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literaila · 2 months

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moving in

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: today’s the day

warnings: literally nothing so short it makes me want to cry

last part | next part

year three

“you know that you’re supposed to be helping, right?”

your hands are sore from lugging bags in for the past hour. you feel a bit out of it—with this change, the shift in atmosphere.

and still, satoru doesn’t seem to care. he’s been sitting there for thirty minutes, watching you and the kids lug your things into the house.

(so maybe he’s finally convinced you. and maybe you’re settling into his guest room, ready to be a part of this daily life—this satoru-filled house. maybe it’s moving day, and you’re not even worried about it).

his feet are up on the couch, hands behind his head as he smiles idly. “i’m watching to make sure that you’re all doing it right.”

his voice echoes in the large room. a part of you is angry at him, and another part is amused. how you let him convince you of this, you’re not sure.

you would cross your arms, were it not for the box occupying them. “because there’s an incorrect way to carry in boxes?”

“i think i heard megumi drop at least three.”

“and yet you’re still sitting there. not helping.”

“i told him it was fine,” satoru argues, his grinning voice evident. “you probably didn’t need whatever was in those.”

“get up.”

“i cant,” he groans, tilting his head back.

“you said you would help,” you remind him—because he swore to you when you settled on today for moving things. because you know that satoru is a liar, but it’s not like you’re not going to call him out for it.

his hand waves and you pretend not to pay attention to the veins you can see on his wrist.

“i am helping,” he tells you. “moral support is very important.”

“so is physical help.”

“if you want some help physically,” he smirks, “you only have to ask.”

“im going to move back out.”

he laughs, moving his feet off of the coffee table. “too late,” he tells you.

“c’mon, satoru. we’re almost done.”

“see? you don’t need me.”

“i’m going to take the kids out for sushi without you if you don’t get up.”

“you wouldn’t,” he pours, very seriously.

“try me.”

he groans but doesn’t move.

“get up,” you repeat.

satoru turns his head to the side, and then back to you. he whines. “but i hate moving. it makes me all sweaty, and my hair gets messed up, and i already showered today.”

you roll your eyes. “you smell anyway.”

“why couldn’t we just hire someone to do this?” he asks, for probably the fifth time today.

“um, because we’re not losers,” you retort. “there’s four of us. we’d probably already be done if someone had helped out.”

not that you have a lot to move in. back at school there wasn’t a ton of room for anything, and you’ve kept the habit of an empty living space since.

unlike satoru, who decorates like his life depends on it. who’s house feels more like a museum, cluttered and spacious.

“yeah, megumi,” satoru adds, as the boy lugs in another box, his face covered completely.

megumi lowers the box to his waist, shaking his head at satoru.

unlike satoru, both of the kids have been very helpful. they’re both excited to have you there—according to all three of them. it’s probably the reason you haven’t started looking for another apartment.

megumi frowns at the man, turning to you with deflated hair. his face is a bit flushed from running around. “is he getting old?” he asks you, very seriously.

“what?” satoru gasps.

“is that why he can’t move boxes?” megumi continues, and tsumiki creeps up behind him, looking towards the three of you. “he hasn’t done anything.”

you snort.

tsumiki pouts, looking between the two of you. “will it hurt him?”

“well, kids,” you say, evil grinning towards the senior man. “satoru just needs to take it easy. i mean, look at him. see how his hair is already starting to grey?”

“it’s white,” satoru pouts, gaping at you.

“yeah, i saw him pluck some of it in the mirror the other day,” tsumiki frowns at satoru.

“and those wrinkles,” you nod, sadly. “yeah, we better make sure he doesn’t overdo it. maybe we can take turns chewing his food and feeding it—“

“enough,” satoru says, up in an instant and stealing the box from megumi’s arms. his face is bland, annoyed. “i am the youth here.”

you laugh as he trudges down the hall, double the speed any of you have moved, and storms back outside to get another box.

the three of you watch this for a moment, and then you look to megumi, winking. “thanks.”

he gives you a private smile and then follows satoru to the truck, your hand on his back to lead him.

and then the three of you watch as satoru drops the box he’s trying to juggle, the distinct sound of glass breaking through the air.

“it’s fine!” he calls, and he’s definitely lying.

satoru wakes up in the morning all alone.

actually, it’s not like it’s that unusual. except that megumi is usually flicking him awake, or tsumiki is kissing his cheek and asking him how he slept.

he never sets an alarm anymore. why would he?

but this morning, he’s all alone when he wakes up, drool covering his pillow, neck sore from the weird way he slept.

there are no children disturbing his dream, no smell of burnt breakfast coming from the kitchen.

he wakes up alone, and immediately he’s searching for the children with his eyes.

he gets up out of bed, stretching briefly, before he walks to megumi’s room, not bothering to knock as he opens the door.

but there’s no little boy cuddled in the blankets.

so he moves to tsumiki’s room, right next door—sometimes he wakes up and they’re already fighting with each other, probably plotting his demise.

but her room is empty too.

so, in a last-ditch effort, satoru walks to his old guest room—now yours—and again, doesn’t knock as he creaks open the door.

and as soon as his eyes set sight on your bed, he wonders if he’s dreaming again.

there you are, cuddled with megumi and tsumiki on either side of you, chest rising and falling.

and, god. satoru cant believe you’re here. all of you.

he can’t believe he gets to keep this family—this home he’s created—for as long as he can.

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balkanradfem · 1 year

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I remember back in the old days, when I first found radfems, I kept feeling it is inevitable that something will destroy them, someone will argue them down, shame them, point out that they’re doing something they’re not supposed to, and I kept reading on and on just waiting in fear, waiting for men to attack them and to humiliate them for speaking against the system.

But it didn’t happen. Instead, I found radfems arguing directly with men, over and over again, and defeating every single argument like it was nothing. Being raised in patriarchy, it was something I had never experienced before. I couldn’t understand the courage, the boldness and the dare to do it, I knew they were doing something dangerous, and I didn’t understand how was it possible that they couldn’t be shamed, couldn’t be guilt tripped, could not be humiliated or bullied into backing down.

They weren’t arguing with men for the chance they would persuade men to change their opinion, they were only showcasing for the other women, how to defeat those arguments, why are they wrong, why was it okay for a woman to fight back, to argue back.

I can remember the exact moment of reading one of those arguments, that reprogrammed my brain. I only wish I could find it again.

A woman was arguing against a man who kept saying things like ‘And how does this benefit us? Feminism is for everyone? You’re not helping anyone by being sexist and excluding men! What about the men who are abused, who are dying, traumatized, disabled? You’re uncaring and selfish **** and you should be shut down! You’re generalizing and demonizing half of the population! What about what we feel? What about our mental health? Men are victims too!’

And these arguments are something I’d heard so often I had them memorized, and reading radfem ideals, these arguments would constantly activate in my head, that we’re selfish and cruel if we don’t take care of the men in need, that compassion towards men is something we absolutely must have if we are good, normal human beings, that it’s only reasonable for men to despise us unless our movement is also proving useful to them, that they must have benefits too otherwise we’ll never get their support, never get anything done.

But the woman arguing back was having none of it. She asked right back ‘Why should you benefit out of it? Why should men get anything from a movement of women’s liberation? Do you only support women’s freedom and women’s rights if you directly benefit from it? Women are a half of a human population too, and you never once sacrificed anything to benefit us, yet you expect every single time that we sacrifice ourselves in order for you to get more benefits.

Why would I be uncaring and selfish if I don’t care about the men? You’re our primary predators, you are the number one cause of death in women, you are the reason we cannot go out safe at night, you’re the reason most if not all of our ancestors spent their lives in servitude, never getting to pursue their passions, never getting acknowledgment, money, land, legacy and matriarchal line of last names they deserved. You are shaming me like a wolf would shame a prey for running away from him, do you think a woman’s morality is to be questioned if she doesn’t feel compassion for a man who is holding a boot on her neck? Who is most likely to kill her? We have to put our safety before your feelings, for the sake of our own survival.

Why would men be what everyone and everything else must benefit? You think the rest of the world exists as resources to you, you believe we exist for you, to be used and violated and exploited by you, and you treat us accordingly, shaming us for having one place where we care about ourselves, and not you.

We have said nothing but the explicit, factual truth about the men, and if you find this demonizing, that’s on you. If mankind hasn’t oppressed and violated women’s freedom and lives for thousands of years, there would be no such facts to tell. If the truth reveals something rotten and demonic in you, that is not on us. We won’t shut up about what happened just because it makes you feel bad. Your feelings do not trump reality.

When men are victims, it’s primarily caused by other men, and in those situations, what do you expect us to do? Fight other men to save you, when we’d likely be killed? Fight for men, even though these exact victimized men are more than happy to go and victimize women, because now they have a great excuse of being victimized themselves? Men use everything, even their own victimization, against women. We do not have to feel compassion for those who have never, and will never feel it for us.’

It was while I was reading this, that I realized. I have been living all my life, until that moment, brainwashed to believe that I exist for men. That we all exist for men, that we’re around to make their life easier, that giving them whatever they want is mandatory, that we’re to be used. I believed my every word, action, thought, even appearance, has to be pleasing and approved by men in some way, or I would be shunned, punished, despised, and eventually, tortured and destroyed, for not being of use.

I believed that was reasonable, because men kept claiming it was, because they were arguing it loudly, with a threat of violence and humiliation for everyone who disagrees. I also believed it because I’ve never seen anything else. I’ve only ever seen women in servitude, acting like it’s natural to be so. All women in my family were servants of their husbands, almost all women in media were sexualized for men’s pleasure, almost every grown woman I’ve known was inclined to jump at male attention. Institutions, jobs, education, everything was favouring men, and we could have a try at it, but would ultimately be expected to be caretakers, or if we have a job, contribute money to men, to take off pressure from their responsibilities. We were supposed to believe they knew ‘better’ about what to do with money anyway. I’ve never dared to question it because the backlash was so hateful, violent, abusive and terrifying, I believed I would be a bad person if I thought otherwise, if I shut my compassion down.

But now, a handful of women online could argue it out without any fear of retribution because they were anonymous, they could not be touched, they could say anything, and no violence would reach them because it was anonymous platform. Men could rage at them but not touch them, never beat them. The power in that was unbelievable.

Realizing all this made me enraged, distressed, mortified, and determined to get free. From that moment on, I’ve not spend a second longer believing I exist for men. I never again considered if anything I wanted to do benefited them or not, or if anything that would benefit me would be well received with them as well. They never did this for us. They never took us into consideration when building the entire goddamn world. We do not exist for them. We are humans too. We are not selfish for not extending our patience and compassion to oppressors and predators. We are not responsible for troubles they create for themselves. And we do not have to sacrifice our rights for their convenience.

#radical feminism #radfem #anti patriarchy #old radblr #male arguments #anti male

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papayatori · 2 months

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Don’t Blink!(P5)

LN4 x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Thanks again for keeping with me on this story 😁 I’ve fallen in love with it. Let me know if you have requests/questions! -Tori (i'm sorry this is out so much later than I anticipated, I got really caught up in a phone call, so I made it a little longer than it was initially was going to be...)

Life had a funny way of stringing me along recently, and after the longest week of my entire existence, Bahrain was finally here.

I had never been on a plane before, so that was quite the experience. I shook when the plane took off, to which Lando grabbed my hand for moral support. At least, that’s what I’m going to call it. It couldn’t have been anything more than that.

We eventually landed, much to my gratitude. If it weren’t for my new job, I would never fly again. I could’ve kissed the ground when we got off had it not been for my wobbly legs and self respect.

Now, we were in the hotel. All of our rooms were conveniently beside one another’s, if not directly near. Oscar and Lando had free practice today, regardless of being jetlagged more than likely. I suppose, however, they were used to this.

My room was breathtaking. It had a small balcony that I could lounge on if I desired. The room itself was a series of multiple rooms, a small main room that branched into the bedroom itself, with a mid sized bathroom to the left. Even with my freelance photography, I could’ve never afforded something like this, and I made a mental note not to think about it.

After getting myself situated, I decided to talk a walk around the hotel. I figured that if there was anything to do to pass the time, it was to get myself acquainted with my surroundings.

Opening the door, I saw Lando and Oscar walking past to their rooms beside me. I gained Lando’s attention rather quickly, taking Oscar a moment to take in what was happening.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Oscar joked. I giggled in response.

“I wonder why?” I heard Lando snort at my comment from beside Oscar, who gave me a deadpan before smiling again.

“Where are you headed?” Lando asked, head tilting to the side slightly. His gesture made my chest burn.

“Just to look around, I’ve already gotten unpacked.” I saw Oscar smile.

“Well, I’d show you around but I’ve got to unpack myself before practice, so I’ll catch up in a bit.” He reached to kiss my hand, a small gesture that had started to become more of a habit for him. I felt my cheeks redden, he’d never done it in front of anyone else, much less Oscar.

“I’ll show you around, mate. I'm sure Lando won’t mind.” He smiled after Lando was no longer in ear shot. I laughed, hoping to keep the air around us light.

I had never really spoken to Oscar outside of our conversations with Lan. He seemed wonderful, I had just never really gotten to know him. Though, he didn't exactly take long to open up to me.

“How long has that been happening?” He gave me a lopsided smile, reverting back to Lando kissing my hand. My gaze dropped to the floor, a small smile creeping upwards.

“I’m not really sure what you’re talking about, Oscar.” I tried to play it off, but the lack of eye contact told him exactly what he needed to know.

“I’m talking about you and Lando. He never stops talking about you, y/n.” His tone was playful, lighthearted; but my eyes lit up nonetheless.

“What is there to talk about?” I looked up to meet his gaze now, worried about what he was saying. I trusted Lan, I didn’t think he’d speak ill of me, but there was always a chance.

“Oh, you know, about how beautiful you are, how your smile is contagious, how you can’t stop looking at his eyes-“ I cut him off after that last bit.

“He said what?” Oscar laughed, almost toppling over. The people around us had started giving us strange looks. "Traitorous Bastard." I mumbled quietly, causing him to laugh a bit more.

“Don’t be too upset with him, I had to sit and listen to him ramble about yours at practice yesterday.” He had calmed his laughter, giving me a smirk as my face had started to give away my emotions again. “I think you should talk to him about it.”

“About my eyes?” He deadpanned.

“No, stupid. You two obviously have a thing for each other. You should probably say something before you don’t have a chance.” He was smiling, but I was not.

“You don’t genuinely think that, do you?” Oscar gave me a look that told me just about how slow he thought I was.

“I’ve had this conversation with both of you, and both of you act as if I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to love." This time, it was my turn to look at him like he was stupid. "What? I'm the one with a relationship here, and I'm willing to bet good money that I'm a better wingman than you think."

With a sigh, i gave in.

"Alright, so you're telling me that if I were to talk to Lan about my.. urm, feelings, that he would have those same sort of feelings."

Oscar's hand immediately went to his forehead with a loud groan.

"Yes! That's-" another groan followed by a small laugh, "listen, I'll help you out with it, just promise me you'll do it. I can only listen to Lando ramble for so long."

With much reluctance, I agreed, shaking Oscar's hand as if this was some business proposal rather than a simple agreement over whether or not he was going to help me with a boy.

After exchanging phone numbers and finding our way back up to our rooms, Oscar gave me a sideways hug.

"Don't worry about it too much. Just text me if you need help with the situation." At about that time, Lando had walked out of his room with a somewhat confused look on his face, which I'm assuming was directed towards the hug Oscar had just given me. He eyed Oscar warily as he walked past him, winking at me as he did so. I rolled my eyes. "I'm just going to unpack, then I'll be ready to leave."

Lando gave him a look, still untrusting, but nodded in his direction before letting him walk off and turning his attention to me.

"How was your walk?" He asked, eyeing me still. He wore an expression that I wasn't entirely sure how to read.

"It was interesting, nice hotel though." I smiled at him, hoping he would take the bait and smile back. Much to my satisfaction, he grinned back, though it didn't entirely meet his eyes.

"Well, seeing as we have nothing to do until Oscar is finished, care to join me for a few minutes?" He motioned for his hotel door with a more genuine look this time. I wasn't sure where he had been going previously, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it now.

"Lead the way, mate."

Shutting the door behind him, he gave me a look that I couldn't read, yet again. His eyes were swirling with emotion, which oddly, he was incredibly good at hiding. I sat on the little couch in his main room. His room was set up just like mine, only opposite mine. I tilted my head as he walked over to sit beside me.

"How do you think your practices are going to go?" I looked at him, not sure whether to be worried or not. He shrugged.

"It's either going to be really good, or really badly.. This really could be my season. Hell, McLaren's season for all we know. I'm just hoping it isn't completely dominant again, even if Max deserved it." I squeezed his hand this time, that must have been what he was thinking when I walked in. At least that's what I was telling myself. "I'm sure you're going to do great this season. Just don't beat yourself up over it. I have no idea what it's like to be in that position, but I do know that it is difficult to overcome hardship. I'm here for that if you need it." I smiled a small smile, looking deeply into his eyes. He chuckled lightly, breaking eye contact. "I wish it were that easy, mate; but I'll keep it in mind." I still held his hand tightly, not wanting to let it go. He had turned on the TV mindlessly watching while rubbing circles on the back of my hand idly.

The door opened, scaring both of us. Lando had stopped circling, but he hadn't let go of my hand. I looked up to see a smirking Oscar standing in the door. I made a mental note to explain what was happening later.

"I see you two are comfortable." Lando shot daggers across the room. Not only were his eyes beautiful, but they were deadly too it seemed. I wanted to smile at him, but I restrained myself. "Anyways, I'm here to collect Lando now. Zak says we're leaving." I felt Lando squeeze my hand one more time before letting go and standing up.

"Feel free to stay here if you want, we'll be gone most of the day." Oscar groaned at Lan's comment. "Free practices are boring." Oscar stated. "Maybe so, but they're useful." Lando said, walking over to the door.

As they walked out the door I couldn't help but miss the feeling of Lando's hand in mine. I missed the warmth, the safe feeling I had when he was around. I think Oscar had done something to me. I think he had implanted some sort of chemical in my brain that was causing me to feel all of this when I had met them the first time. There was no other viable explanation for my feelings. I let out an exasperated groan, falling dramatically back onto the couch in Lan's hotel room.

Without thinking about it, I let myself fall to sleep.

...

"Nah, she won't be home for a few hours.. She's watching some silly race at her parents house.. She left a few minutes ago." I heard faintly from the other room.

I was standing in the main room, I had left my phone in the house as I was leaving for my Dad's. We were going to watch the first race of the season together and I was absolutely stoked... At least until I heard what was happening in my bedroom. "Are you sure? I thought I just heard someone.." I heard a females voice ask. Was I losing my mind?

I picked up my phone off of the bar in the kitchen, realizing I must have left it there while I was getting ready and forgot about it.

"I'm sure, you're just paranoid, love."

I felt the blood rising into my face. My hands shook slightly. Without a second thought, I trudged into my bedroom to find my boyfriend with a blonde girl I had never even met before. I heard two collective gasps from the bed, one being my boyfriends. Well, I suppose now ex boyfriend. "I- y/n! I can explain I swear!" I heard him call to me, but I had already made up my mind.

"Out. Now." I murmured, deathly quiet. The two stood, gathering their clothes. "y/n-" "Go! And if I ever see your face again, I'll mess it up so badly that no female will be able to look at you long enough to fuck you again."

…

“Y/n..?” I felt a soft shake on my shoulder. “Are you okay..?” Why would anyone be asking me if I was okay? I opened my eyes, my eyes that had suddenly felt swollen shut and hard to open. I reached up to feel my face, it was puffy and wet.

Had I been crying?

I finally looked up to see Lando, who had concern written all over his face.

“y/n what the hell happened to you?” He was crouched in front of me, frantically searching my eyes for something I wasn’t even sure was there. Then I remembered the memory that I had repressed for so long, almost exactly a year now. I felt another tear roll down my face. Lando helped me sit up and sat beside me. I saw a look of remorse on his face and immediately started to worry about that too, causing more tears. As if not being able to take it any longer, he pulled me into his chest. His strong arms were wrapped gently around me, encasing me in his body. Lando was warm, he smelled like sweat, but he was warm. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner." He said, stroking my hair gently as I cried into his chest. "Please don't cry anymore, you have no idea how much it hurts me to see you cry, darling." I looked up at Lando, eyes watery and sad. He looked so hurt and confused. God, I couldn't even explain to him why I was crying.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled before falling back into his chest, too afraid to let him see me any longer. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, y/n. Please don't apologize to me." What he didn't realize is that I had everything to be sorry for. Not only did I fall asleep on his couch, but I had also made it inevitable that he would come back from practice, potentially upset and exhausted, finding me on his couch asleep. Somehow, it had managed to be worse than that. Without another word, he lifted my chin, not giving me another opportunity to look away. He caressed my cheek tenderly, wiping stray tears as he did so. "Who did this to you?" I saw the anger in his eyes as he asked me this, wondering who the hell had hurt someone he cared about. My heart skipped a beat as the warmth of his hand burned itself into my cheek. "It's been a year.." I managed to say softly. "..in my own bedroom." I choked, feeling the tears slide down a bit heavier now. His hand held firm, not letting me back away. My pulse radiated through my skull, beating so hard that I wasn't sure if it wouldn't explode. "Tell me everything.." He said softly, his eyes filled to the brim with anger. I nodded, doing my very best to choke out the words that I needed to. After some time, Lando had finally let go of my face. I explained everything to him, even what I had told him when I last saw him. "That's my girl." He had replied, making my heart skip probably ten beats. It was a miracle I was still living currently. We had lied there for God knows how long, just talking and crying everything out. Well, I was the only one doing the crying, but that's besides the point. I snuggled into his warmth. Despite having slept for so long, I wanted nothing more than to lay in his embrace. His touch was my comfort. I could feel every breath he took, every move he made, every beat his heart sounded. This felt better than anything I had ever felt before. Not to mention, this felt right. "Thank you, Lan. For everything." I gave him a sleepy smile, my eyes still watery and face still puffy from earlier. He gave me one in return. "Anything for you, darling." This time, I was fully awake and aware of what was happening as he bent down, kissing my forehead. Heat rose to my cheeks, and for once I was grateful for my swollen, red face. The last thing I remember was Lando's thumbs tracing circles on my arm and back, comforting me in any way possible. We lay there with each other, the only audible sound being our breaths. This bastard really knew what he was doing, didn't he?

For those of you who wanted to be tagged^^(please let me know if you would like to be tagged) @kapsylia

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wisteria-cherry · 3 months

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in which you discover the true nature of the marauders' relationship with severus snape, as told by remus

angst

it was no secret that the marauders most certainly had a rivalry with severus snape. snape would constantly be looking for ways to get the boys expelled, and, in turn, the marauders would play pranks on him, and occasionally even duel him. however, it wasn't until deep into your friendship with the marauders that you discovered the true nature of their relationship.

it was a late night, and the gryffindor common room was empty, save for you. you were cramming a notably last-minute essay when you heard padded footsteps descending the stairs.

“hello.” remus sat down next to you.

“couldn’t sleep?” you glance up at him.

“no. homework?”

“unfortunately.” you hum. “do you want to talk about it?”

“not particularly.” remus replied, and it was quiet for a few moments before you decided to make conversation again.

“heard you lot had a row with snape today.”

“don’t remind me.” remus replied bitterly.

“did it not go well?” you scratch out a misspelling on your parchment and rewrite it.

“no, they won. er, we won.” remus corrected himself.

“so what’s the dilemma, then?” you ask, somewhat absentmindedly, focused on the parchment that was half full, but was supposed to be two full rolls by the morning. remus dragged his hands down his face frustratedly, looking up at the ceiling.

“i don’t—“ remus cut himself off. “never mind, it’s nothing.”

“i’ve got time.” you remind him.

“i’d be distracting you.”

“no more than you are already.”

“if you insist.” you felt remus adjust his position on the couch. “i just… well, we bully severus.”

“it’s a two-way street, isn’t it?” you look up at remus, somewhat startled at his claim. “he’s always trying to get you lot in trouble.”

“most of the time he does that, we’re doing things we aren’t supposed to.” remus points out. “and i hate whenever we start things with him.”

“why is that?” you sit up from your hunched-over state, now focused on your friend.

“because he’s never doing anything.” remus looked down at his hands, tracing the scars. “he’s just walking down the hall, or reading a book.”

“oh.” your voice goes quiet, because you’re not sure how to respond. you’d never gotten involved in the bouts with snape. all your information had come secondhand, usually in the form of james and sirius dramatically recreating encounters in the common room after dinner. it was news to you to hear that severus wasn’t the one making the first move.

“and i hate fighting him, too. four on one. it’s cowardly.” remus’ face contorted in disgust. “but i have to support the guys.”

“do you?” you look over at him earnestly, and he finally met your eye.

“yeah, i do.” he answers. “they’re my mates. the only ones i’ve got. it’s not like they’re bad people. it’s just… severus. any other prank, and the person probably deserves it.” remus leaned back on the couch and let out a deep sigh.

“but snape, he isn’t always minding his business.” you point out, but you know it's a downhill battle.

“that’s true.” remus agrees reluctantly. “and i suppose i don’t mind it so much, then. but when he is, i just… merlin, i don’t know. prongs always says he’s up to something, but we all know it’s because he’s jealous of severus and lily.”

"...are you going to do anything about it?" you ask after a few moments.

"i try to, every time. i try to talk him out of it. but he rarely listens. and i won't leave him to fight by himself." remus answers. no wonder remus is a gryffindor. he was loyal to a fault, laying aside his own integrity for the sake of his mates. but it wasn't that bad, was it? like you'd said, snape started things, too.

"i see." you lean back against the couch with him. "it's complicated, isn't it?"

"it is," remus agrees. "i prefer not to think about it too hard."

"me too." you nod, and remus sits up.

"need any help on your homework? quite frankly, i'd rather do that than rethink my moral values." he offers, and you glance down at your messy setup.

"might as well." you sigh. "it needs to be done by tomorrow, and i'm hardly a fourth of the way through with it."

"alright, then." remus bends over to look at what you had, his elbows resting on his knees. "let's get to work."

#harry potter marauders #the marauders map #marauders era #marauders #marauders map #the marauders #the marauders era #james potter #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #moony #padfoot #prongs #wormtail #platonic

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brook-e-lynns · 1 year

Text

SO IN LOVE | FRANKIE MORALES |

Summary: you and Frankie have a baby

Warnings: fluff, fear of hospitals, and childbirth.

Word count : 1.1K

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Pedro Masterlist

“Babe, can we please go to the hospital” Frankie pleads. You had been in labor for the past three hours

your contractions slowly getting closer together but you knew you still had time “ no, contractions are still four minutes apart” though he knew your reason for not wanting to go to the hospital early, that reason being that you were terrified of hospitals so having to be stuck there was something you didn’t want. “we were supposed to go when they were five minutes apart” he argues. And then it hits you, the worst contraction you’ve had. your head leaning against Frankie shoulder, your arms wrapped around his neck, Frankie rubs against your stomach trying to soothe you as best as he can, your hips swaying from side by side as your hums slowly become pained groans. “I’m so scared” you cry “I know but I’ll be with you the whole way” you knew he was scared to mainly because he couldn’t do anything to ease your pain “ but the longer we wait the less likely you’ll be able to get an epidural” that was enough to scare you more “okay let’s go” you panic you brace yourself resting a hand on top of your belly slowly making your way to the truck. Frankie runs to grab the hospital bag and car seat returning to you with his hand on the small of your back while he holds the car seat in the other the bag slung over his shoulder. Frankie quickly puts the stuff in the backseat before running to your side of the car helping you in your hand holding your belly from underneath. You finally sit down when Frankie helps you buckle. “ Let's go have a baby” he says before pressing a kiss to your temple before climbing into his seat starting the engine. You put your hand on the back of Frankie’s neck letting your fingers run through the loose curls the poke out from his ball cap placing a comforting hand onto your thigh, his thumb running against your leg. You were about five minutes into your fifteen minute drive. When you start contracting again Frankie moves his hand from your thigh to rest on the top of your bump. your other hand meeting with his. Your face scrunches up during your contraction letting out a low moan while trying to breathe “that was definitely less than three minutes' ' Frankie stresses there’s a hint of panic in his voice. “Francisco please do not let me have this baby in the car” you sob, gripping his hand. “ it’s okay we’re almost there baby just hang on” he reassured three more minutes that’s all you had to wait until you get to the hospital.

You’ve been at the hospital for about an hour. They have checked your dilation every half hour moving from a five to a six only dilating a centimeter every time you're checked. Frankie's mom finally showed up once they were trying to get you an epidural. “oh cariño” she worries, rushing to your side grabbing your hand “ any news?” She asks “I’m six centimeters and about to get my epidural” you respond as the nurses start prepping for your epidural, which was absolutely terrifying to see. You sat up Frankie in front of you holding your hands while they numb your lower back. You keep repeating in your head it’ll all be worth it.

Everything started to speed up after that, you were nearly fully dilated and there were midwives surrounding you. Frankie can tell that you're scared, all of the people giving you even more anxiety. “Everything’s okay, look at me don’t look at them” he brings his hand against your cheek his thumb moving back and forth. So you watch Frankie until they are ready. “Ready to have a baby mama?” One of the nurses asked. Your legs are propped in the stirrups Frankie’s hand on the back of your thigh supporting you, his mother doing the same on the other side. You continue breathing and everything is moving so fast and you're scared of absolutely everything that could happen. You were pushing, crying in pain and holding your breath but you were so close. “Your crowning mama keep at it” but everything burns, you're tired and scared that you can’t do it, your legs are shaking. You were nearly there with only a few pushes left and you would have your baby with you and it would all be over, and that was just the right motivation you needed. “One more and it’s all over!” She cheers you on. The instant relief after pushing for the final time, your baby cries fill the room and that’s when she brings the weight of your baby to your chest, both you and Frankie crying, your hand rubbing against her back as her cries ease slowly quieting. “That was the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever done” you admit which a choking cry, Frankie let’s out a soft chuckle leaning down to kiss you. “I’m so in love with you” Frankie whispers to you before kissing your temple.

They took her to clean her up and start her testing which she passed them all before they wrapped her in a blanket and a little pink hat with a large bow. Frankies mother left to sit in the waiting room with the rest of the group so you and Frankie can spend some alone time with her. Frankie cuddles up next to you on the bed while you hold her. You spent the next half an hour going through baby names before you finally found one you both liked. You both allow the guys to come in and meet her. All of them coming in with gift bags and balloons in their hands “how are you feeling” Will asks, reaching to give you a hug “I’m doing good” you answer, fixing her hat. They all gather around you watching her in awe, she sticks her tongue out opening her eyes a little bit. “ These are your uncles,” you say to her, stroking her cheek with your finger. “Meet Maisie Louise Morales”

#frankie morales fluff #Frankie morales x pregnant reader #Frankie morales #frankie morales triple frontier #triple frontier #frankie morales angst #frankie morales x reader

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weswhoreland · 5 months

Text

results may vary

wes borland x afab!reader

teen and up 1032 words read on ao3

Three minutes.

It takes three minutes for the test to run, and three minutes for you to find out if your lives are changing forever. Your nerves are on edge. They’ve been on edge since the realization came to you this morning.

Wes, I’m late. I need to take a test.

Normally, you’re good at keeping your emotions under wraps. Better than you used to be, at least. But when you confronted Wes in the bedroom, you were anything but calm. You couldn’t help it. Your mind was racing with a million possibilities, a million what ifs.

A test? He’d asked. You rolled your eyes.

Pregnancy. Test. Come on.

If it takes two to tango, it takes two to find out whether that tango resulted in something. So, you’d dragged Wes to the drugstore with you. Maybe it’s for moral support, or maybe it’s to get a feeling of how he’s reacting to this. Either way, he comes with you. By the time you get home, you’re even more on edge. You immediately disappear into the bathroom.

The process is simple enough, you know. And as you take the test, you stare down at the box.

Results in three minutes.

Now, with a timer set, you wait. You and Wes are sitting on the floor of your bathroom, backs pressed against the sink counter. On the ledge above you, the test waits. Neither of you wanted to watch. If it’s negative, you’re fairly certain you’ll cry from relief. If it’s positive… Honestly, you aren’t quite sure what you’ll do.

So you wait.

You and Wes haven’t had much time to discuss this, yet. You’ve been so busy this morning, between the drugstore visit and the panicking. And admittedly, this isn't a discussion you've had in general -- whether or not the two of you want kids. A baby with Wes sounds... well, nice, admittedly. You can picture it in your head, now: a tiny baby with dark hair and deep brown eyes, all bundled up while Wes holds them. The thought alone is precious, cute enough to calm your nerves just a little. But...

Both of you are so young. Young, and... well, busy. Wes is gone a lot, and you have your own obligations. Should you really have a baby now? Would it really be the smartest thing to do with how chaotic your lives are right now?

You don't know. This fear alone has kept you from discussing it with him. You wish you knew how to feel. Things like this are supposed to come with clear emotions. But… that’s not what you’re feeling. Not at all. Mostly, you just feel stupid. You know how to prevent pregnancy, but both of you have been slacking lately. (It just feels better, okay?) Now, whether you like it or not, there's a possibility you're pregnant. And the two of you can't avoid this discussion now.

Wes seems to get that memo, at least.

“So,” he starts. “If it’s positive–”

He’s picked up on the fact that you aren’t bursting at the seams with joy. Of course. You haven't exactly been subtle, and Wes is always in tune with your emotions. You deflate a little.

“Then I guess we’re having a baby," you reply.

"You don't seem too happy about that."

You want to protest, to tell him he's wrong. But -- in a way, he's not. You’re not devastated at the idea that you might be pregnant, but you're not happy either. You're feeling a million things at once, but --

Mostly, you're scared.

"I'm not unhappy about it," you point out. "I just -- I don't know."

You feel the familiar sting at the corners of your eyes. You shouldn't be crying over this. You don't want to cry over this. And yet, here you are.

You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that the feeling of Wes's hand on your own nearly startles you. He's looking at you now, his own hand resting on top of yours where it rests on the floor. It's a tender gesture, one that almost makes you want to cry even more.

“Whatever happens," Wes starts. "It'll be okay. We'll be okay. And -- whatever you want to do, I'll support you."

Now that opens the floodgates. You can't help yourself. You let yourself cry, feeling the emotions wash over you. You know Wes is telling the truth. No matter what happens -- whether you're pregnant or not -- Wes has your back. He'll be there for you. You love this man more than anything. Your partner -- in every single way.

It's enough to help calm your nerves for the last minute. Then, the timer goes off.

You silence the alarm. Brushing away the remaining tears, you know you need to do this. You can't avoid it, not now. You reach up and grab the test from its place on the ledge. For the briefest of moments, you don't want to look. Then, bracing yourself, you do.

One line.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Negative,” you announce. “I’m not pregnant.”

The relief is instantaneous. You're not pregnant. You and Wes aren't having a baby. Maybe you should feel bad for being this relieved, but you can see it written on Wes's face, too. He's just as relieved as you are. He's just less willing to show it.

"It's okay," you say, "if you're relieved too."

And at that, Wes lets out a little breath.

"It's not that I'm relieved. I just--"

"Wes," you assure him. "I get it. I feel the same way."

You need to be honest with him.

"I do want this with you," you continue. "A family. Eventually. But -- I'm not ready yet."

Wes visibly deflates.

"I'm not either," he admits. "Ready, I mean. But -- I want that too, one day."

One day, both of you will be ready. One day you'll see two lines pop up and be thrilled, overjoyed at the family the two of you are starting together. But that day isn't today.

Today, you're just grateful. Grateful, and so in love with this man.

"One day," you repeat. You smile at him, reassuring. And then Wes is smiling too.

"Yeah," he agrees. "One day."

#limp bizkit fanfiction #wes borland x reader #mine

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just-your-average-cryptid · 6 months

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I feel like the reason some fandoms get so hostile and cannibalize each other over ship wars and callout chains is that they’ve stalled their “complex media analysis” growth.

I mean think about it. Most kid’s shows deal with pretty simple concepts like “sharing is good!” and “lying is wrong!”, very black and white takes on very easy-to-understand issues. There’s some notable exceptions, especially in more teen-focused media (ATLA being a prime example for genocide and the complex reality of war,) but generally speaking everything is surface-level escapism with easy morals.

Compare that to more “adult” media and the mindset is wildly different. The themes are way more complex, the morals are grayer and blurrier, there’s symbolism and metaphors and all that good deep-level stuff.

Crucially, though, the latter requires you to engage with it beyond observation.

If you’ve been in online fandom spaces, especially on (shudder) Twitter, you’ve seen the damage of “the curtains were just blue!” So many people just refuse to engage with media beyond the surface level. Everything is escapism, because what other purpose do stories serve? And in that mindset, anything complex or gray means you support those actions and ideas, because you’re escaping to a world where this happens. Media is supposed to turn your brain off for a bit, not force you to grapple with the horrors of our society and question the views you uphold. Analysis is to find the One True Interpretation and lord it over everyone else.

In case you couldn’t tell, that last bit was sarcastic.

So you have a bunch of people only looking at the surface level and only engaging with the material as entertainment, as something you watch for fun and nothing else.

This isn’t to say this is all of fandom - for my fellow good omens fans, please keep analyzing every second for more devastating fascinating details. But I’ve seen enough secondhand complaints from people I follow and screenshots to know this is a real issue for a lot of online fandoms.

No, a character doing a Bad Thing does not inherently mean the author/creator supports the bad thing. Yes, even if the protagonist does it.

Neither characters nor real people are purely good or evil. Stop trying to make that true, it never will be.

On that note, sometimes very nice-looking people do horrible things and still act nicely to others. Sometimes people who seem very cold are the kindest you’ll ever meet. First impressions are not the full picture, in fiction or reality.

(Abusers are very, very good at seeming like such nice people to everyone else.)

Yeah, some stories are just brainless entertainment. But you should still be critical - actually critical, not criticizing, there’s a huge difference - of what you see and what you think. Sometimes it IS that deep. And writers love when you notice the breadcrumbs! It means they did their jobs well :)

If you’re not sure where to start, try stuff like this:

What visuals or ideas are repeated? Could it be a symbol or motif?

Why does this action seem “out of character?” Is there anything from their past/background that might provide context to what they did? (Tbf, this one can just as easily be “we don’t care about continuity, this is a Marvel movie”)

What is the arc for this character? How do they change or evolve? Alternatively, why don’t they change?

What real-world issues could this be a proxy for? What does it say about the creator’s views?

#it speaks #media analysis #fandom

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heroes-of-olympus-next-gen · 1 year

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Day 5: Gingerbread house

The one thing that Annabeth takes seriously more than anything else is making gingerbread houses. It was the one thing she did every Christmas even when she was a child, later in Camp with her siblings and definitely when she grew older. Being an architect on the top of the field was a bonus when it came to making realistic gingerbread houses. It was the only tradition that she held onto. After Charlie and Zoe were born she started making them their own Gingerbread houses and she gave them frosting to decorate them.

But her yearly activity turned to a family tradition when it turned out that Zoe, Charlie and Theo had inherited Annabeth’s ability to make gingerbread houses. Zoe especially was putting her on a run for her money. Which could only mean one thing; family Gingerbread competition that Lana and Percy would decide which one was the best.

“Don’t you think gingerbread houses with gingerbread men in them are kinda morbid? I mean, it’s a house made out of flesh.” Charlie said after he watched Zoe put Gingerbread men outside her house.

“They’ll be fine. It isn’t that morbid.” Zoe said and took a better look at her house. “Is it morbid, Teddy?” She asked her younger brother who had been awfully quiet for the past hour, busy putting together his masterpiece.

“The whole thing is a bit morbid if you think about it. Globalisation and us commercialising the holidays.” Theo replied.

“Boo, you’re ruining the Christmas spirit.” Zoe claimed as the kitchen door opened.

“Hey! You aren’t supposed to be here!” Theo said as Bianca entered.

“Hi bestie.”

“I am not a judge. I came for moral support.” She explained as she left four coffees on a chair. “I even brought you all coffee.”

“Thanks, Bee.” Charlie said trying not to get distracted by his girlfriend. Theo noticed that which only made him reply, “Actually, you can stay. For as long as you want.”

“I’ll go sit with Lana and Jasmine.” Bianca said before she went to the living room.

Zoe stopped decorating as she took her coffee from the chair. “How is the house going, mum?”

“I think it might be my best yet.” Annabeth replied as Zoe handed her the coffee.

“I’ll only believe you when I see it.”

“How much time do we have left?” Charlie asked as he was getting distracted.

“One hour.” Percy shouted from the other room.

An hour later, the four of them were done. They hadn’t seen the finished results as they were all focused on their own designs. The winner was going to get to pick the movie they would watch on Christmas and get the huge box that nobody knew what it contained except from Percy, Lana and Bianca.

“Can we come inside?” Lana asked, annoyed that she couldn’t come in the kitchen for four hours.

“Yes, love.” Annabeth replied as her twelve-year-old daughter marched inside.

“Who’s presenting the houses?” Percy asked. Theo, Zoe, and Charlie turned to Bianca.

“So, that’s why I’m here.” Bianca said in a knowing tone. “I thought we were going shopping.”

“We are. After you present the houses and mum gets crowned winner for the hundredth time.” Zoe replied.

“Okay, then.”

Theo had gone with a futuristic design and Charlie with a New York townhouse. Both very impressive, but they couldn’t reach Zoe’s or Annabeth’s designs. Zoe had baked a Victorian mansion with crazy details. And Annabeth? She had made a gingerbread version of their home. Down to the last doorknob, everything was identical to their own.

“I think it’s a draw.” Lana said after she had talked about it with Percy. “Between mum and Zoe.”

“I think Zoe should win.” Annabeth rebutted.

“What?”

“Really?”

“Mum, no. It’s fine. My feelings won’t get hurt if I don’t win. I know that I’m always a year closer to winning.” Zoe said smiling. Annabeth knew she meant it. She was the biggest fighter out of her kids. The most resilient and goal driven.

“I know your feelings won’t get hurt. But if you want to lose so you can beat me fair and square with a big gap between the two houses, I’m on your side.” Annabeth replied.

“I just want to see what’s in the big box.” Zoe whispered.

“You can open it instead of me.”

“I won’t take away your joy.”

“Speaking of joy. Does anyone else want to get a hammer and eat my house.” Theo suggested.

“Everyone knows you’re not actually supposed to eat the gingerbread house. Those things are stale as hell.” Charlie replied.

“I am getting the hammer.”

“Not until Christmas you aren’t.” Percy declared.

“Anyway. Some of us have to get their Christmas shopping done.” Zoe said as she motioned Bianca and Charlie to stand up.

“Do you have money?” Annabeth asked.

“Yes, the video games pay well.” Charlie replied. For the past three months, he had been coding for a company and had even pitched them a video game idea, which gave him some money to have except from his allowance.

“What are you getting for Bianca?” Lana asked.

“That’s a secret.” Charlie replied. “Who is driving?”

“I am.” Bianca took out her car keys. “Bye!”

“Drive safely!” Percy told them as the door closed.

“I am going upstairs.” Lana told them.

“Okay, darling.”

A few seconds the kitchen got too quiet. “I never thought you would let Zoe win.” Percy stated.

“She’s going to outsmart me. Any day now. And I’m proud of that. Because we made it happen. I mean she got in Early Decision for MIT. They rejected me both early and regular decision. I am preparing myself. But I can’t not be overly excited about her. She’s my baby.”

“Can you believe it that this time next year, Zoe and Charlie will be coming home from college?”

“I can’t. It feels like yesterday when we were in the old apartment, celebrating their first Christmas.”

#percy and annabeth #annabeth chase #annabeth #annabeth chase fanfic #percabeth fanfic #percy jackson fic #percabeth #percy jackson #percabeth family #percabeth babies #percababies #zoe jackson #charlie jackson #theo jackson #lana jackson #hoo #pjo #pjo next gen #christmas 2022

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ibrahimnerde · 2 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering about your opinion of Gulfem Hatun? I know she’s supposed to be a center, the just person in the harem but the writers seem to be indecisive about that.

I believe the writers probably wanted to do more with Gulfem hatun but kinda ran out for ideas? Or couldn’t insert those ideas within the plot because she gets less important to the story, which is such a shame I wished they utilized her more.

Gulfem is definitely a case of her own, while everyone is fighting for what they desire, she doesn’t seem to necessarily desire anything for her personal interest. Yeah she wants peace in the harem which is great, but when you compare her needs to like Hurrem , Mahi and Hatice she appears much more selfless and more peaceful which kinda doesn’t fit with the environment and with how the writers created female characters. They all have personal goals and they are all fighting while she is just trying to exist.

Something I personally wished the writers would make is to have Gulfem be neutral when it comes to Mahi and Hurrem or have her support Hurrem to provoke Mahi (like Mahi rooting for the Russian slaves or any concubine just to provoke Hurrem). Like I don’t understand how why were they sooo peaceful with each other from the start, I understand their acceptance in later seasons because well Gulfem got nothing to do about it and she doesn’t have a son either so why create problems yk but in the first episodes I wished they wouldn’t show them as allies , not necessarily hostile towards each other, but at least not friends. I remember Mahi told Hurrem that she won’t make it easy for her like she didn’t make it easy for Gulfem…here a proof that they weren’t lovey dovey to each other so what happened? The writers just throw that they weren’t great before and that’s it, they don’t work on that part or even hint what stopped them from being hostile towards each other.

Later Gulfem would just be Hatice’s bestie, she doesn’t influence Hatice’s decisions positively or negatively she just follows what Hatice does. I wouldn’t say they don’t love each other , no Hatice clearly loves Gulfem, she shows Gulfem her venerability, have her know her psychotic plans and tells her her secrets. Gulfem too she could have just gave up on Hatice but no she stayed , while her presence didn’t make Hatice better in sense of her actions, the fact that Gulfem stayed despite knowing Hatice isn’t mentally stable proves that she cared. Again a missed opportunity they could’ve had Gulfem knock some sense into Hatice head and make her think right, instead they just shoved her in the storyline without having her take part of it.

In SO4 that’s when it gets somewhat interesting, Gulfem switches sides at the end and opened up to Hurrem a bit. Not because I love Hurrem, but because it simply showed a little bit of a personality in Gulfem, while Ik that probably happened because Hurrem was the only one there but still…a change. Gulfem trying to kill SS is the peak of her development, yes she failed and got killed instead but the fact that we saw the little delicate Gulfem who was just a follower trying to kill SS even when many odds are against her (like she is in his chamber) just because she think he is morally fucked up and doesn’t deserve to live , that’s a bold and new move to her. She died but kudos to the girl she tried, I personally think that’s the best ending the writers could’ve provided her , they could’ve just have her die of a natural cause , but it is way more interesting to me to see someone like her take that move knowing so well whether she kills SS or not, she will die either ways.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #gulfem hatun #there was so much that could’ve been done with her #missed opportunity

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cherryredmistakes · 2 years

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Okay I know nobody with probably read this, but if you have the time I could really appreciate the moral support/advice on this matter. Anyways, I’ve never really talked about this before without hiding a lot about it/making it seem lighter and not a problem but here I go!

So there’s this medication called hydroxozine/vistaril and the highest dose is supposed to be 100mg and anything more is a medical overdose (or so I’ve heard) when I was in inpatient for the 2nd time in January they gave me some to help my anxiety/sleep deprivation one night

then when I went home they gave me a bottle of it (25mg each) and it was okay I would take one whenever I needed to and then I started slowly increasing how much I was taking to 2-4 which Is a fine amount! It’s only 50-100 mg. But I started taking more and more and eventually started taking 6-8 at a time (150-200mg) and

then I ran out but since I only took them once or twice a week she didn’t suspect anything since I could have up to 2 a day as needed and when I asked her if I could get bumped up to 50mg she asked how much was the most if taken at I time and I said 2 (a lie) and I started taking 3-5 a time of those (150-250mg) which I luckily didn’t “overdose” on ever because you can’t overdose from it but there is a max your supposed to not take more than, which I was. Every thing was time and I continued taking them whenever I was getting really anxious (which was often) or felt like I was about to have an outburst/having an outburst (which Is another story)

but then 2 weeks ago my mom and I were in a fight and she took away my phone and I started screaming at her about how if I couldn’t talk to one of my friends I didn’t want to live anymore and I wanted to kms, and then I locked myself in the bathroom with a bottle of hydroxozine/vistaril and took 3 (150mg) as I’ve done a million times before, and she called the cops/paramedics and I opened the door for them to the bathroom and told them about how much I took but never said that I’ve done it before. They took me to the hospital (per my moms request) in the ambulance (which sucks ass btw there not as fun as they look) and I got in to a room and they put those little stickers on me and they told me that since I took that much my heart might feel like beating a lot Or however you say it and this was when I realized That taking that much might be a bad thing. I had thought I’m the past about how I was probably taking to much and might have a problem but never really thought about it all that much.

I got sent to inpatient (for the 3rd time) and I had to leave after a week because my insurance wouldn’t cover it. But during inpatient I kept really wanting to take more of it and like craving the feeling of it? But they couldn’t legally give me more than 100mg and would only give me 50mg every 8 hours. I started thinking about asking for one in the morning and then not taking it and 8 hours later do the same, and then another 8 hours later take all of them. I never ended up doing this because my friends there talked me out of it, but on my last day there (or second to last) in group therapy I talked about how much I was taking “to sleep” and the therapist telling me it was an overdose and was like shocked I was taking that much. I didn’t tell them about how often I was doing it or that I liked the feeling or that I was craving it, just that I would take a few to many to help me sleep on occasion.

When I got home I had a hard time and almost ran away from the restaurant we were at because I was having a really hard time (why run away? I have no idea) but I didn’t. When I got home I got I’m a fight, or more of had an outburst because she said I had to give my phone to her at 10pm and she’s caused me trauma by neglecting me in the past so I have a hard time letting her parent me/giving her control. When I calmed down a bit I went to get hydroxozine (which I was waiting for and not exited but something like that I guess) and she locked it up! I know that’s the right thing to do but I started *screaming* at her to give the bottle to me, and then for “just a few” and she threatened to flush them (btw I have a really hard time when I’m having outburst and I don’t remember a lot of it/the timeline of everything it all kind of blurs together so this might be a little off from how it happened (sorry)). But she said she would give me one and when she opened the med box I tried to take the bottle, but since I’m not Strom and have barley any muscle (due to anorexia) she took it and then said she was going on a walk.

That was basically it. But I really want to “overdose” on it again and take more than 100mg and I don’t know what to do and if this is normal or even what it is or what you would call it? She’s been leaving 1 out every night in case I need it and I’ve been taking them and hiding them in my room saving up in case it need them because I don’t want to waste them as much as I’m craving it

I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to talk to anyone (not on tumblr) about this

#mental illness #girlblogging #girl blogger #girlblogger #help i’m so tired #mood disorder #mood swings #depression #anxitey #hydroxyzine #vistaril #substance abuse?#prescription meds #help #advice?

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starvs-terraverse · 2 years

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I Will Tell Your Story.....

Poster art celebrating the entering of the second Destiny reveal arc. (got a little tried of drawing all the people, so the quality goes down a bit DX.) Now that you've been introduced to Z and N, and given a few of the puzzle pieces, we can start going more into what Destiny's life is like as a time traveler, and what she was actually doing. The mission, and the strange book she had. As you can see here, we have Destiny looking to the sky, reminiscing on the people she's met. With some of the people she's had a more prominent hand in the story of, looking down on here. (There are three past queens, who I rushed posting today and yesterday because I really wanted to share this XD) I really like the stories I've come up with, but I'm not too sure my execution is great. It's taken so long to get here, and I hope I can give a proper and enjoyable story to all of you. So as I said, we'll be going into more of the story of what Destiny does when time traveling. All the past queens and their stories are brought to you by Destiny, as she was a "historian" As some of you might have figured out, I'm a bit of a tragic writer, I like phycological horror and questioning morality. And that's what we're going into. (also note that Destiny and her story are inspired by "Puella Madoka Magica" XP. take with that what you will >: ) ) So we'll be diving into the pain of being a time traveler. Of having to watch and know as your friends die, and there's nothing you can do about it. And sometimes when you are supposed to play a role in history, it's not always a role of a saint. The morality of time traveling and not stopping things like racism and wars, cause you can't, watching as people get hurt. Destiny knew her mother was going to die, knew Neptune was going to die, knew Wardrobe would be sent to her, and she didn't and couldn't do anything. Having pre-acquired knowledge can leave you feeling dull and immune. The words in this image are taken and inspired by the song "Tell your story." By Derivakat on YouTube, who makes amazing music. During my distant year and a few months mental health break, I got quite into the Mcyt community, discovered her, and got really inspired. When I heard this song, I know it just fit Destiny and the story I want to tell. The song is about a character Karl, who is also a time traveler, who has to watch his friends through history die. (Destiny and him have a lot in common on the outer shell as you can see X). ) Here is the song if you are intrested: www.youtube.com/watch?v=aybixb… P.s. Don't mind me singing and bopping in the comments XD, I really love this song. Thanks for reading guys. I really appreciate all of you and the support I've gotten. I hope I can present you with a fun story and continue to improve.

#svtfoe #svtfoe au #terra verse #destinys collide

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drkoestersmithrpg · 2 years

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Big Sigh Of Relief

You can’t IMAGINE what this year has been like.

In addition to an incredible work load like no other I’ve had in my career (and apparently no other school had - remind me to tell you what I found out when I went to the training with teachers from multiple elementary schools yesterday. But you’ll get a better idea when you see the news report he made for Media) I had non-stop issues with my youngest son. Mainly - How He Was Going To Pass 9th Grade.

In the first semester he had this HORRIBLE bs class called “Leadership” that he only took because he felt pressured into it. I helped him out a lot because it was a bullshit class that he just needed to survive, not a place where he really needed to learn anything.

I was a lot harder on him in English because reading and comprehension is, fundamentally, the most important thing you will ever learn. I didnt mind helping him with writing fiction beause (a) most people AREN’T gonig to go writing fiction for a living/hobbie, and (2) I write fiction in my sleep.

So I pulled him along, sometimes by the teeth, all his stuff in English, and helped him very liberally with Media when it became VERY apparent he wouldn’t be taking any more media again since he had NO interest in photography or news reports.

Oklahoma History, however, was something I insisted he work hard it, because this was a course that EVERYONE needed (and everyone in his family* had [his dad and I were both born and rasied here] It’s just a part of your education.) I also pointed out OFTEN that he was LUCKY he was getting a pretty good education on this issue since his his Dad and I just got coaches for history teachers who really didn’t care about the subject.

But here is the problem - his anxiety is so bad that he can barely work on anything without me sitting right beside him, either JUST as Moral Support or activly helping him. No matter HOW EASY the task was (well, to ME it seems easy, anyway. He just had to read a paragraph, write one sentence from it. Listen to a radio show, write down things he found interesting. Pick up pictures and put them in his document, etc.) he simply COULDN’T do it unless I was sitting next to him.

We had already just accepted the fact that he was going to get a zero on his Oklahoma Time Line project. I simply COULDN’T do that AND get his Media Project finished at the same time.

Thing is - if he FAILS history, he’ll HAVE to take it again. Probably this summer.

Last night, about 8 o’clock, when I was practically shaking with exhaustion and aching from head to toe from a two-hour-rush-packing situation at school, I found myself saying “He may just have to take Oklahoma History in the summer. I’ve done everything I can.”

I had given him a task to finishe while I went to the garage and arranged some place to store school stuff so I could empty out the car, at least enough that I could see to drive.

ALL he had to do was play the audio file and look for pictures about this one dude who was from Oklahoma - an ARTIST with many famous paintings, so there was a TON of pictures on line assosiated with him. When I got back he had turned off the audio and hadn’t gotten a single picture since the first one he found.

He can’t even explain WHY he just stops. He just stops.

So I sat next to him and pulled him through this project, just like all the others. We were supposed to have a teleconference that night with his doctor to talk about incresing the dosage of his anxiety meds or changing them completely, but after a half hour of frustration when we couldn’t get to the meeting/find out what our password was supposed to be/played tag with telephones only to find out his doctor is in France and the apt wasn’t scheduled with him, it just didn’t happen.

But this is a HAPPY story because I JUST found out he got 2 good grades on the last projects I pulled him through, and is actually getting an A in Oklahoma History right now, which means when it all falls out he’ll get a passing grade.

He had to do a report on the Tulsa Race Massacre, which COULD have been as easy as watching the documentary and writing 5 paragraphs about it. But watching horrible events in history is VERY traumatic for him and me both. So we focused on the possitive - spent extra time researching how BEAUTIFUL and important Black Wall Street had been, and then skipping ahead to the modern day and how LUCKY he is to be learning about this at all, when his dad and I and our generation never knew about this event AT ALL. To that end we email-interviewed a friend in Tulsa, basically asking “how did YOU know about it and when?” His answer was very enlightening and we got to quote a good chunk of it directly. Jack got an A+ on that paper.

The other project (one of the ones he simply ignored and I found out about it by accident, kind of like his State History Timeline project) was “A tiktok style video Civil Rights project, about Tulsa, or Sundown Towns, or Themla Parks etc.” I suggested he tell his teacher “My family doesn’t do tictok, but we DO know the man who wrote the definitive paper proving that Norman (where we live) was a Sundown town” and just turn in an interview with this guy we go to church with. For that project he got a 13/15 - which is VERY GOOD considering (a) we ignored the directions directly and (2) the sound quality is TERRIBLE since we interviewed him via zoommeeting and recorded it via Screencastomatic.

Now there’s nothing to do but wait for the grade for his Media Project (WAIT until you see it - it’s AMAZING, due entirely to the video editing skills of his brother) but in any case he will pass Media (he already has a good grade due to the photography project I pulled him through by the skin of his teeth.)

OH AND MY 18 YEAR OLD IS GRADUATING HIGH SCHOOL TONIGHT. Thank God my husband took over ALL duties detailing that or I would have NO IDEA what was going on.

I’ve been running full-speed non-stop for the past two weeks. To the point where I’m not 100% sure I CAN slow down. Kind of dreading what happens when I do.

Happily, fanfic will be there for me when I need to collapse.

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writer-akihiko · 3 years

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Hi! If that's okay could i request some angst for the first years (+Grim, Crewel and Crowley? Platonic only for them)

MC/Yuu runs away from NRC due to all the shit they've been put through because of Crowley not doing his job, they do finally find them some days later but MC refuses to go back to NRC and tells Crowley that they despise him.

Reactions?

First Years + MC Running Away [+Plat!Crewel & Crowley]

I love the angst for this, and planning the emotions that they would feel! The dorm leaders also make a cameo in Crewel and Crowley's part. Cut for length.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Emotional Manipulation, Curse Words, Wounds and Mild Violence. Please read at your own discretion.

"I'm not going back."

"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"

No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was in a dilemma. He wanted to go back to NRC because of Malleus, but you refused to. You still meant a lot to him of course, but he still wanted to stay in NRC. He reached out to you, holding you in place with his Fae strength.

"YN, we have to go back. Please don't be unreasonable," He begged. There was no way he wasn't going without you.

You shook your head, trying to tug against Sebek as much as possible. There was no way you could fight against him, and you wouldn't want to hurt him either. "Sebek... Sebek just let me go. I'm just a human and..."

The moment was ruined with Crowley showing up, yelling at Sebek to bring you back. You mustered as much of your voice as you could. "No! Don't take me back!" You screamed at Sebek, who was holding you in a lock. "I hate him! I hate him, don't do this to me Sebek!"

His grip almost loosened at you saying you hated Crowley. Actually, he thought it was directed at him. It took a lot of effort for Sebek not to cry because he knew. He knew how much you didn't deserve the things you faced. The Overblots, the treatment and sheer alienation from other students, Crowley's neglect... He knew.

He blamed himself for getting so caught up in what his Master was doing that he forgot to care about you. When he found out that you ran away, he felt as if he deserved it. He pulled you in, tucking you against his chest and allowing you to cry.

He didn't bring you closer to the others, neither did he bring you away. He kept you close to him, as your tears stained his perfect uniform. Not a word came from him when you cried into him. It was kept that way, as the half-Fae dared to growl at Crowley and anyone else that took a step closer to you.

"YN... You're safe with me, alright?"

Ace Trappola

He told himself that he wouldn't get mad, but your refusal just rubbed salt in wounds as he remembered the sleepless nights of trying to find you. Beneath all of it, he was scared. He was scared that he lost you to some one else. He was scared that this world never suited you, and you finally went to your own, leaving him alone.

"What do you mean you're not going back?! YN, stop screwing around with me!" He screamed, throwing his magic pen to the ground. At this point, he was pissed about anything relating to magic. Magic was useless when it came to finding you.

"I'm not going so leave me alone Ace..." You told him, tears nearing at your eyes. "I don't want to. I don't want to. I'm done with Crowley's shit and I'm done with NRC."

You took a running start, but Ace caught you, pushing you to the ground. His expression caught you off-guard. He was crying, eyes puffy and tired as his face was pale, as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

"You're done?! How could you... I..." He didn't know what to say. You were right. You had dealt with enough. You never deserved it... If it weren't for him and his troublemaking ways... Maybe you wouldn't have to suffer...

"I'm sorry..." He coughed out, his voice strained. He kept you pinned on the ground, as his tears flowed with yours. "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I'm sorry for dragging you into trouble. I know you don't deserve it but I'm an asshole that does anyway..."

"Ace..."

"But!..." He went on, his eyes glossing over as he admired you once again. Oh... you were beautiful to him, even if you were crying in his arms. "But I'm selfish. I didn't want to let you go so I went after you instead... So hit me if you want, scream or punch me... I don't care, just don't leave me."

He sat up, pulling you into his lap, his chin under your head. "I was so lonely without you YN..."

"Godammit I love you..." He choked out, his tears never-ending. You both sat there, hugging each other as if it were your last days. You didn't dare to let go of him this time.

Deuce Spade

He didn't know how to respond. All he knew was that he had to hold onto you before you ran away from him once again. "YN... Wait... Don't leave!"

He wondered if he even made the right choice to stay on the side of bringing you back. From just the look of you, he knew you were tired. He knew those responsibilities were never yours. Your suffering just proved to Deuce how powerless he was. Maybe that's why he wanted to bring you back... as proof that he could do something for you.

"YN... I'm sorry..." He said, holding you close to him. There wasn't a thing he could do for you. All you went through... It was Crowley's irresponsibility. He did this to you. Deuce's grip tightened on you, as he though of what it could've done to your psyche. "YN... YN... I'll make sure he doesn't touch you. I'll make sure that he never comes near you again... YN, you trust me right?"

For all the times he wasn't with you, he was determined to make up for it. Deuce wasn't going to let you suffer through this alone, even if it means he gets hurt. It was better for him to get hurt than you, even though he was so desperate to ask Crowley to find you.

You nodded, hiding into Deuce's chest. His heart was beating so fast, most likely from the never ending search for you. You never regretted running away, but you missed Deuce and your other friends, and Grim too. The one thing you regretted was accepting Crowley's offer to stay here.

"I don't care what you do to me," You told him. "Just don't take me back. I don't to go back. I don't want to go back to NRC..." Your body trembled at the thought of moving back to NRC, but all thoughts of it were abandoned as you saw Crowley approach you.

You screamed, but he never touched you. Deuce stood in the way, as he shielded you with his own body. He pushed you back, as he grabbed tightly onto his magic pen. Abandoning all morals of propriety, he glared hard at the principal.

"...Don't touch her."

Jack Howl

He wasn't going to let you run away this time. "Don't move."

Jack couldn't believe that he found you so quickly. No, that wasn't it. He couldn't believe that you were still here. Despite him having a scent on you, you could've been miles away without him knowing. He thought you went back to your own world. He thought you hated him, but by the way you hugged him, it reassured him of any thoughts he had.

There was not single part of you that did not tremble when Jack told you he wanted to take you back. Your sheer refusal turned into an argument quickly, as you listed all the sufferings you went through. It was confusing and agonising for Jack to listen to you. He knew you needed this, but some of the things you said sent shivers down his spine.

"I…"

"It's okay YN. You don't have to go back," He whispered to you. Jack's ears flattened as yours tears made your eyes puffy. He got flustered since he didn't know how to comfort you any further, busying himself with wiping away your tears instead.

Jack was sharp. He knew Crowley was out to get you, even if you didn't want to. He wanted the easy way out, but Jack wasn't going to give him the chance. There was no reason why Jack shouldn't help you… but he'd be lying if he weren't scared of what would happen if you both were caught.

You and Jack had the same train of thought, so you shook your head. "No Jack… I have to…" You told him, your voice raspy. "You already found me and there's no use. You… You can't outrun him with me…"

Jack growled, baring his teeth at the person who caused you such misery. His claws were out, as he hid you behind him. You didn't make a sound, paralysed by the very person that pulled you in this hell. You only met eyes with Crowley for a moment, as the world swirled around you.

"I know I can't… But I'm sure as hell am going to try…" Jack ran away from the principal, with you tightly in his arms as he made a run for it.

Epel Felmier

He was more than angry. He never understood why you and him but now it was evident. It was because both of you were stubborn. You both always tried to grasp what you wanted, and in the light of attaining it, you both always made a run for it. For him it was power… and for you, it was freedom.

"Damn it!..." He cursed underneath his breath, quickly removing his jacket and covering your head in it. You were probably hungry and tired. You were probably scared. What was he supposed to do?...

How did it come to this? He was supposed to be the one that supported your desires, no matter how big or small as you did the same to him. But now, with him using Crowley to get to you… What was he doing? This was hurting you, not helping you.

He moved away from you, ripping off the magical tracking device off of him. "You damn liar!" He screamed. "How dare you hurt her like this… Do you think I'm some stupid puppet?! Like hell you're gonna reach her with my help!"

Epel stomped and tore the device apart, grunting at every time the magic deflection hit him. He didn't stop, ripping further into the grass as he cried for your sake. He never meant to do this to you. He got up, taking you by the wrist and pulling you much deeper into the forest.

"YN… YN we have to go. They were tracking me and they- they might…"

You stopped in your tracks.

"YN?"

You hugged Epel, holding him tight. He snapped out of his delusions, turning to panic about your well-being. "Are you hurt? If you can't walk I'll carry you, but we have to get away-"

"Stop Epel," You said, taking his hands into yours. "Stop… It's okay… I'm okay… I can't make it any further and I don't blame you… I just… wanted it to not hurt for a bit."

He broke down in your arms, as you both collapsed to the ground. Filled with exhaustion, you could only grip to his hands weakly. Before your eyes darkened, you remembered his last words.

"I'm sorry…"

Divus Crewel

He's horrified at your state. All his emotions were bottled for the time being. There was no reason for a puppy like you to be exposed to such horrid emotions from him. He shrugs off his fluffy coat, covering you in the coat, as he carries you in the coat.

Dire was quick to catch up to him, but alas, all that Divus had for him was disappointment. Even from teacher to teacher, no… even from magician to magician… all respect for Dire that he had vanished. The dorm leaders caught up with the principal, and from the looks of it, they were horrified.

"For this puppy to end up like this…"

No, he couldn't get angry now. He had to be the example to other students. Rosehearts, Al-Asim and Ashengrotto were in tears, while Draconia and Kingscholar were murderous. If it weren't the difference of authority, Divus would bet those two would maul Dire where he stood.

"Draconia. Schoenheit. Take YN away and treat her wounds," He commanded. Still wrapped in his coat, Malleus brought you to the others, as Vil observed for any of your wounds. Divus signalled the other students away as he took off one of his gloves, glaring at Dire. "I need to talk with the principal."

Dire was still, as Divus delivered a clean punch across his face. There was no need for further violence. It'd be an insult to what you suffered. Divus grabbed Dire by the collar, almost sneering at him. "Did you realise what you've done to that puppy? She's scared, she's suffered all because of you."

He left Dire alone. It's what he deserved. There was nothing to be done. If he further pummeled the crow man, he might just kill him right then and there. Divus, for now, had to be by your side as your father figure and welcome you back safely to NRC as you were meant to be. Before leaving, he picked up his sullied glove from the floor, saying his last to Dire.

"You don't deserve to be her father."

Dire Crowley

He was ashamed to use his magic on you, but he had to prevent you from running. It was a necessary measure, but the real thorns were your words that pierced through his heart. You yelled insults, curses and cusses at him as if you were held at gunpoint, your lungs exhausted from the constant shrieking.

"No no! Let me go," You begged. "I hate you, I hate you I hate you!" You chanted it as if it were a spell. "I wish you never took me in. Don't touch me!"

The words were enough for the magic to weaken, granting you your escape. Dire was not swift enough, but the Dorm Leaders were. They heard everything, every complaint you threw at Dire and every insult you had for him. Malleus caught you, but as soon you knew it was him, you pushed him away.

"No… NO! I am NOT GOING BACK!" You cried, holding your head in your hands, crouching into a ball. Leona quickly knocked you out. If you went on, you would've hurt yourself and the injuries you sustained from running away was concerning enough.

Against all odds, those seven turned to the principal, with faces of betrayal. All you had been through… They did not realise what burden Dire, and subsequently, they placed on you.

"Crowley… you were never gracious."

Dire was hopeless. He couldn't comfort you, he knew he couldn't be forgiven. He stood in his place, accepting his fate at the moment. He couldn't ask for your mercy nor forgiveness, and perhaps that was his fate. To be cursed by whoever he neglected.

"Please, take care of her for now."

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