another half asleep in the kitchen, arguing about who’s turn it is to do the dishes, laughing about our neighbours and how loud their sex is, discussing whether our sex is louder than the neighbours, trying to make our sex louder than the neighbours, burning our bills once we’ve paid them, getting drunk off cheap tequila and having a dance off, lying in bed carding my hands through your hair, having a staring contest over lunch, kissing each other on the mouth, kissing each other in other places.)

But I won’t. because other people (and dogs) find it boring when you talk about another person to much. I don’t mind. I have you. They don’t. I can’t imagine how awful that is.


Gotta tell you, one of my favorite parts of being married is being able to shut down idiots who say this to me with two words and a sardonic smile. Granted, I did that before, but “I’m married” carries more weight than “Not interested.” Which, I think, says something about the kind of guys who use this pickup line.

One day, maybe- when we have the money for the wedding it’ll happen. 

At work I have more problems with meddling moms and aunts. I took my ring off ONCE because my hands were swelling and this woman literally grabbed my hand to see if I had a ring because ‘you’re so nice and my nephew- he’s a sweet boy but he needs to meet a nice girl like you.’ One woman literally tried to set me up with one of the framers (the one who makes Nazi jokes) while looking at my ring and asking if it was a marriage band. 


Quit it. 

Eva: weird week on Paradise*

Chris: agreed. Don’t understand shit

Vilde: can we take a little doodle round (sketching) on concepts? We need the cover name ready atleast before Summer, so we can make sweaters and stuff during autumn

Sana: we’re not releasing any cover name before December. Everything else is nerdy

Vilde: yes completely agree. We don’t want to be nerds.

Sana: suggest we make a plan about progress now soon. We need to find a place for the bus when we get it

Noora: for the last time: we don’t have money. We are 5 people. Good luck, Olafiaklinikken.

Vilde: Noora, when you think “we don’t have 300 000, we don’t have 300 000” you’re calling on the universe so it becomes a truth. The law of action manifest what you think. Therefore you have to rather think “I want that bus, I want that bus”

Noora: ok….. firstly I don’t repeat myself in my thoughts

Chris: does that mean if I think “I want to party, I want to party” then suddenly I’m at a party?
That would’ve been awesome

Vilde: even if you don’t believe in it, it still exists around you at all times

Chris: inshallah*

Noora: inshallah that this arrangement is forgotten by autumn

*= Norwegian reality show
*= if god is willing // Arabic

Dream boat

Part 5:
“Shiro?” Lance asked his voice quivering.
Shiro looked around. There was no way out, between the things and the fire they were trapped.
The figures were slowly approaching, teasing them knowing there was no where to go.
“Shiro!” Lance tugged on his sleeve gaining the older mans attention.
Lance was pointing upwards and it took a moment before Shiro realised what he was doing.
“Lance your a genius!” Shiro waisted no time grabbing Lance putting the boy on his back. “Hold on tight.” He yelled as he powered up his prosthetic the purple glow lost in comparison to the orange flickering flames surrounding them.
He dug his glowing fingers into the bark and began to climb.
He didn’t look down just climbed higher and higher. Shiro didn’t know what they would do once they reached the top. Even if the things couldn’t climb the fire would get them.
Lance was coughing as the smoke became thicker and thicker.
They just had to get above the tree line.
“Hang on buddy, almost there.” Shiro said through gritted teeth as he pulled them up higher and higher his back screaming with the strain put on his wounds. From the wet feeling on his back the stitches likely popped.
By time they reached the top Shiro’s arms felt like jelly and his head felt light from blood loss.
Up this high the air was a little clearer and they couldn’t see the things beneath them.
But they could feel the heat radiating from below.
Shiro didn’t say it. But he knew there was no way out of this. He was fine with dying. He had lived much longer then he had ever expected, but it wasn’t just him. Lance was here. Lance was far too young to die, too young to have to be in a situation like this.
“Shiro what do we do now? How do we get out of here?” Lance asked trying to put on a brave face but was failing as tears fell down his cheeks.
Shiro pulled the boy into a hug “I don’t know… I’m so sorry I let you down.”
“It’s ok… Shiro your still my friend… are you my friend?” He asked hesitantly like he expected rejection.
Shiro smiled “yeah buddy Your my friend too.”
“Really?” Lance asked holding out his little finger.
“Yeah really.” Shiro linked his little finger with Lances smaller one.
Then the tree began to sway, seconds from falling. Shiro did the only thing he could. He grabbed Lance and held him close as they fell towards the ground far below hoping to take the blunt of the force.
Shiro didn’t feel the impact. He felt like instead of falling he was being dragged upwards into a blinding white light.
Shiro sat bolt upright in bed in the infirmary breathing heavily with his heart racing.
Allura and Corran were running around yelling something back and forth.
Shiro was confused for a moment before his eyes ended up on Lance lying on his side and coughing his lungs up.
Shiro jumped off the bed almost falling over in the process as he crossed the distance between them putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“Lance are you ok?” He asked.
The blue paladin looked up just as he made a gagging noise and black smoke began to pour out of his mouth.
“Shiro move!” Allura snapped all but shoving him out of the yay and she put a strange mask over Lance’s mouth that seemed to actually suck the smoke away.
As Shiro watched it all came back to him. The kid in his memories, how he acted, how he looked, that unbeatable optimism and need to help.
The boy he had met it had been Lance. His Lance.
The next few days were tough. Allura said that the spell had been expelled from his body but the strain it had caused left Lance with a high fever and bed ridden.
The entire team took shifts sitting with him trying to get his fever down.
By the end of the week everyone was exhausted but Lance’s fever had finally been broken.
Shiro sat by Lance’s bed. Since waking up he hadn’t had a chance to actually talk to Lance about what he had seen in his mind and now that Lance was at least sort of coherent he wasn’t sure how to bring it up.
Luckily he didn’t have to.
“I was six.”
“Hmmm?” Shiro hummed questioning.
“What you saw I’ve been having that nightmare since I was sick.”
Shiro pulled his chair closer to the bed helping Lance sit up, propped against a few pillows.
“We didn’t have much, we always needed money and when my mama found out she was pregnant again my dad… he got a loan from some not very nice people.” Lance swallowed “Mama lost the baby, and we lost Mama a few days later, used all the money on hospital bills. The men dad borrowed the money from still wanted it paying back.” Lance pulled his knees up against his chest. “We didn’t have anything… they wanted to take my sisters to work of the debt. My brother stepped up and worked fighting in this betting ring. But it wasn’t enough and they still wanted my sisters. So one night we were all going to run away. But the men came… Dad held them off while my siblings got away but I hid in the back room and I saw when they ….they.” Lances lip started to trembled.
Acting on instinct Shiro pulled him into a hug.
“I couldn’t get out. His body blocked the door. It wasn’t until the police came knocking almost a week later did I get out.”
Shiro ran his fingers through his hair making quiet shushing noises when Lance began to sob.
“Did you find your family?”
Lance nodded not looking up from where his face was buried in Shiro’s chest. “We all moved in with my mama’s parents in America.”
Shiro nodded “look Lance everything I said I really did mean it. Your amazing, having gone through something like that but still acting so happy all the time looking out for everyone.” Shiro pulled away cupping Lance’s face with his hands “your the best blue paladin we could ever hope for. I know I don’t say it enough, but you hold this team together. Thank you for that Lance.”
Lance began to cry again throwing his arms around Shiro’s neck “I didn’t realise just how badly I needed to hear that. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

YouTuber playing Life is Strange, talking about Chloe Price

“To have friends like that, better not have them”

I strongly disagree…

…and I’ll explain why.

As a person who has had a lot of different friends, I find in Chloe a friend who I always wanted to have.

Chloe is a person with a difficult character. She is angry because she lost her father and her girlfriend. She feels lonely and she always tries to blame someone else when something doesn’t work out for her (this means that she is proud but insecure). She has her rage on, we all know it and maybe some of you hate that about her (I can’t include myself because I’d be hypocrite as I have my rage on too).


She will do whatever needs to be done for a friend.

Can’t we all agree that’s the most important thing when we have a friend?

Chloe owed a lot of money to Frank because she wanted to go away with Rachel, just in case “she showed up”.

Chloe tried to get money from Nathan because she wanted to go away with Rachel, just in case “she showed up”.

Chloe wanted to sacrifice herself for the town she hated. Moreover, she would sacrifice herself for Max, for her friend. She actually dies trying to find Rachel. She blames herself for not saving Max in the Dark Room. 

Now we can say that Chloe is not a selfish person. First reason to want her as a friend.

She is crazy

I love crazy and careless people. I love people who just don’t give a fuck about other’s opinion. Because they are the BEST people ever. They won’t listen to gossip about you, they won’t care about your hair, your clothes, your shoes… 

I love crazy people because they want to have fun and enjoy their life. I always say that Chloe is my spirit animal because I’d love to be so careless. I’d be happier for sure. Maybe, if I had a friend like her I would be happier because she’d try to do crazy things with me.

Midnight swim? Why the fuck not? I’m in. 

She is kind

I won’t say anything about this. Just see:

She is brave

Not everyone would defend you like Chloe defends Max. That’s something to think about.

I would write more and more about why I’d love having a friend like Chloe. But I think this is enough.

Keep calm and save Chloe Price

I’m in desperate need of money, for no one in this house of 12 has a legitimate job. All money made will go towards food and water. 
My current goal it to try to make at least 300$, so 12 slots will be open. If you are interested, IM me or email me at fivedeadlywombats@gmail.com . [as yall can see, I don’t only do fantrolls]

Also, please signal boost this yall, I only have a measly 4 dollars to my name. No one in this home has any money and we have no idea when we’ll even be able to eat again. 

  1. @strawberriroyalty
  2. @chromaticmaelstrom
  3. @wueyahfantai
  4. @iskrowrioutha
  5. OPEN
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  12. OPEN

In a universe where we age backwards.
We are born at the bottom of graveyards.
Dust becomes bone
Bone become flesh.
As we enter the surface there is light.
Later we will learn that they call it the sun.
For now;
we are wrinkled skin and slow smiles.

We are assigned to younger adults who become our caretakers. Mother. Father. They teach our tongues the words of their people. We get better at remembering.
But no one recalls the life before this one.

We learn to walk without the cane; without the limp.

At school; the best teachers are children. They tell us of all the years they have lived.
Between classes we talk about what we want to be when we grow down.

At graduation, the grey fades and we find out our true hair colour for the first time; women begin to bleed; their breasts rise; our bodies become firmer; the wrinkles smoothen like pressed flowers.
We dance for the first time. And don’t feel tired.

My caretakers are teenagers now. They’re loud and hard to understand. The scientists say it’s something with their hormones. I find that my mother skips work and listens to sad songs; she spends more time looking in the mirror now. My father cries when no ones looking;
it’s hard for a man to become a boy.

When we go to find jobs the younger ones interview us. When we turn 13 we will have to retire.

I save money to put my caretakers into a children’s home when they get younger. Just like they did for their grandparents.

I was assigned my first elderly person. He’s 95 and confined to a wheelchair. He doesn’t have any hair yet but I know it’ll grow soon. Sometimes he grabs my wrist to look at the way our skin doesn’t match. When he gets younger I’ll tell him about race; he’s too old to understand such things. I name him Luke.

I fall in love with a younger man; a writer named Hercules. He says funny things like “Imagine a universe where we age backwards; where we start off babies and die when we grow old.”
I try; but it seems impossible; too farfetched.
At our wedding; Luke is the ring bearer.
(He walks down the aisle without his wheelchair and I can’t help but cry).

Hercules kisses my forehead every time we meet. Says he wants to savour the days when he stands taller than me.

My caretakers are babies now. And Hercules is a teenager. There’s something different about him; he says I’ll understand in a few years.

They say that my mother wouldn’t sleep the night my father passed on; that she wouldn’t stop crying for what seemed like no reason but I think that somehow she knew. He’d been asleep in his crib at the time; the passing often happens this way.

Hercules holds me tighter that night. He’s started having nightmares. I guess it’s harder for a writer. To know that one day he’ll forget how to say how he feels; how to read.
I wonder how babies manage it. To have all these thoughts and no way to express them.

I’m eighteen today and it’s full moon. Hercules takes me to the beach and insists we bathe entirely naked. Between the waves he tells the whole sky of stars that we’re rebels now; that becoming a teenager makes us free in ways I don’t yet understand. I think that he just wants to taste everything before he dies.
After sharing a bottle of wine on the sand with him and dancing to the sound of the ocean’s monologue…
I believe him.

Our love has changed. From candle to fireplace to forest fire. I want to touch him all the time. He likes writing poems on my skin; but says that even without them I’m the best book he’s ever read.

My breasts are shrinking. And my bleeding had stopped. Though no one really understands why it happens. Hercules says maybe it served a purpose in the life before. His voice is high pitched now; more like mine; a sign of maturity.

Being teenagers was hard but nothing prepared me for childhood. They say it is a lot like old age.
Luke put us in the nicest children’s home he could find. It’s full of interesting people who’ve retired like us. But the babysitters are always watching. We play games during the day but they force us to go to bed even if we don’t want to. Hercules and I have to sleep in separate rooms now.

Yesterday they caught Hercules trying to paint his hair grey again. He believes he can fight it somehow. He hates that he can’t stay focused long enough to finish books but he still brings me love letters; crooked hearts coloured with crayons. I stick them on the fridge and stoop so that he can kiss my forehead.

When the babysitter told me that Hercules had passed on… I learnt what it felt like to be crushed. Some days I’d feel the ghost of his lips against my forehead and feel so angry. I’d cry and scream and curse. They called it a tantrum.

I’m five years old now and I’m beginning to understand that the end looks so much like the beginning and that’s why they call it the circle of life.

—  In a universe where we age backwards // Ceres @mentamorphisis

so, we need to move asap because our living situation is not stable and that’s absolutely terrifying

we have a roommate we’re looking for a place with, but we don’t have money for a down payment and we’re $50 in the hole because of a very old paypal gift card that never got paid and they keep trying to take the money when we don’t have it

that said, al works at starbucks and is going to try to get help from the cup fund, but we are out of food stamps and he doesn’t get paid until NEXT friday, so if anyone wants to help us eat for a week, uh.

al’s cash tag is cash.me/$furrygarbage

i can offer card readings in exchange, if you’re interested!

al is offering doodles for any donations over $10

reblogs would be appreciated!

a local pizza place is having an open hiring event today, looking for servers, cooks, and delivery drivers. u just show up and bring a resume and have an on the spot interview and i’m going! it’s 1-4p and i’m excited. i want to be a chef. i really liked working in the kitchen at the cafeteria and tbh i think i’m way better suited to that sort of work than say office/phone stuff. i’m no good with people but i’m great with an oven. anyway wish me luck!

i put Mr. in front of my name at the top of my resume so *hopefully* that’ll get the ‘pls dont call me ma’am’ out of the way. i mean they’ll need my license to hire me so it’ll be a conversation at some point so i don’t look forward to that part, and i may need to give them my deadname so they can verify my work experience. i really really hope nothing bad happens. the owners are 3 guys from michigan and they’re big sports fans so? idk what to expect. i really hope they’re cool bc all i want is to get paid to make pizza. 


I was the only person up front this morning and got a call from a customer who wanted to return a dress.
“Well, I was there right at closing and had a large purchase but when I got home I realized that my cashier never gave me the receipt! And I need to return this dress which cost me sixty dollars but doesn’t fit my daughter.”
So I tell her “if you don’t have the receipt we can’t give you money back, per our policy, but we can give you store credit.”
“But I paid with my card.”
“Without the receipt we cannot put it back on your card and the return would have to go back as store credit. We don’t keep any payment information and cannot look up returns. I’m sorry that this has happened, but this is store policy.”
“How many times do I have to say that I don’t have my receipt! This is outrageous! Why should I be punished for your mistake! I want to speak with your manager, this is unacceptable! I want you to go through your trash and find my receipt because if I don’t have it, you do!”
Ok, lady.
So I transferred her over and did not go through the trash because hell no. Also, they get emptied into a huge bin at the end of the night, so it would have been pointless. I figured that she would just scream at the manager and we would end up doing the return anyways.
The manager later told me that (over the course of a long phone call) it was determined that the customer wasn’t even at our store last night (because she was the closing manager) and had actually bought the dress several days ago. She only said that bit to make us feel bad for the alleged mistake and give her the money back on her card, which we can’t do anyways. All of that overreacting and lying just to try and make us look bad so we give her money back, when she could have just gotten store credit. Needless to say, she kept the dress.
Just hold on to your damn receipts, people. And don’t tell dumb lies for dumb reasons.

what good is money really when we have the ability to be sustainable and provide all with sustainable luxuries, if everyones needs are being met, and luxury no longer exists as a concept what purpose would monetary compensation serve? 

We as a society can move past this petty bullshit, we can move past needing payment to do what we love. Perhaps if people weren’t so dependent on making a living by trying to accrue capital, they could instead be focused on bettering the world around themselves.

People would stop doing jobs they hate, people would be allowed to research what they like, people would be allowed to work at their own leisure, we already have the means to accomplish most of these goals, the only thing stopping us is this illusion that capitalism is sustainable and the best possible situation for us all economically and politically.

We already can automate the vast majority of things, we can allow more people to research and develop sustainable forms of technology and transportation, etc.,

what use is money if all have equal access to all. are some of you so afraid to be equal to those you deem less worthy that you’d rather suffer under the stain capitalists far more wealthy put you through, than live a life of what is today considered luxury with all around you?

Why live like this when we can all live lives currently only allotted to the wealthy. It doesn’t have to be that way. Yes of course we have to phase some things out like oil, and other goods that we can’t recreate, but that doesn’t mean we can’t live good lives and continue improving all of our lives. 

Stop clinging to the concept of compensation; bettering yourself and the lives of others should be compensation enough. What more do you need if you have access to all there is available? 

A promise of hope

✖ Characters/relationships: Credence Barebone x Reader

✖ Genres: Abuse, hurt Credence, angst, platonic fluff

✖ Summary: You are Credence’s friend and you can’t help but hate Mary Lou for beating him. [Based on this imagine] @Anonymous

✖ Disclaimer: All characters are at least 21 y/o unless stated otherwise.

✖ Word count: 2049

A/N: I feel really emotional about this one. Credence is an amazing character and I definitely belong to his defense squad. By writing this one I made myself sad. Really really sad.

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