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irenethewoman · 2 years ago

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Chapter 12 - Troubles

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London in December 1921. Patton Senior. died at the start of December.

I legally inherited 60% of his property prior to his passing. He can only watch annexation and acquisition from his bed. I witnessed my entire life's work being destroyed. Along with all of my nominal relatives, I went to his funeral.

No tears were shed. This ritual resembled the marble coffin he picked out for himself. Although luxurious, it was icy and emotionless. taste. Actually, George and Helen might not have been born if you were a boy. ". William spoke to me in such a calm manner. This is extremely uncommon. I either remember a domineering, haughty, or inebriated William.

Since I was a young child, I've envied you. I wish I was as smart as you, but I'm jealous of how much my father adores you. Despite being much younger than I am, you can do it with ease. The questions my father gave me to answer were simple for me. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to overtake you. I believe. Reply Share Add Follow Report. I begged my father to listen to me, but all he did was compliment you. His treasure is you alone. He was always so distant from me. Face. Even George's father didn't take him very seriously, in case you missed it. ".

So you immerse yourself in a vat of wine and confront your father everywhere. I had to make fun of him. William continued to speak to himself while ignoring my sarcasm, gazing off into the distance. He said, "I was very confused when my father died.

I was at a loss when I suddenly understood that after all these years, all I had done was cause trouble everywhere and make my father ill. Down. ".

"That's not completely accurate. You also have a child who was murdered before he was even born. ". I know, he paused, and he turned to face me. I know. I'm sure you'll never forget that maid. ".

She has a name! Her name is Mary Smith! She was even expecting your child, I sneered, "That maid," I couldn't help but sneer. You killed her, my wife, you beat her to death once more, you raped her, and you don't even remember her name. She was a poor Christian, forced to carry your evil seed, forced to suffer both physical and mental torture. She cannot have an abortion.

"Don't claim that you want to alter your behavior and are sorry for the past. When Mary asked where I was, I pointed to the south. Go talk to her and see if she will forgive you, my sister commanded, as she erected a tomb.

After saying that, I quickly walked away from him. I'm so sick that I actually believe a bastard who has existed for almost 30 years can change his ways! Jenny, have you called?

I had a little lightheadedness from the red wine at the party, so I stumbled and fell on the sofa, kicking one of my shoes off. "No, Madame Baroness. Jenny is a sweet-natured Celtic girl with blue eyes that are round and adorable. very small freckles. I had my other shoe removed by her. "oh……". I am somewhat. No, I'm completely lost.

I've written to Tommy to inform him that I'm now a baroness and that Turner House, 10 King's Road, Chelsea, is now legally my property. private residence. He received my phone number and postal address. I even mentioned Turner to him in the letter.

The Baroness is very well-liked in the social scene of London, and her suitors come and go like crucian carp in a river. All I want is for Thomas Shelby to call me, be envious of me, and use nice words to try to get me to confess my love for him. He didn't, though. ". I became very upset, pouted, and curled up on the couch. Tommy once claimed that I was more addictive to him than opiates, but in actuality, I was the one who was dependent on him. Every night I engaged in conversation and laughter at balls in London, dealt with various wealthy individuals every day, and interacted with a wide range of people.

Suitors. I was disoriented and intoxicated as I walked, and I couldn't stop thinking about him. There were one or two social interactions that were intolerable. I even considered eloping with my possessions back to Birmingham while in court.

But I am unable. I've made the decision to take over as Baron Turner and inherit everything from my father. But I figured I could treat myself to a holiday for Christmas. Just as I had done when I fled London seven years prior, I traversed the streets of Birmingham while toting my compact suitcase. Yet this.

I didn't have Finn to drive me home this time. The London affair was nearly over when I secretly flew back to Birmingham. I want to make Christmas special for my little prince. surprise.

I arrived at the horse racing betting station as snowflakes fell from the sky. Miss, tomorrow is Christmas. I'm planning to arrive early tomorrow to wager on the horse races. We'll end now. "I recognized the voice.

John is here. He grinned with surprise as I glanced up at him. "Diana!". We gave each other hugs. I was working in the kitchen with Polly and the others when Tommy returned home.

"Thomas didn't say it, but my dear, I believe he wanted to see you when he traveled to London so aggressively. " Polly. told me while grinning.

I laughed as I dipped my head. The look on Tommy's face if he realized Polly had exposed him is something I'm really curious to see. I heard John say "Tommy!" and grabbed the salad bowl as I exited the kitchen.

Across the dining table, we were just staring at one another. He took over Kenpo's business successfully and without incident, as he claimed in his letter. This is all. I still find his blue eyes fascinating even though his cheeks have gotten paler over time. I observed as the surprise gradually gave way to tenderness in his eyes. I blush and feel my heart race just from his soft gaze. A look is much better than a thousand words because it is so full of love and meaning.

Arthur popped his head out from behind him, "Tommy, what are you doing here?" He became hesitant when he saw me. "All right Tommy, you have plenty of time to examine Diana in more detail. John pushed Tommy while grinning. As I watched these men fight and push each other like immature children, I grinned. I went backwards and walked. cooking area.

This smell is what home smells like. Tommy moved into a larger home after earning a lot of money. His bedroom also expanded, and the bed did as well. yes. He rolled off of me and fell asleep next to me once the rain stopped and the clouds parted.

I still held him and tried to get into his arms even though the love just now had taken too much of my energy. Tommy exhaled and gave me a tight hug while kissing my skin and face.

Do you intend to leave? "Maybe. After all, the Turner family in Chelsea still has a lot of face. I murmured as I lay in his arms. "I. The brothers have tarnished the sterling reputation of our Turner family, which dates back to George I and has endured for many generations. through misbehavior.

The men in my family can only cause trouble, and then they will—William, who is well-known in London, and George, who isn't even an adult but has an illegitimate son. The mess-making is done by women. ". However, I'll most likely depart at the end of January. I turned my head up and gave him a chin kiss. "You're welcome to visit me anytime in London.

10 King's Road in Chelsea. Little prince, my dear. ". He had a fresh wound on his chest when I rubbed myself in his arms. It appeared to have been shot. I quickly stepped away from his arms out of fear that I would press his wound, and I used my fingers to gently circle the scar. Admire him. It must hurt awfully bad. Why did that happen. Didn't you say you had no skin injuries? ".

What's wrong with the wound on your hand? Tommy asked as he grabbed my hand and kissed it. "I was. "I did the burning myself.

However, I was afraid to say that to him. Even though we are very close, Tommy's expression of rage still makes me very impressed. It's peculiar. It's frightening, and I can't take his "punishment" any longer. After a brief period of silence, I realized that he had changed the topic. The subject should not even be brought up again. "It's a minor injury. A long time ago, everything was fine. I kept it from you. He gestured with his hand up, playing with my hair. "Explain your hands to me. ". "I……".

I was mortified as I looked into his probing eyes. But I was only able to go into great detail about my time in London. Of course, I forgot about the young men who flocked to me day after day.

I grew increasingly uneasy as I watched Tommy's expression of silence; surely he wouldn't get angry again? "I suddenly felt bad for letting you go. He gave me a big bear hug while he sighed. I stood up and kissed Tommy on the mouth, saying, "But I'm back, aren't I?

I gave him a direct look and said, "Tommy, I want you to tell me everything in the future and not keep it from me.". Eyes: "Whether it's accidents or anything else, financial difficulties or domestic problems. You got it all, Tommy.everything. You are always aware of what I can share with you. ". We just exchanged silent looks. Before he slowly nodded.

In Birmingham, I had a wonderful Christmas vacation. Every day, talk about the newest London fashion with Polly and Ismey. The kids talk about interesting things that happened in London before spending the night with my little prince.

"The dictator of Little Hiss and his troubled demon queen. ". I suddenly recalled my old moniker. I tried to speak clearly despite the fact that I was panting and lying beneath Tommy. Chu.

After hearing this, Thomas just chuckled and put more effort into demonstrating his "excessive debauchery.". The Baroness appears to have many suitors. Was it successful in finding the goddess? He was consuming the port wine I had brought back while seated at the other end of the tub.

I leisurely poured myself a glass of wine and asked, "Are you jealous?". "A beautiful, wealthy single woman. If a young woman marries, she will inherit a sizable amount of property and the title of baroness without any elders to make careless comments. this. Such a baroness would not attract any suitors who would be concerned with her virginity. ". I put down the wine glass in my hand and sat in the bathtub, asking, "So, is Mr. Shelby also interested in this Baroness?".

She shifted slightly in front of him before leaning forward and placing her hand on the inside of his thigh, just beneath the foam. His knees were nearly in contact with my breasts. I observed his Adam's apple rolling with pleasure.

"Per your request, my dear. Baroness. ".

I had to return to London once the holidays were over.

Cold, lonesome, and empty. After a brief trip back to Birmingham, I found 10 King Street to be progressively more intolerable. Home. There are still a lot of servants here, and occasionally young talents from London come to see me. However, in my opinion, it is still fair. Family honor has trapped me like a cold cage.

I didn't feel alive again until I occasionally traveled to Birmingham, and only then did I experience true emotion. only.

At that point, I no longer felt like a lifeless prisoner of familial honor, but rather like a living being. doll for a puppet.

It's possible that people were offended by the way I treated the young men, which led to the spread of unfavorable rumors about me. smell.

Some claim that my health is the reason why my suitors are so eager, while others assert that I did certain things during the five years I spent living away from London.

I once worked as a prostitute, and some claim that I frequently skip dances because I have business meetings with my financial backers; they fear that I will one day take over that profession from them. They believe that I paid for it with my body because of the financial sponsor.

Some insiders claim that I left London to meet my lover, a black man, and that they obtained this information from unidentified sources. Help the boss out.

To be completely honest, I was quite intrigued when I first heard those ridiculous rumors, just like when I heard a stranger's joke. Thus, urban legends are still used in London. But because I knew they were getting closer to reality, I finally became irate. How would you rate my little prince?

I asked Attorney Collins, my head spinning, "Can I sue them?". It is theoretically feasible, Madam Baroness. But these rumors are so pervasive that you can't even, he scowled in shame.

I have no idea where they came from. Furthermore, you cannot begin it one at a time once it has been spread by too many people. sue. ".

Such a mess. I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and made an effort to restrain my rage. The same issue affects men who can have affairs with women of all social classes and even have children out of wedlock before getting hitched. Just a few jokes, really. However, because my lover is a Birmingham commoner, I, Baroness Turner, will be raped. to which.

I just did the same thing as those men, not even as extreme as them, but I was the subject of unending rumors. Slandered.

"Whore. heh. ". I believe I know who is responsible. At a ball held at Buckingham Palace, I first met my sister, Helen Burgess.

I had just said hello to Mr. Dot Churchill and had the first dance before that. He told me that my brother's passing had caused him grief.

I apologize, and congrats on acquiring the title successfully. I went to my sister's spot on the corner after the dance and sat down. Indeed, I overheard some people saying on the way. Mr. Churchill and I were involved in an affair.

I was a flower girl at Mr. Churchill's wedding; they are such creative people. Nevertheless, these politicians have morals.

Very flexible, but there is no real reason for someone to have sex with the young daughter of his former colleague, just like he did with his own daughter when she was a child. a young female.

"Your husband must have worked very hard to gain entry. Using your maiden name would have made it simple to invite you. Do enter. "I drank some champagne.

He is my husband. I looked in Helen's direction as she stubbornly raised her head. The congressman Burgess is collaborating. The wife of the Lord of the Admiralty flirted with, more accurately. flattered.

a man who utilizes his lover as a means of power. In fact, Councilor Burgess visited me after I was made a baroness. I don't even know who gave him this assurance. Face, we didn't get along during the inheritance argument just now. You are free to approach me as an equal after you lose. I offered to support his career and be his lover. I sipped more champagne and remained silent, only turning to look at Senator Burgess. I will only bargain with those who can speak to me in order to capture the thief and the king. There's no need for me to intervene, though, because he provoked Mr. Churchill. Ordinary scandals are just something to talk about after dinner. Men won't give them a second thought, and they'll even use them as medals to show it.

I have endless charm. But when these have an impact on their lives and careers, they will abruptly abandon them. The rumors' development has simply been sped up by me. Indeed, Mr. Churchill couldn't stay still and stood up to correct those false facts.

words. Additionally, society also ignored those foolish, chatty women who fell for Senator Burgess' charms.

I at last experienced my usual peace and quiet after the London social season ended. even though I've handled these storms well. I spent the night returning to Birmingham because I was still feeling very upset.

Tommy was headed to London to meet me because he had heard the rumors. He once more set the bag down in his hand when he saw me approaching the door. plum.

"Tommy. why not wed me right away. ". I feel extremely resentful and resentful when I consider those "whispering words" that nearly punctured my spine. if it was. Birmingham, if anyone had dared to do this to me, I would have shot them all. "Dani, you are the Baroness," Tommy said while wiping away my tears and kissing my lips. ".

"I don't give a damn! I don't give a damn! Tommy, I just want you. ". I felt more wronged the more I sobbed, and the more I sobbed, the more I wanted to cry. I behaved childishly as I lay in Tommy's arms and resisted getting up.

Until I eventually stopped crying, he quietly hugged me. "Dani, I can't let the last two years' worth of your labor go to waste. Turner, not Diana, is who you are now. ". Lord. ".

"I regret it, Tommy. I regret it. ". Tommy and I would have wed, had kids, and I would have been well-known if I had still been Diana Turner. Sincere Shelby, please. However, I can now have sex with various men before getting married because I am Baroness Turner. Love, but I couldn't date a Birmingham gangster. "Honey, you were acting irate. Tommy gave me a kiss. Of course, I still recall why I chose to make the effort to become a baroness and why I initially decided to return to London. A London baroness wife will play a role when Tommy starts to expand to London, which is a more crucial factor.

In terms of both financial and political support, it is very important. I wish I could do more for my partner. I want to be more than just his quiet hometown; I want to walk alongside him.

Thomas managed to calm me down, but I was still reluctant to leave. Though old grudges make me, I still recall my duties. had no choice but to flee for a while. He was powerless to stop me, and so he agreed to let me keep doing what I was doing before. "Tommy, you're rich now, and a baroness works for you as your secretary. ", said Arthur. An infectious disease claimed the life of Ada's husband, Freddie Thorne.

Thomas, who was once friends with Thorne, spoke at his funeral as promised and was sincere afterwards. Ada was invited to bring Carl and live with him at his house. Ada was unconcerned. Since she was no longer Shelby or Thorne, she claimed to be free. I was compelled to give her a bear hug after recognizing the tremor in her voice.

Ada and Thorne got married out of love, but they were divorced for a long time because of unimportant issues and conflicts. The sporadic running-in nevertheless transformed the vivacious young woman into a frazzled single mother. She was angry, but I could tell she was feeling relieved.

I want Ada to know that even though she hasn't forgiven Tommy yet, we will always be related. The seven-year itch, that is. As I turned to look at Thomas after watching Ada walk away, I muttered, ". "us. Should this occur again in the future? As soon as we were combined with honey, we did not think twice about leaving our family; today, we are disgusted with one another and feel relieved.

Tommy gave me a puzzled look as if he were attempting to understand what was going through my mind. There's no need for you to fret all the time. Tommy gave me an irritated glare. "It's something you want, isn't it? I'll return to London the following day. I tried to change the subject while lowering my head to avoid his stare. "Um. ". "Give me Ada's address, and I'll look after her in London," he said. ". "Um. ". ". ". ". ". ". Tommy, I adore you. ". "……Um. ". Once more, he grinned. It's like a young child who needs to be encouraged when he's upset!

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic

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minealon-e · 4 months ago

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"We don't decide our futures. We decide our actions, and our actions decide our futures."

For the longest time, on and off, I'd been toying with the idea of writing again, but every time I try to pick up a pen or a notebook, my thoughts turn into eels and they slip away. Since then, I had just about completely abandoned the idea of writing anymore, because, well... What do I write about?

I'm too lazy. I've no time. Oh, too many things to do. Can't catch a break.

And on the 6th of March, I got into my first accident.

For almost an entire month, I spent most of my time at home, very nearly unable to walk without support, guidance, or a walking aid. For the first time in my life I experienced a small taste of living with a handicap; a physical disability. I say small, because thankfully, my injury wasn't severe to a point where I could barely function independently.

And everything changed.

I've been living with my partner of close to 6 months, and he has been the main pillar of support for me. Without fail, he doted on me, took care of my every need, comforted me, and needless to say—went above and beyond to love and care for me. It surprised me endlessly. Not that I doubted it before, but I was never the recipient of such a tender and intense love; never one so passionate and unconditional. A love so quiet it spoke volumes.

I have always prided myself on my fierce independence, as most people will attest to, and for the first time in my life, having that stripped from me; my capabilities and the like, was something I never imagined happening. It humbled me, deeply. And for awhile, I think I understood what it was like to allow myself to depend on another so strongly, and to resist the urge to fight being taken care of. He has been nothing but a wonderful partner, and I am incredibly lucky to be the recipient of such a genuine love.

Back to writing. I'll get to the point. While I acknowledge my own efforts, I would like to take this opportunity to mention an ex-classmate and a good friend of mine, Sarah, whom I will share this post with. I might have never said it outrightly, but you inspire me. I have always admired how strong, resilient, and capable you are. Your confidence is quiet, non-condescending, genuine... And those are some of the traits I fondly remember you by, as you cross my mind from time to time. You are the reason I decided to start writing again, especially after reading your article about the Paradox of Connection. It got me thinking—was I facing the same dead end, because I had always imagined an audience to write for? Where is this need for external validation coming from?

In the time that I've been at home recovering from my injury, I've had a little (and extremely precious) time to get to know myself a little better. It's been awhile since I truly spent time with myself, and I've picked up a new hobby—cooking (although I'm not very good at it, I do enjoy the process) and being a plant mum. I find immense satisfaction in whipping up a simple homecooked meal for my partner and myself (even though I feel strangely domesticated).

I like it. I like this life. As I look around at my new apartment with the sun streaming in and casting a warm glow on my bay window, I'm filled with an immense sense of peace and gratitude, which, admittedly, I'd forgotten how feel, to certain people around me, one of which is my partner. I'd lost touch with others, the world; the sense of disconnection seemed to be intensifying daily, and for awhile I couldn't seem to make sense of it.

Dr. William Glasser's book, Counselling with Choice Theory, has also been extremely insightful for me during this period of recovery, and I am committed to satisfying my inner needs and falling back in love with life.

And I now realise, it truly starts with the self.

Thank you, Sarah.

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solrisa · 4 months ago

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"We don't decide our futures. We decide our actions, and our actions decide our futures."

I'm too lazy. I've no time. Oh, too many things to do. Can't catch a break.

And on the 6th of March, I got into my first accident.

And everything changed.

And I now realise, it truly starts with the self.

Thank you, Sarah.

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anemia-rp · 9 months ago

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A female friend showed me some of her books and I thought they're horror books 'cause they have titles like 'God of Malice' but I got educated that they're actually about the villain getting the girl. Most of them have heavy trigger warnings, too. Romanticized stockholm syndrome. Assault. Necrophilia. Cannibalism. You could think those are the fantasies of some pervert man, but those books are written by women for women.

So that's what women these days are into?

(OOC: I don't read books like that myself, it's too seldom that I like sex scenes written by someone else I just read the reviews and am somehow fascinated. Sometimes I like and need it to get shown that art in fact doesn't know any boundaries and everything is allowed as long as you don't hurt others. It's inspiring as fuck. My fanfic site would hate me for stories like that though. And I'm relatively unable to write something that drastic with someone else because I get a bad conscience quickly. Unless I get along with the person very well, I love how they write, I love their muse(s) and the chemistry between the characters is huge [at best it feels if me and the other person share one braincell]. [I once wrote the abusive mentor for a muse I loved dearly, it was one of the best experiences because I got cheered on regularly by the mun for it who loved this character a lot, I remember sitting there and marvelling about what manipulation tactics I actually know xD In the end it's been just fair, they wrote me a dominant muse for a long time and I encouraged them a lot to fully lash out, too, and I had the fun of my life for months, if not even years.] Exploring the psychological aspects of such a 'sick' character can be a lot of fun.

Anyway, I'm not sure if I'd like a story like that, it would probably depend, but I admire those authors for their sick mind and their bravery to write something like that. High respect. And if I dare to say so, the most extreme and violent books I've read had mostly been from women [okay, except for Extinction for example, this book messed with all my emotions and there had been scenes where I've been close to puking, what makes a great book for me because I want to feel].)

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auroraboringaliceinwonderland · 4 months ago

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@awepeeling okay so I was not expecting someone to be so interested and I honestly didn’t know how to reply at first because this isn’t something I’m actually planning on writing. But then I got thinking and now… well, this is a bit of a ramble that’s too big to fit into a few comments so… reblog! Lol

First off, this entire AU is assuming that Merlin is representative of Christine (he is for all the versions I’ve thought of frankly).

They have a few shared traits such as Merlin being the main guy; Christine being the main gal; they’re both traumatized; etc etc.

But one of the things that make that fit so well is honestly the other characters around them.

I’m not as well versed in Poto because it’s been a while since I’ve actually seen it and not just worked on my own version of it, but from what I can remember a lot of the characters around Christine kind of tell her what to think and stuff.

Erik is telling her to trust him and sing for him and love him and be everything that society was not for him; Raoul is telling her to do the opposite and be with him instead; Meg is telling her she’s crazy for thinking the angel of music is real; etc.

Likewise, the same is for Merlin. In the show itself, he has literally said the following:

“Do you think I sit around doing nothing? I haven't had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot, I'm too busy running around after Arthur, 'Do this, Merlin!' 'Do that, Merlin!', and when I'm not running around after Arthur, I'm doing chores for you, and when I'm not doing that I'm fulfilling my 'destiny' do you know how many times I've saved Arthur's life? I've lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I have fought griffins, witches, uh, bandits. I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am because if anyone finds out, Uther will have me executed. Sometimes I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions I don't know which way to turn!”

I feel like those two things go hand-in-hand very well; everyone telling you what to think; everyone telling you what to do; unable to get a word in about what you want; or what you need to do; or even who you are.

That said, different characters being representative of the Phantom makes for different stories.

For Freya it’s a love story about freedom.

With Edwin it’s a story about the lessons we’re taught, how to use them, and getting away from abuse.

And with Kilgharrah, it’s frankly a story of manipulation.

He and Erik actually have a lot of common traits. For one, society has betrayed them. Another, they have been in their loneliness for so long that they’re not exactly right in the head and therefore have strict views about certain things. They’re entitled. Cruel. They both live in a cave sewer like place of sorts. And they both have some good ol’ maniacal laughter at times of course.

And there’s the manipulation.

Erik manipulated Christine continuously in Poto; he is the angel of music, her tutor, her father’s ghost, someone she needs, someone she wants. “Trust me,” he sang to her in Music of the Night. “I am your angel of music,” he’d told her repeatedly throughout multiple songs. “Too long you’ve wandered in winter, far from my fathering gaze,” he told her, pretending to be someone he wasn’t in Wandering Child. “No use resisting. Abandon thought and let the dream descend,” he’d said in Point of No Return. And the obvious one - “The phantom of the opera is there inside your mind.”

Sure, some of those are give or take with different meanings and even lyric changes and depend on the version and your interpretation and all these other things, but the point was that he was trying to manipulate Christine into singing for him; into loving him; into not abandoning him like everyone else had; into every other little thing.

Similarly, Kilgharrah with Merlin constantly tells him what to do and believe. He is the one who’d started the whole “you are Arthur’s Destiny thing,” telling him about the legends which he suspiciously knows so much about. And then he went on to tell him not to help Morgana, let Mordred die, don’t trust that person, only ask me for help, I’ll help you but only if you do these things for me and promise me this and that and do this but you can’t betray me because that’s betraying even yourself because we are kin.

That way the destiny turned out as it should - so the legends could come true; so the story could go the one way it was supposed to with Arthur dead in the end and Merlin a broken shell and Gwen on the throne so she could be the one to unite Albion because who else is gonna do it with Arthur gone??

That way Erik’s music was sung by the right person, that way he could get everything he wanted, that way he was loved. That way everything turned out how he wanted and he had planned and he had manipulated into becoming and what it was supposed- to be!

Point is, they’re both trying to direct the stories into going how they want it to go and how they think it’s supposed to go; even if that’s not actually the case.

MANIPULATION!!

Idk if this is the ramble you thought I’d give you but here it is lol

I didn’t even mention the stuff about how the stories wouldn’t be able to be exact at all because different time periods, different characters with different personalities, different universes via magic and non-magic; and not every character would even have someone to represent from Poto. So this is the short version of the rant lol

🎶 The greeeeeeeeeat- Dra-gon is therrrrrrrrrre; insiiiiide your miiiiiiiiind 🎶

Okay I’ve spoken before about how the Phantom character for a Merlin/Poto crossover (as in Merlin characters with a similar plotline to Poto) could be assumed to be Edwin Muirden because he’s got scars and he wanted to tutor Merlin in magic (like how Eric has scars (depending on the version technically) and tutored Christine), however Freya fit the role much better.

(Never explained more I don’t think, but she’s been outcast from society, is a murderer, dubbed a monster, hides in a sewer (?) place, etc. She and Eric are obviously very different characters in terms of personality and the like, but otherwise there are a lot of similarities going on).

BUT!! I’ve done myself one better.

Kilgharrah…

That brat.

The manipulator.

He’s totally— he’d be the Phantom character.

#as I was writing this a Poto song randomly came up in my shuffled playlist which I find ironic lol #but I listen to it all the time so I can’t say I’m too surprised

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breadqueen95 · 3 years ago

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hi i love your eren insomniac au so much 😭💛 may i request for a modern au eren x reader (fem/gn) - where eren stands up for the reader from being disrespected by toxic parents? more of like a comfort hc? don’t worry if you are unable to, thank you so much for reading this & putting in so much effort to ur writing <3 have a great day lovely !!

oh my gosh thank you!!!! it's one of my favorite hcs i've written so I'm so happy you like it too! and thank you the most for being here and saying such kind things, it means a lot to me

but FUCK YEAH i can do that for you!!! i'm sorry if this is a situation you have to deal with :( i have my own set of toxic parents so i know how hard it can be. i hope this helps, even just a little <3

kind of turned into a whole ass fic???? i'm so sorry about that lol i hope it's okay!

CW: anxiety, depression, slight ptsd, heavy themes of toxic parental relationships, body issues

modern!Eren Jaeger x fem!Reader

Before

Eren knows about your family. He's known, or at least suspected, from those very first few weeks of getting to know you. He has his own issues with his dad - even though everyone's situation is different, he's come to learn how to recognize those long lasting scars in other people. It hurts him beyond belief that he can see those scars in you, his favorite person.

It was even harder seeing how deep those scars go once you two began your relationship. It took awhile for Eren to help you understand that his love for you wasn't transactional. It wasn't conditional. It didn't depend on the size of clothes you wore, or how many achievements you could tack onto your resume. That you didn't have to walk on eggshells every waking moment just to make sure you didn't misstep. He just loves you. You're still learning that, and trying to show him the very same kind of deep and unyielding love for him.

Even so, Eren has his mom. Carla has been able to show him nothing but pure and unconditional love from before he can remember - a stark contrast from Grisha. He was able to start healing and separating himself from that toxicity from a young age, and hasn't really spoken to him since. Your situation is different - both parents, both different yet similar brands of harshness, both still in contact.

It's complicated. He knows it is. You've even said it yourself.

Doesn't stop him from being so, so gentle with you. From waking up every morning ready to protect you and remind you how much he loves you. It started like that from the very first minute he lay eyes on you, when he knew instantly how much he was going to love you, to now, and every moment to come.

So when your parents kept insisting they had to meet him, Eren tried to convince you that it wasn't that important. That they could try and do this over FaceTime first, test the waters a little bit.

You honestly didn't want to share him with them at all. He's such a sacred part of your life, something so good and pure and wonderful. You're scared that if he sees where you come from, just how bad it can get with them, he'll leave.

You're always terrified that you'll scare him off.

You tell him so one night, as you're wringing your hands together, panicking after yet another passive aggressive text about meeting Eren. It stresses you out more and more every time.

Eren doesn't say anything at first. Just wraps you up in his arms. Pulls you against his warmth. Cradles you against his broad chest, stroking every part of you he can reach with a featherlight touch.

"Baby," he croons, "there's nothing you could show me that could scare me off."

Your stomach swoons every time he calls you that. Can't be helped. He giggles a little at the stutter in your breathing with the pet name, but doesn't poke fun at you just now.

"You're already so goddamn patient with me," you whisper shakily, his name for you unable to sway you from anxiety, "I just don't--"

"I love you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "I will always love you. I just want you to feel safe and happy, and I'll do everything I can to make you feel that way. Got that?"

Despite the tears filling your eyes, you smile bashfully and hide your face in his neck, leaving thankful and affectionate kisses all over his warm skin.

Okay, so maybe you could do this. You have Eren.

During

After much hounding from your parents, you and Eren find yourselves standing outside the door of your parent's house. You've got a plate of brownies in one hand and Eren in the other. He runs his thumb over your knuckles rhythmically in a way that grounds you. In his other hand, he holds a bouquet of flowers for your mom, ever the gentleman. Carla raised him right.

Everyone's all smiles at first. Eren's impressed; he knows how scared you are, how nervous, but you're putting up a good front. But the more he thinks about it, the more your skill at hiding how you're feeling makes him sad. You've clearly had a lot of practice.

Your parents are showing the good parts of them. You've explained to Eren how there are good memories with them; they can be so loving, so kind. And right now, they're welcoming you home and Eren into their lives with open and loving arms. They're asking Eren all kinds of questions about his life and his interests. Asking about your relationship, how you met, things like that.

It starts to fall apart during dinner.

Eren can see that you've gotten a little more comfortable. Your shoulders aren't as tense, breaths coming a little easier. It's easy for him to understand why you're at war with yourself constantly over how you feel about them.

Then somehow everyone ends up on the subject of something you're passionate about. Eren, for one, is thrilled. Watching you talk about the things you love is one of his favorite activities. Your eyes light up in the most breathtaking way, and your smile is downright infectious. He could listen to you for hours.

"Oh boy, here we go," your mom sighs from one end of the table.

Just like that the spell is broken. Eren has a front row seat as he watches your face fall, your voice cutting off into heavy silence. Your brows knit together as you look down at your plate.

"You're obsessing again," your dad adds with a patronizing laugh.

Eren looks up and in between your parents. They laugh, looking at him as though trying to include him in whatever sick joke they think they're making.

He looks back at you. You're masking it for now, but your hands are clenched in the tightest fists he's ever seen under the table. He reaches under the table and takes the hand closest to him, and ever so gently, tries to coax your fingers open. Trying to get you to let him in.

"Sorry," you say with a self-deprecating laugh, "I know I can get carried away."

Eren's heart shatters. He doesn't know how many times you said this, mostly in the beginning of your relationship and in group settings. You're always so convinced that no one wants to hear you talk, so you end up apologizing for it.

Now he sees it. Where it comes from.

Schooling his face into a friendly expression despite his rage, he squeezes your hand, saying, "No, keep going, I love hearing you talk."

"Nah, it's okay," you shrug nonchalantly, before changing the subject.

The way you're squeezing his hand begs him to drop it. So he does.

But then it keeps going.

You reach for a second helping of something, and your mom says, "How are you still hungry?"

You don't end up getting that second helping.

You make a joke about something, wrinkling your nose in that cute little way he loves so much.

"Yeah, don't tell your coworkers that one," your dad adds in.

Eren has to watch your beautiful face fall.

You're talking about how many long hours you've worked recently, how tired you are.

Cutting you off, your mom jumps in about how hard she works. Very much indicating there's no way you can be more tired than her.

Eren sees you breaking under the weight of it all. His sweet, fiery, passionate girl, reduced to whatever palatable version of you your parents find acceptable. They've tried to make poking fun at you a bonding activity ever since he stepped into their home, and despite his stone faced reactions, they just keep going.

He has to get you out of here. His protective instincts are raging at him to just get you out.

But your mom insists on pictures. So you pose together. Full group picture first. Then one of you and Eren. Eren tries to pour every ounce of love he has into the way he holds you, but he can feel you shaking. He wants to scream, but he pastes a smile on his face instead.

Then it happens.

"TTI, sweetie."

What the fuck? What does that mean?

Then, like a soldier responding to a command, he feels you suck in your soft tummy to the point where he wonders if it's painful.

"Sorry, what does that mean?"

Eren tries to ask in what he hopes is a joking manner, but you can hear the barely suppressed anger just underneath.

"Tuck Tummy In," your mom explains with a lighthearted smile, "now smile--"

"Why would you say that to her?"

He doesn't even try to hide his outrage this time. Eren, a normally very expressive person, has spent the entire night burying his need to put the people hurting you in their place. Now he's had it.

"Eren, it's fine--"

"No, it's not," he seethes, curling his fingers around your waist in a vice grip.

Your parents are silent. No one's ever called them out like this before. You've tried to have discussions with them in the past about things like this, approaching it in a very calm, polite manner, but it always ended badly.

"There's nothing she has to fix about herself to look drop dead gorgeous for a picture. Nothing."

"It's just something we say--"

"Not anymore it's not. Not when I'm here."

You're ready for the yelling to start. You flinch, curling yourself closer into Eren's side. A kneejerk reaction cultivated by years of emotionally volatile parenting. Eren tightens his arm around you. He might be ready to go to war on your behalf, but he's gonna make sure you feel safe at the same time.

Your dad steps forward, a self righteous glare on his face as he looks at Eren.

"You don't speak to my wife that way--"

"Oh, you mean the way you've spoken to your daughter the entire night?"

Heavy silence fills the room. Eren worries that he's gone too far, but then he feels you press even closer to him. If you were upset, you'd be putting distance between you two.

Your parents look at you, expecting you to come to their defense, but you don't. You won't.

"He's r-right," you whisper shakily, "I've told you before how the kinds of things you've said tonight make me feel."

Then, like clockwork, your mom gets misty eyed. Your dad gets stern, condescending, and loud.

"I just wanted a nice night."

"Look at how you made your mother feel."

"I guess we're just the worst parents."

"We'll talk about everything soon," you murmur politely, reaching down to lace your fingers together, "but Eren and I are going home now. Thank you for dinner."

As you go to lead Eren out of there, he tugs you to a stop. You turn and look at him quizzically, wondering what else he could possibly say to them (not that you're complaining). He gives you the sweetest of smiles, the one he reserves just for you. It's the one that says, Don't worry baby. I've got you.

"Since we've already gone there, might as well add some things for the record," he says as he turns around to face them, his hand still holding yours.

"Number 1, it's a goddamn privilege to listen to her talk about anything she wants. For as long as she wants. Anyone who's in the room when she decides to share her passion should count themselves lucky."

Tears gather in your eyes. The happiest of tears.

"Number 2, there are days when I barely see her eat a thing. Those are the days she tries to make herself as small as possible, shrink in on herself. Today was a good day. You took that from her and you should be fucking ashamed."

You start to smile, so in love with this man. Even as your dad starts to raise his voice at Eren's cursing.

"Number 3," Eren says assertively, silencing him, "her belly, the one you shame her for, is one of my favorite parts about her."

Your parents are silent. They stare at Eren in shock, not daring to believe someone could call them out on behaviors they've refused to acknowledge for so long.

Eren turns back to you, green eyes shining with love, and says, "Ready to go?"

You nod. He wraps an arm around you to tug you into him, and leads you out of the warzone.

After

When you and Eren first get in the car, doors slamming shut behind you, he's instantly apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, I let my emotions get the best of me. I never should've gone that far--"

You cut his words off by kissing him, trying to pour every bit of gratitude and love into the way your lips move against his.

The kiss ends, but you stay close to him, resting your forehead against his.

"I'm gonna have a hard time tonight," you warn, your entire body trembling with the emotional aftershock of your confrontation. Once the adrenaline wears off it'll be even worse.

"I know," he whispers, kissing your nose lightly, "it's okay. I'd be more worried if it wasn't."

He goes to pull away so he can start the drive home, his protectiveness ever pushing him to get you to a safe place, but you stop him. You place both hands on his face to bring him back to you, kissing him softly again. You open your eyes, meeting the vivid green of his, and you fall even more in love with him.

"Thank you. For keeping me safe."

"I'd do anything for you."

He says it so simply. So factually. He leans forward to kiss you once more, then finally tears makes himself pull away so he can start the car.

As Eren starts the drive down the sleepy residential street, he keeps one hand on your knee, making smoothing circles on your skin. You grab his hand and bring it to your mouth, kissing his loving fingers, before setting it down again.

"I love you so much," you say.

"Love you more," he answers.

*******

And that night is bad.

The hurt sets in and pulls you under. Your self-esteem, already so fragile, seems to break apart from under you. You feel meaningless and empty.

That's what happens when the people who're supposed to love you the most reduce you to a shell of a person. When they work tirelessly to smother every part of what makes you you. When they dampen that fire that keeps you going, gives you purpose.

It's what they've been doing all your life.

But now you have Eren.

The darkness doesn't feel as all encompassing as it has before. He doesn't let you isolate yourself, knowing it's your self-destructive instinct to do so. Eren keeps you close to him, the best comfort there could possibly be.

He gets you out of the clothes you trapped yourself in to impress them, getting you into a hot shower with him so he can wash your hair for you. He holds you close under the hot stream of water, kissing every inch of your skin he can reach.

Afterwards, Eren dresses you in the most comfortable clothes he can think of. The ones he's seen you happiest in. It just so happens to be one of his t-shirts and a clean, comfortable pair of underwear.

Eren doesn't think he's ever seen you more beautiful.

He curls up with you on the couch, turning on your favorite comfort show to try and distract you. He holds you as close as he can, enveloping you in gentle touches and soft words.

You don't have the words to process everything that happens tonight. Eren doesn't expect you to. He just holds you, showing you how much he loves you. How much he values you. How he can't live without you.

As you climb into bed with him that night, Eren sees you poking at your belly, mouth twisting in distaste.

He reads you better than anyone in the world. Even in the darkness of your bedroom, he can feel how unhappy you are. He can practically hear the hurtful words you hurl at yourself in your head.

So he rolls on top of you, settling himself so you're nose to nose. You look up at him with big eyes, and Eren can't help but smile. He leans down and kisses you.

"You're so gorgeous, y'know that?"

You roll your eyes, and you open your mouth, ready to brush off his statement. But he keeps going.

"I'm so serious," he says with a laugh, "I can't even pick which part of you I love the most."

He bends down to kiss you again, his unbound brown strands acting as a curtain for both of you.

"There's this part," he murmurs as he kisses you again.

"Then there's this part," he whispers, bending down farther to kiss your neck. You sigh, reaching up to weave your fingers through his soft hair.

He presses an open mouthed kiss to your collar bone, whispering against your skin. You can't even process what he's saying anymore. The way he kisses you is enough to make every thought leave your brain.

Then somehow he's slithered down to where his face is level with your stomach. You pull it in self-consciously, trying to tug him back up to eye level, but he stubbornly stays right where he is.

"Now right here," he murmurs huskily as he lifts your shirt, "is my absolutely favorite part of you, pretty girl."

Eren's not lying. He's shown how much he loves your tummy before. He wraps his long fingers around your waist on either side, dipping his head to kiss the soft skin he loves so much.

You simply lay back and let him love you, tired of fighting it tonight. You revel in the way he adores you so honestly, so openly, so unconditionally.

Both of you know it'll never be easy, not with your histories. But Eren showed tonight that he's willing to march into battle for you to keep you safe, to prove to you how important you are.

You love him. He loves you. Even when your family makes you doubt your worth, that'll never change.

***

Writing this was like therapy. Hope it was okay <3

Request here

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren headcanons #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #comfort fic #aot headcanons #modern au eren #jenna writes #he's my rotten soldier #my sweet cheese #my good time boy #no but seriously in a modern au he would be so sweet

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frenziedslashers · 3 years ago

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bestie i really wish i was strong and had like the endurance or stamina or whatever to do physical work 😭

instead i sometimes gotta sit down when doing the dishes

and i can't go to the gym cause social anxiety

working out on my own doesn't work cause no discipline

if i have no one to hold me accountable nothing happens 😭

i wanna be cool like you qwq

- 🔪

Awh Knifey, don't think that way about yourself! Just because you have to sit down while doing dishes doesn't mean you aren't strong. Honestly, house chores are very draining for me. I have a habit of overworking myself the moment I step outside in attempts to outwork my brothers(Which I always do because he is very lazy tbh...) I also have this fear at jobs that if I don't work hard enough I'll be fired. So I do my best to work my damned hardest, even if I hurt myself in the process 💀

I have an issue with being unable to do indoor chores due to the fact that I just get bored with them? They're so boring and time consuming, and I always feel more productive with chores that I do outside. I HATE doing the dishes, cooking, cleaning my room, etc. But I always do by the end of the week lmao. I also hate dirty houses so 👹🔪 my brain is whacky.

You're doing great things though! Physical work isn't for everyone. Personally I can't go to gyms either due to social anxiety. Closest to a gym I've been to is when they forced us to do weights class in 9th grade and I out squatted everyone in my class because a guy challenged me 💅💅 I will always accept a challenge fr.

I live out, about 10 miles from town so I just go for runs or bike rides on the paved back roads away from people lmao. The people that pass me on the road are all farmers and ranchers that I know and are like family to me so it doesn't fluster me as much as working out in a gym does. I'm just livin' my best life away from society, because fuck people.

If you DO want to get better as physical labor and shit I suggest a lot of mental love and some small stuff first. When you accomplish ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING, always compiment yourself. Be all "Hey, I did that!" You could have literally swept off the porch or picked up and moved a lawn chair, but praise yourself for it. Remind yourself that what you do is great.

I grew up doing hard yard work, and cutting down trees, and I'm not sure what your home is like, but if you go out and do one thing a day that helps me to. If you're able to! Literally go out and rake a section of your yard, or pull a handful of leaves (Keep hydrated though, I've made the mistake of going outside dehydrated and the sun licherally murders me.)

Also indoor at home exercises are BOMB. I have a small routine I do before bed, and itt wears me out enough that I'm then able to fall asleep faster! 50 Squats, 50 sit-ups, 25 spider-man's, a 30-second plank, and a 30-second wall-sits is what I do anywhere from 1-4 times in a row depending how tired I am. YouTube and TikTok have a lot of simpler and easer exercises to do so you don't overwork yourself when you first start! And if you miss a few days, or even weeks, so be it? It happens, I have self-discipline issues too 😭 I mainly only do them when I remember, feel bad about myself, or I just can't fall asleep.

Yoga is also really good! You can do it while doing other things depending on the pose! I really enjoy it tbh, I should get back into it but I have no time anymore or I forget it exists when I could be doing it lmao. If anything, just drink water, and accomplish small things and remind yourself that you're doing your very best. Remember that your very best will never be the same and everyone elses very best either, because we all have different life styles, body types, and mental types, and hey, that's okay. It's what differs us from everyone else. You're doing great, hon.

I know you didn't ask for advice but I felt like sharing so 👹 take it as you will. AND REMEMBER THAT YOU'RE SUPER SEXY AND AMAZING AND ILY, MUAH

#orian rambles #orians asks #🔪 anon #ily #never feel bad about the things you do #everyone's different and that's okay!#your hard working is different than everyone elses

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ideas-on-paper · 1 year ago

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That's exactly my concern as well. As humans, we have our own definition of sentience, but that doesn't mean this definition has to apply to all sentient life out there. In the end, we have to admit that we're limited to our own perspective - humans are very quick to assume that they are the most highly developed lifeform, but that's just because our state of evolution is the highest we know, and quite possibly, the highest we can comprehend.

Like you said, there are so many creatures we share this planet with that are way more intelligent than we previously thought. If we have no way of knowing what other species are experiencing, how could we judge whether they're sentient or not? If we ever do encounter an alien intelligence, I'm afraid we might look at it, but not actually see it.

Hm, that's some very interesting dialogue… This reminds me that I still haven't seen the Renegade options for most of Legion's dialogues. I always wished there was something like a comprehensive archive of Mass Effect's scripts, but since there isn't, I have to rely on videos if I want to double-check lines. (I think I did every dialogue with Legion you can possibly do, but I couldn't bring myself to pick the Renegade options without hating myself.) However, I might have to check out the alternative options if they contain additional info like this. Anyway, thank you!

I checked the thing about the Collector Base again, and it seems like you're right: According to this Reddit post, the squad mates that argue for keeping it are Garrus, Grunt, Legion, Mordin, and Zaeed, but it depends on your party who gets which comment. If you take both Grunt and Garrus, Grunt gets the line about keeping it while Garrus argues to destroy it; however, if you take Garrus and Tali, Garrus will be in favor of keeping it while Tali tells you to blow it up.

Funnily enough, despite having them with me, Legion didn't even say anything in my playthrough. I had Miranda as a second companion, so I suppose that's because her quarrel with the Illusive Man overrules everything else. I legitimately thought Legion had no comment at all on it, until I saw a clip of it later.

Are there any advanced civilizations in the Milky Way not connected via the mass relay network? I can't remember, but it's not outside the realm of possibility - if there are though, it seems they were unable to make contact with any other species until now. Also, I suppose it would mean a bit of a detour for the Reapers to harvest them (then again, they've made it from dark space to the Milky Way without mass relays, so...).

The Leviathans planning to use the Rachni as soldiers against the Reapers actually seems quite plausible... Still, if the Rachni Wars were supposed to be a test run, that kind of backfired spectacularly.

Btw, I've checked the recording from the Citadel DLC. In this video (at 1:12), it says that the AIs were terminated in 1896 CE, if I heard correctly. That's actually one year after the Geth rebellion. I guess the Codex does say that the Geth War led to the systematic repression of AIs across the whole galaxy, but going by Tali's account in ME1, AIs were already illegal beforehand. Maybe the laws just became stricter after the incident with the Geth?

Going by the Codex entry about Reaper indoctrination, I think it might be specifically tailored to organic brains? So maybe it doesn't work on synthetics? (Honestly, I have no idea.)

I don't know how often I've been mentally begging "please BioWare, can you just explain this?" in regard to Reaper indoctrination/reprogramming. How the Geth that were no longer in broadcasting range immediately lost the Reaper upgrades is also one thing I never understood, especially since Legion still has them after being freed (Idk, maybe that's because they were connected to a Reaper directly?). Like, does the signal going offline just delete the code? Or is it like file sharing, meaning that only the Reapers/Legion possess the necessary files and the others don't?

Considering how often Shepard has been in the presence of Reaper artifacts, they either must have impressive plot armor, or the infamous Indoctrination Theory might be true after all. At the same time, that theory comes with its own set of problems... I don't know if I wanna kick off another huge discussion about the endings here, but the most common interpretation I've seen - that the ending is something like a "metaphor" for Shepard's indoctrination they have to free themselves from by choosing the Destroy ending - kind of ignores the fact that you can't free yourself from indoctrination. We see this with Benezia, Saren, and the Illusive Man, all of whom were indoctrinated, but even if you manage to convince them of this, the only way they can free themselves from it is suicide.

There's also the fact that Vigil explained that the Reapers' absence (so possibly, their death as well) doesn't reverse the effects of indoctrination: The mental decay is permanent, and according to Vigil, the indoctrinated slaves left behind by the Reapers after their harvest didn't even have the capacity to fend for themselves. (I don't know if it's as bad for people who only have been partially indoctrinated, but I'd like to think even their mind probably won't be the same afterwards.) It's not that I think the Indoctrination Theory is entirely implausible - it's just that I've seen a lot of people act like it magically solves everything, which... it doesn't, really.

Yeah, the only way I can see Xen agreeing to war is if she can continue her research in spite of it. I checked again, and she even sends you a message after Tali's loyalty mission where she claims "once my own experiments are complete, you and your people will watch from a distance as the quarian people reclaim not just their homeworld, but the largest synthetic army in the galaxy." (It's at the bottom of the Wiki page about Tali's loyalty mission, if you wanna check it out.) Meanwhile, in Mass Effect 3, I'm just sitting there wondering "well, what happened to that?" It just feels like such a huge set-up in ME2, but ultimately they didn't do anything with it (although I guess it's not the only time this happened, considering the abandoned dark energy plot).

ME1 replay thoughts, wrapping up the Citadel quests:

-The Quarians have uncovered the most mass relays. Logical enough, since they spend all their time in space

-Fist is long gone, but everyone is still talking about him like he's alive. Not sure if that's a bug or an oversight on Bioware's part

-There are a lot of humans in the Wards. I'm going to assume Shepard's in the Citadel equivalent of Chinatown for humans

-There aren't any Turians in the Wards until the Markets. Was that intentional on Bioware's part because of humanity's poor relations with them?

-Conrad's "wife" will love him hanging a picture of femshep in their living room. Uh uh. Sure.

-Starting the Keeper quest by speaking to Jahleed sure leads to different results! Had to fight Chorban. And volunteering to scan the Keepers means I missed out on the paragon points when I returned to Jahleed. :/ Worth seeing once, but not repeating in the future.

-The Keepers and the Citadel are a total blackbox. How did anyone get the idea that inhabiting this place was a good idea, much less making it the center of government? And why don't they at least research it?

-Yep, running all over the Citadel again to scan the Keepers is very aggravating.

-Just how did Septimus learn Xeltan's secrets?

-Turians only wear those hoods in the Wards, not on the Presidium. There are Turians in casual clothes on the Presidium, so I suppose the hoods are just super casual? Like hoodies?

-The Banes person who blackmails Dr. Michel is built up, and then goes absolutely nowhere. Others have said it more eloquently than me, but it is a letdown.

-Shai'ra's words are a bit disappointing to me. Insightful, I suppose, but not so poetic to be beautiful or helpful to be meaningful. I don't mind helping her, but I'm not counting the words as a reward.

-And again once she's done with me and asks me to leave, because she's everything she can for me... I'm just saying, Shepard could probably use a massage. Or someone that isn't a crewmate to talk to. This is what makes me feel used. At least invite me back for tea next time I'm on the Citadel or something.

It's like the consort wants to know everyone except Shepard.

-The Signal Source sidequest is probably the closest Mass Effect comes to foreshadowing the end of ME3, sadly enough. And a large chunk of players probably never started it, and even fewer probably finished it.

-I should have realized Tali would object to possibly resolving matters with the Signal Source peacefully. Of course she would assume it would turn on us. And it insisting that organics must destroy or control synthetics doesn't help.

Still nothing that even hints at Synthesis.

-Interesting. It's possible that Schells was involved in its creation.

The creator originally created a machine to help funnel money from gambling terminals. That machine became an AI, which created the Signal Source, and the original machine was destroyed when the creator realized it was sentient. And who did I just run into that created a device for winning at Quasar in Flux?

However, the Signal Source says the creator is currently serving time in a Turian prison, so Schells probably isn't the creator. They may or may not know each other. Or the Signal Source could have been lying about the creator, the Turian Prison, or both.

-Running all over the Citadel to check each shop is so tedious. Money will become meaningless soon enough, but right now I have very little. At least I picked up a half decent armor for Tali.

#mass effect #geth #mass effect legion #mass effect reapers #quarians

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roselen-mylady · 5 years ago

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In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part seven

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occured she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

The diner was quiet, despite the time of day. Light chatter echoed around them but Y/n could hardly notice, her gaze and attention all focused on the large, green man before her.

Bruce Banner was another idol of hers. He was one of the only brains to compete with hers, aside from Tony Stark, and she admired his work. It was his work after all that had attracted her full attention in that diner.

The once timid looking man who stood small and nervous during lectures now sat confident and relaxed upon his chair, shoveling the biggest portions of food she had ever seen into his mouth.

When Steve and Nat mentioned a genius her mind had immediately come to the much more civilized Hulk, but he wasn't their first stop. No, when they pulled up at a small cabin outside of the city, she was confused.

It was secluded so it was easy to convince herself that they had arrived at Bruce Banner's home but that idea was thrown out the window when a familiar figure stepped away from the small tent out front. She recognized him in an instant and sunk back into herself once realization struck that she was at Tony Stark's home.

"Who's the new girl?" He asked, curiously sending a glance Y/n's way as he adjusted his hold on the girl in his arms.

"Dr. Y/n L/n. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark." Her voice cracked slightly but he didn't seem to mind as he reached out for Y/n's hand, shifting the small girl to his hip.

"Iron Man fan?" He questioned, his grip on her hand soothing in a way. Y/n offered a short shrug, sending a warm look to the girl Y/n assumed was his daughter.

"More of a 'Tony Stark the philanthropist' fan." A shy smile caked her face and Tony found himself returning it. It was new to him, the way someone admired his true persona rather than the superhero he had made himself to be. It was a welcomed feeling.

"Well, Doc, since I've got you here-there's this pain in my neck." Tony slipped his hand from her own, moving to rub a spot on his neck. His daughter let her fingers entwine with his own as he did so and the heartwarming smile he gave her reminded Y/n very much of her own father.

It seemed forever ago since she last saw his proud grin and she allowed herself to wonder what he would think of her life. What would her mother think? Would they be proud? Or would they share the same disappointment she now felt in herself for lying and cowering for so many years?

"I'd recommend a chiropractor, I'm afraid I'm a PhD type of doctor." Her tone was strained, Steve being the only one to notice it. He knew she was thinking of her past. It was a look he had seen on too many people. A look of loss. He just wished she'd finally let down her walls.

"I feel like I know you."

Tony's statement sent a chill down her spine but she did her best to ignore the feeling, allowing yet another smile to grace her lips.

"I wish." Y/n gave a short giggle, forcing away any suspicion Tony might've had. His eyes lingered on her for a moment but ultimately turned away, carrying on with their reason for visiting.

Despite their pleas, Tony rejected their idea not that they could blame him. And while Y/n would've loved to work with him, she had just been ecstatic to meet the famous Tony Stark she looked up to all her life.

He was the reason she took such an interest in science and technology. She was once trained to be the next Tony Stark after all. It was interesting seeing how different their lives had ended up, Tony choosing a life away from people while she chose to help them. She still admired him and she absolutely fell in love with his daughter, Morgan, an innocent replica of her father.

There had once been a time when she imagined her and her soulmate having the stereotypical suburban life; married with kids. However when the snap occured, any hope of that life died with her soulmate.

Yet this didn't stop her from pondering an alternative. She wondered if she and her soulmate did have a life together, what it would be like? What would he be like? Was he funny? Was he kind? Was he charming? Were his eyes really blue?

"About what we were saying…" Steve said, capturing their attention once more. Scott wore a baffled and angry look after the whole picture interaction and Y/n couldn't help but be amused as he sat next to her with a pout.

"Right. The whole time travel do-over? Guys, it's outside my area of expertise." Bruce explained. Y/n's heart sank and she sighed, her eyes subconsciously searching for Steve's. His eyes were still hopeful and he turned away from her trying to convince Bruce to help.

"Y/n said she could get it started. Couldn't that help?" He questioned, almost desperate as Y/n shared a look with Bruce. She could tell he wanted to help just as much as the next guy but their entire plan rested on something that came straight out of a movie.

"Steve, leading an experiment like this would be impossible if I don't even know where to start." Bruce tried to explain gently. Nat stared at Bruce, her expression unconvinced and even a little encouraging as a soft smirk twisted on her lips.

"Well, you pulled this off. I remember a time when that seemed pretty impossible, too." She replied. Bruce fell silent, looking down at himself as he contemplated the decision. It would be risky but they didn't really have much else to lose, right?

•••

Bruce had come back with them to the compound and after explaining the strategy she'd come up with, Y/n set off to find Steve.

He'd been quiet since she'd asked him the truth about Bucky. She regretted it, having pushed him so far. But she was also kind of relieved.

Finally she understood how her life had fallen apart. Understood why the man she feared had done what he did.

She even understood why his eyes had looked the way they did that day. The pain and suffering within them made sense and the eyes that accompanied her nightmares only filled her with heartache.

Would the guilt ever fade? Or would she just continue to find more things to feel guilt for?

After a bit of searching, she found Steve in his room, leaning against the headrest of his bed. The room was neat and if it hadn't been for the few personal effects on the dresser she would've argued it wasn't lived in. In a way that was true since a majority of his nights were spent at her apartment whether it be movie nights, game nights or simply nights spent together doing their own things.

Steve looked up from his sketchbook when she softly knocked on the door frame, leaning on it as he set down the book.

"Come in." She wordlessly padded over, climbing up to sit next to him. Their shoulders brushed and the calming effect that came with her presence uplifted his spirits causing him to look over at her with a tender smile.

"Let me guess. You wanna know what's wrong." He acknowledged. Y/n studied his thoughtful eyes, shaking her head with a brief exhale as she turned away.

"You have a way of staring into someone's soul. Did that come with the serum or has it always been like that?" She asked him, her tone teasing yet a little genuine. He shrugged letting out a small laugh.

The sound out her at ease, telling Y/n that he wasn't angry. At least not at her. Their interaction in the car had hurt both of them and Steve didn't want to continue it any longer.

"I don't know. I guess I've always been a little intense." His smile faded slowly, allowing his gaze to fall back on the sketchbook. He'd been drawing a familiar sight, unable to get his best friend out of his head.

Y/n followed his stare, landing on the drawing scribbled onto the page. Respectfully reaching over and picking it up, she looked up at Steve. He made no effort to stop her, watching as her finger traced the curve of the face upon the page.

It was a rough drawing due to Steve's lack of time to really add the details he wished to but Y/n had seen plenty of his art so he didn't mind as much. Her lips parted but she didn't speak instead creasing her brow as she intently stared at the page.

Steve had drawn Bucky plenty of times before but shamefully most had been of the Winter Soldier. He used drawing as a way to drag certain images from his head and nothing haunted him more than the monster HYDRA had made his best friend into.

Yet this drawing was different. He drew him the way he remembered Bucky, from before the snap. When he was getting better.

On the page was a tired man, a man she'd never seen before. There was a permanent crease in his brow, decades of pointed stares and menacing expressions having worn it into his very features. A bit of stubble had grown on his face and his hair was long like she remembered. Even his expression as exhausted staring back at her with a weak smile.

Y/n wondered what moment Steve had drawn this from. What had happened to make Steve catalogue this within his memories. She wondered what had caused that look in his eyes.

The eyes that stared back at her were completely different from the ones she remembered, though she knew they belonged to the same man. These were kind yet weary: eyes of a man who had broken by war and hate but still felt things like compassion. A man who saw the worst of the world but still chose to protect it. .

"This was him?" She mumbled softly, meeting Steve's uncertain gaze.

He nodded, watching as she looked away from him.

This picture seemed to be her breaking point.

All the rage and all the terror, all of it melted into the already overflowing pool of self hatred. How could she bear to think about the grudge she'd held against a man who despite everything that the world had done to him, still fought Thanos that day when the world ended.

Today she had learned all at once the man behind the one she feared and all the hate she once felt was unjust. And as much as she wanted to hold onto it, she just couldn't.

It was wrong.

"You can keep it if you want." Steve offered once she had handed him back the sketchbook. She began to shake her head, trying to reason it meant more to him than to her but Steve had already pulled out the page handing it to her.

"To remember who he really was." He reasoned.

Y/n held it tenderly in her hands, taking care to lay it in her lap as if touching the page in any rough manner might damage the man displayed on it.

When the silence came it didn't feel as suffocating as before. They sat there on his bed for an hour in that silence. Y/n was grateful for the time to think, trying desperately to come to terms with everything she'd been told.

And it wasn't until Y/n was about to get up and head home for a change of clothes that Steve spoke, breaking the silence.

"I know why you came." Steve said suddenly, making her lift her head to peer up at him. Shame flushed over him and Y/n could feel her heart drop. "You want to know why I wanted you to stay so bad. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"You think keeping me around was a mistake, don't you?"

Steve's expression morphed into shock and he instantly shook his head at her assumption. Allowing him to take her hand in his, she felt a bit ashamed for how hurt he was by what she had said.

"No. Never. I want you here because I sincerely believe you can help us. You can help me." Y/n sighed, her eyes landing on their outstretched legs. She let him idly circle his thumb along the back of her hand, trying to fight the urge to argue.

"I want to help, Steve. And I think I can, just..." She trailed off. "This is your thing, Steve. Not mine. I'm not equipped for this. I wish I was, I really do."

A frown tugged at his lips and his lashes brushed his skin briefly as his eyes fell on his lap. He knew it was unfair to her to bring her into this and it certainly wasn't okay to keep her against her will but he needed her.

"I know. And I'm sorry. Just-" He cut himself off, shifting on the bed to face her better. She watched with an unsure gaze as he took both of her hands. "Ever since I could remember I've done what I thought was right and for a while it worked. But the past few years, I've ruined so much."

His voice was hushed and Y/n could see how troubled he was by his furrowed brow and clouded eyes. His eyes were trained on their intertwined hands, her touch filling him with a familiar ease. One he'd known all his life.

"Things have gotten too hard. Being Captain America isn't white and black anymore and when we lost, I didn't see a point. But then I met you and things were easy again. I didn't have to be Captain America, I could just be Steve." He confessed.

He felt guilty, not that his words weren't true. If anything, this was the most honest he had been with her. But the guilt that seeped into his heart came from Bucky. He hadn't just failed the world, he failed all of his friends, all people he would fondly consider his new family. Could he really risk losing again?

"I don't know if that even makes sense but I need you here. I need to be Steve." He dared to take a glimpse at her, fearing she might condemn him. Instead a warm smile graced Y/n's features, patient and kind like Bucky always was.

"Okay." She whispered, her heart clenching as she forced the simple word. She couldn't shake the feeling that her luck hadn't yet turned. Everytime she tried to help, it destroyed everything around her. She couldn't let that happen again. "I'm gonna go get some stuff from the apartment then you have my wholehearted assistance."

Y/n carefully tucked the picture into her pocket before climbing off the bed, standing next to it as Steve swung his legs over the edge. "Do you want me to go with you?" He offered. She shook her head, pulling her hair up and tying it.

"Nah, I'll be ok. What, you scared I'll run away?" She attempted to lighten the mood. Steve chuckled as she walked over to the door running her fingers along the wall before pausing. He watched her small frame hesitate before shooting a short glance back at him. "Hey, uh- just…don't do anything stupid till I get back." She pleaded, earnest concern in her tone as he pushed off the bed.

A soft smirk came to his face and he lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug. "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." He replied instantly, not giving it too much thought. Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes and letting her fingers wrap around the doorframe as she stepped out into the hall.

"Grandpa's got jokes now." She offered a genuine laugh, her smile lingering upon her lips.

Then she disappeared down the hall, leaving him standing silently in the now empty room trying in vain to brush away the painful overlap.

•••

When she got back to the apartment she packed a bag of essentials for herself, making sure to stop by Steve's room and pack a few extra clothes in case he needed them. Speaking of the man, she scoffed looking at the full sink.

"Steven Rogers, I swear." A long sigh filled the quiet apartment as she set about washing the dishes he'd promised to take care of. While she was at it she took care of a few other chores since she wasn't sure when she would be back again.

There wasn't much to be abandoned at the apartment other than a few plants but they'd been dead for a couple days at that point. She never had been one to have a green thumb but Steve claimed having them around gave the apartment some life.

Ironic.

The walk back to the compound was peaceful even in the constant gloom of the city. Knowing there was a shift in the atmosphere filled her with a new type of feeling, one she hadn't experienced in a really long time.

There had been people on the street, going about their business. Everything was dulled compared to life before the snap but she hadn't noticed until she knew there was something to be done. How many times she had gone about her life while something was happening behind the scenes that she had been so painfully oblivious to? Perhaps that was why the Sokovia Accords had been created in the first place.

There were so many close calls the Avengers prevented that the public didn't even know about until it was on the news. Though she didn't agree with the Accords she understood the government's wish to be more aware and even in control.

Once reaching the compound, Nat let her in through the gate and Y/n began her trek to the building. Tugging her hair free of the hair tie, it fell loose around her face and she cringed at the grease starting to build on her scalp. Moving through the halls of the compound, she let herself really explore.

Despite years of friendship she hadn't really been at the compound for longer than a few hours at a time, most of the visit being spent in the training room with Nat. Steve explained he wanted to keep his friendship with her separate from his life as an Avenger and since she had been doing everything in her power to forget her past, she appreciated the separation.

As she continued to wonder, she hoped there'd be a shower somewhere on the large complex. But before she could ask anyone, her silent venture was cut off by the sounds of very frantic voices coming from a door to her left. Hesitantly she stepped through, finding herself in a large open space with a very odd scene.

The horrid van had been brought in and the back glowed while what looked like a portal swirled inside it. A baby, she assumed to be Scott, stood on wobbly feet in a crudely made suit as everyone turned to her with alarmed expressions. Y/n dropped her bag and rushed forward, pushing Bruce aside as she pointed for Nat.

"When I say kill the reactor, kill it!" Y/n demanded, adjusting the calculations on the panel as Nat rapidly walked over to the reactor.

"Kill it!" Y/n called. Nat's frantic hands quickly pulled down the knob, turning off the reactor before looking back over to the van. Scott had returned to his position and normal age, his face contorted in shock and confusion.

"Somebody peed my pants." Scott proclaimed making Nat sigh, walking over to them. Y/n let go of her own sigh of relief, stepping away from the control panel. Bruce looked over the work she'd done, his eyes widening for a split second before returning to Scott.

"God, I leave you guys alone for one hour! I told you not to do anything!" She cried, sending an aggravated look at Steve. He cowered under her detested glare, bringing his hand to the back of his neck.

"But I don't know if it was 'baby' me or 'old' me...or just 'me' me." Scott elaborated, earning an annoyed stare from Y/n. However Bruce did not share her agitation, holding up his hands dramatically.

"Time travel!" He announced, a proud grin on his face as he looked to the others for the same enthusiasm. Steve refused to reply instead shaking his head and stalking off toward the exit while Y/n tried to calm her racing heart. She made them promise to wait for her. She knew something like this would happen.

"What? I..I see this as an absolute win!" Bruce called after Steve. Nat and Y/n looked at one another before moving to check on Scott. He was fine other than some wet pants and suit which Y/n painfully took knowing they'd need the suit for another test run, one she knew she'd be leading.

"Here, Bruce." Y/n tossed him the suit. He caught it with a scrunched nose, holding it at arm's length with a disgusted expression.

"That's what you get for not waiting."

Part eight

Taglist:

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanie

@lextheflexsthings

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nevermeyers · 3 years ago

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For the writing ask : 7, 10, 15, 27 and 40 ?

Have a lovely day 💖

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

There are several things that are my deepest joy about this. The first is being able to create entire worlds and characters that feel real in my head. It's a skill that will never cease to amaze me. The human being is impressive, right?

The second is to be able to express what I feel through narrative. Even if it's not about myself and I write about other characters, they all carry a part of me, my feelings and insecurities, my fears. Seeing the final result of what I write also makes me very happy :')

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

My own writing has scared me in a strange way. I've been doing it since I was a kid and it got to the point where I could easily write twenty pages a day without a problem. I have too big an imagination and the feeling of being disconnected and living my stories more than I live my life scares me . Yet at the same time, I wouldn't know what I would do without it, because I really like being able to unplug like that whenever I want. The hard part is coming back to reality :') I don't know if I explained myself well.

I remember something specific. I remember coming back from school every day by bus. The journey took between half an hour and forty minutes, depending on traffic. I used to put myself in the same place and ignore everything to get into a story in my head while listening to some music. I didn't close my eyes, but I could disconnect from my surroundings. And it was not only images that formed in my head, but also narrated it 🐝

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

NO NO NO NO 😭 Books are sacred to me. I'm the type of person that if there was a fire I would grab all my books. They're like my children. I even usually wash my hands before reading because I'm terrified of somehow getting them dirty. All my books are perfectly neat and clean, with no things in the margins, no stains.

Yes, I judge people who do that. It's unavoidable sorry :')

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

I won't say that writing them stresses me out, but I would be anxious to be with them if they were real people.

The first is Ran from Ephemere, who has a big problem with internalized homophobia and often treats his boyfriend badly almost without realizing it. It's infuriating, especially for his partner, to see how he thinks it's even normal to say that gay people are promiscuous by nature, or that being gay isn't normal. This Ran hates himself deeply and, despite the fact that he finds the strength to try to change, he is unable to leave behind all those thoughts that his family has transmitted to him.

The second one is from a fic that I haven't published yet. It's from a Drakenui in which Seishu has an ED that he has dragged through without going to therapy since his childhood. He's a boy obsessed with the idea of perfection, as he has grown up watching his sister Akane (who also had an ED) trying to please boys by being perfect, also their family. After Akane's death, Seishu does the exact same thing, not only does he develop ED, but he starts hanging out with guys to heal his emotional emptiness, guys who treat him like crap the way they treated his sister.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

I haven't written poetry in years, so I'll put up an Oscar Wilde poem that never fails to inspire me to write <3

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,

And some when they are old;

Some strangle with the hands of Gold:

The kindest use a knife, because

The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,

Some sell and others buy;

Some do the deed with many tears,

And some without a sigh:

For each man kills the thing he loves,

Yet each man does not die.

#Have a lovely day too! 💖 Thank you for the ask <3 #@meyers #—asks🌸

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dynamic-instability · 7 years ago

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Hi, I just finished my freshman year in premed and my grades were horrible (like C average) and it was because I'm just not good at science in college like I was in hs... I'm so tired all the time and like I don't have chronic illness or anything and so I know it's not even like what you went through and maybe I'm stupid for complaining but I just don't know if I can keep doing this. I've wanted to be a doctor all my life, how do I give up on that dream??

(2/3) I just feel like I’m giving up and letting down everyone who expects things of me but when I think about things like having to get volunteer and shadowing hours I just feel like I’m panicing and it’s just this crushing weight and maybe I’m just not good enough but like how do I give up?? Doesn’t that make me weak?? My grades in other stuff like my history classes and even in calc were good but gen chem and gen bio fucking killed me I’ve always been a good student idk what to do now

(3/3) I’m sorry for sending this long thing that probably doesn’t even make sense and you dealt with so much shit with your sickness and stuff and you got really good grades obviously and I don’t even have anything like that, I’m just not good at school anymore?? I just know I need to make a change if I’m gonna do this premed thing and you’ve had to think about in the past what you’d do if you can’t be a doctor. I guess I just wanted your advice sorry this is so long lol I’m kinda freaking out

Oh my sweet bb anon. The first thing to do is to take a breath. The second thing to do is to stop comparing yourself to me or to anyone. Don’t start down that road of who has it harder and who is overcoming more, because that’s just not a productive line of thinking, okay? I’ve been there, I’ve done that to myself, it doesn’t lead anywhere good. Your struggles are your own struggles, and whatever you choose to do, it is valid. It does not make you weak.

There’s kind of a lot to unpack here so I’m just going to do my best.

I think the biggest question you have to ask here is whether you still genuinely want to be a doctor. So you’re struggling in your science classes, that’s okay, some C’s in freshman year don’t have to stop you. Just because your first year was hard, it doesn’t mean it won’t improve, and that’s true for a bunch of reasons. The material, for one thing: I didn’t like gen chem, but I loved orgo, and I know a lot of people for whom that’s been the case (it depends on how into quantitative thinking you are, I think). Also, intro-level bio classes can sometimes be the hardest because you have to learn a whole new vocabulary and way of thinking, but then once you have those skills it can get a lot easier. Also, regardless of your field of study, the first year of college is hard socially and academically, it’s a rough adjustment. I don’t know you, but maybe your mental health suffered from the stress and the transition, or maybe you just didn’t have the study skills yet because your high school coursework didn’t demand them. A couple bad grades does not mean you’re unable to do this.

What worries me more is that you said things like “I’m tired all the time” and “it feels like this crushing weight.” A look back through this blog will tell you I’ve had my share of feeling like this, and that not all of it can be attributed to chronic fatigue. But at least when it came to bio, I’ve always loved the material. Even when it was killing me, I love biology. I love biology and medicine so much that I do shit like writing a completely unnecessary 50-page lit review about cholera. I love a lot of other things, too, like music and history and linguistics, but nothing makes me happy like medicine makes me happy. If you love it and you’re struggling, you don’t need to give up, you just need to find better strategies for doing well. Find a tutor, work with classmates, find new study/organizational skills, retake some courses if you failed them. And there are going to be some courses in your prereqs that you just won’t like (see: me and physics) and that doesn’t have to stop you. The courses you take in undergrad are not necessarily reflective of everything to come. But if you hate science? Don’t put yourself through this. It isn’t worth it.

Here’s the thing. There is such a thing as a weed-out class, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Being “weeded out”, so to speak, doesn’t have to mean you’re not good enough, it can just mean that you’re figuring out what is and is not a good fit for you. My friend @carminapiranha went through this her freshman year, suffered through a year of pre-med where she struggled and was miserable before admitting it was not what she wanted. She has a degree in art history, and is about to go get a master’s degree. There was a girl I knew freshman year who was sure she was going to be a surgeon, but she got a D in gen bio 1 because the class didn’t make sense to her and made her miserable. She got an MBA and is making like hella money now.

You can change your mind, that is a valid decision. It doesn’t have to mean you’re giving up, it doesn’t have to mean you’re weak, it can just mean you’re looking for something that’s a better fit for you. You said you did well in history classes, but did you also like them? What was your favorite class you’ve taken? I know there are some degrees that feel more “useless” than others, and it would be naive of me to claim that that doesn’t matter when college is so freakin expensive, but honestly? Very few people get jobs directly in the field of their degrees. People end up doing totally random jobs all the time. Maybe there’s something else that’s a better fit for you. If there is, you should go and do that!

So I guess my question is this: why are you trying so hard to stay pre-med? Is it because this is what you want and you can’t see yourself being fulfilled the same way doing anything else? For me, that’s the wall I come up against every time I quit being pre-med (which has happened like… three times now?) If that’s the case then maybe look at alternate careers in the medical field (I myself have thought extensively about becoming a genetic counselor–similar academic requirements, but not as harsh in terms of training, and probably not quite as competitive as far as undergraduate GPA), or you can just keep pushing towards this goal and try to find better ways of studying. As for the extracurricular stuff, I would recommend that you try to stop viewing it as this crushing obligation. Find volunteer opportunities that are things you think are cool and that you want to do, not because they’re things that will look good on a resume. View shadowing as an opportunity to see whether various medical field things are right for you, not as ticking a box for some imaginary (or literal) application-strengthening checklist. If your campus has a pre-med/pre-health club, see about going to some of their events or talks. Talk to a pre-health advisor about options and opportunities. Talk to other pre-health people. It’s a lot, being pre-med. I feel the pressure too, all the time, and it can be exhausting, but if it’s really what you want to do, you don’t have to give up. You certainly don’t have to give up this early. You’re only a baby freshman (well, a baby sophomore, now, I guess) (I can call you a baby because I’m 24 and I have a whole degree now, so #dealwithit) (I promise I mean it with love and not condescension). One year of not-great grades is not going to preclude you from being a doctor.

But if the reason you’re so reluctant to change paths is out of obligation instead of an actual passion for the field, then it’s not worth it to keep making yourself miserable.

Whoever it is that you feel like you’ll be letting down by not becoming a doctor–your parents or your grandparents or your high school science teacher or whoever–you don’t owe them. I don’t know if you’ve got parents putting pressure on you or what, but if you do, just remember that it’s your life and no one has the right to tell you what to do with it.

Or maybe the person you feel like you’re betraying is your past self, the version of you that’s dressing up as a doctor for Halloween and telling everyone for the past 18 years how you’re gonna be a doctor and sitting in your bedroom watching Grey’s Anatomy and getting all fired up about how that’s gonna be you one day. This is a thought I’ve had a lot over the past six years or so. It’s hard if you’ve identified yourself by this desire your whole life to suddenly imagine being anything else. I don’t know if that’s the case for you, but I feel sometimes like I have this 12-year-old Kari in my head and I’m breaking her little idealistic medical nerd heart every time I take a step outside the path she’d have me on. But guess what? You don’t owe your past self shit. Your past self had ideas of what your life would be, just like baby Kari had ideas for what my life would be, but she didn’t have all the information that I have. I know better than she did. You cannot control the actions and the thoughts of your future self, you just have to trust that they are better informed than you are.

You are allowed to change. Your identity is yours and yours alone to shape how you please. It doesn’t make you weak to change course, it makes you flexible. (And hey, if studying biology has taught me anything, it’s that adaptability is key to survival) (There’s a reason my blog is called “dynamic instability”)

#premed #pre med #Kari tries to give advice I guess #sorry if this makes no sense I wrote it in the middle of the night #I kind of wanted to reply 'why the fuck are you asking me I'm a certified disaster'#but I didn't #because I had things to say so #anon #asks

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