#i was really depressed wanting to be done with school so badly

[rainparadefromhell]

had a really bad anxiety attack earlier today then it went away and i was fine and now i've gone back to feeling anxious and i'm trying to calm myself down.

anxiety is the worst feeling in the world and for me when i feel like there was no trigger or if the trigger was subconscious, it's exceptionally cruel. you just end up wanting so desperately to blame it on something and not feel crazy bc your brain is acting up and can't process stress.

my heart goes out to everyone struggling with this shit, no one knows how painful it is especially if it's severe. i'm really passionate abt this bc i've struggled/still struggle so much and i want this to be a place where ppl with similar experiences can feel understood and seen. a lot of ppl are not understanding bc they can't imagine how we feel. you do not need to just "get over it". it's not how it works.

pls remember you are also not your anxiety, even if it takes up so much of your life.

you're not broken. you're not less than. you're not a burden.

take care of yourselves ♥

[scarletcomet]

ngl besties but i do not want to feel like this anymore. i want to feel something, ideally something positive. i wish there were things in life that brought me joy. i want to feel happy. i don’t want to be miserable the rest of my life.

[fellthemarvelous]

Invisible scars

(TW: religious trauma)

Looking at me, you wouldn't know that I've survived religious trauma. The marks of religious trauma are seldom visible. In fact, I had no idea for the longest time that I had religious trauma (I thought it was a thing that happened to other people). I simply spent decades questioning the reasons I felt like I was so broken on in the inside. I kept trying to figure out what I was doing wrong and why I never felt happy or like I was never able to connect to anyone. I had no idea that my experience with the church as a small child is what shaped me into the anxiety-ridden, majorly depressed disaster creature I am today.

I spent 12 years learning inside of Catholic schools. It has taken me more than 20 years to process and deconstruct, and I am always going to be a work in progress. I was brainwashed into believing the very worst about myself, and I was always just beyond saving because I had the misfortune of being a woman in a church that taught us that women experience pain during childbirth as a natural consequence of Eve eating the apple, which is why they enjoy making us suffer in the first place. They taught us that Adam ate the apple because Eve seduced him, so even though Adam also ate the apple, his sin still wasn't as bad as Eve's because she did it first and used sex to get him to do the same. They placed the blame for Original Sin squarely on Eve and thus onto every single girl who entered the church. If a boy did something to me that I didn't like, it's probably because I did something to provoke him first.

Do you know what I learned to do at a very young age just to be able to cope with that?

I learned to use humor to deflect when I was struggling. I smile when I don't want people to know I'm sad. I laugh at inappropriate times, especially when I'm uncomfortable. I learned to bottle up all of my emotions because expressing anything other than happiness is bad. I learned to compartmentalize. I taught myself how to pull out the right emotion for the right occasion because I was always striving to be who I thought everyone else wanted me to be. It was exhausting.

In the midst of all of this, I'm trying to figure out which parts of me are really me and which parts of me are things that were put into my head. If you've experienced indoctrination, you know what I'm talking about. They pulled us apart as small children and placed us in specific boxes and told us that deviating from the norm was bad.

Crowley is a fallen angel. His change from angel to demon is drastic on the outside.

You know he fell and that his wings turned black and he ended up in a pool of boiling sulfur. It's the reason Crowley is so easy to sympathize with. He suffered unfairly because of arbitrary rules that deemed him unforgivable. He's accepted that part of himself. He's clever and creative and it has helped him find ways to get out of doing his job for centuries. Hell doesn't care how jobs get done just as long as someone does them, and at this point humanity is doing more to damn themselves than the demons are able to keep up with. They're tired and overworked. Hell is overpopulated even though it should be infinite in size. Crowley wants no part of that system because he sees it for what it is, just as he sees Heaven for what it is. He has the marks to prove that he is one of the damned, but that has given him all the perspective he needs to see that both sides are fucked up and toxic and "irredeemable" (just like him). He has yet to fully let go of the hold Heaven has over him because of how badly he got hurt.

Aziraphale is still an angel.

He never fell, and he doesn't know why. He has lied to God. He has lied to Gabriel repeatedly. He lies to protect Crowley. He lies to protect humanity.

Remember, Crowley and Aziraphale started off in the same place.

They both started off as angels who were created to do God's bidding. Aziraphale is the one who told Crowley what he'd heard about everything shutting down in 6,000 years. He was simply trying to make conversation. He didn't think it was something Crowley would object to. Angels were just supposed to go along with God's plans, but Crowley had a different opinion and was vocal about it. Where did Aziraphale get his information in the first place? Why does nobody ever ask this question?

Aziraphale knows Heaven is toxic. He's not blind. We need to move past this idea that because he still has love for God that he doesn't know Heaven is fucked up. He never fell, and it's something he still fears because who the hell doesn't fear the thought of eternal torment, especially if you know it's real? God has never cast him out of Heaven though and he doesn't know why. It's probably something that hangs over his head like the Sword of Damocles.

Letting go is not an easy task. Aziraphale has always been an angel. He didn't have his identity ripped from him the same way that Crowley did. Crowley had to adapt to a brand new way of existing because he was cast out of Heaven.

Crowley's trauma is evident on the outside. Aziraphale's trauma is hidden on the inside. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

Crowley was an angel and then he was a demon, but he doesn't want to be labeled as either.

Aziraphale has only ever known how to be an angel. He's only ever known the ways of Heaven.

I'm only in my early 40s. It has taken me 20+ years to undo 12 years of religious abuse. Aziraphale is immortal. He and Crowley have abandoned their jobs, but four years in the space of millions isn't a lot. No one overcomes indoctrination in four years. Especially when you had millions of years of blind obedience indoctrinated into you. It simply does not work that way no matter how much you want to believe it can.

It has taken me more than two decades to learn how to stop hating myself. I still have no idea how to love myself, but it's something I'm trying to learn.

My entire identity was wrapped up in what the church told me it would be. Once I fully denounced it and all organized religion, I found out I had no idea who I was. No one had prepared me for a life outside of this one very specific identity and role that I was expected to fill based on a very specific box I was placed into.

I still struggle with black and white concepts. It's hard to unlearn when you have no other basis for comparison, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. It means that these changes do not and will not ever happen overnight.

The fall didn't just affect the demons though. It affected the angels as well. Look at how tightly wound the angels are. They're always trying to do the good thing, but they have no idea what that actually means, and you realize this when Uriel asks The Metatron if they had done something wrong. They are scared of making mistakes, but none of them know what they are supposed to be doing since Gabriel disrupted the status quo. You can see they are unsure of themselves and of each other. The concept of free will is so foreign to them, but Aziraphale showed all of them that it was in their grasp when he allowed Gabriel and Beelzebub to decide where to go so they could be together.

It takes a lot of audacity (and sheer ignorance) to dismiss Aziraphale as power-hungry and abusive.

Aziraphale did nothing to punish Gabriel and Beelzebub. He allowed them to leave because they were in love with each other, and he knows what that feels like. He thought he was about to get the same fate with Crowley until The Metatron showed up and refused to take no for an answer.

He doesn't want to fix Heaven because he thinks it's perfect. If he thought it was perfect he wouldn't want to fix it.

Aziraphale is going back into the Lion's Den. He knows what he's going up against. He's been humiliated and belittled and abused by Heaven for thousands of years.

His scars are there even though you can't see them, and he hides his pain with humor and silliness.

When I see people advocating for Aziraphale to suffer even more because they don't think he has suffered enough, I find myself sitting back in one of those classrooms in Catholic school being told that I deserve the bad things that happen to me because I somehow failed to measure up to some impossible metric. The cruelty of that mindset aimed at Aziraphale is kinda the reason Crowley hates Heaven in the first place because he's been there too.

And as someone who is processing religious trauma, it's disheartening to see people say that because Aziraphale has yet to fully let go of Heaven that he deserves harsher treatment. Crowley would definitely not agree with that sentiment.

[fuwaprince]

👉👈 Hi friends! I have a long, serious post made just for you(!) that isn't full of spoilers, smut or mooning lawn gnomes. Please read if you can, this is a 💥 mutual aid request 💥

It has been a horribly painful and long while as most people following/keeping up with me know. and in a few days I'm going to be down $1500, which is basically all my fucking $

I can't afford Christmas for anybody, which sucks and I'm very sorry. I can't even take care of myself and haven't been, which also sucks and I'm very sorry

Landlords spontaneously raised rent on me more than halfway through this month as punishment for not getting to my house chores and not communicating, to be totally honest with you. I feel ashamed and awful about it but I didn't want to clean the place while multiple ppl living here had tested positive for COVID and kept walking around unmasked... I am not fully vaxxed because I've been too depressed to get any kind of necessary medical care done and I didn't want to catch COVID in the middle of my finals week for the semester. I woke up to being angrily and rudely bitched at first thing after the last of my finals (I passed at least). It wasn't a humanizing text. Fuck the mistreatment though. Rent is now almost doubled and it won't be lowered

There was no room for negotiation and I truly believe they've resorted to pricing me out of living here because the group of renters psychologically tormenting me wasn't effective (actually- putting a picture of my rapist on the fridge rly was super effective in getting me to isolate myself in my room all day and so was outing me as trans to the transphobic ass neighbors.... But I didn't and still don't have any place better to move out to, like the way they were hoping I would. Yes, I have looked and BEGGED btw)

I want out of here NOW, but I can't leave. I tried and had to come back because it was the best option. I can't afford to stay in a motel/hotel/BnB just to get away from them for a day or two during Christmas. I don't have any friends who I can spend the holiday with either. During the semester, I resorted to convincing classmates with keys to locked buildings to let me crash in them while they worked at night and I would leave before anybody showed up. Now that school is out, I can't do that. I don't have any family I can reach out to for support or friends who I can depend on for immediate help. I have been crying day in and day out for weeks. I have records of it posted throughout my blog. Literally crying for days on end. I'm being so fucking transparent

All that lump of text is to explain to whoever is out there, who might be listening and willing and able, to please consider helping me, if and ONLY IF able. I know times are tough and if you'd rather use your $ for other reasons or just don't have any to spare, don't sweat it and take care! 🫂

I've thought about what I could do for a long time and have helped myself how I can. It isn't enough. I've applied for so much assistance. Been approved and been sabotaged by my inhumane mom (who does not love me) via stealing my legal documents and letters and hiding them for months. My mind jumps to grim places but I'm clinging for dear life to whatever hope I have left that says things will get better. I wish I knew somebody with a business that I could work for. Part of me feels so fucking terrible for asking for help because I feel like a waste of all your resources. I feel like I shouldn't ask, like I really do not fucking deserve help, but there are friends online who care, who I know mentioned being interested in helping in whatever ways they can

So to the people who care to seriously me, I'm ready to accept it: please send me nice words to get through this and feel less alone. It feels pathetic to ask but I would love a nice letter. A nice card even. Kind words of any kind would go a long way. It means more to me than food. I have felt so broken and every day feels like a test to figure out how badly I actually want to live

I'm also leaving my cash app and paypal here in case anybody would like to do more than what I'm comfortable asking but probably very likely will inevitably need very very soon. I will be left with fucking nothing and I will have no idea what to do once rent is paid

Thank you to those of you who have sent love, offered to listen and heard me out. I really wish it wasn't so hard to survive. I'm trying to feel better knowing there are people out there who are also without help and hoping the best, but it doesn't make me feel any better or comforted tbh. I just wish the help was there for us. I wish there was a place to go for spare love, care, compassion, empathy, kindness, humanity, generosity... I need that more than I need $. Call me stupid but that's what I live for. I don't live for paying to survive in terrible conditions. I live for love and to smile with friends

I hope to write back to the friends who have already been so kind as to message me soon btw. I'm sorry for not replying sooner. Your overwhelming support is sincerely sweet and sometimes I cry because I can't believe people are so nice (to me???). It'll give me something to do that doesn't make me feel like dying! :') so thank you thank you thank you *fist bump*

Hope you're all doing as well as you can and that somehow things get better. Hope anybody else struggling like me doesn't make the mistake of isolating like a sick and dying animal. You deserve love. You deserve support. Don't be like me. Have the courage to reach out to the people who care about you for help as early on into your emergency as possible. Don't let your situation snowball because you spend so long trying to figure out if you're worth it!!! This Random Tumblr user is here to tell you that YOU ARE. Sending my infinite everlasting unconditional love. Be nice to yourselves. Be nice to each other. Fuck the hateful assholes who wish I would just kill myself already. Tell your friends you love them. Happy Holidays!!!

And here's a single picture of a mooning lawn gnome at the very end, as a treat! I told you this post wasn't full of it.... It just ended with it 👉👉

[angel-of-the-moons]

hi!! i’ve recently been struggling with my eating disorder, and i was wondering if you could do a hobie x gf!reader where reader is having a really hard time eating and he comforts her and helps her eat? lots of physical touch and words of affirmation if possible - and if this req is uncomfy i get it !!

Awww hon I hope this helps you feel a bit better!

Let Them Eat Cake (Or Something)

Soft!Hobie x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Eating Disorders/Anorexia, hints of depression, bullying, some mental trauma, back at it again with the fluffy bullshit (Hobie also makes an inappropriate promise but nothing is detailed lol)

A/N: I myself struggle with eating disorders brought on by financial strains and mental issues (still do) so I totally understand this kinda thing!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

It was the little things Hobie did to take care of you that most people probably couldn't imagine someone of his niche to do.

Things like peeling off the nutrition labels to things you'd buy at the grocery store so you couldn't stress over the calories (or lack thereof), buying those meal replacer shakes for you to try when you didn't want to eat; hovering over (respectfully) when you prepared your meals, saying little things to encourage you to fill your plate more.

"Ay, you should try this. Saw it online and heard it tastes pretty good with that, yeah?"

"Jus' a bit more, I can still see some on ya plate there. Almost done and it's less stuff wasted, right?"

He would even call or text you to eat one of the little snack baggies he'd prepped you full of healthy snacks. Even if it wasn't a full meal, helping you eat throughout the day brought him peace of mind so he wouldn't worry about you wasting away.

He'd read up on eating disorders and didn't like it one bit, so he devoted half his time with you around meals more focusing on you, even while he scarfed down his own portions.

Hobie had an insane metabolism, it was like he was constantly eating something in some way or another to keep himself going, and at some point you'd joked he had a black hole for a gullet.

But still, he would watch you out of the corner of his eye, taking your little mouse nibbles here and there, sipping your drink...

He knew that bringing it up front would only upset you, so he'd do little things to distract you from your thoughts of your food. He'd play little games with you. Like 20 questions. If you got one wrong, you'd have to eat another bite of your food. It would continue like that until your food was gone and you didn't realize it.

A punk with a heart of gold, Hobie Brown was. Though he'd never admit it out loud, even the members of his band would snort and laugh at how soft he was with you; though they understood completely why.

Today, you and Hobie went out for lunch, and you two attracted more than a few curious glances at your contrast in styles when you sat down to order. People just loved to stare, didn't they?

You idly played with your chips, pushing them around on your plate, your chicken sandwich sitting with just a few bites taken out of it.

"Ay, luv. Eyes bigger than your stomach, again?" Hobie asked, sipping his pop.

"Yeah... I just didn't think there'd be so much of it. I just..." You sigh, feeling defeated.

You'd had this problem since you were barely a teenager, and it only got worse after time. At least you stopped making yourself vomit up all your food.

You remember how badly it went when your mother caught you doing that.

In truth, you only started starving because... well. In school you were always insulted by the "prettier" girls. You'd always assumed you were pretty too, that's what your parents and relatives would always say. But being in the face of a gaggle of obnoxiously made-up girls rag on you in the lavatory, in gym class, or lunch... the pressure to be "thin" was hammered into you. If you looked like them, they would leave you alone.

And from there it went. You'd tried dating before, but none of your partners ever took care of you. Hell, one of them practically encouraged it and showed you diet pills online. You broke it off pretty quick after that.

Hobie was honestly the first to not automatically suggest you get locked in a mental ward, or just force yourself to scarf portions that were too much for your shrunken stomach to handle. Hobie was gentle and sweet, understanding with you.

Like he was right now.

"Well we can box it up and you can toast it up for later, alright?" He suggested.

His own plate was empty and your still practically full one wasn't lost on him. But he knew that directly pointing at the elephant in the room would only upset you.

His boot nudged your foot under the table and he gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah.... yeah I can do that." You smile back sheepishly, letting Hobie flag down the server so he could pay (his treat, after all) and get you a to-go box.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Later that night, Hobie had reheated some leftovers from the night previous and toasted your chips and sandwich for you to finish off again; because ugh, nobody enjoyed soggy microwaved chicken and chips. And if they did they were a complete loon.

You sat snuggled up on the sofa, your food in your lap as Hobie's characteristically empty plate lay on the coffee table next to his propped up feet as the program droned on the television in front of you.

His hand rubbed your arm lazily up and down in a soothing motion as his eyes flicked down to your plate.

"You gon'a finish that, luv?" He hummed softly, kissing the top of your head.

"I..." You sighed down at the plate in your hands.

"'S all right." He mumbled into your hair. "But ya do worry me, baby. How about this... if you finish your food.... hm."

He looked at the ceiling and you could tell that he was faking thinking of something serious.

You knew it especially when he gave you a cocky smirk.

"If you finish your food, I'll do that thing you really like, for you, eh?"

"Hobie!" You snort, rolling your eyes at him.

"Oh? Not what you want, hm? How about..." He tapped his chin with his free hand, once again making a grand gesture of "deep" thought.

"Fine fine... how about we go to that li'le art museum you've been goin' on about?"

Your eyes light up and you look at him.

"Really?"

"Yep! Really. But only if you finish your food." He put a finger under your chin and kissed your nose.

"And eat breakfast tomorrow."

"Deal!"

Hobie smiled to himself as you tore into your food with motivation.

Being Spider-Man didn't always mean fighting the oppressive regime they were stuck with. It wasn't always about thwarting criminals in the streets.

Sometimes it was about coming home and making sure his girlfriend had enough to eat.

And that was plenty for him.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Recovery

Hi everyone :)

This was asking by someone like probably a year ago, sorry for the wait!

Prompt : have you had a good day? I hope so.someday we can get something from one batlle x reader.where their teammates think they are doing something out of character. But are they really just struggling not to take their medicine?

Maybe it's a little deeper than I thought at first, sorry? But it is a subject that I master rather well so I may have been a little carried away.

I'm still open for any of your ideas or want :)

TW : Oral fight, angst, depression, treatments, swearing.

______________________________________________________________

You’ve never been good at dealing with your emotions since you were a kid. Even if you never lacked anything and your parents always wanted the best for you, you always had a part in you that made you feel that everything you did was not enough. Having a little sister who was successful everywhere you had failed a few years ago probably didn’t help much, especially when you saw how proud your parents were of her. You have always been in the norm, in the average. You always did everything so that no one would notice you, your fear of being a disappointment taking over from the rest.

It worked for many years, until you changed class at school for random reason and ended up with Alessia Russo sitting next to you. For a reason that you never really understood, she got soft spot for you and wanted to become your friend. From the height of your eight years you were delighted and you gladly let yourself be dragged with her on the football fields. That’s when it really started. You found a sport that you liked and something that you really felt good about. Initially skeptical, your parents finally let you play and you climbed the ladder hand in hand with Alessia. The only difference was that you were in front of the goals trying to stop the balls rather than trying to put them in the net.

You and Alessia end up splitting up when she flies to the United States and you stay to play at Chelsea. You were selected to join the national team of England as soon as you were old enough and there too you made your place. At the end of your contract with Chelsea, you signed at Lyon, where you stayed until the summer of 2022. Year of England’s victory at the Euro, in which you participated by playing all the matches until the final. These memories will remain engraved in you forever, but it is also from there that your anxiety began to overtake you.

You didn’t say anything first of all, claiming that it came from your arrival in Barcelona, along with your colleague and friend Lucy Bronze. The latter had taken you under her wing for a long time, having perhaps realized that there was more to scratch under the surface of your smooth and angelic smile. Or maybe Alessia asked her to watch over you, because despite the physical distance between you two, she’s still your best friend.

Alessia introduced you to Ona, playing alongside her at Manchester United for a while. You quickly fell under the spell of the Spanish girl, her good humor, her charming smile and the way she had to sincerely care about others were something we are not used to. She quickly admitted that the feelings were reciprocal, but the geographical distance prevented you from fully living your relationship. When you learned that Ona’s transfer to Barcelona was finally accepted, you finally decided to try everything for everything. Instead of taking an apartment for her, you and Ona looked for an apartment together in which you settled when she arrived in Barcelona.

A few weeks later you were both called into your respective national selections. You knew what was happening in the Spanish squad, Ona having already refused to go there by signing a first petition against its leaders. Her change of heart was very badly perceived by the fans and the criticism she received affected you as much as it did to her. But you have always done your utmost to support her.

Being separated from Ona was not easy during those weeks. You managed to escape from time to time to find each other again, but having not mentioned your relationship outside your circles of friends, you didn't want to be caught by someone. Not to mention you were worried about the possible repercussions for Ona if her federation ever discovered the nature of your relationship.

The first panic attack you had was at the quarter-final against China. The goal you conceded that day was the first of the competition and the failure sensation that gave you was such that you had to lock yourself in the toilet at the end of the game. This is where Alessia found you and you don’t remember exactly how she brought you back to your hotel room, nor how she managed to make sure that Ona could join you there.

The following crises you managed to feel them happen, it was usually the night before the matches, but you also had some after the matches. Lauren, your regular tournament roommate, never realized every night you got up to go breathe fresh air on the balcony, sleeping too deep for that. And it was a relief to you, honestly. You didn’t want to worry anyone, let alone be pitied. Not being able to manage your nerves was a new shame in your eyes.

Except that you didn't win the tournament, losing the final because of a goal conceded. Your fault, finally. None of your teammates told you but you didn’t need to. You knew it. After your last game, you quickly jumped on the first plane back to Barcelona and away from Australia. You rejected your girlfriend’s offer not to go to the celebrations in Spain to stay with you, swearing that you were okay and that she deserved to enjoy what happened to her. If you sincerely thought the second part of the sentence, the first was probably the biggest lie of your life.

When you got to your apartment, you turned off your phone and lived in the dark for two days. Until Lucy shows up in your apartment and fails to break down the door, sent by a panicked Ona not to hear from you. After looking at the mace informs that you were under the sheets of your bed, Lucy pulled you out and took you to the emergency room. They found nothing physical, so you ended up in the psychiatric ward, despite your protests. They diagnosed you with depression and anxiety attacks but allowed you to go out only on the condition that you take your treatment daily.

You did for many weeks, before you realized that it was tiring you and making your abilities on the field less efficient than usual. Spoiler : It wasn’t, but your tortured mind didn’t seem to want to leave you alone.

So, you stopped taking them. To avoid Ona’s attention, you were throwing your daily dose of medication down the toilet. At first, it didn’t change your mood but you felt like you had regained the energy you had before. Except things started to turn the wrong way little by little. The slightest annoyance affected you a little too long and you started to have insomnia again. You briefly tried to take your treatment every two days, but it was worse than anything. So you simply stopped and you tried to silence the aggressive comments of your brain towards yourself. You had worried your girlfriend and friends enough about you.

****************

"Oh god Y/N how are you so clingy all the time?"

The phrase of one of the staff members, thrown in the tone of laughter, makes you raise your look from the screen of the computer on which Ona and you were watching a film. Train trips to another city were always a time when you chose to do something together. No team member seemed disturbed by this, you and Ona were almost tied by the hip at this point. The other couple, aka Ingrid and Mapi are doing the same anyway.

"I- I just…"

Surprised by the remark, you get up without thinking from Ona on which you had leaned your head. But your girl struck down the other woman with her eyes and took you back with authority against her.

"No need to be jealous like that" Lucy jokes from the seat in front of you, where she settled with Alexia.

"I love my clingy girlfriend just like that" Ona points and then put her attention back on the movie, making you to do the same.

You do it without adding anything, looking at the screen, the staff member leaving you to go back to her place. Or at least that’s what you want to make the other believe, your mind starting running. What if she was right and it was too much for Ona? You couldn’t stand a break up with her, she’s your pillar, your beacon in the dark. You try not to let anything appear, from your hands that become sweaty to your heart rate that has increased terribly.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice the worried look that Lucy exchanges with Ona between the two seats. Normally, you would have started Lucy’s joke.

Your mind slows down when you feel your girlfriend’s nose briefly caress your temple and then leave room for her lips. She kisses you delicately, making you raise your look on her. Her eyes are sweet, her smile is tender and you can’t help but give it back to her.

"Mi corazoncita"

She whispers and this time you feel your heart racing with love. You are wrong to doubt the sincerity or strength of Ona’s feelings. She has always been there for you, for the best certainly but also for the worst. Especially for the worst.

****************

Unfortunately, these kinds of moments have become more frequent as the days go by. You have started to doubt each of the jokes that are made to you, you get lost in your thoughts and you regularly wake up in the middle of the night, the heart beating way too hard. It sometimes wakes Ona up and you pretend a nightmare, making her cuddle you and help you fall asleep again. When it doesn’t wake her up, you don’t have the heart to do it. So you sneak out from under the sheets to go to your living room and turn on the television, anything that would keep you from thinking again.

All of this added to lack of sleep makes you feel increasingly irritable. You lack patience during training and you even disrespected one of your teammates. You quickly apologized and were forgiven, but it was spotted by others. With the passage of time you started to feel like you were being put in the spotlight, just waiting for the other to make mistakes and point the finger at you.

This was not lacking in the next game, during which you conceded a new goal. Again, you’ve been in a terrible mood all weekend, just refusing to talk to anyone. The worst was probably the guilt that was eating away at you from your behavior. But it quickly became an infernal circle from which you couldn't get out, despite all the goodwill and hands extended by your girlfriend or friends. The worst was yet to come.

****************

You are in Barcelona, receiving the team of Atletico de Madrid. You didn't concede a goal that day and it was with great relief when you heard the whistle of the referee. Alexia scored a goal in the second half, which was enough for the team to win the famous three points. After greeting a few opposing players and congratulating your teammates (giving you a longer time when you found yourself against Ona), you and Lucy went to see Ana Crnogorčević with whom you played last year and whom you always liked.

The discussion was pleasant and you felt relieved and relaxed, like every time you won without conceding goals. While you were talking about Ana’s arrival in Madrid, the image you saw over the shoulder of your interlocutor was like a punch in the stomach.

Ona in full discussion with one of her acquaintances, Carmen Menayo. Really, you could have endured it since your girlfriend is perfectly entitled to have friends outside of you. But seeing that the other player had her hands almost everywhere at once on the body of your girlfriend made you see red. If you had been focused on Ona’s face you would have seen how uncomfortable this behavior made her, but that was the cork of your insecurity bottle.

Unable to see anything else, you only come back to yourself when you realize that Lucy is dragging you somewhere else.

"Come on Kiddo"

Once again your mind is blurred until you find yourself at home, in your apartment, without Ona. Where is she? Certainly enjoying her friend, having a good time with someone in a good mood. Someone who would make her happy. Someone who wouldn’t be you.

The mixture of anxiety, anger and all that has accumulated in recent weeks is about to make you lose your footing and, in a desperate attempt, you begin to walk. You promised Lucy it was okay and you sent her home, even if you don’t remember it right now. You must have been convincing, because she knows full well what happened at the Euro and what you are suffering from.

A few minutes later, the front door finally opens to a hesitant Ona. Needless to say, those minutes seemed like hours.

"Where have you been?" you ask a little too aggressively when you turn to her.

"The girls told me you went home with Lucy, so I showered and come home."

Ona's voice was soft as she drops her bag next to the door. You answer nothing, content yourself with a sarcastic snort. Of course, they were on her side. Could you blame them? No, obviously not. They knew Ona and also knew she deserved better than you.

"Maybe if you had been less busy with your friend, you would have seen me leave."

The sentence was scathing, filled with bitter sarcasm. The quotation marks you used with your fingers when you said the word "friend" might have been funny if it wasn’t so dramatic.

"What are you talking about, Bebita?"

Ona approaches you and tries to place a hand on your arm, but you quickly release her contact.

"Don’t fucking touch me."

An alarm siren has been on for a few minutes in your head, but you ignore it prodigiously. The sensations you feel in your belly are such that you wonder by what miracle you haven't vomited yet.

"By the way, what are you doing here? You should have gone to your bitch’s house, probably had a better night than here with me. Isn’t it what she told you?"

Despite your accusatory tone, Ona has the merit of not getting upset. But you’d rather see her yell at you than see her eyes filled with tears.

"You talk nonsense. Listen, everybody’s worried about you, you haven’t been yourself for a while. Maybe... Maybe you should ask someone for help?"

Tears roll down her cheeks and it’s too much for you. Ona should not have to cry because of you, she is the sweetest, kindest and simply the most perfect girl on earth. The reaction you have, by contrast, is probably the stupidest possible. Trying to push her away from you is probably not the best thing. And yet.

"Not yours anyway. I don’t need you."

"Y/N..."

"No, Ona. The truth is, it’s not that I don’t need you, it’s that I don’t want you here."

You found yourself screaming without even realizing it and the silence that ensued was like death. You may never be able to erase Ona’s expression from your mind. After these few seconds suspended, Ona turns the heels and disappears through the front door of your apartment.

*************

You didn’t hear from Ona in the next days, but it would have been complicated anyway since you threw your phone against a wall shortly after she left, with some other things. Then, you spent your nerves on the cushions of the sofa in your living room before falling into tears when you saw the photos that Ona had taken the habit of hanging on a wire held with tweezers above your television.

Ona didn’t come back either, but that didn’t surprise you. You ruined everything, like every time. Someone knocked on your door several times but you didn't answer, staying motionless, lying on the floor of your kitchen or prostrated in your bathroom. You knew perfectly well that it wasn’t Ona, if it had been her she would have opened the door.

After the game against Atletico, you had two days off and you imagine that your lack of response didn't intrigue many people. Given the fight you had with your girlfriend, they must think you don’t want to see anyone. Girlfriend? Ex, maybe. You don’t know anymore.

On the day you resume training, you completely lost track of time. Daylight then street lights illuminate your ceiling and change the vision of things, but that’s about all you see. You didn’t eat, you didn’t drink, and you couldn’t tell how long you slept. The pain, the emotions have gradually given way to a general anesthesia thanks to which you no longer feel anything. Physically as well as emotionally.

The evening of the day of the resumption of training, you are awakened by the door of your apartment that opens while you were lying in the floor of your kitchen. The footsteps are too heavy for it to be Ona. You don’t even turn your head, too absorbed by the images projected on the ceiling.

"Bloody hell Y/N, what the fuck?!"

Alessia.

Your best friend appears in your field of vision and watches you with a mixture of fair and relief. What is she doing here?

"I came to see if you were still alive, you idiot. Everyone is freaking out and thinks you’re drowning in your bathtub."

You hadn't realized that your thoughts had been spoken aloud.

"It might be better."

Your voice is a whispers. Alessia looks at you from her height and ends up lying next to you, on the cold tiled floor of the apartment you shared with Ona. A few minutes passed and Alessia ended up speaking again.

"You’re in a terrible state. And I’m not talking about your physique."

You don’t answer. You know that.

"You need help, Y/N"

She takes your hand in her and you take a deep breath and close your eyes. You know that, too. But just because you need it doesn’t mean you want it.

"Where is Ona?"

"At Alexia’s."

You imagined that the Latin girl had gone to live with someone else, but during these three days you had imagined her at Menayo's. Knowing that she wasn’t relieves you, even if talking about her lights a flame in your throat that you can’t swallow.

"I've lost her"

It’s not a question you ask Alessia, it’s a statement you make out loud. The blonde sighs and turns her head in your direction. You imagine her thoughts very well, she deserves better than what you are. (Spoiler bis : This isn't what Alessia thinks for a second)

"I’m going to get you out of this apartment and you’re going to go into a place to really heal yourself. Then we’ll see what we can fix."

Except, you don’t want to. Regaining some energy, you shake your head and sit down abruptly and grab her arm.

"No. Don’t make me go to one of these centers, I beg you, Less, please. I’ll do whatever you want."

Your despair seems to touch your best friend, who hesitates, looking at you. She also sat down and bite her lips. You whisper one last plea and she sighs as she passes a hand through her hair.

"At least I’ll take you to the hospital. Maybe they’ll keep you for a few days, but as soon as you get out, I need you to swear to me that you’ll follow your treatment and go to a psychiatrist. It’s not a shame, if you knew how many players should do it too. No one will love you less because you get treatment."

*********

You stay four days in the hospital and Alessia stayed with you until the third day. From there she had to go back to London and you almost threw her out. You refuse that she has any professional difficulties because of you. Your visits are regulated and you had to choose four unique names. Alessia, Lucy, Alexia and Ona. The latter has still not come to see you and you hesitated for a long time before adding her to your list. In the meantime, Alessia had your phone repaired but you weren’t allowed to use it until the last day.

The club masked your absence at training by mentioning an ankle injury, thanks to Lucy’s responsiveness no one noticed your trouble in the last game. Plus, if you have to miss several weeks, it will not seem too surprising. It’s a relief for you, even if you agreed to get treatment, you don’t want the general public to know about it for the moment. Maybe later.

Since you can’t contact Ona by text or phone, you decided to write her a letter. Alexia promised to give it to her, but you are aware that this doesn't mean that she will read it. You often ask your captain about Ona. You know she sleeps at Alexia's sometimes, your's or her parent's. On the third day, you asked Alexia if she thought Ona would come to see you here. Hoping to see her figure walk through the door to find you with one of your three friends was sometimes difficult.

"She needs time" Alexia replied.

You noded, knowing it was perfectly selfish of you to want her here. In your letter, you apologized at length for your behavior and explained everything that happened to you in the last few days. And you told her how much you miss her, too. The discussions you had with the hospital psychiatrist also helped you a lot.

"Have you ever thought about quitting football?"

"What?! Of course not. Football was the reason I met the most important people in my life. It’s the only area where I’m not too bad."

She thought for a few seconds before continuing.

"Okay. But the way you throw yourself under the bus with every goal you take, it’s not healthy. We have to find a solution so that you stop living every goal as a failure."

That was the crux of the problem, unfortunately. But with your new treatment, which you were taking with attention this time, it seemed that you could be a little more optimistic.

***********

On day four, you were allowed out in the late afternoon. In the morning, you were able to get your phone back and with Lucy by your side you turned it on. The number of notifications was such that it crashed and you had to turn it back on. You received countless messages before and after your hospitalization. Ona’s were the hardest to read, of course. After you were hospitalized, she stopped writing to you and the first thing you did was look for her social media accounts. Since the game, she hasn’t posted anything.

You then replied to some of the messages you received, to Alessia or some of your teammates for example. Family and friends, too. With your psychiatrist, you decided to limit social media. So you have removed Twitter from your phone, limited comments on your Instagram posts and your TikTok account is only used to watch videos anyway. You never posted anything with it.

It was Alexia who came to pick you up at your exit and it was good to breathe a little fresh air. You climbed into her car, realizing soon after that she was not going to your apartment or hers.

"Where are we going?"

Curiosity outweighed anxiety, but you didn’t ask yourself where you were going. A look in her direction is enough to remove you from the head she was taking you straight to a rehabilitation center. This treatment was truly miraculous.

"You will see"

The answer was simple, but addressed with a smile that relaxed you quickly. It didn't stop your curiosity but when you left the city, you understood before even arriving at the destination. Alexia was taking you to Villassar de Mar, Ona’s hometown.

"Will I see her?" you asked after a few minutes

Alexia replied with a simple nod, startling when she saw you suddenly stand up on your seat.

"I can’t see her like that, look how dressed I am"

Alexia’s gaze slipped on your clothes, jeans and a sweatshirt that you just stole from Ona. You obviously took a shower before going out, but still. You are far from perfect.

"We don’t care Y/N, really"

"At least let me buy her flowers"

Alexia roll her eyes, but she smiled and stopped at the shop you mentioned to her. This is Ona’s favorite, in one of the villages close to her parent's. On your first date she stopped by and gave you a bouquet of mixed flowers. She told you that she didn’t know which flowers you preferred but that she found those very beautiful.

Needless to say, you opted for the same bouquet.

Arriving in Villassar de Mar, Alexia doesn't take you to your in-laws as you had imagined. She drops you off near one of the beaches full of memories for Ona and you. The windy weather took everyone away from the beach, except for a silhouette that you would recognize between a thousand. Sitting against one of the rocks that delimits the small cove, Ona looks towards the horizon.

When you see her, you feel a form of stress taking hold of you, but different from the anxiety that persisted in recent weeks. You bite your lips before feeling Alexia's arm around your shoulder, taking you for an hug.

"You’ve come a long way Y/N. We’re all very proud of you."

You don’t need to look her in the eye to check the sincerity of her words and you offer her a shy smile. With that, she gently pushes you towards the beach and you slowly break the distance between Ona and you, playing nervously with the stems of the flowers that you hold in your hands.

The wind blows a little, blowing Ona’s hair. Arriving at one meter behind her, you are not sure that she heard you. You let a few moments pass during which you take the opportunity to look at her. She looks tired, not to say exhausted. A new wave of guilt takes hold of you and you take one last step before reporting your presence.

"Hi"

She gently turns her gaze towards you and the strength of your feelings for her hits you hard.

"Hi"

She answers you gently and after a few seconds a slight smile appears on her lips. His eyes run through your face and you clear your throat before raising the flowers in her direction, a little embarrassed.

"It’s for you. They’re beautiful, but not as beautiful as you?"

Ona laughs softly, but you see her hands shake when she grabs the bouquet to carry it to her nose and breathe the smell.

"Is that a question?" she asks over the flowers.

"No but pickup lines were never my thing. You do look beautiful though" you just answer without taking your eyes off her. "I missed you."

"I miss you too, but…"

You step forward to interrupt her, not wanting to hear what she is hiding behind this "but".

"No, Ona, please listen to me." You wait until she nods before continuing. "I’m really, really sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, scream at you, or make you cry. I will do anything if you give me another chance. I know it sounds like a creepy guy with dozens of red flags, but I swear I’ll do better than I’ve done so far."

The Latin looks at you while you speak before sighing gently and letting her gaze float in the wave. She seems to look for her words and you let her do it, looking at her face with intensity. You realize that this may be the last time you see her, you want to immerse yourself in her as much as possible.

"If continue together Y/N, I want you to promise to really heal yourself. I couldn’t stand a second time watching you self-destruct like you did."

"I swear. I’ll do it for you. For us."

You mean it sincerely and the strength of your answer seems to surprise Ona. It must be said that you have seemed unsure of anything lately. She looks at you for a long time and you let her do it, a little embarrassed. Your eyes find their path to your shoes.

"Why are you always so shy?"

Ona’s amused tone surprises you and in a second your gaze is back on her.

"What do you mean?"

"You never knew how to handle compliments, you always blush when I look at you, you roll your eyes at me when I tell you that I find you beautiful…"

You retain a grimace of extreme accuracy, but you are convinced that Ona has realized it. You answer her however, shrugging you shoulders. If there is a time when you have to be honest with each other, it's now.

"I never understood what you found in me from the beginning. I thought you weren’t as interested in me as I was in you and that the long-distance relationship suited you. To be honest with you, I was looking to have the most of you until you realized there are other girls that are much more interesting than me."

Ona frowns and gets ready to speak, but you raise your hand to ask her to let you continue. Now that you’ve started, you need to clear your head.

"I was always convinced that you would find someone better than me at some point, someone joyful who would make you happier. Last week when you started crying because me, I just wanted you to leave so you wouldn’t be sad. Nothing else in the world matters more than you and your happiness to me. I’m sorry I showed you so badly, I’m sorry I wasn’t up to it, for making you cry and for making you go through hell. I’ve only been sure of one thing in all this fog since this summer, it’s the strength of my feelings for you. I really want to build something serious together. You’re the love of my life, Ona."

It was random, probably said in a completely disorderly way, but it was totally sincere. You find yourself a little breathless after your tirade and you look carefully at Ona. She also seems to be breathless and a few seconds pass, only disturbed by the sound of the waves behind you. You realize that when she speaks again, she has tears in her eyes.

"You're enough Y/N. I promise you're enough"

She whispers but approaches you to take your face in her two hands. It is a tender gesture and you feel a pleasant warmth at the precise place where her skin is in contact with yours.

"And I love you too. We’ll get through this together. I promise."

You smile softly and nod at her answer. After these long monologues, you find yourself a little short of words.

"No more lies or secrets?" said Ona.

"No more lies or secrets."

A new smile exchanged before your lips finally meet, sealing your promises of eternity. Because she loves you as much as you do. And it will be forever you and her.

[imma-write-stuff]

If you don't mind can I get your hc's for Azul, Vil, leona (and malleus if possible) with a s/o who's life so much like Cinderella it lead to their overblot please (i have no preference on weather or not they are separate)

Author's Note: Hello! Sure I can do all four of them I'll do them separate. Sorry it took so long i was pretty burn out from a lot of things happening.

CW: Vague talks of child abuse, angst, overblot, vague talks of mental health but I won't get into it.

Azul - You often spend time with Azul in his office a lot when school is not in session. He wonder why you would stay at his office and cafe later then usual. You admitted you like it here better then home you told him about your step family. Azul didn't know what to do with you at first but he give little jobs for errands. You two ended up growing closer. One night the mental toll made you overblot. Azul wasn't shock nor surprised Azul along with friends manage to stop you before the damage is done. After it was over you were sitting at a table looking really depressed. Azul was pretty worried, he asked what happen you told him you angered your step mother cause you didn't do a chore and she got angry. It wasn't pretty, this he to talk to the eel brothers and made a plan to expose your step family to teach them a lesson. Lets say they got shun a lot by the court in your homeworld and school. Azul decided to have you get a job at his family's work and help you get out of there.

"I had found some leads that would bring them to their downfall. Your family estate? Don't worry I got it covered, your step family won't be able to hurt you in that part. After all you were supposed to get it when you're an adult. Also I contacted my family, they told me if you wish you can come stay with us away from home. They even said they had openings for their work so you can make some money."

Vil - While Vil can be critical, moments when you spend time in his room, doing skincare, make up, or dress up. It helps you forget everything that's been going on at home. One night you enter the room with ripped clothes in tears. Vil sees this and asks whats going on. You admitted to what your step siblings torn your clothes out of jealousy. And your step mother encouraged it. Eventually one day your step mother cause another incident that made you overblot. Vil had to quickly use his magic to stop you and took the time to reason with you. He didn't want you to make similar mistakes as he did. 9The events that led to him overblotting.) Vil will become pretty angry, he lowkey wanted to make them pay for their behavior. I can see him humiliate them in public. He'll take you to an important event in lovely clothes. And lowkey be a little petty by ignoring your step siblings and dance with you.

"Potato, don't worry about those rotten fools. I'll make sure to focus on you, if they try to start something let me know."

Leona - Leona notices how exhausted you look and asks you if you're ok. You shrugged it off at first but eventually one day you admit that your step family have been treating you badly. From taking over the family estate you were suppose to own. Then they made you a servant (slave more or less,). Ooh boy Leona will be pissed at his S/O's step family for treating you like that. I imagine that he would use his status to tell the step family to back off. When you overblotted, it broke his heart, he had to get Riddle to help him restrain his s/o. After the overblot is over and you are in bed. Leona contacted his brother to ask him to prepare a few things for his s/o. After his s/o is recovered, Leona will sat you down to talk.

"Herbivore, listen, normally I don't do this without your word, however you will be moving in with me. I had a talk with that "family" of yours. Yes I did, I made sure they won't cause you anymore trouble.

Malleus - You overblot cause they sold a servant that was part of your family for a long time. Lilia ended up knocking you out and Malleus used his magic to stop the overblot. Once you told him about your life all hell breaks loose. Like Leona, Malleus will use his status to put down your step family and threaten them. Even sends Lilia to give them a good scare. Your family finally stop attacking you and pretty much ;eave you be in your own home. Malleus would give you an important role to remind your family of your status. Though he lowkey want to really hurt them but you urge not to instead offered a different idea. You had your step family work as servant for him. Malleus agree with it seeing how you wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine.

"So you wish to make them work for me? Hmm I suppose its not a bad idea. Though I wish I could do more, however I will respect your wish to spare them."

Edit: I forgot to add the overblot parts my bad I got so deep into the step family part. I added some things in the story inspired by a Cinderella movie that was my favorite along with the disney classic.

[punkboyjack]

The shit lie of SRS in Iran

So it's a something stuck in my brain ( and my life ) that I think people need to know about it is the thing about LGBTQ+ people in Iran especially T because I'm trans and it's little too much complicated in iran

Bing trans in Iran has some benefits in look but it's a lie

We are known as mentally ill people

We have the same problems as any other LGBTQ+ person in the world but with a higher rate

Most of the time, they give strong psychedelic drugs and hormones to trans children ( or just LGBT childrens )

And I was so paranoid about it that I wouldn't take any of the psychiatrists' pills when I was depressed (my parents don't know that I just got better somehow and no one doubt about it)

The Iranian government also monitors online transgender communities, often subjecting them to censorship, and police routinely arrest trans people

Unfortunately most Iranian parents like boys so trans woman's are badly treated almost 92% of trans women in Iran faced verbal or emotional violence and over 70% had faced physical violence

And the rate of murder and attempted suicide among trans people in Iran is high (mostly trans women).

and that really sad bcz one of the trans woman's that a used to know have Ben send to who knows where for the military training by her dad because ( HE was not man enough)

1_pre surgery is hell : we go on a all girl / all boy schools and I think it's like Catholic schools over there

And people don't respect us we mostly have problem finding friends we don't have the From the social point of view, it is almost impossible to identify ourselves as transgender because the government has strictly separated men and women. I didn't really know what my problem was until I was 13 years old

Worst and most important part is telling our parents that we are trans and they should support us because all the work of the license is done with the consent of the family ( I'm so lucky about my parents by the way so good for me but holy fuck who made that rule in the first place)

2_ the surgery is chipper here (it's a lie ) -> we spent Soo much money and time ( and mental health) on permission to do surgery and people who do this surgeries are not even have expertise in this work And they have long-term side effects that are not good at all

first submitted to a long and invasive process

including virginity tests ( idk whyyy)

formal parental approval ( I told you)

, psychological ( it's just the worst part you can't imagine how terrible this psychologists are ),

inspection by the Family Court ( like a god damn criminal )

If we don do the SRS we are basically nothing to them and Thay don't give a fuck about us unless we did something wrong or something and then we are basically dead as hell

Like let's say you are a heterosexual trans men who don't want to do a surgery and you have girlfriend who loves you and respect's you

Will no you don't you are just a lesbian to them and will if they found out what's between your legs you and your gf are going to be executed I'm not joking

3_After surgery, is hard as hell : discrimination, from the law, the state, and from the people around us

Given the lowest quality of hormone therapy, we usually do not have reliable sources for it . Surgery under the hands of non-specialists causes dangerous side effects, and if we are imprisoned, we will no longer get hormones

And not so fun fact : Most of the gay people in Iran are recognized as transgender and they have to tell us about the process because otherwise they will be executed. For the government, changing their gender of poor gay people shows a better face than killing them

And yeah rest of your gay life you are just unfortunate person stuck in a person of your own body

Bruh I read it all over and I'm not even close to the realty it's too much

[giantchasm]

"It turns out that sometimes the future actually belongs to someone else."

Happy Taransusie Tuesday, everyone! Here's...

Content that only ostensibly focuses on Taransusie and is more than anything character analysis of a third party?

How romantic! 🎉🥳

Okay, but no, seriously. Joshing aside, the other day I posted a meme about Sectonia and how she might feel about the idea of Taranza eventually moving on from her. And it was funny. We all laughed. But things can't always be goof-goof "If everyone started saying 'she sent her for you' I would start haunting literally everyone here because no I didn't." I'm a serious guy. I like exploring concepts that make me go "OUCHIE!" and so let's look at that sort of idea through a more somber lens for a moment.

...How would Sectonia feel if Taranza eventually moved on?

Now, I don't know if she's out there... somewhere in Hades or haunting his ass, but either way I think about her a lot. How she might feel in death, especially if she was returned to her right mind.

I think... Sectonia would have a lot of complicated feelings. Like, before we even get to the relationship nonsense. Let's toss all that aside for a second. I think Sectonia would be simultaneously be crushed by the state she left Taranza in and still... upset to eventually see him heal from it. She'd be glad, of course, to watch the scars she left on him fade, but all the same... seeing him make new friends— leave her behind...

That would have to hurt a little bit, wouldn't it? After all, it's not like she'd be afforded the same opportunity. She died young. Via circumstances that were hardly her fault. Of course she'd be a little bit jealous. Of course she'd be a little bit depressed. Maybe even a little bit angry. And she'd feel bad about it, but she would.

So when you factor in the idea of Taranza entering another relationship... oh my gosh, those complex feelings would only intensify. Taranza deserves to be happy. Taranza deserves to move on. She would know that rationally, but at the same time, the heart isn't always rational.

I do think ultimately she'd support him. In whatever he chose to do. Even if it hurt her a little. The least she can do is give him her blessing after everything that happened.

But that's something that applies to just about any Taranza ship. Let's talk about Susie for a moment.

I... think Susie and Sectonia are people who have some similar issues. At least in my interpretations, they're both people who have warped and maimed themselves in an endless search of perfection hoping it will grant them acceptance from others. But this hasn't granted them peace of mind, and in fact all it's done is pull them further from 'themselves.'

I don't know. I just think they'd have a lot to talk about, even in contexts that don't flagrantly disregard the Bechdel test like this one. They're both girlies who would, like, really vibe to both "Oh No!" by Marina and the Diamonds and "Body" by Mother Mother if that's a sentence that makes even a lick of sense. Their mental illnesses aren't the same, but they're like cousins. Their mental illnesses went to school together.

I think this sort of... self-recognition through the other would both make things easier and harder on Sectonia. Because on one hand, I think it would further be a reminder of all the things she'll never have no matter how badly she wants them, but I also think it would help her... have more empathy for this person she's initially inclined to see as her enemy, and maybe even help her eventually want good things for her.

It's kind of a complex scenario. More serpentine than I could possibly portray in a single comic or Tumblr post. Eventually, I'd like to write a fic from a deceased Sectonia's perspective exploring these sorts of ideas. But for now, I'll leave you with one last preposterous observation:

Perhaps this, too, is yuri. 🤖🐝

[nicksbestie]

hello! I don’t know if your requests are open right now, but I would like to ask for a blurb/imagine where y/n feels left out of her friend group and is in a moment of her life where she’s trying to make sense of her path, and one of the boys helps her deal with all of those emotions. lots of crying from her part since I’m a huge #crybaby and zodiac cancer rising

i'm sorry this is so short!!! i've been struggling lately with burnout and my motivation hasn't really been there. I hope you still enjoy it!

word count : 600

warnings : none

<3

There were many points in your life where you felt out of sorts, like you were sitting on the outside of a glass house, the inside being your life, watching everybody you’ve ever met interact with each other.

It was like disassociation to the tenth degree, uncomfortable in every way. Some of these moments happened when you were leaving high school and entering college, or during other awkward transition phases in your life. It fueled your depression heavily, feeling like an outcast. You hated it every time it happened, and unfortunately, it was happening again.

You had been feeling extremely ostracized from your friend group lately. All of them had begun to prioritize each other over you, and you really didn’t know how to handle the change. You didn’t know what you had done wrong, what you could’ve possibly caused for them to begin to distance themselves, but it was tearing you apart. You were feeling so alone, mind drifting into that dark place once more, wanting to just hole up in bed and cry for hours. So, that was exactly what you did. 

Your boyfriend found you like that, three hours later. He’d been gone all day, working, and when he got home, you had fallen asleep, the mental pain exhausting you. He peeked into your shared room to see you asleep, and because he didn’t look any closer, he slipped into the bathroom to shower off before coming to lay down next to you. However, by the time that he got into bed with you, you were slightly stirring awake, and he could see how bloodshot your eyes were and the dried tear tracks running down your face. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his thumb gently wiping away some of the smeared mascara you’d put on that morning, before you knew that your day was going to end badly. You were not yet fully awake, but your brain was conscious enough for you to realize that your boyfriend was finally home, and was there with you. This caused you to wake up a bit more, and the exhaustion of the day and the heaviness of your emotions were weighing on you, and the tears began to fall again. 

You’d been teased as a child for being a crybaby, and while you hated to admit it, it was kind of true. You were just naturally sensitive, and you couldn’t help that the little things made you really emotional. It wasn’t your fault, it was just the way you were, and while you didn’t always like it, you couldn’t really do anything about it. But, with Ashton being there to hold you, it was a little bit better. So, you cried, hugging him tightly. He didn’t press you to talk to him, knowing that sometimes you just needed some time to release your emotions before you wanted to speak about them, so he calmly waited, comforting you in any way he could before softly whispering the question. 

“What happened, my love?” 

You’d been having quite a few days like this recently, and it was nearly always the same answer, but he still asked as if he had no idea what the issue was, giving you a fresh slate every day to talk to him about whatever was bothering you, should it be something different. You just shook your head, not feeling up to answering it. You’d talk to him about it later, but right now, all that mattered was that he was there, and that you knew he always would be, and everything else could wait until later.

[pudding-parade]

@echoweaver

Figured I'd do this this way instead of adding to the comment pile. :) I should've made a separate post with my whining, but…meh. What's done is done.

But yeah, not so much "medical drama" as just…stuff. I had a liver transplant in September. I haven't specifically talked much about it here because...I don't know. I guess I thought if I didn't talk about it it would be less...I don't want to say "depressing," because I'm not depressed, and I don't want to conflate being temporarily down in the dumps with depression. Maybe "difficult" is the right word.

Anyway...I've needed a transplant for about 10 years, my original having been badly damaged by asymptomatic hepatitis C that I unknowingly had, until the damage started making me really sick. I probably originally contracted it from a blood transfusion I had in the 80s, before they tested donated blood for Hep C. Medication as well as a special diet and supplements helped with the symptoms of a failing liver for a while, but this past spring things started to go downhill more quickly and the meds, etc. weren't helping as much.

I had a matching living donor, a relative of my husband's, who wanted to do it and who was finally approved for it. (She'd been deemed too young before.) And I was at the point of, "Do it now or else you won't be healthy enough later to survive the surgery/recovery." So, I did it. And like I said, I know it will be good in the long run, but right now it just kind of sucks. (Though it is nice to be not quite so yellow. I actually have eye whites now, yay! And I look less like a character from The Simpsons. Also also, I can legitimately say that I'm part Mexican now. LOL )

I'll spare you/everyone the gorier details, but I spent almost three weeks (as opposed to the one-week-or-so that's normal for transplants) in the ICU due to rejection issues (which is why my immunosuppressant dose was very high), and then once finally released I was under a "no contact" rule. As in, no contact with anyone but my husband, who was also not allowed contact with other people or else he wouldn't be allowed contact with me. (Thank goodness DoorDash exists now or I don't know what we would have done for food.) The only time I could leave this place was to go directly to a car to be driven directly to a doctor's office where they have a special process/set-up for people in my situation, and it's just nuts. People who went batty during covid lockdowns had it easy compared to this.

So it's been….rough. I don't really care about not being able to see people so much, frankly, but I do not like being cooped up inside. My latent claustrophobia has become not-so-latent of late. At home, I can sit out on the deck or I can wander about or ride my horse for miles in the wilderness without seeing another soul, but not here in a city. Cities suck. If I'd had more time to arrange things I would've at least rented a place with a patio/balcony, but since it was very short-notice, what we have is the best we could get, and it's not very good.

The good news is it's getting better. My immunosuppressant dosages are being lowered and I have no signs of rejection yet, so… *fingers crossed* And I'm down to twice-a-week appointments instead of literally every weekday. So, as of this past Friday I'm now allowed incidental contact, which means I can walk the streets or be at outdoor venues if I stay away from people, especially children (because they go to day care/school and tend to carry all sorts of interesting illnesses), as much as possible, but I can't be indoors for long periods with lots of people, so no stores, movie theaters, restaurants, etc. But this is why we're considering a zoo trip tomorrow. My doctors probably would consider it more than "incidental contact," but at least it's outdoors, close by, and it shouldn't be too crowded since it's winter and the kids aren't out of school for Christmas yet. They also have wheelchair or scooter rentals, so I don't have to walk the whole thing, and I would just be happy to be out in an environment other than a doctor's office for a day. So, I'm pretty sure we're going to do it. Because fuck it.

But anyway. Yeah, I'm trying to be more active online. It was hard for a while because with a giant healing abdominal incision and bruised-up everything, sitting up for long periods of time was a no-go, but I'm doing much better on that front. I've actually been playing No Man's Sky more than Sims, just because it's a space exploration game that makes me feel more like I'm "out there" than Sims does. But, I'm also trying to get back into the simblr momentum. I want to get back to playing the Random Legacy I started, because I can post about that more easily than the weird-o saves I usually play. LOL It's just hard to feel motivated right now, I guess. But we'll get there.

And you know what? For a movie that's supposed to be a comedy, Lilo & Stitch makes me bawl my eyes out. And that scene that I quoted is the "worst" in that regard. But it's still one of my favorite movies. :)

[brienneoftarth1989]

Hot Chocolate

Larissa Weems x Student!reader

Summary: Larissa is taking you to weekly therapy sessions. She suggests hot chocolate afterwards but you turn her down until one day you finally give in.

Warnings: mentions sexual assault and self harm (not detailed though)

Requests open

It’s that time of the week again that you dread so much. You knew you needed it but you honestly hated going. It drained you both physically and mentally but after the trauma you have been through therapy was your only option. That and Nevermore Academy wouldn’t accept you unless you agreed to these weekly sessions. You had been through a lot growing up. Childhood is supposed to be fun and easy but not for you. In fact it was the complete opposite for you.

You suffered a lot mentally due to the trauma you endured. You were sexually assaulted, you were bullied, you then went through the divorce of your parents, you struggled with your sexual identity and to top things off all together you were an outcast. Due to this you suffered greatly from depression and anxiety. You hurt yourself on purpose just trying to make your pain go away. Of course when the school found all of this out, therapy was of course the first thing they suggested. You needed to go to this school to help with your abilities and if that meant you had to go into therapy and get the help you so desperately needed then you were happy to comply.

Therapy was always on a Saturday for you. It was the most convenient time as it didn’t interfere too much with your studies. That also allowed Principal Weems to escort you into Jericho so you could attend these sessions. You dragged yourself out of bed so you could start getting ready to head off on your little adventure. After a quick shower and getting dressed into some comfortable clothing you were all ready for your outing. You grabbed your phone and your headphones and headed outside to find the car and principal Weems.

Once outside you spotted the car and Principal Weems sitting in the driver's seat waiting for you to get in. You sigh to yourself. You really don’t want to do this but it has to be done. You open the door of the car and jump into the passenger seat strapping yourself in ready for the car journey. Principal Weems smiled at you as you got in the car, turning her phone off and placing it in one of the cup holders out of the way. “And how are you doing today y/n?” She asked with a small smile plastered on her face.

“I’m alright, I guess, I just want this to be over with” you sigh “you don’t mind if I put my headphones in do you? I just want to listen to some music” you asked your principal. “If you want y/n you can connect your phone to the Bluetooth so we both can listen” she suggested continuing to smile at you. “I don’t think you will like my music Principal Weems. I would much prefer to listen on my headphones but if you want to listen to the radio too I don’t mind” you suggested as you placed your headphones on your ears as you pressed play on your rock and roll music that always seemed to make you feel better.

Larissa sighed to herself, starting up the car and heading to Jericho. The ride was silent for her at least. The only thing she could hear was the faint music that was coming from your headphones. Larissa could tell you were hurt badly and she was trying her best to get you to trust her by any means. You are just not letting her get close enough and yet she understands. After about fifteen minutes Principal Weems pulled up outside the office where you find yourself every Saturday for an hour and a half at a time.

When you realised you were here you unbuckled yourself from the car and jumped out. “Thanks again for the lift. I will see you in a bit” you said before closing the door and heading inside. You walked up the stairs to your therapist’s office before knocking on her door and waiting for a response from the other side. “Come in y/n '' you hear her say from behind the door. You enter into her office sitting down on one of her comfy chairs looking in any direction but at your therapist.

“So y/n how has this week been for you?” She asked. She always started these sessions with the same question before we always dived deeper. “Umm…well it’s been ok. Same old week like normal. I went to classes and just got on with everyday school life” you muttered looking down to your feet. “And what about friends? Are you making time for them?” She asked. “Well I still have Wednesday, Enid and Eugene as my best mates but as for making time for them…well I see them in class but as for that I normally just go straight to my dorm”

“Oh y/n! You really need to spend some more time with them. They are your friends. They are there for you. I don’t expect you to tell them your whole life story but if you spend more time with them it may feel like a place to escape to. Plus I’m sure they want what’s best for you.” She said, grabbing her notebook and your file to start the rest of your session. “So let’s get started,” she said looking at you with a smile on her face.

The rest of the session flew by in an instant. Talking about yourself has always drained you and at this point you just wanted to go back to school so you can sleep and cry. “Ok so your task for next week is to spend some time with your friends outside of lessons. It doesn’t have to be everyday but let’s say twice before your next session with me. Start small. It doesn’t have to be for hours. Even twenty minutes is a start. You will be surprised how much you could enjoy it” she said, handing over some paperwork to help you handle your emotions.

I very much doubt that you thought to yourself. “Thanks again Doctor. Same time next week? I will try my best with the friends thing but I’m not making any promises” you said smiling a little. “At least try!” She smiled back at you but you could tell she was being serious. You grab your stuff and head out of her office, back down the stairs and out to the car that Principal Weems was waiting in. It looked like nothing had changed except the crossword she was doing when you left looked almost complete. You opened the door making the principal jump slightly not expecting anyone to open the door. “Oh hey y/n! You made me jump slightly” she giggled “how was your session today?” She asked, trying to spark a conversation.

“Same as they normally are. I don’t really want to talk about it. Can we go back now?” The principal's expression changed ever so slightly that you wouldn’t even notice but deep down she was hurting slightly. She has always wanted what was best for her students and she wanted to be that person that people could come to when things weren’t right. I guess that wasn’t the case. “Well I was thinking maybe we could go to the Weathervane for a hot chocolate and something to eat if you’re feeling up to it?”

You looked back to Principal Weems who had a small smile plastered on her face. “I’m ok thanks. I just want to head back if that’s alright” you said putting your headphones back in and blasting your rock music. Larissa’s smile vanished immediately and hurt filled her up from the inside. She thought that she was someone students could come to. If you felt like this then who else does. With that she started the car back up and headed back to Nevermore.

Once you arrived you said goodbye to Principal Weems and headed back to your dorm. You were one of the few lucky ones that didn’t have a roommate. This way you could go to your room and cry for hours without worrying that you were disturbing anyone. This probably was not a healthy way of dealing with things however therapy was draining. By the end of most sessions you just felt overwhelmed and crying was just the best solution. Well it’s better than the alternative. So that’s what you did when you got into your dorm. You changed into your pjs before crying yourself to sleep knowing that you weren't disturbing anyone.

Well that’s what you thought. Larissa decided to check on you that afternoon and all she could hear was your crying. She just wanted you to open up to her. Maybe she could help. She knew that she couldn’t force you to do anything and maybe letting you come to her would be the better option. Her heart broke for you therefore deciding that every week after therapy she would suggest the idea of hot chocolate. Who knows maybe you would feel bad for her and finally give in to her pleas.

The rest of the week flew by. You did as your therapist instructed and tried to make efforts with your friends. She was right, it was more fun than you thought it would be. However you weren't going to let her know just yet. You and your friends all went out on the lake kayaking together before docking up and having a picnic for lunch. Wednesday decided it was a good idea to bring along her portable speaker so we could jam out to music all afternoon. It was nice spending time with them all in a setting that wasn’t the classroom. Larissa was also glad to see you spending time with your friends. One of her office windows overlooks the lake and was able to see you having a good time with your friends. She could tell that with time you would start to let yourself heal.

Before you knew it Saturday had come around again and you were preparing yourself for the same ordeal. In fact every Saturday for the next month and a bit felt like it was on repeat. The day would always start by you getting ready and meeting Principal Weems in the car. She would start a little conversation with you but of course the only thing you wanted to do was listen to your music. So you would put on your headphones and listen to your music all the way to Jericho. Principal Weems would drop you off before you went inside for the next hour and a half to speak with your therapist. Who at the end of each session would give you a little task to do for the next week plus any paperwork she thought you would need. You would go back out to the car to see Principal Weems with an almost completed crossword puzzle to which she would set aside once you were inside the car. She then like clockwork would suggest hot chocolate at the Weathervane to which you always turned her down before then heading back to Nevermore. That was until one week you had finally decided that enough for enough.

The day started like it normally did, you got in the car and drove down to Jericho. Principal Weems parked outside of your therapist’s office before you jumped out the car and headed inside. Therapy for you has actually started to become enjoyable. It didn’t seem so draining and you were able to complete each task given to you every week without it feeling like a chore and thanks to these tasks you were finally able to open up to your friends about your past which means you now have someone to turn to when you're feeling low.

As your session with your therapist came to an end you prepared yourself for the weekly question you got from Principal Weems. You thought by now she would have given up on the idea of hot chocolate at the Weathervane but man was she persistent. As you jumped in the car you waited for Principal Weems to ask her weekly question. “Hey y/n! Hope your session went ok. I was going to ask about going to the Weathervane but I’ve kinda taken the hint now that you don’t want to go. So come on strap in. I will take you back to Nevermore” she said, starting up the car and putting her seat belt back on.

“Actually Principal Weems I was kind of hoping that we could go to the Weathervane today for hot chocolate” you said with a small smile plastered on your face. “Oh..well I wasn’t expecting that response.” She turned off the car and got out with you following her actions. “Come on then. Let’s go get something to eat and drink.”

You felt sorry for your principal. This whole time she was trying to do something nice for you to make this whole experience just a little bit easier. Trying to make you feel like you had someone to turn to and this whole time you just pushed her aside. You felt like an idiot. This whole time she had been trying to help you and you wouldn’t even let her try. As you rounded the corner the Weathervane came into view.

“So y/n, what would you like to eat and drink?” She asked, looking down at you with a big smile. “Umm…could I please get a medium hot chocolate and a rhubarb and custard danish if they have any. If they don’t I will just have a croissant” you said looking up to your principal and then back down to your feet. Unfortunately you still couldn’t hold eye contact for too long so who knows what this could turn out like. As you walked through the doors of the Weathervane, Principal Weems told you to go sit down at one of the booths while she went to order the food and drinks. You choose one of the booths in the far corner but by the window so you could look outside if you so wished. You did like people watching it was always quite entertaining.

After about five minutes Principal Weems came back with a couple of cakes and sat down opposite you in the booth. “They had your danish, our drinks should be over shortly," she said, sliding your plate across the table so you could tuck into your little morning snack. “So what made you change your mind then y/n?” she asked just before taking a bite out of her croissant. “Well there are a couple of reasons why I changed my mind. The first being I felt bad. You asked every week and every week I turned you down. It has taken me this long to realise that you were just looking out for me and was giving me someone else I could rely on. The second reason is that I just fancied hot chocolate” you said giggling.

“Well then” she laughed “well I’m glad you have finally allowed yourself to trust me. I never planned to bring you here so I could pry into your life. I never wanted you to tell me what happened in your sessions. I just thought it would be a nice place to go where we could hang out for a bit and chat just to make life that tad bit easier. We could talk about anything” she said. It was nice that she cared for you and just wants you to feel safe and cared for.

The waiter came over placing both your drinks on the table before walking back over to their station to continue making more hot drinks for the rest of the customers in the little cafe. You and Principal Weems continued to talk about your lives until you had both finished your food and drinks. To be honest this was nice. Why you didn’t say yes in the first place was beyond you. Maybe if you had the happiness that now fills your body then maybe it would have come a lot sooner.

From that day onwards you and Larissa, which she has now allowed you to call her, always spend your lunchtime at the Weathervane every Saturday after your therapy session. It was nice to finally have a teacher you could trust with your life and you valued the friendship that has developed between the two of you.

[harcove]

Well, i saw this on someone's else's tumblr and I wanted to see what you think Billy's reaction would be like.

Soulmate stuff, people see only in black and white until they saw their soulmate for the first time. It can be a glimpse, just a little something in the corner of the eye and BOOM! Colors.

The idea: billy saw his soulmate for the first time in the school hallway, lots of people, no idea who it is and he just gets punched in the face by colors and colors.

A/N: okay so I hope you read this because it's important to say I kinda took this in a direction that maybe was less fluff, more angst? Because I really feel Billy would not like the idea of being bound to someone he didn't pick- like another part of his life is controlled. I think there would be a lot of mixed feelings from him. As you'll see in what I wrote. So I hope this is okay! I'm sorry if you wanted some fluff 😔 i got carried away with my characterization of Billy ily anon AND ik u said like u wanted to see how I think he'd react which is what I'm doing I JUST FEEL BAD ITS NOT FLUFFY- ily

Pairing: Billy x soulmate!reader (no interactions)

Length: 1.3k

Warnings: angst, Billy is depressed tbh, Billy has complex contradictory emotions, mentions of abuse, self-hate kind of, no dialogue just text

Not A Soulmate - B.H.

Billy hated the idea of soulmates.

It was stupid, he didn't need a better or more articulate word to describe it because the simple word was good enough, it was exactly what he thought it was. Stupid.

Seeing everything in black and white suited him just fine. Why did it matter if he were to see colour or not? His entire life had been black and white, literally and figuratively. So he never yearned to see colour.

He didn't like the idea that there was something out there, maybe an other wordly being, trying to dictate who he was meant to be with. It was already enough that his own father kept his foot down on him at all times, pushing him around and hurting him, but now even the person he was "meant to be with" was decided for him too?

No one told Billy Hargrove what to do. Not outside of his home. That was when his life was his for a few fleeting hours.

To be frank, he was almost positive that he didn't have a soulmate anyways. He wasn't meant to be with anyone, and God forbid someone was meant to be with him.

It wasn't that he thought himself to be unattractive; he'd had relationships. He'd done things in a night with people that he'd never talk to again about it. But that wasn't love. That wasn't having a soulmate, that was just lust. And that's what he knew about. Lust. Not love.

His father never found a soulmate. Not his mom, not Susan. Maybe there were people who were never bound to find that person. If it was true, he was glad that his father hadn't found a soulmate; he would ruin them with one touch. And maybe he would too if he found one.

It was so glaringly obvious when someone had a soulmate.

People would quite literally glow. It was annoying; the way they smiled and acted like their life before their soulmate had been worthless- as if life before hadn't been actually living till this person came into their life.

And the way they talked about colours? Sometimes forgetting not everyone had a soulmate yet?

God he despised it.

But Billy was fine where he was in life. No attachment to the people he had sex with; black and white walls, black and white everything. Nothing had deeper meaning, and it didn't need to have deeper meaning. This was fine.

He'd die seeing the world in black and white, and that was fine.

It was what he deserved he supposed.

The schools hallways were jam packed. They always were in the morning. And if Billy didn't have to drive his sister also to school next door, then he wouldn't even be here this early.

There had been times where the moment he left with Max, he drove just far enough, kicked her out of the car (she usually didn't react badly- she likely hated being with him just as much as he did) and made her skate while he fucked off somewhere else. Coming to school later.

That happened less often nowadays. His father had been harsher lately. He hoped it might pass.

It never passed.

Billy kept his head down at first when he entered the hellish hall; something inside him beckoned him to look up and scan the halls but he wouldn't do it. Not yet. He didn't want to look around and people he hated, people who wanted to be near him for the status he held. People who were more akin to lost sheep than human beings.

He wanted nothing more than to be away from here. Not just the school, but Hawkins in general.

Billy Hargrove was made for the sun and the ocean- he believed that. He was made for something that wasn't Hawkins. Hawkins fit wrong; like a pair of jeans that were loose. It wanted to be right, but nothing was right. (He couldn't admit that sometimes California fit weirdly too. Maybe he had no where; belonged no where.)

He wouldn't give it a chance, not a real one at least. To him, Hawkins deserved his ire, it deserved not even a single chance to cage him in. To take away the only thing he had left- California.

But it already had, hadn't it? It took the beach, the sun, the friends he actually did have back in California. It took his mother. (His father did that. But California was where he saw her last. It was as close to her as he could get. And now that was gone too.)

If he tried maybe he could grow to like it in Hawkins. But months had gone by, and he was no closer to letting Hawkins try to grow on him.

Billy Hargrove was just angry. Even if he couldn't see colour, California felt colourful. He had no idea what that meant but he felt it. He didn't need a soulmate, he didn't need anyone, he only needed himself. He could only trust himself. And even that was a challenge.

An arm brushes into his own as he pushes down the hall, lost in thought; no, not brushes- it's more like a shove. Likely not on purpose; likely someone in a rush. But he doesn't care.

He's angry. He's always angry. And that's just the thing he needs: something to channel it into.

"Hey, watch where the fuck you're going-" it forces him to look up so he can yell, scanning his eyes for the person in the crowds. Yell at the person who did it.

But he stops. It all stops. Like a ship stranded at sea; no wind to guide its way and make use of the masts. Completely and utterly still.

Colour. Too much colour.

It comes in from the centre of his vision and it spreads like water colour on paper. It's too bright, too colourful- he can't even begin to describe the colours because he never knew what blue looked like, red, green- he doesn't know what they look like. All he knows is black and white.

All he knew was black and white.

It makes his head pound. His stomach churn. He feels like he may actually vomit on the now coloured floor; something that once was grey is now a colour he can't name. It forces him to take a foot back because it feels like someone has quite literally just tried to run him over in a freight.

His heart aches. And his body feels heavy. And now he's just standing there. In the middle of he hall. And no one gets mad at him for blocking the dead centre because he's Billy Hargrove, and right now, he looks scary. Scarier than usual.

This isn't happening.

He repeats it like a mantra in his head. Because this seriously could not be happening.

No. He was only meant to ever see black and white. He had decided that for himself- he wasn't meant to have a soulmate. He was a man doomed to a life alone; finding pleasure in nameless people with forgotten faces. He was the dictator in that part of his life. He could never be someone's soulmate.

He would only ruin them.

So why?

His head whips around. He's looking; navigating the new colours in the world, but he's looking for them. The person who did this to him. The person who took the black and white away; that safety away, and painted it with colour.

The person who had him scared for once in his life away from his father. The person that he... Wanted to find but at the same time he wanted to never see.

His world was off kilter. And he didn't know how to navigate it.

It felt nice. But horrifying all the same. And he was angry, at the unknown person, at himself, at the world. He was a ticking time bomb in that moment and he hated it. He wanted them but he wanted nothing. He was nothing.

For once, Billy Hargrove, was truly, completely, utterly lost.

[acertainmoshke]

Falling Petals

So. I am working on 4 projects right now, and I swore I wouldn't start another until one of them is done. So I won't. But I couldn't stop thinking about my next project, Falling Petals, a generational story about autism and trauma, and so I'm writing ABOUT it so I can move on and go back to actually writing a current project.

It takes place over 4 generations, and exactly 100 years.

We start with Ira, a Jewish boy born to immigrants right at the start of the Great War. A boy who sees the beauty and the poetry in the world around him, but not in the people. A clever boy who loves learning but has little use for school. Who doesn’t feel pain right and outwardly uses touching hot pots as a party trick to make the other boys admire him, but internally is always seeking sensation. Whose blunt honesty and humorous comments have a certain charm, who knows strange facts and can talk for hours about minute details until the people he initially had laughing and hanging on his words get bored and wander off.

Ira, a boy who came of age during the Great Depression and got left behind as friends went to college or got married. Who told himself he was happy to write poetry, take pictures, and read endless books while working in his father’s store. He charmed the girls who came in but never got past a first date. His few real friends were gone and the neighbors avoided him. He was really alone with only his books, camera, and mitzvot for company. Because, yes, he went to shul every week. He struggled to understand human reasoning, but the rules made sense to him and he followed them more stringently than his parents.

Ira, who his parents gave up on ever marrying until he started to spend time with Joy. She was from his synagogue and, unlike the other girls, she debated him back about philosophy. She wrote her own poetry and read enough to keep up with him. They were soon married, and Ira kept obliviously talking about his own interests and making jokes at her expense, not noticing as she got quieter.

Ira, who amidst the terror of World War II—which he was not drafted into—had four children, three boys and a girl. Ira, who adored the beauty and frozen moments of their lives but himself froze up when trying to connect to them, who wrote poetry and took pictures but then mocked them and criticized them if they ever showed the weaknesses that had failed to serve him.

Ira, who would one day be known as a crotchety old man for doing the same things he had always done.

And then there’s Daniel, born in the middle of the Shoah and always aware of that terror though an ocean separated them. A sensitive child who cried too much for a boy, whose first tormentor was his father trying to make him stronger and whose second was his older brother. A boy who longed to belong with other boys, but found no matter how he tried he didn’t. Who found solace in stories, who devoured comic books and looked forward to shul services every week in a way his siblings didn’t. The people in the stories there felt more like a family to him than his real one.

Daniel, who was eager to grow up but also smart. Who was able to learn and hide his less desirable traits. Who stopped crying and forced all his emotions down, until he began to feel low-level anger all day every day, made worse by loud noises and crowds and new situations. Who carefully watched and mimicked other people until he could come across as friendly and charming on a surface level. Who never let anyone get closer than that.

Daniel, who came of age amidst anti-war protests and the civil rights movement. Who wanted so badly to be involved but had learned never to shake things up. Who wanted to work in a library but became an architect because his father wanted it. Who wanted to be loved so badly he latched onto the first woman to show him affection, a teacher named Poppy, who buried himself even deeper than usual to earn her love, praying he would never blow up in uncontrollable anger this time.

Daniel, who swore he would be better than his father, and was. Who at least spent time with his daughters and never mocked them, but who had never learned to cope with noise and chaos and would unpredictably yell at them for it. Who always hated himself for that after but never told them that. He worked long hours because he had been taught that he could never assert himself for his needs, and this only made him less able to handle life at home. He rarely yelled at Poppy, but took it out on the girls. Especially Shoshanah, who he saw as giving in to the weakness and laziness he had always fought not to have.

Shoshanah, born amidst a time of change and reckoning and standing up for oneself. Who was a sensitive child, but that was allowed as a girl. Who was clever and full of imagination and struggled to make friends but successfully kept one school friend and played constantly and happily with her sister.

Shoshanah, who came of age in a new age of computers and arcades and neon lights. Who still seemed a child, still played with Barbies. Who read a lot and recited lists of facts but got poor grades in school, where she was overwhelmed and bullied. Whose one friend had abandoned her when their interests diverged and whose Wrongness was stark in comparison to her sister who wore hairspray and lipstick, read magazines, and went dancing with boys. Shoshanah, who still wanted to play games and make up stories and was too old to be this sensitive and hated going out in public and covered her ears at loud noises. Who found solace in novels, in writing stories, and in the familiar prayers at shul with the familiar tunes that made her feel safe and loved.

Shoshanah, who went to college all excited to learn about psychology because she didn’t understand people but was fascinated with them. Who dropped out in shame 3 years later because she couldn’t handle the social aspect or keep up with the homework. Who had to go to her sister’s law school graduation while she still lived at home and worked as a stocker at the grocery store. Who still collected Barbies and wrote novels on her grandfather’s old typewriter and spent her time alone. Whose clothes never quite matched and were always too loud.

Shoshanah, who discovered independence by living with a roommate at 30, found that she could handle responsibility when it was shared and friendship when it wasn’t teenage. Who got an entry-level position at the library and never wanted to leave. Who knew she could never handle having children, but eventually found herself love with someone who got her.

Shoshanah, who saw herself in her baby niece and swore she would never learn to hate herself for who she was.

Naomi, born into a world of rapidly changing technology where there was not even a family computer in the house the year she was born but by high school she would own her own laptop and iPod. Who never seemed able to keep up with the speed of things she wasn’t interested in, but argued rapid-fire when she understood the details. Who grew up too sensitive to sound, to light, to the way people looked at her when she didn’t know the right answer in conversation.

But also Naomi, who learned to wear headphones with no music so the world didn’t hurt. Who lived in pajama pants and long skirts and never jeans. Who cut her hair short at 12 and never went back. Who learned from her aunt that this was ok, that she was clever and beautiful. Who never felt so clever as when she went to Torah study and argued with grown adults about the finer details.

Naomi, who came of age in a world of smartphones and accommodations and who learned to advocate for herself, who got a degree in philosophy but became a book illustrator. Who shaved her head so she never had to touch her hair again, dated several women until she found one she never wanted to hide from. Who set reminders on her phone for every little part of her life, wore “actually autistic” pins in public, was never afraid to spin around when she was happy.

[eldritch-araneae]

So, update on my life (bc why now? I gotta write nice thing too ahah)

I'm not sure yet, if I will go through this but once I fix my depression (or make it more manageable at least?) I want to get that university degree (mainly for my own metal health so my brain will stop haunting me in my dreams about dropping out lol) and I'm really looking into linguistics.

Not only because English is a must and I'm pretty good with it (despite not remembering grammar ahah) but also the uni I'm looking into has Chinese, and you gotta study two languages. And languages are fun to learn, it's just my school sucked horribly.

(Plus it just makes sense to know English to understand west and Chinese for East hah)

I'm still not happy about additional exams in addition to entry exams, but at least the cost isn't that bad if I take distance learning ( which works better for me anyway since I better learn on my own) and I can save up for it.

I'm planning to visit this uni soon when they'll have open doors day (and take my niece with me bc she needs it too) and I will look around and ask questions about how to enroll in my situation. Good thing it's free so we can just check the place out.

Meanwhile I survived blood tests aaaah! I just hate how my body react when my blood is taken, its just freaks out badly so it's not fun for me. Now just wait for results and bring them to psychiatrist and hope I'll get meds and therapy.

I'm still gonna take commission, I also done with current clients work, so if you want a portrait, keep an eye for the announcement~

[novankenn]

2am (Chp 9) -Edited/Retcon

--== Table of Contents ==--

A/N - MATURE CONTENT & TRIGGER WARNING. Contains depictions/descriptions to the over the indulgence of alcohol, drug use, sexual acts. Contains depictions/descriptions of severe depression, self-harm. Skip this chapter if these are uncomfortable topics for you. 

This is NOT intended as smut or erotica, so if you're looking for that... go somewhere else.

/=====/

Jaune sat in the locker room of “the Fall School of Combat Arts.” He was half dressed for his training session, and was obviously in deep thought. His sneakers sat untied on the floor before him, beside him could be found his weight belt, lifting straps, towel and water bottle. He was leaned over, elbow on his knees, his hands clasped together before him.

Ever since last night, seeing Pyrrha again, he had been suffering. Old memories he thought buried and forgotten surged back. Inundating him in the quiet hours of the night. He knew the signs of what was happening to him. Standing up, he moved to his locker and pulled out his scroll. 

He went through his contacts, looking for a very specific one. It was after he was granted sole custody of Az, and he began to really find out how badly Pyrrha’s addiction was getting, and what it was allowing others to do to her… he had fallen apart. His finger hovered over the call icon, as his eyes wandered towards the thin raised white lines that cross crossed his forearm.

It had started small, done out of sight of everyone, especially Azalea. The pain dulled the anger, let him focus on his life, and what he needed to do for his daughter. For a time it worked… until it didn’t.

“You're enjoying being at grandma’s. Are you behaving, and having fun?” Jaune asked during a scroll call to his Az who was spending the weekend with Pyrrha’s mom. He chuckled at her animate response and almost broke down when he heard her say those three special words. “I love you too, sweetie.”

After the call disconnected, he closed the phone application and opened the messenger application. His chest heaved as he looked at the message he had gotten from Pyrrha two nights ago. It had a large video attached to it. His mind screamed at him to not do what he was going to do. He couldn’t help it… he just needed to see, needed to know.

The message was not sent by Pyrrha, considering the dismissive and insulting text of the previous and fallowing messages associated with the video file. It was like so many other times. Pyrrha either left her scroll unlocked or was talked into unlocking it. With a shaking thumb, he tapped the file.

“Oh, look at her! Fuck, she’s a dirty drugged up whore!” Jaune’s heart broke as he watched the mother of his child, having her face pushed into lines of white powder on the stomach of another nude woman. It was a man’s voice in the background. “We should do it, you know? We should… this slut won’t do a fuck thing to stop us.”

“You like my man’s fat cock? Is it better than your cuck of a baby-daddy?”

“Ummmm… huh… ah?” Pyrrha slurred, it was obvious to anyone watching that she was drugged up out of her mind, and barely coherent,

“You want it some more? You want it up that tight fuck hole of an ass?”

“No… uhhhh… no…” Pyrrha’s eyes had just about rolled back into her head, and she was only staying upright due to the grip on her hair.

“He’s going to ream that prissy, privileged ass…” the woman’s voice snapped as her hand joined the man’s and naked Pyrrha’s head backwards savagely.

“Ahhhh… uhhhh…” Pyrrha groaned, weaving on her knees, her shoulders slack.

“Hit the fucking bitch! Wake her up!” snarled the woman. “You're nothing but a used up has been… a piece of slut trash!”

The slap was when he shut the video off.

/=====/

A/N - This chapter was another ROUGH one to do (for personal reasons as well as creative)... it's not happy or wholesome, and shows a darkness to Pyrrha's impulsive actions. This will be the final real depiction of how far and messed up Pyrrha's life had become due to her addictions.If I didn't need these few chapters to show the depth of struggle for Jaune and Pyrrha... then I would have completely avoided doing them... but I NEED them to get to the ending I want. So my apologizes if these are making this story unpalatable.

/=====/

A/N - This chapter was another ROUGH one to do (for personal reasons as well as creative)... it's not happy or wholesome, and shows a darkness to Pyrrha's impulsive actions. This will be the final real depiction of how far and messed up Pyrrha's life had become due to her addictions. If I didn't need these few chapters to show the depth of struggle for Jaune and Pyrrha... then I would have completely avoided doing them... but I NEED them to get to the ending I want. So my apologizes if these are making this story unpalatable.

/=====/ Okay.. I did a "retcon" on this chapter. It has not be obvious to readers that Pyrrha is a victim of her addition and those that have taken advantage of it. She is NOT out to "cuck/ntr" Jaune. Did this encounter happen... yes... but is was too into the"ntr/cuck" side of things... and I NEEDED to make it obvious that she wasn't really an active or consenting participant.