#The way she treats you now is making me nauseous I hate this

[badingsm]

https://www.tumblr.com/badingsm/726265525289861121/yn-enters-the-living-room-with-pickles-and-ice?source=share

As a FRIENDS lover, I beg you to make a one shot about this pleaseeee😭😭

Hi! I hope you like this, Anon. I'm sorry, it's like my first time doing this so, I hope I don't disappoint :)

Warnings: Light smut that's cringey, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy, cursing.

"Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I'm going to-" Natasha grunted lowly as she thrust into a different angle to hit your sensitive spot, making you both feel the pleasure and chase your highs closer and closer. You were bent on her bed, all at her mercy, while she fucked you from behind, basking in the sound of your moans.

Your relationship with Natasha has always been a love-hate dynamic one. You two just couldn't get along without the other one teasing or mocking the other. As a person filled with pride, you hated that. So you defend yourself by treating her the same way she does.

So, being here and being intimate with her was a huge surprise on both of your parts. One minute you guys were in one of Tony's famous post-mission parties, then the next, fighting over the game that you don't even remember, and now, you're here.

You both are here.

Doing some miracles.

"Oh—feels so good, I-" You gasped when her thrusts became harder and faster. Your knuckles had long turned white with how hard you'd balled your fist in her mattress. "Nat, I'm gonna—fuck."

"Shit, shit—hold it," Natasha groaned, her palm finding its way into your hair, fisting it into a ponytail before tugging it in a pleasurable way, making your back press against her built and sweaty front. She thrust a few more times while you whined, feeling the pain of holding on too long, being completely dumb for anything else but getting your own relief, until you heard her whisper hotly in your ear as she felt herself about to release too, "Cum for me, baby."

And that's it.

You both let go.

Your thighs shook wildly around hers while you continued to release all your juices. At the same time, her cum shot out of her, painting your walls white and planting her seeds in you.

And at that moment, when you realized exactly that, you pushed Natasha—who fell into your chest with a heavy breath—off of you.

"Fuck, Romanoff!" You bit your lip harshly while she looked at you with hooded eyes.

She smirked, "I just did. Ready for round-" 

"You.." You clenched your jaw. "You didn't pull out, damn it! You're not even wearing a condom!"

Her eyes widened at that.

Natasha's lips fell into a circular shape as she blinked slowly at you. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Are you on birth control?"

"I'm not!" You said through gritted teeth, getting up to clean yourself in her bathroom and then gathering your clothes. "But.."

"Yes?"

"But there's also a possibility that it will not happen." You tried to assure yourself more than her when you let that out, "Just because we had sex once, I'll be—yeah, I won't be. It's fine. Besides, this is just a one-time thing anyway."

"Mhm," Natasha nodded, "Sure. So... wanna stay?"

"No thanks. I should get back." You smiled tightly. "This was kind of nice though."

"What? You being fucked?"

"Brutal but yes," You replied unashamedly, "And the fact that we can be in the same room without biting each other's heads off."

"Really?" Natasha asked you with a small grin. She almost looks shy, but she's quick to mask it off with her coy self.

"You're still my enemy, though."

"And you are mine." She winks.

With that, you left quickly, wondering if whatever she said had another meaning, but you soon brushed it off your mind.

It's impossible.

-

A month had passed since that night.

You were currently in the kitchen with Wanda and Yelena.

Wanda was making her famous chicken paprikash while you nursed yourself with ice cream. It's your little reward after the stressful debriefing you had with Fury.

You were in the middle of biting a spoon when suddenly, the aroma of Wanda's freshly cooked paprikash made you nauseous. You tried to stop yourself from gagging with the use of your palm because you didn't want to be rude in any way, but it was unstoppable this time. So, you rushed to the nearest sink and dumped all the contents of your stomach in there.

Yelena was quick enough to help you. She rubbed your back comfortingly while Wanda turned off the stove and tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Are you okay?" Wanda asked, her mother instincts kicking in.

"Fine," You mumbled after finishing. You cleaned yourself before looking up to her and asking, "What's that smell?"

"What?" Yelena questioned curiously.

"That," You pointed at the smoking pot with pursed lips, "Why does it smell like that?"

"I was cooking for the boys since they requested it." Wanda looked at you weirdly. "And I was also making some extra for you. I know it's your favorite but.."

"No, no, no." You were quick enough to dismiss her frown. "I love your paprikash, trust me. Maybe.. maybe this is just one of my bad days where I get a little weird from my normal self."

Yelena raised her brows at that, but she didn't say anything else. Instead, she went back to her seat after you assured her that you were good already.

"Sure." Wanda eyed you suspiciously. "Just drink more water, yeah? Maybe you're just dehydrated."

Even if that's not what she believes because her suspicions say otherwise, she gave you a glass of water before leaving with two bowls on a tray for Tommy and Billy.

-

A few weeks later.

You grabbed an apple that you saw above the counter before going through the cupboard to find the ketchup to pair it with. You had just finished your training for the day, and you had been craving this the whole time. Now, you wouldn't waste another second without satisfying your needs.

Natasha entered the kitchen then. She had a walk with Fanny since Yelena was on a mission with Barton until the next day. She was dressed in her usual style: a black shirt, a leather jacket, jeans, and combat boots, along with her famous braids.

The moment you saw her face, you felt annoyed.

And that's normal.

So, with a huff, you left her alone and trudged your way through the living room, where you could watch your comfort show.

Things with Natasha were still the same, except for the fact that she became more flirty this time, but all in all, you still find her sarcastic self annoying.

Meanwhile, the said redhead watched you from the kitchen, eyeing your choice of food. She found it... weird to think about your choice of food but didn't comment on it.

No one dared to say anything about it anyway because they were afraid to get snapped by you, especially with how much your patience and temper had gone shorter and shorter as time went by.

-

The next day.

You woke up lightheaded until you felt something in your stomach, and before you even come into full consciousness, you're bent into your toilet bowl, dumping everything that you've got in your stomach even though you haven't eaten anything yet. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes as you prayed that your liver wouldn't be puked out too.

This keeps happening every single morning, and now it bothers you already, so with a thought, you cleaned yourself, grabbed a glass of water, and drank it quickly before finding your way to the medical bay, where Banner was busy tingling his...sciencey stuff.

"Hey, Y/n!" He smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm dying," You concluded out loud, not missing the way his face fell into shock before shaking his head. He should be really used to your dramatic antics by now. "Brucely, I'm dying!"

"Tell me your symptoms," He asked patiently.

"Well, I've been puking—a lot. Like every morning or every time I don't like something. I'm always lightheaded. Always hungry—oh, wait, that's normal me—but, yeah, pretty much that."

"I think I know what's happening." He trailed off cautiously. "Have you considered testing yourself?"

"Oh, believe me, living is really a difficult test for me, and I'm barely passing, but-"

"No, no," He shook his head with a small chuckle, "I meant pregnancy test."

"Uh, are you a weirdo or something?" You tried to joke when you felt that this was getting serious and there was a big possibility that he might be right, but you're still scared to acknowledge that.

"How's your period?"

"I'm a month late, but I'm irregular anyway, so..."

"Can I—just to make sure, if you're up for it?" He offered gently, not wanting to force you or make you uncomfortable in any way.

You thought about it for a while before deciding that you should do it. It's for the sake of your mind and sanity anyway. Either way, you'll just end up overthinking it for God knows how many nights, and you don't want that.

So, with a deep sigh, you nodded as an answer.

-

"Results are back." Bruce came back from the lab with a folder in his hand. He was reading it with his glasses while he grabbed the seat in front of you. "You ready?"

"Mhm," You released a shaky breath, "Am I dying already?"

"No," He smiled, "You're actually pregnant."

You laughed nervously at that, looking at him with unsure eyes and saying, "That's a good one, Bruce. So, what's the result?"

"Uh, you're pregnant. Really." Bruce then placed the paper in front of you for you to read the documents yourself. "Congratulations, Y/n."

"Yeah, no, I can't—it just happened one time and-" You felt pathetic when you started to address the burn in your eyes at the same time your anxiety had settled in, "I'm not.."

"It's okay, Y/n," He comforted. Bruce has always been the father figure of the team, and you thank him for that. "It's a lot to take in, but know that we're here for you."

"Thanks, Bruce." You nodded, wiping the tears that fell into your cheeks before leaving with the papers clasped in your hands. "I should probably head back."

"If you don't mind me asking," He stopped you before you could completely leave the room, "Who's the..."

You smiled tightly and said, "I'd rather not talk about that yet. Sorry."

"It's fine. Go on." He dismissed you kindly. "Take care though. Especially now."

"Yes, thanks again!"

And with that, you disappeared.

-

Months have passed.

You began showing, and now you're already in your ninth month.

The team was curious about whose child it was, but they didn't dare to voice their questions. Instead, they supported you with everything that they had.

Meanwhile, with Natasha, she agreed to take responsibility as she muttered a series of apologies to you, but you also made her promise not to tell anyone that she's the baby mama. It's not that you were embarrassed; you're just not yet ready for it.

Being talked about as pregnant with this anonymous person is already enough to make your ears and head hurt, and if the team finds out that your enemy is the other parent of your child, you're sure they won't leave you two alone. Just by thinking that, the veins in your head are already pulsing painfully.

So, no, not yet.

Anyways.

Currently, Peter insisted on having a movie marathon with the group, which is why all of them were either sitting or lying in the living room while you grabbed your snacks in the kitchen—pickles and ice cream.

After drinking a glass of water, you walked back into where the movie was playing since you had just arrived after taking a nap and a shower for a while.

As you entered, you saw the way their eyes seemed to shift their attention to you.

So, with a roll of the eyes, you scoffed, "That's right. Still no baby!"

Natasha saw your frame and the way you struggled with how heavy your bump was; she was quick enough to leave her comfortable seat and lowly say, "Uh.. detka, maybe you'd be more comfortable here?"

With the sound of her voice, you snapped your attention to her. Your relationship was still the same, but you've noticed that she chooses to bite back her remarks instead whenever you pick on her. She was patient enough. As she should be.

"You. Like you haven't done enough." You glared at her.

Natasha sighed before looking back up to you with a nervous smile, "Look, I-I know how miserable you are; I wish there was something I could do. I mean, I wish I was the one with the vagina, so I'm the one who's knocked up-" You glared at her sharper this time, "But yeah, it'll be fine soon, love, you're near the end. Yay!"

You huffed, "If you just pulled-" You cut yourself off when you felt the harsh contractions coming your way, making you whisper with gritted teeth so as to not get the unnecessary attention of the team, "God-fucking-damn you, Romanoff!"

"Mhm, yeah, all my fault, thanks." Natasha smiled hesitantly while you groaned in pain.

Meanwhile, Wanda watched from the corner, smiling to herself while she witnessed your love-hate relationship with Natasha, knowing damn well that you'd both end up together in the end anyway.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #soft natasha romanoff #light smut #g!p natasha

[mineox]

Arranged Marriage

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১Scaramouche x M Reader !Modern au!

After the wedding night Scaramouche wanted nothing to do with you but sadly you hit your heat cycle but Scaramouche takes care of you like a good husband.

Warnings: cock-drunk reader, two faced scaramouche :c, mean scaramouche, overstimulation, dacryphilia, creampie, mention of pregnancy, reader in a dress, oral, fingering, heat cycle, degrading, tongue pierced Scara ;3

Scaramouche sat in his bedroom he looked zoned out thinking about his new life now that he was forced to marry a boy…the problem wasn’t he was married to the same gender no…the problem was that he never wanted to marry that boy who was sleeping peacefully next door was a pain in the ass. The first time they met the boy was very sweet and Scaramouche hated sweet the boy probably knew he was going to be engaged with Scaramouche soon which made Scaramouche’s blood boil he couldn’t stand him he was always doing sweet stuff for him like cook, clean, help him wash his back…already acting like his male wife, just thinking about impregnating him made him sick. The reason why Scaramouche and Y/n were forced to marry each other was because Ei the mother of Scaramouche told him she needed a nephew of niece, someone who can inherit their last name and since he was the eldest he needed to marry fast and get his mother a grandchild. Scaramouche sighed and stood up, slowly walking up to a mirror and smashing it shattering the mirror into pieces meanwhile his partner was in the other side of the room trying to cry himself to sleep. — “you don’t seem very happy…” said Kokomi a friend of Y/n’s “o-oh no…I’m very happy it’s just I-I feel nauseous and my stomach has been hurting all day…” said Y/n with a weak smile Kokomi laughed and fixed his veil “maybe you and Scaramouche are expecting a little one on the way” said Kokomi making Y/n smile but on the inside he was scared “yea maybe…”

everyone was at the wedding reception celebrating their friends wedding Scaramouche had a smile on his face acting as if he was happy and wanted this wedding to happen meanwhile Y/n had a small frown he was scared and not happy at all he knew Scaramouche didn’t like him at all but the sad truth is Y/n loved him the first time he saw him, his beautiful smile even if he knew it was fake Y/n yelped quietly feeling a small pinch in his thigh he looked at his husband who was looking at him with a hateful look “smile.” was all he said and Y/n obeyed like always. — Y/n was in his room sobbing into his pillow hoping the banging would stop Scaramouche was hurting himself Y/n wanted to patch him up but he knew not to mess with him or interrupt him whenever he’s mad, Y/n just wanted to marry someone and live happily but that wasn’t going to happen not when his husband hates him. Y/n coughed feeling nauseous again ‘must’ve been something bad I ate…’ thought Y/n he looked at him white gown and frowned ‘Ei is treating me with all these dresses I’m not even a girl…’ thought Y/n he paused and grabbed onto the bed feeling drowsy he did his best walking up to the door, his vision blurry “n-need water…” mumbled Y/n feeling more drowsy his stomach felt very hot and his face red

Scaramouche left his room and walked into the large kitchen the atmosphere felt weird…Scaramouche sniffed the air to smell pheromones he looked around before seeing a familiar (h/c) head “Y/n?” Scaramouche walked up to the large sofa to see Y/n who was barely conscious “what the…” Scaramouche touched Y/n’s forehead which was very warm and the pheromones he was letting out “are you doing this on purpose?…” asked Scaramouche standing up there was no response and he sighed and picked up the boy “Scara?…” mumbled Y/n opening his eyes “what.” answered Scaramouche he looked at Y/n who was tearing up “wha— stop crying—“ “I-I’m sorry I’m not a good wife!” cried Y/n “what?—“ “you hate me and I-I’m trying so hard to be p-perfect b-but m-maybe we should divorce!!” cried Y/n ‘it hasn’t even been a day.’ thought Scaramouche now that he thought of it he felt kinda bad how he was treating his wife “I-I…” Scaramouche quickly sat down on the sofa it was hard for him to speak when the strong pheromones were still around the air “I…” Scaramouche looked at Y/n his mind clouded with lust he tried to get a grip but seeing his wife all weak and teary got him turned on, Y/n yelped feeling Scaramouche throw him onto the sofa “S-Scara—“ Y/n was cut off by a kiss “mphm!!” Y/n tried to separate the kiss but eventually gave up due to Scaramouche being much stronger then him “Y/n you’re so pretty…can’t wait to make you cry louder.” mumbled Scaramouche his lips touching Y/n’s neck “Scara!” whimpered Y/n he felt Scara bite him, suck his neck until a dark purple mark was made soon after Y/n felt Scara stand up and Y/n looked at him “get on your knees.”

Muffles and groans can be heard Scaramouche was thrusting into Y/n’s warm mouth and grabbing his hair “good boy…sucking me like a good slut…” groaned Scaramouche feeling good, Y/n who was below him was teary his cheeks were very red and his mind was foggy and filled with lust, all he wanted to do was to please his husband like a good wife soon Y/n felt Scaramouche pull his head closer and the salty taste filled Y/n’s mouth “good slut…get on the bed.” ordered Scaramouche and like always Y/n obeyed.

Y/n whimpered feeling Scaramouches long fingers thrust inside his hole that was aching for something bigger “look at you all wet…you want my dick so bad don’t you?” smirked Scaramouche “y-yes!” moaned Y/n he moaned feeling like he’s about to burst but suddenly Scaramouche stopped “w-why!” whined Y/n he tried moving himself on Scaramouches fingers but his waist was being held “not yet I want you to ride me.” said Scaramouche grabbing Y/n’s waist and putting him up Y/n grabbed onto Scaramouches shoulders and slowly took him in “ugh your pathetic.” Y/n threw his head back feeling the huge cock enter him “h-hurts!…” whimpered Y/n tearing up again “just take it in like a good little slut you are.” smiled Scaramouche kissing Y/n “s-sorry…” moaned Y/n “for what.” said Scaramouche stopping “I-Im not a good wife…” mumbled Y/n “Y/n you are so cute…I can’t wait to see you all plump up…carrying our baby.” smirked Scaramouche seeing Y/n’s surprised face Scaramouche groaned moving inside his wife’s tight hole and Y/n threw his head back again feeling the hard cock hit his sensitive spot

“mmm…s-slow down!” begged Y/n Scaramouche fucked him doggy style to get a good angle at hitting his sensitive spots again and again “not until that heat of yours…is gone…” said Scaramouche out of breath but still thrusting as if there is no tomorrow Y/n’s hole was full of cum “you look so pretty in that night gown…” said Scaramouche pulling his wifes hair making Y/n whimper in pain and pleasure “mmm!” whimpered Y/n feeling himself getting close “you are so tight…how many times have you cum you slut?” teased Scaramouche he smirked seeing his wifes cock drunken face “mmm…n-no more!” begged Y/n “begging me to stop yet you still release these stupid pheromones…do you want some other guy to fuck you?” asked Scaramouche pulling on Y/n’s hair and when there was no response he stopped thrusting and Y/n whined “answer my question.” said Scaramouche “n-no only you!” cried Y/n he moaned feeling Scaramouche slowly thrusting again “good.” said Scaramouche.

Scaramouche and Y/n were in a much larger room Y/n was faced the other way avoiding eye contact with his husband and Scaramouche was starting to regret treating Y/n awful “so that priest told me about you feeling sick and relating to—“ “pregnancy symptoms…” mumbled Y/n Scaramouche looked at him puzzled “are you?…” questioned Scaramouche “y-yes” mumbled Y/n “h-how…?” asked Scaramouche scared to hear the respond what if Y/n was tired of his bullshit and decided to secretly sleep with someone else “l-last time you got drunk and you were releasing a lot of pheromones…” explained Y/n “w-was it non consensual?!” panicked Scaramouche “n-no I did what a good wife would do…” said Y/n a bit red “oh sorry…” apologized Scaramouche he then grabbed Y/n’s hand and kisses it “I-Im so sorry for all the shit I’ve done—“ “I-It’s fine don’t worry about it…” mumbled Y/n “I-I’ll buy you anything I-I will take care of you and our kid p-please just don’t leave me…” said Scaramouche mumbling the last part “Scara I knew what I was signing myself for your mom warned me…” said Y/n with a smile and Scaramouche kissed Y/n and grabbed his thigh “p-please I wanna go again…” begged Scaramouche and Y/n blushed.

Scaras gonna have tons of kids if he keeps this up :3

#scara x reader #scara smut #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x male reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #sub male reader #scaramouche

[thestartax]

Armin Arlert x Reader

Synopsis: you’ve been in Marley for a couple months now , you’re finally seeing Armin again

Tropes: long hug, eye contact, pre-existing relationships, yes the lowercase is intentional, first person pronouns because it’s you

i’ve been in marley for a couple of months now. i’ve only risked contact with eren once. he made me promise to not ruin this mission, he said he had everything in place to make it work. still, i didn’t love the idea that he was bringing everyone here to, very suddenly, bring ruination upon this town.

i’ve seen children running around. families, friends, relationships. the eldians have formed a community, everyone on the eldian side of the gate knows one another. they’re a family. to think that eren intends to destroy this town of eldians—not even the marleyans—even if they will be there these are still eldian homes he will destroy. it makes me nauseous to think about it.

reiner is here. he has a cousin who he treats more like a sister. she has a band of friends. they all want nothing more than to prove they’re good eldians and kill everyone back on paradis which, i’ll admit, makes me more than a little violent when i think about it for too long. but i always remind myself that this is all they’ve been taught, it’s all they know. i remember my boyfriend is back on paradis and the feelings of violence come back but then i see this girl and her own personal blonde and i have to remind myself once again. it’s an endless cycle.

i haven’t been able to come into contact with eren again—it’s too much of a risk, as he continuously reminds me. but i’ve been watching, very closely, from the sides. he’s been talking to that little blonde reiner’s cousin/sister is going to be stuck to for the rest of her life—assuming they both survive this. it makes me nervous seeing eren with him but i don’t think he’d go out of his way to hurt the boy so i’ve yet to intervene.

on the day i know eren intends to ruin these people’s lives—worse than they have already been ruined—i’m anxious beyond repair, i’ll just have to sit with it. even if this goes perfectly we’re still sure to lose some of our own and kill entire families on this mission. i’m nauseous again.

eren convinces the boy—falco to bring reiner to him. i sit just out of range of the explosion eren will surely set off when he transforms. i can’t hear them but i know what’s being said. eren’s revealing himself, reiner is scared out of his mind, and falco is shocked. i just hope that when he does transform that falco will be okay. he’s a good kid.

some long haired blonde man who’s very clearly important to all of these people is giving some speech about killing the island devils on paradis when eren finally transforms, decimates half of the people gathered together, and then eats said man. this, of course, causes the actual war hammer titan to make herself known. there is something of a fight between them but really eren just gets his ass handed to him by being skewered a few times. but that doesn’t stop reinforcements from coming.

i can hear the odm gear zipping by. i know my friends are here. it makes me smile but then it makes me nervous. i would prefer they all be out of harm's way—eren hasn’t allowed that. so we’re all fighting for our lives in unknown territory. the goal is to spare as many of our own lives as possible, capture zeke, and get eren out of here alive.

honestly, we look like we’re going to lose. they have the war hammer titan, the jaw titan, the beast titan, and the cart titan. if zeke were actually against us we’d surely be dead. but still, it looks mildly bleak. but i know what our power play is. i know what eren will have forced them to do. forced him to do. even though knows he hates it. even though he knows it goes against everything he believes in.

i see it in the distance. i hear it everywhere. i can almost feel it in the air. the explosion. i know what it is. i know who it is.

without thinking, i take off running towards the blast. i’m zipping around on my odm gear, reaching maximum speeds. i’m weaving through and around all the buildings and straight to the port.

by the time i get there, everything is decimated. things still shine with the light of a burned-out fire. these people were scorched and all of the land in a five-mile radius is crushed. there will be no survivors. no one will live through this if they’re not dead already. no one but the boy who caused it.

he’s just ripped himself from the nape of his titan's neck when my feet hit the ground. i stand before his titan, the size of a small bug from where he sits atop it. i look up at him, overcome with emotion and frozen in place.

when he looks down and spots me i can feel his eyes. i can feel his gaze upon me. it warms me everywhere his eyes travel. he’s slowly registering it’s me, he doesn’t believe it yet. he doesn’t want to get his hopes up if it’s not me and instead someone who’s about to shoot at him.

i smile despite myself, feeling my eyes pool with tears. i don’t try to blink them back like i usually would. he knows me then.

he inhales sharply and in the next moment he’s zipping down from his titans body and towards me. “y/n!”

i laugh helplessly and dart towards him. we’re running at each other with all we have, really. i’ve never run faster. this is the new record. i thought i was fast getting here. this beats that by a long shot. i can see him. he’s 100 feet away from me. 80 feet. 50. he’s so close, how could i not run as fast as i possibly can? 20 feet. then 10.

as soon as i can see every cut and bruise on his face, his titan marks, the blue of his eyes—it’s like as soon as i see him it’s like i leave battle mode. it doesn’t matter that we’ve both been fighting for our lives out here. we’ve nearly won now. we’re going to leave with only a few casualties of our own, eren, & the war hammer titan. it will be successful as long as we continue as we have been. my resolve dies and we’re just so close now. i’m jumping over charred corpses & rubble from the destroyed town. i’m running as fast i can to my favorite blonde. “armin!” i choke out, suddenly so close to sobbing i can feel the tears falling.

i’m sure it’s jarring to see me like this. usually so stoic and unmoved in the fast of terror or tragedy, reduced to a puddle of tears at the sight of a boy i’ve loved all my life.

his breath hitches again and when we embrace it’s with such equal force we stand completely still, absorbing each other's energy. we’re panting and holding each other like the contact is the only thing that allows us to breathe. one of my arms is wrapped around his neck, hooking it in the bend of my elbow while my other hand is pushed into the hair at the back of his head. he’s holding me so tightly around the waist that he’s nearly lifting me off the ground—i’m on my tiptoes.

i squeeze my eyes shut and take shaky breaths to stop myself from crying. i’m surely shaking in his arms, not to say that he’s not shaking too—because he is. i just can’t stop.

“armin, armin, armin,” i whisper it again and again like a chant and a promise.

i can feel his heart beat against my own chest. our hearts are working to match the other's pace. our breathing synchronizes, our hearts beat as one, it’s like we’re one being.

he pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes before wiping away my tears. his own eyes are filled with so much emotion it almost brings my tears back. he closes his eyes and leans our foreheads together.

i reach up and cup his face in my hands. he opens his eyes and does the same to me. when our eyes meet and hold contact i can’t help but let out a weak, wet laugh. my thumbs gently trace over his titan marks with a feather-like touch. the only sound is of our breath & the ocean behind us at the port. “hi,” i say without thinking.

he laughs quietly, “hi.”

for a long moment, we stay like that. wrapped up in each other and the moment. i’ve gone soft around the edges, i’m no longer alert and sharp. i don’t know exactly where the sound comes from when i hear it—and that makes me nervous.

it’s a voice that calls for us. it makes me pull armin to me, holding him tightly, shielding him. i look around to pinpoint where this voice is coming from. it makes me uneasy to be on a battlefield but feel so at home just because i’m in his presence. it makes me nervous to not be so sharp, so prepared, so ready.

finally, i spot jean. he’s off in the distance. we can’t quite hear him but it’s easy to make out the waving arm that tells us to get to him quickly. he’s not very calm about it.

i relax a little, happy it’s a friend who requires an answer to their call versus someone with a gun. my hold on armin doesn’t loosen much. he sighs against my neck, he’s relieved too.

“i think it’s about time to catch our ride home,” armin says softly.

i nod against his shoulder where i rest my forehead. i smile a little. “i’ve been missing home… missing you.”

he slides his hand up from its place on my back to the back of my neck. “you won’t have to miss me again. we won’t be apart again.”

“that’s wishful thinking,” i joke sadly.

he doesn’t say anything because he knows i’m right. he just pulls away and takes my hand. when he starts to lead us over to jean i quickly use our joined hands to pull him back to me. i put my hand on the back of his neck—mostly to steady myself and then lean on my tiptoes to kiss him. it’s long and emotional but really that’s all it is—emotional. there’s no deeper meaning behind it, no lust. it’s just something that says, “i’m so happy to have you back. never leave me again. i love you more than anything. let me keep loving you.”

when i pull away i simply take the lead in walking and pull him along behind me—he’s still a little dazed for the time being but he snaps out of it quickly enough. we walk together to jean. i’m sure we’re supposed to be in a hurry, i know this airship will leave without us, but we can’t seem to make ourselves run.

when we get to our friend he shoots armin a look i don’t quite understand but he says nothing of our joined hands, which i appreciate. he doesn’t hesitate to remind us that if we don’t make it to the rooftop rendezvous spot we will not be going home. on that very blunt note, the three of us book it to the roof.

armin’s hand is soft and warm in mine. he’s like home for me. he’s safety and happiness personified. he’s always been there. he’s been the love of my life since the moment i laid eyes on him and i don’t ever intend to take my eyes off of him now. not again. he and i are in it for the long haul… assuming we all survive this.

#armin arlert #armin x reader #armin aot #armin arlet x reader #attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #yn #x yn #armin x y/n

[honeybeefae]

A Court of Wings & Fire: Chapter Two

Summary// Eris had control of everything in his life. The war was over, he was planning to take the Autumn throne, and nothing was left to surprise him…until he met you. A mating bond with an Illyrian was like a spit in his face and neither of you could understand why fate had put you together. You both swore off relations to each other, refusing to even be in the same court, but you should have known that fate is not to be tested.

(Chapter two is here! It's shorter than other chapters will be but still good! I hope you guys enjoy it :))

/ Chapter One / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five

Chapter Two

The skies above Velaris were clear, millions of stars twinkling as you flew as high as you could. It was cold but you could care less, enjoying the way the night air bit into your skin as you processed what had just happened. 

You had a mate. A mate who not only hated you, but also had caused great harm to your friends. 

Were the gods this cruel as to give you such a person? To destin you to a life with someone who would spit in your face without any remorse?

Anger and denial were pumping through your blood as you dove down to the shoreline, the loud crashing of waves mimicking the rage in your head. You hadn’t felt this much hatred before in a long, long time. It was already threatening to consume you.

Your wings flapped slowly so you could land on the soft grass of the coast. As soon as you got your footing you took off your heels, tossing them over the shore in a tantrum. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Mates were almost considered a myth where you came from. Feyre and Rhysand were the first mated pair you had seen in your entire life. When they had told you that, you had thought they were joking. It was a fairytale to tell to young children, not something that could actually happen. 

And yet here you stand, an unmistakable thread tying you to a monster. 

It felt like your world was crashing down. You sat down, pulling your knees to your chest while your wings cocooned you to block the ocean winds. Thousands of thoughts were running through your mind but the one that kept repeating was ‘Why you?’

Did the Cauldron also think you were a terrible person? Was your path in life destined to be like his, is that why you were cursed with this? Even now, as you sat as far away as you could get from wherever he went, you could feel the bond and it made you nauseous. 

There was a sound behind you of flapping wings but you refused to look, already knowing it was Rhys. You heard him approach you, felt his eyes on your sulking form, before he sat down beside you and sighed.

“Mating bonds aren’t always right.” He began softly, stretching out his legs while staring up into the sky. “Sometimes it’s as simple as who would make strong offspring, nothing more to it.”

You slightly lowered your left wing, peeking over the top of it as he continued on.

“My mother was an Illyrian while my father was a High Lord. He saw her at camp when they were trying to clip her wings, fighting for her life with everything she had, and that’s when the bond snapped into place for him.”

His voice was quiet as he recalled the story, your wings now completely lowered so you could listen.

“She saw him watching her and it clicked for her as well, but they were wrong for each other.” Rhys frowned, picking an invisible piece of lint off his jacket. “I remember how much she disliked him, how he treated her. However he did give her one thing. He never clipped her wings. It was the one redeeming thing about their relationship, the freedom he gave her by letting her keep them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You whispered, watching him while your head still rested on your knees. 

“Because I want you to know that just because the Cauldron says your mates, it doesn’t mean you have to accept it. Fate can be wrong sometimes. I don’t want you fading away because you think there isn’t a way out.”

“But-”

“Bonds can be broken, I’ve seen it before.” Rhys interrupted. “Some people just aren’t compatible, no matter what the Cauldron or Mother thinks. And I’m sure Eris is going to sever the bond soon, if not by the time we go home.”

He stands up and holds out his hand, giving you a brotherly smile as you take it reluctantly. “I know it may feel like it, and I know how hard this must be for you, but this isn’t the end of the world. At least not yet.”

You roll your eyes as he winks at you, shaking your head. “Do you really think he will end it? What if he doesn’t sever the bond?”

“Trust me, he will.” He replied with a chuckle. “His unfounded hatred for Illyrians and my court in general outweighs whatever want he might have for a mate.”

With one last look over the ocean and at the moon you nod, feeling a tiny bit better as you turn back to Rhys and give him a small smile. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

—------------------

Eris

He winnowed out of the room the second your eyes reconnected, his mind spiraling with what had just transpired. Going into this meeting he was prepared for anything, anything but a mating bond with a bloody Illyrian.

Eris appeared in his appointed room in Hewn City, immediately pacing the floor as he ran a hand through his hair frustratingly. The tips of his fingers were itching with the urge to burn the entire city to the ground in fury, enjoying the feeling of hot fury flooding his veins. 

Unfortunately for him, he could not burn down this godsforsaken city nor even leave it. He still had a few loose ends to tie up with Keir and his peers, gathering information to see just how much of a threat Briallyn was to Prythian. He didn't want to see it torn apart despite his disdain for most people living on the continent. 

War was deadly and unneeded, the land and its people needed to heal. Of course, Beron didn’t see it the same, the old bastard. He was only concerned about keeping the Autumn Court pure and strong, by whatever means necessary.

His mind immediately started to drift back to you after the idea of a “pure” court, recalling the hatred in your eyes and the way your wings shadowed against the far wall. Eris had no idea how he hadn’t noticed you before, how he dismissed you so easily with the rest of them. 

The moment you had threatened him was when he felt that shift inside him, something deep within him that he once thought dead springing back to life. He had hardly even heard your words to him as his heart pounded in his ears. There was a brief moment of pure happiness, a feeling he had only felt once before, until his gaze connected to the wings on your back.

Mating bonds were more familiar to him, he knew mated pairs and knew that being a High Lord’s son he had a greater chance of meeting his mate, but he would never have bet on it being an Illyrian. 

If he had known that would be the case, Eris would’ve steered clear of them more than he already had. In what world, in what life, would the Mother even consider the two of you to be good mates? You were lower class, an Illyrian lesser fae who, as far as he was concerned, could never compare to the beauty and elegance of his people.

All Illyrians were good for were war, fighting, and breeding warriors. It was what they were known for, why they were exiled to that mountain, and it should stay that way. What would Eris do with such a barbaric, winged woman? Did she even know how to read or write? Basic manners? He doubted it.

And while he was thinking about it, didn’t most Illyrian women get their wings clipped when they first bled? He vaguely recalls hearing stories of it, how it was done to keep the women under men's control. Why did you have yours?

He paused in his pacing, staring off at the door as he thought about your wings. They were like the rest of your kind, albeit a bit smaller to fit your frame which filled out the dress you were wearing quite nicely. It hugged your curves, accentuating your figure while also not limiting you if you would have to fight. 

Your lips, painted a bright red that was drawn up in a scowl as he insulted you and your friends. Eris glowered at the rush of desire that raced to his cock, turning around to his desk and throwing it haphazardly against the wall in rage. 

He would not be lusting after someone like you, a bastard Illyrian. He was above that. He controlled his own fate and he would rather be struck dead than let some bond make his choices for him.

But, Eris knew he could not sever the bond yet. Not only did he not know what repercussions would come from Rhysand and his tribe of misfits in doing so, he also knew severing a bond causes a great deal of pain for both parties for several days, if not weeks. Even if the bond is not wanted by either person.

If he came home in such a state his father would immediately be suspicious, as his conniving brothers. They would waste no time in getting to the bottom of it and if they were to find out, his father's wrath would be felt across the world. His entire lineage would be questioned if anyone knew he was fated to be with an Illyrian.

It would ruin his plans for his bid for the throne. Ruin his life more than it already has. 

No, he needed to be very careful with this. Eris sat down and began to form his plan, knowing he needed to get his information and make this as quiet as possible. 

A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts. It was Keir on the other side, calling his name. He immediately stood and straightened out his outfit and hair, taking a deep breath before opening it and stepping out into one of the many grand hallways.

“Shall we?” Keir asked, not bothering to wait for a response as he started down the hall.

“We shall.” Eris said, his mouth drawn tight as he mulled over what to do about you.

Taglist: @elizarikaallen @kristeristerin @a-frog-with-a-laptop @littlebbb @introvertsuntes68-blog @clairebear08

#acotar fic #eris x reader fic #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris fic #eris acotar smut #eris x reader acotar #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader smut #eris vanserra fic #eris x reader smut #eris x you #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acowaf #acotar reader #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine

[j0kers-light]

How do you think Joker would deal with menstruation? Or if reader had a long delay and they both thought she was pregnant 😂 (but then it turned out to be a false alarm)

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

I couldn't help myself and jumped out of line of ask requests! I woke up from a nap with the perfect idea for this so here we go!

It is common knowledge that Joker does not use condoms. The tried and true saying, 'wrap it before you tap is' does not apply to him, mkay?

This man does not care. Its risky, its dangerous, and its incredibly hot to slide into you with nothing in the way. That friction of skin between skin just scratches an itch of intimacy that Joker never knew he needed. Now he knows why condoms are so expensive. Its a clear indicator not to use them!

He knows you secretly enjoy it too or you would have put an end to raw sex from the beginning. Joker does not take into consideration if you're taking any birth contraceptive measures [thats your choice as the reader] he's got bigger things to worry about, but there was always a twinge of hesitation in his mind.

What if you get pregnant?

Joker is NOT father material despite the countless nannies and other random people from your apartment building that compliment his DILF status and skills every time you babysit your neighbor's kid. Joker is not one for children, but he sorta kinda likes Gio. The little tyke's got spunk and he's so well mannered and you look ethereal whenever you hold Gio and the sunlight hits you a certain—

Okay. Fine! So Joker has toyed with the idea! He let his mind wander once or twice but it doesn't mean he's actively tryna knock you up! He is not about that life. Gotham City has to burn first and there's too much fun to cause to be weighted down with a child.

Nothing is for certain but Joker knows. He knows you can and will be a great mother just... not with his kid.

Joker is fully aware of your 'time of the month.' You're more moodier than usual and you always desert him in the guest bedroom for the comfort of your private room. You don't come out except to eat and you take said meals in your sanctuary. He hates the one week of the month where his Light is not around.

He does not like when you shut him out and hide in your shell but you grumble 'hormones' or 'leave me lone, J' and waddle back to safety.

Joker wants nothing more to cuddle up with you and rub your cramps away or hand feed you all the weird snacks you crave while your buried under the blankets, but you won't let him near you! Why won't you let him spoil you?

Contrary to popular belief, Joker is smart and very detail driven. He keeps up with your mensural cycle because he needs to know when his Light will be out of commission. He needs to know when to stay out of your way and when to keep your favorite snacks stocked in the penthouse. Since you won't let him near you, he'll keep you satisfied with acts of service. A happy Bunny, is a happy Joker.

So..... he's a lit-tle confused when your expected start date rolls around and you're still well, normal. You haven't snapped at him once or asked for some ridiculous food pairing that should not go together. You're still the bunny that he fell ten times over for. And when nothing happens for three days in a row.. Joker silently panics.

Its day five without any bleeding and Joker is a nervous wreck. You noticed a slight change in his behavior recently but with your upset stomach, you haven't given him any more attention.

You've been nauseous since the beginning of the week and no ginger ale, saltine crackers, or other home remedies that Sarai texted you to try have worked. If you don't feel any better in the morning, you're going to the ER and she better be on-call.

You were at your wits end trying to treat this weird stomach bug when she sends another message that makes your heart drop to the floor.

When's ur last period ever think bout that?

You drop your phone and spiral down a rabbit hole.

When was your last period? Shouldn’t you be due for one soon?

You snap out of your thoughts and open your period tracker and groan aloud when you notice you're five days late.

"Oh no. Oh nope nope nopeity nope." You look around the room like it miraculously held the answers to your dilemna. You've never been late a day in your life and right on time, your imaginary angel appeared on your shoulder.

"You and J do go at like rabbits..." She grimaced.

On your other shoulder your brash devil appeared. She was in rare form with a wide grin, stretching from ear to ear.

"And we be taking them loads straight to the womb! I bet you’re regretting not wrapping that sausage every time huh you cum whore? Haha! Pregnant with a psychopath's baby! That's wild! Couldn’t be me tho!”

She doubled over laughing and your angel shot her a glare. "It isn’t funny. This affects you too! Y/n, ignore her. CVS is on the corner babe. Aisle nine, lets go."

You nodded to yourself and grabbed your phone and keys, headed to the door but Joker came out of nowhere and blocked your way.

He took in your frazzled appearance. Your hands were shaking and you failed to care that you were only wearing yoga pants and one of his hoodies.

"Where ya going, pretty girl?"

His hands touched yours and discreetly took your keys from you. And you're so out of it, you hardly noticed.

"I uh, there's um.."

"Use your words, Y/n." Joker urged you.

You breathed in and out before meeting his curious eyes.

He's ever your rock; calm and ready to tackle any situation you throw at him. Would he handle this one if you told him the truth?

This would ruin all of his plans. You were supposed to be a temporary stop in his jorney called life. You would be a liability if you came out and said, 'oh hey Joker! I'm late!'

"LaTe for what?"

You blinked rapidly. Did you say that aloud?!! Joker arched an eyebrow and waited for you to answer him. Your mouth flopped like a fish.

Thank the heavens that Joker is so patient with you. He rolled his eyes and guided you into the powder room off of the foyer.

From there, he picked you up and sat you down on the counter. He stood between your legs, gently rubbing your legs.

"Talk to me, bunny. What's stuck in that uhh.. pretty lit-tle head of yours, hmm? You can tell meeeeeee."

You burst into tears and Joker froze like a statue. Those tears of yours were his kryptonite.

"I'm late! I haven't had my period yet!"

Joker clicked his tongue and set to work wiping your tears away. He was a little rough while doing it but the motion helped calm you down. Joker was still rusty with being affectionate and you smiled at his sweet gesture.

"I know."

You glanced up at him, "Whah?"

Joker repeated himself and leaned forward on his palms near your hips. "You're uhh, five, days late, doll. I need ya to do me a favor. Can ya do that?" He waited until you stopped sniffing.

Your nod was his clue to continue.

He pushed three bottles of water next to you. You stared down at them and the ominous brown paper bag on the counter. You just now noticed it.

"I need you to drink these and then... take these."

Joker knew you would freak out when he dumped the bag over to reveal the pregnancy tests he made Mac buy this morning. Joker was tired of waiting. If this was happening, he'd be the first to know before getting Sarai involved with a final medical confirmation.

You started hyperventailing until Joker grabbed your face with his hands. "Bunny... bunny... hey. Look at me. There she is. Breathe. Drink n' we'll take them to-get-ther."

"Y-You promise?" You hiccuped.

He hated seeing the fear clouding your coloured eyes. You clung to his wrist, looking up at him as if he had all the answers.

It was obvious that your were overwhelmed and scared. Joker would have to push aside his own jitters and be the stronger person here. He exhaled with a marred smile.

"I prooomise Sweetheart. Now! Drink up for me."

Joker offered you the first water bottle and you took it with the hopes this would all be false alarm.

You were pacing in the foyer with Joker seated nearby. Even with every sharp turn you made, his eyes never strayed from you.

You were a ball of nerves and he hated that you were biting your poor nails to the quick.

He was about to tell you to stop when the timer in the bathroom went off. You stared at the doorway as if it were radioactive. One of your favorite songs continued to play as the timer yet you resumed your pacing.

Joker called out your name to no reply. You were looping back around to past by him and he grabbed your arm. "Light, its time to check."

You shook your head. "I-I-I can't... you're gonna hate me and... and leave.. I just!" You yelped when Joker jerked you into his arms. He sighed into your untamed curls and squeezed you close.

He was too calm during all of this. How was he so calm?!

It was really bothering you until your head rested on his chest and you got to feel his heart beating erratically. Joker was nervous too but he didn't show it and that made you tear up even more.

He was bottling his emotions to be a shoulder for you to lean on.

It made no sense just how caring Joker was to you. He was a changed man indeed.

Joker tipped your head up with his finger. "You want me to check for ya?" He chuckled at your furious nod. Of course you did, why did he even ask? "M'aright, lemme go, doll. Them nails are killin' me."

You mumbled out an apology and let J go. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He sighed and glanced at the four pregnancy test lined up on the counter. Leave it to his doll to be neat even while under duress.

He didn't want to do this but you didn't have the courage to. So Joker was left to face one of his worst fears all alone.

There wasn't a proper procedure to these things so he just snagged the first one he could get ahold of and eyed the screen.

A bucket of ice was dumped over his head.

Positive.

Two blue lines held so much power. His ears were ringing and he barely heard your frantic knocking on the door.

"Um Joker? Y-You're too quiet. I-I’m coming in." You opened the door and took one look at a frozen Joker holding a pregnancy test and feared the worst.

Judging by his schooled features, you already knew the results but you had to see for yourself. You picked up the other three tests on the counter but did a double take.

"What? They’re negative. Oh my God. They’re negative! J, I'm not--" You turned to show Joker but he had already shook himself out of his daze and snatched the tests from your hands.

Joker's warped mind was playing tricks on him. It had to be. Because these tests were negative. He conferred with the one in his hand but it remained that life altering, positive.

Joker was conflicted and his green eyes darted up at you. Your smile faded seeing his intense emeralds, "J, what's wrong?"

"Thisssss one is positive. I'm calling the doc." He threw them all into the wastebin and was about to leave when you stepped in his path.

"Joker, wait! Three out of four, I think its safe to agree with the majority here." You were feeling back to normal now your pregnacy scare was past you but Joker was still fighting his delusions.

"I wanna be sure, Light. I'm not trusting a uhh drugstore test with somethin' like this." He rested his forehead against yours and you could feel his hands shaking as they cupped your face.

This was really getting to him. You peered through your lashes at J. He wouldn't let this go until he knew for sure from a professional. You covered his hands with your own. It was your turn to be strong and be there for Joker.

You kissed him softy and he chased after you when you broke away. "Okay, J, you can call Sarai."

He sighed and tugged you closer for the time being. You didn't know who needed this hug the most; you or Joker.

Your eyes naturally fell to the wastebin where the tests lay, mocking you and J.

There was a palpable change in the air. This interaction changed the future for you and J. In the heat of the moment neither of you considered protection. It was scary to think this could have ended very differently. You were sighing in relief but Joker was at odds with the outcome. Even with his fears put to rest, a small part of him wanted all four tests to be positive.

Simply because it would be a journey to experience with you.

#thanks anon! #thanks for the ask! #ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #ledger joker #black!fem!reader #joker #the dark knight joker #heath joker #reader insert #joker x y/n #swf headcanon #pregnancy scare #what if #chaos is stirring up chaos #his lighthouse

[wol-fica]

《𝓟𝓾𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂》 - Chapter II

summary - Wednesday can’t seem to get her mind off of the brand new fallen angel…

warnings - some blood, talk of knives

an - Ch I

——————

Lateritious - the color of brick-red, usually achieved by sunburn or becoming flustered. 

Right now, Wednesday was lateritious. Her usual tanned skin was a lovely shade of red while a small embarrassed frown graced her lips. Flirting usually does nothing to her, but after a certain girl’s annoying escapades, she has seemed to turn into a tomato. 

Wednesday found out her name, the girl from Jericho. It was pretty easy since Enid suspected that Wednesday had gained an infatuation and decided it would be a grand idea to help her out.

Her name is Jasper Edison, previously a resident of Greenfield High School before she transferred to Nevermore due to “abnormal apendigies”. She is 5’9 with a 5.2 GPA, beating Wednesday’s 5.1, and has held straight A’s since she was in preschool.  

See, she was a muse, an agitating stimulus whose soul purpose was to bother Wednesday in ways only God could foresee. Her little quips and remarks made Wednesday feel the overwhelming urge to hurl all over her typewriter and throw herself out of a ten story window. 

Jasper’s smug smile made Wednesday want to strangle the life out of her while forcing her eyes open so she would have to watch Wednesday end her. The stupid freckles that dusted across her face; she wanted to nail each with a hammer and record Jasper bleeding out while Wednesday giggled happily. 

God forbid her laugh, it was like a knife slicing through the air, an irritating whinny that pierced Wednesday’s ears so aggressively that even she cringed in discomfort. And what in the world was the deal with her eyes? They seemed to glow, a nice sunny yellow that made  Wednesday nauseous, and not in a good way. 

Jasper was just so annoying, and it pissed her off. Wednesday hated it, she hated the way Jasper’s dimples showed when she smiled, Wednesday hated how Jasoer blushed nervously when speaking to her, Wednesday hated how cute Jasper looked when she spoke about things she enjoyed, she hated the way Jasper treated everyone so kindly even if she had a bad day, Wednesday hated how the sun always illuminated Jasper’s features so well, and Wednesday especially hated how Jasper encapsulated her mind. 

Every morning Wednesday cursed the higher powers above for making her dream of her. Jasper was a blessing from heaven but deserved to be dragged into the pits of burning hell; Wednesday would personally escort her if she could. 

“Hi Wednesday!” She would say it everyday at lunch, all with a smile on her face. 

Enid, who is equally as infuriating as Jasper, has decided to speak her input on how Wednesday is feeling about her. She believed that Wednesday indeed did not hate Jasper, but actually had a crush.

“Wednesday just admit it, you like her!” Enid said as she swept their bedroom floor. 

“Liking someone is a waste of my time.” Wednesday deadpanned, aggressively typing away on her typewriter, “Besides, she irritates me.” 

“I don’t think you are aware of how much of a crush you have.” Enid chirped, now organizing her drawers full of rainbow vomit. 

Wednesday sent her a glare, a small warning that screamed ‘Keep talking about this and I'll slit your throat’. She refused to acknowledge if she had feelings or not, and even if she did, she would do everything in her power to lose them. 

“I’m aware that I have multiple knives in multiple places in this easily crossible room.” Wednesday snarled.

That made Enid shut up.

——————

“…and that is the formula for Planck’s Constant…”

Wednesday yawned as her chemistry teacher droned on about formulas and whatever else he was saying, it didn’t matter to her anyways as her attention was focused on something completely different.

Her black-souled eyes were trained in on the stunning ferrari-red locks that sat two sets to her right and one seat up. 

Jasper was slightly hunched over, which was horrible for her back, and seemed to be focused on her drawing rather than the lecture. The sun, conveniently shining through a small window, had a ray of light focused on her  face. Her two snow-white streaks of hair seemed to glow as she lazily scribbled down sketches on her notebook.

“And that concludes my lesson, have a wonderful lunch everyone!” The teacher said right as the bell rang.

Wednesday sighed, finally looking away from Jasper to pack up her things and make her way out of the room. She made her way out, pushing past a group of “popular” girls congregating at the door, and proceeded to run face first into a wall of feathers.

Instantly her head flew back and up, her eyes wide as images flashed through her head. A river, it’s water rushing and wild. Blood dripping onto hands interlocking over a rock. Crows cawing eerily as a pair of yellow eyes stared into her soul…

“Woah, you okay?” A voice snapped Wednesday out of her vision, causing her to look around in confusion.

Jasper stood in front of her with a concerned look on her face, her golden eyes searching Wednesday's black ones for any disturbance or discomfort. Suddenly, Wednesday registered the fact that Jasper’s arms were around her waist.

“I…uhm…” Wednesday was quite literally speechless, the feeling of Jasper holding her was restricting her ability to speak words. 

“Do you need to go to the nurse? Your dorm? I can take you wherever you need to go.” 

Jasper was being so kind, so considerate. Most people would laugh or take advantage of her in this situation, but not Jasper. She was gentle and helpful, keeping her wings around the two of them so Wednesday could have privacy and not be publicly embarrassed to all of her classmates. 

Wednesday stood up sharply, discarding all of her thoughts, and straightened herself out. 

“I’m fine, though I appreciate you catching me.” She stated, forcing herself to appear neutral.

“It’s no big deal.” Jasper said with a smile, though she still looked unsure, “You’re sure you don’t need the nurse? Should I call Enid?” 

Jasper was already reaching for her phone when Wednesday impulsively grabbed her wrist to stop her. She was close, really really close; noses almost brushing while her foot was between Jasper’s.

“No need, I'll be okay.” She mumbled, gazing at Jasper for a moment before hurrying off to the Quad.

‘This is stupid; I’m so stupid.’ 

——————

tag list: @king-scarlet @i984 @dreifhraniquo29 @simp4thena @alexomnice @fall-08

if anyone else would like to join the taglist, comment below 👇!!!

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#wednesday adams imagine #wednesday adams #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x reader #netflix wednesday #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday fic #wednesday fluff #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday tv show #wednesday x y/n

[f1luver-95]

Fate Charles Leclerc Story…

…Chapter 1…

                 ...January 2022...

Today was the day.... the day that I would be walking down the aisle to my future. It's scary to think that at 26 years old I will be someone's wife.

I can't help but smile as I remember the times when I was five years old dressing up in our mothers wedding dresses with my best friend Lucy. We would dream about how our lives would be as we grew up. 

We would always say that no matter what or no matter where we were in the world we would always be there for each other through the good, the bad and the ugly. Lucy has always been my person, we were inseparable growing up, and too this day we are still inseparable. She is the only person besides my family that I can count on, she loves me unconditionally. 

It's crazy how much has changed since the days when we would dress up in wedding dresses and plan our imaginary weddings. 

Looking at myself in the mirror... my blue eyes starring back at me as I took a deep breath. 

My long brown hair in a low bun with wisps of hair framing my face. My freckles hidden under the layers of makeup that I never usually wore, I looked unrecognizable. 

The nerves of the wedding making me feel nauseous. I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders and that I could throw up at any minute. 

I could feel a small tear form at the corner of my eye as it slowly rolled down my cheek. I reached up and wiped it away as I contemplated my next move. I had watched enough romantic movies to know, I wasn't supposed to be feeling this way on my wedding day.

Was it cold feet or was it my body telling me that marrying him was not the right decision? 

Before I met Jake I was a different person then the one staring back at me today. 

But now that I'm staring at my reflection in the mirror, I'm starting to hate the person I have become. I have become someone who lets herself be manipulated, treated like crap and never stands up for herself, because I was scared to rock the boat. 

I've become the women who begs to be loved by the person who is treating her horribly.

I have been so focused on making him happy that I have neglected myself, and what I needed to make myself happy. 

Growing up my parents made sure that my sister and I always knew how strong and powerful we are. Somewhere along the way I lost that sense of empowerment, and all I wanted was to get that feeling back.

I  used to love going on adventures. Lucy and I were constantly going on fun adventures, traveling the world and exploring different countries and cultures. 

Heck I even spent my early 20's living in Australia and England, working as a live in nanny. 

Working with children is one of the only things that truly made me feel happy and free.  Like I can be 100 percent myself.... I  feel confident and I'm not afraid of being judged when I am with children. 

I could escape from my head, the part of me that is constantly worried about people judging me. So I made it my mission to make working with children my career. 

Jake always hated that I chose to work with children as my career. I would always hear 'get a real job,' 'your job is so easy anyone could do it... I could even do it if I wanted too.' 

Every single time he would make those comments he made me feel useless and worthless. 

Did I  really want to marry someone who made me feel this way? 

If you asked me six years ago about my wedding day, I would have told you it would have been the best day of my life. 

Things at the beginning were perfect, he swept me off my feet and made me feel so loved and like I was his priority. 

Sadly things have been different ever since Jake proposed to me. His mom moved in with us when she divorced her fifth husband.  The second that she told Jake she was getting a divorce she started making statements that she couldn't be on her own and that she needed her son to take care of her. The next day Jake packed up her stuff and she moved in with us... not that I had much say as I was the one to move in with Jake. 

Over time it became evident that he was slowly choosing her over me, canceling our dates so that he could be there for his mom. 

I absolutely hated it when I was alone with her because she would make comments like, 'why are you on birth control and using condoms? Your supposed to be giving me grand babies...' meaning that she went through our garbage can in our bedroom. 

Every time I would tell Jake what she would say to me he would not believe me. After a while I wouldn't tell him, because what was the point if he wasn't going to believe me anyway. 

It was almost like he had only proposed because his mom forced him. He was not interested in any part of the wedding planning and every time I mentioned it to him he would roll his eyes or not even look at me, to busy playing his video game.

Every time he would get mad at me he would tell me he loved me a little bit less each time. He would make comments that I was stupid or dumb when I didn't understand something.

I couldn't help but wonder if I was making the right decision by marrying him. 

Did I truly love him, or did I love the idea of getting married and starting a family? 

Everything was setup for the wedding. We had booked a hotel venue, that has a gorgeous event room that over looked the Miami waters. 

I heard a knock on the door, breaking me from my thoughts. 

I turned around in the chair I was sitting in and saw my little sister Katie and Lucy walk into the room, a nervous look on both their faces. 

"What's wrong?" I questioned as I quickly jumped up from the seat I was sitting in and rushed over to them. Fearing that something had gone wrong with the venue set up. 

Katie was in charge of making sure the tables were set just the way I had envisioned. And Lucy was the person the vendors were supposed to contact if there was something wrong. 

"We are so worried about you, you have not seemed happy the couple of years but especially the last 6 months. You are supposed to be so happy leading up to your wedding." Lucy said as she pulled me into a big hug.

"Danielle, please don't be mad at us. We did it because we love you, and you deserve to do the things that make you happy." My little sister Katie said as she walked farther into the room I was occupying holding a small white envelope in her hands.

I looked at her, curious. "What are you talking about?" 

"Just read the letter." Lucy said as she looked down, afraid to look me in my eyes. 

My eyes glanced down at the letter that was now in my hands. I looked at the address that the letter came from and it came from Monaco, which confused me even more. I didn't know anyone from Monaco. I quickly opened the letter and began to read. 

Dear Ms. Danielle Andersen, 

Thank you so much for applying for the nanny position. 

We are extremely impressed with your resume, and your experience as a live in nanny in both England and Australia. Your previous employers could not say enough good things about you. 

We look forward to welcoming you into our home and into our busy lifestyle, we believe you are the perfect fit.  

We look forward to getting to know you better, 

Kelly Piquet and Max Verstappen 

I looked up from the letter shocked, what has just happened? What had I just read? 

Max Verstappen... wasn't he the formula 1 racer? 

I didn't know much about the sport just that he was consistently winning races. 

They wanted ME to be their nanny...

Just the thought of traveling to new places made my heart jump in excitement... Something that I hadn't felt in a while. 

"Oh, Katie... Lucy" I started before pausing, trying to find the right words to say as a tear slowly started to roll down my cheek. 

My head spinning as a million different thoughts ran though my head. 

I thought about the letter I just read, and the marriage I was about to jump headfirst into... the marriage that seemed to be already falling apart at the seams. 

"Elle, I have seen you suffering in silence for years. I've seen you slowly lose your light and your beautiful smile." Lucy said as she cupped my face between her hands, using one of her thumbs to gently brush away the tear that was slowly running down my face. 

I could see her take a deep breath as Katie started speaking. 

"We miss your smile; we miss your adventurous spirit. The moment you met Jake, you have been slowly but surely losing yourself to make him shine and be happy. When has he ever put you first? When has he ever established boundaries with his mom? You spent 4 years in a relationship where all you did was put them first. For gods sake you neglected your own happiness to provide and take care of them." 

Katie took another deep breath as she pulled me into her arms for a big hug.

"Last week we were looking for nanny jobs overseas for you, and this one popped up. I quickly called Lucy and we decided that we should apply for you; we hoped you would get it. So, you could leave this place, and start over."

Tears welled in my eyes as I pulled both her and Lucy into a big group  hug. 

My wedding dress suddenly feeling a little bit tighter than when I put it on 10 minutes prior, as the nerves of what I was about to do started to get the better of me. 

"Katie, you're supposed to be the little sister, when did you get so wise?" I said as I gave her a big hug, thankful for the comfort as tears started to roll down my face. 

"I'm going to do it. I have been sacrificing my happiness for way too long. Traveling and being a nanny makes me happy. Now I just need to go tell Jake that I don't want to get married anymore." 

"I love you big sis! Now go tell Jake, I'll go tell mom and dad that the wedding is cancelled." Katie said as she gave me a big hug. "I'm so proud of you for finally choosing you, for finally doing what is going to make you happy." 

"I'll go tell the venue and the vendors that the wedding is cancelled." Added Lucy as she gave me another big hug, before making her way down to the event space. 

I picked up the glass of champagne that was sitting of the table beside me and chugged it before making my way out of the room and down the hall was to where Jake was getting ready for our wedding. 

'That's odd.' I thought as I noticed a pair of red heels right by the door of the suit, that the hotel wedding venue had given us. 

With each step I took I could feel my heart beating faster and faster as I noticed things around the room. 

Looking for any sign or signal that something was not right. 

Every step I took, I could feel my heart sink as the realization started to sink in. 

The further I stepped in the room the more I noticed, there were two glasses of half drank wine sitting beside a box of untouched chocolate covered strawberry, and an opened box of condoms. 

'What the fuck?' I questioned. I could feel my body start to shake in anticipation of what I was about to see next. 

When I got to the door of bathroom, I could hear the sound of the shower running, as well as the sounds of loud moans echoed through the room. 

Instantly my heart dropped, 'how could he do this to me on our wedding day?' I could feel the tears weld up in my blue eyes. 

I was not going to let him see me cry, I was not going to give him the satisfaction of letting him see me hurt. 

I took a deep breath and mustered up all the courage I could, as I reached for the door handle. 

"Elle" screamed Jake as soon as he saw me. Quickly trying to cover up the person he was having an affair with his body. 

To my surprise, the person he was having sex was my childhood friend Alexis. 

"YOU!" I screamed as I pointed at him, "How could you? And with my friend." 

"Elle, let me explain" stuttered Jake as he frantically reached around for a towel as he stepped out of the shower. 

I looked over towards Alexis and I could see her smirking at me. Just the sight of her smirking at me made my anger boiling inside of me come to a head. 

"Elle, babe. It's not my fault that you couldn't satisfy Jake sexually. I'm only giving him what you couldn't." Alexis said as she twirled soaking wet blond hair around her ring finger, the biggest smirk on her face. 

"Alexis, babe" I mimicked " a little word of advice, he's only with you because you made it easy for him. Do yourself a favour and get out now. You don't want to have to deal with him or his mother."

"And YOU, are you fucking kidding me... after everything I have put up with for you. You couldn't do the decent thing and tell me you wanted to end things instead of cheating on me with my friend. I dealt with the constant lies and manipulation from both you and your mother. I had to live with the controlling behaviours, afraid to stand up for myself.  I put up with all of that for you because I loved you. I put your happiness before my own. I stopped doing the things I love because of you. I was losing myself to make you happy. And you didn't even notice, you were too busy fucking my best friend."

Quickly I slipped off the engagement ring that had been on my ring finger for the last for two years, throwing it on the ground as I walked out of the room, my head held high so that they did not have the satisfaction of seeing me cry. 

When I got into my car the tears ran down my cheeks like a waterfall as I desperately tried to wipe them away. 

"Fuck them." I screamed out in frustration as I put my car in dive. 'I deserve better than the way he treated me. I'm going to find someone who treats me better than Jake ever did'

I quickly turned onto the highway and made my way to the apartment I had been living in for the past 3 years. 

In record time I packed up my belongings and put them into the trunk of my vehicle. Thankfully I didn't have much things at the apartment. 

I drove to my parents house to drop off my belongings, as I only planned on bringing my carryon and one suitcase. 

I was going to drive to the airport and hop on the first flight out to Monaco so I could start me new adventure. I was not going to let anything stop me from being myself and happy again. 

I could see my parents standing at the door, waiting for me when I pulled into their driveway.

"Oh Elle," my mother said as she pulled me into a big hug as soon as I stepped out of the car. "I'm so proud of you, what you did takes a lot of courage and strength." 

"Hey, it's my turn to hug her now." My dad teased as he pulled me from my mothers arms and gave me a big hug. I couldn't help but smile as a tear rolled down my cheek, there is something about a fathers embrace that makes you feel safe and loved. "I'm so proud of the women you are today. I will always be here to support you, no matter what." 

"Hey! Is it my turn yet? Elle has a plane to catch" Katie whined as she pulled me into her arms for a big hug. "Love you big sister, amazing things are about to come your way. Please promise me something... If love comes knocking on your door, please don't be afraid to answer it. I have a feeling your person is on his way to you." 

"I promise." I said giggling. 

"Here's your plane ticket." Dad said as he handed me a plane ticket. "As soon as Katie told us about the job opportunity we booked your flight." 

"But how did you know you I was going to take the job?" 

"We had faith that you would finally see what we have been seeing for the last three years. You deserve the world Elle. Fight for what you want and don't settle just because your afraid of the unknown." My father said as he pulled me close for another hug. 

"If you ever need us, please call and we will be on the first flight to you." My mother added as she gave me one last hug. 

I waved goodbye to my sister and parents and hopped into a Uber making my way to the Miami airport to start my new adventure.

Once I got to the airport I thanked the driver and made my way inside the airport my carry one and suitcases wheeled behind me. 

There was only a small crowd of people at the airport, so checking into the flight and going through security was effortless. 

Before making my way to the gate, I stopped by the Starbucks and got myself a grande ice Carmel macchiato. 

I was just about to start walking when I felt something knocking into me, causing the coffee I was holding in my arms to spill all over me. 

"Oof" I gasped out, looking down at my now coffee stained white T-shirt. 

"oh mon dieu." The handsome stranger said, as he looked down at my now stained t-shirt. 

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking." 

His thick French accent catching my attention. 

I looked up at the stranger who had bumped into my me and I couldn't help but get lost in his beautiful green eyes. 

I could see a faint blush on his cheeks as he was embarrassed about knocking into me. 

"Please don't worry, it was an accident. I also wasn't paying attention to where I was going." I said smiling at the stranger hoping to make him feel better about the whole situation. 

"Anyways, I  kind of like the new look. I know I usually drink my coffee not wearing it, but I think this could be a new fashion trend." I joked trying to make this beautiful stranger laugh. 

It was music to my ears when his laugher filled the air. 

"Here, please take my sweatshirt. It's the least I can do for ruining your shirt." He said as he pulled the hoodie  over his head and held it out for me to take. 

"Oh no, really it's okay." I said as I tried to hand back the hoodie that was now in my hands. 

"Please." He begged, as he smiled at me. 

"Fine," I huffed admitting defeat as I pulled the hoodie over my head, catching a whiff of the cologne he was wearing. Damn he smelled amazing. "Thank you." 

"It's the least I could do, it looks better on you anyways." He said as he ran his fingers through his hair smiling. The movement, allowed me to see his bicep muscles that were peaking out from his white t-shirt. 

"Calling passengers on flight 130 to Italy. The plane is ready for boarding. Calling all passengers in first class to board first"  Rang through the speakers throughout the airport.

"That's me." The stranger sighed as he gave me a small smile. "Have a safe flight." 

"You too." I said as I watched him walk towards his gate. 

I couldn't help but giggle as I thought about what just happened, as I made my way to my gate. This kind of stuff happens in movies... not to normal people like me. 

                  …Charles's POV…

As I rushed to reach my gate, my mind couldn't help but drift to the beautiful brown hair, blue eyed women. 

I couldn't get the pictures of her wearing my hoodie out of my mind, the way it hung loosely on her petite body. 

The images of her smiling face engraved into my mind the moment I bumped into her spilling all her coffee on her. 

Thankfully she was drinking an ice coffee or the accident would have been more serious. 

The sound of her laugh when she joked with me about me spilling her coffee all over her. I could tell that she was trying to make me feel better about the whole situation.

As I reached the gate, slightly out of breath I could see my little brother Arthur standing at the gate waiting for me to board. 

"Bro, What took you so long?" He questioned as he saw me rush towards him a big smile on my face. "Dude, why are you smiling like that? And what the hell happened to your sweatshirt?" 

"Bro, I think I just ran into my future wife." I sighed as her adorable smile pierced through my mind. "I just wish there was some way, I could find her again." 

I quickly told him what happened as i handed the lady at the gate my passport, and boarding pass. 

"Bro, if it's meant to be you will run into her again, hopefully not making a fool of your self this time." Arthur teased as we walked towards our seats.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #romance fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #charles imagine #f1 imagine #racing fanfic #wattpad #fanfiction

[tojisbootycall]

sorry yearly rewatch of spn has my trans sam brainrot coming out. read below the cut at your own risk cuz i gotta get this out before i keep going on my own fic

Sam first feels it walking home from school. He's in fifth grade and Dean goes to the middle school. They're supposed to meet every day at 3:45 on the corner of Wilson and Main. Sam always goes where Dean tells him to go so he's on his way when the creep sloughs down his spine. Maybe last year he wouldn't have felt the prick of being watched but he's nine now and he's started to notice things. Things like how Dean's throat has a bump in it where his does not. How his father and Dean have hair where Sam's skin is smooth. He's started to notice his chest and how it's slowly but surely getting bigger. It makes him nauseous, these understandings, but he doesn't know why. Doesn't know why it makes him want to punch a hole in the wall. All he knows is that last week Dean tried to be brotherly and take him to go get "feminine" stuff and he threw a tantrum so big the motel owner threatened to kick them out.

At least Dean hasn't mentioned anything about it since.

Still, Sam automatically scans his surroundings. He's older now, his father has taught him things. Nothing like Dean, who Sam thinks could fight the world and win. No, John treats him like he is breakable. He shows Sam how to curl a fist, how to dodge one, and how to aim a gun. He never shows him how to take a hit. Not like Dean. But still, he's started to teach Sam more about the world they really live in, so he watches the shadows carefully, waiting for movement.

When he doesn't find any, he turns back around. He immediately bumps right into someone. It's a woman. She's taller than him. He's still achingly short for his age. He hopes one day he'll get a growth spurt like Dean did.

The lady looks down at him and Sam gets an uneasy feeling. John has told him to trust these feelings so he does. He takes a step back. The lady just smiles more, raising her eyebrow at him. She's pretty, Sam notes, with smooth skin and long black hair, a dress that reaches her knees. "You okay there?" she says, and her voice is silky in Sam's ears.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and he hates how his voice sounds. That he can't manage the gruff tone of Dean and his father even when he tries, the only traces of it coming out when he screams.

"What a polite young girl," the woman says.

Sam flinches involuntarily. He doesn't really know why. Just that it sounds wrong to him, those words strung together. Still, he's always supposed to be polite. "Thank you, ma'am," he says, looking up at her. If he doesn't go now he'll be late meeting Dean.

"You don't like that, do you?" the woman says. It's an inquisitive tone, not a fact, like she's observed something about him. Sam doesn't like that she has read him so easily.

"I'm a girl, ma'am, no worries." Yet the words feel like ash on his tongue. A curse given voice.

"Do you want to be? Sam, do you want to look like me when you grow up?"

And he has not given her his name. Sam backs up for real now, and yet takes her in all the same. How her hips are gentle curves, how the dress hugs her thin waist, her full chest. How the apple of her cheeks are adorned with blush, how her eyes are soft with mascara and shadow. How her hair cascades in thick waves, slightly curled. She's beautiful.

Sam does not want to be beautiful like this.

"I-I need to get Dean," he says, more to himself than her.

"I'm not here for Dean," she says, taking a step. Her eyes flick to black before settling back to brown and Sam shoots straight up. He's nine. This is a demon. Dean will never make it here in time. "I'm here for you, Sam." She crouches down to his level and takes his face in her soft yet firm hands. "I'm not here to hurt you, little one. I'm simply asking you a question. Do you want to look like me, Sam?"

"I don't want to make a deal!"

"No deals, Sam. I promise. Just yes or no."

He opens his eyes to look at her, forces himself to be brave because Dean would always be brave in times like this. Dean's not scared of anything. He thinks he's seen Dean scared once or twice, when their dad comes home drunk or angry, but those times he just locks the two of them in the motel bedroom until morning.

The woman's grip doesn't ease. Sam is nine, he can't outfight another being. So he squares his shoulders like he's seen Dean do and looks straight into her eyes. "No," he says, glad his voice doesn't shake.

"Okay," she says, releasing him. "What do you want instead?"

"What?"

"You don't want to be a girl, Sam." She runs a finger along his arms, a gentle nail down his throat like she has read his innermost thoughts. "What do you want instead?"

Sam looks at her long, long hair. It sways at her waist. His is almost as long. It's dark and brown and thick. He hates it, but every time he begs for a cut he's ignored. There's never enough time, enough money.

He curls his hand into a fist. "Sh-short hair," he hisses out, almost ashamed to say any of his wants to this thing, this demon. "I want short hair like Dean's."

"Okay, Sam."

There's a soft snap of her fingers, and when Sam looks again, the woman is gone. It's only a second before he hears his name being yelled from down the block in that gravelly voice that's still creaking and cracking in the middle.

When Dean catches up to him he nearly stops in his tracks, mouth still half open to yell at him for being late. "Dude. What the fuck did you do to your hair?"

Sam's fingers move slowly up his neck, and even then he can feel it. The soft fuzz of his hair on the nape of his neck. It's been shaved down, and when he shakes his head slightly, he can feel the shaggy layers against his cheekbones. His head feels inexplicably light. "Oh. Uh, I cut it. In the bathroom."

Dean assesses him. He reaches out and runs a hand through Sam's hair, then slaps him across the head. "Dad's so gonna have a fit."

Sam sticks his tongue out at him. "I don't care." And he doesn't, because for the first time in recent memory, Sam feels like Sam.

Dean rolls his eyes and throws an arm over his little brother's shoulders, steering him in the direction of the motel. "Whatever. Looks good, kid."

Sam shoves him and takes off, sticking his middle finger up back at Dean. He laughs when he hears the sound of his brother's footsteps running after.

"Not a kid!" he yells, and thinks maybe, one day, his voice can crack like Dean's too.

#spn #supernatural #trans!sam #levi writes #gonna add more to this as i feel like it #because by god i'll be damned if i add supernatural to my ao3 authored fics #this is staying between me god and tumblr

[frecklystars]

feels absolutely fucking devastating that i cant look at TF without getting nauseous. i tried to draw starscream giving me a hug bc i miss him and i need him but i couldnt make it past 5 minutes without getting sick. i cant do it. i cant fucking do it. i hate my abuser for what she did to me, i hate that she took my joy from me. i spend all this time loving all over ryan's/margot's characters but then i get hit with this fucking empty numb stab to the chest when i remember what i lost. i spent 3 years thinking about TF nonstop so of course my brain is automatically remembering TF because it's used to receiving serotonin from that -- but now when TF pops into my head, it's like, i get that sick feeling, this ache in my core that's like... i lost something that helped me stay alive and i feel aimless without it. i love ken but he isnt starscream. i love six but he isnt bee. i love seb but he isn't fixit.

well it really isn't my birthday unless if i'm having a fucking breakdown right. i wasn't supposed to live this year. i say that every year, but this was such a bad fucking year, this was the worst year of my life and it just keeps fucking going. i cannot put into words how much of your own life trauma takes from you. it's the only thing your brain can think about and you're even hurting when you're asleep. i attempted to take my life so many times and someone i trusted used that against me, took advantage of my vulnerability and turned my only comfort characters against me. im bitter and im depressed and i just want that part of myself back but it just feels so hopeless

there was nothing that comforted me the way TF did, the cameos i bought, the comics i made, the animatics i planned, the playlists with hundreds of songs that i can no longer listen to. the endless amounts of shows and movies i could have spent time enjoying. fuck, if i didn't meet my abuser, i'd be enjoying earthspark. i've heard that stsc is treated with respect there, that his abuse is taken seriously. and he's voiced. by steve. blum. and i would have loved it. i would have wept for it. i would have made so much art. that was MY JOY that was fucking ROBBED from me. steve blum told me with his own voice in his own words looking into my eyes, keri i hope you enjoy earthspark, im excited for you to see starscream. and i. cant.

it's horrifying when my therapist tells me that my reaction to TF isnt just a c-ptsd trigger response but it's also a grief response. that im grieving this Thing because it's so ruined. and it's not just TF that i lost, it's... the experiences, like, what the hell dude i met steve blum after two years of buying so many personalized voice clips from him. that man held me in his arms and squeezed me so tight and he acted like he was as excited to meet me as i was to meet him. he recognized my name written on that envelope i gave to him, and was so overjoyed to meet his "little starflower". that was the best moment of my life and now i look back on it and i just cry about it bc i feel nothing. im so numb to everything related to TF and the voice actors. i've spent hours chatting back and forth with the voice actor for fixit... i have so many cameos and messages/chats where he was so kind to me and we'd talk about anything and everything. i have so many cameos from so many different TF voice actors, instant messages, shoutouts. and when i replay the voice clips of the characters saying "i love you" to me, to me, personalized with my name, it's like i'm hearing them but i'm not internalizing them. like the love the characters have for me is hitting an invisible forcefield and it won't reach me anymore. it's like all of the time i spent loving and being loved by these characters meant jack shit. i had special experiences with real people! with real voice actors!! i had!!! conversations!!! ive had my artwork held in these peoples hands!!!! my art is on steve blum's desk!!!! his agent promoted my artwork on instagram three separate times before he put it on all of his websites and i can't be happy about that anymore. i'm trying! i'm trying!! but i feel nothing! it's not like i want to feel this way!

and im bitter about it. i was mistreated for so long, and when i was offline, unable to defend myself, my abuser spread rumors about me to artists that i had never even met. our friends in our inner circle blocked me when i was hurting and i hadn't even spoken to them in months, and when i asked why i was suddenly unable to chat with them, she said "don't worry about it." she spent MONTHS trying to tarnish my name despite the fact that i cut ties with her way back in the beginning of the year. i remember the time she told me over the phone "i'm getting attached to you... it's not good. that's going to be a problem for you." and i didn't know what she meant at the time but god that was my 50 billionth red flag that i overlooked. she told me repeatedly that she hurts people. i almost thought she was bragging about it, she wore her misery like a badge. i just kept taking excuse after excuse after excuse until this person killed the core part of myself. i had no strength to fight back. i hate myself for putting up with all of her shitty behavior. i sometimes wish i never ever got into TF at all in the first place, so i'd never meet her, so i'd never know all of the f/os that i lost

barbie at least breathed a little bit of life back into me but i still have days where i feel like a zombie. im just a dead body feeling like my heart was ripped out of me and im supposed to just go through the fucking motions as if nothing happened? as if someone didnt spend over a year hurting me on purpose every chance she got? and i spent the whole day today trying so so so hard to enjoy my birthday, but i had ptsd flashbacks at work. i still have nightmares about my f/os physically hurting me and saying that they're doing it for my abuser. sometimes i have nightmares about ken hurting me, the dream starts off really soft but then suddenly my abuser will show up and it's as if he's under a spell, and he snaps into some entirely different person, fists raised and he becomes a monster. i've never associated my abuser with any of ryan's characters but! im just traumatized! i guess!!!

i didnt start to enjoy my bday today until i sat down to watch the barbie movie with one of my friends. but once that ended i saw that inbox message of someone loving starscream so much and it made me so nauseous. i miss him. i had something so fucking special and it's ruined and i just want it back. im never getting it back. "this is not a temporary love" was just a big fucking joke. my saving starlight AU, all of the years i've spent working on my stories and my universes, everything i've done, all of it was so pointless. it's so painful to look at a comfort character and to flinch, to immediately think that they'd have no greater joy than to betray me the way my abuser did. she would go into such explicit detail about the vile, disgusting things they would do, the most atrocious unspeakable things, and i can't shake that out of my head. i keep holding onto blind hope that i can heal from it but it feels hopeless

i can only afford therapy once a month now, i can't afford my meds, i'm never going to have parents or siblings who will love me. i wasn't supposed to live to see my bday this year and i am so fucking angry that none of my attempts worked. there's one attempt that was so close and i think about it at least once every few days, how i'd surely succeed if i tried one more time. and that scares me!!! i don't want to think like that!!!! i want to get better damn it!!!! i'm so sick of feeling so goddamn bad!!!! but i've never had self shipping be ruined for me like that, i've never had comfort characters be ruined for me, i've never had a special interest be turned into a trigger and used against me. i've never been betrayed by someone i trusted like that.

i am grateful for barbie/ken/six/etc but god it's not enough. it's not starscream, it's not bee, it's not what i had before. it's not the same. and when this hyperfixation fades i'm going to go back to feeling nothing, and i'm so terrified of that. i don't want to go back to crawling and begging to feel something again. i'm shocked this hyperfixation has lasted longer than 2 months. i don't want to lose it, i'm so scared of when i'll lose it and when i'll be completely empty again.

i am so broken it's like someone spent over a year stabbing me with a dull knife and then cutting me off from a handful of my friends, kicking me into the dirt and everyone expects me to just get up and brush it off. and i feel like people don't understand this feeling unless if they've experienced abuse/ptsd as well. it feels like my bday every year gets worse and worse and if i'm going to feel this fucking bad i wish that something inside of me would finally just kill me. i'm sick of being so heartbroken and if things can't get better then i really just want it all to be over. i dont care whats in the afterlife, if there's something or if there's nothing, anything is better than this constant misery eating me up

#vent #delete later #suicide mention

[beevean]

I read IDW #50.

We already discussed plenty about the whole Metal part. It’s stupid. Sonic comes off as an arrogant, defensive dickhead, and that whole scene is literally a way to distract them without adding anything to the characters. Bad writing. Move along.

I see Kit is in his “I AM THE TALLEST OF MOUNTAINS I AM THE ROUGHEST OF WAVES” phase. It’s a nice contrast compared to his doormat behavior, so I don’t mind. The artist went a little overboard, but that’s a nitpick.

“If you had just taken them out, I wouldn’t have been made!” Oh, for fuck’s sake. Really? Again? Now Surge is the one blaming Sonic for not killing Eggman and Starline? I am so sick of this song and dance! This is the third time! We did this during the MV arc! We did this with the Zeti! Enough! I don’t care how compelling of a conflict it is, I don’t care that it makes sense for Surge to blame her woes on the person she’s programmed to hate, it’s boring! This is the fourth time, clearly Sonic isn’t going to learn!

Also, I can’t fucking believe this. Surge really made fun of Sonic’s “moral code”. I’m sorry Flynn, this lampshade you’re hanging isn’t quite bright enough :V

Nothing to say about the Eggman vs. Starline fight. It’s brilliant. Eggman is the best he’s ever been since the beginning of the MV arc, if not at all, and I love the way he serves Starline some humble pie <3

Tails is also pretty nice. Of course he’d take down Kit thanks to the Power of Friendship lol, although I hope he’s being genuine and not manipulative. And ngl, I always found Kit’s concept really creepy, so seeing him pretty much shortcircuit because 1) someone is complimenting him for the first time in his life, and 2) he’s being treated as an individual and not as Surge’s lackey... yeah alright that’s good conflict.

“Surge has to destroy Sonic! It’s all she wants! I won’t let you stop her!” nope still makes me feel nauseous. Intended reaction, sure, but still.

"I’ve fought a few folks with the whole ‘the world wronged me so i’m going to destroy the world’ schtick” uhhh chaos, shadow, and?

on a plus side love that Sonic is calling Surge’s whole personality a schtick. Yeah, Surge, you’re just a gimmick, sorry.

We also talked extensively about Sonic’s incredibly self-righteous, holier-than-thou speech. I hate it. It’s awful. Sonic comes off as an arrogant prick who only wants to look good but doesn’t actually want to put the effort into it. Moving on.

Okay, this is just funny. Okay, yes, this is Sonic’s canon mentality.. But after that whole speech, I can’t take it seriously lmao. Especially how Surge keeps mentioning Sonic’s “morals”, that’s way too self aware

The encounter between Eggman and Belle was totally pointless. “hey you wanna join me?” “no” “kbye”. Mayyyybe his delight at how Belle interfaced with Metal’s code is foreshadowing? Not counting on it, but I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt because otherwise boy was it anticlimatic.

Sonic immediately rushed to save Eggman when he was about to fall into the lava in Lava Mountain without any sort of joke or “truce”. just sayin’

i do like how petty surge is though lol

Why do you sound like such a patronizing asshole.

yeah, no one could survive that. right.

Welp. That was it. Underwhelming, but not totally awful. Kit vs. Tails was okay, but only because my boy was done justice and I can’t help but feel bad for Kit no matter how boring he is. Surge vs. Sonic 100% infuriating, I hate this Sonic too much, his conflict is annoying and repetitive and he just won’t learn, only shining point is that I relate to Surge accepting that no one gives a shit about her. Starline vs. Eggman, I need that injected into my veins, oh such delicious food in preparations of how they’ll treat him in frontiers i guess please stick with us emperor eggman of the great eggpire <3

#sonic the hedgehog #fans don't look

[jthm-moved]

hey i feel the "cant have an ed correctly" post a lot, i promise you that you don't need to "get worse" to be allowed to seek it because youre already worthy of help :( we both are. you arent alone, there are people who understand you that you can reach out to once you find youre able to/comfortable. you don't have to be sicker, you only have to be yourself - and yourself is a good thing. sorry if this is weird

it’s not weird, i appreciate you

when i said i need to get sicker to become deserving of treatment i meant it. i’ve gone to 5 different doctors and specialists and every single one of them has either actively made my ed worse by instilling even more destructive behaviors in me or hasn’t taken me seriously whatsoever.

i was still overweight (175lbs) when i went to see the first specialist. this was years after i had first experienced disordered eating—it was also a major problem when i was 12-13 because of the decade of SA i had been going through. no one questioned that either simply because i was still at a “healthy” weight.

the woman i saw looked at me, sobbing and begging for help, and did nothing. when i screamed about “barely eating anything,” she said that was the reason why i was fat and hated myself without going into any detail about why that would happen. she told me to ditch my current diet and start completely from scratch with no plan set in place. i was sent home with nothing and was not prompted to go back. so i didn’t.

flash forward to a little less than a year ago. i began intermittent fasting, every single day. i still do it. every single day for no less than 16 hours—i have lost exactly 50lbs this way. i am no longer considered overweight. i’ve gone to more doctors to ask them for help, thinking that at this point there would be something concerning them enough to look into.

nothing, 4 more times. my endocrinologist saw nothing wrong with my condition. she even complimented me on my drastic weight loss the last time we saw each other, triggering me into continuing despite me pouring my heart out to her. i had lost 30lbs in those 3 months between visits by starving myself. every. single. day.

and now that i’m at a “healthy” weight again, they simply see me as a fat person attempting to keep their weight down. i’ve told them about my fasting. i’ve told them about how looking into a reflective surface used to make me extremely nauseous. no. as long as i’m at a “healthy” weight, i’m where i should be and there’s nothing to treat.

i have severe body dysmorphia. i bodycheck several dozen times a day. i have harmed myself over the utter hatred and devastation i feel being forced to live in this body. so much hatred and devastation that i sometimes HEAVILY dissociate just to forget, to be away from the pain of knowing for a little while. i weigh myself every single morning and get upset over changes in it, down to the ounce.

i self dx atypical anorexia. this means i am anorexic, but the only trait i do not have is being severely underweight. such a diagnosis is so fucking rare because doctors are too stupid to realize that anorexia is a mental illness. it shouldn’t fucking matter how much you weigh. once you start feeling that way about yourself you should be entitled to treatment.

being turned down again and again has made me feel like the only way anyone who can help me will ever care about my condition is if i’m on the brink of death. when it’s probably too late for me. i want to be noticed. i want to be told that i can get better, and here’s how we’re going to do it.

the attitude towards eating disorders in a medical sense fucking disgusts me. who knows how many other people have gotten severely ill and/or died because of it.

#asks #ed #tmi #long post #i’m sorry if this sounds rude i just really do not feel good right now

[thegenderfluidace]

Whoops accidental vent below the line

Why is it now, when I’m about to go to sleep, that I feel the best I’ve probably felt all day

And not, I don’t know, before work where I had a mental breakdown and it was just very lucky that my mum was driving me to work because I had a migraine so she went in and told whoever was closing that I could not in fact work tonight because I was crying in the car

Like I’m pretty sure today, this week, was doomed to failure.

Like today we took my cat to the vet for her first ever check up(where she was in fact(surprisingly) a very good girl, no hissing, scratching, growling, biting, she was a very good kitty for them and we got new cat treats that hopefully she does actually really like and have her one as a good job you were good kitty) but I ended up having more anxiety there then her, she’s healthy and perfectly fine, got some shots, vaccines and stuff, and she didn’t even flinch when getting em and I physically could not look at the needles

And then after that had to go to my (ex) best friend’s farewell thingy(thing Mormons have before they go on there mission) she used to be my best friend for years and then she just kept not wanting to plan things and when we did she’d always flake and she’d never respond when I’d message her anymore and she just became a really sucky friend

We couldn’t even stay there long(not that I really wanted to) cause I had work, but cause neither me nor my mum are Mormon and my dad doesn’t even really remember much of what he did when he was, apparently we went there underdressed because everyone else was wearing like suits and dresses and there were so many people, it was stupid and stressful and I hated it. I didn’t want to be there, only fun part was when her friend was talking about 3d printing and showing us pics of his cats(they are so freaking cute, and he was genuinely an actually really nice person) but everything else? Awful, hated it. Didn’t even wanna go.

Day was just way too much for me, woke up with a migraine(which has been continuous for about a week+ish, and surprise gets worse with stress), and then it was cat vet appointment, and then friend thing, which made me stressed and it was making me nauseous so I couldn’t even really take anything for it, and since it was bad enough wasn’t really a great idea for me to drive so asked my mum to take me to work which on the way I did my not really effective coping skill of distract and it’ll maybe go away(which is where I realized the trees looked like they had a bunch of tiny cauliflowers and looked at the baby sheep/sheep that we drive by on my way there(which while saying that if you haven’t seen a baby sheep irl that is so very sad and I feel that needs to be fixed so go find a baby sheep and look at it, I promise it(momentarily) makes everything better) and then when we pulled into the work parking lot we saw that it was the manager that could throw me all off on a good day which it was so not smoking outside and that was when it alllll went downhill. Cause I was not feeling at all better and I knew if she said the wrong thing today I would have a mental breakdown at work and I was so not for that. So instead I had a mental breakdown and panic attack inside the car while my mum went inside to go tell her that I would not be able to work tonight but that I very much tried to actually work tonight(which I did, I genuinely tried so hard to be able to get through today and I just couldn’t) so yep crying in the car in my works parking lot, and proceed to apologize for literally everything and continue to cry and breakdown and then get home cuddle with cats for a bit and then went downstairs to my room to cry and breakdown some more and then take a nap

But now after literally everything I’m feeling okayish now? When I really don’t need to cause imma sleep???

Maybe it’s cause I actually ate and drank some water and took migraine meds which should hopefully help soonish but it’s still annoying

And the reason this week is fated for failure?

I still have so much to do this week and I feel so sucky

And as if life just wanted to laugh in my face I don’t have therapy this week because she’s currently out of state

We knew she was gonna be when we were scheduling therapy but then everything started coming up and it all just so happened to be the week she isn’t here

Lovely. Fantastic. Amazing.

Life was for real like ‘yknow that one week where the person in charge of helping to make sure they don’t absolutely lose it is out of state? Yeah let’s go put all the stressful bad stuff that week. Even better if most of it is literally right before the day they would have therapy just to help point out that they currently do not have it for this one week’

Absolutely great day(not)

Gonna sleep now and hope this week doesn’t suck too much but probably still will!

#ace rambles #ace rants #rant #vent

[ecoamerica]

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[bibliophilebaby]

i never told anyone what she did to me, how she treated me. i'm so fed up of keeping it to myself, hating my sister in secret. but i can't tell anyone, i don't want them thinking of her any differently because she is still my sister. so, since no one reads this, here it is.

she used to steal my food and when my parents asked why she would always just say it would go to waste even if i ate it and winked at me. back then they didn't know anything, they still know barely anything, but she found it humorous that i did it everyday.

she used to follow me up the stairs after dinner and laugh as she watched me go into the bathroom knowing my dinner would soon be in the toilet.

she'd buy me mouth wash as presents.

she'd make sure to leave a razor in my room every now and then when my dad took them all away from me.

she's the one that made me go vegetarian for the best part of two years because she made me believe that the protein in meat was too many calories and i couldn't stomach it.

to this day i still can't eat certain meats. it makes me nauseous.

because of her i buy and eat most of the food i consume when im outside of the house, away from her mocking laugh, away from her stealing it from me.

she used to called me piggy. flabby. chucky. it might seem like typical sister behaviour but when you're struggling so bad with eating you take it to heart.

i hate that she had the power to make me feel so inferior. my sister, my own blood made me feel like my life was so insignificant and encouraged my own destruction.

it enrages me that everyone sees her as perfect. she's the perfect one. she's the perfect daughter, perfect friend. everything. but they didn't see the torment she put me through and they still don't. they never will.

but now she's the one going down the same dark path. she's becoming insecure. dieting. working out too much. having smoothie substitutes as her one meal a day.

i hate seeing her become me. it's like staring into a mirror and seeing the worst years of my life. but in the most awful and inhumane way i like that she can finally realise the effect one little comment can have on your entire perspective of yourself.

it's sickening and i'm ashamed. but i can't say im sorry. i can't say she doesn't deserve to feel even a slither of the pain she inflicted on me.

but i promised myself i wouldn't let it get bad. and i won't.

[feelingsfortheworld]

June 13th, 2023

Good morning. I’m so tired. I woke up at 3am AGAIN and I know this anxious knotting feeling all too well. I started a pilates challenge, which is nice. I have nightmares often. I am so terrified of losing people that I love. I just teared up watching a video about anger on Headspace because it’s true that as a black woman, anger is different. Anger needs to be monitored and stuffed away for fear of being “too emotional” or “dangerous.” The truth is, practically all of my strongest forms of anger are fueled by an even stronger, overwhelming depression or sadness. Yeah, I am pretty emotional. It scares me. My ex and I always said that we wish we could switch; she gets my emotional depth and I get her indifference. Because when you fucking think about it, who’s better off? The sociopathic manipulative serial dater? Or the lovesick obsessive empath? No. My capacity for emotion is my biggest weakness and biggest strength. A fatal flaw that turns me inside out. Yes, of course I despise her, and I hated the way she treated me, and the way she was able to remove herself from my social media accounts within a day of us cutting contact. But I don’t think I could even imagine what it must’ve been like. Cutting me out for good so easily. And the ironic part is that I obviously still am me, and harbor all of these emotions, and it makes me super cautious about doing anything like she did. I don’t want to get hurt; that’s where I need her heartlessness. I don’t want to hurt people; that’s where I use my empathy. But that’s not how it is, is it? No. Instead I suffer with being absolutely terrified of both hurting and getting hurt. Flashbacks. I’m just sitting here remembering 8th grade summer when her hair was short and we could talk for hours about anything. What the fuck. How? Why? She made me the happiest but she made me the saddest. And now she’s nothing but calories and Wellbutrin. Nighttime. There’s this one angle when I look up where I get a searing pain in the back of my neck, and it’s even worse than the usual neck and shoulder pain. I wish I could just stretch it out, but I’ve tried. Eh. Probably worse from stress or something. Everything wrong with me always goes back to my mental health, which does make sense, seeing as that’s my brain. I called my parents today. Normal. Happy. I was calm and didn’t say anything concerning. I passed the eating question, got praised for my commitment to exercise, and talked joyously about my job. It’s not like I’m hiding a debilitating depression from them, but what good would it do to worry them, especially when anything that would “help” would probably make me feel worse. God. I sound like a suicidal 12 year old again. Thinking, no, knowing that everyone was better off without me, even the people that brought me into this world. I’m just. Existing. I feel empty. But not really. Just a little hollower than usual. My stomach started hurting randomly two different times today. I thought it was the excess of coffee that was keeping me standing, and it probably was, at least partially. But I have this nagging feeling like when I felt randomly nauseous when I started talking to my ex again. Nothing was really wrong with me. Well, nothing I exactly wanted to hear. Learning that my loss of appetite and weight loss was chalked up to anxiety and some deranged empathy was just sad to me. That’s it? No underlying cause? No secret illness? No tapeworm eating me from the inside? No. My doctor said “if we can’t fix the mood, we can’t fix the food.” And I think I just sat there numbly, knowing that my mental state is and has always been my hardest medical obstacle. Fuck, it landed me in the ER. Gave me some scars. Mental trauma. Of all the things that could’ve been wrong with me, I dreaded hearing the answer that I think I already knew. You’re losing your grip again. 

[dzpenumbra]

2/18/23

Things took a very big turn today. And I haven't been doing this poorly in a very long time.

I wasn't going to even write tonight. I didn't even eat dinner. I ate a can of chef boyardee and a microwave soup and a rice cake, and I hated all of it and now I have bad heartburn. And all I'm thinking is "I wish I had just gone out and gotten piss drunk, and I don't because drinking makes me feel sick and gives me heartburn... but now I have heartburn so..."

I. Want. To. Smoke. Cigarettes. So. Badly. Right. Now.

I have no idea how I haven't just driven out to literally any convenience store and bought a pack of Marb 27's and sat out on the picnic bench outside my building and just shamefully sucked down that nasty ritual until I felt dizzy and nauseous and kinda like I have to shit. Yeah, really selling it, huh.

Or maybe I can just smoke some weed, yeah? I have a bunch of weed, and a tincture too! Why not just take a few hits and... start questioning my own reality... start hearing my neighbors making sounds through the walls and convincing myself they're conspiring against me... start feeling these intermittent chest pains and heart flutters I've been feeling all night and be absolutely deathly convinced that I have minutes to live...

Wow. Wonder why I don't have any vices... Let's rephrase that, shall we. Because when it's a prescribed pharmaceutical, it's called a "medication" for an emotional regulation issue. When it's Xanax given to you by a psychiatrist in a community counseling service, it's a coping tool to make emotional processing more bearable and healthier. When it's outside of that environment? It's a vice. It's an addiction, to the point where it will actually make it more difficult for you to get prescription medications for the same purpose. Figure that shit out.

This species is just a bunch of dumb fucking apes with fancy gadgets, pretending like we've gotten everything all figured out, acting like we've got it all figured out, even believing we've got the perfect systems and we're so advanced and we look at those just a hair's breadth below us and we snub our noses at how fucking savage and barbaric they are. We have no fucking clue what we're doing. And all of these systems that we've invented are being made up as we go along. And, from my experience, most of the people I'm coming across just don't really understand... no... don't take the time... to understand how to deal with a situation properly. So they tick boxes, and generalize, and lump people into groups like cattle, and off they go, into their generalized plan.

I'm upset. Can you tell?

Why?

Well... today may be the last day of my past life. It certainly feels like it. The person you've been reading here? For a lack of better words... is going to cease to exist. As with every rebirth, I will evolve. I will morph and mutate into another permutation. Maybe that means a name change? Yay. That makes like... 7 now. And every time I am forced to change my life (read: the way I live my life, my habits, my routines, my goals, my focal points, my motivators, all of that), my personality... fragments a bit. I get very disoriented. I have to re-learn how to... live.

I don't mind adjusting my life. I mean, I already am, due to losing my cat. That was a major change. And now... I have to change again. It's been 2 weeks. It's been exactly 2 weeks. I think, I think she was put down on the 3rd. 2/3/23? I was pretty sure. I really don't want to go back and check. So... I guess that's enough grief, time to take a sledgehammer to the rest of my life, yeah? I was saying - keep getting lost in swirling thoughts but one keeps rising to the surface that needs to speak - I don't mind adjusting my life, but this is not my choice. I am not choosing this. I am actually actively resisting and protesting this. And... unfortunately... whenever I do, I get looked at and treated like I am privileged, like I am spoiled, like I am not worthy of the life I desire, like "why do you get the life you want, and this person over here doesn't." That thing.

Well, let me tell you why I get to be an eccentric artist/musician/writer and you are a social worker/investment manager. Because I didn't give up. Because I was willing to pay any price for the life that I deserve. Because I did not turn away. I. Kept. Walking. For years. After finally getting myself off of medications, out of a toxic self-defeating mindset, and out of an incredibly unhealthy relationship... alone... with no support... I reconnected with who I truly am. Who I have been since I was a child. My TRUE SELF. A curious, creative soul who loves to walk around outside barefoot, and look for cool rocks and nature stuff, and play in fantasy worlds, and play with animals, and study history and mythology, and draw cool designs and things I find interesting or captivating. I found that inner self alive and well, incubating inside this rotting husk of a carcass I've been hauling around. And I set him free again, and started to heal. And I gave him new tools. I gave him direction. I gave him inspiration. I united with him. And he is me. Hi.

In the years since I reunited with my True Self, and accepted myself for what I am... I lost every person in my life. All people who I had met at various stages of creative development. My former best friend who I met when I was in college majoring in Art, doing nothing but art all day every day. Her husband, who would talk mythology, spirituality and creativity with me late into the evening. My old Minecraft "friend" who I would constantly talk about --- you know what, I don't even want to talk about these assholes anymore. My point is that these people were all hobbyists. They all were one foot in and one foot out. They were weekend warriors. And when I finally got the framework together to like... put together something legitimate and really try to make a solid push to make this life a real thing, something self-sustaining, something with financial backing and public exposure... they not only retreated, but they actively tried to sway me out of it. They tried to convince me to quit.

They looked at me like a fucking kid, like a hobbyist kid who just didn't really know that the world doesn't work like that. The world doesn't have room for creatives, for artists, for storytellers. That's why I see them everyday, right? Well... those people got lucky. And I'm unlucky. So why fucking bother trying. Go get a job. Any job. Who cares. Make some money. For someone else. For someone else's business. You know, the person who had an idea like "hey, I should make a board game shop", and actually had people in their life who believed in them, supported them. That person. Go make them some money. Go mind their cash register, and sell products to people. You might make some friends. Look at the silver lining, might as well, you literally have no choice. And with the majority of your time that you give to this establishment, you will be not drawing. Not making music. Not working on your list of 14 unfinished projects that you could really use a hand making a reality.

Hey, you know what occurred to me? The people who give me this like... fatalistic advice on how you really have no choice but to go and join the in-person labor force by working for someone who already has an established foothold in the region... these people conveniently are rarely even aware of what projects I have open ended and ready at a moments notice to be worked on. Here, let me share, I have a whiteboard to my right that I look at every day that is completely full of unfinished projects.

-Shape and Polish Stones (might not go for a ton, but they're unique, they're hand-crafted, and if I get into rune/glyph/sigil carving and blessing rituals and stuff, I could probably sell them for a bit, at least as a package deal) -Wirewrap stones (I do not have enough devoted hours to this to feel comfortable selling these pieces) -Carve wooden beads (again, lacking tools and experience, but went with painting instead, and I am currently troubleshooting a process) -Weave Cordage (aka just make bracelets or necklaces from only hemp, or maybe added beads. Won't go for much, but I could get one done in a day.) -Wood carving (staves, reliefs, that kinda thing. I prefer carving walking sticks, it's just sorta been the thing I have had the most experience with. Again, working with cheap tools but that's whatever. I have thought for a long time that this could really be something that people would put some serious value on. They are, however, a big time sink and very rough on the forearms) -Tarot study (there are 2 shops less than 15 minutes away from me that offer tarot readings. I was going to do them on Twitch, I just would prefer to be more acquainted with the cards before I start charging, but that's my inner perfectionist talking. I also have no ability to practice with others, which makes this insanely anxiety inducing, its one of the only interpersonal projects on the list.) -SketchDaily (a drawing subreddit, this is for keeping my drawing skills sharp) -Poetry/Lyrics (always neglected, but music was going to be my conduit back into it. But, just spinning too many plates, not enough hours in the day. I do have my poetry BOOK that I put together that I could try to get published, but no one has really seemed to give half a shit about it... ever... so... not a lot of incentive there) -Poetry Illustration (obviously a pairing, and a way to either turn my book into a more immersive experience, or to serialize my poetry by turning each poem into its own book and illustrating each metaphoric image, my poetry has a lot of visual metaphors and scenes, it's very dream-like, so I was thinking of doing mini-books that are illustrations scene-by-scene of each line in the poems. A LOT OF WORK, but the end result would be stunning) -Clothing Art (this was a big one before coming up to the new city, I was really banking on this. But the fact that no one has even mentioned or really seemed to notice my custom designed hoodie that I wear literally everywhere... has been nothing short of disappointing. Maybe it will draw more focus if I add color, I've had the theory for a while, or at least some lighter shades, like a lighter grey or something. It's at the front of my mind. I would be doing these pieces on commission, and since they are handdrawn in permanent ink... probably charging tattoo prices for them, the gimmick is "clothing tattoos") -Simian Storytime Storyboards (I was going to do a graphic novel/comic strip kinda series where I illustrated very powerful moments of my life, but all the people in it were... like a missing-link ancestor of modern humans. Where they resembled the people who I am drawing, and myself of course, but I am portraying them as primitive. There are a lot of layers to this, mostly playing on the fact that during these interactions and memories, the less evolved parts of the brain are what we tend to be using. This is a call-back to a very short sketch series I started doing back in college, I remember these pictures very vividly, of apes in business suits with briefcases, and stuff like that. Reminders that we are animals, and it's kinda silly that we keep trying to act like we're not. This is much more fine art than anything else)

This was after I purged dozens of ideas from the summer. Any single one of these ideas I could delegate to a team. Any one of these ideas I could get assistance with, would be reaching a different type of audience, and could be maintained autonomously. And people giving me the advice that I should just give up and find some other thing to do? Come back to this in 5-10 years? When I'm 41-46? I mean... hopefully I'll have a young kid by then... and I really don't know if I'm going to be able to manage a full-time job, a kid and all of these projects, I just don't see it happening. I can't even do these projects and reliably get my fucking laundry done, dude. The people giving me advice to give up don't know a damn thing about how much I have available. This isn't even touching music - hip-hop, improv, metal, drums, guitar, bass, vocals, arrangement, transcription, orchestration, scoring. This isn't even touching acting. This isn't even touching tutoring. I have spent this much of my life developing these skills, honing them, and I'm far from perfect. I have plenty of flaws, I have so much more work to be done. I am constantly improving, constantly finding flaws to refine. Constantly finding ways I can reduce finger movements in my sloppy self-taught guitar playing. I am far from perfect as an artist, as a musician. I have plenty of flaws and weaknesses. But I am authentic, and I live my art. It comes from the heart. It's my way of speaking to the world.

Like this. This is my way of speaking to the world. Hi, world. This is my art. And I'd like to think that this isn't just a fucking hobby. This is something I put my heart and soul and time and labor into. And... that's just... not worth compensating? Not worth supporting? Instead, I need to change my entire way of living, log in X amount of hours per week at literally any location that isn't my own work, cash my paycheck and use that check to pay my rent. And in my free time, I can work on my real work. Whatever free time I get. And the 15 years I spent dedicating myself to my craft? So I can go apply for jobs with a resume that has been blank for a decade. So I can tell them I have been in therapy for 6+ years because of crippling PTSD, and probably other shit. And they're totally gonna hire me. Trust me, they'll hire me just like the last 5 places I applied to and never heard back from. And if I do get hired, totally gonna move my life forward. Because there I will make money. And money gets my parents' influence and harmful pressures away from me. And then I'll meet people. And those people... well, they're magical, you see! They, somehow which has not been articulated whatsoever, are going to make my art/music/writing/entertainment/tutoring/whatever career blow up! They will! How? Fuck if anyone knows! But it is always said with absolute certainty.

So... the plan is... ditch the rental car. Take the bus 2.5 hours back home with my skateboard and hawk feathers and whatever else I can carry from my old car. Sell the old car for scrap, basically. Be a public transit guy now, I guess. Which, I mean.. if you were raised in a city, you probably hate the way I'm talking, but... I grew up in a different environment. And I've seen how you city folk react when you're stuck in the middle of nowhere and you have to drive 20 minutes just to get to the nearest gas station, and you hear coyotes 20 feet away and lose your shit. So... nature doesn't scare me that way quite so much anymore. But public transit sure as fuck does. I trust those coyotes way the fuck more than I trust some of the people I see lurking around bus stops. I'm sure I'll get used to it in time, again, changing the way I live... But, I'm not excited.

Then I'm going to get literally any job. Any one, doesn't matter. Ideally a gaming shop, a new age shop or an antique shop. Again, these are not bad jobs, I am not upset about that. I am pissed that I am being socially pressured to change my life goals rather than being supported in my own goals. These are not impossible goals, by any means. They are merely difficult and... unique. Different. I have no idea how people can come up to me and say "I'd be glad to support you in achieving your goals, sure! First order of business, let's change those goals, shall we?" Fuck you.

Then, at this new job where I will spend most of my time, assuming someone takes the gamble of hiring me with zero references and no work history for a decade... when I'm a complete stranger... What I'm told will happen is that these people, my new friends, will be different from all the others. They will support the projects that I quit working on for this job. They will provide me clients and social outlets to promote my work, so that I can get commissions that I will, with near-absolute certainty, will not have the time to work on.

And hey, it might actually work. I'm not shitting on this completely, the bones of the plan are sound, yes. But like... if I'm just going there to get a paycheck? I'm taking a job from someone who actually wants that job, who is actually passionate about it. If I'm there to just make social connections? Why the fuck am I not just going and hanging out there? Like... going and shopping frequently at that location. Like... a rock shop, let's say. Say I go there regularly to get stone beads or tumbled stones for necklace centerpieces or something. And I ask a bunch of questions, and I become a regular and I get to know people, and they see my jewelry and my custom clothing. In time, after I become a regular, we get to know each other. And then I get the same connections, the same assistance, but they don't have to worry about giving me a bunch of contracts for my other job, which takes my time away from their shop, and then inevitably lose me as an employee when I get enough traction to sustain myself. Or... is the assumption that I will never actually succeed? Hmm...

Okay... it's probably about time I explain myself. 4:40 AM, what better time to explain how I got here. My mom called me as I was standing in my bathroom in my underwear, just hopping out of the shower. I finished up as I was on the phone. I caught her up on the frustrations with the bead last night. I didn't disclose that it was for her. Didn't want her to feel guilty or something. It was a good learning experience, and I am genuinely grateful for it. The conversation quickly went to my car. And... I had my therapy appointment in an hour.

The conversation took a dramatic turn immediately. There was nearly zero progress made. I was desperately, the entire time, trying to get my mom to just... think about more than just her fucking money. Think about how this is affecting my life, how I'm going to be living my life, how all of this is going to be experienced through my eyes. Think about how silly it is for me to go shopping for a car when I have no money, no budget, and any option I bring back to my mother for approval will inevitably get shot down. I have already put out two ideas, the only two that have been on the table - to buy or lease the rental outright, or to get a Jeep, because an older Jeep could be cool, but honestly I'd prefer a more environmentally friendly car if I'm going to actually buy a fucking car. She just... couldn't understand, and was treating me like... I have no idea. I honestly have no idea. Like I wasn't grateful? Like I was spoiled? Or something? I've just been getting heavy vibes of that tonight. Ever since the sun went down. I'm spoiled for pursuing an art career, I'm spoiled for having controlling parents use money to like... punish me or something... I honestly don't even know what it is, it sure as fuck isn't support, it's barely even tolerance. They seem genuinely upset that I'm still pursuing this career and that I'm not fucking rich. They, for some fucking reason, thought that a man in his mid-30's who has been pursuing a full-time fine art career while singlehandedly managing his mental health, with no friends, no supporters and minimal family involvement, would somehow have a self-supporting stream of income just like... magically. Like on one of my hikes in the woods, I would run into a mystical gnome who would ask me three questions about obscure occult spiritual lore, and my genius ass has been studying, right? And I ace that little dude's test, and he deems me worthy of the Forest's Blessing and donates a gigantic tax-free deposit into my bank account or something.

Honestly, that little fantasy scene right there sounds way more likely to happen than me getting like... a net-total $2k a month on Patreon from other humans who just genuinely enjoy watching and supporting the work that I do.

Maybe now is my Dharma Bums moment. Maybe it's my time to take that job in a firewatch cabin in a national park and work on my shit there, just making enough money to keep doing what I do that way. For fuck's sake, why is no one brainstorming ideas like this with me? Why the fuck do I not get a fun life? Because others didn't get a fun life too?

YOU KNOW WHAT. If any of the people who have given me this advice came up to me and said "hey ____, I gave up on making art when I was younger. I was afraid I wasn't good enough. I was afraid if I made it a successful full-time career that it would kill the thrill of it. That it would ruin it. And when I gave up on it, it never really came with me. I'd like to reconnect with it, but I have a very difficult relationship with it now. Could you help me reconnect with it?" I would devote my entire self to helping them. Every tool I have, every tool I can Google, would be at their disposal.

But me? I get told "hey, you need to get some form of income so you can get away from your family, because this is literally killing you." And I know they're right. I know, at surface level, they're right. And I don't contest that, that's not the part of it I contest. I try so hard to voice it correctly, but I struggle to communicate it. "Yes, I need to be free of this, but I need to find the right thing, something that fits into my comfort level, something I'm passionate about, something right for me." With all the projects I listed earlier, how the fuck is there no overlap? You know what I see happening? The only "Hiring" sign I've seen so far? Michael's. That's what I'm seeing. I'm seeing myself taking the bus to a run down old mall by a major highway, putting on a uniform and stocking shelves and telling septuagenarians where the yarn is. "No, it's all the way in the back, Gladys. No. No in the BACK."

I'm sure I could make it fun. I could. But I feel like I'm giving up control of my life. I feel like I'm giving up, and resigning my agency. Like I'm just shifting that control out of the hands of my family, and into the hands of some corporate entity, or educational institution, or private owner, who I have zero reassurance doesn't also have selfish intentions.

I'm sure I could make it fun, but do I really have to? Is this just... the hand I'm dealt? Am I supposed to just say... yep, I was given red paint and blue paint and green paint, and... I guess I just paint red and blue and green stripes. No mixing? No gradients, even? Like... what's the point of being creative when you just do what everyone around you is telling you to do? What use is a creative brain when you are put in a box and expected to follow instructions with precision and accuracy, deviating from expectations as little as possible. Don't you fucking people think that might be a little.......... stifling? For a creative person? Maybe a little... unnatural? Hmm? Maybe you are all logical, analytic types... who follow linear paths of deduction... and I come in from my barefoot off-trail hike in the woods and go "hey, I invented a new written language today" and you think I'm going to fit in well in... a boilerplate "job". Just... "job".

Alright. See, I unearthed my old rubber wizard mask the other day. That popped right into my head right now. I wore it on stage when I played with my old improv band. We weren't very good, but we loved what we did and we had fun with it. And I'm thinking... "alright, time to get the old masks out." "Time to practice pretending to be a person again." This time, it's not just half an hour to an hour while shopping or going to an appointment. Now, it's being contractually obliged to a specific location and role for x hours per day, at risk of being fired. Forgive my alien descriptors, I haven't done this form of labor in a decade, it's been exclusively freeform and self-reliant; self-accountable. I hope my mask still fits. And I hope it's a healthy time for me to be acting for hours at a time with no real coping mechanisms short of breathing exercises.

So yeah, conversation with my mom went absolutely shitty and really painful, hurtful. Degrading. Brought out a lot of bad shit. And made me late for my therapy appointment, and I'm never late for therapy. Ever. And then in the appointment, we talked about getting me some form of substantial income to get me free of this. He visually saw how absolutely ravaged I was by that experience and insisted I need to do something about this now. I think he said "I feel like I can't just sit here and watch them do this to you." Or something close to that. He seemed concerned enough to venture into the work realm, knowing how sensitive it is for me. Clearly, look at this tirade, good lord... XD

He reassured me that the busses are not bad, and he has friends who use them. I'm just not really used to the idea of them, honestly, it's foreign to me. We briefly talked about disability, because that was on the table with my last therapist, but I mentioned that that kinda fucked with my head a bit, my self-esteem and guilt, and I was worried about it causing more damage than good. Even though I'm pretty clearly stuck. And we got into this realm of painting options that was like... A) go on disability and... keep making art, but risk complicating my mental health issues. B) keep parental "support" and continue to be manipulated and pressured, having to run every decision I make past my parents and having brutal hours-long fights multiple times a week. C) Find some place to work out in the real world, out there, the place I struggle to get myself to go for fun.

So you tell me. If you were awake at 5:30 AM, still grieving, processing being essentially trapped in an area where you know no one, feeling insanely unsafe due to multiple PTSD triggers being fully primed, activated and firing on all cylinders, with tons of empirical evidence that these threats are very real fueling that brutal machine... would you think going to a fucking job interview with an empty resume and no references is going to go well? Would you be looking forward to that? Would you maybe, just maybe... want to... improve those odds a bit? Instead of just going "Hi, I'm really nice and smart and hard working. Please take my word for it. I know all my clothes are over 10 years old and I look like I haven't slept in a month (because I basically haven't) and my left eye keeps twitching from stress and I have some weird fucking bacterial infection that looks like acne all over my scalp... aka I know I look homeless and I have no work history or references, but like... trust me!" No fucking pressure. No reason to be anxious. No reason to feel like literally my entire life is riding on it, and the other side is like... more brutal fights... more pressuring me into living a different life... more making me feel like shit for being myself, having the interests and passions and skills and opinions that I do. Good lord, okay. Which is worse?!

So... I spent the rest of the night curled up in a ball under a blanket until I wrote this. I called my mom back 3 times and was ghosted. I texted, she left it read. Texted more later, just to get more out. But I have a feeling this is just... it's gone. It's too far gone. And I can't just sit here and watch the months and years peel away waiting for someone else to get over their shit. I had an intense realization the other day. My lease started on November 15th. I'm 1/4 of the way through my lease. And my shit is still in boxes. And I'm still driving a rental car.

Waiting does not fix these problems. If there's anything I know with certainty, it's that my priorities, my urgent issues, are not on anyone else's urgent list. So... I really need to stop waiting.

3 days ago, my biggest issue was like... where can I find some affordable furniture that meets my needs? Now, I'm having to reconcile changing the entire direction of my everyday efforts. Changing the framework of my life. Because this fucking car dealership said they could fix my car, and didn't. And they won't recommend someone else. They're just gonna sit here forever, "waiting" for a manufacturer to make parts that they don't make anymore. And they're just going to rent this fucking car to me as long as I'm willing to pay for it. And it's on my card. And because of this conversation, about these slimy motherfuckers squeezing money out of my parents. SOMEHOW. That leads to me needing to abandon my career and go get some job at some random shop so I can escape my parents.

And this is not the first time, not by a long shot. This has happened dozens of times over the past few years.

It makes me wish I had never reconnected. It makes me wish that, instead of reconnecting with my passions of art and music and mythology and spirituality and nature, I had just gotten some random fucking job somewhere and worked triple shifts the whole time. And gotten into crypto or some shit, like my fucking little brother did. Then I'd be fine right now. I'd have a buffer. I'd have no one crawling up my ass. But I'd have no soul.

This is so fucking deeply depressing. And I know I'm exaggerating bits of it, but this is so insanely overwhelming for me, especially since I've been in this extreme isolation for like... since 2018? So like... 4ish years. That's a long time to be away from society. And it's still really weird to be in public, very overwhelming and unnerving. The idea of being required to be in a public space for a specific span of time, with no escape routes, no respite, and no way to like... explain why in a relatable way. "I was in lockdown... for over 3 years. And now I'm working retail. And I haven't been afforded the luxury of an adjustment period." "Life just... didn't really go my way."

Seriously, there's a very strong reflex that kicks in. It doesn't kick in when I think about one-on-one tutoring, or even streaming, or doing dog walking or private dog training, or working at a bird sanctuary or something. Somewhere without a lot of people, so I can adjust. So I can get used to being in proximity to other humans again. It's so odd to me that no one has really considered that this might be like... a big deal for me...

Okay, I think I've sufficiently vented, now that it's 5:45 and I still have to read this back. Sorry if you read this whole thing. Welcome to my shitstorm. Hopefully it has a happy ending. Because I really love the potential of life way too much to give the fuck up.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

[chronomally]

If Rhea is Seiros I'm really gonna

#please feel free to ignore this #I'm playing FE3H #It's gamebro #The way she treats you now is making me nauseous I hate this #It doesn't feel at all like she's looking at Byleth it feels like she only cares about you because she looks at you and sees someone else

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