#and then you start to wonder: is all this stress giving you health issues? are you gonna have a bad heart in 5-10 years? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emberfrostlovesloki · 2 months

Text

Protection Spell [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits: Center Left (@thinkpink212) Center (@reidcoffeemoon) Rigth (@flowersforfrancis)

Prompt: The reader reflects on when she and Spencer found out they were pregnant with their first baby, a little girl, and the reader asks Spencer what he whispers to their child every morning when he gets up.

Pairing: [established relationship] Spencer x BAU!reader, pregnant!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 2.7K

Content Warnings: Pregnancy [reader], morning sickness, prayer {no deity named], lots of fluff. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Hi loves! This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins wonderful March and April Prompts. The Prompt I used was “The couple enjoys trying for a baby.” These are tropes/plots that I have never written for before so I hope you like it. I did some research on pregnancy but not a ton, so forgive me if some things are off. I love being challenged as a writer to try new things. I hope you like this little fluffy fic and that you are having a great start to your week!. This was really fun to write. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

y/n = your name

_y/f/f_ = your favorite food

At first, it was the best thing to happen in the world. And it was still the best thing in the world. The little baby girl growing in y/n’s belly over the months had not only brought her and Spencer unbridled joy but also brought the team together in a stronger way. The way everyone had come together to help y/n and Spencer ensured her that their baby would be the most looked after and safest baby in the whole world. How couldn’t she be if with the BAU and half the Quantico office knowing about her already? As y/n lay in bed next to Spencer who was still asleep, belly round in the largest size paternity pajamas that the store had, she reflected on when they’d first found out they were going to be parents.

y/n and Spencer had been trying for some time now. They had been to the doctor multiple times about it, both getting checks on their sexual health. Both y/n and Spencer got an all-clear from the doctor, however, y/n’s OBGYN had told y/n that her stress level and anxiety might be factors that might be affecting their chances. But despite these issues, Spencer and y/n had continued trying. They always made love at the peak window for y/n in her cycle, as well as much much more than that. y/n loved Spencer so much as he did this. It never felt like a chore to either of them. It was a joy to even be trying. They’d had a difficult conversation and both agreed that they wanted a child and wanted to give it the best life possible. So that fateful morning when y/n walked out of the bathroom feeling sick and just trying a pregnancy test that they now seemed to stockpile, and she saw the two pink lines, y/n screamed with joy. Of course, Spencer hadn’t taken it that way. He rarely heard y/n scream, so he rushed into the bathroom expecting something bad, but instead, y/n was standing in the center of the bathroom holding something in her hand like it was the most precious thing she’d ever seen. He was confused. The tall agent walked over to y/n and asked, “y/n, what’s happening?” With a kind of happy dazed look, y/n opened her palm so Spencer could look over her shoulder and see the positive pregnancy test. As soon as Reid’s brain registered what was happening, he froze. Suddenly his brain which could work ten thousand miles an hour came to a standstill. In a half whisper, Spencer asked, “For real?” y/n felt the tears building in her eyes as she nodded her head yes.

As soon as the non-verbal gesture was done, Spencer rushed forward and covered y/n in an embrace. He hugged her tightly and picked her up off of her feet as he placed his head in the crook of y/n’s neck. He just took in the wonderful woman in his arms, not even having the right words to tell her apart from that he loved her over and over again. The couple waited a few weeks to tell the team. They didn’t want to give anyone false hope. Not even themselves, though immediately they started talking about names and baby rooms and the crib They couldn’t help themselves. They started making a list of names but decided to wait till their baby was born to name them. When Reid and y/n were more sure, with the advice of the doctor that things looked good, they broke the news to the team. The members of the BAU responded with jubilation. Everyone had asked y/n how she was feeling and if she needed anything like she might break if she as much stepped down the stairs. y/n reassured them all that she was fine to work, just a bit more nauseous than normal. After everyone had calmed down and y/n and Spencer had reassured them all that they would keep them updated, things went as back to normal as possible when a member of the team announced they were pregnant.

Later that day, Aaron pulled y/n aside in his office for a little talk. For whatever reason y/n was a little nervous, but she did not need to be. Hotch asked her to sit, and she did. Aaron moved behind her to his desk and sat down as well. He had a small smile on his face and he started by saying, “Congratulations, y/n. I’m so happy for you and Spencer.” y/n blushed and replied, “Thanks Hotch. It means a lot to us.” Aaron nodded and then continued, “I want you to know that I’m not going to baby you. I’m going to let you do your job here, but I need you to tell me if you need a break. For anything. If you’re sick or just need a minute, I fully understand. You just need to let me or Rossi or anyone on the team know.” y/n nodded appreciatively that he wasn’t treating her like glass, but that he also understood that she was going to need time and space sometimes too. y/n had rarely seen Aaron like this, to take this tone. She assumed it was from his experience with Haley and Jack. He’d pretty much seen it all with that pregnancy. Of course, y/n was aware that all pregnancies were different, but it was nice to know someone who had seen this before with a job like theirs. Of course, Aaron didn’t give birth to Jack, but he was as attached to Haley as he could be when she was pregnant with Hotch’s son. Aaron broke the peaceful silence and concluded, “Obviously, when things progress I want you to be as safe as possible. We all will, so when that time comes, you, Spencer, and I can have a conversation, okay?” y/n nodded and Aaron couldn’t help himself from asking, “So, how are you feeling? Everything okay?” At the honest question, y/n’s face broke out into a huge smile and she said, “I’m happy Hotch. We’ve wanted this for so long, and it’s finally happening. Sometimes I don’t even know what to think.” Hotch nodded and said, “Well take your time, there will be plenty of that before it’s all over.”

Aaron had been right. There was a shocking amount of time, and yet it seemed to fly by at the same time. All the things had happened mostly normal. Spencer and y/n had found out the sex of their baby girl at twenty weeks, then there were the more constant checkups and ultrasounds. y/n had raised blood pressure and bad morning sickness. Later The BAU ladies and some of y/n’s friends had held her a baby shower early just in case a case popped up. Then there were the more obvious signs of pregnancy like her belly swelling and the first kicks of the baby that nearly had y/n in tears. As great as being a new mother seemed, and as excited as y/n was, it was still hard. As her baby and body accommodated to the changes happening, y/n found it harder to move and her emotions started to play up more than normal. Like the first few days before a period but all the damn time.

Hotch had slowly been phasing y/n off the active team and keeping y/n more and more in the precincts and sites that didn’t have any imminent danger on cases. By the third trimester, Spencer had encouraged her to take a full-time roll back in Quantico until their baby girl came. Aaron had agreed with Reid and said he’d approve the paperwork for the temporary shift in roles. After a few conversations with Spencer, y/n agreed. The stress on the field, even if she wasn’t on on a case, could still be bad for her or the baby, and she didn’t want to risk it. This was fine for a bit until y/n got bored silly with the work and wanted back on the field. The only thing that saved her was Garcia sharing her lunch breaks and telling her all kinds of amazing stories that y/n was certain were made up.

By the middle of the third trimester y/n was ready to step back as things were hurting her more, and she had the instinctual desire to nest and to make their home ready for the delivery of her and Spencer’s baby. y/n asked for the last month off and Aaron granted the time. It was on the first day of y/n’s rest and preparation period that the crib came in. It had been a conversation y/n and Spencer had had time and time again about what model looked most comfortable and safe. Which was the best for the money they had. So when a delivery man came to the front door with a large, heavy package, both y/n and Reid were baffled. Spencer signed for the delivery and the man moved the package inside the living room. y/n and Reid moved toward the package and Spencer grabbed a pair of scissors and carefully opened the top of the package. Nestled inside with a lot of newspaper and other protective material was a dark crib that clearly been handmade. It shone with a dark stain and at the top was a letter in a cream colored envelope. Reid pulled out the letter and opened it up. He already had an idea about who it was from, but the carefully crafted note that brought small tears to his eyes told y/n what she needed to know. After Spencer had taken a few minutes to read and reread the letter, he handed it over to y/n. She took it with trembling hands and read the contents:

Spencer, y/n,

I might have heard through the grapevine, or a very communicative and persistent technical analyst, that you were expecting someone special soon. I’m sorry I can’t be there to support you more practically right now, but the road calls, and I must follow. I hope you find this gift useful. I miss you both and I wish you all the luck in the world. I know you will both be the best parents. Please let me know when my Godparent duties begin. All my love,

Gideon.

y/n had the same emotional response as Spencer, and they embraced and spent a good part of the day deciding where it would go in the baby's room.

At this stage in the pregnancy timeline, y/n was very dependent on Spencer but also felt the need to make everything ready. Their baby was due in a little under two weeks, and y/n could be found sometimes scrubbing the floors and counters, as well as going through her hospital bag again and again and again, even though Spencer had helped her pack it with her most comfortable clothes and supplies she would need for the day of the delivery. y/n had spent hours over this period talking about what she would want to eat after she gave birth and how her favorite _y/f/f_ would taste so, so good. Their normal routine now, when Spencer was home, was that he’d wake up and make her breakfast, then help her with things in the bathroom. Often y/n woke and Spencer would have his hands on her belly feeling for kicks from their baby girl, and more often now, he would be hunched over and talking to their baby quietly, like they were sharing some secret conversation just between the two of them. Spencer had read every book he could get his hands on about parenting and pregnancy. After a while, y/n had called for a ban on buying new books and reminded Reid that he had his public library card and access to databases from all of his prior universities. Spencer had known about talking to babies in the womb, and he’d questioned the science behind it, but as y/n had needed to spend more time in bed in the mornings, she’d find him talking to her belly, and she found it very cute. Even though she did wonder what he was saying.

This morning, y/n woke before Spence who was sleeping soundly beside her as the baby gave a few sharp kicks to y/n’s side. y/n placed her hands on her side and said softly, “I know baby. I’m just as excited to meet you too. It going to be a big day when you come, sweetheart.” y/n lay back and considered turning on her side but didn’t. y/n did move her hand up to Spencer’s curly hair and threaded her fingers through his locks. Spencer naturally turned on his side toward her. After a few more minutes of slumber, Spence lazily opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw y/n and he sat up with a stretch. “How was your sleep, sweetheart?” y/n smiled over at him and replied, “I’m good. I had to get up a few times to use the bathroom, but I slept well. I had a dream I was on the field again, but I was this far along. It’s safe to say I wasn’t very useful.” Reid chuckled and said, “Well I’m glad you slept well.” Spencer leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth and said, “Let me just say good morning to our baby girl and I’ll get you your breakfast in bed today, love.” y/n smiled and nodded as Spencer leaned over and kissed her tummy, running his hands over it before he leaned over and softly, almost inaudibly spoke to their baby. This procedure happened every morning. y/n assumed it happened even when she was still asleep and Spencer went in early. y/n’s hands found their way back into Reid’s soft locks which she massaged gently. Spencer’s eyes flickered up to hers and then back to his task. When he finished, Spencer looked up and y/n had to ask, “What do you say to her every morning?”

Spencer's smile brightened and said, “Promise me you won’t think it’s silly?” y.n cocked her head and said, “Of course not Spence.” His response made y/n wonder what he was going to say even more. Reid let out a little chuckle and said, “Well, I start by telling her good morning. And then I tell her how excited we are to meet her. Most times I count down the days till she’ll come so she learns her numbers.” y/n nodded along and then Spencer said, “And I also pray to every goddess of pregnancy and fertility I know for a safe delivery and good day that she’s born. Just asking for some help when I get very stressed out on the day of.” At this admission, y/n quicked an eyebrow. She didn’t laugh, she thought it was cute, but not much in Spence’s character. y/n ran her hand over Reid’s sharp jaw and asked, “You never came across as much of a religious person Spencer? Is this something new?” Spencer sheepishly looked at y/n and said, “Well, I don’t know if I believe my prayers are reaching anyone I’m asking for help. But, I’ve learned as much as I can about what’s coming, but that doesn’t mean I know what’s coming. I suppose I can’t predict everything, and having some extra help, even if it’s a placebo can’t hurt. Think of it like a little protection spell. You and our baby girl are the most important thing in the world for me. And I’ll do anything, anything to keep you safe. Even participating in a bit of superstition to make sure it happens.” y/n smiled warmly and pulled Reid into a hug, burying her face into his chest. y/n knew that Spencer was going to be the best father ever. They had a team behind them ready to support them. But as y/n took in just how special Spencer was to her and their baby, she sent up a little prayer of her own for anyone who would listen, thanking the universe for bringing them together.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

Want to be added to my tag list? Please check out this post (linked)

Want to send in a request? Please check out this post, CM Request Post (linked)

168 notes · View notes

lemmetreatya · 11 months

Text

Change and Her Consorts — Miguel x Fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: 13 Minutes. 13 minutes was all it took for Miguel to (metaphorically) loose everything. Getting back onto his feet wasn’t easy, especially when life was changing and all he felt was stuck. But once you come back into his life, Witty, Hot and everything in between, Miguel wonders that maybe it was the change in others he needed to witness first before he could even consider making change for himself.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k+

CONTENT: modern au, childhood friends, afab reader, mature themes of death, grief, mental health issues, slightly angsty, hurt/comfort, is it a comedy? it’s a comedy, fluff, smut, sex, male penetration, mating press, blowjob, protected sex, nice ending i promise!!, i wouldn’t say reader is oc but she has a character for definite, also miguel is very??? difficult in this and his character can also be classed as ooc but its modern au and he’s been through it so bare with

Miguel knew he had to change.

Ever since he lost both his wife and kid to childbirth, it’d been so hard to piece things together again.

It’s honestly all bullshit. Finally thinking things were going good for him just for life to chew him up and spit him out like a fleshy plum seed all within the space of 13 minutes felt dehumanising to say the least. It left him fist fighting Depression, backing liquor shots of Sorrow and occasionally sharing a bed with Anxiety. That would fuck anyone up mentally and emotionally — And it did that to Miguel for a long time. He’s just grateful he had a good enough support system to crutch him through to the other side.

He sold the house he brought with his late wife and moved back in with his parents around eight months ago. That was a whole thing in itself. Left his job and hasn’t worked full-time since. He had a whole phase where he ‘no longer had anything to work for’ and therefore just…didn’t.

His parents were nice about it for a bit. Said he always had a home under their roof and that he could use the money he got from the insurance payout and house to cruise by while he healed. But then after about 3 months of Miguel taking the absolute piss with being unemployed, heartbroken, undriven and essentially a‘bum’ (Jessica Drew’s exact words), he found work in the local dairy produce factory as the ‘Payroll Guy’.

Despite none of this being his ideal picture of how life was supposed to look at this point of time, Miguel knew he had to change in order to survive. Having being so wrapped up within his own world, he knew that moving on in some capacity was his next step. Getting comfortable with the shell of a life he had now and the things he once knew were true would help with that.

The only issue is that Miguel forgot that others changed too.

An oof leaves Miguel’s mouth as his stomach is suddenly burdened with a paper sack to it. He looks down at his mother, more than a foot shorter than him, who’s passing him a bag of coals.

“I need this done.” She vaguely says.

“For the grill?”

Miguel asks it as an inquisitive question but he’s implying it more as disbelief that he’s been asked. His mother catches on and therefore explains her reasoning.

“I wouldn’t usually (‘ask you’, she implies but doesn’t say) but your fathers quickly gone to the shop and we need to start putting things on the grill. People will be arriving any minute now.” She dusts her hands before already moving elsewhere within the garden.

Miguel jogs the bag of coal in his arms and stagnantly turns his body in his mother’s direction; like a sunflower to the sun.

“Then I don’t have to do it?” He tried.

His mother gives him a quick look. It was sharp but she didn’t follow the intention through.

“I would like to start grilling things soon.” She stresses.

Miguel doesn’t reply right away since he’s been told he needs to think before he speaks. And so he thinks, hard, about what his mother was asking him and then answers accordingly to how he thinks he should.

“So I don’t have to put the coal in now?” He slowly enunciates.

“Ay, coño— Si! Si, Miguel! You have to put them in now, I’m telling you to put the charcoal in now! Vamos!”

Miguel lets out a haggard sigh.

He doesn’t like how he always get in trouble for these sort of things. He was bordering thirty and still had trouble depicting what his mother actually meant when she made implicit remarks.

The doorbell rings and so Miguel’s mother is shooting off back inside to open up for the guests, all not before giving Miguel certain The Nike Slogan eyes and a jabbing finger point towards the barbecue.

Begrudgingly, he gets a start on filling the bottom of the grill with sooty rocks.

As he’s detaching the rack, Miguel can hear high pitched welcoming and multiple voices towards the front of the house. He faintly hears someone ask for him, followed by his mother directing them towards the backyard where he was. At that, Miguel groans.

It’s not like he hated gatherings, but Miguel would definitely prefer a phone call or the occasional text message. Or just no communication at all.

But to his avail, he had no way of avoiding this. His parents were adamant to host a casual cookout of some sort and they knew he had nothing better to do so by default he had to be present. There wasn’t even a reason for the function. Just Something about opening up the home and having more laughter flow through it. Sounds cliche but Miguel didn’t care much for laughter anymore. Not that he never laughed — there were some humorously dark memes either Peter or Jess would send him that were subjectively funny and occasionally earned a breathy snort out of him. But it was no question that joy was definitely void in his life. It was hard to look forward to things and the days seemed to drag on and lack meaning.

No matter what way he looked at it, life was dull. There just wasn’t shit to be happy about.

“Miggy!”

Miguel perks up.

He recognises that voice anywhere.

He didn’t know you were coming but it definitely made sense for you to be here. His parents were making a bigger than usual deal out of this gathering so of course old faces would be present.

Miguel hears your voice call him by that juvenile nickname over and over again as you venture throughout the house. It’d been well over a decade since he last saw you but he knows both your parents keep in touch. Because of that, he doesn’t immediately turn around to address you once you enter the garden because he’s not expecting much and he’s still trying to evenly set up the coal rocks at the bottom of the grill.

“Miggy.” You say with perky tone.

The man’s sighing as he brings his head up, dusting his hands and wiping the apple of his cheek with the smudge of his palm.

“Till this day, what’d I tell you about calling…me...”

Miguel’s words are cut off short as soon as he turns to see you.

He opens and closes his mouth several time but nothing comes out. He’s adamant he looks so stupid right now but his shock is so genuine that he doesn’t blame himself for the reaction. Honestly, awestruck didn’t even cover half of what he was.

There you stood, in all your adulthood glory, a finer woman than he could have ever imagined you’d turn out to be.

Nothing about you was the same to how it was over a decade ago yet it was all so classically you. Or, whatever that meant. He’s not sure. If you’d given him creative direction over what he’d envisioned mid-20s you to look like, he definitely wouldn’t have come up with this.

Fuck, not like it matters what he thought. Why would anyone give him creative direction over anything? No, he’s not trying to say he wanted to control how you grew but he is saying whatever did, did a good job.

Oh, Miguel hates trying to justify things to himself. He knew what he wanted to say but he just didn’t know how to say it and it was pissing him off because this was all happening inside of his head and God, he probably looked crazy to you right now but he just couldn’t compute this change.

To put it plainly: You were hot now.

A soft tinkly chuckle leaves your throat as you notice the man’s frozen reaction.

“Hello to you too, Miguel. Everything okay out here?”

Miguel’s still freaking out mentally because man, even your laugh was the same but it was just so different and maturer and older and hot.

You amusingly side eye him, no longer calling him Miggy and cautious of his behaviour. You take a few steps round the back of him which ultimately puts you outside of his vision and peripheral. You end up on the opposite side, hands on your hips and face curious as you inspect the barbecue.

As soon as you’re out of his eyesight Miguel snaps out of the trance. His mind starts to catch him up to speed and he’s stuttering like crazy when he turns to you to try and explain himself.

“I—Ee—I…yeah. I…I’m setting up some rocks. For the grill. Not…Not just any rocks, like actual— actual charcoal, coal rocks that you…that you light barbecues with and…yeah.”

“I see.” Your tone is sarcastic, lightly teasing even, and Miguel has to curse himself for acting so lame.

He blinks at you a few times (Hot.) before casting his eyes back to the grill (Not hot. Yet). He occupies himself with the task.

“Of course. You know what coal is...” He mumbles the last bit to himself, a reminder that you weren’t an incompetent bristling teen anymore to whom he had to explain everything.

Miguel spends the majority of the barbecue in your company.

Not like he had much choice; you two were the only people around the same caliber. Everyone else was either middle aged, a couple, or a bustling child weaving between adult’s legs.

Chatting to each other wasn’t all that bad. You both nursed several bottled drinks between you and straddled garden chairs towards the bottom of the yard as you caught up with each other’s lives. Whilst he would have preferred hulling up in his room, having someone new to talk to as opposed to the same two people was rejuvenating.

Over the duration of your conversation, Miguel finds out that you’re a Data Analyst and it somehow makes him feel insecure about his crappy Payroll job. You however assure him that it was nothing to be ashamed of (“You’re a Finance Bro and I’m a Finance Girly. We go hand-in-hand!”). He also opens up about how he’s attending group therapy sessions — through which he met Peter and Jess. He also, speaks about Peter and Jess, but he quickly found out that apart from Peter and Jess, there wasn’t much else for him to talk about.

But surprisingly it was enough for convo because you always had new discussions to talk through with him anyways. Some were silly, (“Come on, you’ve got to admit it! The Teletubbbies having kids is just weird.”) some were trivial (“Cats or Dogs? — And be honest!”) and others reminiscent (“Remember how we tried to build a secret hide out in this very tree?”).

Miguel also found out that you were single.

“I know you mentioned you’re doing therapy and stuff but…how are you holding up? Like, really holding up?”

An automatic groan leaves Miguel’s mouth. There it was — three hours into the conversation. The million dollar question.

He hates gatherings and functions for this very reason. No matter how much people smiled in his general direction or pretended that they weren’t tiptoeing eggshells around him, they would always ask how he was in relation to That event in his life.

Not like they cared. If they cared, they would go out of their way to ask him, routinely check up on him, and not just when he was conveniently in front of them. They only asked because they were aware of the situation. Aware of his misfortune.

The guy who lost everything in 13 minutes.

The survivor of a freak accident.

Someone you’d pity from a far but thanked whoever that the situation never happened to you.

For that reason alone Miguel always lied and said he was ‘fine’ or that he was ‘holding up okay’. They’d give him pitying eyes, tell him that ‘things will get better’ and then kept it pushing. Usually, when it came to these questions, Miguel’s automatic response is to lie. But there was just something about you; Changed yet The Same you, where Miguel felt that he owed the honest and naked truth to.

“Honestly?” He drags a hand down his face. “I’m barely holding up at all. Everyday I feel like shit and if one day I surprisingly don’t, I know it’s a fluke and that I will definitely feel like shit tomorrow. It’s just a constant state of feeling off and never truly yourself.”

There’s a slight pause. It’s comfortable.

During that pause, you’re both privy to the music of party life. Chortling men, gossiping woman, squealing kids. It’s bittersweet because it kinda reminds Miguel of what he could have had.

Taking a swig of your drink, you make a humming noise before you’re replying to his triad.

“Damn. That’s rough, buddy.”

Miguel snorts.

Not because he likes how you’ve brushed off his miniature melancholy rant but because he gets the reference. Throughout the course of the barbecue, he thinks that’s one of his favourite things he’s noticed about you.

You both fall into another comfortable silence, before you’re adding:

“You know, being a widow kinda suits you.”

Maybe he spoke too soon about what his favourite thing about you was because now Miguel’s choking on his cider and wondering whether this too was a pop culture reference.

“I— wha— you can’t just say that kinda shit!” He turns to you and exclaims.

You scoff before rolling your eyes.

“You know I don’t mean it like that. Not that I like what’s happened to you — Rest in Peace to them — but as in the reverence that’s come with the trauma? It suits you. It’s matured you.”

You lull into another short pause but Miguel knows you weren’t finished. He also wonders if you’ve always been this harsh.

“Not sure if you’re aware but you were a real tool growing up, Miguel. Utter pure, soft, sheltered muck. This whole thing? It’s pushed you to survive. Moulded you. Given you a bit of character building, if you like.”

Your voice is much more calmer but it doesn’t change the fact that you just landed him with the most self-dismantling piece of information he’s heard in a while.

And yet it’s so bizarre because Miguel can’t help but find himself laughing.

Not one of those nose snorts when the group chat send subjectively funny memes or when he watches silly animal videos on his phone. No, Miguel’s caving over, free arm clutching to his stomach as he lets out a hefty guffaw. It doesn’t last long though. After about several seconds he completely stops laughing and sits back up regularly.

Initially, you think he was about to tell you it was all an act and what you said was in fact highly offensive. But it’s when he reverts back to his original position and continues to let out small huffs of laughter that you realise he’s just not used to reacting to things he finds extremely funny.

Which you’re questioning because nothing you said was a joke, but anything to get the sad man to smile, right?

But alas, seeing as he found humour in what you said, you let out a dry accompaniment of a laugh.

The two of you probably looked crazy, or at least drunk, as you each mildly chuckled away, weakly swaying side to side. When you both found it funny enough to stop laughing, Miguel spoke up first.

“Character building…” He huffs before taking another swig of his cider. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

You turn your body in the man’s direction and he knows you have something profound to say. Miguel realises within some meta existence outside of himself that your company is oddly easy to keep.

“How else can you view it?” You warmly reply. “That it was meant to be? That you simply have bad luck? I dunno but every other option is just too demeaning and lifeless to live by. With this explanation at least it gives you a reason to carry on.”

Miguel nods solemnly with a pondering look on his face.

“I never saw it that way.”

“Of course you didn’t. You were grieving.”

There’s a pause but it’s not like the others you’ve shared so far. This silence was slightly uncomfortable, uncalled for even. Miguel didn’t mind it because he feels he’s already gone pass the point of feeling embarrassment with you but he could tell it put you in a compromising position.

Looking over to him, your face vacates something undetectable.

“And about that…”

You softly clear your throat. Miguel is about to take another swing of his drink, but it’s when he sees a glint of something in your eyes, that he decides to slowly lower the bottle neck from his mouth.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you. In all honesty I was around when it happened and definitely knew what was going on I just…I didn’t know how to approach you about it. We’d grown apart for a bit and it was just…it felt strange to give my condolences after being distant from you for so long.”

There’s a tingling sensation scratching at the cage of Miguel’s chest.

He doesn’t know what the feeling is. All he knows is that he hasn’t felt it in awhile. But then again, Miguel hasn’t felt a lot of things in awhile so he’s not questioning what it is. But most of all, Miguel is surprised that he’s feeling things for once. He’s not sure if he wants to confront himself about them but he knows that they’re influencing his thought process.

Miguel tries to take a sip of his drink, but suddenly the liquid felt foreign in his mouth and his throat seemed unwilling to gulp it down.

He contemplates backwashing it back into the bottle but he’s suddenly subconscious about his image in front of you and how you perceive him.

Weird.

He forces the cider down.

“It’s whatever. Shit happens.” He says while squeezing the edges of his lips clean.

You make a noise of disagreeal. You used to make it all the time as a teen. Miguel wonders if you continued using it after all these years or if you just redeveloped the habit having being in his presence. He also notices how your chair seems to be a lot closer to his despite you never moving once.

“I know.” You say with slow and downward enunciation. “But either way, I’m sorry. I should have done better by you.”

You’re trying to stress something to him. He knows that now for sure but Miguel doesn’t know what you’re putting down or what he’s allowed to pick up.

He watches over at you with firm determination to find out what you’re insinuating but once he sees the way your eyes reflect the fiery dances of ambers, oranges and borderline crimson reds, he turns his head forwards again and clears his throat.

“I hear it. I appreciate your honesty.”

Miguel doesn’t know how he got into this position.

Actually, he does. He very clearly remembers how he asked you if you wanted to carry on talking inside, within his room specifically, and how he smooth talked you into getting on your knees.

But in all honesty, he didn’t mean for it to turn out this way (or maybe he did). Yeah, he may have walked up those stairs with his dick lurching colourfully within his pants at the insinuation, but his initial intentions was to give you a safer space to talk. He’s honest when he says his invitation was powered by a lot more than just pure unadulterated lust.

“Fuck…” He hisses once you scrape your bottom teeth ever so lightly against his shaft.

Miguel doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t think animalisticaly stuffing them in your hair will do him any good and he thinks a hand on the cheek is too intimate. All he can find appropriate is to splay his hands behind him and slightly lean back to watch you work.

It’s almost alien seeing how your cheeks hollow over his cock and how your eyes fluttered shut as you manoeuvre your mouth up and down the length of his member, your hand helping you with what your mouth couldn’t reach.

Miguel doesn’t think there’s anything dehumanising about this.

He was so sure you were giving him the eyes back in the garden. And with the way your lips quipped to one side when he invited you into his room? Yeah, you were big people now. Adults. These sort of things weren’t like hushed secrets or tales of promiscuous old — these were You Either Do or Don’ts — and you both decided to Do.

“I-I’m close.”

No, there was nothing dehumanising about having your now super hot (and single!) childhood friend suck your cock within your childhood bedroom whilst your parents backyard party went on just outside your window.

Whether it felt right or not was for Later Miguel to worry about.

Despite his heed, you were still working your mouth over his cock. Your lips were so prettily spaced around his girth — almost a perfect fit, and Miguel knows he could easily finish this way but he’s making an active decision not to.

He wants to be mildly selfish and ask for more.

“I-I said I’m…nrgh.” Miguel sits forward before laying a few fingers to your forehead. “I don’t want to finish like this.”

You release Miguel’s cock from your mouth with a pop but you don’t leave him hanging dry. Your hand continues to stroke at his wet shaft and fuck, the way your lips glisten with your spit and his precum is legitimately going to push him off the edge, but he has to refrain himself.

“How else did you plan on finishing?” You quip.

Miguel seems to freeze as he gives you a look of expected understanding, and at first, he’s so sure you were going to make him spell it out but as predicted, you caught on quick and your eyes widen in realisation.

“Oh.”

Your hand discontinues stroking Miguel’s cock and he mildly panics at your response.

That didn’t seem like a good ‘oh’. Miguel doesn’t mean to be an enemy of his own progress but trust for him to end the day with a fractured friendship and blue balls. Suddenly, Miguels backpedalling on his initial stance of being selfish and getting what he wants.

“We don’t have to. I—Only if it’s okay with you, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“No. It’s fine.” Your tongue pokes out to swipe at your lips. Fuck. “Might as well get something out of this.” You quip.

Miguel wonders whether he should have been cautious of how rusty his pipe game had gotten. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone since his late wife and even then, he stayed off of her most of her pregnancy. Either way, as he’s thrusting his cock in and out of you, all he can think of is how forward you were with telling him about himself outside in the garden.

It’s not like he was a masochist or into degradation, but there was something about the way you were so bold and open in highlighting his flaws despite the satellite silence for well over a decade.

“How’s this for maturity, huh? For character building?” He grunts into your ear.

Okay, so maybe Miguel’s sex talk has gotten only a bit rustier, but with the way whimpering whines dribble from your lips, he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger like a promise string. He folds you into a deeper mating press, your feet cuddling his upper back and his body pressed against the warmth of your breasts.

“M-Miggy.” You moan into his collarbone.

The nickname causes an innate and deep annoyance to sprout from Miguel’s chest — so much so that he replies inadequately.

“Shut up.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he notices your stilling against his body and he immediately regrets his words. He however continues to fuck into you.

“S-sorry. I di-didn’t me—“

“Miggy.” You moan again, this time with even more intentional lust and immediately he knows what you’re doing.

“Don’t.”

His warning is solid, and inertly tinged with concern, because Miguel’s unsure how he’s supposed to look you in the eyes after this. You’re playing devious games, dangerous ones as you nail at his back.

“T-t-touch me, Miggy.”

Now, you’re really testing his patience but also his limits because Miguel is taking everything in him not to go all out.

And so he complies. Despite him knowing that it was going to rot at his brain for eons and eons to come, that he wasn’t going to be able to back away from this now that he’s had a taste, that he couldn’t go back to be being just Childhood Friends with you, he complies.

One of Miguel’s hands reaches down between the both of you and once he wedges it close enough, he allows his thumb to swipe at the meat of your swollen clit.

The mewl you let out is instant and makes Miguel’s dick hiccup inside of you and suddenly he’s seeing stars. Had you no concern for the party still very much going on? The possibility of someone hearing you? The issue of getting caught?!

A devious grin finds its way onto Miguel’s lips and he’s pressing wet open mouth kisses just below your earlobe.

“You’re so fucking dirty.” He breathes.

Quite frankly he’s lying through his teeth.

There is nothing about this experience or your request or your wanton reaction that was dirty. It was all in fact very sexy, lucrative. Hot. Miguel would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying every wet second of it.

The man can’t help but look down and watch as he bounces his hips harder against your seeping cunt. White froth forms around the base of his dick and he can’t deny that the sight arouses him.

“Is this who you really are, huh? All this time…all this time.”

It’s implicit what he accuses that you’re so called hiding, as if you haven’t been transparent with him this whole time. A breathy laugh leaves your throat.

“You’re…pro-projecting.” You mutter.

All Miguel can moan in reply is:

“I know.”

It doesn’t take long after that before you’re cumming around Miguel’s dick and him into the wryly rubber of the condom.

“Where do we go from here?”

Miguel is first to speak.

The two of you have been chilling out in silence for the most of twenty minutes. He was kind enough to let you stay underneath his covers. You were comfortable as you used his bed as your own, scrolling through your phone with one hand underneath your head and your feet rubbing like cricket legs. There was enough room for both of you to lie under there but you said something about not wanting to touch him just after sex.

Miguel deadpanned and then proceeded to call you things like spoilt and bratty in Spanish, but he still let you have your way.

Now he was sat at the foot of his own bed (can you believe!), back against the wall as he idly played a game on his console.

His phone had been buzzing all day; Peter and Jess ultimately amusing themselves in the group chat all whilst occasionally asking where Miguel was and whether the social interactions of the barbecue had killed him yet. He could respond now, but he’s saving the reveal of what went down till after you’re out of his hair. That way he can fanboy in the peace of his own company.

But now that the two of you were silently sharing a space, Miguel is starting to wonder whether he wanted his own isolated company now so that he could think properly. It’s when he’s failed to complete a level for the fifth time in a row (because his minds occupied on you) that he decides to lower the controller and therefore ask you that question.

Your eyes continue to stay glued to your phone screen as you answer him.

“We don’t have to go anywhere.” You mumble plainly. “Don’t have to put a name on anything.”

Miguel sighs loudly and he’s rubbing his face with both hands. His dramatics pass over you.

“Fuck, no, no. I’m not doing that. It’s either we are or wes isn’t. I haven’t got the capacity for any of that situationship, fuck buddies, friends with benefits bullshit people’ve got going on.”

Miguel is scared for himself once he says the words because it’s only after they tumble out his mouth that he realises they were kinda harsh — which, technically shouldn’t be a problem concerning that was this evening’s whole weird theme.

But he feels even more afraid because as stupid as it sounds, he can’t lose you. Another staple in his life. Despite him only reconnecting with you for the past few hours or so, Miguel has grown very attached to you and would be an idiot to deny that you meant a lot to him.

He couldn’t afford to lose you over one fuck.

Either way, Miguel doesn’t regret those words. They were a direct reflection of how he felt, of what he was thinking whilst he was fucking into you not even half an hour ago. He knows that this one canon event has caused a split trajectory for the both of you. Miguel thinks whatever happens after this is just another testament to how life continuously deals him rubbish cards but he can’t figure out what’s worst: having to let go of a possibly good thing or deal with the change that will now inevitably come with the relationship.

However you, clearly not as turmoiled as Miguel, slightly lower your phone screen from your face so that you could stare at the man.

“Then ‘wes isn’t’ anything then. Simple as.”

It was so obvious this was affecting Miguel internally because there’s that screw up face he does when he’s inadvertently tickled by something he’s heard. He use to do that a lot growing up.

“How can you be so calm about this?” He asks.

“Because it’s not that deep.” You shrug.

Now Miguel’s leaning closer to you, voice seeming to seethe but as a clear defence mechanism.

“Whaddyou mean it’s not that deep?!” He spits.

Because he’s acting like this, you now have to lock your phone and place it down onto the bed so that you can give him your utmost attention. You’re even thinking to back track your earlier words about him having matured. It was obvious that he was still that same young boy who sought to always get what he wanted.

In a weird sense, it was comforting.

“Not in that way, dummy.”

You force yourself to sit up against his headboard, the blanket sliding down to expose your naked chest.

“I didn’t see sex with you as casual, Miguel. It was definitely something. But I’m just… Mm. I don’t wanna say I’m not in a rush to label anything but, it’s you. Lil o’ Miggy from two doors down. There’s too much to us and who we are, how long we’ve known each other, how much we’ve experienced each other to let sex completely change that.”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting your words because his face falls and his eyes widen. He’s so unaware of his facial expressions that it’s cute.

With a huff of laughter you shake your head before slouching backwards even more. The way your eyes doll over him was surely a testament to your lack of will power when it came to him. Always has and always will be.

“I love you but in a much bigger way than just platonically or romantically or sexually. You mean a lot to me and I’m grateful we were able to have that experience to strengthen that.” You say softly.

Miguel finally closes his mouth. His eyes still bore holes into you but you can see his skin start to redden in the embarrassment from the chest upwards.

You’d figure it’d be a lot for him to take in. Granted — because hearing your childhood friend say they loved you in a much larger capacity than anyone ever could — despite having not seen each other in years, straight after sex, was definitely something. And you figure that part of it was you trying to express to him that you really were sorry, so you realise your triad can almost be viewed as borderline manipulative, but you wasn’t lying.

You loved the man in a bigger way than fathomably possible, and that was the truth.

Finally coming to his senses, Miguel leans back against his bedroom wall again, picks up his controller and resumes to play his game. Initially, you think he’s taken your words the wrong way and misunderstood you, but then he starts mumbling something as he’s watching the screen with a hard stare and blotchy crimson skin.

“That’s unfair.” He mumbles, the click of the controller working in between pauses. “You can’t tell me you love me whilst showing me your boobs. It’s cheating.”

And you laugh, because what else can you do? As hard-headed and brash as he was in his earlier days, this was who Miguel was. It’s the first version of him you ever fell in love with and didn’t stop loving. It’s the version you’re carpingly in love with now.

Lifting up a corner of the duvet, you give the man permission to join you in his own bed.

“Miggy, just get underneath the blanket and stop pouting at me.” You say, and he can’t but help instantly crawl over and dutifully comply.

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #across the spider verse #across the spider verse smut #atsv smut #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader smut #atsv x black reader #atsv

325 notes · View notes

aesterblaster · 2 months

Text

Bad Dogs Can Learn New Tricks

Which Blue Lock Characters Have Gone To Therapy, In My Humble Opinion. (+ Who Desperately Needs To But Hasn't + Who Might In The Future)

Warnings: Some spoilers for way past the U-20 Arc, also not an extensive list of characters, honestly kind of funny. I wasn't trying to be TOO serious

Songs: Falling Behind / Laufey , The Main Character / Will Wood , Nothing's New / Rio Romeo

Has Gone To Therapy And Loves Their Therapist Gang

-Anri, There is no way she is able to have that much patience and take that much shit from corporate without having a therapist. I think she uses like 1/5th of her paycheck on books about improving your life and stuff like that LMAO. Her therapist is also a woman so it helps her to have someone who understands her frustrations with not really getting credit despite being one of the founders of Blue Lock. Also sometimes she gets worried she's unethical towards the boys so that weighs on her.

-Kenyu, Look it's still in progress ok? He was just starting before he came to Blue Lock. Once he realized he was going to lose his vision he started working with a professional and found it really helpful. In fact they were the one who encouraged him to go after Blue Lock in the first place. One of the reasons he was so quick to say sorry to Isagi is because he has those #coping skills.

-Gagumaru, After having a run in with a bear in the woods he kept having nightmares and his parents made him go to therapy. Well it was kindddd of therapy..it was a hippie who's a family friend. That doesn't mean he doesn't know grounding techniques. He even taught Naruhaya how to calm down from a panic attack once. But yeah, he doesn't really tell people that he went to therapy

-Snuffy, After his best friend's death he went to therapy ASAP. The type to only call his therapist once every 5 months and still have a rock solid relationship with them. His therapist helped him break his womanizing habit and realize that he's enough all on his own. 100% did some soul searching and stepped away from the scene. He also combined the therapist with a personal trainer to really max out his healing process. 100/10 dude for it.

"I Have Gone To Therapy And It Didn't Work" Crew

-Chigiri, Similar to Kenyu, his parents thought he might need some mental health help after the trauma of thinking he'd never be an athlete again. But he was one of those cold shoulder my mom is forcing me to do this cases. He never actually worked through what he might do if this whole thing falls through. Also snarkiness 100, his therapist almost quit because he was so insulting to them. Chigiri just felt ashamed that his parents even thought he should go in the first place and convinced his sister to also beg them to stop taking him lmao.

-Isagi, Okay at some point his parents realize he takes faliure wayyy too hard and tried to get him in therapy. When he talked to the therapist though the dude was like "Yeah, he's just competitive. Nothing wrong here." Alas, he's been masking for so long that he's incapable of revealing his issues to anyone who hasn't known him for 3 years or plays sports with him. Also, he convinced himself he doesn't need it and then idly imagines just going apeshit and killing his enemies to cope with stress...like bro...

-Noa, Why do you think he gets along with Isagi? All jokes aside, his PR people probably asked him to do it and he went and then secretly never went back. It honestly didn't work because he wasn't willing to give it a chance. And still isn't!!!! Would rather backflip off of a yacht than tell someone in a lounge chair about how growing up in intense poverty still haunts him sometimes, makes him question his worth and avoid conflict in day to day life. Sometimes he wonders if one day he'll wake up and find out it was all a dream....But nah he doesn't need therapy!

-Oliver, He was soooo close to actually getting his mental health in check but then his therapist retired. After that he got another really seasoned one and saw the amount of case files in his desk and just felt like a straight up burden. One of those "other people have it worse" and "it is what it is" guys. He's very open about his emotions and feelings so he just talks to his friends when he's really struggling. (Even though Sendou never says the right things-) Like yeah it's their job but why bug these nice people when sex?? Why talk about issues in sessions when he can get drunk or go train for 4 hours??? Riddle him that?

The "I Need Therapy And I Know It" Team

-Ness, He has so many fucking issues. Honestly, despite his devout worship of Kaiser he does realize that his behavior isn't quite healthy or normal. Dude tries to show you a funny video on his phone and all of his ads are for Betterhelp. Genuinely trying to figure out a diagnosis. Yes he has looked up all sorts of personality disorders and no he doesn't think he has any of them (He has at least two). But again, Ness is self aware enough to know that some help or someone to talk to who sees him as an actual human being would be nice.

-Niko, He cannonicaly describes himself as very very introverted and nerdy, also he hides his face. Tell me you were bullied in school or at least had an extremely traumatizing incident without telling me. Kind of never had anyone, just people who hung around because of his soccer skill or avoided him like the plague. He is that guy who will rant about "society" online for hours and fantasize about moving to a different country thinking he'd get better treatment there. Cripplingly lonely and self conscious at the end of the day, in all honesty. Also he genuinely wants a therapist but just can't afford one.

-Hiori, Obviously his parents are the ones who stop him. He tries to go and his mom realizes where he's making her drive him and swerves off. Even when he gets his license, you just know they're tracking everywhere he goes. He doesn't have enough privacy to really get better like that, Hiori has to wait until he moves out. Still genuinely fucked up by the fact that Gagumaru has gotten therapy and he hasn't. Just listens to emo music and plays video games and pretends that that fixes everything. He's totally releasing a top-selling book about his horrible childhood after Blue Lock.

-Bachira, Is he outgoing and silly? Yes. Does he need better coping skills? Also yes. Men will tell you the most horrible and traumatizing childhood memories about getting jumped and then laugh it off, and it's him, Bachira is men. He ties to brush off his trauma with humor but it never really works. He knows that he genuinely needs to talk to someone other than Isagi or his mom about the Monster and how it was by his side for so long. But also never goes through with getting professional help, just thinks about it sometimes.

The "What's Therapy? Fuck You!" Group

-Kaiser, Oh god, don't even suggest it to him. I headcannon that mental illness kind of runs in his family. He's watched family members be taken away for being too out there and openly mentally ill so he has a reason to not trust doctors. Just associates therapy and things like it with abusive institutions. If he told a therapist all of his issues, he'd probably be sent to a psyche ward. Just the threat of being sent there single handedly kept him from killing himself or talking about his feelings when he was younger. He will continue to just be slightly abusive to the people around him thank you very much.

-Ego, Bro's got the government banning him from soccer and you think he's thinking of therapy? When Anri tells him he needs it offhand, he's like, revenge is my therapy. Insane as fuck but thinks that it's a good thing. He is not willing to talk about his issues to anyone, but especially not someone who will write it all down. Genuinely ruined a few relationships in his past because the main people he attracts are the "I Can Fix Him" people and it just never works. Suprisingly unself aware for how much he analyzes others.

-Barou, His main issue is just shame and failed gifted kid syndrome. But as soon as he's back up he's convinced he doesn't need help. Barou suffers from really high highs and really low lows but he also has the mental fortitude to handle it. He is a well adjusted and kind enough person outside of the soccer field so he never considers that he needs therapy. When he feels bad about himself he hits the gym but he's never really opened up to anyone and he sure isn't going to start once he gets more famous. Especially when he's seen as one of the best right now, can't risk his reputation.

-Rin, He's would rather gut himself with a sword than admit that his mental illness doesn't make him a cool loner wolf and just a lonely person who hasn't healed his inner child. Kind of just wants someone to baby him and tell him everything's going to be alright but in the mean time his barriers are up 24/7. He disdains therapy, thinks that he'd just be seen as a pay check and he kind of isn't wrong. Rin would rather pay money for expensive cleats than spend it for someone to suggest him breathing exercises. He also had a traumacore phase, but he'd rather not talk about it.

#every once in a blue moon my brain works #blue lock #bllk #blue lock headcannons #bllk headcannon #bllk anime #feel free to add on in tags #rin bllk #isagi yoichi #barou blue lock #ego jinpachi #kaiser michael #bachira bllk #hiori yo #niko ikki #ness blue lock #bluelock #chigiri blue lock #bllk fanfic

85 notes · View notes

dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 10 months

Note

Hello! I'm going through a rough time right now and I was just wondering: can I request the ROTTMNT turtles x a S/O who has anxiety, depression and PTSD? How would they take care of a S/O whose depression spells make it hard for them to get out of bed, take care of themselves etc? Bonus if S/O is plus-sized/chubby and insecure about it.

Hope you feel better soon 💜

Raph Leo Donnie and Mikey x Reader with anxiety, depression and PTSD

Raphael

★ Oh lawd please let him help. He wants, no, he needs to help you. You are his s/o and he cares about you more than you think. Need a mental health day? He's coming over with sented candles and snacks.

★ Anything you need, he's going to give. If you are having one of those days where you feel you can't leave bed he will stay by your side so you don't feel alone. If he needs to leave your side he grabs a few of his favorite teddy bears and puts them on the bed where he was.

★ He's familiar with the concept of having body image issues but never once thought about you having them. Your body is perfect to him. It's soft and warm, ideal to lay down and cuddle with. What could be missing?

★ You are gorgeous. You're probably tired of hearing those words from well meaning people but to him it's true. In his eyes every single thing you see as a flaw is beautiful.

★ "How was your day?" Is asked every night when the two of you meet up. He genuinely wants to know how your day went and how you are feeling. If something went wrong of if you are stressed out about something you should vent.

Leonardo

★ When you start to open up to him about being insecure he is going to feal really bad. Mostly because he knows what it feels like and the idea that you feel the same hurts.

★ He is going to mess up at first, but he wants to help. He regularly sends you random body positivity photos and memes he finds online.

★ One of his go-to ideas for when you're feeling stressed out is to bring you on a walk around the hidden city and do a little sightseeing. Usually it works and you get your mind off whatever was bothering you.

★ PTSD attacks scared him at first, purely because he didn't know what to do. He felt really bad after he first saw you have one because he had to call his sister, April, to help. Later he went down a rabbit hole of googling and websites to know what to do next time.

★ Nowadays he is much more prepared, he knows a few grounding techniques to try and help you through PTSD attacks. He even put together a "emergency Y/n kit" filled with stuff for you. Among other things it's got gum, a soft blanket and some watter.

★ it's just a tote bag that sits in the corner of his room. It also has a few Lou jitsu movies on DVD to watch together.

Donatello

★ You have unlimited access to his room and lab for the sole reason that it's the quietest place in New York. It's definitely not because he worries about you and wants to give you a safe space. Not at all...

★ When you don't have the motivation to get up out of bed you get to have some very rare and valuable Donnie cuddles. Usually he would cuddle you for so long but you need this, so he does it for you.

★ He tries to gently bring up the subject of antidepressants, hoping that you might decide to try them. But in true Donnie fashion does it by saying "Did you know antidepressants affect two neurotransmitters in particular, serotonin and norepinephrine?" Yea, he ain't slick.

★ He would never force or pressure you into going on meds. If you say you don't want to go on them for whatever reason he accepts it and leaves it at that.

★ However, if you choose to he would go over the different types of medication. Lists off the side effects and benefits along with what they actually do. For gods sake, he might go through the process of drug compounding for you. No doctor prescription needed.

Michelangelo

★ Can't find the motivation to get out of bed? He's joining you and ends up clinging to you while asleep. He's only leaving the bed if you leave the bed.

★ However, neglecting your own health is where he draws the line. You are not allowed to neglect yourself (not bathing, eating enough or letting yourself to give up). Imagine him saying "open wide!" While holding a chicken nugget up to your mouth.

★ Venting session might do you some good. If you can't afford therapy (thanks American lack of public healthcare) he will pick up a book on phycology and try his best. He's not the world's best therapist/boyfriend but he's trying.

★ Over time you end up telling him a lot about where your PTSD came from. Mikey is really good at noticing things that upset you now. Along with that he researches the effects of mental illness, to try and know more about what you're going through.

165 notes · View notes

auncyen · 3 months

Text

Normally, you're happy to visit the Head Housemaiden's office. You've dedicated your life to Change since you came to the House, and she's guided you for many of those years, first as a teacher in various courses you took and then as a mentor as you made more and more Changes. She was even considering naming you as her successor, as her hair loses its darkness and she feels ready to take new Changes more slowly and languidly than most practicing Housemaidens. But right now, she looks at you with pity in her eyes, and you feel ice in your stomach.

"I've noticed a Change in you, Euphrasie. I'm not sure if you're aware of it…or perhaps you are, but didn't wish to talk about it," she says, adding on that last bit as some twitch in your face betrays you.

Your hands wring each other in your lap. "I'm sorry," you say.

The potential for Change is a motivating force for the faith's adherents. But all but the most innocent children know that Change is not always good. Change requires Destruction, and Change is not always voluntary or desirable.

This Change is terrifying.

"I should have told you when it started, but I thought perhaps I was just tired, or stressed--I thought it was temporary, or that I could Change to be able to work around it, but--" It's getting harder and harder to explain yourself as tears choke your throat and spring up in your eyes. You wanted to give yourself time to adapt, and in so stole time from Amandine. She could have had another successor picked by now.

"Euphrasie." Amandine reaches an open hand across her desk, and you take it. She gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and when you look at her through the haze of tears you glimpse her kind smile, one you've striven to emulate. "I'm not upset, only concerned. Changes of the mind can be very difficult to cope with, and I'm worried you've been trying to deal with this alone."

It takes at least three more minutes of crying before you can speak again. Amandine can surely discern the answer from that alone, but she waits patiently for you to speak again, her thumb rubbing over your hand in a calming gesture. "I--I didn't know what to say," you admit. "I'm--forgetting my tasks, forgetting words--I'm worried I can't even be a Housemaiden anymore, and I don't want that. I love being a Housemaiden! It's all I've ever wanted."

"You will always be welcome in this House, Euphrasie. Never doubt that," Amandine says, and you grasp onto those words even if they're not quite enough. You want to be a Housemaiden still, you want to help others Change, you want to remember. The number of things you've forgotten of late makes you feel so hopelessly adrift. "We need to figure out what is causing the Change. That's the only way to address it properly. You might still be right that it's a temporary issue of stress, and I think a break from duties may be good for you. It may be a health issue, and I do hope you'll get a check up soon and let me know if there's any support you need from the House if the physician finds anything. I was also wondering if it might be…"

She's considering you uncertainly, and you feel a new wave of trepidation wash over you. "If it might be what?"

"I don't want to hurt you by asking," she says, immediately grimacing at herself. "Let me put it this way. You say you've only ever wanted to be a Housemaiden, but is that right?"

"…Yes?" you whisper.

"I don't mean to doubt you," she says, and you wait for her to continue because you don't know how that's supposed to be anything but doubt. "Euphrasie, I remember you being different from most Housemaidens because you made a major Change before formally becoming one. I remember you had a different name, and came from a different land, and converted from a different belief. But when I try to think of the details, I get the biggest crabbing headache." She smiles in an attempt at lightheartedness, but her brow is wrinkled with worry. "But I am getting older myself. Am I wrong? Were you always a Vaugardian, an adherent of Change?"

You open your mouth to say yes, of course you've always been, it's all you remember--

"Who were you before you came to this House?"

That's such an easy question, and you start over again to tell her.

And then you start again.

And again, and again, fresh tears spilling out of you as you start to tremble. Amandine squeezes your hand. "Forget I asked, Euphrasie. Please. Breathe. Please, I'm sorry--"

How can you forget? Now that you've glimpsed how vast and yawning the hole in your mind is, how can you forget? "I can't remember. I can't remember, I can't, oh Change, I'm broken--"

Amandine's hand leaves you briefly as she gets up from her chair and circles the desk to hug you. She has to bend down a little, with you still sitting, but not very far. She's on the shorter side, and you're rather tall. Why are you tall? You don't know. You don't know. You don't know why any part of you is the way it is. You grab onto her like you're drowning at sea.

She rubs a hand on your back, soothing, and waits for you to cry yourself out as if you're the child you can't remember ever being. The shoulder of her dress is thoroughly soaked by the time you run out of tears, still shuddering with horror. There's a headache raging through your skull. You slowly manage to open your arms and let her go, though you're relieved that she doesn't let go of you completely, keeping a steadying hand on one shoulder.

"I'm going to help you however I can," Amandine promises. "You started forgetting things about two months ago, didn't you?"

You have to think hard through the pounding headache, and your throat feels too dry to speak, but you manage a nod.

"That fits, then…Euphrasie, I think you're from the island that vanished two months ago."

#euphrasie #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #islander!euphrasie #STARTING THIS ANYWAY #I still gotta figure out what's going on with the people in the house

54 notes · View notes

twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 1 month

Note

Hey i really liked your headcanons for rooks family! I’ve been obsessed with the idea of his parents being hoarders and I was wondering if you had any more to add? If not that’s alright!🙏

Finally got to this, so sorry for the wait!!

Random HC's I Probably Overexplain - Rook Edition 1

TW: Hoarding (obviously), health issues, parentification of his older sister, dead (exotic) pet First things first, Rook is the youngest of seven. His mother has always been one who stays home, enjoying the art of taxidermy and studying the physiology of animals, where his father has always been more of a hunter. Like I mentioned in my Family HC's, Rook is very close with his mother, as she taught him to appreciate the sacrifice of death in order to sustain the circle of life. However, that 16 year gap between Rook and his siblings made her realize just how much stuff she had gotten rid of over the years that were testaments to her kids childhoods. As her kids started to move out and leave home, panic started to set in and she couldn't bring herself to get rid of any of their things that really, should have been thrown out. She tried to keep it all organized, but when her husband gently suggested they start going through it all, taking photos of what they didn't need, she broke down and refused, telling him it wasn't the same as having a physical copy of it all. Her husband backed down - after all, he was barely at home. He could deal with the mess for the few days he would stay home for the sake of the comfort of his wife, and his time out in the woods meant that his kids had another place to be as the house seemed to squeeze them out...even though that was the last thing his wife wanted.

Rook was a surprise, to say the least, but once his mother was pregnant with him, her nesting only went to 11 and it was the snapping point for one of the two kids still living at home. The elder of the two packed their bags, left a note tacked to one of her taxidermy animals, and went no contact, leaving their 16 year old sister and baby brother behind.

Rook's older sister couldn't bear the thought of Rook growing up in the environment her mother had made for him, and decided that at least until she was 18, she would stay and try to clean, as well as keep record of what the house used to look like so that maybe one day, she could restore it completely. However, when her mother caught her trying to clean the kitchen enough to try and cook, her mother broke down in tears. Her father told her that if she stressed her mother out too much, she would be solely responsible if the baby died. Because of this, she stopped cleaning, but vowed to stay to try and be a buffer for her brother, as well as get him his basic education if nothing else.

Postpartum depression ended up hitting Mrs. Hunt really hard, and once her husband confirmed his daughter was comfortable taking care of Rook for a few hours at a time, he spent his time trying to take care of his wife.

Rook and his sister ended up spending a lot of their time outside or in her room - which, she had finally been allowed to get rid of things she didn't want anymore as she was able to reason with her mother that the baby should at least have a cleaner area to crawl as he got older. This ended up being even more beneficial, as his crib was in her room and she became the primary caretaker for him. During this time, her parents were just trying to keep her mom from giving up on everything.

When Rook was about two, their mother finally tried to reach out to a company that would help her clean, however, because the family lived off the grid, they had some money, but not enough for the job that was required. Rook's sister gently volunteered to start cleaning, but at this point, her father had also gotten used to the "cozy" feeling of having his kid's belongings all around him and struggled with the idea of having anything change, especially as his wife was just starting to get better, he thought changing her environment wouldn't be beneficial for her.

So Rook's sister respected her parent's decision and continued trying to take care of Rook to the best of her ability, however, she did so outside as often as possible, so in the winter when she had to stay inside with him, they would both get incredibly ill from black mold exposure. Her parents wrote it off as a cold, so her tipping point was when he couldn't breathe, even when she wrapped him up and took him outside. She swaddled him as best she could and trekked on foot to the nearest town, knocked on the first door she could get to, and begged for assistance for him. The people in the home drove them both to the hospital, where he was treated for his symptoms, and she was treated for frostbite. Her dad ended up tracking them down, acting glad to see them, but on the way home reprimanded her for pretending to be Rook's parent and for not letting the family handle it themselves, and making sure she didn't tell anyone about the situation at home.

As Rook got older, his sister took on the responsibility of getting him into school, as well as teaching him how to hunt/fish and general survival skills, the way her father had taught her. This type of influence kinda snapped her dad out of his agoraphobia and he started trying to get more involved with Rook and raising him, still out of the house. When Rook was about nine, his sister and mom got into a huge argument, and her mother blamed her for being the reason she wasn't close with her son. Rook then de-escalated the situation by showing his mother he had been reading her old research journals. While it wasn't a lot, it was enough for his mom to get her workspace back. His sister helped her clean and organize that space to the best of her ability, his father started to hunt more often again, and his mother started to lead him through the importance of the circle of life. As balance started to seep back into their lives, his older sister started feeling more comfortable leaving Rook in the care of her parents and really get to start her own life. She still feels guilt for leaving, but she promised Rook to stay penpals and they did! She would regularly send him trinkets from her stays wherever she was, and often sent photos of her visiting with their other big siblings, telling him one day she would come back for him and bring him to see the rest of the world. That was all Rook had to hang on to as his parents started to spiral again now that another child had left the house.

When Rook was about 12, his father brought home a hyacinth macaw for him, (yes by unethical means, but you knew that), and he found it absolutely gorgeous. He loved that bird more than anything, so when it went missing one day, he was absolutely heartbroken. He ended up finding the poor bird weeks later, stuck behind some books on his mother's bookshelf. His mother saw it as an excellent opportunity to brighten up the home with a splash of colour by getting Rook to taxidermy his beloved pet. After that day, he decided pets were overrated - animals were meant for food, for study, or for trophies and that was it.

It's not that he doesn't have good memories of his parents, there were certainly really high highs, but there were also very low lows. His parents haven't gotten much better in the house they live in, and he's gone minimal contact with them. He's still trying to get over the feeling of abandonment his sister left him with, but doesn't blame her for leaving. Overall, talking about home and family is just painful for him, so he'd rather not. He likes to watch people because he fantasizes about what his life could have been like if he were in their shoes instead.

#wough this was longer than I thought it would be #tw abuse #tw neglect #twst #twst hcs #twst headcanons #disney twst #twst angst #twst rook #rook hunt #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland hcs #twisted wonderland headcanons #random hcs i probably overexplain #random hc's i probably overexplain #v talks #ask replies #hope this is okay sldkjfhlskdjf

27 notes · View notes

writingquestionsanswered · 10 months

Note

i’m not sure if this is something you can help with but i wondered if you had any advice for me,

basically whenever i try to write recently, i get somewhere between 50 to 1000 words in (which really isnt much by my standards) before i start to get extremely tired? i’m not sure why, and i am struggling to write because i just get exhausted instantly

Becoming Exhausted When Writing

It's really not uncommon for writers to experience physical exhaustion when writing--sometimes after only a short period of time. Here are some of the reasons this happens and some tips for how to deal with it. :)

1 - Mental Exhaustion = Physical Exhaustion - The brain is an organ, not a muscle, but it behaves a lot like a muscle in that it gets stronger with "exercise" and can become fatigued with overuse. Writing is kind of like doing a cardio session for your brain. The creative load requires your brain to work really hard and expend a lot of energy, so the bigger that creative load, the faster you're going to feel tired. If you think of unwritten stories as untamed jungles, some writers can be plunked into the middle of the thick vegetation, without a map or resources, and machete a straight path back to civilization. Many of us can't do that, though. We machete circles through the jungle, lost and bewildered, hungry and dehydrated, exhausted and mosquito-bitten--and that's exhausting. So, if you find yourself becoming quickly exhausted when you sit down to write, it's worth considering how much of a creative load you're putting on your brain. If it's not an issue of what to write and where the story is going, something else is going on. For example, if you've had a taxing brain day before you even sit down to write, your remaining energy will vanish fast. But, if you find yourself wandering in circles through your story, you may just need to do some better planning. Having a "map" through your story and heading into the story jungle with resources ready can make a big difference.

2 - Actual Physical Exhaustion - Sometimes the problem isn't with our brains but with our bodies. Lack of sleep, health issues, busy days, mild dehydration, and life stress are all things that can contribute to physical exhaustion that makes us feel sleepy when we write. Some solutions: make sure you get enough sleep or try taking a power nap before you write. Exercise or taking a walk before you write can give you an energy boost, too. Drink some water, coffee, or an energizing smoothie before you write. If you're under life stress, try meditating or taking a refreshing shower before you write.

3 - Creative Stress - Millions of years of evolution have led our brains to be wired to avoid things that are stressful because they might be dangerous. Originally, this was to help us stay physically safe. If you knew there might be lions down a particular path, the thought of going down that path would be stressful, so your brain would say, "Nope, don't go that way." It works the same way with writing. If writing feels stressful to you--maybe because you're not sure what to write or are giving yourself a hard time about not making word counts or deadlines--your brain perceives writing as a threat and says, "Nope, don't go that way." This causes your "fight or flight" response to kick in when you start writing. That might manifest as your inner critic, distracting yourself, or experiencing writer's block. Pushing forward anyway can create even more stress, and that's when you start to feel exhausted. The best way to deal with this is to make writing as stress-free as you possibly can so your brain doesn't perceive it as a threat. Make sure you know where your story is going and what you need to write during each writing session, whether that means just thinking about it ahead of time or planning it out. Don't give yourself a hard time for not meeting word counts or deadlines, and don't even strive toward those (unless you have to) if they cause you undue stress. Instead, try setting small, attainable goals and reward yourself for reaching them. For example, instead of trying trying to hit a particular word count, try to write for ten minutes each day. If that's not a problem, go for twenty and so on. Set your goal just a few minutes above what you know you can hit. Then, raise it accordingly. Also, try setting up a writing routine and making sure you have a comfortable, inviting place to write if possible. Taking a walk, shower, or meditating before you write can help here, too.

I hope that helps! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Learn more about WQA

Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

107 notes · View notes

chairteeth · 7 months

Text

"The Many Masks of Touka Satomi"

So I actually wanted to refine this certified word vomit of mine before I put it anywhere buuuut I figured this would be a good time to let it out of its containment zone. This is essentially me overthinking the crap out of everything ever and coming out of it with this interpretation of Touka in particular. Informal essay under the cut! It will have extra tangents! And I blend a bit of what we were shown in the anime into my interpretation, but this is game canon.

Whenever Touka is discussed, the words "child", "immature", "selfish", and "arrogant" are the ones most often thrown around. There is usually not much more discussion after that. Well, I'm not here to say it's wrong, it's correct for the most part, I'm just here to draw attention to the fact that there's so much more to her than meets the eye. So, hear me out, if you would.

Touka's levels of vulnerability in the Magius era. That's already interesting by virtue of it being the Magius era. That's a really interesting era. Ui was what brought Touka and Nemu together and Ui was the cornerstone of their relationship for a while, so losing that RETROACTIVELY kinda makes you wonder exactly what their memories of the hospital era became. How exactly the two of them met, became friends, came to share a room, etc. Because the quotes are from their Magius selves and so we know they very much remember being roommates for a long time and still consider each other reliable and trustworthy (also the entirety of Nemu's swimsuit costume story which spawns many questions when you stop to think about it but I will touch on that some other time). We know that in reality, the hospital trio began to share a room after Touka, in her infinite princess behavior, asked her dad to put all three of them in the same room because it was annoying to walk between the rooms so often (source: TouNemu Christmas alt quotes). Interesting choice on her part back then considering she seemingly wanted Nemu out of the way, but I will touch on that another time because the hospital era has its own analysis.

Okay then, let's talk about Touka's role as a Magius. A leader. One who shoulders the burdens of the many. She willingly exposed herself to the weight of a whole people's sorrow, pain, grief, anger. And then she chose to lead them. To avenge them. It may not have started that way but it sure as heck got there at some point (thank you anime for helping out with this point). Now, I want to stop here for a moment and remind everyone that during Arc 1, Touka was 11 to 12 years old (as per the JP script, she is 12 by the end of it). Not only that, but if you pay attention, you'll notice the stress of Nemu's declining health is killing her. Nemu is quite literally the only person Magius Touka shows genuine concern for. This one person she cares about more than anyone else, slowly dying for the plan. For the cause. And as the sort of "main leader", Touka can't back down. She just can't. It would be not only a betrayal to "her people", but also to the one closest to her, the one who has arguably sacrificed the most for their salvation. So then, with someone as full of herself as Touka, someone seemingly so arrogant... What about her own health and wellbeing? What about her own sense of self? Because I have a feeling she doesn't really have one.

The way she always emphasizes the genius aspect of herself and even uses it as an excuse and brings it up so often feels like that's all she sees herself as. Nemu gives, yes. Nemu has similar issues. But hers are much, much more obvious. Less concealed. Touka gives without measure, without the slightest care for herself. She's selfish and at the same time one of the most selfless characters. There's also the interpretation that, at their very core, Touka and Nemu both just wanted to live. But I feel like that was only at the beginning. If that was all there was to it, the plan would not have continued with Nemu's life at risk, Touka would not put herself in the line of fire. Essentially, Touka has taken on way, way too much responsibility, as well as crafting several masks. Don't forget, just like every other magical girl, she led a double life the entire time, and she financed a lot of the cult's operations. Though I don't have any doubt many of the richer members contributed to the budget with their ridiculous allowances that they do not use.

Touka had to hide from everyone. She couldn't show her true self to anyone. Not her father who loves her so deeply, not anyone else in her civilian life, not her subordinates, Alina is not the most warm and welcoming to be around... so her only option is Nemu. That's comfortable. That's familiar. But. Then there are the many, many feelings she has about Nemu. It's, complicated you see. Touka feels many ways about Nemu. For starters, if their memory of Ui is gone, it means all of the warmth and kindness Ui had must've taken another form, which explains the difference in their bond, how they seem so much... closer, as Magius. Either way, even back then, Nemu is the only one who would understand. Touka Satomi is an actress. Everywhere else is her stage, and Nemu is backstage. So, Touka can only ever be truly 100% vulnerable with Nemu. Yet she still didn't do it. I don't think Magius Touka ever really fully 100% relied on Nemu. She may have wanted to, and she does call her reliable in her quotes. But well, with Nemu's health getting worse and worse, she may have come to the conclusion that it would be for the best (health-wise) if Nemu didn't have to share her burden.

However, Nemu's declining health also brought something else. Touka took on another role: the protector. Nemu is practically helpless during the mid to late Magius era. Not completely helpless, she's still a strong magical girl, mind you, but could drop or have an attack at any time. We see this multiple times such as in Mifuyu's MGS, her own MGS, and she even has what is basically a stroke during Arc 1 Chapter 8, 4:02:36 - 4:03:43 in the video if you want to take a listen (I have a Magius Nemu essay in the works, don't you fret). Therefore, Touka has to be alert and ready to respond immediately. Which I think is why we see more of Alina outside than Touka. Touka lingers around where Nemu is and only hesitantly hands her over to Alina or Mifuyu when she absolutely must. Other than the sheer pain of watching Nemu bleed herself dry and being unable to do anything about it, not because she physically can't, but because she can't in a different sense... she also can't revert things back to the way they were, for all of her genius and medical knowledge she can't help Nemu, she can't help her best friend feel even a little better. This leads us to the undeniable fact that Touka is very, very unstable and volatile as a Magius. That's not the impression she first gives at all, of course.

Arc 1 Chapter 6 is where we first meet Magius Touka. She's calm, with a cold cheerfulness to her, calculated. Most importantly, I feel like the reason she was the one doing the lecture instead of literally just sending Mifuyu was because she recognized Team Mikazuki as a possible threat and specifically did not like Iroha, which was also why she lied. The one and only thing Touka lied about in her lecture: Iroha asked where Nemu was, Touka said they parted ways after being discharged. Blatant gigantic lie. And seriously, the only reason she'd have to lie about that and in that specific way would be to protect Nemu. At that point, Iroha and her team have wiped out a handful of uwasa, so she must have known. But yes, this is not at all how she really feels or what she really thinks. This is just another mask (I will talk about Touka's plastic smile and Nemu's poker face ANOTHER TIME). Because she needs to nip any aspirations Iroha may have in the bud, hopefully recruit more Feathers, and neutralize the threat that is Team Mikazuki.

What happens just as she's starting to go off the deep end? How convenient, it seems Yachiyo and Iroha have spent a good amount of their time destroying uwasa, thus wasting Nemu's repeated sacrifices, and forcing her to make more in order to meet their energy quota. Honestly, who wouldn't be losing it, at that point? So close to salvation, so close to freedom, so close to being done. And they're ruining not only the plan but also everything it means for her and the person she loves most. When you really think about it, Touka's mental health was, forgive the crude language, IN DEEP SHIT throughout Arc 1. Not that it was great before or that it improved too much after, but yeah, I do believe people do not give this enough thought.

Finally, with all of this in mind, as for the topic of this rant being Touka's levels of vulnerability as a Magius... There were none. She had no choice. At first it was fine. At first, before the gears turned too fast to stop, she could deal with it. She could confide in Nemu, even a little bit in Alina or Mifuyu (though not much), but it got worse and worse. Mifuyu was clearly blind to all of this the entire time (she, much like everyone other than Touka, didn't seem to care that Nemu had to give up her life force for each uwasa, and if you disagree I will point out the scene at the end of Mifuyu's MGS as one of my more than five pieces of evidence). Alina likely didn't care enough, and Nemu was probably too exhausted, although the concern must've been there. In summary, Magius Touka stands alone in her mind, and with her mind. Arc 1 was practically a descent into madness for her. When you start thinking about things from Touka's perspective, you start to see how abysmal her mental health was.

As part of my conclusion I'd like to say that honestly, it makes sense why she gave off the feeling of being lost for a decent chunk of... everything after Arc 1. What is she supposed to do without a purpose? What is she supposed to do without anything or anyone to tell her what she is and who she is? Not to mention the fucking ton of bricks to her face that must've been getting her memories back. I do not know how she didn't break. I legitimately do not know how she survived. During that little "lost" stage she had, I got the feeling she'd relapse back to her suicidal tendencies. It was... less "a feeling" and more "exactly what canon did", it's just slightly (badly) disguised.

ANYWAY. What I mean is that the children are complex and I ask everyone to have more respect and more compassion for them. I will be back with more about the performer and her backstage, hopefully in a more organized format.

#nishiposting #magia record #touka satomi #she's a baby cactus sir #idk if I should tag anything or anyone else?#uhhh #essay #yeah sure that'll do so I can find them later

70 notes · View notes

ollie-supports · 5 days

Text

hello all! below the line i am going to explain my hiatus, tw for death, mental illness, neglect, heart problems, psych ward mention, and school issues. i will be returning today! please take care of yourself if you can't handle any of these topics, your health matters!🌸

so, to start off, my grandmother died. her name was bunny and she was the most wonderful person! she had an aneurysm about to explode, so she took a voluntary surgery to get rid of it and reduce the pain. she did not have to get this surgery because it wouldve been done when it blew, but it would have improved her quality of life. as they tried to put in a tube to regain bloodflow, all the tissue basically crumbled. they had to sacrifice a kidney, but her other worked just fine. she was on lots of machines, and when she only had 2 days left until discharge, she demanded for us to pull the plug. she would have survived. her quality of life wouldve skyrocketed. she just needed to wait 2 more days on her machines, which wouldve been painless had she accepted painkillers. i watched her die. i held her hand, taking comfort in its warmth. it got so cold so fast when she died. i threw up only 3 seconds after i felt her go cold. i had never truly understood dead weight until then. she survived off of her machines for 6 hours. i spent every second by her side, holding her hand. i heard her death rattles. i watched her stats decline. when the painkillers made me pass out, i saw the little girl in her right before she died. the little girl she used to be, who thought she'd never die.

my mental state severely deteriorated. we had to sell her house, the house my uncles lived in to stay closer to us. my uncles now live much farther away, and they were my only safe space. i have been severely neglected my whole life, and as im writing this i am in debilitating pain from how hungry i am. my parents have enough money to feed me. they just dont. my parents have ignored me my whole life.

this affected school. i was a straight A student, getting a 4.0 gpa easily. i failed every class this trimester. i may be held back.

the stress from all of this has severely impacted my heart problems, giving me longer and worse episodes. i have nearly died 3 times now because my heart problems induced a heart attack. ive died once and was resuscitated. my dosage for my antidepressants has been tripled, its the only way to prevent me from yet another psych ward visit, in which i would have to go to a long term facility.

please be patient with me. im trying my best, i promise.

#🌸.•°○ ollie's rambles ○°●.🌸#pro transid #pro transx #radqueers please interact #transid please interact #vent #rq 🌈🍓#rq community #transx #transid #radqueer

20 notes · View notes

wifflum · 5 days

Text

Video games that suck and why they suck

Dark Souls spawned a wonderful genre with an excellent, new (besides Demon's Souls), combat system that has been improved to have everything you could think of asking for, by games like Stellar Blade. Dark Souls, even though it was first, however, sucks. Here's why it sucks.

Dark Souls was made by a self-proclaimed masochist who said, about the game, "these are ways I would like to die," and then set the entire game design team to the objective of killing the player at every opportunity. It's like hostile architecture as a video game. The game is trying to kill you at almost every step, but it had this amazing new combat system, so that was tolerated. Now the blind sheep that are the masses worship it.

Elden Ring and Sekiro, on the other hand, did not have this incredibly sadistic touch to them, and are far more fun to actually play. And these trainwrecks who love Dark Souls would say it's a skill issue, to not enjoy crawling your way to the next death spot like it's progression in Final Fantasy XIV raids only through a fu**ing level, let alone the boss fights, and would blame the victim of literal and admitted game design sadism.

Red Dead Redemption, Spiderman, God of War, and also Grand Theft Auto (at least the campaign) and Uncharted-- all of these games also suck. This is because they are not made with gameplay in mind, because the target audience hardly gives a sh** about gameplay and just wants an interactive movie. They are, as a popular and often contrarian video game critic put it, "ghost train rides". They are theme park attractions that are purely there to entertain from a distance, and not really to be interacted with like you would expect from a video game. Gameplay is secondary, and it's often almost tertiary it's so far from being considered important. That is why these games suck.

----------------------------

Another somewhat extensive area for video games to suck in, is the Fallout and Elder Scrolls type of games. These games, instead of making story so fu**ing primary that gameplay, the whole point of video games existing at all, is ignored, do the exact same thing with their open-worlds and RPG mechanics. Just imagine a turn-based game like Final Fantasy 7, only the gameplay that can actually kind of stand on its own is actually gameplay that sucks co** and could never stand on its own.

----------------------------

I play video games for combat. To have fun and display skill. Everything else is set dressing for that one primary thing, and games that suck either intentionally obstruct fun combat, like Dark Souls does, or might as well not even include it it's so bad.

-----------------------------

Some other games that suck are fighting games, because in order to get your ration of 3 seconds of neutral game per match, which might be pretty good but in my experience isn't anything to write to my girlfriend in jail about, you have to spend 8 million hours mastering filler moves that waste both players time and just drop the health bars to what they might as well be at the start, which is 3 hits until death.

Tactical RPGs are not that bad, I don't think, but dear God are they stressful sometimes. It's also slow and can get tiresome unless you personally are slow and tired and prefer that pace over action games.

First Person Shooters need defense options other than fu**ing sprint or better offense (throwing a flashbang is an offense action, as is laying a mine) for every situation, which Remnant: From the Ashes really put in sharp relief.

MOBAs, like League of Legends, need to be done differently rather than copying a game that had a barely passing grade on its combat system (DOTA 1 on Warcraft 3) because it took it from an strategy game where you're supposed to be spending 3/4 of your time managing your base and resources and only fighting a small portion of the time. Battleborn actually showed what MOBAs are capable of to some degree, although it didn't have dodges or anything, but got overshadowed by Overwatch which everyone either immediately regretted or regrets now since Overwatch is agony to play.

One game that largely sucked but did not entirely suck, contrary to what everyone and their goldfish will tell you, was Anthem. At one point it had a triple jump, triple dodge, comboing melee character that could frontflip into sniping something in the head or spraying it with submachine gun fire. Yes, that was motherfu**ing Anthem that had that, in the Interceptor Javelin, though the people in the other Javelins did not look to be having much fun.

The last games that suck, which I think everyone largely knows they suck, are Ubisoft games. Now Far Cry isn't that bad, because it still has a reasonable focus on gameplay, but Assassin's Creed games have combat that is almost as ass as Rockstar games' gameplay.

Just, all you have to do, lol, is take some reasonable approximation of soulslike combat, with an actual functional deflect if you include one, unlike Rise of the Ronin, and do whatever your little gimmick is on top of that. People will fall over themselves saying how amazing it is. Just make ACCEPTABLE gameplay with whatever your horsesh** is that your audience of nitwits loves, and it will be something as if from an advanced society in the future.

Although, I personally think the window for that is closing and it wouldn't be jaw-dropping anymore, with soulslikes branching out so much. All we really need now is a soulslike MMO and that'll be the kitchen sink, and I think it's rapidly approaching. All I would ask of someone doing that is that you model the PvP after Guild Wars 1 Random Arenas, and you'd have to study that pretty extensively because there's a lot of nuance that made it so good, but it was namely an extreme difficulty to combat, like you'd get from a PvE game set to Insanity difficulty, somehow enveloping the PvP experience.

----------------------

Anyway, that's how video games of today almost all suck. And it's because they're not really video games; they're either like a simulation of something, traveling or getting stronger, or just straight-up a movie, with video gameyness slapped onto the side like a sticker, with about as much effort put into the application. The games that are good, as video games and not interactive media, which is what a lot of these things should be distinguished as, ask the user to display skill and they make that display enjoyable and varied. There's a million ways to screw up the execution of that design or to excel at it, but only a few games even set that objective of good combat as an actual goal.

But, if it makes makes money it's fine how it is, fu** foresight and artistic integrity, and we must all keep churning out pig slop to the pigs.

#dark souls #battleborn #overwatch 2 #red dead redemption #spiderman #call of duty #remnant from the ashes #league of legends #warcraft 3 #dota 2 #god of war #elden ring #sekiro #fromsoftware #game design #hidetaka miyazaki #anthem #video games

19 notes · View notes

writing-with-emy · 10 months

Note

Tw: sh

Idk if you’d be comfortable writing this (if you are not, no worries) but i was just wondering if you would write a poguesxf!reader where the reader comes off as a really happy and genuine person but is secretly struggling with self harm and is cutting herself and the pogues find out or see blood or something and she tries to play it off as nothing but they figure it out and convince her that she’s not a burden and then they all help her get help/get better in their own ways? Again if you’re not comfortable that’s totally fine, I know it’s heavy stuff.

FOREVER WINTER - Pogues x F!Reader

OBX MASTERLIST | PROMPTS | Requests are open!

Shipping: Pogues x F!Reader (platonic) Summary: Above in the request! Word counts: 3.880 words Warnings: explicit content and mentions of self harm, depression, suicidal Thoughts, self-hatred, swear words, mentions of drinking

A/N: Please do not read it if you struggle with something of the above, if you do read it, please keep in mind that you are loved and wanted! YOU ARE ENOUGH! I have put some Numbers under the Imagine if you want/need them. if you know someone who struggles with this or any other mental health issue, please be there for them, they need them and check on your loved ones you never know what there going through right at given moment. And as always, feel open to correct when/if you see writing/grammar mistakes! (Not part of the Eras festival!)

„That’s definitely not true.“, you Heard the voice of Pope going through the whole chateau. „Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia.“, JJ threw back at Pope, like it was obviously the best and most reliable source of the Internet. The rest of it was blended out because of the Major Headache you got, maybe you shouldn‘t have drank so much last night at the bonfire party.

You let out an unidentified sound and tried to hide from the sun who shines into the window of yours and JJs room you sometimes shared at John B's place. You put a pillow on your face trying to make it darker, but that doesn‘t help to blend out the laughter coming from the living room. You were still wearing your sweater from last night, better to say you still wore your whole outfit from last night, but the sweater was the important part of it, it was your try to hide the wounds that came to your arm two nights prior. You‘ve been struggling with your mental health for quite a while actually, but your friends didn‘t need to know that. They didn‘t need to know, that your parents, who just were freshly separated, gave you a shit ton of stress because of your friends who weren‘t Kooks or that your grades started to go down or people like Rafe Cameron and his friends who loves to give a lot of shitty remarks on the way you dress or look because you were hanging with the Pogues. No, they didn‘t need to know that and to be fair as much as you tried to talk you into the mindset that it was just a phase of feeling shitty, the wanting of actually ending everything came way more often from day to day. Way more often than you wanted to admit Because you just felt like a burden to everyone and everything.

You had no Idea how long you laid in bed after you woke up, but once you heard the door open you turned to it and saw JJ coming in. „Hey there sleeping beauty, finally awake?“, he asked, walking to the dresser. „I‘ve been for a while.“, you said, forcing a smile and furrowing your brows together because of the headache. „What got a headache?“, he asked seeing your forced smile and the together furrowed brows You just nodded, laying your head against the Pillows. „Well, I don‘t like saying it but, I told you not to drink so much, so.. I told you so.“. He said, smirking. „Just shut up, you‘re the reason I‘m even awake.“, you said laughing slightly. „You didn‘t just say that.“ he gasped, putting a hand on his chest. „Yes I did, what do you wanna do about it?“, you asked, grinning slyly at him. What you didn‘t expect was him taking your pillow and throwing it in your face. „Are you serious?“, you grumbled under the pillow. „Yes.“, he said and you didn‘t even need to look to know he has his shit eating grin on looking at you. You took your pillow, throwing it back in his face, before sitting up hearing your stomach grumble. „I‘m gonna grab something to eat, do whatever you wanted to do when you came in.“, you said, getting up from the bed and going out.

When you came Into the living room you saw John B, Kie and Pope together on the couch talking. John B waa the first to notice you. „Hey, she is awake!“, raising his Coca Cola Can in the air. „Ayyy.“, Pope and Kie said, raising theirs.

You wanted to say something but your stomach came first and grumbled loudly which made everyone laugh.

„I‘m gonna grab something to eat, and then I‘m right back.“, you said smiling, before going to the kitchen. You made yourself some toast with whatever was left over and grabbed yourself a Can of Coca Cola. „So what were you guys talking about earlier?“, you asked, throwing yourself next to Kie. „Oh, JJ just told us a stupid fact about Phineas and Ferb which wasn‘t true.“, Pope said. You just nodded while taking a bite from your toast. „Why are you still wearing the stuff from last night?“, Kie changed the subject. „Oh.. I just forgot to bring clothes to change into, I‘m just gonna drive home later to change and shower before coming back.“, you said, hoping they would believe you. You knew you could always borrow something from John B since he lives here and even from JJ because half of his clothes are here. „Why didn‘t you ask? I could‘ve given you some spare clothes for the night.“, John B stated something you already knew. „I know I just was probably too drunk to think about that.“, you said, giving John B your best smile you could spare right now.

He let it be because pope stated that you were actually really drunk last night, more than usual.

–

A few hours later you came home, hoping that your mother wasn‘t home right now, but to your luck she was.

„Where were you last night, I told you to come straight home after the Bonfire.“, she said, trying to keep calm but slightly failing at it. You knew when your mom was angry, nostrils flared, eyes wide with anger and her cheeks had a slight tone of red which wasn‘t cursed because of her rouge she normally wore. „I slept over at some friends house, I was too drunk to drive and I forget to text you I‘m sorry.“, you knew you didn‘t need to say their names, she already knew where you were so no need to lying, at least that would take away some steam, telling the truth was better than lying to her in those kind of situations. „And were your so-called friends the reason you drank so much?“, she asked, putting quote marks to the “friends” parts. „No I wanted it myself, they tried to stop me even but I didn‘t let them.“, you knew whatever you say, she wouldn‘t believe you when it came to the Pogues,

But to your surprise she just nodded.

„You're grounded for the next two weeks, no Pogues, no drinking and no phone.“, she said, putting her hand out. You turned off your phone before giving it to her. „Now, up to your room, and take a shower you smell like a whole bar of old drunk man.“, she said, scrunching her nose in disgust. You nodded walking up the stairs to your room.

You took off all your clothes, throwing them in your laundry basket, before taking new stuff out and going into your bathroom. You turn the Water on steaming hot before going in and let the heat relax your muscles. You laid your head back letting the hot water hit your face trying to calm your haughty who are spiraling right now. When you looked down you saw your cuts which are starting to heal, the crust on them in a dark red–brownish color the feeling and wanting to cut again coming back up. You finish your shower quickly, before heading out and putting a white towel around your body. Back in your room you sit on your bed, thinking but before you knew it you had a new blade in your hand while standing in your bathroom. The door behind you was closed and locked so your mom couldn‘t come in, you turned the shower on again so she wouldn’t hear you.

And there you were standing in front of your mirror just blankly staring at yourself in your towel with still damp hair, the short time outside nearly drying your hair since today was a really hot day in the outer banks. You knew your friends wanted to look for fish and go swimming out with the boat, but you couldn't resist the urge no matter how hard you tried.

(A/N: I give you the chance of skipping this part because is getting more explicit here with the self harm, so feel free to skip <3)

You just stared and the thoughts came rushing in your head. They don‘t want you. You are just a burden. You are a burden for your family, your friends and the people around you. You are just a piece of shit. You are worth nothing. You are not worthy of love. Do you really think your parents love you? You are.. You.. ..

You couldn‘t bear it anymore, you just grabbed the blade and set the first cut, then the second and the third. You just started going wild, and after you could see the one arm not anymore because of the blood, you started on the other arm, just going absolutely feral like a wild animal trying to kill its prey. You didn‘t even notice that you started crying while doing it, you stopped when your other arm was also full with your own blood.

(A/N: It’s over here, I didn‘t wanted it to Long )

You let the razor blade fall into the sink, breaking down crying not realizing that your blood is dripping in the sink, on the floor and on your towel which you have to throw away later. You just cried, cried because you felt unworthy of anything, friends, love, parents, anything that is normal in someone’s life. And it was triggered just by the little argument with your mom, what you couldn‘t even call that. You had no Idea how long you sat on the bathroom floor crying, but once you calmed down, you got up, you washed your arms free from the blood, the water slightly burning in your fresh wounds, but you tried to make no noise. Before you did anything else, you grabbed your first aid kit from your bathroom cabinet and put bandages around your arms, firmly enough to hopefully stop the bleeding. You changed in your room, you just throw on some shorts, a shirt and a new sweater, before putting on your shoes and throwing some spare clothes in a backpack and climbing out of your window, you had luck that under your window was the roof of the Garage and that your Mom hadn‘t took away your car keys.

Once you got into your car you turned the engines on and drove away. You saw your mom running out, yelling at you from the rearview mirror but you turned on your radio and drove to the Chateau. Was it stupid? Yes. Would you be in more trouble afterwards? Yes. Did you care right now? Absolutely fucking not.

–

The engine turned off once you turned the key, the radio dying instantly, you watched your friends getting the boat ready for a little trip like usual. You just sit there quietly, thinking if you really wanted to go with them, or if you would just be a burden for them? You took a deep breath before mumbling under your breath „fuck it.“, you took your backpack and got out of your car, walking towards them.

„Hey she is back!“ JJ yelled, with two fishing rods in his hands. „Yeah, and guess who is grounded for two weeks?“, you grinned at him. „And then you are here?“, Pope asked. „Well, I don‘t really care. I mean she can‘t contact me, while she is the one who has my phone.“, you laughed. „That’s my girl.“, JJ grinned, giving Pope the Rods before putting an arm around your shoulders. „Well, looks like I have another guest for those two weeks.“, John B said, putting the buckets down. „I‘m just bringing my Backpack in and then I‘m right back outside.“, you said, wending out of JJs arm, going Inside, throwing your backpack on the bed.

–

Like 15 minutes later you guys were on the way to a place where the water would be deep enough to swim and to fish, once you guys found the place, you stopped the boat and let the anchor down.

After a while you had now Idea how much time is passing by, you just realized the sun is slowly starting to settle down, while laughing absolutely hard at one or JJs stupid Jokes, you had funny and actually forget what Made broke down earlier, actually you had pushed those memories and feelings so far back in your brain, that you forgot that you had bandages around both of your underarms when you rolled up your sleeves. You were at first confused as to why everyone quieted down, but when you looked at your arms, you remembered what you did early and faster put them down again looking at every single one of your friends who just stared at you.

„Y/N..“, Pope started. „Yeah?“, you asked like nothing happened. „Why Did you have bandages around your arms?“, kie asked straightly. „What?“, you tried to act innocent, not to let anything shine through. „You know what we mean.“ John B said. „Nope.“, you said while sipping your drink.

And that started an argument about why you have bandages around your underarms.

„Y/N, come on, you can tell us when something is going on.“, JJ said. „Nothing is going on, I had an accident.. that’s all.“, you said, shrugging with your shoulders. „An accident on both of your arms?“, Pope asked, not believing a single word you just said. „Yep.“, you nodded, trying to not let your eyes get watery.

They stared at you again for some time, just in pure disbelief you would lie them blankly in the face.

„I‘m okay guys, it‘s nothing.“. You tried laughing it off. „Stop telling us that you‘re okay, when you‘re clearly not.“, Throwed JJ in getting mad at the fact that you kept your problems away from them.

You just kept quiet looking away, trying to hold in your tears that started brimming in your eyes.

„You know what, you don‘t need to tell us anything..yet. We can just sit here, it's okay.“, Kie said, putting a hand on your shoulder. „But we can‘t help you, if you don‘t let us.“, Pope said, coming to your other side putting a hand on your other shoulder. „I know.. I just don‘t want to cry.. I feel.. Fuck, I feel so stupid for crying.“, you said looking up in the sky, still tryongnto hold those tears in. „Hey.. It‘s Okay to cry.“, John B said, squatting down in front of you, turning and holding your face in his hands so you look at him. „It‘s okay.“, he said, looking you in the eyes. „They‘re right Y/N, all of them.“, JJ said, squatting down next to John B.

You nodded, finally letting your tears break out. The four of them started hugging you in a big hug, all of them embracing you in a hug full of love, a hug that feels like comfort and Home. Once you let go of them, and they let go of you, you told them everything, what’s been going on, the remarks of rafe that were worsened when your friends weren‘t with you, the divorce of your parents plus them hating on your friends and very little else.

„Why didn‘t you tell us that earlier?“, Kie asked. „I didn‘t wanted to be a burden, which I probably am right now, I didn‘t wanted you to put all that on you, especially at the start of the divorce of my parents, I just fell into that habit of hurting myself, when I came home it just was the worst I have ever been with this feeling, I didn‘t even realized, that I was doing it so much and so fast, I just wanted to quiet down my thoughts. I wanted to drain them out and not feel anything..“, you explain to them. „You aren‘t a burden, who told you that.“, John B stated. „Well, I actually heard my Mom say it on the phone while the divorce was still going on. She was discussing it with my father who would keep me. They talked about me like I was an object and not a person.“, you said, staring at your hands.

You didn‘t have to look to know that everyone was looking at you with pitying faces.

„You aren‘t a burden, your mom is fucking stupid to say stuff like this, she doesn‘t deserve you.“, JJ said standing up. You looked at him while everyone said his name in shock. „No he is right..“, you started. „But I don‘t really want to talk about it anymore.. can we switch the theme?“, you asked, drying your eyes with the arms of your sweater.

–

When you were back at the Chateau, you felt someone putting their arm around your shoulders.

„Don‘t worry, we‘re getting you away from that, and out of that dark hole.“, Kie said, going next to you. „Yeah definitely, we‘re gonna kick their asses.“, JJ said, coming next to you with a bucket full of fish. „Thank you guys, you really make me feel safe.“, you said with a light smile. „Yep, and we aren‘t going anywhere anytime soon.“, Pope said, while JJ put his arm around your waist. „Right, and you‘re gonna stay here as long as you need to. See the chateau as your clinic now, and we are doctors and nurses to help you.“, John B said, walking in front of you guys with the other bucket in hand. „I don‘t know if I want JJ as my Doctor or my nurse.“, you said jokingly. „Hey, what does that mean?“he asked, offended. „I think I would be a great nurse or a doctor.“, he started trying to walk past you, Kie and pope, tripping and nearly falling on his face in the process. „Try to learn to walk straight first.“, you said a grin slipping its way on your Lips.

–

„Hey what’s wrong, pretty face?“, JJ asked, sitting down next to you. „I don‘t know if I‘m doing the right thing, whilst staying away from my mom and stuff you know..“, you said.

The two weeks where you normally would’ve been grounded, past way two fast, it’s the beginning of week three, and you actually didn‘t harm yourself in those three weeks. Well, nearly, you tried it a few times secretly, but you were always stopped luckily.

„You‘re doing the right thing.“, JJ said, putting an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. „Then why does it feel so wrong to me.?“, you asked, leaning against him and putting your head on his shoulder. „Well, you Mom expected you to live after her and do everything to make her happy and be at her standards, but right now you‘re focusing on you and not her, that’s probably why.“, he said, drawing little things on your shoulder while leaning his head against yours. „Can we like, I don‘t know cuddle for a bit? I just want to be close to someone for a little bit. Is that okay?“, you asked JJ, looking up at him. „Yeah totally.“, he said.

You both lie down on the bed you're sitting on to cuddle, which actually helped with the way you were feeling.

–

Today was a bad day, a very bad day. You were out with the Pogues like you were for the last few weeks, the last Month you and the Pogues went out nearly every single day and today was not different. You either went to the Wreck, to the beach to surf, out on the boat, or just drove around in the Twinkie even in the middle of the night.

All those things actually helped get you away from your thoughts, well it went well until today. You didn‘t know what was wrong, but today just fell off even though you were excited, because today was a Little movie show near the beach, and you guys decided to go there and watch the movie, that was until Rafe Cameron needed to make a remark. You tried to ignore it, but when he and his friends started laughing, you couldn't bear it and just ran away. You didn‘t make it war away, just war enough to hide between the cars at the Twinkie.

You started crying once you were alone, that just sat you off and ruined it.

„Hey.. Hey..“, you Heard John B coming towards you, before sitting next to you on the floor and pulling you against his chest. „It‘s okay, you‘re okay.“, he said, straddling your head. „I‘m sorry, I didn‘t want to ruin it. I tried to be strong, but I just couldn‘t once they laughed. I‘m so so sorry that I‘m so fucking weak and need to cry..“, you croaked against his chest. „Hey don‘t say that.. This? These tears are not a weakness. This right now is not a weakness.. This all shows how strong you are and how strong you‘ve been. And when you‘re done, look back and know that you were strong enough to overcome what you once thought to be impossible, alright?a, he asked, holding your face in his hands.

You just nodded sniffling. He gave you a kiss on your forehead before pulling you again against his chest.

„Did you really need to punch him in the face JJ?“, Popes' voice was heard. „Yes.“, the speaker answered. „Well, This whole thing sucked, so let’s just go home and watch a movie there.“, Kie said looking at you and John B, who now were sitting in the open twinkie. „Yeah let’s do that.“, you said, giving them a little smile.

Back at the chateau, you guys watched some old movie that John B had there. You were sitting next to JJ, when you looked at him shortly, before putting your head on his shoulder.

„Thank you for Punching Rafe.“, you whispered. „No need to thank me.“, he whispered back. You just smile softly for yourself.

–

A few months later, you started to stay just for a few days at your mothers since her house doesn‘t really feel like a home anymore. To your surprise she couldn‘t care less, a few months ago you would‘ve cried about that fact, but since you way over that because of your friends that are your family now, you also couldn‘t care less. Today you were back at the chateau, drinking and having fun with your friends, when something came to your mind.

„I never said, 'Thank you‘, did I?“, you said out of nowhere. „For what?“, John B asked, with everybody agreeing. „For.. Well.. Everything you did for me the past few months.“, you said smiling looking at every single one of them. „You don‘t need to thank us for that.“, Kie said. „Yeah, that‘s what friends are there for.“, Pope said. „No.“, JJ said, getting everyone off guard. „What?“, everyone said in sync. „We are not friends, we are a family. That‘s what a family is there for.“, he said standing up looking in your eyes.

Smiling, you stand up with JJ raising your Can Beer in the air.

„On us and all the years in the future we hopefully stay like this. Cheers!“, you said looking at your family. „On Us!“, everyone cheers with you taking a sip from their drinks.

All of these Numbers are available 24/7 and charge Free

–USA: 988 (suicide & life crisis lifeline) 1-866-488-7386 (The Trevor project) 678-678 (Trevor project Text [text START]) 1-877-565-8860 (Trans Lifeline)

–UK: 0800 689 5653 (National Suicide Prevention) 0800 068 4141 (Hopline 247 / PAPYRUS) ^07860039967 (Text)

–Switzerland: 143 (die Dargebotene Hand)

–Sweden: 90101 (Självmordslinjen)

–Netherlands: 0800 0113 (Stichting 113Online)

–Irland: 116 123 (Samaritans)

–Germany: 0800 111 0 111 or 0800 111 0 222 (Telefonseelsorge)

–France: 3114 (didn‘t found a name) 1-877-330-6366 (Fil santé jeunes)

–Canada: 1-833-456-4566 (Talk Suicide Canada) 1-877-330-6366 (Trans lifeline)

–Brazil: 188 (Centro de Valorização)

–Austria: 142 (Telefonseelsorge [Samaritan Telephone])

–Australia: 13 11 14 (Lifeline) 1800 55 1800 (Kids Helpline [ages 5-25])

If you want the numbers for your country tell me in the comments🫶🏻

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #kiara carrera x reader #john b imagine #pogues x reader #outer banks imagine #pope heyward imagine #john b x reader #pope heyward x reader #john b routledge #pope heyward #kiara carrera imagine #kiara carrera #jj maybank x reader #writing-with-emy

113 notes · View notes

my-autism-adhd-blog · 3 months

Note

Hey, I hope it's okay if i ask for some advice !!

I've been experiencing an intense autistic burnout and haven't gone to school for 1 ½ months. It would take too long to explain, but I HAVE to go to school next week..I haven't been outside until today (with two friends for two hours to prepare myself mentally for school) and even little social interactions exhaust me terribly. Moreover, I am terrified to go to school and I am afraid that it will cause yet another burnout (which is inevitable while I am at school, but I don't want it to happen as soon). School exhausts me because of social interactions, masking, sensory issues etc..Do you have any tips/strategies on how to make my start into school less terrifying for me? My teachers don't know about my autism (except one) who's class I will attend on monday (I told them via chat a day ago, but we haven't talked about it personally yet). I am supposed to give my teachers the diagnosis in the next 1-2 weeks.

Thank you so much !!

Hi there,

I’ve found some articles that are possibly helpful:

I really hope one of these articles have some useful tips. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

#inbox #inbox reply #inbox is temporarily closed

29 notes · View notes

your-fave-adopted-you · 1 year

Note

Hello!

First of all, I'm grateful to you for creating this blog and starting to share your creativity. The wonderful stories about NRC guardians are what we all needed.

I would also like to make a request. Guardians with a physically weak, but at the same time hardworking and obsessed with studying MC. Perhaps they were seriously ill and as a result, one day the MC loses consciousness right during the lesson.

Thank you for considering my request.

Yes. Excellent request anon. A very good way to start!

Guardian! School staff react to Mc passing out mid- lesson

characters : Dire Crowley, Divus Crewel, Mozus Trein, Ashton Vargas.

Gn pronouns were used.

CW: Crowley

Context : Mc is just a normal human in a world full of magic, monsters and stressful stuff in general(Crowley, for example) . With overblots and schoolwork [no one had previously prepared them for] around the corner, they are always giving their absolute best! even if sometimes is at cost of their own health.

One day, after pulling all nighters one day after the other for a whole week, their body finally gives up mid-lesson, an hour prior to a very important exam.

Dire Crowley

He got a call straight from the infirmary, apparently you were lying unconscious next to two worried classmates that insisted on being there until you woke up.

this man has never ever in his life rushed so fast to anyone's aid.

still there he is.

The school nurse approaches him and tells him you had a little temperature but you would be fine with rest.

he basically kicks out your classmates.

At first acts like you're in a coma.

after a while he calms down a little.

does NOT MOVE A MUSCLE until you do so.

fuck his work you're more important.

He kinda expected you to be fragile but didn't think you would overwork yourself to that point.

when you open your eyes you nearly pass out again from sheer fright.

this man was looking straight at you, not moving, not talking.

you weren't sure if he was breathing.

ofc the moment he notices your eyes are open he starts crying and screaming about how worried he was.

It's literally just been 5 minutes dude

lectures you about being so reckless.

also don't worry about that exam. you can take it tomorrow. Your health comes first.

Divus Crewel

He was giving a lecture about what kind of spells generated a bigger amount of blot than others when suddenly-

"THUD"

yeah it was your head falling against your desk.

"Sensei! i think they're dead."

Crewel was too stunned to speak.

calmly, he stops the lecture and tells the class president to keep an eye while he gets you to the infirmary.

Deep inside, he's panicking.

when you two get there, the nurse tells him that you already seem to have been ill for days but you seemingly didn't care and just kept on going.

He's PISSED because he didn't notice earlier.

stays there for a while and only leaves when he sees that you're fully conscious.

he will have someone watching over you in the meantime.

someone trustworthy, but not from your class (remember there's an exam next hour-) so, someone like Trey, Jamil, Jack, maybe Leona-

hear me out, Leona may not be the most responsible out of the four but he wasn't gonna do much in class either way.

Depends on what year your in, honestly.

Trein finally brings the exam sheets and when I tell you, Crewel SPRINTS out of the room.

how can someone move so fast while wearing all that-

He will scold the SHIT out of you for being so irresponsible with your health.

ofc you can do the exam next day, he already spoke to Mr.Trein about the issue.

"You are one stubborn pup did you know that?"

Mozus Trein

A very similar situation to Crewel's honestly.

once you hit your head against the desk and didn't respond, your classmates started to freak out.

Unfazed, he asks someone strong to carry you to the infirmary, and someone he knows will make sure you'll be okay.

he's quite calm.

when Crewel enters the class with the exam sheets, he excuses himself and goes immediately to the infirmary.

he brings the cat too.

when the nurse tells him what happened and in which condition you're currently in, he just nods attentively.

it doesn't matter if it takes you hours or just a couple minutes to feel better, he will be by your side.

he knew full well about your weak constitution, and that you were overworking yourself.

still, he didn't want to stop you, after all you were responsible for both your grades and your health.

don't take the wrong idea, he's MAD WORRIED

he also knows that won't solve anything.

the cat is laying on top of you, purring, trying to ease the pain in his own way.

you try to explain yourself but the old man just stays silent.

"You know, in my years of teaching, I've seen a couple of students who were just like you."

"reckless and stupid?" you ask.

"Too hardworking for their own good."

he pauses and takes a deep breath, his tone, unlike the others, is oddly gentle and comforting.

"You know better than anyone what's best for you."

"Well, seems like this time... i didn't." you reply.

"But you do know now, right?"

you nod.

you will take the exam next week, alongside those who have failed today.

it will give you time to recover and study just a little bit more.

You will be okay.

Ashton Vargas

It's never a good idea to ride a broom while sleep deprived and probably with a tiny fever.

everyone stops dead in their tracks when they hear someone has fallen to the ground.

Thank the great seven you weren't flying high.

still you got a good few scratches.

Everyone is PANICKING. you're facing THE GROUND and NOT MOVING.

Mr.Ashton sends everyone inside.

they can study in the meantime.

No more sports today, sorry, this shit is serious.

you come to your senses while he's carrying you. yep. you're so embarrassed you pretend to be unconscious a little more.

In the infirmary, the nurse tells your guardian that you don't have anything broken from the fall

but

you seem to have a fever that has only worsened since you got there.

He's so worried omg

you're a regular, non magical human.

you're fragile!!! even when he does his best training you and making sure you have the BEST diet!!

you seemed a little off today, yes, but he didn't know you were THAT exhausted!!

poor man.

waits by your side while the fever goes down, lets some worried classmates check how your doing, but doesn't let them stay for long.

oh shit right you had an exam today

don't worry, your super cool dad is here to save the day!

he just sends an email to Trein telling him what happened.

you will do the exam once you get out of the infirmary, you studied so hard, you would be pissed if all of this was for nothing.

oh! the fever is gone? thank god!

He thinks he had played it cool the whole time, but anyone can tell, the whole time he was looking at you like if you were about to break.

he wants to train you to be like iron, but no matter what, he can't help but see you as a piece of thin glass.

the moment the nurse checks you and says that you're good to go, you jump out of bed to go find Mr.Trein, leaving Ashton behind.

"...A diamond." he mutters to himself, while watching you leave the door.

#twst x mc #twst x reader #dire crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #ashton vargas

218 notes · View notes

cherryrainn · 1 year

Text

the perfect pair {onceler x reader}

.7 | 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 |

warning; s3lf harm, self-hatred, depression, mental health issues, etc, and A LOT OF ANGST!!

wattpad ver

song to play while reading if you’d like that i think matches this chapter

part before

next part

note; double upload <3 + ANGSTT

you were sitting on a worn-out bench in the back of the factory, dressed in the fancy attire that onceler had bought for you, the weight of disappointment and despair settled heavily upon your shoulders. your body was exhausted, drained from the constant stress of trying to change onceler's mind. he barely spoke to you anymore, too focused on his "business meetings." you wondered if he even loved you anymore. the sky above you was a dreary, sickly shade of purple-grey, a reflection of the polluted air that choked the once-beautiful truffula valley. you couldn't remember the last time you had seen a true, unblemished blue sky.

the factory loomed in behind you, a monstrous eyesore that blotted out the beauty of nature. you couldn't help but feel like a failure for not being able to persuade onceler to see reason. you had tried so hard, but it seemed like all your efforts were in vain.

as you sat there, your gaze drifted to the animals that had gathered a few feet away. they looked so hungry, so desperate. their eyes, once filled with life and curiosity, now mirrored the emptiness you felt within. it broke your heart to see them suffering because of your onceler's greed. you wished you could do something, anything, to help them, but you were powerless.

your body curled inward, seeking solace and shelter within the sanctuary of your own embrace. the weight of your thoughts threatened to crush you as you trembled with a mix of sorrow, frustration, and self-loathing. the tears that streamed down your face were not just born of sadness, but also of an unyielding determination to fight for what was right, even if it meant facing the consequences of your own powerlessness.

a wave of self-hatred washed over you, the same thoughts that had plagued you for months. you hated yourself for not being able to make a difference, for not being strong enough to stand up to onceler. without even realizing it, you started scratching at your face, trying to relieve the tension that had built up inside you.

as you scratched away at your face, a familiar voice reached your ears, causing you to look up. the blurriness in your vision gradually cleared, revealing the comforting presence of the lorax standing before you. his vibrant orange figure contrasted against the desolate backdrop. with a gentle frown, he spoke, "don't do that."

you sniffled, feeling a mix of relief and guilt flood over you. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry," you whispered, continuing to wipe away the remnants of your tears. the lorax moved closer, his concerned eyes meeting yours. "don't be," he reassured you, his voice filled with understanding. "it's not ch' fault. don't feel guilty about somethin' ya didn't do."

as he observed your tired eyes, the bags beneath them, and your fragile frame, he couldn't help but sigh. "when was the last time you took care of yourself?" he asked, genuine concern etched across his face.

you sniffled once again, shrugging in response. the lorax's expression softened, his voice filled with compassion. "you've got all the food you need in there, don't ya? go get somethin' to eat." his words sparked an idea in your weary mind, and your eyes brightened with newfound enthusiasm. "oh my god!" you exclaimed, a glimmer of hope returning to your voice.

without hesitation, you rose from the bench and gently lifted the lorax, placing him upon your shoulders. "we have so much food in the kitchen! i can just give it to the animals!" you exclaimed, a sense of purpose infusing your every word. the lorax beamed at the thought, appreciating your kind-hearted nature. "that's a great idea, but... how am i supposed t' get inside?" he questioned, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

a mischievous chuckle escaped your lips as you unveiled your plan. "don't worry," you reassured him, your voice filled with excitement. with a flourish, you flapped your oversized fur jacket, its ample folds creating a hiding place. "this thing is huge. surely you can just hide in it." intrigued, the lorax gave it a try, and to his surprise, it worked like a charm. "okay, great. let's get our friends some food," you declared, determination gleaming in your eyes.

with the lorax concealed within your jacket, you set off towards the factory, a renewed sense of purpose guiding your every step. the flickering hope within your heart began to grow brighter, fueled by the belief that even in the darkest times, small acts of kindness could make a difference.

you stepped into the familiar warmth of the kitchen. the air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering soups, bringing a touch of solace to your troubled spirit. determined to provide nourishment for the hungry animals outside, you swung the fridge door open wide, revealing an array of vibrant fruits, crisp vegetables, and tantalizing treats.

the lorax emerged from the shelter of your fur jacket, his eyes widening in delight at the sight of the bountiful offerings before him. his orange figure was almost not seeable as you carefully selected a generous portion of food for him, knowing it would bring relief to his famished friends. you handed him the nourishment with a warm smile, appreciating the opportunity to offer a small ray of hope amidst the darkness.

with a gentle hop, the lorax made his way to the open window. with a grateful nod, he leaped into the outside world, disappearing into the foliage with the food clutched in his hands.

as you turned back to the task at hand, a sudden clearing of the throat startled you. slowly, you pivoted on your heels, finding yourself face to face with onceler. the atmosphere seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with anticipation and unresolved tension. in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, and the weight of the world rested upon your shoulders.

the atmosphere grew tense as onceler's anger radiated through his sunglasses. the soft orange/yellow glow of the kitchen lights cast dramatic shadows across his face, accentuating the furrowed lines of frustration etched on his forehead. the room seemed to shrink, enclosing you both in a bubble of charged emotions.

his voice was laced with a mix of betrayal and disappointment as he confronted you. "what the hell are you doing, y/n?" the words sliced through the air, carrying a weight that hung heavily in the silence. his arms crossed tightly, emphasizing his frustration and the distance between you.

with a nervous gulp, you attempted to play it off, your voice laced with a touch of innocence. "oh, onceler! i...just... i'm really hungry, you know?" your sheepish smile faltered slightly under his intense scrutiny, knowing deep down that your explanation fell short of convincing.

pushing his glasses up onto his head, he leaned closer, his tone growing sharper. "you think i'm dumb? i literally saw everything." disappointment crept into his voice, a crack in his once unwavering belief in you. the vulnerability in his eyes mirrored the hurt coursing through your own heart.

his accusatory words stung, echoing through the room like a bitter melody. "i told you not to fuckin' talk to him! this guy's tryna ruin my business, y/n!" his voice carried a mix of anger, frustration, and the fear of losing everything he had built.

the ambiance of the kitchen seemed to darken, shadows dancing around you both, mirroring the darkness within your relationship. the weight of his words settled on your shoulders, and the once warm and inviting room now felt cold and suffocating.

in the dimly lit kitchen, emotions swirled like a tempest, the air heavy with tension. the faint flicker of candlelight cast flickering shadows across the room, adding an air of melancholy to the scene. it was in this charged atmosphere that you found the strength to speak up, your voice trembling yet determined.

"onceler, you're acting like a kid!" the words pierced through the silence, hanging in the air like a challenge. the intensity in your voice mirrored the fire in your eyes as you refused to back down this time. your outstretched hand pointed accusingly toward the open window, where the devastation outside painted a bleak picture of the consequences of his actions. "look outside, it's disgusting! you did this," you proclaimed, your voice carrying a mix of frustration and despair. "look at the damage you've caused! do you feel no shame?"

the room seemed to hold its breath as your words echoed. onceler stood before you, his towering presence emphasized by the brim of his hat, his face a mask of defiance and indifference. was he really not bothered?

"look, just tell me what you want," he retorted, his voice laced with exasperation. "i know you want something 'cause you're trying way too hard! we have like... all the money in the world! you have everything! what more could you possibly want?" his words reverberated through the room.

in that moment, everything crystallized. tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you mustered the courage to voice your deepest longing. "the boy i fell in love with!" you exclaimed, your voice carrying a mix of longing and heartbreak. the room fell into a heavy silence, as if holding its breath, as your words hung in the air.

his once fiery gaze softened, he was taken aback. his eyes widened, and you could see the shock and surprise written all over his face. it was as if your words had finally pierced through the shell he had built up around himself. his once fiery gaze softened, and his eyes widened with a mix of surprise and recognition. in that moment, it felt as if time stood still, allowing a glimmer of hope to flicker amidst the chaos that surrounded you both

with a pained expression, onceler took a hesitant step forward, closing the physical and emotional distance between you. his voice, laced with longing, emerged in a whisper. "y/n...i..." his words hung in the air, caught between the confession that begged to escape and the weight of his choices that held him captive.

but you knew, deep within your heart, that this moment of vulnerability was just a fleeting glimpse of the boy you fell in love with. the boy whose dreams were filled with creativity, compassion, and a genuine desire to protect the girl that was always around him. as much as you yearned for that version of him, you also knew that he was entangled in a web of ambition and misguided priorities.

a bittersweet ache settled within your chest, a mix of love, sadness, and determination. you couldn't bear to walk away, abandoning the person you held so dear. love had tethered you to him, and even amidst the ruins of his actions, you clung to the hope that redemption and change were still within his grasp.

you reached out, your hand trembling slightly, as if trying to bridge the gap between who he was and who he had become. your touch sat right on his chest.

but as the moments passed, you realized that his silence spoke volumes. the reality settled upon you, heavy and unyielding. he wasn't ready to let go of the path he had chosen, and you couldn't force him to change. so, with a mixture of sadness and acceptance, you gently withdrew your hand, letting the unspoken words hang between you.

46 notes · View notes