#defending my childhood movies

[ginger-snaps014]

I recently posted a defense of Snow White after all the live action controversy, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the other Disney Princesses that face similar pop-feminist treat. As such, here is my defense for my childhood favorite, Cinderella. Ps sorry for the long post, but she’s my favorite. Also, TRIGGER WARNING - I put the domestic abuse items at the bottoms as number 7, but it referenced throughout.

1. Timeless and Universal Story

For those of you who are unaware, Cinderella is not only iconic as a Disney princess, but a version of her story exists in most parts of the world. In Egypt, you have the story of a Rhodopis (written between 64 BC and 24 AD). In China, there is the story of Ye Xian which dates back to 860 CE. The Malay-Indonesian people have the tale of Bawang Putih Bawang Merah (the swing version). The Vietnamese have Tam Cam. The Algonquin Indians of North America have "The Rough-Face Girl." In Germany, the Grimm brothers published "Aschenputtel" in 1812. The English have “Tattercoats”. The Russians have Vasilisa the Brave, or Beautiful, or Wise, or Fair… she is too popular for a single name. In Italy, there is Basile’s Cenerentola (published 1964). There is the French Cendrillon by Perrault (published 1967) (this is the one that the Disney version is based on). And in America, the iconic retelling is Disney’s version from 1950.

I’m sure there are more retellings by different countries. These are just the ones I remember and could quickly find. These are also limited to (i) the most known versions for each area, (ii) female protagonists, and (iii) instances where the happy ever after includes marriage to a man of wealth and standing. There are many others versions which do not include these points. After all, the base Cinderella story arc is simple: (i) protagonist in a good position that reflects a culture’s values; (ii) protagonist falls due to an injustice and loses one or several of the the following: family, wealth, status, looks, etc.; (iii) despite the fall, the protagonist keeps the values appreciated by the culture; (iv) an outside source comes to the protagonist’s aid and provides advise or items; and (v) thanks to the combination of protagonist’s values and the advise/items, the protagonist lives happily ever after in a secure position that is equal or better than where they started. When dealing with the classic Cinderella, the fall should occur in the domestic sphere with a personal transformation occurring after the fall, and security is reached when a female protagonist can leave the abusive environment permanently. Because this is a defense of Disney’s Cinderella in particular, I’m going to focus on that Film in an American context.

2. Femininity as a Neutral

While pop feminist like to point out that Cinderella is shown doing primarily domestic (aka historically feminine) work, needs a pair of heels to change her life and is saved by a prince, they never dive deeper into their arguments. At the end of the day, traditional femininity is a mixed bag in this film.

A. Domestic Labor

Yes, Cindy is shown doing domestic labor. However, that domestic labor is shown in a negative light. She’s is in rags, worn out, and trapped. Domestic labor is not painted as something good. It is part of the representation of the abuse she suffers. The most artistic image of this labor occurs while Cinderella sings with the soap bubbles. That song is immediately followed up by the cat Lucifer destroying her work. Showing the endless and thankless nature of domestic labor.

B. Makeover

The heels are magic and part of her transformation. They are shown as “good” because of what they give her (i.e. the ability to go to the ball and the ability to prove her identity). Her makeover does not occur in a vacuum. We see Cinderella admire her own reflection in the movie multiple times (while in rags and transformed). We see her fawn over her mother’s dress and enjoy feminine things. She is not forced to give up her identity conform to the femininity those around her want her to have. She is given an opportunity to be herself. She is the girl who like ballgowns. She is the girl who enjoys shoes. The clothing is her expression. Not her cage. If Cinderella did not like such things, her fairy godmother would not have forced her to wear them. Forced femininity is wrong. So is hating on femininity for existing. And hating those (of any gender) that enjoy it.

C. Prince as a Symbol

Yes Disney’s Cinderella’s happy ending comes with a man, but he is not the point of the ending. If you ever noticed how underdeveloped the prince is, you are not alone. Because the prince is a symbol of Cinderella’s dream rather than a well rounded character.

In the movie, the ball is set up last minute. From the moment of the king’s decision to host the ball to Cinderella’s midnight run, not even 24 hours have passed. If Cinderella had been only been dreaming of a ball and prince for the entire film, how could she be singing about that particular dream in the beginning of the movie. The ball has not even been planned. She can’t have. Her dreams referenced in “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” must then be about something else. Looking at the context of the story, we know it takes place in a capitalist, patriarchal, hierarchical society based loosely off 1800’s France. In a capitalist country, financial security comes from riches (like in the royal treasury). Hierarchical status come from high standing (like royalty). Female success in a patriarchy often equates to marriage. Cinderella was only taken care of and protected while someone who loved her was alive (her father). She knows the mere fact a person has a duty to take care of and protect her (the stepmother) is not enough. As such, Cindy would find love, not a contract marriage, more secure. At the ball, Cinderella does not even realize it’s the prince she dances the night away with. She learns after the fact.

And what is her happily ever after? A prince who loves her, marries her, raises her social standing, and provides financial security. He is the embodiment of love and safety in the society of the story. Is it wrong to dream about love and safety when your life is miserable due to the lack of both? Heck, I’m not in her situation, and I still dream of love and security.

D. The Stepsisters

Like Cinderella, her stepfamily enjoys beautiful things and fashion. They want financial security. They embrace femininity as much as Cinderella. But are despised for their attitude and actions. Cruelty, vanity, greed and jealousy. They push Cinderella down so they can appear higher than her. The toxic nature of these characters shows that femininity is not idealized on its own. It must be combined with other positive traits. Bows and ruffles do not make one a worthy person. Ballgowns and heels alone do not earn a happy ending.

Perhaps their failings are in the unfeminine sins of being loud and ugly, but other versions of these stepsisters (including the French versions) are described as beautiful and poised. They are still the antagonists. Perhaps it’s their vanity, but we spy Cinderella enjoying her looks on multiple reflective surfaces throughout the movie (bubbles, a fountain, a pond and a mirror). Cinderella cries as loudly as the sister sing off key. Despite the Disney Marketing Team using the term “Ugly Stepsisters,” the story focuses on the sister’s actions (like ripping up the pink dress violently) as much as anything else. Their cruelty is better remembered than the shape of their noses. It’s their souls that are ugly. And no amount femininity will change that.

E. Masculinity is also Neutral

While masculinity is not very present in this movie, it does appear in side or undeveloped characters. The unhinged king who acts rashly, violently and loudly (negative). The nervous duke who needs a vacation and seems on edge (neutral - but less traditionally masculine ). The underdeveloped prince (positive) . The nefarious cat Lucifer (negative). And the helpful mice - particularly GusGus (positive, but ignorant) and Jacque (positive, but condescending) . Marrying a man might have given Cinderella her opportunity to flee an abusive household , but the stronger masculine moments of the film (like the king with his anger and the midnight chase) are not seen as particularly positive. With such a mixed bag of representation, you cannot say masculinity is treated in a more positive light than femininity.

In fact, even adherence to gender expectations is varied. The king is the character obsessed with babies. That typical feminine trait is his redeeming quality. The evil stepmother is commanding. Her presence on screen is filled with power. The Duke is physically weaker and emotionally intelligent. The Prince is obsessed with “love” but not women in general. None of the men are ambitious with the potential marriage. The most adhered to gender convention is clothing. Something that this particular fairytale says can easily be transformed to match your true identity with a wave of a wand.

3. Capitalism and Media

Every piece of media contains parts of the society that made it. Cinderella is no different. You can see the Dior New Look as an animated fashion masterpiece, the glitter of postwar consumerism and influence of post-war propaganda. In 1950, the dream was to throw off the toil and dirt of the war years and drive in your Chevrolet Bel Air into a future of modern conveniences and beauty.

Some people have complained that Cinderella is too capitalistic - with her new magic clothing celebrating consumerist culture and with wealth being a part of her happy ending. Well, Cinderella was made in America post-WWII during the Cold War. Pro-capitalist sentiment was the name of the game.

Plus, many older and more recent versions continue this capitalist view because we still live within capitalist societies. They are merely reflecting the values of society back at the audience. There are Cinderella tales where the wealth is refused (1997 animated Anastasia for example).

Additionally, even in the Disney version, Cinderella must return to rags before she can achieve happiness. While in these rags, we see her happily daydream about the night before and hum to herself contently while getting ready to meet the duke (who is trying the slipper on all women). This joy did not require her to change into a fancy gown. Or adorn jewelry. She is not embarrassed by her rags. Her mood only sours when the stepmother locks her in the attic. The loss of her escape makes her weep. It’s the lack of freedom, not finery, that breaks her. Even the last images of this film show Cinderella running happily in a fairly simple wedding dress down a flight of stairs with her prince and entering carriage that pulls away. The last image of Cinderella is not entering a castle, wearing golden gowns, covered in sparkling jewels, or any definitive measure of her new wealth. It’s her escaping. With the person who loves her. Running towards a life free of abuse and fear.

4. Everyone is a Princess

One Cinderella retelling said it better than I ever could. Per the Little Princess, “I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren’t pretty, or smart, or young. They’re still princesses. All of us.” Cinderella is not about a chosen one. A prophesied hero with special powers or abilities. It’s a story about a person being abused by those more powerful and overcoming that trauma. Anyone who was ever been made to feel like less than, can see hope in this timeless tale. I would expand this sentiment beyond girls to anyone who wants to be included because as Sarah reminds us being a princess is a state of mind. Anyone can do so if they are kind, remember they are worthy of love, and refuse to let others make them think their life has no value.

5. Bow down to the Princess that saved a Studio

Prior to the release of Cinderella, Walt Disney’s studio was facing imminent foreclosure. Disney owed the Bank of America millions of dollars.“Cinderella” proved to be the hit the Disney studio needed. Had it flopped, Walt Disney would likely have gone out of business; instead, it was a huge hit, and, in 1955, he opened Disneyland. Disney reportedly said the magical dress transformation sequence in Cinderella was his personal favorite piece of animation. Cinderella has remained visually recognizable and iconic over 70 years after her introduction. She is often used as the face of the “Disney Princess” marketed items. No doubt just the art of this movie changed the pop culture landscape forever. Without Cinderella, there is no Disney World, Little Mermaid, Mulan, Marvel Studios (as we know it), Owl House, Mary Poppins, Parent Trap, Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, Lion King, Mighty Ducks, Remember the Titans, Holes, Inside Out, Encanto, Coco, Princess Diaries, Hocus Pocus, etc.

6. Personal Bias

I will own up to my own bias. Cindy and Buffy (from Buffy the Vampire Slayer) were my two main fictional heroes. I love them. It should be noted also that I am blonde with lighter eyes so I strongly identified visually with Cinderella on screen. She is one of the reasons I so strongly support increased representation for the POC, LGBTQA+ community, disabled people, etc. I remember how much it meant to see someone who looked like myself on screen. I can’t imagine not wanting others to experience the same joy.

**Trigger Warning Domestic Abuse**

7. Classic Cinderella, a Domestic Abuse Survivor

A. Her Story is a Survival Story

A classic Cinderella character suffers from and escapes domestic abuse. Disney’s Cinderella is no different. She is a victim who overcomes her circumstances and becomes known as a role model, heroine, and royalty. The film narrator directly states, “… Cinderella was abused, humiliated, and finally forced to become a servant in her own house. And yet, through it all, Cinderella remained ever gentle and kind.” Her suffering does not limit her ability to find happiness and success. She wins. She escapes. The fact her success is in part due to her friends and support network is valuable. And at the end of the movie, Cinderella must run down the stairs herself to the get the Duke’s attention. She must take that last step to obtain freedom. That’s often the hardest step. And it was her choice and action.

There is nothing wrong asking for or receiving help. Cinderella’s worth is not diminished because she has friends. We should be encouraging domestic abuse victims to reach out and get help. It is an incredibly dangerous situation, and the victim’s life is most as risk at the moment of escape. Cindy relied on mice, a fairy godmother and royalty. If you are in that situation, pleas feel free to rely on a friend, family member, hotline, etc. Get yourself to a women’s shelter that can give you a roof, clothes and food. Cinderella received goods from her godmother. There is no shame in getting help.

Cinderella is not less valuable because she did not escape on her own. She just needed to escape. Happiness is only found outside of the abusive environment. This is the story of survival. Remaining gentle and kind despite the world. Not letting your trauma darken your heart. How can that not have value? Especially, when this is such a real world issue.

B. Blame Society and Abusers, not the Woman

In the context of a story which is loosely based on 1800’s France, we see no working women (other than Cindy as a servant). To leave without a reference (which the stepmother would never give) or a husband to provide, Cinderella would have ended up a prostitute. There were no domestic abuse shelters in the 1800’s. There were no ways to support or save herself within the world shown on screen without a “miracle”. If leaving a domestic abuse situation in our world is hard, dangerous and requires aid, Cindy required more. She required magic. Neither Cinderella nor any other domestic abuse victim should be blamed for the faults of their society.

We should also not fault Cinderella for being abused. I don’t understand how conveyers of pop-feminism can clearly explain the issues with victim-blaming in sexual situations, but then fail to grasp the exact same concept in popular narratives. Is it the animation as a method of storytelling? The fact the victims find happiness despite their trauma without always resorting to punishing the evildoers? The fact that these victims are hyperfeminine? As if looking a certain ways means you are asking to be hurt. How is this supposed to make real victims feel when they hear the cruel comments? When they identify with Cindy’s situation? Don’t blame the innocent party for failing to stop the actions of the abusers. Only the abuser is responsible.

C. Real World Issue and Inspiration

Much like Cinderella, we exist in a capitalist, patriarchal, and classist society. The USA struggles with domestic abuse and child abuse even today. On average, nearly 20 people per minute are physically abused by an intimate partner in the United States. During one year, this equates to more than 10 million women and men. 1 in 4 women and 1 in 9 men experience severe forms of domestic abuse (Domestic Abuse Statistics by the NCADV). In 2021, a reported 452,313 perpetrators abused or neglected a child. In substantiated child abuse cases, 77% of children were victimized by a parent. In 2022, 21% of people alleged to have abused a child were themselves children. (Child abuse statistics by the National Children’s Alliance).

The issue was even was worse in the past, which might explain why certain older versions of Cinderella still resonate. For the majority of western history, domestic abuse was explicitly legal. Maryland was the first state to make hitting your wife illegal in 1882. In North Carolina in 1886, the beatings had to be severe enough to cause permanent injury or malicious beyond reason to be punishable. Wife beating only became illegal in all of the United States in 1920. There were not serious legal changes between then and 1950 when Disney’s Cinderella was released. Domestic matters were seen as something private to handle at home. In 1962 (12 years after Cinderella’s release), Domestic violence cases were transferred from Criminal Court to Family Court in New York, making it nearly impossible for perpetrators to be criminalized if he or she assaulted someone. Also in 1962, the first guidelines for recognizing child abuse and neglect are printed. Maine opened one of the first women’s shelters in 1967. In Chicago during the 1970s, women’s who left their husbands due to battering were denied welfare because of their husband’s salary. The Child Abuse and Prevention Act only passed in 1974. Terms like emotional and physiological abuse were not used or recognized until right before the 1980s. Stalking wasn’t identified as a crime until the 1990’s. The Violence Against Women Act was not passed until 1994.

Given that Cinderella is a story where the victim, not only escapes, but thrives, it has merit. Because that the majority of domestic abuse victims are women, Cinderella’s gender and femininity seem all the more valuable. I know of at least one survivor who used this film for comfort while growing up. I hope she has stayed safe.

Cinderella is not defined by her pain or abuse. She is defined by her perseverance and good heart. She is defined by her escape from the abusive home. She is defined by finding love, security and acceptance. She is a valuable character who deserves to be iconic. I hope every survivor can see a little of themselves in her gentle kindness.

[youssefguedira]

you know the jafar movie being very very unlikely to ever happen is good news for everyone involved but especially me because i won't have to try and compare it to the secret good one that lives in my head

[natjennie]

I know nothing MAKES you gay obviously but in hindsight. the amount of team nice dynamite achievement hunter content I consumed 8-10 years ago certainly didn't help.

[ferretforrest]

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I will never understand why some people feel the need to defend the indefensible.

[pixeljade]

Okay so JK Rowling has:

• Openly been transphobic as fuck

• Donated tons of money to causes which have eroded trans rights across the globe, to the point of being one the biggest forces behind the current transphobe movement

• Defended slavery in her most popular work (House elves LIKE being slaves thoooo 🙄)

• Used racist caricatures which have racist names in her most popular work (Kingsley Shacklebolt, Cho Chang, Seamus Finnigan)

• Used antisemitic caricatures in her most popular work (Goblins)

• And if you're still "well, but..."-ing the antisemitism of the Goblins, the recent game was straight-up the definition of blood libel

• Completely botched her representation of native americans because she doesnt care enough to do research

• Used the name of the man who invented conversion therapy as a pseudonym to write books

• Made a movie set in her universe where the *VILLAINS* goal is to stop the holocaust (which. WOW)

• And has now engaged in ACTUAL HOLOCAUST DENIAL

Seriously, how bad does she have to get before you all will admit to yourselves that supporting her is the same as supporting nazism??? "It was part of my childhood!" Same!!! And it sucks to admit that something you used to love is actually awful and harmful!!! But also at some point you have to just...move on!!!! "Oh I'm sure its just a mistake!" Why, because she claimed that ONE character is gay and wouldnt even let it be shown ever??? Because the main villain was slightly more cartoonishly racist than she is???? Because one of the most popular characters quit being a cartoon racist *BECAUSE HE WAS HORNY*?

Seriously. Give up Harry Potter. No grey area anymore.

Edit: forgot some shit she did, added it

[guilty-pleasures21]

See, my brain refuses to accept that Miguel O'Hara is a suave flirt, because this man's first girlfriend was the girl who defended him from his childhood bully, he's had at least 3 long-term relationships from what I know of comics lore and in the movie, his definition of true happiness was being a father! You cannot convince me that this man's flirting abilities extend beyond awkwardly posing, unintentionally sounding like a smug know-it-all while trying to show off his intelligence, and telling dad jokes. 🙃😍

[pepsiboyy]

UNSPOKEN BOND.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: where chris and reader are best friends and chris is in a toxic relationship. when reader is fed up with hearing about his frustrations with his girl, she confesses her undying feelings for him since their childhood. warnings: ANGSTTT (resolved), cursing, screaming and crying, use of y/n lol a/n: i love this. SO MUCH. you guys voted angst on the poll <3 enjoy, reblog + comment <33 wc: 3.4k+

"are you even listening to me?" chris's finger stabbed at my shoulder, and i sighed deeply as i dramatically picked up the remote and paused wall-e on the tv.

"no, chris, i'm trying to watch the movie we agreed to watch tonight." i mumbled and smiled softly at the puzzled expression on chris's face. i leaned over and fixed the loose strands.

all i knew was that chris kept yapping about his girlfriend of about six months now that i dreaded hearing about. she was emotionally draining, to say the least. and if she was for me, i couldn't even begin to imagine how she was with chris.

i had been best friends with chris since about kindergarten.

"hey!"

my head turned as i desperately tried to wipe the sand from my eyes, my tears having a hard time escaping.

the girl who had pushed me to the ground had stepped away.

"jus' cus you're a girl don't mean i won't kick ya!" the boy shouted, stepping closer which made the girl take a few steps back and run in the other direction.

i slowly opened my eyes to the boy, my eyes red as i sniffled and rubbed my elbow that had been scraped.

"you got sand in your eyes?" the boy asked as he kneeled down and brushed some hair from my eyes and behind my ear.

i nodded softly and looked at him for a moment.

"i'm chris." he gave me a dopey, toothy grin and held out his little hand. "what's yours?"

i took in a breath and held out my hand as well, gently placing it in his to shake. "i- it's y/n." i smiled.

chris shot me a smile that i could read through his bright blue eyes as well, but we both quickly whipped our heads around when a teacher was calling out his name, the little girl from before following behind with her arms crossed. "crap," chris mumbled with a deep sigh as he pulled his hands away and stood to his feet.

"christopher, what do you think you're doing, threatening to kick girls?"

"but!!" chris quickly defended.

i watched as he left and smiled to myself, standing up and brushing off my butt from the dirt.

chris always looked out for me ever since. and his brothers did the same as soon as i met them.

around sixth grade, i admitted to myself that i had feelings for chris. it was something i always kept to myself, something i never really spoke on.

something i did tell his triplet brother, nick one day by accident, but played it off as a joke because i didn't know how he felt about it.

"you know, y/n, you and chris bicker about as much as him and i do. it's hilarious."

i smiled at nick and shrugged as i took a sip of my pepsi. "well, i don't know," i mumbled as i set the soda down, "maybe it's just all the time we've spent together."

"or maybe it's because you have a big fat crush on him," nick joked, smiling as he wriggled his eyebrows and nudged my shoulder with his own.

i chuckled and shrugged softly, leaning back and sighing. "well, maybe i do." i admitted and smiled.

nick's entire expression dropped. "wait, excuse me?"

i quickly sat up and waved my hands. "no no, i was joking." i smiled nervously, causing nick to stare at me.

"that tone of yours was... pretty convincing-"

"pfft, me?" i started as i rubbed the back of my head and stared at nick. "as if i could have a crush on chris, that's.. that's insane."

nick stared at me, dumbfounded. "right. you had me there, i guess."

"anyways, what's with you and that one guy in our class?" i questioned, quickly changing the subject.

ever since then i kept it to myself.

the undying fear of rejection and ruining what him and i have - that was enough for me to try and move on.

but i couldn't.

chris and i had reached our senior year of high school, and he was now dating this girl that i watched rip the smile from his expression.

that adorable, dopey smile that made his eyes squint, taking his vision away temporarily.

it tore me apart, watching chris constantly stress about this girl for six months now.

now, i had my fair share of relationships through junior high and high school to try and get over chris. nothing serious, because i couldn't seem to feel anything for any of these people.

it was hard. having a crush on your best friend.

knowing that everything you did together was strictly platonic, and it would always be that way.

the credits began to roll on wall-e, and i let out a strangled yawn with a big stretch.

"alright, i'm gonna head home for the night." chris mumbled, eyes glued to his phone as he stood to his feet.

i stared at him and sighed, nodding. "good seeing you, chris. let's hang out tomorrow?"

chris didn't respond, and instead slipped on his shoes to head out.

as the door shut, i sighed deeply and pressed my face to my palms.

chris was never allowed to spend the night anymore since his new girlfriend. which, i suppose i would feel the same. but it still stung, having some of your greatest memories with one another being ripped away from you both.

"that fuckin' hurts!!"

chris yelled with a soft giggle, his eyes squinting as he groaned dramatically.

"come on chris, it isn't that bad!"

you smiled as your fingers attempted desperately to peel at the rubbery face mask that had stuck to chris's skin.

"it's pulling my sideburns!"

"man up!"

you smiled as you adjusted the band that held up his curly bangs from his forehead before continuing.

you had finally convinced chris to let you do his skincare. you had always wanted to, and it shocked you when he finally said you could.

"fine, but just this once."

hell, i was in love with chris. i was in love with the way his teeth had a small gap in the front, i was in love with the way his eyes creased each time he smiled, i was in love with the way he would hold me each time i was heart broken and i was in love with the way my name fell from his lips each time we saw each other.

"y/n!"

he wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders as he tugged me into his chest, his nose burying into my hair.

"chris, i saw you yesterday," i chuckled as i hugged his waist.

"i just missed you so much."

i tensed up as i felt a tear roll down my cheek.

this wasn't uncommon, the feeling of guilt and jealousy that washed over me as i reminisced on what we once had. but now.. now it was all about his girl who he liked.

the girl who "stole his heart" he says.

the one who finally made him think, maybe relationships aren't so bad.

but she was singlehandedly ruining him, and i had to watch it happen. i tried to give him the warning, and he didn't really have a valid response.

"what did you think of her?"

chris asked as he removed his jacket and hung it up on the coatrack by the door.

i shrugged as i slumped against the couch and sighed, playing with my fingers.

"y/n?" chris sat beside me and blinked a few times. "you okay?"

"i don't like her, chris."

chris furrowed his eyebrows as he looked me up and down a few times, his expression now puzzled. "what do you mean?"

i sighed as i sat up and looked at chris. "let me get this straight, chris. she tells me she hates my outfit and good thing she doesn't shop where i do, and that at least her clothes flatter her body. she asks me if i had just gotten out of bed and if i'm a hermit, and how you could know someone like me." i stated firmly. chris swallowed. "and you didn't say a word to defend me."

"she was joking, y/n-"

"chris, if i were dating someone and he said even the slightest disrespectful joke to you, i would turn it down immediately. you realize that?" i stared at him in disbelief.

chris nodded softly as he looked down. "i understand. i'm sorry. i won't let it happen again."

that was about a month into their relationship.

i sighed as i closed my eyes and laid down, my eyes closing after i had finished crying.

my phone ringing woke me up at about 1pm.

with my hair in every direction and my eyes lidded, i groggily reached over to grab my phone and read the caller id.

chris🧸

i sighed and pressed the green answer button, pulling the phone to my ear. "hello?" i mumbled, my voice scratchy and deeper as i had yet to speak this morning.

"y/n? are you just waking up?"

i sighed as i sat up and rubbed my forehead. "yeah, doesn't matter. what's up?"

"yeah, sorry. umm. could you come over? i'm kind of.."

i let out a deep sigh as i stood up and threw on a hoodie and sweatpants. "yeah, i'll be right there. is it your dumbass girlfriend again?"

"y/n, i told you not to call her that."

"yeah yeah," i sighed as i headed straight for my door, getting in my car.

matt, chris's other triplet brother was the one to open the door for me. i smiled softly at him, and matt gave me a sad smile as he opened the door wider for me to enter. "good to see you, y/n. i feel like you never come over anymore." matt mumbled.

i gave him a soft nod and a quick side hug after he shut the front door and locked it.

matt returned upstairs to nick's room, i assumed he was helping nick pick out outfits for his next instagram post.

i looked to see chris sitting in the kitchen, his hands in his hair as he kept his elbows against the wooden kitchen table.

i sighed as i walked towards him and set a gentle hand on his shoulder. his breathing was shaky, uneven. "what's wrong, chris?"

"i- i just don't get it.. she's always accusing me of being dishonest, y/n. she thinks i'm hiding stuff from her just because i hang out with you.." chris mumbled as he looked up at me, his eyes puffy and his cheeks stained.

i sighed as i stared at him in disbelief. normally, i would soften up and tell him it isn't his fault. "so did you forget to tell her we were hanging out, or did she just think it was a huge deal?"

"well i- i forgot to tell her but i didn't think it was a big deal!"

"god, chris!" i slammed my hand to my forehead. "isn't her biggest issue with your relationship hanging out with me?" i sighed as i looked at him and quickly shook my head. "she's just overreacting, chris. like she always is."

chris stared at me for a few moments before running a hand through his hair and sighing deeply. "maybe she has a point, i'm just sick of having these fights with her."

i was fed up. it was the same thing every fucking time with these two. and i've had enough of watching my best friend get hurt.

"maybe the problem isn't just her, chris." i stated as i took a deep breath, my expression now one of anger. "maybe the problem is that you aren't seeing what's right in front of you."

chris cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me. "what..?"

i took a deep breath as i stared at chris and took a step back. "i'm talking about me, chris. about us. ever since you helped me out of that stupid sandbox, we have been attached by the hip." i clenched my fists as i stared at him. "we were inseparable, you were my top priority, and i was yours. but now.. now you have this bitch of a girlfriend who is just ruining you! ruining us!"

chris flinched at my language, but quickly stood up. "don't call her that," he quickly stated, but i cut him off.

"no, chris. she had never liked me. i have never liked her. i'm sick of her!" i felt my face grow hot, my eyes begin to water. "chris, you silence me every time, but you don't see what i see! she's fucking ruining you. every day, i watch your smile die and your emotions crumble!"

i saw chris's eyes avert to the stairs, where i assumed nick and matt stood as they had definitely heard the shouting from nick's room.

"chris, i've been here since day one. our chemistry is unbreakable. or it was. until she came along." i stared at chris, who was now taking steps towards me.

"y/n, please don't cry-" he reached forward to pull me into an embrace, but i quickly stepped back.

"no, chris. i will cry. because i've been hopelessly in love with you for years and years now. and you have yet to see it, or do anything to defend it. and that's okay." i smiled sadly at chris, who stood in shock. "i always thought that i feared rejection or losing you. but with her in your life.. you've already left." i smiled sadly at chris.

chris stood still, his eyes glued to me. he had nothing to say. and that was fine.

i sighed and looked down, rubbing my eyes. "forget it." i mumbled as i turned on my heel, meeting eyes with nick and matt.

they both shared the same sad expression as they watched me.

i shot them a soft, sad smile before heading to the door and leaving, shutting it behind me.

four days. it had been four days since the incident.

i hadn't heard from chris at all, and i didn't expect to. i did hear from nick and matt a bit, both of them reaching out to ask how i'm doing. nick asked a few more times than matt did, offering to bring me food. i politely declined, but thanked him nonetheless.

i was bedridden the last few days. my eyes glued to the ceiling, prominent dark circles beneath them. my hands continued to pick at the skin on the edges of my nails, something chris would always stop me from doing.

"hey, why are you doing that?"

i turned to chris, who had an arm around my shoulders and a faint smile on his face. his hand reached to pull my hands apart.

"you're tampering with your pretty fingers, y/n. pick at mine instead."

he would offer, but i would tell him no after a soft laugh.

i turned to my window and frowned at the soft pitter patter that clashed with the glass, my chest rising a bit more in a deep breath before i sat up.

i went to my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

i'm a fucking wreck.

i think i'd rather crawl into a hidey hole and never leave than have the public eye see me like this.

i ran the water in the sink and let my hand run beneath it before allowing my fingers to glide through my hair, gently brushing through it with my fingers.

i then went to my kitchen to find something to eat, but narrowed my eyes when seeing nothing but yogurts and an apple sitting inside.

with a deep sigh, i took a yogurt and peeled it opened, digging through the drawer to grab a spoon.

i laid against the couch and sighed as i stared at the ceiling, mindlessly eating yogurt.

strawberry flavored yogurt.

"why is this one green?"

i giggled as i held up the green strawberry to chris's face, biting my lip to suppress a laugh. "it's almost as big as your nose."

"hey!" chris clasped his hands over his nose, his face growing red. "don't even say that," he giggled as he flicked my forehead.

"ow! what'd you flick me for!"

chris simply let out a cheeky giggle and began running in the opposite direction, shamelessly apologizing to the few people he had bumped into.

i smiled at him from afar, admiring the way his silky hair bounced with each stride he took away from me before continuing to pick at the strawberries.

ding dong.

my body jolted at the loud sound as i lifted my head and sighed loudly. "coming!!" i yelled, wrapping a blanket around my pajamas and fixing my hair as i went to the door and turned the handle, opening it quickly. "hello?"

my eyes widened and my face fell.

christopher sturniolo, standing at my doorstep with soaking wet hair and shaky breaths, his hands grasping his belongings that were slightly dampened from the rain.

"chris? what are you doing here?" i asked, my voice just above a whisper.

"please, can we please talk?" chris asked, his voice sounding just as broken as mine.

i pulled the door opened further and let him in, mentally thanking him for stomping his shoes on the mat outside before trailing his feet indoors.

"take a seat, do you want a towel?" i asked him, carefully stepping inside and looking at him.

chris shot me a soft smile and nodded. "that'd be awesome, actually.. thanks.." he mumbled, standing awkwardly beside the couch. he didn't want to get it wet.

i ran to the hallway closet and grabbed a towel, smiling softly as i handed it back to him.

he thanked me and pulled it onto his head, drying his hair and face with a soft sigh.

we stood awkwardly for a few moments before we each spoke up.

"chris-"

"y/n-"

we both chuckled.

chris stared at me with a look i hadn't really seen before. well, not in a while.

"i broke up with her." chris stated.

i blinked a few times as i looked at him, slightly confused. "what? how come?"

chris stared at me, dumbfounded. "you were absolutely right. and i don't know why i let her stick around for so long." chris whispered.

i nodded as i stared as him, gently taking a seat beside him on the couch.

"what you said to me the other day, i-"

"it's okay if you don't feel the same chris." i gently set a hand on his shoulder.

"i just- i got frustrated, i accidentally opened up to something i shouldn't have, and i just don't want to ruin our friendship or what we have, or upset you, but if you don't feel the same, it's okay, i just-"

i rambled. and i was cut off.

by the feeling of chris's lips against mine.

the most gentle kiss known to man, his hand against my jaw as he closed his eyes. his bangs tickled the bridge of my nose as he tilted his head and pulled away.

"and i thought i talked too much," chris whispered, his face a bright shade of red as he smiled at me.

i stared at him in shock. "chris-"

"i'm sorry i was too stupid to realize that you've been the one for me since that day in kindergarten when that bitch shoved you in the sand."

i chuckled and gently pulled him into a tight hug, my eyes closing.

"thank you so much, chris.." i whispered.

chris hugged me back, his arms wrapping around my waist. "what're you thankin' me for?" he questioned, his hand gently rubbing my back.

i sighed and took in his scent, nuzzling into him and letting out a deep sigh.

"just... for bein' here. and the best."

chris chuckled softly against my shoulder and rubbed my back.

"thank you, y/n." chris whispered as he pulled away.

i looked at him and gently stroked his cheek. "what for?"

"for helping me realize that i've been missing out." chris whispered, pressing his forehead to mine and closing his eyes.

i smiled and sighed softly.

for years and years, chris and i had an unspoken bond. but it was spoken of as soon as it began to fade away. and now i think that bond will remain stronger than it ever was.

taglist;; @sturnioloshacker @nickgetsmewetter (will add more once my poll finishes T_T)

[literaila]

it's not my fault

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: tsumiki and megumi get into an argument

warnings: sibling stuff, fluff, two oblivious (stupid) parents

last part | next part

*

year five.

“couldn’t you say something nice?” tsumiki is asking megumi when you walk in. “she just wanted to—“ 

you set your bag on the table, just barely able to make out their words. 

they were... quiet in the car, you realize suddenly. but you hadn't thought that anything was wrong. megumi's typically burnt out after school, and tsumiki waits until you all get home to start telling you about her day. 

but it only took a minute of you running back out to the car to grab something for it all to fall apart. 

megumi groans. “i don’t even know her.” 

you round the corner, just stopping there so you can observe. neither of them seem to notice you, or your wide eyes at both of their stances. the matching scowls on their faces. 

they look so similar that it shocks you just briefly. 

tsumiki has her arms crossed, shaking her head. “you still don’t need to be mean about it.” 

“i wasn’t mean.” 

“yes, you were. you told her to leave you alone.” 

“that seems like a pretty straightforward request.” 

“everyone at school thinks you’re mean,” tsumiki is pouting, looking dishearted at his reaction. typically, megumi will agree with her just for the sake of it. “and i always have to defend you, even if it’s true.” 

megumi sighs, shrugging. he's got his satoru-type scowl on, and even though he looks disinterested--as usual--you can see it when his frown deepens, and he shifts away from tsumiki. “well, stop then. i don’t need you to come to my rescue. i don’t care what people say.” 

“well, i do! you’re my brother.” 

“that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like your responsibility. i can handle myself.” 

“you’re always alone at school,” tsumiki disputes, almost whining at him. “if you were nicer—“ 

“i’ve never complained—“ 

“okay,” you turn the corner, brows already raised. “there’s a lot of raised voices going on. you two are going to wake up the neighbor's cat.” 

tsumiki is pouting at megumi and he just rolls his eyes. both children stand facing each other, standoffish in the living room, arms crossed. 

usually, they fight about what movie to watch, or who got to sit in the front seat last. 

but those fights don’t typically involve yelling. 

sure, they’re both sensitive about their childhood. about living here and being with you and satoru. they'll bicker about being little, megumi hating it when tsumiki mentions either of their biological parents, and tsumiki hating it when he refuses to listen.

but even then, tsumiki goes to hide, and megumi just shuts down. 

this seems… different. 

a part of you rationalizes that they're both exhausted from school and getting to that age where their priorities differ. 

you don't have any siblings, but you quarreled enough with nanami and haibara back at school to know how these types of arguments work. 

and unless one of them admits that they're wrong, it's never going to end. 

with that thought in mind, you put on a learned smile, standing between the two of them so you can look back and forth between the two children, observing both of their very closed-off body language. 

it's a little cute, honestly. they both look very different, but their matching stances and glares are worth much more than biology. you almost want to stop them to take a picture. 

satoru would do it if he was here. 

“tough crowd,” you say, feeling the tension between the two. “what’s going on?” 

“nothing,” they both say, at the same time, but megumi with an attitude and tsumiki with a sniffle. 

really, you should find a book about expressing emotions. you and satoru are teaching them far too much about denial and avoidance. 

you make a mental note to look it up later. 

you blow out a breath. “yeah, well, i heard the yelling, but i’m missing some context."

you look between the two of them, but they’re not looking back. both sets of eyes are focused on each other, identical glares bouncing off of each other. they could be communicating in some secret language and you would have no idea. 

in fact, you can basically see the thoughts they're forcing towards each other on their faces. 

“hey,” you poke them both on the forehead at the same time, trying to get their attention on you. “talk to me. what happened?” 

they both remain still as statues for a moment, not bothering to consider the question. 

but after a moment, tsumiki blinks, and her frown increases, which makes megumi roll his eyes--like he already knows what she's going to say, and doesn't care. 

“megumi was mean to a girl at school,” tsumiki says, finally looking at you with big doe eyes. her face is pained, confused, and worried. 

and honestly, she could ask you for anything with that look and you'd give it to her. 

but megumi sighs. “i wasn’t mean.” 

“you told her not to talk to you!” 

he looks to you, less pleading but confident. “if i want space, shouldn’t i tell someone that? isn't that what you say?” 

you open your mouth. “well, it depends, megs, you can’t—“ 

“you’re always mean,” tsumiki’s eyes are filling with tears. she looks at you too. and usually, she would apologize for interrupting, but not right now. “nobody at school wants to be around him. he scares everyone, and they don’t believe me when i say that he’s nice.” 

“tsumiki," you begin, face softening, "you shouldn’t—“ 

“that doesn’t make me mean. why would i want to hang out with people who don’t like me?” 

you turn, “megumi—“ 

“they would like you if you weren’t always saying mean things!” tsumiki tells him, her sweet voice rough with frustration. the tears begin to slip from her eyes. 

and you can feel it when megumi moves another inch away, wanting to flinch back from her sadness the same way you do. 

“i don’t want them to like me,” megumi corrects, shaking it off. “i don’t care what they think.” 

tsumiki frowns even deeper, eyes growing wide. “what about what i think?” she asks him.

“are you going to stop hanging out with me?” 

“maybe.” 

“how? we literally live in the same house. your room is down the hall from mine.”

“guys—“ 

“i’ll ask dad to move rooms. he won’t mind.” 

“oh, sure. because you’ll be able to avoid me at the dinner table—“ 

“why are you always—“ 

“guys.” 

they both look to you, glares immensely misplaced. their mouths are still open, ready to interrupt each other at a moment's notice. 

you look between them, finding matching pictures on either side. clearly, they're both upset about something different. and still, you don't really understand, but it doesn't seem like they're going to explain anything further. 

why would they when they can just keep arguing?

you purse your lips, closing your eyes for a moment, trying not to laugh. 

really, if they wanted you to take them seriously they shouldn’t have grown up to be so cute. they shouldn't look like that. 

harsh, angry breaths fill the room as the two of them wait for your instruction. you should probably be able to fix this problem immediately--you could by sending them both to their rooms and forcing them apart--but you'd rather talk this through. 

plus you don't want either of them to think too hard about any of it. you hate it when you fight with satoru and take a break, just to linger in that anger like a quicksand you can’t pull out of. 

“okay,” you say, once there’s a moment of silence. “i know you’re both upset.” 

“i’m not—“ you look at megumi and he stops, little frown on his little face. his cheeks are red in indignation, and he's got clenched fists. you can tell that he wants to say something, maybe to you, maybe to tsumiki, but he won't.

you ruffle his hair. “it’s fine to be upset with each other,” you tell him, looking to tsumiki, her face entirely sad. “but going back and forth isn’t going to solve the problem, okay? and neither is saying anything just to hurt each other's feelings.” 

“but he just—“ you shake your head, wishing with everything in you that you could go get one of satoru’s blindfolds right now. 

it physically hurts to look at them, they're so precious. 

you are a terrible mother for finding this moment slightly amusing. to be fair, you spend far too much time with satoru, and deflection is a family trait. 

you finger tsumiki’s hair, pushing it from her eyes. “should we take a break?” you ask them both. “or do you want to talk about it now?”

“break,” megumi says, immediately.

“talk about it now,” tsumiki answers, at the same time. 

for two people who are so alike, they sure think differently. you want to smile at the very predictable answers but refrain.

“okay…” you pause, thinking. “tsumiki, why don’t you tell us why you’re upset? megumi will do the same, and then we can take a break, or keep going.” 

they both glare at each other. 

“and nothing mean," you add because it feels necessary. 

tsumiki sniffs. “everyone at school says that you’re cruel,” she tells him, a devastating pout on her face. “and i don’t like that. you’re my brother, and i want people to like you like i do.” 

you both look at megumi, waiting. 

he's silent for a moment, processing his sister's words, but then he’s got a scowl on his face. “i don’t care what they think, they’re all stupid anyway—“ 

“megumi.” 

he looks at you, pleading blue eyes. you can see that tsumiki got under his skin, but you shake your head. 

“see?” tsumiki complains, voice high-pitched. “he’s always—“ 

you wipe away a tear, nodding. “i know, sweetie, but it’s his turn. you can go next.”

you turn to megumi, wanting to laugh at his annoyed face. “don’t call your classmates names," you say, giving him a look. "it's your turn. tell tsumiki why you’re upset, megumi.” 

he sighs again, looking towards the floor. he kicks at the hardwood, shaking his head. “i don’t like it when you baby me. i don’t need you to defend me, or try and take care of me at school. i’m fine.” 

tsumiki swallows, not saying anything. 

you look between the two of them, trying to read the complex emotions of your almost-teenagers. unfortunately, they're closed off from you, and you can only guess. 

both of your hands rest on one of their shoulders, squeezing. “do you both want to answer? or should we sit down for a bit? i can make a snack or something. it might be good to cool off." 

you say it mostly for yourself, because, honestly, any second you're going to break. 

the two children look at each other, communicating telepathically, and then they nod.

“you should treat everyone respectfully,” tsumiki says, as an answer. “even if you don’t care what they think, you should still be nice.” 

megumi frowns. “if i don’t want to talk to someone, i shouldn’t have to.” 

“but you just told her to go away. she probably feels bad now, and—“ 

“i don’t even know her," megumi interrupts, brows furrowing. 

okay, so maybe you should've separated them a couple of minutes ago. 

“chiyo's my friend!” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “just because she’s your friend doesn’t mean she has to be mine.” 

“but you were mean.” 

you look between the two of them, megumi annoyed and tsumiki frustrated. 

“okay, kids.” you breathe out, wishing you had a brother to fight with, just so you knew what it felt like. just so you could be a part of this argument. “i know you’re both mad, and you disagree. that’s fine. let’s take some space, breathe, maybe i can—“

“just because you think i was being mean doesn’t mean that i was," megumi blurts out, like he can't hold it in.  

you pause, mouth opening. you're about to say something, but you don't get the chance.

“if everyone doesn’t like you,” tsumiki argues, “then it’s because you’re mean.” 

“maybe they just suck.” 

“they don’t suck. this is—“

and then it all breaks down.

“well well,” satoru peeks his head around the corner, white hair a shock to all three of you. “look who’s falling apart without me.”

you sigh immediately, a hand against your temple. of course he would come in at the worst moment possible. “satoru, please go back out the door. i'm sure you forgot something at the store."

the two kids look at satoru, neither one of them happy to see him. there's a similar fire in their eyes, and you know that if he hadn't shown up they would've continued arguing until you pulled them apart. 

he walks over to you, slinging an arm across your shoulder. his grin is far too self-satisfactory. "what'd you do?" he asks, tapping you. 

"i didn't do anything," you tell him, "leave them alone. they're working it out." 

"by yelling at each other?" 

you push his arm off of you, glaring. "you just walked in at a bad moment--" 

you say something else, telling him to get out again, and satoru laughs back at you, asking if you missed him, and neither of you seems to realize that the two kids are just staring at you.

megumi and tsumiki share a look, like this is a typical occurrence (it is), then shake their heads at the same time, like an echo of each other. 

their faces have cooled, scowls fading as you and satoru bicker. 

tsumiki sighs and megumi scratches the back of his neck, and for a moment, they both avoid each other's eyes. 

but eventually, you and satoru look back at them. 

"i don't want to talk anymore," megumi tells all of you, beginning to walk away. satoru tries to grab the back of his shirt to keep him in place, but megumi just shrugs him off. 

and then he walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door gently, clearly no longer bothered by anything tsumiki said. or maybe too bothered. 

but, you think, at least he didn't slam the door. 

you can recall yourself telling satoru to give him space, to let megumi deal with his emotions as he pleases before you force him back into the spotlight, to apologize or hug tsumiki, or... 

you blink and look back at her. she's still got a small pout on her face, but her eyes have relaxed, as red-rimmed as they are. you know, and tsumiki knows, that she's really just worried about him. trying to protect him in her own, sisterly way. 

and, really, there's not much you can teach her about that. 

so you just smile gently at tsumiki, wiping away some moisture from her face. "just give him a bit, hmm? let him think." 

she sighs but relaxes into your hand for a moment, her shoulders slouching as she gives into defeat. and then tsumiki shrugs at you, agreeing despite herself, and walks over to satoru to give him half of a hug. 

it's not a moment later that she follows megumi and walks down the hall, escaping to her room. you both listen as her door closes.

"wow," satoru whispers, shaking his head. "you did a number on them." 

"they had a fight about school," you say, nudging him. "i had no part in any of it. i just walked in." 

he wraps two arms around the back of your neck, smiling eagerly at you. "so what you're saying is, it isn't your fault?" 

he's mocking himself, and the reoccurring events that happen when you leave him in charge. which you've sworn to never do again, by the way. 

you scoff. "when i get home you've started all the problems," you tell him, shaking your head. "they're fighting because you instigated something." 

"we're communicating." 

"whatever."

satoru quirks a brow at you, eyes just barely visible behind his glasses. "the parenting books aren't doing much for you, are they?" he asks, rhetorically. 

"you realize i caught you with those in your room multiple times right? i know you read them." 

"you'll never prove it," he says, smiling maliciously. 

"and neither will your parenting skills." 

satoru snorts, nudging his nose against yours in an odious way. "clearly, you guys can't last a day without me." 

"it wasn't a day," you argue, shivering at his touch. "more like an hour. you just went to the store..." you pause, tilting your head at him. "and where are the groceries, by the way?" 

satoru looks away, hands tapping on the back of your neck, humming innocently. "oh, i might've... slightly misplaced those." 

"satoru." 

"i got distracted--but it's not my fault. there's a new kakigori shop down the block." 

you look at him blandly. 

satoru, because he cannot be trusted, smiles sweetly at you as he places a peck on your lips, as a sort of apology. 

obviously, you don't return it. not even in the slightest.

satoru hums as he pulls back, already knowing that he's won. "so, i'll just get dinner..." he says, grinning at you. 

you roll your eyes but wrap your hands around his neck, letting a little smile fall across your face. 

*

you and satoru are sitting on the couch when you see megumi creeping down the hall, on his tiptoes, purposefully not looking at the two of you. 

it's been an hour or two, the silence echoing across the house almost a bad omen. 

but you decided not to bother either of them. considering the fact that you still don't know why they were really fighting, or why they didn't just talk about it like they usually would, it seemed like the best option. 

and also, satoru shouldn't be involved in any conflict resolution. he'd probably suggest wrestling it out in the backyard. 

still, as you watch him pass by, you lean away from satoru, your legs completely tangled in his. you stretch your neck to watch him, relying on satoru's hand around your waist to keep you steady, but he's too far down the hall for you to see where he's going. 

but a moment later, you hear him knock on a door, and then a small, quiet voice telling him to come in. 

you relax back against satoru, already grinning proudly. "see? i fixed it." 

satoru laughs, his breath soft against your temple. "you didn't do anything. megumi just felt guilty." 

"well, i taught him that." 

satoru noses the side of your head. "mmm, i'm pretty sure i did." 

"of course you didn't." 

he shakes you a little, as a punishment for your words, but sighs. "what were they fighting about anyway?" 

"megumi was mean to one of tsumiki's friends, i think. i missed... pretty much all of it." 

"who?" 

you frown. "chiyo?" 

satoru snorts a little, and you shift to look at him, raising your brow. "megumi mentioned her."

you turn even more, eyes wide. you poke his cheek with a finger, and then wave for him to continue.  

satoru groans, fingers trailing through your hair. "he said that he overheard some girls talking about 'miki." 

"behind her back?" 

satoru smiles, a bit sadly, nodding. 

"oh." 

"yeah, oh." 

you frown. “what did they say?”

satoru licks his lips, watching your eyes as you concentrate on him. “dunno. megumi wouldn’t tell me.”

you roll your eyes. “of course not,” you say, sighing. “and he didn’t tell her?”

satoru winces. "okay, so… maybe i told him not to,” he whispers, like a confession, voice going a bit high at the end. and then he laughs at your annoyed expression. "what? i didn't want her to get sad." 

you shake your head at him, tsking. 

you could scold him for protecting tsumiki, but you know that you probably would've done the same. 

so you just turn back towards the hallway, resting your head against his shoulder. after a moment, satoru nuzzles himself into your neck, humming against your skin. 

it's a very unpleasant feeling. 

"do you think i should go get them for dinner?" you ask him, quietly. 

"nah," he kisses the side of your neck, looking down the hall with you. "give them a little while." 

and it's about twenty minutes later that the two siblings walk back into the living room, megumi's lip quirked at tsumiki, and tsumiki beaming back.

after all, you and satoru have taught them well. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[wileys-russo]

Writing challenge idea 🙂

Georgia Stanway “fake dating” like a holidate idea for a wedding - like the anyone but you movie trope if that makes sense! 🙂🙂🙂

georgia stanway

“and you looked over everything i sent you?” you stressed, clutching tightly onto the girls hand who rolled her eyes. “yes! i do know how to be a girlfriend ya know? ive done it once or twice.” georgia teased which did nothing to ease your nerves.

“i know, but have you ever been a fake girlfriend?” you challenged as she pulled a face unable to argue with you. “why is this so important to ya anyway?” she asked as the uber neared the venue and you sighed.

“its not, its just been years of the teasing and the questions and the jokes about everyone else having a partner but me. really makes these events quite insufferable!” you admitted as georgia smiled sympathetically.

"i'm sorry." the english girl squeezed your knee with her free hand as a beat of silence passed.

“so you remember how we met?” you quizzed her, snapping back out of it as georgia recounted the story like clockwork and you nodded, the uber pulling up outside the venue where your cousins engagement party was being held.

you thanked the driver and jumped out of the car as georgia followed, taking your hand again as the two of you made your way toward the entrance. "if you don't know how to answer a question just pretend you don't speak any german." you paused and warned her.

"i don't speak very much german." georgia reminded with an amused smile, trying to calm your obvious nerves. "oh right. perfect! keep it that way." you squeezed her hand and took a deep breath, entering the venue as within seconds there was family members swarming you.

georgia sent you a pleading look as you smiled apologetically, the poor girl whisked away by a few of your cousins for interrogation no doubt as your grandmother tugged you aside for a talk.

you were on edge and getting more nervous by the second as it seemed you and georgia were destined to be apart, the english girl paraded around meeting all your extended family and friends by your sister who was the only family member you'd keyed into your plan, trusting her with your life.

"well well well, that would not be stanway over there pretending to be your girlfriend now would it?" your blood ran cold at the familiar voice, hands settling on your shoulders as you sighed in defeat. "what are you doing here? i thought you couldn't make it." you groaned as laura took a seat beside you with a smirk.

"hey! is that anyway to greet your favourite cousin now schnecke?" the blonde teased, the childhood nickname falling off her tongue as you shot her a glare. "please don't tell anyone." you pleaded, hating how you needed to stoop to her level.

"what do i get out of this?" the footballer grinned as you shook your head, you should have known better than to assume this would happen without bribery. "what do you want lau?" you asked with an annoyed frown.

"mmm you let me score next time you play us." the girl grinned as you scoffed, not even going to entertain her request as a loyal bayern player. "no you are right. that will happen anyway because i have always been a better striker than you are a defender!" laura waved it off as you rolled your eyes.

"i want three packets of balla stix and you room with me next national camp." laura demanded as you eagerly agreed, shaking her hand as she stood. "pleasure doing business kid." she smacked your cheek three times with her hand doing a terrible mobster accent and sauntered off.

"was that laura?" you jumped as georgia dropped down into the seat she'd previously occupied, eyes wide with nerves you'd both been caught out. "its sorted, don't worry. are you okay? my family can be...a lot." you bit your lip guiltily.

"i'm a bit worried your aunties going to try and steal my identity. was just waitin for her to ask for me bank details!" georgia shook her head clicking her tongue as you smiled, nerves easing.

finally left alone the two of you fell into conversation, georgias hand resting on your knee as she scooted her chair closer to be able to hear you over the music, the two of you laughing and messing about like normal.

"we've got an audience." the girl whispered in your ear as you turned your head and jumped seeing your grandmother stood right there. she made a comment in german causing your cheeks to heat up as georgia watched on dumbfounded as the older woman pinched your cheek and walked off again.

"what did she say?" georgia asked with a frown. "she said she hopes you are a better footballer than you are a liar." you sighed with a small smile, you should have known that of all people the hardest to fool would have been her.

"hey i thought i was doin well!" georgia protested with a huff as you laughed, catching the watching eyes of a few more of your cousins from another table. "you are, trust me. best fake girlfriend i've ever had!" you teased, kissing her cheek with a grin.

"well in that case. how about you let me take ya on a real date?" you were taken aback by her question, the midfielders cheeks blushed bright red as she bounced her knee nervously.

"really?" "really."

"yeah, i'd like that." you both exchanged a shy smile, laura appearing again and pulling you both up to dance.

[desperate-gay]

could i request bestfriends to lovers w mapi (possibly w smut)

Costumes

Mapi Leon x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

“-Ria please!”

“No! There is no way I’m dressing up, especially as a pirate.” Mapi exclaims, continuing to scroll through her phone. You turn around from the full-body mirror and slump on the bed next to the older girl.

“But it’s a costume party with the team. We can’t show up bare.” You protest while placing your chin on her chest, making her look down at you, seeing your pleading eyes stare back at her.

She turns off her phone and places it next to her before sighing, “Hermosa, I don’t want to dress up. Can’t we just stay in and watch movies together like tradition?”

Ever since you were little, one of you would go to the other’s house and watch a bunch of Halloween movies while stuffing your face with junk. The two of you have been best friends for years, and now you both play for Barcelona together. You’re both attached to the hip.

Without your knowledge, Mapi has been in love with you for some time now. If you weren’t painfully oblivious, you might have been able to figure it out a while ago.

So seeing you give her your best puppy eyes while pleading for her to do this with you, she has no other choice and mumbles, “Fine.”

“Seriously?” You jump up from your spot with a bright smile on your face, making the other girl melt.

“You better get the costumes before I change my mind.” She grumbles, going back to her phone but secretly smiling when you run out of the room to grab the costumes from your car.

—

“Ay dios mio, I look like an idiot!” Mapi exclaims as she tugs on the brown coat and white collar of the shirt.

She’s cut off when you open the bathroom door and walk out in a white shoulder-less shirt with a brown corset over it, matching the blonde’s coat, and a red long skirt with a matching bandana. The corset that tightens right below your chest allows your boobs to pop out more, distracting the older girl.

You notice her raking her eyes up and down your figure. “What? Does it look okay?”

Mapi snaps out of her thoughts and nods her head. “Y-yeah, you look…great.” She stops her complaints about her costume as she drools over how good she looks.

“Not too bad yourself sailor.” You giggle while adjusting her hat, making the other girl’s breath hitch. “Are we ready?”

The blonde sighs and begrudgingly nods her head. “You sure we have to go?”

“Yes, now come on Grump Sparrow, we’ve got treasure to find.” Mapi groans as you grab the side of her coat, dragging her with you to the awaiting car.

When you both arrive at the club, you see your Barca teammates all in a rounded booth with their designated costumes on. Multiple people are dancing on the floor dressed as devils, angels, cats, etc.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe my eyes. Mapi dressed as a pirate? Someone start taking photos!” Lucy yells while searching for her phone, making the rest of the team laugh while Mapi rolls her eyes as you pat her arm in fake sympathy, laughing with the rest of your friends.

“Okay, okay, get all your laughs out. I’m going to start drinking, do you want anything?” She asks you, in which you nod in return. “The usual?”

Once you nod again, Mapi heads over to the bar to get your drinks. You take a seat next to Alexia at the end of the booth and across from Ona.

“Hola, amiga.” Alexia greets you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders. You return her greeting and start a conversation with her while waiting for Mapi. “Y’know, Maria wouldn’t wear matching costumes for just anyone.”

Alexia is the only person who knows about your deep crush on the defender. Her being captain and also being very observant has its perks, so she easily picked up on your always flustered state around your childhood friend.

“Um, what do you mean?”

Alexia sighs at your obliviousness and says, “Oh I don’t know, maybe that she feels the same way!”

“No. There’s no way!” You both begin to whisper, bickering at each other until Mapi returns, sitting down right next to you.

“Here you go, hermosa.” Taking your drink, you smile at her but notice her focus on Alexia. Then you remember the weight on your shoulders, Alexia’s arm still wrapped around you, making the blonde next to you glare at the other woman. As the tension thickens, the arm around you removes itself from you, stopping the consistent looks.

You clear your throat and thank Mapi, soon sipping on your drink to get drunk faster. Alexia’s foot stomps on yours, telling you that the jealousy is clear.

Soon conversations start getting weird, drinks go down faster and faster, and everyone gets more tipsy as the night goes on. The whole team is on the dance floor besides you and Alexia who continue to sip on your drinks while watching everyone.

“So when are you going to tell her?”

“Ale, I don’t know if I can. I don’t want to ruin 23 years of friendship because of a stupid crush. I’ll get over it.” You shrug, causing the pink-haired girl next to you to frown.

“She feels the same. Trust me, you saw the way she reacted when she saw us.”

You just sigh in response and think about all the things that can happen. You can confess in hopes of her returning your feelings or you can get rejected and risk losing your number one person. Your thoughts are stopped by said person coming over to you, pulling your arm towards her.

“C’mon, hermosa! Time to dance!” Mapi shouts over the booming music as she pulls you onto the crowded dance floor. You down your drink in one gulp and begin to sway your hips and arms to the music with the older girl.

The alcohol floods through both of your veins as you start to grind on your best friend. Her hands grip on your hips, guiding you to keep going. Soon you turn back around and grab at her biceps.

“Maybe you should be called Jacked Sparrow.” You tease with a lopsided grin, making the other girl laugh.

“If you’re Swann, I want to be Turner.” Your breath hitches as her face gets closer to you; her eyes flickering down to your lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

In a trance, you nod your head and allow her to drag you through the crowd, stumbling occasionally from getting pushed. You take one glance over your shoulder and see Alexia with a smirk on her face, raising her glass in fake cheers.

—

You fiddle with your keys, trying to get your door open while Mapi hugs your waist from behind and breathes against your ear, making you shudder against her.

Finally, the click of the lock allows you both to push open the door and rush in. You giggle when Mapi’s hand wraps around your wrist and drags you to the couch. She sits down first and grabs the back of your thighs, trying to pull you into her lap which she succeeds in. Your skirt rides up to allow your legs to sit on each side of the girl's thighs. She leans up, stopping centimeters before your lips, her hat long gone so it doesn’t poke at you.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes it’s okay, please just kiss me.”

She smiles before finally attaching her lips to yours in a soft kiss. You have imagined this more times than you’d like to admit, but it’s so much better than your imagination. The kiss starts sweet and innocent but soon turns more needy and sloppy. You pause and pull back, wincing which worries the blonde defender below you.

“What? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” She quickly rambles but stops when you wave her off.

“No, no it’s just this corset. It’s poking at my boobs.”

You both begin to laugh together while she moves her hand to your back and unties it to loosen it. Once she is done pulling all the strings she unbuttons the front and takes it off before throwing it somewhere on the floor.

“So back to kissing?” She asks, puckering her lips and squeezing her eyes shut, making you giggle at her antics. She smiles at the sound before placing her hands on the back of your neck and pulling you down to reattach your lips.

Your fingertips brush along the tattoo on her neck as she slips her tongue into your mouth. You turn your head slightly, deepening the kiss while your other hand grips onto her bicep. Her head moves down to the underside of your jaw, peppering kisses down the column of your throat, making you dig your nails into her arm while your other wraps around the back of her neck. She hisses at the burning sensation of your fingers gripping her skin, but it turns her on even more.

“Bedroom?” You whisper, pecking her lips a few times. She nods and stands up, carrying you with her as you wrap your legs around her waist.

She gently sits you on the bed while she takes off her leather coat. The street light from outside gleams into the bedroom, allowing you to have just enough light without having to turn on any lamps. You start to unbutton her shirt under her gaze. She lets you tug off her clothes, enjoying the sight of it, but when you unbuckle her belt while staring up at her with puppy eyes, it makes her go feral. She pulls down her pants, leaving her in a bra and underwear, and then grabs your face, pulling you into a heated kiss.

“You are so beautiful.”

You blush at her comment and pull off your bandana as Mapi starts to pull at the hem of your shirt. Getting the message, you tug your arms out the sleeves of the shirt, helping out the desperate girl who quickly lifts it over your head as soon as she can. Shortly after, she yanks down your skirt, revealing your matching white set of simple lingerie which you put on before leaving, hoping that something like this would happen by the end of the night.

Mapi signals for you to move up the bed so she can fit on with you. She hovers over you and leans down for a breathtaking kiss, slotting your bottom lip in between yours before playfully tugging at it while pulling away. She places a simple kiss right below your ear before her hand gently grabs your jaw and turns your head all the way to the side, pressing your cheek against the silky sheets. You moan at the feeling of her tongue sliding from the base of your neck up to the bottom of your ear.

“Don’t worry, amor. I’m going to make you feel so good.” She whispers, her breath fanning over the side of your face, making butterflies flutter in your stomach, but also making the ache between your legs stronger.

Her hand trails under you and onto your back, grasping the clasp of your bra. She looks at you real quick, quietly asking for consent. “It’s okay, baby. I want this, I want this really bad.”

She unhooks your bra and slides it off of you, flinging it on the floor. She sits up slightly, admiring how good you are right now with your chest heaving and your hair spewed out across the bed.

“Gorgeous.” She says softly before moving her lips to your beck once again. Her teeth sink into your skin once in a while, definitely leaving marks littered along your neck. An occasional whine slips out from your lips at the slightest sensation of her mouth.

Soon she starts to trail her lips lower and onto your chest, wrapping her lips around your hardened nipple while her hand gropes the other one. She switches sides, giving the other the same attention as she gave the one before.

The noises from your mouth become more frequent the closer she gets down to your core. She’s now leaving kisses around your belly button and over the fabric of your white panties. You buck your hips up with a moan when she licks a stripe up your clothed slit as your hands grip harder into the sheets.

“Please, Ria.”

“Tell me what you want, amor, and I’ll make it worth your while.” She taunts sultrily, teasingly placing kisses on your underwear.

“Anything, your fingers, mouth, anything.” You plead, continuing to buck your hips closer to her face.

Her fingers curl at the waistband of the white fabric and slowly pulls it down while trailing kisses with it. You whine in anticipation but are cut off by a loud moan slipping past your lips when her mouth attaches to your clit. She licks down to your slit and gathers up your arousal before dipping her tongue into your dripping hole.

Your back arches slightly as moans spew out of your mouth consistently. Mapi flips from thrusting her tongue in and out of you to sucking and flicking your clit. She sits up for a second, causing you to whine at the absence of your pleasure, so when you look up you see her tying her blonde hair up into a ponytail so it doesn’t get in her way. Her arms wrap around your thighs, allowing her hands to press against the top of them while she shoves her face further into your pussy.

She continues on her previous assault, making your orgasm approach a lot faster than you thought. The girl in between your legs notices when your moans become louder and your back arches higher, causing her to press one of her hands on your stomach to shove you down. Your hand subconsciously scratches her arm in pleasure as she flicks her tongue faster over your clit.

With one final push, you’re moaning loudly and seeing stars while Mapi continues to gently lick until your high is over.

“T-that was amazing.” You pant after experiencing one of the best orgasms you have ever experienced.

“Oh, we’re not done yet, princesa.”

You’re about to question her when you’re interrupted by her fingers plunging into you. She’s now kneeling on her knees while her unoccupied hand holds your thigh open, giving her easier access. Your hips slightly shy away from her touch due to overstimulation, but that doesn’t stop you from the euphoric pleasure you’re receiving.

The sound of your wetness can be heard echoing in the room from the blonde’s fingers working at a fast pace in and out of you. You both know you’re not going to last long since you’re still recovering from the last orgasm she gave you.

“Oh god, I-I’m gonna cum. It feels different though.” Mapi senses the worry in your voice but knows exactly what’s happening.

“Just let go, amor. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

With a few more strokes of her fingers, your inner muscles tense as you cum. The sound of her digits slamming into you begins to sound different, wetter in your opinion. Your orgasm lasts longer than you expect as you moan extremely loudly, probably waking up the neighbors.

Once you’ve calmed down, Mapi removes her fingers and you look down between your legs to see a huge wet spot.

You cover your face with your hands and groan out, “This is so embarrassing! Did I just wet the bed during sex?”

The blonde chuckles before grabbing your hands to remove them from your face. “No you didn’t wet the bed, have you never done that before?”

You shake your head no in response and ask, “What happened?”

“You squirted is what they call it I guess. It’s basically when you experience a very intense orgasm.” She explains while you nod your head in understanding. “Felt good didn’t it?”

“Really good.” You giggle before nuzzling your face into the girl’s chest. She laughs lightly and kisses your forehead as she wraps her arms gently around your frame. You start to tiptoe your hand to the clasp of her bra before you are cut off by a stern look. “What? I want you to feel good too, baby.”

“I do feel good. Right now, with you in my arms.”

“But-“

“Hey, we got all the time in the world to go again, if you let me take you on a date?” Her usual silly and cocky behavior is shifted to a more nervous tone as she bites her lip, waiting for your answer.

“I think we’re past the first date phase, Ria. I have been in love with you for so long.”

“I’ve been in love with you for I don’t even know how long.” Mapi breathes in relief, making you smile widely and leaning up for a passionate kiss. You both soak in everything that just happened and pour all your emotions into this single kiss. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You laugh at the vibration of her mumbling into your lips, but you all but nod in return, causing the both of you to smile into the kiss.

“Alexia is going to be so happy this finally happened.”

“Wait- she knew about your feelings for me?” You ask in disbelief.

“Well duh, I was pretty obvious and she sees all knows all. The whole team basically knows. You’re just oblivious.”

“Am not.” You pout which makes the blonde pull you back into her chest.

“Awe don’t pout, amor. You’re my oblivious girl.” Mapi tries to reason as you huff in response.

“Ale knew about my feelings too.”

“What?!”

[erinfern0]

simon "ghost" riley as a father

dad!simon spent endless hours building the tiny furniture and painting the nursery walls. Of course, all the equipment was picked by you, as he didn't really have a taste for those things. If he were to choose, the room would end up looking like shit.

dad!simon who smiled the whole time as you folded the new clothes and blankets, stealing some of them to feel the fuzzy material, so calming to his growing anxiety.

dad!simon dreamed of this day for so long, but couldn't help the knot in his stomach at the idea of actually being a father. The fear of turning out to be the same as his old man was disgusting, but never left his mind.

dad!simon who discussed every thought and decision with his therapist, making sure he was really prepared. Coming back after every session, he'd sit down with you and discuss everything, being so happy to feel your touch and reassuring words.

dad!simon who thinks it's a true miracle that he lived so long to carry his little kid home. Holding their tiny body in his arms, the love of his life beside him as he stepped into the house.

and now:

girldad!simon who is completely smitten with his little girl, those huge eyes staring at him as if he was some sort of angel.

girldad!simon spends his free time studying how to style her hair, different ponytails and braids, all depending on his princess's wishes

girldad!simon who lets her color in all of his tattoos, watching her trembly hands holding the newest set of body markers.

girldad!simon who teaches her how to defend herself from a very young age, starting with simple lessons on assertiveness and boundaries, through various self-defend practices.

girldad!simon who spoils her rotten, he just can't deny that pouty little face whenever he tells her no. He has his limits, but most of the time she gets all the dresses, toys, and ribbons she gets.

girldad!simon gets a tattoo of her favorite stuffed animal somewhere on his body.

girldad!simon who encourages her passions, especially when it comes to sports because that's one of the few he has any expertise on. He spends a lot of time getting to know others, so he always has topics to talk about.

girldad!simon who feels pity towards any possible love interest that might even think of hurting his little girl.

girldad!simon is often seen walking around the park, holding her hand at all times. All his scary mysteriousness disappears the moment she talks to him, Simon just turns into the sweetest parent in seconds.

girldad!simon always kneels down in front of her so she feels taller.

girldad!simon will watch any show or movie she wants, doesn't matter how 'girly' it is. Secretly enjoys Barbie movies.

girldad!simon watching her grow up and getting into make-up makes him feel very happy, but nostalgic. Reminding himself that not so long ago she was running around and playing with little bugs.

girldad!simon who always drives her around, a personal taxi driver whenever she wants to hang out with her friends.

and:

boydad!simon who focuses on making sure his boy doesn't pick the same field of work as him, no matter how much his boy idolizes him.

boydad!simon who spends most of his time with his son outside, running, playing soccer, or building him some DIY shelters around the house with branches, leaves, and stones. (my ass can't get this out of my head, such a stereotypical polish childhood)

boydad!simon who adores his boy's interest in the military, but like I said, always reminds him to pick something else. This doesn't stop him from spending hours talking about little details and stories.

boydad!simon spoils him by buying him little cars, wooden models, and sports equipment.

boydad!simon makes sure not to push his boy too much into the toxic masculinity he had to grow up with. His son can be as expressive and sensitive as he wants, there's no one to stop him.

boydad!simon who becomes his son's best friend and savior whenever he has nightmares.

boydad!simon tries to be on-trend with electronic devices, spending lots of time to learn how to play his son's favorite video games whenever the little one is asleep, so he can help him if he struggles with a mission/achievement.

boydad!simon who has to make sure his son is a responsible person, giving him adequate punishments so he doesn't think there are no consequences to his actions.

boydad!simon studies dinosaurs just because his son finds them oh so cool. After reading some articles, he finds himself fascinated with them too, sharing all the facts and sources for them.

overall:

dad!simon would do anything to keep his child safe. He'd let the world burn if it meant his little one was the happiest kid on the planet.

dad!simon gets anxious if his kids don't answer him immediately, so he made sure their phones have their locations turned on all the time.

dad!simon doesn't argue with you around the kids, any serious discussion is only between the two of you, so in case emotions take over they never witness it.

dad!simon thinks it's crucial to show up, so he rushes from his deployment to make it to his child's school play or graduation, just to be able to support them.

dad!simon encourages his kids to go and see a psychologist, even if they don't struggle with much. He understands that there are just things important to talk about, but the kid might not want to open up in front of their parents about everything.

dad!simon turned out to be the father his old man could never be. In his kids' eyes, he's a true hero and the best dad they could have.

masterlist | request info

[heyftinally]

April 30th is the Day of the Homeschooled Child

I was one of the 1.7 million children homeschooled in the USA.

I am also one of Homeschool's Invisible Children.

I was heavily restricted at home - I was barred from nearly everything that my peers were connecting with. I had incredibly limited access to movies and TV, even more restricted internet access, and was even barred from many of the same toys my peers played with. This on top of my academic isolation made socializing very hard.

I didn't relate to my peers socially.

Children younger than me were more academically advanced than me.

I was socially unaware, and frequently missed jokes or made faux pas comments because I didn't understand how to interact with peers.

My ADHD went untreated my entire childhood.

And the issues were not only social. Despite living in a state that boasted some of the most rigorous checks for homeschooled students, I was missed. My portfolios every year were falsified - much of what they claimed I had learned I had little to no understanding of.

By the time I graduated high school "with honors" (that I did not earn and were entirely false), this is a brief list of some of my academic failings:

I had never written an essay, and did not know how

I did not know how to do a critical analysis of a piece of text or media

I was incapable of math above a 4th/5th grade level

I could not tell time on an analog clock

I could not identify more than ~5 states on a map of the United States

I could not identify more than ~5 countries on a map of the world/globe

I could not spell above a ~6th grade level

I did not know that there was proof of life on earth prior to dinosaurs

I did not know that the lymphatic system was real

And so much more.

I entered college woefully unequipped for both the academic and socal demands that were placed on me. At 18, I was closer to as 14 year old, social/emotionally. Academically I was much worse.

I had to work three times as hard as my peers to achieve the same results, battled my still-undiagnosed ADHD as well as my academic and social neglect.

I didn't fully know who I even was as a person, due to spending so many years being expected to fit a specific ideal that was enforced upon me 24/7 through the isolation of homeschooling.

This April 30th, I'm wearing green for Homeschool's Invisible Children - for children like me.

If you are a child experiencing homeschool neglect, please know that you are not alone. There are resources available to you, and your future is not doomed just because your guardians failed to educate you. I'm listing some resources below that may be of help to you.

Homeschool alumni/survivors who resonate with this story: we deserved better. We deserved education. We deserved freedom. It's okay if you're angry at your past. It's okay if you're grieving the life you might have had without homeschooling. It's okay if you're conflicted. I hope you're able to find closure and healing in whatever form that means for you.

And, because I know it unfortunately needs to be said, if you're an ex-homeschooler or a homeschool parent who feels the need to jump on this post and defend yourself, I need you to step back, sit down, delete your comment, and sit with why you feel so attacked by our truth.

This is not a personal attack on you - this is abuse survivors speaking up to prevent further abuse. It is not your place to tell us we should be silent.

"But homeschoolers test better and are more successful!" I'm sure you're dying to say. To wave your statistics at me.

And you would be wrong. Because here's the problem with those statistics.

Let's pretend we have ten homeschooled children and ten public schooled children.

All ten of the public schooled children take a school assessment. Because some excel at different things than others, the public school students average out to an 85.

Only four of the homeschooled children take the assessment. Of the other six, one is traveling with their family during the assessment, two are not permitted because their parents know they aren't up to grade level and fear backlash or judgement, two are mentally or physically disabled and so their parents don't feel the test will adequately display their knowledge, and the last hasn't received any kind of education in years because their parents keep them at home either doing chores, working a job, caring for siblings, or they are simply neglected and spend all day hungry and scared.

Of the four homeschooled children that do take the assessment, they do quite well, as their parents knew/suspected they would. Their average score is a 98.

A 98 is better than an 85, yes. But just because 4 out of 6 homeschooled children were above the public school average does not mean homeschooling is automatically better. If you tested the top four public school students, they might very well score a 98 as well.

However, if you included those other six homeschooled students, the average homeschool score would very likely be something closer to a 45.

So when we talk about Homeschool's Invisible Children, we're talking about those six that never got the chance to take an assessment. Those six who never had a chance to tell a teacher "I'm ten and I don't know how to read". Those six who may not even realize how far behind their peers they are. Those six who deserved to have access to supports so that they could learn in ways that actually met their needs.

So while your statistics look good on paper, they are not honest. They do not present the full picture of homeschooling. Listen to the homeschool survivors who were one of those six kids who never got to make their voices heard. We have a voice now - don't try and take it from us.

Resources for current homeschool students and alumni:

Khan Academy - basically free online self paced K-12 classes. They have fantastic explanation videos for the lessons, you can review them whenever you want, and you don't have to stay in the same grade level for every subject - great if you're trying to catch up and you're in 6th grad for English but 2nd for math. They have courses besides just core classes (math/english/science/etc), too! They run on donations, but it's completely free to use. Also, this site is used in my local public school system to supplement the existing curriculum, so it's not just for homeschoolers!

Coalition for Responsible Home Education - actively fighting for more oversight and restrictions on homeschooling in the USA. They mostly do awareness and advocacy, but they also have resources on their site for things like what to do if you don't have a high school transcript. They run on donations, but the information is freely available.

Probably the most famous resource on this list. Videos that give you a "crash course" (aka a condensed overview) of a wide variety of topics. These are best used as supplement to more structured lessons like Khan Academy, but they have a lot of merit on their own if they're all you can manage. Knowing a bit about something is better than knowing nothing about it!

[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby Part 1

a/n: I got this in my head and couldn’t find another fic that mentioned it. This is the first fic I've ever written.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/reader

Warning: brief mentions of car crash and cheating

Word Count: 1100 ish

Summary: Jake must defend his call sign to a stranger, and he is on a timer. 

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You checked the timer on your phone for the third time, sighing at the 32 minutes remaining. One hour, every week, socializing with strangers. That was the deal you made with your therapist. 

Eighteen months after a horrific car crash killed your fiancé and childhood best friend your therapist suggested you ‘get back out there.’ It wasn’t just their deaths that you were working through in your twice monthly therapy sessions. It was the fact that she was blowing him when they crashed. You thought that was something that only happened in movies and tv shows.  Your grief was… complicated. 

So here you were at the bar of the week nursing a whiskey sour until the timer on your phone said you could go home. You surreptitiously glance around. Judging by the uniforms of the other patrons and the décor the Hard Deck was a military bar. You massage your temples and check your phone again, 29 minutes to go. 

“Need some company while you wait for your date?” You glance to your left at the southern drawl. An unfairly handsome man in a uniform with green eyes is looking down at you and you stare a little too long. “I’ve been watching you check your phone,” he explains, “he’s an idiot to keep you waiting.“ 

“I'm not expecting company,” you roll your eyes at him. “But thank you for assuming I’m being stood up. It was definitely the vibe I was going for.” You take another sip of your drink so you have something to do with your hands. 

A slow smile breaks out across his face. “In that case I’m Hangman.”

“I'm sorry your parents hated you.”

At your deadpan response he chuckles. “It’s my call sign,” he explains smugly. “I'm a fighter pilot.” He is easily the most attractive man in the bar and he knows it, and there is something about his inflated ego that makes you want to pop it. Just a little.

“Hangman like the spelling game?” you ask and he nods and brushes your arm, leaning into you.

You hum noncommittally, cocking your head as you look at him. “You know some schools discourage playing hangman.” You tell him. “They don’t want to encourage violence in children so they play Sleepy Baby instead.”

“Sleepy Baby?” He asks in confusion, leaning back.

“Yeah, you draw a baby in a crib instead of a man on the gallows,” you grin at his scandalized expression. “You could change your pilot name to Sleepy Baby, so you don’t scare the children and all.” 

“Darling, you are the only one I’d let call me ‘baby’.” You laugh at his smooth recovery. “What’s your name, beautiful?” He is charming despite his ego and his intense stare is giving you butterflies. 

“Tic-tac-toe.” 

“Imma call you Hugs and Kisses and you can call me Baby.” You can’t help but laugh at his confidence. 

“So if you are not waiting for anyone why are you always checking on your phone?” The pilot sits down beside you leaning forward again so his knees brush against yours. 

You contemplate your answer before deciding that fuck it, you will be at another bar next week and will never see the handsome pilot again so might as well be honest. “My therapist has suggested that I should ‘socialize with adults that are not coworkers or the children I work with.’” You explain. “So one hour a week I must socialize.” You wave your hand vaguely at the bar. 

“Are you one of those teachers banning hangman?” He asks in mock outrage, graciously glossing over most of your explanation. 

“Child Activity Coordinator at a local library actually, but yeah I’ve been know to play a few rounds of Sleepy Baby.” You say with a shrug.“ Some parents get upset at certain things and it’s easier just to avoid it than die on the hill of hangman. Plus there was one little boy who would cry when the man was hung so it was best to avoid the tears.”

“He would cry every time?” The green eyed pilot has a fond smile on his face. 

You nodded. “I mean the same kid also cried when someone stole his imaginary kitten so some things can’t be helped but sometimes it’s just easier to avoid it.” You said with a grin remembering the moment. 

“It’s hard to believe we live in a world where imaginary kittens aren’t even safe.” He shakes his head solemnly and you burst out laughing. The unexpected arrival of the cocky pilot has been a delightful addition to your evening. 

“So one hour a week?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “How much time do I have left?”

You check your phone, “you have 17 minutes, Flyboy.” You grin. “So what made you join the AirForce?”

He looks offended. “Darling, I'm a Naval Aviator.” 

You blink blankly at him. “I was genuinely not aware the Navy had pilots.” 

“The navy has aircraft carriers,” he grins “who do you think flies the planes?”

“Honestly, I never thought about it and I think I just assumed it was a Navy / Air Force cooperation situation.” You trail off still thinking before shrugging. “I guess you learn something new every day.”

“I could teach you something else,” he sends you a flirty wink.

“I think I’ve reached my knowledge quota for the day,” you laugh back. “But what did you learn today?”

“That my call sign breaks the heart of little boys and their stolen imaginary kittens, and I could use a therapist that suggests going to a bar.”

“Good news Sleepy Baby, I don't think you needed the help to make it here.”

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket notifying you that your hour is up and a not so small part of you is disappointed. You pull your phone out and hold up the timer to the pilot in front of you. “That’s time.”

“Can I get your number?” He asks hopefully as you gather your purse and finish your drink. “We could spend the full hour together next time, therapists advice on socializing and all.”

“I’ll pass this time, but next time, who knows?” You say as you stand, feeling a little sad that you will never see him again. 

“As long as you remember, Hugs and Kisses, I’m in the Navy.” 

You look up at him grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll remember.” 

As you leave you walk by the jukebox glancing down and see the perfect song on the track lists. You hit the number grinning to yourself as you walk to the door. 

When you reach the exit you turn around and find the green eyed pilot has made his way back to some others in uniforms at the pool table. “Hey Baby,” you call out over the noise of the bar. You grin when he looks up eagerly as the Village People begins to play over the jukebox. “This song’s for you!”  You shoot him a mock salute as you walk out the door. 

[shitsndgiggs]

Hello there i am new here and love your work so much, this is my first ever request so i hope you could consider writing when you have time.

So the oc and Kenan have know each other since child and their family are also close. Oc have a huge crush on Kenan so did him, but oc is not afraid of showing it so everyone around them friends and family knew about it. They never confess but their actions shows. Kenan have lots of girls pursuing him so oc have moments where she is vey jealous because Kenan is a kind hearted person and talks nicely to them, but Kenan somehow make up to it(?). But.. one day she saw him kiss a beautiful influencer and assume they are dating and oc distance herself from Kenan's life. And Kenan try go win her back and confess to each other.

A little angst with fluff and happy ending please. Thank you <3

JUST US - KENAN YILDIZ

… idk what to write here

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Growing up in a small town, the lines between family and friendship were often blurred. My family and Kenan’s were the epitome of that.

From playdates to family dinners, our lives were intertwined in ways that made it impossible to separate one from the other.

We were always together, whether we liked it or not. But as we grew older, what started as innocent childhood companionship evolved into something more complex—at least, for me.

I don’t remember the exact moment I realized I had a crush on Kenan. Maybe it was when he defended me against a playground bully in third grade, or when he spent a whole weekend helping me finish a school project that was due on Monday.

Or perhaps it was the way he always had this stupid grin on his face whenever he saw me, like seeing me was the best part of his day. Whatever it was, my crush on him grew slowly, steadily, until it became impossible to ignore.

Unlike most people with a secret crush, I didn’t exactly try to hide it. I couldn’t help but blush whenever he was near, and I’d make up the most ridiculous excuses just to spend more time with him.

My friends teased me about it constantly, and our families noticed, too.

They’d exchange knowing looks whenever I gazed a little too long at him, or when I found some flimsy reason to sit next to him at the dinner table. It wasn’t a secret to anyone—except Kenan himself.

Despite my obvious affections, Kenan remained blissfully unaware. He was kind-hearted and warm, with an easygoing nature that drew people to him, especially girls.

And that was the problem.

Even though everyone knew how I felt about him, Kenan never seemed to catch on, or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.

It didn’t help that there were always girls pursuing him, drawn in by his charm and good looks. He never shied away from them, always speaking kindly, his warm nature making him a magnet for attention. I hated it.

Jealousy wasn’t a feeling I was proud of, but it was hard to avoid when Kenan seemed to have a new admirer every week.

He was nice to them, of course—too nice, in my opinion—and I often found myself seething silently as I watched him chat and laugh with girls who were far prettier and more confident than I was.

But just when I’d start to spiral into insecurity, Kenan would do something small but meaningful, like sending me a text to check in or inviting me over to hang out. It was his way of showing he still cared about me, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted.

One time, after I had been particularly distant during a group outing, Kenan surprised me by showing up at my house with my favorite snacks and a dumb movie he knew I loved. We spent the entire evening on my couch, laughing until our sides hurt.

In those moments, it was easy to believe that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way about me. But then I’d see him with another girl, and the doubts would creep back in.

The worst of it happened a few months ago. We were at a mutual friend’s birthday party when I saw him talking to a beautiful influencer who had recently moved to our town.

She was everything I wasn’t—gorgeous, sophisticated, and exuding a confidence that seemed effortless. I tried to stay away, to not let it bother me, but when I saw them kissing in a corner of the backyard, it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.

I don’t remember much of what happened next. I left the party as quickly as I could, my mind reeling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. The next few weeks were a blur. I distanced myself from Kenan, avoiding him at all costs.

He tried to reach out multiple times, but I either ignored his calls or gave him the cold shoulder whenever he tried to talk to me in person. My heart couldn’t take it. If he had moved on with someone else, then I needed to let him go, even if it hurt like hell.

Kenan, however, was persistent. He’d show up at my house with lame excuses, like borrowing a book or asking for advice on something trivial.

Each time, I’d keep my answers short, making it clear that I didn’t want to talk. But he didn’t give up. It was like he couldn’t understand why I was pulling away, and the frustration was evident on his face.

Finally, one evening, I couldn’t take it anymore. He had shown up at my door again, this time with a sad smile and an apology for not calling ahead. I could see the concern etched on his face, but I was too exhausted to pretend everything was fine.

“Kenan, I really don’t have time for this,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“What happened, Y/N? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Did I do something wrong?”

His voice was laced with genuine confusion and concern, and it broke my heart even more.

I wanted to scream, to tell him everything, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I just shook my head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… I need some space.”

His expression softened as he took a step closer. “Is this about that party? The one where I… kissed that girl?”

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of it, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Why would that matter to me? You’re free to do whatever you want, Kenan.”

“But it does matter to you, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The truth was too painful to admit.

Kenan sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you. That kiss… it didn’t mean anything. I was just trying to be polite. It’s nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

My eyes snapped up to meet his. “What?”

He took a deep breath, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between us. “Y/N, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. And then you started avoiding me, and I thought I’d lost my chance.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my mind struggling to process what he was saying. “You… you like me?”

Kenan’s gaze was intense as he nodded. “Yes, I do. More than you know. And seeing you pull away from me has been killing me. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I never did.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of his words finally hit me. All this time, I had been doubting his feelings, assuming the worst, when in reality, he had felt the same way about me all along.

“But… you never said anything,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his own voice breaking slightly. “Scared that I wasn’t good enough for you, that you’d realize you could do better. And then when you started pulling away, I thought maybe I was right.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down my cheeks as I closed the gap between us, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug. “You idiot,” I sobbed into his chest. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Kenan’s arms tightened around me, holding me close as if he never wanted to let go. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t important to me. You’re the most important person in my life.”

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding each other, letting the years of unspoken feelings and misunderstandings melt away.

When we finally pulled back, Kenan cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears.

“I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore,” he said softly, his eyes locked on mine. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m going to spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”

My heart swelled with emotion as I nodded, a smile breaking through the tears. “I love you too, Kenan.”

He leaned in then, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was soft and tender, yet filled with all the passion and love we had kept buried for so long.

It was a kiss that spoke of promises and new beginnings, of a future where we no longer had to hide our feelings from each other.

When we finally pulled apart, Kenan rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I laughed softly, the sound light and carefree. “Probably as long as I’ve wanted you to.”

He chuckled, pulling me back into his arms. “Well, now we don’t have to wait anymore. We’re in this together, okay? No more hiding, no more misunderstandings. Just us.”

“Just us,” I repeated, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

[icarusredwings]

Rewatched Deadpool 1. Took notes.

WARNING: Discussion of mental illness topics, ending yourself, trauma, violence, etc.

Civil debate/ conversation welcomed. Sorry its super long. I think a lot.

Notes:

You know what? We see Wade coloring a lot. What's our status on just giving him cartoons snacks and coloring books? He needs it.

I think we all forget how actually impressive this man is. I just watched this cancer having fucker do like 50 flips.

Whatta man is so Logan Howlett coded.

"Bad deadpool" "good deadpool!"

Deadpool has been helping kids for a while. He terrified a little creep while he himself was a huge creep.

Missed up his words and Vanessa smiled at him. With that "aw hes cute" kinda thing.

When talking about their childhood (whether he's lying or not, hes not about the uncle) and he outdos her so much that she giggles.

The first date he takes her ducking skiiballing instead of yk prostitute stuff

Hes so romantic oh my god.

Theyre giggling and joking like all the time. Personally thanksgiving is my favorite scene before he proposes with a fucking ring pop.

I shouldn't laugh but the way he said "wtf" when passing out

Vanessa instantly jumping to "what can we do? There has to be something" makes me instantly respect her as a chronically ill person myself. Partners who medically defend each other make me so happy because a lot of people divorce their partners when they get "too sick" let alone dont show up to specialist appointments.

Him accepting death so quickly is a sign of mental illness, and you can see him be confused on why shes so upset. Shes crying and hes sitting here like "why do you care if I die or not?" He physically feels so unloved that he just doesn't get it.

"I dont know. Might further the plot. " Oh, so you know about wades little mental tv show he puts on in his head as a coping mechanism?

Also... Weasel.. YOU KNOW WHO ELSE IS A WEASEL!? Shit sorry wrong movie.

Its not until now that hes crying because he realizes if he does then no more vanessa. We already know hes very co dependent and many people only care about themselves BECAUSE of other people. Which is also considered a sign of wanting to ☠️ self.

The whole "superheros are all lame ass teachers pets" thing is so funny if you think about how much beef he has with the xmen when in reality I have a feeling Wade would love charles in a "Ugh im in trouble with Daddy wheel chair again." COUGH "old bald heavens gate looking mother fucker" COUGH

"Thats not nice" No. But wade is genuienly not nice either.

"This is embarrassing. Please stop, " Colosus said what we all were thinking.

Bro literally cut/broke off his own hand and didn't whine a single time. If you ever. EVER hear this man express pain it is 99.9% his own choice to let you know that it hurts.

During his changing process, Francis says "the only thing that doesn't survive is a sense of humor" wade says "we'll see about that" and smirks.

What also makes sense to me is that he did NOT break easily. They did test after test after test and this man still wasn't breaking. His spirit is incredibly strong and as much as we enjoy joking about how stupid he is, Wade is extremely resourceful.

Its like he has created an alter ego of humor and kindess in order to keep up with the fact he DOES understand how fucked up this world is and whats happening/happened around him but refuses to acknowledge it until he has too. Ussually for survival.

Ive seen theories that he has DID or a type of Scizophreania and the voices in the comics are obviously in his head. I have mixed feelings about it because even his thoughts have thoughts of their own in some cases. Talking to no one is often a sign of abadonment, esspecially in children who are school age and get lonely when taken from their families to attend school. Its almost as if wade never lost his and hes subconsiously talking to himself to keep himself calm/ from panicking in high stress situations.

"But then how does he know hes in a movie" thats the thing. He doesn't. Hes pretending to cope. Main charaters cant die and until he dies he has this mental show/movie going on to keep himself from realizing all of this is true. That this is reality.

Cunningham mentions breakfast for his kids and suddenly, wade wakes up. Hes not joking anymore. This is a "oh shit... I wanna make breaktsst for my kids too... with my wife vanessa" moment.

"So whats wrong with him?"

Diiiiiddd we all forget about scout master kevin? Uncle? Dad? That fact that the oxygen was physically taken from his brain and was given Co2 poisoning over and over? For multiple days? This is the same man who blew himself up just to escape because they told him he wasnt going to see vanessa again.

And then he fought a guy naked, survived the entire building burning down, and now is so insecure about his looks that he thinks he made the baby cry in the street.

Theres people staring at him, flinching away, called names, people see him and cross the street. (So when he tells Logan that he knows his pain when it comes to public settings, hes not lying)

Blind Al is literally the reason deadpools suit is what it is. Why the idiot thought white was gonna be a good idea- See above. Unlike Al, who could smell the blood/ bleach.

I really love al. She's like the adult Toph.

"I hear everything in this duplex." OH, you poor thing.

"The guy that turned me into this freak-"

Al: *bitch im blind face*

As far as she's aware, he looks normal. Which is beautiful when you think about it, but it's funny when you think about the fact that he's so insecure about his face that he purposly found a blind room mate that couldn't judge him.

And they cuddle while he gets dating advice from grammie 🥹❤️

I really like how the entirety of Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children (HellHouse in the comics) stood up for Weasel. They're murderers. But they're family.

What they did to vanessa was straight fucked. Her fiance up and leaves without notice, youre just trying to work and live your life, you get kidnapped.

Negasonic is so cool. I love them.

Dopinder (The cab guy) is so cool too. I love him too. Kill that guy in your trunk. "Mr. Pool" reminds me of Tom holland spiderman.

"It is not boy band >:(" Suurreee it isn't.

"Wheres your duffle bag?" You mean his dollar general store tree hello kitty book bag filled with guns?

"Cue the music" *no one even gives a fuck at this point when he talks to the imaginary cams*

Negasonic mid battle: Hold on- "Hey Yukio, yeah I just gotta fuck shit up real quick, ttyl?"

"Sure thing! <3 You go baby!"

I dont know anything about negasonic but she reminds me of Gambit with her energy powers.

Like I said. Hes smart when its a serious situation because he immediately threw his katana into the glass so vanessa could breathe, only to immediately turn sappy and childish again when he sees her stab francis with it. Heart hands, is hallucinating because theres a knife in his brain (literally), sex joke. Etc.

Colossus shut the fuck up. Let this man kill him. He's hurt Soooooo many people. A bullet costs less then a dollar. His amount of therapy alone is going to be like *checks calculations* 80 billion.

"Not the nethers" Wade can and often does show proof of hurting but hed rather cut off his hand then let vanessa punch him in the balls. "Ow- owie 5000"

Hello Hugh Jackman.

After not seeing each other for so longer they instantly go back to the fibbing. "I live in the house with 12"

"You live in a house??" Funny guys get the girls. I should know. My wife says im super funny (yes im in therapy)

Pinky promises really matter to him.

Hes such a silly billy he brought out the phone with their song on it. God what a romantic idiot.