#and then one day one of those beings saves your life.

[differenteagletragedy]

Swap AU for @minthe-drawings' Baxter x MC week!!!

Day 1: First meeting

You stood on the shore, gazing out at the ocean and taking everything in. The smell of salt, the light of the sunset reflecting off the water.

The feeling of the warm hand placed so comfortably in yours.

Over the course of your long lifetime, so many memories had been made here on the beach by your childhood home. But if you had to pick your very favorite one, it was really no contest.

"Hey Baxter," you said, turning your head.

Your husband met your eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his face as he answered, "Yes, darling?"

You took a moment to study him. His hair was greying, not the same grey he had as a child, though that was present too -- he'd stopped dying his hair decades ago. Wisps of silver were highlighted in the soft waves that framed his handsome face. Crow's feet and laugh lines could be seen in the corners of his eyes and around his mouth.

Evidence of a life well lived.

Lifting his hand, you placed a kiss along his knuckles. You asked, "Do you remember the day we met?"

He laughed, an easy, bright, beautiful sound, then moved to take you in his arms.

"How could I forget?"

The thing was, you're sure that you both had forgotten lots of things over the years. Not because you didn't want to remember, of course, but because there had been too many things happen between you to catalogue them all. Maybe there was a kiss that you should have tried harder to hold onto, or an inside joke forgotten to time.

You'd spent over 40 years together. More than half of your journey was over -- you didn't know how many years you had left to make those kinds of precious memories, or how well you'd be able to save them.

"Tell me about it," you said softly.

Baxter kissed your forehead and began stroking your hair, then he did as you asked.

He told you all about how his family had moved to Sunset Bird when he was nine years old, and how scared he was by everything. Being in a new town, so close to the ocean that used to terrify him, it had all overwhelmed him. So that very first day, as his parents were directing the movers, he'd snuck away to the beach. He'd wanted to face his fear, to try to conquer it so it didn't eat away at him.

That's what he was doing when you approached him.

"I was so happy to see another child in the neighborhood," he said, moving to rub your shoulders. "And also scared that I wouldn't be able to make a friend."

"That's understandable, but I think it's safe to say you made one."

He laughed again, and when his laughter turned to a smile, he gave you a soft kiss.

"I think so too."

You wanted to share a million more kisses with Baxter. You wanted a million more days on the beach with him, a million more lifetimes with him.

As much as it broke your heart, there really wasn't any possible way to experience those last two wishes. But the first one, you thought with a grin, you just might be able to accomplish.

[claiestve]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 ꨄ Isaac

˜”* ❝𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙚? 𝙄'𝙢 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ɢᴏ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

It had been roughly around a year since you moved out. Isaac missed you like crazy. He could easily find your information if he wanted to, and he had, but he wanted you to live peacefully. He knew you made that decision. That’s what you wanted and he had to respect that. Even if it was hard to. 

Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life. Sure you missed Isaac but you got another chance at life. To really live again. This newfound freedom was something to cherish. After all, you never had that before. Even when you got saved, you were still being monitored. You knew you couldn’t live like that. That didn’t stop you from thinking about it though. 

Nothing could prepare you for today. You had some people to meet but you weren’t expecting the type of people. It wore you out a little, talking to these people. So, you decided to take a walk after your meetings. 

There was peace in the air that you breathed in. Nice and quiet. A comforting area you’ve come across. You felt like you knew this area though. 

“What…” You speak to yourself.

You came across the place. The place. Where you initially passed out. Where Isaac found you. You never thought you’d see it again. It sent a chill down your spine. How could it not? You were on the verge of death. You couldn’t forget something like that. It took you a minute to collect yourself and walk away. 

The walk was no longer peaceful. You felt like your light had dimmed. There was a gloomy sad feeling in the air that wasn’t there before. You wished more than anything that the alleyway wouldn’t affect you like this but that was just a wish. Just like your wish to see–

“Pickle??”

You flinched at the nickname. It was a special one. Given by 

“Isaac?! Why are you here?”

“Me? It’s late at night and you’re less than a block away from an alleyway.”

“Yeah, the alleyway.”

You were visibly uncomfortable about that. That place made you uneasy. All of those places made you uneasy. It was clear as day and Isaac saw right through you. He’s observant but even more so when it comes to you. 

“So,” He started again, “Where are you headed?”

At this point, he just wanted to talk to you. It didn’t matter what you talked about, he just wanted to talk to you. You knew that but you didn’t want to confirm it. 

“Ah, I was just trying to clear my mind and get some air. It’s needed after talking to certain people.”

“Hm, like meetings?”

Trying to hide your smile, you nodded.

“Pickle, you’re doing meetings?” He asked teasingly. That was your guys’ relationship, a teasing one. That’s where the ‘Pickle’ nickname came from. However, there was a hint of pride in there. Possibly because he influenced you a bit but also because–

“I’m really proud of you, Pickle. I’m glad you’ve been doing well, very well.”

“Thank you, Isaac. That means a lot.”

Here you two were, smiling at each other. It was an endearingly endless moment for you two relishing in the moment. It didn’t feel like it was happening for too long but it certainly was. 

“Is it okay if I…” Isaac tried to form a hugging gesture with his hands. It was sweet to see him so shy around you. 

You nodded and shortly after, you were pulled into his chest and held by the man you’ve loved for so long. You felt truly safe and at home. It was then you realized he was your home. Not the state, not his house, not even the country. Just him. No matter where he was, he’d always be your home. 

Your phone started going off from an alarm you forgot you set. It was a reminder to get home before it was too dark out. Even though it was already late. 

“Shit, I should probably get going.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?” He hoped you’d say yes. 

You pulled away from the embrace. 

“No need. Bye, Isaac!” 

And like that, you were gone. Long gone. He didn’t have your number, your address, or anything. It broke his heart a little. He knew that the next time he’d see you, it’d have to be another one of these coincidences. 

“I really wish you stayed.” He said to himself, getting into his car. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

look i wrote this pls care abt it

[asmodaywritesstuff]

Another one bites the dust! - Leon S. Kennedy

Comfort fic for yall, I know it didn’t win the poll, but the Ada fic is still in the making 😓

Tags: Sexual innuendo, fluff, hurt-comfort, re4r Leon, No established releationship, cRinGE

Read at your own risk, lol

You were scared for your fucking life in this Spanish village until he found you.

Leon S. Kennedy, here on the President’s orders to rescue his daughter. An American agent who was on the search for a blonde girl called Ashley – He found the both of you in the church and almost shot you. Luckily, Ashley told him about you. Otherwise, you would’ve most likely been left to rot in that damned building.

You had seen all kinds of fucked-up shit in the past few hours… or had it been days already? It’s easy to lose your sense of time in this shithole. Well, at least you weren’t the cults primary focus now since Ashley managed to get captured for the second time now and they didn’t really seem to care about you all that much. You were an offering from a random villager to Osmund Saddler himself, and it was clear that you were quite unimportant to everyone. While Ashley was gone, you stuck with Leon, and he gladly handed you a handgun to defend yourself with. Even bought it for you from the weird-ass merchant guy that was seemingly everywhere- What a gentleman.

It was clear to him that you were able to defend yourself, despite not being as good at aiming, you sure were a natural with the handgun. You even managed to save his ass like twice when some villagers attacked him from behind. In conclusion, you two were a really good team, if you could even call it that.

During the time you two spent together, you learned a lot about him. The S in his name stands for Scott- which you thought was pretty cute, even if you had mentally scold yourself for calling him ‘Leon Slut Kennedy’ in your mind. But who could blame you? The guy has huge fucking arms and a face that girls drool over. He looked like one of the models in those underwear commercials. Well, not that you would mind seeing him in his boxers.

To make it short, you may or may not have had a small crush on him.

And that made it even worse for you when you managed to get lost after you two split up. You tried to retrace your steps, but to no avail. You were lost in some huge-ass science lab while Ashley was dying here somewhere. Leon was probably busy kicking ass and solving riddles while you were being attacked and had to fight on your own. There were about 5 soldiers trying to kill you while you screamed for Leon to come get you. You were scared for your life, especially when your bullets ran out due to all the shots you missed.

Your hands were trembling too much. Scared for your life, you just ran past them, hoping to run into something you could use to defend yourself. But of course, luck wasn’t on your side. And that’s how you ended up crying in a lab corner ‘cause you were terrified of dying. Upon hearing some Soldiers yelling, you hugged your legs tightly and covered your mouth to stop the loud sobbing noises. You were at least hoping for a quick death as you heard footsteps. This was it.

But to your surprise, you saw Leon, panting and frantically looking around the room, most likely trying to find you. Slowly, you removed your hand from your lips, but when you wanted to call out to him, no sound came out of your mouth. It was fucking terrifying. Leon quickly spotted you, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, looking as frightened as ever.

“I- There were too many and I couldn’t..- I’m so, so sorry... You had to come here to get me instead of continuing your mission and it’s all my fault!” you apologized profusely, breathing heavily. You thought you were going to die. But he saved you. Again. He should have just left you in that church- You were nothing but an inconvenience to his mission. So why did he even bother saving you?

Gently, Leon gripped your cheeks to make you face him. You hadn’t even realised that tears were rolling down your reddened cheeks. Leon wiped them away with his thumb. “Hey- don’t cry. I saved you because I wanted to save you. You did nothing wrong- it’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too sometimes- but that doesn’t stop me from trying to stop bad things from happening.” He reassured you, voice smooth and gentle. He was too good at this.

You sobbed a bit as you extended your hand, Leon taking it and pulling you up in a fluid motion. He smiled gently, pulling you into a tight embrace and wrapping his big arms around you. The gesture made you blush.

“Come on, we gotta get going.” He whispered soothingly, releasing you and giving you a pat on the back like a dad. Funny enough, he wasn’t even in his thirties, and he already resembled a father figure. A daddy figure. As you liked to call it.

[twistofstory]

New introduction! Giant lovable goofball at your service - and now I regret that this is a lore character 😭 I would love to explore Whale’s character and relationships with Stargazer and Parhelion in the future, she is so much fun) Warning: a big chunk of text under the cut! It dwells into Whale's background and Mortician's roots, her time as the leader of the squad and... well, there is a reason Breeze's part of the team now. (If you up for reading, please check it out! I spend a lot of time and effort writing this text and would really appreciate it :3)

Killer Whale lead the Morticians ever since they became a group, which was quite rare for the gang, but not that unwarranted for such a peaceful squad. She was a skilled fighter and enjoyed having a friendly duel from time to time, although not a lot of dragons wanted to try to fight her, as Whale was quite big for a seawing. However, despite the fearsome name, she was strongly opposed to unneeded violence. When it became apparent that the war was inescapable, she refused to join the seawing troops and fled her hometown, eventually meeting the Scavengers. A bunch of deserters and castoffs who shared close bonds reminded Whale of her lost family and friends. Their noble goal spoke to Whale, and she swore her loyalty to the gang. There she met two dragons that made their purpose helping victims of the war: one who healed and the other who would put to rest ones that cannot be saved otherwise – nightwing Stargazer and skywing-icewing hybrid Parhelion. Soon they became a trio: a healer, an undertaker and a warrior who keeps them safe. First Morticians. Loyal, brave and wise, Whale was respected and beloved by her team. Like all her life, Killer Whale woke up every day with the first rays of sunshine and got to scout, hunt and eventially wake everyone with loud laughter or even a tune - those days they didn't have to fear being heard so much. Like a giant ball of energy, she inspired and energized dragons beside her with passion and vitality. Despite their morbid craft, with her as a leader Morticians’ spirits were as high as they could be. Killer Whale surely had the biggest heart - although it was a bit fragile. With age, she started having troubles breathing after a lot of exercise, sometimes with a light pain in her chest and arms, but nothing too big, nothing to worry about. To Whale that is, Stargazer, who became her partner, was very concerned and begged her to take it easy while she searches for a solution. Whale was reluctant to agree, but she wasn't going to stop a healer from doing her job. Nevertheless, days gone by, pains never got any stronger and even stopped bothering Whale at some point, and her pulse always came to normal after a nice rest. In any other regards Killer Whale was as healthy as a horse, so Stargazer blamed it on a stressful year and tried not to think about it too much - Whale wasn't that bothered by the symptoms in the first place. Life goes on, and Morticians never without work, so everyone sort of forgot about it at some point. One day camp woke up to silence.

I based Killer Whale’s condition on cardiac ischemia, especially on the fact that this chronic illness can go completely symptomless (or with light symptoms) until it’s too late. I find it terrifying…  And now imagine Stargazer wake up next to her partner only to find out she passed away in her sleep without any warning signs. Bonus facts about Killer Whale: *Whale grew up at one of the islands of the Bay of a Thousand Scales as a fisher’s daughter, and her settlement had a very strong community. *She loved daisies, and these flowers grow on her grave. *Originally, I wanted to make her sandwing-seawing hybrid, but scrapped this idea.

[quippip]

guardian angel

[softpine]

This might be juvenile, but do you have any tips on not comparing yourself to others? (Especially when it comes to note count or popularity.) I’ve been posting a story for over a year and it hardly gets any traction. It’s tough for me to see new creators post and get hundreds or even thousands of notes. I hate that I’m doing this but don’t know how to quit it!

this is not juvenile!! i struggle with this myself, especially knowing that i hit my peak years ago and i've been on the decline ever since – but only by numbers alone! i'm more proud of my story than i've ever been, i'm more attached to my characters, i'm putting more love and thought into everything, but i had to be realistic with myself and understand that i'll never pull even half the notes i did in 2020. gone are the days when i would wake up to 3 new anons about my story and dms from people every day (i can't believe i used to get overwhelmed by it...) and i would be lying if i said it didn't make me sad sometimes, because we're humans and our brains are practically wired to crave the hit of happy chemicals you get from seeing the stupid number go up 😭 it does feel demotivating. it makes me feel less urgency to post quicker if i convince myself that no one is waiting for me anyway, which means i post less, which means even less people stick around, which makes me post less, and on and on. it's a tough thing for me to come to terms with in all honesty.

but it helps to remember that i would be writing even if no one is reading. and i know that, because i have! i've written entire novel-length fics that i've never published, i've written countless short stories in the frozen pines universe that i'll never post, i've created alternate universes that will never be shown, etc. i do it because the idea is in my head and it needs to Get Out and i'm kinda just a conduit for that. that might not apply to you, and that's okay! everyone is different. the important thing is to really sit down and think about WHY you write and what you get out of it. which part of the process makes you happiest? what makes you feel a sense of fulfillment / satisfaction? play to your strengths. try not to spend your time doing things you think other people will enjoy and instead, spend more time on the things that make you happy. for me, i haaaaate editing and i always have, so lately i've been trying to speed through it a little bit quicker even if it means the final product won't be as appealing to others. (this is still a work in progress for me...) i have more fun when i experiment with different writing styles, which might not appeal to others because it takes longer and i don't really have a recognizable style, but i don't care anymore because i'm having fun! ask yourself what YOU want from your story, and then write for yourself and only yourself.

essentially what i'm saying is: there will ALWAYS be people more popular than you, and there's no guarantee that when you find the popularity you seek, you'll be able to keep it. so you need to find some sort of intrinsic motivation to continue or you'll just keep comparing yourself to others forever and you'll deny yourself the joy of creation! "comparison is the thief of joy" could not be more true!!

[musashi]

.

[hoonclub]

[cactusprisms]

*rubs my grubby little mitts together* @sparklecryptid I have been rotating this concept in my mind for like a week now.

Cassia Furrowridge, a Hyur, as far as anyone on Eorzea is concerned, a Conjurer and adventurer, because very few other jobs will take someone who walks out of nowhere with no identification. She has had a chronic headache, minor but still present, since the calamity, when she arrived, that’s the result of her slightly weird echo, an existential crisis scheduled everyday for noon so she can actually get things done, and a decently clear recollection of the narrative of this world.

(She is also based on me and I am always worried about everything all of the time so, her carbie is her emotional support. Love Carbie.)

Her partner is Distant River, a hellsguard Roegadyn Marauder who is basically my in game wol. Whom I love. Big lady. Also an absolute nerd. In game she changed her name to Estella River because she thought it sounded nicer. Shard of Azem. Youngest child in her family.

[transgender-catboy]

I love my friends

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

nothing sucks more than being made to apply for the 20 jobs/100 points a month for centrelink and they STILL havent paid you for the last month. and also pretending to do applications for jobs that you know you wont get.... bc still, after your past year's job experience, NO ONE wants to hire you. fucking hate job hunting man.

[twilit-tragedy]

Scientific endeavours making me feel like 😤 today. Not even lab procedures or getting results, straight up interpersonal relationships and task management.

[cockaiine]

nanami’s side of the bed wouldn’t even be called nanami’s anymore. you sleep there nearly every day, blaming it on how the pillows smell of him.

nanami’s clothes aren’t his anymore, you're sleeping in his shorts and t-shirt tonight. you wore his shirt yesterday, and took his ties for some clothes experiments last week.

nanami’s sacred pens are no longer his own, he finds them on the table after you tried to scribble up something and forgot to put them back.

nanami’s mugs are now shared, always in the dishwasher even when he doesn’t recall using them at all. 

nanami’s thoughts don’t belong just to him anymore. you’d bug him about it all day if he doesn’t share what he’s thinking — so he, with an exasperated sigh, tells you what’s on his mind.

nanami’s salary doesn’t go straight to his savings account like it used to, instead taking a portion of it to spend on you. ‘you’ means gifts, flowers, dates, trips, trinkets, and so on.

nanami’s weekends aren’t as quiet as they once were; now they’re chaotic, full of so much of you. 

nanami’s fridge is full nowadays. candy, leftovers, ice cream, cheese, cake, bread, and the list goes on. so many things that don’t go along with his diet fill the once-empty shelves.

nanami doesn’t spend as much time in his study as before you moved in. now old books are left to collect dust, long forgotten in a room that’s never lit. even when he decides to pick one up and read it, it’s the minute that he sees your face the book is tossed away.

nanami’s happiness still comes from days off, but now it’s because those days are spent with you. days when he slept long and ignores the world are long gone, now he gets to sit and focus on you, watching as everything else becomes nothing but background noise.

nanami has always been sure he’s not looking for marriage, at least not right now. but he swears that ring looks so perfect for you. there’s no way he’d miss it. 

nanami stands in front of the bathroom mirror 5 minutes late every day because you’re still figuring out how to fix his tie the right way without any help. he can’t seem to rush you, though — what’s being precisely on time have on your little giggles as you sit on the sink and struggle to finish a task he could have done in under a minute?

nanami has been spending so much time eating as of late, more time than he can afford. while he used to finish a meal in approximately fifteen minutes, now dinners could stretch to two hours. he couldn’t get off the table early when you sit across from him, talking and joking and doing anything that’s not eating. he simply can’t possibly not indulge in the little conversations, appreciating every moment he gets to spend in your presence. nanami’s life wouldn’t even be called his anymore. you’re a storm, invading his life all at once, bringing in your chaos along with you. you’ve infatuated him, you’ve assailed his senses and changed his very being. every time nanami’s eyes align with yours, he prays your presence isn’t a fleeting one. he silently hopes you don’t leave as suddenly as you came, that you plan to stay.

[nikosheba]

A couple job interview hacks from someone who has to give a job interview every single goddamn day: (disclaimer: this goes for my process and my company’s process, other companies and industries might be different)

1. There are a few things I check and a few questions I ask literally just to figure out if you can play the game and get along with others in a professional setting. Part of the job I interview for is talking to people, and we work in teams. So if you can’t “play the game” a tiny bit, it’s not going to work. Playing the game includes:

- Why do you want to work here? (just prove that you googled the company, tell me like 1 thing about us, I just want to know that you did SOME kind of preparation for this interview)

- Are you wearing professional clothing? I don’t need a suit just don’t show up in a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants.

- Are you able to speak respectfully and without dropping f-bombs all the time? Not because I’m offended but because I don’t want to be reported to HR if you wind up on my team.

- Can you follow simple directions in an interview?

2. Stop telling me protected information. I don’t want to know about what drugs or medications you’re on, I don’t want to know about you being sick, I don’t want to know if you’re planning to have children soon, I don’t want to know anything about your personal life other than “can you do the job?” 

3. When we ask, “What questions do you have for me?” here are my favorites I’ve heard: - What does the day-to-day look like for a member of your team?

- If one of your team members was not performing up to his usual standard, what steps would you take to correct that?

- What can I start doing now to accelerate my learning process in this job?

- What are some reservations you have about me as a candidate? (be ready for this emotionally....it will REALLY help you in the future, and I’ve had people save themselves from a No after this, but can be hard to hear)

- In your opinion, what skills and qualities does the ideal candidate for this job possess?

- What advice would you give to a new hire in this position/someone who wanted to break into this industry, as someone who has worked here for a while?

Those are just my tips off-the-cuff. I work in sales in marketing/SAAS, so these can be very different depending on the industry, but I wish the people I interview could read this before they show up. 

[riaki]

i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.

soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.

and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.

it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.

but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.

he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.

and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.

that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.

but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.

so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.

and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.

he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.

he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.

and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?

but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.

pt.2

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?