#“i dont think anyone understands me properly except him. i can say that for sure” OTL

[christakisbang]

"........~!" our bini doesn't need words to understand me! you know what i want to say, right?

#“i dont think anyone understands me properly except him. i can say that for sure” OTL #stray kids #bystay #staysource #bang chan #seo changbin #binchan #skz #my gifs #cbbc2023 #their most recent 2kr is one of the best btw like top 5 2krs ever its so so good theyre so good...they love eo sm #when bin thanks him for hanging in there and for protecting them and his message saying since hyung's our leader im reassured ough u can #tell chan was rlly touched hearing it and im so glad binchan have eo not 2 be emo but ive been giffing them for two hours now so like. yeah #d-9!

[lilacsbeeswax]

can i make a request for remus lupin where him and reader are dating but she doesnt know that hes a werewolf, and so she thinks hes cheating. she then asks the boys (sirius and james) and they dont tell her and so she’s properly convinced hes cheating, then the day before the full moon she confronts him and it causes a huge argument and then the next day (fullmoon) she goes for a midnight stroll to clear her head and remus attacks her. can u make the whole thing really angsty but fluffy and happy ending at the end? if u need any more info or anything just dm me! thank you!!

Cheater

-Remus Lupin x Reader-

-Angst-

MASTERLIST

(Thank you for the request 💕)

Over the 6 glorious months I’ve dated Remus Lupin we’ve had so many amazing times. Flowers, dates, promises, sweet nothings, everything anyone could ever ask for… Except for that one giant gaping hole in my understanding of my boyfriend, his disappearances.

Every month for a few days he just up and disappears. There is no other way to describe it. He doesn’t come to classes, he avoids me, and when I go to look for him his friends get all nervous and sweaty.

At first, I was just concerned, especially since he has issues with chronic pain and is always ill, that was until he began dodging all of my questions. He threw, “it’s nothing you have to worry about sweetheart”s and, “I promise everything’s alright, no worries” at me anytime I asked and quickly changed the subject.

Later, I started talking to my friends about it and I had to face the horrible truth that Remus must be cheating on me. It all added up the distance, the avoidance, and the obvious guilt that he held over the matter. But, before you can destroy and wasp nest you have to make sure the wasps are dead and gone.

——-

I sat in the Gryffindor common room awaiting the infamous Marauders’ loud arrival. I fidgeted with a quill someone had left on the side table. God, was I nervous. I had to calculate the perfect time and day to ambush the boys. A day were Remus wasn’t trailing close behind them.

My thinking was abruptly stopped as Sirius and James burst into the common room laughing about some prank they inevitably pulled on some poor first year. I uncrossed my legs slowly when I saw at least James had seen me and took a step toward them, trying my hardest to keep me composure.

“Why hello there boys.” I greeted, my voice slightly wavering.

“Hey beautiful,” Sirius replied as he swaggered over and plopped himself into one of the old crimson chairs. “What’s up?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong love?” James said, following Sirius’ lead and sitting on the loveseat. He propped his legs up on the coffee table and patted the seat next to him prompting me to sit down.

I hesitated for a moment before responding: “It’s about Remus. I have some… worries and I need for you to be totally honest. I know he’s your friend but…” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.

“What do you mean?” James asked, he moved his feet off the table and leaned in closer ready to listen. Sirius was almost scowling as he blinked at me.

“Don’t tell him, but I think he’s-“ I cleared my throat, “cheating on me.”

James sat there shell shocked as Sirius blurted out, “Cheating on you?! Remus? You’re having a laugh!”

James side-eyed him and grabbed one of my hands. He gently said, “Y/n, there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation that isn’t him cheating. Remus loves you so much, I don’t think he could cheat if he tried.”

“Please I can barely imagine him being able to get it up without you!” Sirius laughed.

“Sirius!” James scolded. “Not the time!”

“If he’s not cheating, then what is he doing?” I asked sternly, pulling my hands away from James. Sirius’ and James’ faces dropped.

“We- we can’t tell you that,” Sirius’ regular playful facade had fully disappeared as he stuttered. “It’s not our place.”

“It’s not your place?” I exclaimed, standing up. Heat flushed throughout my body and my stomach turned. “Why will no one tell me a single goddamn thing?”

“Y/n, just go talk to Remus, if he’s ready he’ll tell you.” James said, reaching a hand out to me. “Just calm down, it’s all okay I promise.”

“No. Absolutely not. You don’t think I’ve asked Remus a million times? Do you know how often I’ve had to hear ‘everything’s okay’ and ‘no need to worry’ with no fucking explanation? I’m over it. The lying, the sneaking around. And having such a sweet guy lie to my face just to cover up his infidelity! I’m done.”

“Just listen,” James began but I don’t let him finish.

“And if you tell Remus about any of this I will kick your asses. If this is happening I want it to be on own terms.” As I finished my speech, I stormed out of the common room and tears began to fall when the adrenaline ran dry.

——-

James and Sirius sat in that horrible silence to shock. Finally, Sirius broke it with a sigh, “What the fuck are we gonna do?”

James sullenly replied, “Well, there’s one thing we definitely can’t do and that’s tell Remus. He’s struggling enough as it is this full moon and tomorrow it’s gonna be worse. I guess we just have to pray that Y/n waits until it’s over to say anything.”

——-

It took a full night of crying and a few shots of fire whiskey from Marlene for me to go back to the anger stage and set up a plan. I was going to get into the boys’ dorm (by bribing Lily to steal James’ key) and confront Remus there. Setting up the plan was much easier than going through with it though.

I stood in front of dorm number 7 for a few five minutes passing the brass key between my hands, resting its weight in my palms. Today, was the day I was destroying the golden layer that had settled over our relationship and I was scared to death.

I slowly slotted the key in place and turned it gently. The click sound made my ears ring.

I opened the door to see Remus sleeping in his bed. He was horrifically pale and the bags under his eyes were more like extra large suitcases. ‘His mystery illness must be acting up again.’ I had thought. I almost felt bad for what I was about to do. Even in sleep he looked to be in pain. He looked almost like a corpse as I shook his shoulder attempting to wake him up. His head moved and his corpse like appearance was impossibly more evident.

“Remus?” I said, my voice echoed across the completely silent room. His eyes snapped open and he jumped like he had just been shot.

His voice was raspy and filled with sleep. “Hello darling, what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“The door.” I said, ignoring his first question. It was hard to stay angry when I was looking right at him. Remus was horrifyingly beautiful from his honey brown hair, his matching doe eyes, his long eyelashes, his high cheekbones, the list goes on.

“Whoa, are you alright?” He asked, reaching his hand out toward me. I ignored his offer and straightened my posture.

“No. I know that this probably isn’t the right time, but I through with this little game of yours Remus.”

“What game? Sit down darling, you look like you might faint.”

“You know perfectly well what I mean, Remus Lupin. You’re a dirty cheater and a liar. You’ve been playing me for half a year and been sleeping with other people. I’m done.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m cheating on you?” He looked angry, probably not expecting to be caught.

“Not suggesting, telling. I know that you’re cheating on me.”

“That’s absolutely ludicrous!” He exclaimed, sitting up in his bed with cough. “Where would you even get an idea like that?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little disappearances. The sneaking around, the lies, everything. I had trusted you so much, obviously that was a mistake.” I took a step toward him. My anger grew as I watched his face grow impossibly paler.

“My disappearances?” He whispered to himself. “Listen this is a big misunderstanding. I’m not cheating on you.”

“Then what do you do when you disappear at night? Why do you always dodge my questions? And why are you such a dick head about it?”

“I’m a…” he stuttered and paused, looking as though he was going to vomit, “I can’t- I can’t tell you, okay?”

“Why can’t you just fucking admit it?” I yelled, tears beginning to fall against my will. “Even if there is something else going on, it’s not helping you to not tell me! You promised to always be honest with me, now is the time, Lupin!”

“Why can’t you just take my answer? I can’t tell you or you’ll hate me more than you already do!” His voice gained volume as mine did.

“That’s looking pretty fucking impossible right now.” I screamed at him.

“So, that’s it? You make your bold assumptions and then just walk away?”

“I’m not the one walking away, you walked away a while ago. Who is it? Who has captivated you enough to do this to me?”

“No one! I haven’t cheated on you, no one could ever replace you! I love you!” He yelled as I began to walk to the door opening it slightly.

“I don’t believe that for one second because if you loved me, you would tell me the truth!” At this I slipped through the door, slamming it shut behind me.

——-

After the argument, time stopped to a screeching halt. By the time, I had felt even slightly decent enough to move out of my bed it had already been a full day. To clear my head, I decided to go on a midnight stroll.

The crisp autumn breeze stretched over me like a hug. It felt so nice to fill my lungs with its slight cold air. The crickets chirped playing a little song for the blanket of stars that stretched over the sky. You could always see so many stars at Hogwarts. They seemed brighter here than back at home. Remus had never liked the night sky, I never quite understood why.

I walked along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, not listening for any dangers I could come across. I could hear a wolf’s howl in the not so far distance but I paid it no mind. Either way, I had thought a wolf was the least of my troubles in the forest anyways.

I continued walking, not worried about anything until I heard a loud growl behind me. I whipped around to see a large shaggy brown wolf looking at me as if I was it’s next meal. I gulped down a scream and started to slowly back away. Screw me for never listening to my brother ramble about what he learned in Boy Scouts.

“Nice puppy.” I whispered, barely finding humor in what I said.

The wolf pounced at me knocking me onto the cold dirt. It scratched and bit at me as I tried to cover myself. ‘This is not how I die’ I repeated to myself over and over again. I could feel the warm blood dripping down my arm but I felt no pain. I saw nothing, I felt nothing, and all I heard was growls and scrambling before everything went black.

——-

“Is she gonna be okay, Madam Pomfrey?” A deep voice asked.

“Yes, I do believe so. She’ll be scarred, mentally and emotionally, but she’ll fine.” Responded Madam Pomfrey.

I groaned. My whole body felt like it was put through a meat grinder. I opened my eyes, almost surprised that I could see. “What happened?” I rasped, attempting to move.

“My god girl! Don’t try to move, you’ll just hurt yourself further.” Madam Pomfrey rushed over and put her hand on my forehead before rushing into her storeroom. “Just stay and heal.”

James stepped into my vision and stood next to the bed. He grabbed my hand and held it gently. “Hey love.”

I groaned, uncomfortable in my current predicament. “Hi James. Why are you here?”

“Why am I here? Are you serious Y/n? You almost died!” He exclaimed.

My eyes widened, “I did?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really. What happened?”

“This is gonna be a lot to swallow, but it’s necessary, for you to understand what happened.” James said.

He began going into a very long explanation about how Remus is a werewolf and they’re illegal animagus and Remus is the one who attacked me because werewolves will attack anyone they come across. Once he had finished I just sat there, totally and completely dumbfounded.

“Is this a prank?” I finally ask.

Madam Promfrey walks back in handing me a cup of some sort of green liquid. She responded for James. “I’m afraid not.”

“Oh my god.” I whispered. “I’m a horrible person.”

“No, you’re not Y/n. How were you to know?” James said.

“I yelled at him and accused him of awful things while he was going through… that.”

“You didn’t know, it’s not your fault.”

“Oh my god and Remus will kill himself over this. He’ll think this is all his fault. Where is he?” I panicked, desperately wanting to get out of bed and run to him.

“He’s asleep in our dorm recovering, Sirius is taking care of him, but he doesn’t know yet.”

“We can’t tell him. He’ll beat himself to a pulp over it. He was scared enough of telling me imagine…” I trailed off.

“There’s no way not to tell him, look at yourself. You’ll have scars for the rest of your life.”

I looked over myself and the magically healed cuts and scratches. Some were large enough to cause massive patches of scar tissue. One bigger than my hand on my thigh. They reminded me of Remus, not because he was the one who caused them but because they look identical to the ones that cover his entire body. “Can I be the one to tell him?” I asked.

“Absolutely, that’s kind of what Sirius and I were hoping for.”

“Not until you’re mostly healed.” Madam Pomfrey added from her desk. “Go back to sleep and when you wake up in the morning, I’ll let you go.”

James squeezed my hand before letting go. “You heard the woman. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See ya, James.” I mumbled as he left.

——-

“And one more step.” James said, arm wrapped firmly around my bandaged abdomen.

“You don’t have to hold me, James.” I said while limping slightly up the stair.

“Yeah, sure. You were out for two days and had major blood loss, but that was nothing!” He said sarcastically, bringing me to the door. The very one I had slammed, while accusing Remus of not loving me.

He opened it slowly to reveal Remus siting in a chair by the large window reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Remus looked so much more alive now than before. The paleness had subsided and his dark circles had almost completely disappeared. He looked up at us and his eyes widened.

“Y/n? What happened? Are you okay?” He exclaimed, practically jumping up from his chair and rushing to me. “Sit down.”

He and James guided me to sit on Sirius’ bed.

“Where’d Sirius run off to?” James asked.

“He wanted to get breakfast, but that doesn’t matter.” He rushed his sentence. Sitting on the bed opposite me and looking over me. “What happened?”

“I know Remus.”

“You know what?” He asked. James slid out the door quickly, barely being noticed by Remus or I.

I felt a strong rush of confidence. “That you’re a werewolf.”

He paled and blinked at me. “Where is this going?”

“I went on a midnight walk during the full moon. It was an accident, what happened.”

“I did this to you?” He stuttered. I reached over and placed a hand on his knee.

“You don’t have control over what happens during the full moon.”

“I hurt you.” It was a statement that seemed to rattle his very soul.

“I’m okay, Remus.”

“No, it’s not. I ruined our relationship purely because I was afraid of this and now look. You hate me and I’ve scarred you for life.”

“I could never ever hate you, Remus-“ he cut me off.

“Then, why did you say that when you left? ‘If you loved me, you’d tell me the truth’” Pain shot through me as he recounted my harsh words.

“You could’ve told me. I love you all the same. Werewolf or not.” I stated.

“Really?” He asked, dragging his gaze from the floor up to me. He looked like a scared puppy.

“Always.” I said, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

MASTERLIST

#marauders x reader #fluff #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #angst #lilacsasks

[paviastrashyrings]

can i request a horropedia x reader with the “rude to everyone but loving to their partner” trope? (reader is the rude one)🫶🏻 male reader if possible

More of the lovely Nerdy Nerd? How could i possibly say no. Thank you for your submission and it is absolutely my pleasure to serve you. (side note: could not be more on the nail for how i am irl)

Without further ado, dear readers, lets get into another dream with Horropedia.

You were...rough around the edges, so to speak. Uncaring and cold towards most people.

If someone touched you, you'd snap at them. If someone came at you with an attitude, you'd match it.

Everyone associated with you was used to your foul mouth and bad mood.

Except one person, of course.

He had never understood why everyone spoke so poorly of your behavior until he witnessed first hand how "grouchy" you were with others.

"Hes not so bad." he'd try to defend you, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile.

"Dude he literally insulted me to my face because I bumped into him." one coworker recalls, angered by the mere memory.

It wasnt like you were trying to be mean, people just dont have spatial awareness.

They were right there.

Nothing pushed them into you.

They didn't even trip.

They just were dumb and didn't look where they were going. That's on them.

He would listen to you recall your side of the story, your tone soft and even because it was him.

"We really gotta work on your...people skills." he hums, but in complete honesty he was impressed how you were so able to stand your ground.

One day, someone decided to really push their luck. Yapping about how annoying "that weirdo, horropedia or whatever that guys name is" was.

Safe to say you were pissed, and he was in their direct vicinity too.

once you noticed that he was RIGHT THERE being spoken ill about?

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" you spat with malice, turning around so fast people would assume you were facing them the whole time.

You went off of them, until Joshua stepped in, equally shocked but also mildly amused by the expression on the culprits face.

"woah hey, no need to get angry." There was full and ardent need to get angry, they just insulted him to his face and he was just gonna take that? hell no, not on your damn watch.

He turns around and politely apologizes to the culprit, "So sorry about that, hes trying to work on his temper.."

He guides you away, still secretly impressed by your anger. Nobody really ever defended him like that, especially in front of a whole establishment full of people.

"I mean seriously can you believe them? Talking shit about you like that in front of you?" you'd start almost as soon as the culprit was out of earshot, just to keep him happy. You wouldn't have cared if they had heard you, you already spat so much profanity in their direction anyways.

"You know it happens all the time, I'm not exactly a stranger to it." which you couldn't understand. How does he tolerate such blatant disrespect, I mean sure he's a little strange and nerdy but that doesn't hurt anyone.

"Yeah but you don't deserve that, you didn't even do anything." you'd murmur, looking away. You look like a scolded dog, which he thought was adorable.

What he didn't remark on was the clear difference in how you spoke to others and how you spoke to him.

you were still frustrated, temper still on high, and yet you held back profanity and sulked instead of snapping at him.

He definitely noticed though, you were so sweet to him that it was hard not to notice.

He'll let you off for just this once, but the next time he catches you he'll have to scold you properly.

He won't admit that he's enjoying the special treatment, he's happy you care about him so much.

but maybe tone it down a little?

Only sometimes though

Well, this one was very fun to write. Thank you once again, dear readers, your support and kind words mean the world. We will dream once again, come find me soon <3. signed, yours forever Moon.

#reverse 1999 #r1999 #r1999 x reader #reverse 1999 x reader #rev1999 #x reader #horropedia #horropedia x reader #male reader

[intergalactic-padawan]

inquisitor - Ezra Bridger

Requested: yes, by the beautiful @raganbridger! Sorry for the wait, it's finally here!

Warnings: angst, dark side!reader, confusion, mentions of bad injuries/blood, betrayal

A/N: You asked for le angst, so here it is! I've had this idea for a long while and this request was the motivation I needed to start. LOTS of alternative endings were written, this was mostly the reason it took so long.

Pronouns of reader: she/her

*ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! I make mistakes just like everybody else 😉*

x

.

-"oh, good, you're awake"

You sit and inhale sharply, focusing back on the real world, startled at the strange voice.

Well, not so strange per se. You knew who was talking to you. What was strange was why he was talking to you.

Before you can adjust your vision to the unfamiliar environment, the memories from hours earlier instantly come flooding back.

Malachor. The place where jedi go to die.

An easy kill for you and your inquisitor colleagues.

That's what they had said on the ship, at least. You, on the other hand, knew better than to underestimate how slippery those jedi could be - especially if they fought side by side, like they always did.

You remember cornering the younger one during the fight. His skill was minimal compared to yours, which would give you an advantage against his master if he were to die first.

The boy and his friends go after the sith holocron. There had been a blinding light when it was placed at the altar.

And also, the jedi knight who was blinded by your former master, Maul.

Maul.

Not only had the cursed man left you for dead years before, he had come back from hiding to haunt you and join forces with your other enemies.

But you were an inquisitor. You wouldn't - you couldn't let him get the best of you, not this time.

You feel a light hand pressing your forehead and recoil in fear, reaching for your lightsaber, only to feel it was not there.

-"whoah, woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you" - it was the padawan you'd been fighting before - Ezra Bridger. He had placed you and his master inside a cave in a planet you were not familiar with when you'd escaped Malachor.

You'd escapd Malachor? But how?

You couldn't have, unless he'd carried you back to his ship.

-"hey, hey, it's alright."

-"what do you want, jedi?" - you wince in pain again.

-"a thank you would be nice, actually. I did just save your life"

-"a foolish mistake. One you will pay for with yours"

You reach out for your lightsaber, but can't feel it anywhere close. Scouring with the force for its presence, you quickly realize he must have hidden it outside the place.

-"Nope, absolutely not" - just as quickly, he slaps your outstreched hand - "I may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid. Your lightsaber's not here, it's caused enough damage already."

You rub the hand he pushed away, more shocked at his actions than anything. How DARE he?

-"Then what do you want from me, if not revenge? Why treat my wounds if not to finish the battle we started?"

-"Listen, I'm not sure if it's the adrnaline or something, but you're in no condition to fight anyone any time soon"

-"You underestimete me, Jedi. Even in these conditions you would be no match for me."

-"Like I wasn't a match for you at the sith temple?"

At the mention of the event, images of the fight start to come back.

Back at the sanctuary, you drew him away from the fight, knowing his strengh lied with his allies. Only, you hadn't imagined your former master to join his side - not until you'd seen the holocron in Ezra's hands, at least. You'd warned him: "he will use it and throw you away. Like he did to me". Needless to say, he didn't listen.

Your vision starts to lose focus at the intensity of your anger and you groan in pain, not able to sit anymore. Driven by instinct, the padawan holds your side so you won't fall completely, pressing your abdomen and making you hiss in pain.

-"ah, looks like I was right. You're conscious, but not healed" - you feel yourself be adjusted back on the ground, too weak to fight him.

-"where are we? Why did you save my life?"

He hesitates, eyes studying you, like you might attack him any second and he still knew it.

-"not so sure" - he finally answers - "maybe because now you owe me one?"

-"Did you hit your head or something?" You scoff - "Make no mistake, I WILL kill you when the opportunity rises!"

-"And that is why your lightsaber privileges have been revoked for now."

You lock eyes, studying him like he had you. It made no sense- you'd followed his group to the sith temple, tried to kill him several times, called for the man who had murdered his strongest ally, Ahsoak Tano. Why was he helping you?

With a shiver, you realize he's still holding your side, not as firmly as before but still providing support for your back. Inhaling sharply, you graze his hand and he lets go instantly, realizing how close the two of you had gotten.

Standing up just as quickly, he brushes a strand of unruly hair our of his forehead, while you you clean your throat, diverting your attention to the exit of the cave. The rain pours on the large trees outside, but you can't make out much except for the fact that you're in a forest planet (maybe a moon?) and his ship is in less than ideal conditions to get out of it.

-"here" - Ezra kneels down with two bacta patches and a piece of fabric from a medical kit -"i felt your back was pretty sore, but didn't want to take off your shirt while you were out. Your cuts need cleaning."

You hesitantly take the items, using the rocks behind you as support to lean your body on. He stands up, hands on hips, and chuckles when you sniff the gel, suspicious.

With the small bit of privacy he gives you by turning around to check on his master, you fumble with your shirt, deciding to take it off in order to see better.

-"Need some help over there?" - he asks, hearing you grunt in frustration at not being able to reach some spots

-"Not from you, thank you very much"

-"Oh, so she CAN say thank you! That's a welcome change"

You throw the rag at his direction, irritated out of your mind. Who does he think he is??

He must sense the harmless ball of soaked fabric coming his way, turning around to catch it mid-air. Now that he's turned, you see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your rage, giving you the answer you needed as to why he went through the trouble of saving you; it was merely to see you suffer and laugh at your expense, apparently.

His expression quickly changed when he saw your bruised torso, however.

- "who did this to you?" - he whispers, and you look down at you look down at your sore ~ well, everything~, covered only by a wrap in the bust area.

-"As you said, jedi. I may be better than you, but you still gave me a decent challenge"

"No. I didn't even hit you there." - his serious reaction to your injuries had caught you off guard, you had to admit. - "those are old and deep, you shouldn't even be able to walk!"

-"I'm not, remember?" - you motion at your debilitated situation, unable to even sit down or cross your legs properly -"But i will be, soon. And then it's over for you"

-"you know what? I think if you wanted to, you would have killed me by now." - he shoots back and you're impressed at his audacity once again.

But he had a point. Why hadn't you attacked him yet?

Sure, you had no lightsaber or phisical conditions to stand, but your force abilities were still as strong as ever. You were vulnerable, but so was he, and you weren't kidding when you said you could deal with him even at your worse.

-"you know what? " - you cross your arms. He was playing with fire now - "maybe I might"

-"and why haven't you?"

-"because I wouldn't enjoy it as much." - you snap back venomously - "I want to see you suffer before I bring you to Lord Vader"

His expression darkens at the mention of Ahsoka's murderer. His whole body stiffens as he balls his wrists and clearly struggles to control his anger at the recent loss. For a moment, you fear you've gone too far, but reprimand yourself for worrying about his feelings over yours. You're not supposed to be anything more than indifferent to the weak and ruthless to those who dare oppose you.

-"Yeah, no matter what you do, you're still imperial scum"

You're not prepared for those words to affect you so much. You're supposed to have a response, but nothing coherent seems to come out of your mouth, so you settle for an an uncomfortable silence.

It doesn't last for long, however, as his comlink goes off. It's his droid, asking - no, demanding - that he go help him with repairs on the ship. He hesitates, looking at you and contemplating how bad it would be to leave you unnatended in the company of his defenseless master.

-"Dont worry."- You reassure him. -"I won't make his situation worse. Maul is the worse you can get, and I refuse to step that low"

You can see he doesnt like it, but leaves for a few moments before returning with what must be the droid that talked to him before. It was a C1 series unit with an orange top and a bratty atitude, you could tell that much by just seeing him interact with the jedi.

-"Chopper will stay here, just in case"

-"I understand. It's fine."

-"I wasn't asking if you were fine with it. Behave" - you can't be sure if his command is directed at you or the droid, but you weren't about to ask.

The coldness he now had to his voice was understandable - you had worked to get him to that emotional state - ,but you felt hurt at the change. The droid didn't do much to help you think clearly about what just happened, and by the look of it, your frustration would only grow bigger in the many hours it would still take to repair the ship to a normal flying condition.

'He thinks i'm imperial scum, huh?' - you think as you scour a pile of your belongings with the force, not too far away inside the cave.

Bad news, your lightsaber really wasn't there.

Good news, your wrist comm was.

'i'll show him imperial scum'

With a plan forming in mind, all you had to do now was be patient and wait for the right time. There's no exchange of words between the two of you when he gets back, which makes time fly by before he's betrayed by exaution and finally gives in to sleep. You take care of the droid easily after that.

Activating the tracking beacon, you start to leave the cave, but not before noticing the boy's lightsaber beside him. It was a bold move, he could easily wake up if you took it, but you knew that if he woke up to see you gone you'd need it to compensate for your injuries.

You were still on opposing sides, after all.

You knew there had to be an imperial ship near the planet, and they would pick up your signal in an instant when you called. Wallking to a less dense area of the forest, away from the crash site, you're proven right when, in a matter of minutes, a shuttle tripulated by four troopers and a senior lieutenant meet you on the ground.

-"and what of the jedi?" - the higher ranking woman asks when you finish your brief description of the events that led you there.

Well, not all events. You'd left out the part where Bridger had helped you recover.

You could just tell them to take the two jedi for excecution. You were supposed to do it, in fact.

-"it's just me. And the younger one's lightsaber" - you finally answer, not exactly knowing why you'd deliberately just saved them.

She nods curtly and escorts you back to the ship without a second glance. It was a good story so far, but you would have to work on it if your superiors were to believe it.

-"Wait- " - you start, second-guessing your motives for not giving away their location. One of the troopers turns to you expectantly.

-"yes, sir?"

You hesitate for a moment, ready to do what you'd beeen taught to do your whle life. Kill the jedi.

Kill the jedi.

A tingling crept up your sides, where the padawan had touched earlier to give you support. You try to betray the gut feeling pressing you to do your duty as an inquisitor, but it's stronger than you. Something is forcing your better judgement to be leaving your natural enemies alive.

-"nothing." - the tingle goes away as soon as it had come, leaving an unusual feeling of relief. - "Thought i'd sensed something. Let's leave"

'Perhaps it's for the best'. - you think as the shuttle's door closes. After all, you did owe him one for saving your life - whatever his reason was for doing so.

That was what you told yourself as you boarded the ship, at least. Now, the next time you saw him, there would be nothing to stop you from finishing him and his friends for good.

.

x

Hope you like it? I gave him a 'hands on hips' moment in honour of your videos for a more personalized touch hahahaha

#ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x y/n #inquisitor!reader

[one-boring-person]

You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face. 

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss. 

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together. 

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface. 

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?" 

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?" 

"Should be." 

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age. 

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly. 

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit. 

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife. 

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire,  through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you." 

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."

#rambo x reader #rambo imagine #rambo #rambo 5 #rambo last blood #rambo 4 #sylvester Stallone #John Rambo x reader #John Rambo imagine #John Rambo

[genshin-obsessed]

of course your writing can compare, pocket! Writing is subjective. There is no fact to writing. If there’s words on the page, and they make somebody feel something, that’s all that matters. And you have thousands of followers, so clearly, you’re making lots of “somebody”s feel lots of “something”s. Don’t feel discouraged. Everybody needs something different. For somebody, or lots of “somebody”s, your writing will be exactly what they need.

on that note, don’t feel pressured to write something for me if you don’t feel inspired. I want you to write something because you enjoy it. If that means writing for me, tahts all good. But that was something I wanted to point out.

and if you really don’t mind me going into my day a little bit more… the truth is I feel worthless and lonely today. I’ve been trying hard to make friends. But it’s difficult. I don’t really know what to expect. What I should be looking for. Trust and affection builds, and as you connect more with another person, they place more emphasis on you in their life. I have noboyd who does that for me except for myself. When I see that others don’t have to do that in all honesty, it makes me feel… worthless. Especially when I see them go towards those people instead of me and I can feel the dramatic dissonance between how I value them and how they value me. It’s unrealistic and unhealthy to expect things to go from one to a hundred, I know. But it still manages to hurt. I wish I was someone’s priority. And of course, this all comes from previous trauma. But these more minor situations always evoke it. But in any case. I need to go do homework, or else I wont get enough sleep.

-🐗boar anon

Adding ss in here for anyone who sees the middle ask you sent where you mentioned you were unsure about whether I could post this or not since I rarely post in order of asks received <3

So for the first part, thank you for such kind words, they mean a lot but no worries! I wasn’t being all that serious anyway! I was just joking but it was true to some extent. I think your writing is beautiful and I’m not sure whether that earlier ask was a joke or not, but you should 100% try writing if that’s something you like. You’re very good at it! And if you’re already a writer then I wish you well on your journey!! I’m sure you’ll have tons of followers soon SO DONT YOU BE FORGETTING ME WHEN YOURE FAMOUS >:0

And don’t worry, I do respond with my little drabble when I feel like it. Recently, the requests I have arent sparking any inspiration so I opt to do these instead! But don’t worry, I’m not ever pushing myself to respond when I do. I just wanted to but that time I couldn’t. No biggie ^w^

Now, for the second part, I’ll be more serious.

I want to preface the mess below by saying, I won’t tell you wanting friends is a waste of time. A lot of people make it seem like if you want friends you’re just looking for validation or something- no. That’s not true. Having people to connect with doesn’t mean we’re living life the wrong way or looking for the wrong things. It’s literally what we’re supposed to do as humans. Connect & interact, so what you’re reading below WILL NOT say what you want is bad, a waste of time, the wrong way to handle life, etc.

I understand. All of that, actually because I went through that as well. Friends are easy to come by, but to have that genuine friend- that best friend- those relationships are so hard to build. They’re sometimes very sensitive too, where they break super easily but take years to build up. That’s terrifying and a lot of people dont want to go through it. It makes sense, why spend years on a relationship when one stupid moment could ruin it all?

But you’re not alone, because I’ve been through similar situations. Most of my life was spent without friends. School was never a good place for friends for me. It’s one of the reasons I despise school with a passion. There was never even a social life there for me. I’m not sure what setting you’re in (whether it be school or a workplace) but regardless, feeling lonely is very possible.

When you’re younger and want friends, you’ll notice a lot of adults tell you friends don’t matter- especially high school friends bc “you won’t even know them when you’re in college”. Sure, they say that as a way to make you feel better but it doesn’t help. Because even for those four years, you don’t want to be alone.

Your feelings are valid and I really, really understand them. There were so many days in school where I was alone/watched friends interact and it hurt. It hurt on some stupid level that I realized wasn’t good for me.

Wanting a friend is normal. Wanting to be alone is normal. It doesn’t make you worthless- and I really want you to understand that. You may feel that way, but at least know it’s not true. There are those super crappy days where you realize just how alone you are. And those days hurt the worst. It’s like a kick when you’re already down.

For some people, they want to have friendships/long lasting relationships but can’t build them properly due to previous troubles (i.e past trauma) and those situations can be worse. Because you feel somewhat responsible for your current situation. Kind of like “maybe if this wasn’t a thing, I would have ___”.

I could probably have a laundry list of times where I realized I really was just so alone. But it’s not something I wanna get into, publicly on my blog. But even now, I don’t have any irl friends. The “city” I lived in for the last two years was all due to my ex. I moved BACK there to be with him and I didn’t like anyone there. I’ve moved back to where my college is and so now I have a chance but I don’t connect well with people either.

I don’t mean to make this about me, it’s more of me trying to show you that you’re not alone. Especially with something like this. All my friends today are online. And it does feel a little unfair, what’s special about me online that people haven’t seen in person, you know? It’s just something we kinda have to push through sometimes, even though it seems impossible or we have those days where realization just hits.

Potential friends can be anywhere, though!

I’m not sure if it’s any consolation but I’m your friend. You may be an anon for me but you’re an anon friend. And for now, we’re not super close and that’s completely fine! One day, you might feel confident enough to reveal yourself and we might get closer. Or maybe someone else online! Maybe you’ll find someone who’ll be besties with you for like ever. I mean, you never know, ten years down the line we could be having brunch at a cute little cafe talking about what our conversation today.

#🌸─ pocket tries #⊱ ─ 🐗 boar #serious

[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 21 - Promises and Christmas Jumpers

Summary: Tension between you and George is rising until a point where you can’t handle it anymore. You just hope he’ll be able to forgive you

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Word count: 3.3K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

You left the Knight Bus feeling sick, it was likely you were going to throw up on that exact spot. Hermione patiently waited for you to catch your breath, before you two headed towards Grimmauld Place, pulling your trunks behind you in the snow.

“Feeling better?” she asked, her hand reaching for the bell.

“Yeah,” you panted. “Just let’s get inside, I’m freezing.”

Yesterday you woke up to Hermione violently shaking you, telling you what had happened to Mr Weasley and that now he was in St Mungo’s. George and the other Weasley kids had already left the school by then, but you and Hermione had to wait until term ended. You had had your last detention with Umbridge yesterday evening; you’d never seen her so angry like this before. She was fuming, probably because of how Dumbledore took things into his own hands. Either way, you were glad Christmas break had started. You could really use a few weeks without seeing ugly toad-face.

“Hermione!” Mrs Weasley welcomed you inside with a hug. “Y/N! It’s so good to see you!”

“How’s Mr Weasley?” you asked nervously.

“He’s quite all right. He’s resting now, we were just visiting him yesterday… But don’t just stand there, come in, come in! Are you hungry? We’re about to have dinner.”

You got rid off your clothes and followed Mrs Weasley to the kitchen.

“Ron, please tell the boys dinner’s ready,” she sent her son upstairs. A minute later everyone except Harry came down the stairs, taking their seats at the table.

“Hermione, Y/N, finally!” said Fred with a grin and sat down next to you. George followed, saying a low ‘hey’ as he sat down to your other side. Sirius was handing plates out while Mrs Weasley placed a big bowl of soup in the minddle of the table.

“Bread, Y/N?” asked Ginny and you reached for a slice. Mrs Weasley’s sharp eyes shot a concerned look at you.

“Did you injure your hand, Y/N? Would you like me to have a look at it?”

The whole table fell silent. George casted down his eyes and was now heavily concentrating on his soup.

“Er — ” you said, immediately hiding your hand under the table. “No, thanks, it’s okay…”

“It seemed pretty serious,” said Mrs Weasley, now coming towards you. “Are you sure it’s all right, dear?”

“Yes, it’s fine, no need to worry — ”

“Show her, Y/N,” said George in a low voice, eyeing the table. “It’s what you wanted.”

You looked at George, feeling hurt, but you felt even worse when Mrs Weasley took your hand and gasped.

“Y/N! How… What… How is this…” she couldn’t find the words. Her face went pale and she found it quite difficult to breather properly. You turned your head away only to lock eyes with Sirius. He was staring at the words on your hand with a stern face.

‘I musn’t mix with purebloods’.

“Umbridge,” you said in a low voice to him. You couldn’t look at anyone else. “She…”

A chair creaked loudly on the floor next to you as George stood up and left the table without saying another word. His footsteps on the stairs made your heart sink even more.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Excuse me,” stood up and hurried out of the kitchen, too. You had no idea what you wanted to say, but you just knew you couldn’t handle this anymore. George’s silent outbursts, Fred’s suggesting looks, the guilt in your stomach… You just wanted to make things right. You wanted to talk it over. You wanted to be ony speaking terms with your boyfriend again.

You ran up to the first floor, slipping on some nasty liquid as you turned to the next set of stairs. You checked your room first but it was empty… Hurried to the next one, finding no one there either. You almost passed the drawing room, thinking there was no chance he was in there, but a small gleam of red hair made you come to a halt.

You peaked your head in quietly. He was sitting on the very end of the couch, his face buried into his hands. First you thought he was crying; but then you realised that his shoulders were rising  and falling very slowly, almost as if he was breathing while asleep — or as if he was trying to calm himself down.

Your heart broke at the scene; even more as you remembered you had caused him to feel this way. It was not until you took a few very slow steps towards the counch, that you spoke in a low voice:

“Can I sit down?”

He could clearly hear you coming in, cause he did not wince to the sound of your voice. He nodded as an answer, without raising his head from his hands. He looked extremely distressed. You felt horrible and ashamed. You sat down, unable to look away from him. You didn’t know where to start. You wanted forgiveness, but you also wanted him to know how sorry you were.

“Georgie, I… I know I messsed up.”

He didn’t answer. Your throat felt dry.

“And I know you wanted me to stop.”

No answer. Your stomach felt really uncomfortable.

“And I know that I haven’t listened to you.

He still didn’t look at you.

“And I… I understand if you hate me.”

Hearing that, he jerked his head up. His face was stuck in a grimace, in an expression of anger and disbelief.

“I don’t… Y/N, I…” he rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Agh! You know what bugs me? I don’t know what to do! I could never hate you, but I can’t sit around and watch what you’re doing to yourself anymore.”

“I know,” you whispered, and your eyes started to sting. You were staring at your hands in your lap now. You couldn’t look George in the eye anymore. “I know that.”

“And you wouldn’t listen to me. What do you suggest I do? I’ve asked you to stop nicely, I’ve asked you to stop angrily. I’ve done everything in my power to persuade you…” he shook his head in pain. “What else, Y/N? Cause I’ve run out of ideas.”

“I know,” you whimpered. You didn’t want to cry but you couldn’t help it. It was to happen at any second now. “I —”

“Look at your hand,” he said in a shaking voice. You had never seen him so furius. Not with you, anyway. He was fuming. “Look at it and tell me it’s worth it. Look at it and tell me that you like what you see. Look at it and —”

“Stop!” you cried. A small sob sqeezed itself through your lips and you felt tears running down your cheek. “I know! I know you’ve told me, I… I shouldn’t have pushed her, she… she payed me back for it, I…”

“Payed you back, what d’you mean she payed you back?”

You needed a few try before you could answer properly.

“She… s-she… she k-killed Peanut!”

“What?!” his anger was replaced by mere shock. You nodded, still crying.

“I’m… I’m an idiot, George…I am such an idiot, a stupid, stupid prat, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

You sobbed into your hand.

“Please, d-don’t hate me. Please, I’m sorry, you were right, just d-dont… I don’t want this anymore, I can’t, I can’t do this — ”

George moved directly next to you on the couch so that your knees were touching. He put one hand on your back. His face was pale and his eyes were full of worry.

“Shh, hey, hey…” after a bit of hesitation he pulled you into his arms and brushed your hair out of your face. “Don’t cry, please, it’s all right now…”

You buried your face into his neck. You saw your tears leaving wet marks on his shirt. He was tenderly soothing your hair. You could barely breath. You couldn’t calm down.

“Please, don’t… d-don’t shout at me, please don’t b-be angry with me, I am so sorry, George…”

“I won’t shout, I promise, I’d never — Y/N, please breathe, okay? — I’m not angry with you, I promise, please just try to calm down — ”

You shook your head. Your voice was muffled by his shirt.

“No, you should be an-angry, I deserve i-it…”

“I’m not following you love, do you want me to be angry or not?”

“I d-don’t want you but you should be, I’m a horrible person!”

“You’re not a horrible person,” he said sharply. “Please, try to breathe, okay?”

“I’m s-sorry… for everything…”

“It’s all right… Please don’t cry, everything’s okay, I promise…”

“Y-you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean it.”

“I w-was horrible t-to you.”

“I know, baby. It’s okay…”

“It’s n-not okay.”

“You said you’re sorry, it’s okay now…”

“You f-forgive me?”

“Of course, love… Come — come here, breathe with me okay?”

He cupped your cheeks and forced you to look into his eyes. He took a deep breath and you followed; when he exhaled you did the same. After six rounds you felt yourself calming down, breathing properly again, tears stopped.

“All right…” said George, wiping your wet face with his fingers. “You scared me there for a bit.”

“I’m really sorry… for how I behaved,” you said again, this time more clearly. “I mean it. I should’ve listened to you… She… She… Peanut…”

You felt your lip tremble again. George squeezed your shoulder firmly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes… It was him…”

You told him the story of the feather. You managed without crying this time, but George’s face went even paler.

“We have to tell Dumbledore.”

“Come on, there is no evidence…”

“But she told you!”

“She could’ve told me anything, that’s not proof.”

You took George’s hand into your scarred one. The letters were showing in bright red. For the first time in many weeks you realized what the words meant. What a disgusting meaning they bore. And you actually felt disgusted and regretted being so stupid to let things go this far.

“I promise I won’t step out of the line,” you said sadly. “I keep my head down.”

“Okay.”

“But I won’t pretend that we’re just friends,” you said firmly. “I won’t talk back, but I want to walk with you to class, I want to sit with you in the Great Hall… She can’t punish me for that… I wanna be with you… I really miss you, George.”

“I really miss you, too,” his voice cracked. “It’s been so dreadful.”

He closed his eyes rested his forehead on your shoulder. You looked at his face, his beautiful, freckled face and you just didn’t understand how could you have been so stupid before. And how could he… be like this? He… He forgave you, just like that. Even though you knew you will never forgive yourself, he did. He had the nicest soul you’d ever had the chance to know.

And suddenly a strange feeling came over you, almost like unfulfillment… And in that moment you just knew that you’ll never be able to get enough of him. You knew that there won’t be a single day when you won’t be wanting more of him… And you could not help but wonder, how was it possible to love someone as much as you loved George.

“You’re quiet,” he said and leaned back to be able to look into your eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I can’t,” you said after a bit of hesitation. “It’s quite complicated.”

“You think I won’t understand?” he said with a half smile, but his eyes looked concerned.

“No, I…” you struggled, now regretting that you’d spoken at all. “Come here — come.”

You thought it was going to be easier to lie down; then you cupped George’s cheek and pulled him gently over your chest so that he’ll be on top of you, resting his head on your breast.

“You hear it?” you asked.

“Your heart? Of course, I hear it,” he said uncertainly.

“Good. It’s yours.”

He jerked his head up. You brushed his cheek with your thumb, a shy smile on your lips.

“Sappy?”

He chuckled.

“Yeah. But it’s all right if you mean it.”

“I mean it. I really mean it. I… I can’t find the words to tell you how much I love you. I just hope you feel it.”

“You’re making me so soft,” he said, shaking his head. Then he climbed closer so that his face would be in front of yours. Then he nodded seriously. “I do feel it. Please, believe me. And believe me when I say the same. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He pressed a soft kis onto your cheek, then your mouth, then he lowered himself carefully to lie on top of you again on the narrow couch.

Snow was falling heavily now, and the strong wind outside was making sure to rattle the old windows of the house. You thought about Hogwarts, then Umbridge, then Mr Weasley who was still lying in a hospital bed somewhere in London. Then you thought about Harry and the Third Task, then the dementors that had attacked him during the summer. And as you buried your fingers into George’s hair, caressing it gently, you couldn’t help but think about your love and that how long will it last before evil interferes.

——

On the day of Christmas you woke up with a start, squinting at once at the bright sunlight that was filling in the room. You blinked for a few times, then you realized what had caused you to jerk awake so suddenly — George was leaning close, barely an inch away from your face.

“What the hell?” you exclaimed.

“Merry Christmas!” he started pushing you to scoot over and sat down to your bed. “I’ve got your present!”

“Oh, no, but I haven’t got you anything,” you teased.

“Witty,” he rolled his eyes and put a box in your hand. “Just open it.”

You sat down and brushed your hair out of your sleepy face, then looked at the package curiously. George was watching excitedly as you lifted the top of the tiny box, pulling out a thin chain that seemed to belong to a neat little necklace. It had a tiny golden locket on it, which if opened, showed a picture of the two of you. The photograph was taken in the Room of Requirement after a DA meeting. The picture-George was laughing at something while picture-you was shaking her head with a smile.

“Oh, I love it,” you said softly, your heart melting. “Thank you, George.”

“Can I…?”

You gave him the necklace and he put it around your neck, pressing a small kiss on your cheek after. You bemaed at him, then reached into your trunk to look for his package. From the  huge mess of clothes and books you pulled out a green little box.

“Here. Merry Christmas.”

He opened his gift with great anticipation. When he lifted the top of the box, his eyes went wide.

“What is this?��

“It’s called a dreamcatcher,” you said. “You should hang it above your bed. Muggles think it’s good against bad dreams and everything. But I made this one on my own… It took a while, actually.”

“Did you really?”

“Yeah. There’s something else to it, too. Smell it.”

He raised the dreamcatcher to his nose.

“It smells like vanilla.”

You smiled.

“Well… I put some Amortentia on it, charmed it so it would never fade away. I wanted to give you something that’d remind you of me even if I’m not there.”

“Witty… it’s beautiful.”

“You really like it?” you asked shyly.

“Yes, it’s brilliant, really,” he looked at the dreamcatcher again. His eyes went misty. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you kissed him on the cheek. “Breakfast?”

“You want to be careful,” said Fred, stepping through the door. “Mum’s been crying all morning.”

“What?” you asked, nervously remembering Mr Weasley. “What happened?”

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you — Percy sent back the Christmas jumper,” said George in a low voice. Git.

“Ungrateful little weasel,” added Fred.

You waited ten minutes before you went down to have breakfast, and even then turned away politely as Mrs Weasley occasionally sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. You helped her do the dishes as a lame way to make her feel better, but then you and the twins joined Harry, Ron and Hermione to play Wizard’s Chess and Exploding Snap all day. In the meantime Mrs Weasley left with some people from the Order to get Mr Weasley and bring him home. You had not recieved your presents yet as she wanted to wait for him and celebrate together.

“Daddy’s back,” she said with a wide grin once you all surrounded the kitchen table, ready to have lunch. Everyone applauded Mr Weasley who seemed a bit tormented but happy to be home at last. Mrs Weasley took one of the many packages and handed it to her son. “Big box for Ron!”

Ron took his present with a reluctant smile, but you were watching George and Fred receiving identical scarves and wrapping them around their neck. George caught your eye as you were smiling to yourself and winked.

“Y/N, dear,” said Mrs Weasley, handing you a package. “Hope you’ll like it.”

You were uncertainly staring at the package in your hand, not sure what to say. You looked back at Mrs Weasley, taken aback.

“Is this for me?”

“Of course, dear! Merry Christmas!

“I didn’t think I’d get —”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N, it’s yours!” scolded Fred, grinning.

“Fred!” said Mrs Weasley, annoyed.

“Open it, Y/N,” said George keenly.

You looked around; all the Weasleys were watching you with anticipation. You took the package again and carefully loosened the thin string around it. The paper fell off, and your eyes fell on a red fabric. You realised with great shock that it was a knitted jumper.

“I… Oh, my God,” you said, your throat dry, as you touched the soft fabric. You didn’t know what to say.

“There’s a little something there as well,” said Mrs Weasley, beaming. You folded out the jumper and found a soft, maroon knitted hat inside it.

You looked at George who was now grinning madly.

“I told you I’ll get one for you, didn’t I?”

“Is it the right color, dear?” asked Mrs Weasley anxiously. “I wasn’t sure if you — ”

You stood up from the table and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, Mrs Weasley.”

Her face was flushed by the sudden surprise. She patted your head gently.

“You’re welcome, dear. Do you like it?”

You were speechless. You remembered clear as day to the Hogsmeade trip when George and you, just as friends, spent a day together in the small village. He told you about his mum making jumpers and hats for Christmas. You had felt a bit jealous and sad at that time. You had felt bad, for he had had the perfect family and you didn’t. And you felt sad, thinking how nice would it be to be a part of a family like his. You had never told him this… But apparently you needn’t have done. He had known it. He had known it very well.

“I love it, Mrs Weasley,” you said, still a bit emotional as you pulled your first ever Christmas hat on your head. You sent a loving smile towards George who just didn’t seem to take his eyes off you. You beamed and in that moment you felt that you are truly a part of his wonderful family.

#harry potter #george weasley fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #imagination #imagine george weasley #george weasley imagination #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #georgeweasley #george weasley #fredweasley #fred weasley #fred and george #fred and george weasley #gred and forge #weasley twins #hermione #ginny #ron #ron weasley #weasley #weasley family #hogwarts #hogsmeade #hp #the burrow #grimmauld place #hp fanfic #hp series

[shizzlinghotbrason]

ok so nearly everyone in the fandom is doing this and as sad as it is that we need to remind these simple things to people, I feel the need to talk about this too.

I won't make this too painfully long because I know y'all most likely already know this and I just wanna put out a basic list of shit you should always follow in the fandom. But for those who don't, a lot of fan content creators, be it artists or writers or just general fans trying to enjoy their time, have been leaving/quitting the fandom.

Why are they leaving, you ask? Toxicity. Toxicity nearly everywhere. People can't hold respectful debates or discourses on interesting topics regarding characters/the books/ships anymore without someone toxicly stating that only their opinion is correct, and going off on anyone who has different opinions carried with a lot of aggressive, rude and shallow behaviour. Fanartists have gotten death threats and are scared of drawing art for the Riordanverse without getting anxious af.

Now the thing is, having done those (eXcepT for the death threats) doesn't automatically make u an entirely shitty person. Maybe you made a mistake and came off as rude without rlly meaning to. That's okay. Here's how to identify if u ever did so, and to change that behaviour. Again, it's okay to make mistakes, but we rn as a fandom srsly need to try to turn things around.

Some basic shit you should remember being a part of the fandom:

• NO NSFW STUFF WITH MINORS!!! That means fanarts, fanfics etc. But here's the shocking thing- when someone does this, you can actually hold them accountable WITHOUT SENDING DEATH THREATS AND CROSSING THE BOUNDARIES! Cuz doing that only makes YOU stoop just as low. Pl e a s e remember that always and be respectful whatever you do.

• That being said, ppl are allowed to write nsfw stuff IF said characters are aged up, aka 18+. Ofc, it's a must that they put a content warning beforehand because many people may not want to read that. BUT, if you don't want to read it and if they've aged up the characters so nothing's morally wrong or gross, then please do NOT hate the author in the comments, do NOT report their post/account. Seriously dude, they gave warnings, if you don't want to read it just scroll past it's not that hard. Unless it's with minors, you shouldn't be reporting innocent ppl's accounts like that.

• one thing that I've seen a lack of in the fandom are trigger warnings. I've seen several fics whose covers are literally of blood. And entire chapters were written with intricate graphic descriptions yet with no trigger warnings or a tw wayyy down in the caption. you never know what may be triggering to someone if a lot of ppl see ur content but the least u can do is put trigger warnings on the most common stuff. I get that it may look aesthetically matching if it's a murder mystery sorta fic but isn't the well being of people more important?

• look I'm not saying you're not allowed to have opinions, but the problem is when you start treating your opinions like facts. I can't count the times I've seen someone state their opinion like it's facts and then trash on other's for having a different opinion. PEOPLE ARE ALLOWED TO HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS. Stop attacking people for liking Jason more than Percy or vice versa, there's no rule that you absolutely have to like one or the other, ppl can like who they want. When you're stating UR opinion, it would be nice if you used stuff like "I personally think that..." or "... that's just my opinion" because again, Ur opinion is just that, not a fact.

• if you can't have discourses or discussions about certain topics respectfully and nicely then don't have them. if someone's done nothing wrong but state their opinions and you don't like it, don't go attacking them. if you don't have anything good to say, shut up and just scroll past. it's not that hard. we don't need any more negativity in the fandom. If you feel like you're about to snap, mute or block the account you don't like and move on with life. But for the love of GOD don't go out of your way to be agresive or hateful to ppl. They have feelings too and run fan accounts for fun, not to get upset and hurt.

• when a fan account owner has made a post saying what they think of a certain topic, and you comment saying you think they're wrong and they reply that you didn't get the point of their post, then chances are you most probably actually did not understand what they were saying. when this happens, pls don't go on forcing ur opinion onto them as if you got what they meant when you didn't. Maybe next time when someone says you didn't get what they were saying, ask them nicely to explain it to you instead of going off like that?

• firstly, shame on you if you've ever run a hate account. just why? how much more negativity do you want to add? if you come across a hate account please please report it and block it and tell your friends to do the same. if you're targeted in a hate post, I'm so sorry, please know that they're shallow ppl just trying to make you feel shitty, you're dont have a trashy fan account; what they say is false and done purely to spite. report and block them.

• I know Rick has written a lot of racist bullcrap and hasn't batted an eye when we complained about them, but that still doesn't give you the right to send him death threats. Again, no death threats to anyone, yikes.

• don't use fanart that's racist. don't repost them either. Piper has feathers in it? don't repost it. also if you can't exactly and properly credit artists, don't repost their art saying "credits to the artist". I've done that before too but now I understand that's not right.

• also, while we're at it, can we all please universally agree on non-racist fanon stuff and get rid of racist canon stuff? like Piper and feathers, and piper & hazel with colourful and golden eyes, Piper's stupid not like other girls behaviour, and all the other bullshit Rick has put into the books. We as a fandom don't accept it and pretend they do not exist, no racism in this place 🥰‼️

• ppl are allowed to have their own headcannons, it doesn't matter what's cannon. Don't go "but in the books it's.." because in the books there's a lot of shit, and besides, if someone wants to headcannon Percy as brown? black? totally alright! they're allowed to do so! don't go bUt pErCy iSnT pOc iN tHe bOoKs. same goes with sexualities and etc headcannons. as long as they're not erasing the already representation of a minority, it's okay to have headcannons of your own. Like Hazel is canonically black and we should respect that and bring out the best of that, yk what I mean?

That's all I have to say for now. I'm usually a very light-hearted cursed meme account on here but things are getting out of hand. I was wanting to make my 8 yr old brother get into the Riordanverse fandom but seeing the situation of the fandom rn scares me. We need to think about the kids in the future who'll be in this fandom, whose lives will be changed and shaped by these books. Surely, the older people in the fandom before us would be utterly disappointed at what it's become and it's our job to constantly look out for the fandom.

If you're leaving/have left the fandom, I'm so sorry that it got to that point, but ur wellbeing comes first, do what you feel is necessary to feel better, all of us send lots of positive vibes towards your way! and to the peeps who've still decided to stay in the fandom and use their account to talk about this issue, I cannot express how thankful I am of you for doing such an important thing right now. And to everyone - as Harry Styles once said - treat people with kindness.

#riordanverse #riordan books #riordan universe #rick riordan #percy jackson textpost #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #the kane chronicles #magnus chase #annabeth pjo #annabeth chase #camp half blood #jason grace #leo valdez #piper mclean #hazel levesque #frank zhang #pjo fandom #pjo headcanon #pjo text post #pjo series #pjo adaptation #pjoverse

[arionawrites]

okay so this is going to get long probably but

i’m fairly content with season seven of the 100. however, before anyone jumps down my throat (i’ve never been active in the 100 fandom for a reason lol) let me clarify: i am the kind of person that can still enjoy something while acknowledging the fact that it’s not good. i believe it’s a product of having a shitty life and not wanting to be burdened by the disappointment of being genuinely angry or upset because of a show or a movie. so, outside of the genuinely fucked up shit (like racism or homophobia or any form of bigotry or any other obviosly not okay shit like that), i tend to acknowledge what wasn’t good but choose to enjoy the media anyway.

i did the same thing with avengers: endgame, and they killed off my favorite character of all time that has been a comfort to me for about 12 years i think. fair to say i’m a pro at this by now.

but, back to the point—i am content with the last season. i see it’s flaws and i can understand why people are so angry about it, but i’m fine.

i have some questions, though.

where does it make sense?

like. they saw these books, right? they made a show based off of these books. then they go on to act as if the books aren’t canon even though the books are quite literally the source material?

bellarke is canon. like. u dont have to like bellarke, that’s totally fine, but it’s canon. in the books, bellamy and clarke get married. jroth acting like bellarke is such a crazy concept that could never happen is actually insane.

that being said, they chose not to have that relationship be more than platonic in the show, which is fine. different forms of canon can have different things happen and that’s not an issue in my eyes at all. my confusion comes in the fact that clarke is the main character, the MAIN character, and they chose to pair her with lexa, which i LOVE—i adore clexa so god damn much, i can’t put it into words—and then killed lexa off, though her death was actually integral to the plot and held meaning and wasn’t just a bury youe gays scenario so, saddening, yes, but i understood why it happened.

that’s my thing. even the bad choices, i can usually still see the reasoning behind it.

but why blatantly ignore the canon from the book that is bellarke in order to establish a super compelling and incredible relationship like clexa, only to then kill lexa off, later kill of bellamy in a super anticlimactic and very sudden way—that, while i can see the reasoning behind clarke wanting to stop bellamy and feeling the need to do whatever it takes, i can NOT see the reasoning in actually killing him off so abruptly and with almost no follow up on it despite him being the second main character since episode one—before bringing lexa back but have it not really be lexa, and then end the show without either ships happening and with clarke, the MAIN CHARACTER, having no one?

don’t get me wrong, i genuinely love the message that family is all you need and that they are family and they do love clarke, but clarke is still going to be lonely. she doesn’t have the love of her life/best friend (lexa and/or bellamy). she doesn’t have her daughter. she doesn’t have her mom. she isn’t alone, but this ending feels... anticlimactic, almost? or like it’s missing something that it should have had.

i guess my main thing is that they chose not to have bellarke, which is canon and in the source material, in order to have clexa, who i love and would be more than happy to have, except clarke ends up having neither in the end?

a person doesn’t need a romantic relationship to be whole. clarke doesn’t need a partner to be considered complete. and if that was the message they wanted to go for by having her so alone on that front, then that’d be fine—if they made the message more clear. but they didn’t. i’m pretty sure the only reason i’m reaching for that message is because i WANT it to be there, i WANT there to be a reason for it, because, really, when it comes to endings, especially for things that are well known and well loved by so many, i feel like everything should have a meaning, even if that meaning is just “there is no meaning at all” and it shouldn’t feel so impossible to dig for that meaning like it is for me right now. without that meaning being so clear, it feels disappointing on all fronts—clexa had a moment of shimmering hope with lexa being brought back for the finale, only for that hope to lead nowhere. bellarke is canon in the books and had six seasons of incredible development and trust building and all of it was torn down so quickly. and there’s no blatantly clear message about not needing a relationship and being your own person or anything like that. it makes everything feel kind of useless. like there was so much love and hype and joy put into both of these ships and they both lost.

so, where does it make sense? where does this choice make sense? is it in the hard to grasp meaning that might not even be there? is it in the focus on the “friends are family” feels that felt slightly forced in the end? where?

i guess it doesn’t matter because i’m gonna be writing a fix it fic anyway. and some clurphy shit because i think i just ship clarke with anyone who would actually treat her properly.

#also tr*mp has c*vod so safe to say im in a really good mood right now #the 100 #the 100 season 7 spoilers #the 100 spoilers #the 100 season 7 #t100s7 #bellarke #clexa #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #lexa kom trikru #clurphy

[hamliet]

Hi Hamliet! Am I correct in thinking historia went thru with the pregnancy to prevent herself from having to eat zeke and to stop eren from going thru with the rumbling? I'm not really sure what's happening and I dont really know anymore the point of the pregnancy.

At this point do u think eren being the father would make things better for hisu? To me, like before identity of father doesn't matter as i think eren will die. But I m somewhat happy historia decided the preganacy thing on her own.

"everything that happened, was what i wanted" eren says but then you see a panel of him crying Sasha's death and Zeke is looking at him because he knows how important she was to him since Eren told him that he wants them (connie, sasha, mikasa, etc) to live long and pacefully lives but thats not gonna happen, because one of them died. Eren is lying to himself? What do u think

Relieved that atleast eren wasn't the one who suggested the pregnancy. He told her to take arms or run from Mp's. So here, I don't understand why she got pregnant then? Can you please touch on that. I know we don't have proper translations yet but still.

Sorry I don't want you to get bored with this but Yams teased the shippers with that flashback and the way he used them? And why do you think Historia choice to get pregnant for love like Zeke said? And why Eren would let a legacy like a child?

I really don't take serious why people think Eren is the father because he was against it and how would be he the father when historia got pregnant to stop him and the rumbling.....?

So Eren and Hisu's conversation is happening before Liberio. Did she know Eren was gonna attack Liberio in order to retrieve Zeke? The timeline is very confusing. I don't get how historia having a kid would dissuade eren? what's the idea?

Send help.

Just kidding! All of these asks can be answered together.

In short: I don’t really wanna talk about the pregnancy plotline. I don’t like it, the way it’s being handled is upsetting, and while Isayama may be dangling strings, I am a cranky cat who does not wish to chase until I am properly fed. So, I am currently not inclined to comment more on this beyond what I’ll say here, but I reserve the right to change my mind.

So here, have a hairball I’ll cough up.

Your guess is as good as mine. 

But in short: yes, Historia knew before Eren attacked (presumably). Eren being the father still seems highly contradictory with the evidence we have so far, but the cutting of the panels is definitely teasing shippers, which means who knows lol.

No, I don’t think it would make it better for Historia. It is not her choice--she wouldn’t be having a kid because she wants to with someone she loves, but instead to manipulate someone into staying and not destroying the world. That’s the epitome of codependency, which was always Historia’s flaw. She would sacrifice everything about herself to help anyone who would be nice to her, so she could believe she was good and deserved to live. Creating a child as a bargaining chip to get the world not destroyed (the “logic” is a child giving someone a reason not to destroy the world; it’s Carla’s logic that a child is special just because they were born into the world, except... Carla wanted Eren and this child doesn’t seem to be wanted, which is tragic for them) isn’t a choice so much as a tactic. It’s terrible. Don’t do that to a child.

However, this train of thought for Historia is definitely a thing even if the child isn;t Eren’s, which I still sure as hell hope it isn’t, because it’s rather ...???? for Eren to refuse to start a relationship with Mikasa because of his impending death yet have a child?

Eren is indeed lying to himself. He is doing this of his own free will, doing this to protect the people he loves, while the Survey Corps--as @aspoonofsugar pointed out in conversation to me--are fighting to protect humanity itself from itself.

That is the choice Annie is given this chapter as well (since they are on a boat I don’t think she left), and Historia was essentially also trying to prioritize those close to her (a child) over the general populace. I don’t think SnK is saying this is inherently wrong for Hisu (for Eren it is), but that there might be times where you are asked to choose, and it’s no easy choice. It isn’t right or wrong--there isn’t an ethical choice at all. That’s what Annie said in the end. The Survey Corps will have to choose whether or not to kill someone they love (Eren) or save the world. But no one wants to kill anyone else, but if they don’t, he won’t stop.

Historia is embodying the opposite of Zeke’s euthanasia plan. Children are the future, Onyakapon told us in an earlier chapter. The contrast of that panel--Historia saying she will make a child--with Eren denying himself love with Mikasa goes on to further illustrate that Eren is choosing his loved ones over humanity, but also Paradis generally over himself. It’s exploring the concept of this choice in all its intricacies and cruelty, and hopefully beauty as well.

#Anonymous #ask hamliet #snk meta #snk 130 #eren jaeger #historia reiss #mikasa ackerman #eremika #snk theory #aot 130 #aot meta

[juki227]

{||~1080p-HD~ ]] Regarder C'est la vie  film complet [[2020]] en Franacais

29 avril 2020  / 1h 43min / Comédie De Julien Rambaldi Avec Josiane Balasko, Léa Drucker, Alice Pol Nationalités Français, Belge 29 avril 2020  / 1h 43min / Comédie De Julien Rambaldi Avec Josiane Balasko, Léa Drucker, Alice Pol Nationalités Français, Belge

PLAY==> http://ver.yess-movie.com/movie/tt9162090/c-est-la-vie.html

Its somewhat ironic that a movie about time travel can’t be reviewed properly until your future self rewatches the movie. It’s bold of Nolan to make such a thoroughly dense blockbuster. He assumes people will actually want to see C’est la vie more than once so they can understand it properly, which some may not. This movie makes the chronology of Inception look as simplistic as tic-tac-toe. Ergo, it’s hard for me to give an accurate rating, without having seen it twice, as I’m still trying to figure out whether everything does indeed make sense. If it does, this movie is easily a 9 or 10. If it doesn’t, it’s a 6. It’s further not helped by the fact that the dialogue in the first 15 minutes of the movie is painfully hard to understand / hear. Either they were behind masks; they were practically mumbling; the sound effects were too loud; or all of the above. The exposition scenes are also waayyy too brief for something this complex — a problem also shared with Interstellar actually. (Interstellar had this minimalist exposition problem explaining Blight, where if you weren’t careful, you’d miss this one sentence / scene in the entire movie explaining that Blight was a viral bacteria: “Earth’s atmosphere is 80% nitrogen, we don’t even breathe nitrogen. Blight does, and as it thrives, our air gets less and less oxygen”). I guess it’s a Nolan quirk. Hopefully, a revision of the film audio sorts the sound mixing out. I do like the soundtrack, but it’s too loud initially. I liked all the actors. You think John Washington can’t act at first, but he can, and he grows on you as the film progresses. And Pattinson is his usual charming self. Elizabeth is a surprise treat. And so on. Its worth a watch either way. See it with subtitles if you can. And definitely don’t expect to fully understand whats going on the first time around. Its one hell of a complicated film. It will be very hard for an average viewer to gather all the information provided by this movie at the first watch. But the more you watch it, more hidden elements will come to light. And when you are able to put these hidden elements together. You will realize that this movie is just a “masterpiece” which takes the legacy of Christopher Nolan Forward If I talk about acting, Then I have to say that Robert Pattinson has really proved himself as a very good actor in these recent years. And I am sure his acting skills will increase with time. His performance is charming and very smooth. Whenever he is on the camera, he steals the focus John David Washington is also fantastic in this movie. His performance is electrifying, I hope to see more from him in the future. Other characters such as Kenneth Branagh, Elizabeth, Himesh Patel, Dimple Kapadia, Clémence Poésy have also done quite well. And I dont think there is a need to talk about Michael Caine Talking about Music, its awesome. I dont think you will miss Hans Zimmer’s score. Ludwig has done a sufficient job. There is no lack of good score in the movie Gotta love the editing and post production which has been put into this movie. I think its fair to say this Nolan film has focused more in its post production. The main problem in the movie is the sound mixing. Plot is already complex and some dialogues are very soft due to the high music score. It makes it harder to realize what is going on in the movie. Other Nolan movies had loud BGM too. But Audio and dialogues weren’t a problem My humble request to everyone is to please let the movie sink in your thoughts. Let your mind grasp all the elements of this movie. I am sure more people will find it better. Even those who think they got the plot. I can bet they are wrong. C’est la vie is the long awaited new movie from Christopher Nolan. The movie that’s set to reboot the multiplexes post-Covid. It’s a manic, extremely loud, extremely baffling sci-fi cum spy rollercoaster that will please a lot of Nolan fan-boys but which left me with very mixed views. John David Washington (Denzel’s lad) plays “The Protagonist” — a crack-CIA field operative who is an unstoppable one-man army in the style of Hobbs or Shaw. Recruited into an even more shadowy organisation, he’s on the trail of an international arms dealer, Andrei Sator (Kenneth Branagh in full villain mode). Sator is bullying his estranged wife Kat (Elizabeth Debicki) over custody of their son (and the film unusually has a BBFC warning about “Domestic Abuse”). Our hero jets the world to try to prevent a very particular kind of Armageddon while also keeping the vulnerable and attractive Kat alive. This is cinema at its biggest and boldest. Nolan has taken a cinema ‘splurge’ gun, filled it with money, set it on rapid fire, removed the safety and let rip at the screen. Given that Nolan is famous for doing all of his ‘effects’ for real and ‘in camera’, some of what you see performed is almost unbelievable. You thought crashing a train through rush-hour traffic in “Inception” was crazy? You ain’t seen nothing yet with the airport scene! And for lovers of Chinooks (I must admit I am one and rush out of the house to see one if I hear it coming!) there is positively Chinook-p*rn on offer in the film’s ridiculously huge finale. The ‘inversion’ aspects of the story also lends itself to some fight scenes — one in particular in an airport ‘freeport’ — which are both bizarre to watch and, I imagine, technically extremely challenging to pull off. In this regard John David Washington is an acrobatic and talented stunt performer in his own right, and must have trained for months for this role. Nolan’s crew also certainly racked up their air miles pre-lockdown, since the locations range far and wide across the world. The locations encompassed Denmark, Estonia, India, Italy, Norway, the United Kingdom, and United States. Hoyte Van Hoytema’s cinematography is lush in introducing these, especially the beautiful Italian coast scenes. Although I did miss the David Arnold strings that would typically introduce these in a Bond movie: it felt like that was missing. The ‘timey-wimey’ aspects of the plot are also intriguing and very cleverly done. There are numerous points at which you think “Oh, that’s a sloppy continuity error” or “Shame the production design team missed that cracked wing mirror”. Then later in the movie, you get at least a dozen “Aha!” moments. Some of them (no spoilers) are jaw-droppingly spectacular. Perhaps the best twist is hidden in the final line of the movie. I only processed it on the way home. And so to the first of my significant gripes with C’est la vie. The sound mix in the movie is all over the place. I’d go stronger than that… it’s truly awful (expletive deleted)! Nolan often implements Shakespeare’s trick of having characters in the play provide exposition of the plot to aid comprehension. But unfortunately, all of this exposition dialogue was largely incomprehensible. This was due to: the ear-splitting volume of the sound: 2020 movie audiences are going to be suffering from ‘C’est la vieis’! (LOL); the dialogue is poorly mixed with the thumping music by Ludwig Göransson (Wot? No Hans Zimmer?); a large proportion of the dialogue was through masks of varying description (#covid-appropriate). Aaron Taylor-Johnson was particularly unintelligible to my ears. Overall, watching this with subtitles at a special showing might be advisable! OK, so I only have a PhD in Physics… but at times I was completely lost as to the intricacies of the plot. It made “Inception” look like “The Tiger Who Came to Tea”. There was an obvious ‘McGuffin’ in “Inception” — — (“These ‘dream levels’… how exactly are they architected??”…. “Don’t worry… they’ll never notice”. And we didn’t!) In “C’est la vie” there are McGuffins nested in McGuffins. So much of this is casually waved C’est la vie as “future stuff… you’re not qualified” that it feels vaguely condescending to the audience. At one point Sator says to Kat “You don’t know what’s going on, do you?” and she shakes her head blankly. We’re right with you there luv! There are also gaps in the storyline that jar. The word “C’est la vie”? What does it mean. Is it just a password? I’m none the wiser. The manic pace of C’est la vie and the constant din means that the movie gallops along like a series of disconnected (albeit brilliant) action set pieces. For me, it has none of the emotional heart of the Cobb’s marriage problems from “Inception” or the father/daughter separation of “Interstellar”. In fact, you barely care for anyone in the movie, perhaps with the exception of Kat. It’s a talented cast. As mentioned above, John David Washington is muscular and athletic in the role. It’s a big load for the actor to carry in such a tent-pole movie, given his only significant starring role before was in the excellent BlacKkKlansman. But he carries it off well. A worthy successor to Gerard Butler and Jason Statham for action roles in the next 10 years. This is also a great performance by Robert Pattinson, in his most high-profile film in a long time, playing the vaguely alcoholic and Carré-esque support guy. Pattinson’s Potter co-star Clemence Poésy also pops up — rather more un-glam that usual — as the scientist plot-expositor early in the movie. Nolan’s regular Michael Caine also pops up. although the 87-year old legend is starting to show his age: His speech was obviously affected at the time of filming (though nice try Mr Nolan in trying to disguise that with a mouth full of food!). But in my book, any amount of Caine in a movie is a plus. He also gets to deliver the best killer line in the film about snobbery! However, it’s Kenneth Branagh and Elizabeth Debicki that really stand out. They were both fabulous, especially when they were bouncing off each other in their marital battle royale. So, given this was my most anticipated movie of the year, it’s a bit of a curate’s egg for me. A mixture of being awe-struck at times and slightly disappointed at others. It’s a movie which needs a second watch, so I’m heading back today to give my ear drums another bashing! And this is one where I reserve the right to revisit my rating after that second watch… it’s not likely to go down… but it might go up. (For the full graphical review, check out One Mann’s Movies on t’interweb and Facebook. Thanks.) As this will be non-spoiler, I can’t say too much about the story. However, what I can is this: C’est la vie’s story is quite dynamic in the sense that you won’t understand it till it wants you to. So, for the first half, your brain is fighting for hints and pieces to puzzle together the story. It isn’t until halfway through the movie that C’est la vie invites you to the fantastic storytelling by Christopher Nolan. Acting is beyond phenomenal, and I’d be genuinely surprised if neither Robert Pattinson nor John David Washington doesn’t receive an Oscar nomination for best actor. It’s also hard not to mention how good Elizabeth Debicki and Aaron Johnson both are. All around, great acting, and the dialogue amps up the quality of the movie. The idea of this movie is damn fascinating, and while there are films that explore time-travelling, there’s never been anything quite like this. It has such a beautiful charm and for the most part, explains everything thoroughly. It feels so much more complex than any form of time-travelling we’ve seen, and no less could’ve been expected from Nolan. Oh my lord, the score for this film fits so perfectly. Every scene that’s meant to feel intense was amped by a hundred because of how good the score was. Let me just say though, none of them will be found iconic, but they fit the story and scenes so well. In the end, I walked out, feeling very satisfied. Nevertheless, I do have issues with the film that I cannot really express without spoiling bits of the story. There are definitely little inconsistencies that I found myself uncovering as the story progressed. However, I only had one issue that I found impacted my enjoyment. That issue was understanding some of the dialogue. No, not in the sense that the movie is too complicated, but more that it was hard to make out was being said at times. It felt like the movie required subtitles, but that probably was because, at a time in the film, there was far too much exposition. Nevertheless, I loved this film, I’ll be watching it at least two more times, and I think most of you in this group will enjoy it. I definitely suggest watching it in theatres if possible, just so you can get that excitement. (4/5) & (8.5/10) for those that care about number scores. At first, I want to ask Christopher Nolan one question, HOW THE HELL YOU DID THIS? Seriously I want to have an answer, How did he write such as this masterpiece! How did he get this complicated, fabulous and creative idea? What is going on in his mind? The story is written and directed perfectly, the narration style was absolutely unique. I have no idea how can anyone direct such as this story, that was a huge challenge, and as usual Nolan gave us a masterpiece that we’ll put beside (Memento), (Inception) and (Interstellar) The movie is so fast-paced in a good way, there was no boring moment. The chemistry between John David Washington and Robert Pattinson was great and funny and both of their performance was really good. Elizabeth Debicki performance was the best in the movie because she had the chance to show her acting abilities and she cached up that chance and showed us an A level acting. The music wasn’t unique and distinct as the music of Interstellar for example and I think this movie needed the touch of Hans Zimmer, I’m not saying that Ludwig Göransson failed but Hans Zimmer in another level. If there was something I’d say that I didn’t like it in the movie would it be that Nolan discarded any set up or characters backgrounds except Elizabeth Debicki dramatic story but it wasn’t that bad for me, I didn’t care about that, the exciting story didn’t give me the chance to focus on it. But the actual problem was the third act, it was really complicated and I got lost and I convinced myself to discard the questions that were in my head and enjoy the well-made action sequences and Elizabeth Debicki performance. I think this kind of movie that gets better with a second and third watch. I honestly don’t quite know where to begin with C’est la vie. I love Christopher Nolan’s work but I have never seen a more complicated film (and I understood Memento). After nearly three hours, I came C’est la vie from C’est la vie not knowing myself, my mind reduced to nothing more than piles of ash. Was there time travel involved? Hmm, there was definitely something about time inversion. I mean, does Nolan even understand what he wrote? Look, I give credit to the director because he’s one of the few directors left who knows how to create a compelling and intelligent blockbuster. C’est la vie is full of Nolan trademarks — the gratuitous Michael Caine cameo, a loud, really loud score, complete with stunning cinematography and slickly inventive action set-pieces. This time around however, Nolan has finally managed to ‘out-Nolan’ himself: the palindromic plot, whilst creatively ambitious, is simply far too complicated for its own good. C’est la vie is overlong, overstuffed, pretentious and too exhausting to comprehend in its entirety — it makes Inception and Interstellar look like Peppa Pig by comparison. I’m aware of the technical wizardry and creative mastery in this film and lord knows I’ll have to watch this again. For those who want a puzzle, C’est la vie at least provides a unique cinematic experience. But to actually enjoy solving it Nolan wants you to work

#Regarder C'est la vie

[randomoranges]

welcome to the past. the year is 2007-2008. i was in high school. i loved to write, but i only ever wrote fanfiction [which is cool]. but one day i decided to write my own - story of sorts. own characters and such. it was for the school paper - the french teacher had asked me if i wanted to have an ongoing thing of mine, since she knew i wrote and then my friend made 1-2 illustrations to go with the first 2 parts. the school paper never really picked up and so i never got to share the full story with an “audience” ever, except for my friend. 

 i was 16 at the time and the writing is very reflective of a 16 yr old girl. i’ve decided to post this, because there was never really a platform at the time that i knew of where i could post non fanfiction writing. 

ive reread this part and i intent to post all the parts to this absurd little story of mine. ive kept it as it was, safe for a few corrected typos so obviously there are ways of thinking and terms that might sound - dated or more “perspective of a young girl who didnt really understand the world” and also, being 18 going 19 was totally rad and Old and Mature at the time ;)

if you’ve read this far and if you were into anime and manga at the time of the mid 2000s, im sure you can pick up on the influences i had with the main character. his whole personality is heavily based on 2 characters i loooooved from 2 different things i watched/read at the time.

i’m still weird dumbly fond of this fic, even if i wrote it nearly 15 yrs ago. 

i dont expect anyone to read this. this is very splurgy and self-indulgent, but if you do give it a spin, i hope you find it ridiculous and absurd and that you don’t totally hate it :)  

and now, may i give you, So Totally OP!

So Totally OP! part 1

 No way! There was simply no way that I would do something as stupid as what I was about to do. No one would force me into the ridiculous costume no matter what they told me. I refused to do it. They could try whatever they wanted but it was out of the question. Many would wonder, why don’t you do it? It’s only for a day. Sure, first it would be for one day, but then they would want me back and I would have to be an entire different person for them. After all, who couldn’t resist my talent?

 The deal I had made with my twin sister wasn’t a very pleasant one. We are both aspiring actors and to top it off we are identical twins. For this audition, they needed a girl and a man who dressed up like a girl. Naturally, I had to be the cross- dresser. It’s not that I minded putting on the ridiculous female clothes and playing the part, I just knew that after the audition, I would be accepted and I would need to wear this ridiculous costume for the better part of the year.

 Some might wonder, what’s so bad about that? The only answer I could give them was that of a “desperate guy looking for cute girl.” I care for my sister deeply and I know that the company can’t go on without my brilliant acting, but there are some things that the male pride and ego would never allow. Especially someone with my status and my talent.

 Just as I was about to get ready to call my manager and give him a piece of my mind about the ridiculous affair, the telephone started ringing loudly, too loudly. Mumbling curses to myself, I got out of my armchair and made my way graciously towards the phone. There wasn’t anything about me that wasn’t beautiful, breathtaking, and magnificent or as many would tell me, perfect.

 “Yes?” I said as I put the receiver to my pierced ear.

 “Taro, get your perfectly fine piece of @$$ over here in a skirt before the director cooks my head for dinner!” My manager yelled to me. I could just imagine his enraged face with his black beady eyes looking frantically at my clear cerulean ones. His face would redden as he spoke and sweat would drizzle from his scalp, to his forehead, to his cheek and finally end its voyage on his neck. Not a very pretty picture, but not everyone could be born the way I was. We can’t all be perfectly beautiful.

 “I told you Ben, I am not doing this. I refuse to dress up as a woman!” I replied in my perfect deep voice; a sound that would make any girl faint right there and then. How did he even want me to speak in those high notes that girls of eighteen spoke in?

 “Taro, you’re eighteen going on nineteen. This is the type of role that could land you right there with the big shots! You could get an Academy Award for this and be one of the youngest male actors to get one. Think about the future of your career!” I knew Ben meant well and he was a nice guy once you got to know him. Finally, after a little pleading I accepted and went to put on my costume. Knowing my sister, she was probably already there.

 I slipped on a bra that was stuffed with things that I never heard of and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked ridiculous! The tank top came next and already I could see the transformation. I was lucky to have a little hair on my slender legs so I didn’t need to wax. That I had really refused to do! I put on the mini skirt and the stiletto heels and walked a bit in my flat. Thank you modeling school! Beauty really paid off after all. I combed my medium long jet-black hair and applied very little make up. Finally I took one of my sister’s purses to make it all look credible. I took one glance in the mirror and I had to admit that despite the fact that I was a handsome man, I made a gorgeous woman.

 I left the flat and walked through the busy streets of town to get to the director’s office. As I was walking, I noticed men staring at me with hungry eyes. If they even dared put one of their un-manicured fingers on my clean clothes, they wouldn’t be able to see properly for the rest of their days.

 As I turned a corner, a person walked into me and stumbled a little. I helped the person up and noticed it was a man. His eyes widened with shock and he embraced me in his arms.

 “Darling, there you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He held on to me longer and took my hand in his. I was too shocked to say anything and I simply followed him…

CURRENT: I NEXT: II

#so totally op! #fic #original writing #old writing

[spicyfloaty]

Give & Take | Chapter 4

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 2.4k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter Three

Chapter Four: Bakugo’s Fingers

If you told Ochako that her first tutoring session with Bakugo Katsuki was going to be as dead silent as it was right now, she would have laughed and thought you were crazy. A scenario she had been playing over and over again in her head consisted of flipped tables, burning paper, and repetitive yelling. She had expected all of these and more, but Bakugo just loved to prove people wrong, didn't he? 

She could have heard the tiny footsteps of an ant, if anything, she bets that she could have counted its breaths in this deafening silence. In all honesty, she’d much rather have Bakugo say absolutely anything if it meant that he would at least talk and give her something to work with. She felt as though she had been having a discussion with a brick wall for the past 20 minutes, given that the brick wall plopped himself on the other side of the room, chin cupped in one hand, looking out a window completely uninterested.

Ochako looks down at the bulk of text on her book and begins to read it out loud. She modulates her voice just right, properly enunciating each term to give off an air of confidence around her even though in reality, her head could hardly keep up with what she was saying, “So basically this means that I should...factor it out?” She asks.

The air of confidence she had while reading almost instantly diffuses after trying to make sense out of what she just read using her own words. She hated the way she sounded so unsure with every concept but asking these kinds of questions out loud was the only way she could get some kind of affirmation that Bakugo was still in the same room as her.

He grunts, not even bothering to look at her. This sound usually meant that she got it right...or wrong, she wasn’t sure, she still had a ways to go in decoding this new language Bakugo had introduced her, he was really fluent in I don’t care. Ochako resists the urge to ask him if he was even listening to her because if there was anything she would dislike more than the painstaking silence, it would be a screaming match with Bakugo. Then again, at least he’d have to say something if that were the case. 

She sighs, then proceeds to read the next few paragraphs. The tone of confidence in her voice falters as each topic she comes across becomes exceedingly harder to comprehend, “This means um,” she quickly rereads the last portion to make sure she has it right, “I factor it again?” Ochako looks up at him hoping for some kind of reaction this time. Unfortunately, the view from that window was still ten times more interesting to him compared to this conversation, if you could even call it that.

“No.” Bakugo says flatly. She waits for an explanation that should usually follow that kind of response, but to nobody’s surprise, it never comes. Ochako almost throws her hands up in frustration, but instead, she just rests her forehead on the palms of her hands. She knew that massaging her temples won’t resolve the steady decline of her patience, but she goes ahead and does it anyways. This way, the not-so-proper things she’d like to say to him right now, bouncing off the walls of her mind, won’t cause an unwanted migraine.

She lifts her head to sneak a glance at the blonde mess that was the back of Bakugo’s head, what goes on in that mind of his, Ochako will never know. She thinks back to Aizawa discussing his situation and how these sessions were quite literally the only chance he has of not being suspended, or if worse comes to worst, expelled. Bakugo’s behavior so far surely wasn’t that of someone who cared about any of that, but one thing’s for sure, he’s here, which meant that he did care. Well, at least to some degree.

Bakugo might think that all he had to do was show up for this agreement of theirs to be fair game, but Ochako couldn’t just let herself be used as his one-way ticket out of trouble when she’s sitting here wasting her time not learning anything.

“Bakugo,” she starts, and for the first time, he actually looks at her, but only for him to glare at her as if saying his name, let alone, speaking to him directly were a mortal sin. Ochako feels herself shrink under the intensity of his gaze, but she doesn’t back down. She wanted his attention, she’s got it right now.

“I don’t think this is working.” she says this in the gentlest way she could possibly put it, her heart rate races as though she was getting ready to poke a sleeping dragon with a wooden stick. One might say that she already did.

“What?” Bakugo snarls. Oh, the dragon was definitely awake now.

Ochako chooses her next words carefully, but she just stumbles over them with nonexistent grace, “I um, I don’t think I can learn just by,” she struggles to find the words to describe the ineffective mess they were doing, “this.” Great job, Ochako.

Bakugo’s eyebrows knit together so closely she’s surprised they don’t start knitting sweaters, “And why the hell not?”

Ochako decides that she’s gonna have to be more specific if she wants to get her point across, even if it means increasing her chances of getting barbequed by flaming hot dragon breath, “It’s almost been an hour and you haven’t said anything to help me understand any of this yet.”

She tries to cushion the slight harshness of her words with a soft expression, but this doesn’t stop Bakugo from narrowing his eyes into slits. He might as well have had trails of smoke fuming from his nostrils judging by the look of disgust on his face, “I don’t know what gave you the idea to talk to me like that, but you shouldn’t”

The point must have missed Bakugo’s head and flown straight out the window along with the rest of the restraint Ochako had been using up until this very second, “You can’t just expect me to not say anything when you’re supposed to be helping me with this,” she dares rival his intense stare with her own, “and I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re not.”

Bakugo grimaces, his scowl sinking deeper into his face as he shifts his whole body in his desk to fully face her, “Listen, round face, I dont know know what the fuck your problem is, but things were going just fine before you chose to complain about it.”

“Fine?” She almost laughs, “You think me talking to myself is fine?” Ochako doesn’t normally raise her voice to anyone, she had always considered herself to be someone who could stay calm and collected in any given situation no matter how stressful it was, but there’s something about him that makes her blood boil to temperatures that would make Endeavor jealous.

“Who says I have to say anything for you to learn something?”

Ochako wasn’t proud of it. Maybe it was all the stress and pent up frustration from her job, her studies, hell, maybe both, that finally snapped the last thread of patience keeping her composed and rational, “Ugh! Why do you have to be so difficult?”

She sends her eraser flying towards Bakugo, but without even flinching, Bakugo catches it before it hits his face, the corner of his mouth lifts to give her a shit eating grin, “Wanna try that again, round face?” He tosses the piece of rubber back and she catches it just in time before it reaches the floor.

Ochako takes a mental step back to close her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down before they spend the rest of the hour bickering, and before she runs out of stationery as ammunition, “Don’t you think it would be best if you actually explain these concepts rather than just having me read these over and over again?”

Bakugo lifts an eyebrow, “You got some kind of problem with reading?”

She releases the tightening grip she had on her eraser, she knew better than to do that again since it won’t even have the chance to crash land on where she wanted it to, “No! I--god, how do I put this, it's just that,” She gestures towards her textbook, “I’m not getting anything.”

“Why?” He asks as if she just told him that she didn’t know how to count to ten. Ochako decides that she didn’t want to argue anymore, she had already exhausted enough energy from just trying to make herself make sense to Bakugo and resisting the occasional urge to throw an entire desk at him. The last one took every single cell in her body not to do.

“I don't know, okay?” She exhales, “I’ve already tried reading all of this stuff on my own, I wouldn’t be here if I could understand it just from that.” She attempts to give him the most earnest look her face can muster, “So can you please just try and help me out here?”

Ochako momentarily catches a flicker of surprise in Bakugo’s eyes, maybe she looked a bit too earnest, just before his face twists into another scowl as he turns away to direct his attention to the wall. Bakugo’s eyes seemed to dart everywhere except her direction, but after a few moments of contemplation, he throws his arms up in frustration, “Fuck, fine!”

She expected him to pull out his own textbook from his bag, but nothing could have prepared Ochako for Bakugo making his way towards the other side of the room until he was right in front of her. He grips the corner of her desk with one hand and flips her text book to face him with the other. Red eyes peek at her from behind the blonde strands of hair that fell on top of them as he offers her his free hand.

Wait, is he asking me to hold his hand?

“Your pen, idiot.” He spits.

“Oh! Right, yeah, um here you go.” He was right, she was an idiot. Ochako hands him her pen and the brief contact of their fingers only add to the heat spreading like wildfire from her neck to her cheeks.

He pulls a chair from the table behind him and sits down, “Tell me what you need help with.” he grumbles. Ochako still couldn’t bring herself to string a single sentence due to the sudden change in proximity, not to mention the fact that they were also sharing a table that wasn’t exactly meant to accommodate two people.

She flips to a couple of pages back and points to an especially complicated part of the lesson. Bakugo takes a moment to read the entirety of the text, underlining a few words and phrases here and there as he goes through each page. Ochako didn’t know what to do while he was doing this, she can’t exactly read along with him since she’d be reading upside down. Instead, she quietly watches Bakugo, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips occasionally parting as he muttered parts of the paragraphs. She wondered if this was what he always looked like whenever he was studying with his friends or alone in his room back at the dorms.

“You done being a creep?” He suddenly asks, his eyes still fixated on her book.

Her eyes widened as she quickly looked for something else to look at, “Yes--no! I mean, no I wasn’t being a creep.” Her eyes find the ceiling. It amazed her how she could find 30 different ways to embarrass herself in front of a single person within the span of a few minutes.

“Sure.” he mutters flatly, eyes still glued on her textbook.

Bakugo finishes reading and turns the textbook again so she could see the things he had underlined along with the short notes he wrote beside some of the paragraphs. He begins to go over each concept and Ochako had to actively slide her finger along each sentence because of how fast he was going. Despite the ridiculous speed that he was explaining in, she manages to successfully keep up, the difficult terminologies and formulas slowly but surely begin to make sense, each cog in her head finally coming together for her to actually understand the examples shown after each concept.

Bakugo hands her back her pen, “Your turn.”

Ochako doesn’t miss the feeling of their fingers touching again when she takes it. This happens a few more times as she answers a set of questions in an exercise, both of them taking turns writing down solutions to each one. After the fifth time, yes she counted, she asks, “Did you bring your own pen?”

Bakugo’s eyes settle on hers once more, a familiar scowl painting his face, “You got a problem with me using this one?” He retorts. She debates on whether it was a good idea telling him that his fingers were distracting her, phrasing, Ochako, but she ultimately decides against it for obvious reasons.

“Nevermind.”

One problem in particular had her stumped for a couple of minutes and it takes all the little Ochako’s in her head to figure out how to approach it. She had been scribbling down the beginning of a solution when she feels a pair of eyes linger on her for a suspicious amount of time. It’s only when Bakugo’s staring hits the 2 minute mark that she says, “You done being a creep?” She grins, not taking her eyes off the page.

“Tch, you wish.” She didn’t have to be looking at him to know that he rolled his eyes at the remark.

An alarm goes off from Ochako’s phone, signaling the end of their session. She had miraculously gotten half of the questions right this time which was a huge improvement considering that she couldn’t even get one right before. She was about to thank Bakugo when he suddenly sprang up from his seat, hastily grabbing his bag from the other side of the classroom. He glances her way one last time before wordlessly exiting the room, leaving Ochako alone with her own thoughts that seemed to only revolve around the warm feeling of Bakugo’s fingers on hers.

#kacchako #kacchako fic #kacchako fanfiction #kacchako fluff #kacchako slowburn #kacchako week #kacchako week 2020 #bakuraka #bakuraka week #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x uraraka #mha ochako #urakara ochako #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha #ao3 #ao3 kacchako

[theseerasures]

Ur really good at deep character diving. Got any advice at this and writing? Cus i feel like i dont know how characterize properly, or if i could i feel like i take things to extreme idk. How to know if im on the right track? Or how to write in general? Thanks 🙏🏼

well, first of all, thank you! i’m not really sure if i have any concrete advice to give about characterization and/or writing, but here are some things i thought about when i read your question:

i think a lot of advice from creatives boil down to something like: go out there! do as many things as possible! experience as much of *insert media of choice* as you can! i’ve always found this kind of suggestion extremely noble, even as i continue to blithely ignore it. i like to obsessively revisit my favorite stories over and over again. part of this might come from that for me, creation has ALWAYS been inextricable from critique–i love to understand WHY i love the things i love, and why i hate the things i hate, and to do that, you have to read and reread closely. it never feels like wasting time for me to go back to something i’m already familiar with, be it movie or book or fanfiction, because i always end up noticing different things and thinking about new concepts. reverse-engineering the things i like in other people’s work into my own work feels natural from there.

i spend a lot of time just kind of spacing out. i think this stems from being pretty susceptible to carsickness as a kid, and the fact that i didn’t get a smartphone until fairly late in the game, but it’s a non-activity that i still very much enjoy–i spend a lot of my commutes just staring out the window, i like to do things that require some kind of physical engagement like working out or cooking, and so on. my head is rarely silent, but the low volume static that happens when i’m spacing out is nice. a lot of times story/character ideas pop in my head when i’m like this–just letting myself free associate for a bit. like a few weeks ago when i was making spicy green beans my brain went “bing! after it sinks in for Elsa that she’s gonna have to cook for herself now she probably devours every recipe book she can find and the result is that whenever she cooks she makes something that tastes like it came out of the Nutro-Matic machine in Hitchhiker’s Guide–technically exactly perfect but also somehow the worst thing in the world” and then i started thinking about if other characters are good cooks and if Anna likes Northuldra cuisine and then Anna was saying “of course Kristoff likes this he’ll put anything in his mouth” while Honeymaren’s eyebrows Did the Dance of Sexual Innuendo, and that was a lot of fun! or the other day when i was in the shower my brain went “bing! for the first few years after Iduna left the Forest she didn’t really feel anything for Agnar except resentment and a weird sense of propriety” and i was like “thanks what am i supposed to do with this” and my brain was like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ he was probably ~drawn to that tho” and that was also…fine. point is: this doesn’t ALWAYS happen, and i don’t zone out with the direct purpose of subconsciously finding The Character Headcanons™, but sometimes it does! the important thing i think is to let your brain have those moments.

i’m a pretty new but fervent convert to the Shitty First Draft. i even write my first drafts out in longhand now, with a fountain pen in a very nice notebook, which is just about the most insufferable thing anyone can do, but it does work. again, i think this is because of my very specific upbringing, but there is something about writing things out by hand that lets me be more imaginative (this might be connected to point #2–something about physical interfacing? who knows). i’ve also always been INCORRIGIBLE when it comes to editing as i write, and writing by hand tamps that urge down somewhat, because getting to the end feels much more important. shifting from pen and paper to laptop also frees me up to do more substantive edits on the second draft–if i have to type it all out anyway, then i might as well change more stuff.

i really don’t think there’s any way to KNOW if you’re on the right track when it comes to characterization, but it is important to let yourself be wrong before you throw in the towel. particularly if you write multiple drafts–don’t worry about if there’s some kind of OBJECTIVE truth to your characterization. if it’s something YOU’D like to see re: that character, then write it! worry about if it rings true/if it’s too extreme/if it can hold up under an imaginary audience’s scrutiny later. nowadays i try to write a little bit every day, which means that i write plenty of self-indulgent things that’ll never see the light of day. and that’s fine! that’s also productive, because i’m blowing off some steam, and because i’m doing more of it, which hopefully means i’m getting better, however infinitesimally. you don’t always have to write with an audience (who’s not you) in mind.

i’m gonna end with something that I’M still struggling with as a writer: a few years back i was at an event with Hua Hsu, and one of the things he said what helped him as a writer was knowing that “not every sentence has to be the most exciting one in the world.” i pretty much always come into whatever i’m writing (be it fic or essay) with a surplus of ideas, and learning to pare those down so i’m not trying to compact the entire universe into one thing is a skill i’m currently trying to learn. obsessively polishing and re-polishing every sentence is exhausting for the writer, and oftentimes it’s exhausting for the reader to read, too. it’s okay to let some words just be the exit ramp to the next exciting thing.

overall, i’d say: if writing is not your job, if you’re doing it as a hobby, then it shouldn’t feel like a chore. even if you ARE doing it for a job, there are ways to make the experience less miserable. give yourself the space to let ideas percolate, and give yourself the space to practice and improve.

#Anonymous

[mental-health-advice]

Submissions from 🦚🌺

So took me a while to scroll through to my last tagged ask (for some reason searching didn’t work). So much about staying consistent and actually tagging my stuff from now on. Gosh uff. The one where sibling found possible drugs and the one about mom being xenophobic almost causing shut down as in passing out were me too. I usually either tend to forget to tag or I guess am kinda scared since I feel I send in A LOT? I really don’t know. It’s just a lot going on and I feel bad always (1🦚🌺)

I feel bad always throwing all my stuff at my friends. Especially as one friend a few years ago was diagnosed with depression. Idk what her current situation is tho except that she seems to do better. I won’t ask her since I feel weird about that stuff. Plus really unless she wants to tell me it’s none if my business. But yeah that’s that I guess. Now… I’ve been rejected from the art college/highschool unfortunately so that’s out the window. My therapist suggests volunteer year 2🦚🌺

Whivh we have a social and economic one of I think? Idk. I know social won’t work because of my likelyhood of social anxiety which kinda self explanatory I guess. Economic I’m just scared I wont be able to pull the whole tear through, scared to do stuff wrong etc. Hell I spent 2 low sleep nights crying after the rejection and mom forced the answer out of me when I clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Turned into an argument about how I got forced into abitur/regular highschool 3🦚🌺

And OBVIOUSLY she blames dad for it. Which like… great whatever he told her. My point is HE was more supportive in front of ME than she was. She just tore me down 2 years ago. Next week I dont have a therapist appointment since she will be moving. So I’m praying this week will go by smoothly. Well as smooth as it can go with all the arguments around here I guess. I’m still trying to process everything since March 4🦚🌺

1? 2? I’ve lost track of time … weeks ago she and her bf fought very badly and she essentially ran away for an hour, he claimed he is leaving but then stayed. My younger sisters were all crying, my brothers were just not surprised and I had to try call family members (which calling others is a physical challenge for me) trying to find a way to deal with what happened. My therapist knows about this incident. She now also knows moms bf smokes weed but not about what 5🦚🌺

else we found. I’ll see if I can bring it up soonish since it still worries me… my brother also later confirmed again he caught them snorting it so yeah most likely we are right about it being cocaine. I feel uncomfortable looking up the effects of it but my cousin said that could explain a lot of moms behavior. Shes always been this way I think.I right now dont even remember where I was going with this ask chain hhhh frick.I’m loosing track of myself once again please send help 6🦚🌺

(Have to switch to browser because app again refuses to let me send stuff wtf) My mom also is back onto “oh you just have split personality!” … I have informed myself on DID and OSDD, I have symptoms yes. But I doubt it’s that. In fact my therapist even talks about that stuff with me! I have different parts but mom doesn’t know they exist so idk. I tried to literally tell her how DID is made and she didn’t want to listen. She claims she did almost everything right and I’m making up 7🦚🌺

My trauma. So you would think that she would stay away from assuming such a trauma heavy diagnosis. Welp she actually doesn’t know anything about mental health either way and legit took my brother off his adhd meds years ago because “they changed him too much” and then refused to take him to appointments when we noticed signs of tourette in him because she felt like she fucked up as parent?? Wat?? I can’t make sense of this woman anymore tbh 8🦚🌺

Sorry that this is all over the place, it’s 1am for me rn, I cant sleep really, still am trying to process I won’t see my friend who I was looking forward to seeing this year for 2-3 years and who would have been a temporary escape from this hellhole until at least another year or 2 depending on the situation, being in the top 10 corona countries and in fact second most infected state in germany and really just switching between sliding down to a kid and /or almost passing out 9(?)🦚🌺

almost passing out when trauma responses shut me down and I just can not describe my emotions of the past months other than I just want someone to hug me and to feel safe and to feel like this mess at home and the world isn’t happening. My mind is all over the place and I feel like at this point I’m going insane and I’m not making any sense anymore. Again sorry for the probably stupid rant/,vent that probably made no damn sense idek anymore - final🦚🌺

So much about what I sent in yesterday hoping for the best. 3 hours ago I woke up to a message chain about how we (me and my siblings. We are 6 in total) apparently abuse her and use her. And basically just complaining about the tiniest things regarding chores. For example yesterday I completely cleaned the kitchen and she complained because some dishes stood around since people still ate AFTER I did the chores. Like tf. My friends say it seemed like from the screenshots that she is 1🦚🌺

using us as tools? Idek anymore. She also completely ignored me sending her and asking her stuff about the valounteer year last night since the school rejected me and I need that alternative. Apparently a clean flat is more important than my literal future. On the other hand I for once had a normal conversation with my almost 15yo brother (I’m almost 19, however not mentally and also not in the position to move still especially with the virus and all) and it turned out that he shares 2🦚🌺

Moms views on therapy whivh I’ve mentioned in the past aren’t really the best views on it. So yeah that’s just great. He basically just thinks it’s stupid. Either way. Currently my only way of possibly getting away would be a psychiatric /mental hospital stay. THING IS while I’m bety aware it isnt like in the movies I am deadly afraid of the thought. Not having my freedom to come and go when I please, not being able to meet up with friends or something etc. I would not feel safe and 3🦚🌺

it would just expose me to a lot of stress and anxiety which wouldn’t be any better than being yelled at constantly at home and having mom shit talk my friends. Everything is just kinda a mess with her rn and my siblings don’t see it from my perspective. Like YES we mess up and don’t do things right. She has a reason to be mad. But NO she doesn’t have the tight to essentially abuse us and no her behavior isnt parenting this is manipulation. 4🦚🌺

They only see the first half and think she’s in the right… I myself struggle to differentiate right and wrong and am unable to read situations well, which is why it took me 17-18 years and my friends calling it out to realise this is wrong. But I at least listen… they don’t. I sometimes just wish I grew up in a stable functioning family. Or honestly that she never even had me since she was VERY young when she had me so that’s probably why she never learned how to 5(?)🦚🌺

Act properly towards us. As she had me when she was just my age (18) and then the following 8 years had 4 more of my 5 siblings. I feel she never had time to grow up and learn herself especially considering she was abused herself…. final🦚🌺

Hi 🦚🌺, 

It's good to hear from you again! There's absolutely nothing wrong with messaging us often, so feel free to tag all of your asks that you send in! I think that will actually make it easier on both of us, as you'll be able to find responses easier and I can look back on your previous asks easier to make sure I'm not missing anything or repeating myself :) Also, the search function on tumblr is quite picky, so unfortunately it can be hard to find posts. I've run into the same issue with locating old asks on the blog as well! 

It's understandable that you don't want to bug your friends with your problems, especially if they have some mental health struggles of their own. However, it might help to think of it this way: mental illness is so common that chances are most people you meet will have some sort of struggle with their mental health, which means you wouldn't be able to talk to anyone about your struggles if you don't want to bother someone who struggles with their mental health. That doesn't seem fair to you! While everyone needs to have boundaries, especially to protect their health, I think it's reasonable to share things with your friends when you're struggling. You deserve that support, especially with everything else you have going on in your life! 

It must have been devastating to not get into art school and I'm so sorry that happened! It does sound like volunteering could be a potential route for you to go down, even if it's just until you figure out what you want to do in the future. It makes sense that certain volunteer options can be rolled out based on the nature of the work and the things you struggle with. Perhaps there is something you could do from home that wouldn't trigger your anxiety. For instance, I volunteer for a text-based suicide hotline, which I do from home. I'm not saying you have to do something exactly like this, but it might spark an idea that you or your therapist maybe haven't thought of yet. It's just something to think about. 

What's going on with the drugs in your house is definitely concerning and I think it would be a good idea to bring that up with your therapist. It's really dangerous to have these kinds of drugs around with younger kids being there. Not only is it possible for kids to accidentally get into it and harm themselves, but it's also dangerous for them to be around adults that are high because of their erratic behaviors. This is why I think it would be wise to talk to your therapist about this to see what input she has. 

It's great that your therapist has talked to you about your diagnoses as well as what you don't have that your mom has tried to say you have. I'm sure it's frustrating to have your mom make those accusations, but I think it's good that you at least have your therapist there to reassure you that you don't in fact have those diagnoses. 

It's so disappointing that your friend won't be able to visit as you guys had planned because I know you were really looking forward to that! Unfortunately, coronavirus seems to ne ruining plans for most people all over the world. Hopefully you guys will be able to come up with another plan for meeting up, though it likely won't be able to happen until the pandemic is more under control. Still, at least making tentative plans for meeting in the future may give you both something to look forward to once travel is finally safe again. 

I'm so sorry that your mom treats you and your siblings this way. It does sound like she may use you guys as tools, as your friends put it. This is sometimes another sign of abuse/neglect, which honestly isn't surprising considering all of your mom's other behaviors.

What you mentioned about getting out of the house makes sense and I agree that an inpatient stay might not be the best way to go about it. Not only will that be more restrictive, as you mentioned, but most hospitals won't allow inpatient stays unless the person is incapable of keeping themselves or others safe while receiving outpatient care (though I obviously don't know whether this is the case for you). I still think it's a good idea to keep thinking about potential ways of getting out of your mom's house once you're ready for that. One option I'm wondering about is a group home (I think these may be called something else in other countries but it's basically a house where several adults with varying physical and/or mental illnesses live together and there are usually various types of staff who also stay there). These can sometimes be a bit restrictive, but much less so than a hospital would be. I believe they typically have a curfew, otherwise you're allowed to leave during the day. Although I'm not sure if this would be a viable option for you (and it probably wouldn't be anyway until after the pandemic is more controlled), it's just something that popped into my head when thinking about other ways of eventually getting you away from your mom's abuse.

What you said about your mom's parenting vs. manipulation is 100% accurate. It's very common for someone who was abused by parents to go on to abuse their own children unless they put in the effort to change, but know that you still don't deserve to be abused and manipulated. It's not your fault that your mom was abused and never unlearned the negative behaviors she saw experienced as a child. You and your siblings all deserve so much better than this! 

-Samantha 

#abuse #abusive parent #drugs #drug use #family #🦚🌺 #advice #advice blog #mental health advice #mhasamantha

[mwolf0epsilon]

Same anon from the werewolf prompts ask. I was mostly asking because I'd love to see the 3rd, 4th and 10th prompt for a Polycho fic. You can decide who the werewolf is, or if all of them are wolves or not. I'm not picky!

The hardest part of getting bit is that, even when he's the "big bad wolf", Josh still can't find a place among his peers.

Luckily the wolf has an eye for good folk and maybe someone up there is finally looking out for him.

---

[[MORE]]

Despite what anyone might believe, Josh Sawyers had always lived a little rough. He'd gone to school, was well read, enjoyed arts and history, and had dreams of being a teacher one day. Sadly, he'd not had the money to pursue a higher education and due to his area of residency and skin color he was considered nothing but a lowly thug.

No one wanted to hang out with the too smart black kid that lived very close to the woods. No one but his family really. But that too had changed when he'd gotten bit.

No point keeping another mouth to feed when it might try to take your hand with it, and having a werewolf in the family would have further ostricisized his parents and siblings from the All American Dream society they were busting their asses to belong to.

In the end, Josh had just accepted it and left.

If he could run from muggers and cops that looked at him with predatorial grins and murderous eyes, he should be able to run with the crew of wolves that further complicated his life.

Except he couldn't.

"Yes I understand I'm a big bad werewolf now but really, I dont want to hurt those cute little rabbits and deer, can't we just wait until we transform back to eat?" He shrunk back when some of the others glared at him with condescending exasperation "That's not how it works? Well can't I just eat before I transform so I won't be hungry–I'm sorry I'm just new at this and I'm sorta trying to go vegetarian here–"

"Jack did you really have to pick the pansiest lilly in the fucking garden? Christ the stupid cunt won't even eat what he can get!" Dimitri, a southern english blond with a thick accent and the worst case of resting bitch face Josh had ever seen on a wolf, colorfully hissed at the alpha of the pack.

"I figured the guy would make a mean wolf. Fuck me sideways, I was wrong." Jack, their leader and the stockiest member of the group, grumbled as he glared daggers at Josh "Fucking smarty pants too good for meat?"

"Might make a good bitch." Yuri, Jack's second in command and a rather spineless idiot, offered with a barking laugh that made everyone else chortle while Josh blushed furiously and looked down.

"Ugh... You guys are assholes. I'm just gonna go for a walk." He got up and moved out of their den, an old abandoned cabin that had definitly seen better days. The stench of wolf didn't help.

"Good luck finding any food, Flower Boy, werewolves are carnivores. You gonna die for being a pussy." Jack called out behind him, getting a hearty laugh out of everyone else in the cabin.

Josh kept his back straight and his head held high, but if his tail had been showing and his ears were just a bit more wolfish, they'd have hung low in shame and sadness.

Not even a group of outcasts wanted anything to do with him. That certainly took the cake.

---

As it turned out, the others were right. As much as Josh wanted to be a vegetarian (a thought he'd had since primary school), the wolf couldn't properly process green foods. It was frustrating, because he didn't want to kill any animals. The thought of blood and gore made him shudder, even if the idea of salty iron tang made his stomach croak painfully with want. He was hungry. Very hungry.

"Think Josh... If vegetables and fruits aren't an option, then what else...?" He mumbled to himself as he walked. He needed to feed, otherwise the wolf would have a few things to say as soon as he got too hungry to keep in control.

His wolf was gentler than the others in the pack, but it was still a wild animal and hunger tended to do strange things to the mind. Especially one driven by the more primal instinct to survive.

He noticed a stream running downhill and got an idea. It wasn't a deer or a rabbit, but if bears could get nice and fat from eating fish, surely he could sustain himself on them as well? It was just a matter of catching some.

"Well, I don't have anything to lose from trying..." He figured, as he took off his clothing and folded it neatly. He set it by a rock near a massive tree, marking it with his sharpened fingernails before letting himself change into a huge dark coated wolf.

The feeling was still strange and painful, but his worries eased considerably as an animal. The world was a much simpler thing for a wolf.

With a hearty howl the wolf sprung towards the stream, hell-bent on catching some dinner.

---

"You know..." A female voice startled Josh as he pathetically crawled up onto the sandbank. A young woman was sitting there, holding a fishing cane and other assorted supplies. She had red hair, wore clothing that looked a bit too big on her, and a pair of heavy boots that looked to have steel toes. "When I saw you climbing out of the stream I was fishing in dirty, wet, and naked, I assumed you had just survived some kind of intense mob hit or something..."

Josh gulped as she set aside her tools and crossed her arms. She was smirking at him.

"But really you had just detransformed from a werewolf after you were playing in the water trying to catch a fish, and ultimately failing." Had she been watching him the entire time? "Nice ass, by the way..."

Yelping as he remembered he was completely in the nude, Josh picked up the nearest thing to cover up. It looked all the more pathetic considering the flat rounded rock was much too small to cover much.

"Easy there. It's not like I've never seen a dick before." The woman rolled her eyes "Now, before I go get my ma's shotgun, state your business here dog boy. You and your pack off to cause us trouble?"

"I... Uh no, no? I'm not..." He shook his head. "I'm not with my pack and uh, I didn't even know anyone lived here."

"We don't. The cabin is a summer retreat." The woman shrugged "What's a wolf doing trying to fish alone?"

"Could you not call me wolf? I have a name..."

"So do I. What a small world."

Josh grimaced before looking back where he came from. He should go get his clothes.

"I... Should get going."

"Hm... Yeah sure. Whatever. Try not to scare the fishes even more, you just cost me and my friends our dinner."

"You have friends?" That was hard to believe. The woman had been nothing short of unpleasant for the entirety of their short-lived and awkward conversation.

"Yes. One of them has a crossbow. Beat it pooch." She glared.

He didn't need to be told twice.

---

A couple of nights later, Josh had finally mastered his fishing abilities and was anxiously awaiting the rise of the full moon.

He hated going back to the den, but cuddling for warmth was the only way not to freeze to death in the woods, and it was risky to wander off too far without the pack. There were other wolves and worse, bears.

Not that his pack cared that he ran off anyway.

Still, as soon as the moon rose he could slink off to the stream and catch himself a good meal. He'd found a massive school of fish in a hole that lead to an underground pool. The fish either got stuck there by accident and couldn't leave due to low lighting, or were just too greedy when feeding on the vast surplus of food that the hole had to offer them.

All the better to keep him nice and full.

He had almost completely forgot about that woman from the other day, until he'd rushed off on all fours towards the stream and caught an odd sent in the wind.

The wolf grumbled in annoyance at the intrusion, but its curiosity was just as great as its human side's.

On feather light paws, it crouched and tracked the sent, before a whiff of grilled fish made its mouth water.

In the same spot Josh had met the woman, were three humans making dinner out of a bucket of large fat fish. It seemed like the redhead was a skilled fisherwoman.

"It's a loud night." A man with a shaved head, tan freckled skin and heterochromia, commented as he listened to the occasional howl in the distance. This trio was far away from the pack's hunting grounds, so there was no danger.

"Werewolves. I met one the other day..." The redhead murmured. "Took me longer to get a catch because the dumbass was flopping about like a drowning lamb."

"You met a werewolf? How come you didn't say anything, North?" A blond man with tired eyes and pale complexion asked.

"Didn't seem important at the time." North huffed "Besides, at the mention of my shotgun and your crossbow, he fled."

"You mean your mom's old shotgun. That thing is rusty as hell North. Wouldn't kill a fly..." The freckled man chuckled "But in all seriousness, Simon's right. You should have said something."

"Oh lay off Markus. It's fine! We're not staying much longer, just a couple of days anyway, and the wolves are far away."

The wolf watched them curiously. They were an odd trio. North, Simon and Markus.

Their names sounded... Nice somehow. And their interactions were all in good jest, rather than aggressive.

Whining softly, the large wolf lay down and kept watching them. It's heart ached for companionship it did not get from it's peers.

The blond's head perked up suddenly.

"Did you hear that?"

"Not everyone has your bat ears Simon..." North pointed out. "What's up?"

The blond didn't reply, instead staring off into the treeline where the wolf hid.

Had he heard it? That was impossible, humans didn't hear that well.

The man squinted, before getting up. His posture was intimidating to say the least, and the look in his eyes was one of warning.

Before anyone could say anything, or the wolf could process what was going on, the blond was right in front of it with his lips curled back so the wolf could see his long fangs. A vampire.

"Simon!" Markus called out, seeming just as startled at the wolf. "Don't do that!"

"We've got a wolf!" The blond called back.

"Is it big and got black mottled fur?" North asked from where she was sitting.

"Yes."

"Same guy from last time. Hey you caught any fish yet or just did a bad impression of the Little Mermaid?" The redhead grinned.

Simon rose an eyebrow in question before noticing the grimace on the wolf's face.

"I don't think it liked that."

"It can say that to my face. Come on, bring the thing over, if it didn't pounce us yet, it's not going to."

The vampire shrugged and looked back at the wolf, still suspicious, before motioning for it to get up and follow. The wolf decided it best not to argue, especially when the redhead offered a grilled fish.

It had been ages since it ate something cooked.

---

"So you really do run solo, don't you?" North asked in the morning, when the moonlight was no longer coursing through his veins, and after they'd all introduced themselves at the cabin.

The redhead hadn't been kidding about owning a shotgun. It was on display at the cabin, but it was also rusted to kingdom come. Markus had been right about it not harming a fly.

She used it as a threat to intruders. Uninvited guests were unwelcome, which was funny considering she had invited a vampire and a wolf into the threshold.

That was certainly some risk taking. Not that he was complaining.

The offered blankets had been so soft he'd practically rolled around in them when he woke up. The texture felt nice against his bare skin. It helped ignore the dull aches and sores of transformation.

"I prefer it." Josh replied. "It's calmer when I'm on my own. Quieter. Easier to get food and rest instead of getting pounced on and forced to submit to some asshole's command..."

Simon held the blanket he'd covered himself in tightly as he took a sip from a glass. The breakfast table was nicely organized, and he'd given them all plates of pancakes and glasses of orange juice. He himself ate nothing and drank a tinted glass that Josh's nose noted was full of pig's blood.

"Sounds rough." The blond commented as he shielded his sensitive skin from the sunlight creeping into the cabin.

"It is... Honestly though I hate my pack so much, like theyre a bunch of assholes but I ran into you guys on my full moon run in the forest and..." he shrugged "I don't know you seem pretty cool..."

"We seem cool? Bitch we're the coolest." North grinned.

"North..." Markus rolled his eyes. "Well... Uh, aren't werewolves social? Running solo seems very lonely for a wolf."

"It is but uh... I don't know, I was hoping I could sorta... You know." Josh stammered in embarrassment "Go hunting or scare some people or some shit? With you guys? I know this lake thats always really warm, I can show you... and uh, there's this hole in the stream that's full of big fat fish that just kinda hang in there? In case you uh, needed more?"

The three looked among each other debating what to do. They only had a couple of days left at the cabin and Josh would surely be lonely after they left.

North looked back at Josh before looking at Markus intently.

"... No." The heterochromatic man said flatly.

"Oh come on, we kept the vampire living in your attic, can't we keep this poor lonely lost puppy too?" North put on an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not a puppy. Also you were living in Markus's attic?" Josh asked Simon incredulously. That seemed a bit weird.

"Technically his dad's attic which technically is my attic because that mansion has been in my family for generations, but yeah sure let's go with that." Simon shrugged.

"A vampire doesn't shed or howl." Markus argued with North.

"I don't shed!" Josh was slightly offended.

"Come oooon. I can walk him, and feed him, and teach him cool tricks." North grinned.

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

"Your pack sucks and you're nice. You're getting adopted by the two most insufferable humans in this part of Michigan." Simon smiled "Don't worry. You'll get a bed, access to hot water and tv, as well as treats. They'll spoil you rotten."

"...Well I can't argue with that." Josh snorted. "I haven't showered in months and the smell of wet dog after I take a dip in the lake is pretty bad."

"Good choice." Simon laughed "Come on Markus, you always did say you wanted a pet."

"I was thinking along the lines of a canary or cockatoo..."

At the end of their trip to the cabin Markus relented, having grown very fond of Josh, and the werewolf collected what little belongings he had at the den before joining them at the cabin and sitting in the back of North's car with Simon.

The other wolves wouldn't miss him anyway, so he didn't bother to say goodbye. If anything he hoped he'd not hear from them ever again.

Thank god his wolf had a good eye for nice folk. North, Markus and Simon were weird, but they were his brand of weird.

He could get used to not living rough for once.

#eps writes: #fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #werewolf au #dbh josh #dbh north #dbh markus #dbh simon