#it’s just gotten WORSE over the past several years I made all these good changes I’ve gotten healthier I broke the cycle in my family

[goldkirk]

god how much more of my life am i just missing memories of. When is this gonna STOP. I’m so tired of this

[acewritesfics]

Past Love: Part 01 | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war, ptsd, miscarriage, assault caused by ptsd, swearing. Flashbacks in Italics.

Word Count: 1,061

PART 02 | PART 03

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

It's Friday evening when Y/N enters The Garrison for the first time in years. It's changed considerably since she last stepped inside the bar, yet she was still filled with a sense of nostalgia as she recalled some of her fondest memories of this place. From her first job as a barmaid when she was 18, to her first drink, beating several of the men at a game of cards, and losing her virginity to Thomas Shelby in the back room they used for storage. 

But, of course, with the happy memories came the bad ones. A miscarriage, a wedding that never happened, reuniting only to be separated by war, and then nothing could bring them back together, not in the way they both so desperately desired. 

Years have passed since she last saw Tommy, but they kept in touch through letters and telephone calls when one of them needed to hear the other's voice, comforting each other in a way that only they could. 

He hasn't contacted her in months. It was not unusual for them to go months without speaking. It just how they are, so she doesn't think much of his lack of communication. Until she received a telephone call from the last person, she thought she would ever hear from. 

"Did you know I was always jealous of you?" Lizzie questions her old friend turned foe. 

Y/N is reminded of the petty feuds they used to have when they were just girls. The beginning of it all came when Tommy began to act romantically towards Y/N. Tommy was just as handsome as he is now when he was a boy and attracted the attention of all the girls. Most of them were not surprised when he began pursuing Y/N. Everyone could see their romantic connection, the two of them only having eyes and room in their hearts for each other. 

Lizzie was the only one bold enough to risk Y/N and Tommy's wrath to come between the pair and gain Tommy's love. It wasn't until Tommy and Y/N's relationship took a turn for the worse, that she found her way in. By then, Lizzie was already getting paid for sex and her friendship with Y/N was long over.  

"You and every other girl that fancied Tommy," Y/N responds calmly, ignoring the rapid beating of her heart. "But it all worked out for you in the end, didn't it, Mrs Shelby?" 

"You do realise it's always been you, Y/N? He has always loved you and will continue to love you till the day he takes his last breath," Lizzie continues, ignoring Y/N's jab at her. 

"He needs you, Y/N. He's gotten himself into some trouble; he's not thinking clearly, he's not eating right, and he's barely sleeping. Everyone is scared for him. I'm at a loss for what to do." 

"Is he with you?" She asks, her heart overflowing with concern for her old love, the man she still loves dearly to this day. 

"No, he'll return from London tomorrow. He should be here by the time you arrive." 

"You're his wife, Lizzie. You're the one who's meant to help him," she says resisting the urge to end the call and begin packing her bag. She still loves Tommy, but she isn't his wife. Lizzie is. 

"I am not you. I know about your telephone calls and letters, and I know that when you last saw him 6 years ago before he married Grace, you fucked him. Even then, he was still yours. He's told me several times that if you returned, he'd have you again." 

"That's a good enough reason for me not to return." Those words shattered her heart. She's contemplated returning to Birmingham several times and almost did until she found out he had married Lizzie. "As much as it breaks my heart, I'm not going to let him leave you, Lizzie, because he made a promise to you. Just as he did with Grace." 

"But he doesn't love me; he loves and needs you. Whatever else you have to say is irrelevant. I'm risking my marriage by asking you to come here to help him because I care about him enough to reach out to the only person he'll listen to," Lizzie says, her voice trembling as she holds back tears. "Now, I'll see you tomorrow." She hastily ends the call before Y/N can say anything else. 

As she wanders further into the pub, she finds Lizzie and Tommy quietly conversing at one of the back tables. 

As she takes in Tommy's looks, her breathing becomes strained. His skin is pale, he has dark circles under his eyes, his face is thinner than the last time she saw him, and his high cheek bones are more prominent. He looks exhausted, and the look in his beautiful blue eyes is unsettling, reminding her of how they appeared when he returned from the war. Cold and distant. 

She recalls the night their relationship ended for the last time. Tommy had been tossing and turning and moaning in his sleep. When she woke him up, he panicked thinking he was back in France again. He had her on her back and was hovering over her, his hands firmly wrapped around her throat, preventing any air from entering her lungs. He didn't realise what he was doing until she was almost unconscious. He fled the house as quickly as he could, filled with shame and guilt. It was the first time Y/N had felt terrified of Tommy. Their relationship was never the same again. Even after he had regained her trust. 

Knowing this was all a mistake, she rushed out the door, unknowingly attracting the attention of her ex-lover and his wife. She's ready to get into her car when she hears Tommy's voice. 

She turns to face the man she can't stop herself from loving. "I apologise, Tommy; I shouldn't have come," She casts a brief glance behind him at Lizzie. 

He surprises her by pulling her in for an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as hers run over his shoulders and around his neck. 

"I'm glad you're here." He whispers to her softly. 

"So am I," she whispered back, peering over his shoulder at Lizzie, who mouths her thanks her before heading back inside the pub, allowing the former lovers to get reacquainted. 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @forgottenpeakywriter - star-ggirl - @iceman-kazansky - @alexxavicry - @galactict3a - @crispynutella - @il0vebeingdelulu - @nicole-19s-world

Bold means your @ didn't come up when I tried to tag you. Here's a post I found that could help if your not able to be tagged: WHY OTHERS CAN'T TAG YOUR BLOG

Sometimes your blog will be linked after posted but I don't think you get the notification. Tags have been weird lately. I might start putting the tags in the comments. Let me know if you get the notification.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 29

Just Like Fire

The year I turned 42 was also the year we lost my mother. My father soon followed her, just as he always had in life.

They had been inseparable through everything – demanding careers, the loss of my brother, all of my problems – for almost 45 years. And now, not even death could keep them apart for long.

I was shattered. I wouldn’t have gotten through it without Cecilia. I could only hope to get 45 years by her side as well.

I tried to keep it together for the girls who were also grieving.

Freya took it the hardest, of course.

She had known them for much longer than Grace, and had always been close with her grandparents. And she was already dealing with a lot.

At least something good came out of it. Samuel came over to comfort her, although things were a little awkward between them at first.

But their life-long friendship won in the end, and it actually seemed like they finally made up.

I don’t know if they ever discussed that fateful evening a few years ago, when he revealed his true feelings, but I was glad that she at least had the comfort of a friend.

Samuel always had a gift for cheering Freya up. It didn’t take long before he dramatically pretended to lose his balance, pushed her over and fell to the floor, flailing wildly, as they both laughed.

He would always do whatever it took to see her smile again.

I was happy that she had Samuel in her life. He was a good kid.

Very different from his older brother, Charlie. Whenever I felt challenged by my girls, I reminded myself that it could be much worse.

Charlie had been getting into all sorts of trouble for years, but it all came to a head a few months ago. He had been arrested at a rave while playing a gig with his band, and they found drugs on him.

Colten and Kailani had done their best, bailing him out and begging him to change before it was too late. But it was no use, Charlie had walked out in anger and they hadn’t heard from him since.

He hadn’t always been like that. Although he’d never exactly been the teacher’s pet, Charlie had still been a good big brother to Samuel, and he had often included Freya as well. Charlie and one of his band mates had even accompanied her to get her first tattoo when she turned 18, for moral support.

I was secretly relieved that Charlie wasn’t around anymore. I knew Freya had always found his odd-coloured eyes and rebellious attitude fascinating and I didn’t want her to get involved in whatever he was doing.

So compared to Colten and Kailani, I had it easy as a parent. But even though Freya was ridiculously talented, she still struggled with her self-worth. Confidence, she had. She knew exactly what she was capable of. But she was insecure when it came to other things, as if she couldn’t quite believe that people really liked her. She was popular among her team mates, but her only true friend seemed to be Samuel.

No matter what I did, Freya felt like the odd one out in the family. I tried to treat the girls the same, obviously allowing for the fact that Grace was only 9 and Freya had just turned 19, but it often felt like I couldn’t quite reach her.

She was, of course, under a lot of pressure. She had applied for several sports-related scholarships, and was constantly either training or studying.

Other parents with teenage girls mostly worried about stuff like drinking or going out with boys. Freya was extremely anti-alcohol – which was understandable, considering my past and the effect it had on her childhood. She also had some rather severe opinions on dating, it seemed.

beginning / previous / next

[rainbow-flavoured-skittles]

Hey Mom, Dead Mom

Chapter 2: No more playing daddy’s game, I’ll go insane if things don’t change

I suffered for this chapter. it was fighting me every single step of the way but it’s finally finished. I can rest now. this isn’t as dark as the last chapter but Cole is running away in this, so it’s still not very happy. also I did indeed make a couple of random ocs because how else was I supposed to advance the plot? they’re not returning any time soon. as always, this is cross posted to ao3

~

Cole got on the plane to MOSPA at exactly eleven in the morning on a Sunday. He traveled alone — Dad was unable to come with him. Other people at the airport gave strange looks to the unaccompanied twelve-year-old, reminding him of the looks he got after Mom died. “Oh, why is that little boy all alone? So strange,” and then they’d go about their day, not giving him a second thought.

The flight attendant in front of him right now was doing just that. “No parents?” She asked, face mildly concerned. 

Cole shook his head. “I’m going to visit my grandma, but Dad couldn’t come,” he lied. Cole was good at lying. He’d done it a lot these past few years; you couldn’t take care of yourself the way Cole had without at least some lying.

The attendant gave him a small smile. Maddy, her name tag read. “Well, if you need anything, just call.”

“Okay, thanks, Ms.”

Maddy nodded and continued walking, greeting the other passengers. Cole fidgeted in his seat. The fabric covering it was itchy and the seatbelt was too tight. The man sitting next to him scrolled through his phone, music blaring loudly, and the old lady behind him was snoring. Not even off the ground yet and this flight was already torture. Cole resisted the urge to groan.

It was only a two hour flight, Cole could do this. But he hated planes so much — always had. Not being on the ground made him feel ill, and every bit of turbulence was terrifying. At least he had the window seat, though that didn’t do much to soothe his nerves. Being able to see how high up he was might make Cole feel worse. 

The crackling of a speaker interrupted his panicking. The sounds it made were loud and screechy. “Please fasten your seatbelts and put all devices on airplane mode. We will be taking off shortly,” the announcements said. 

Finally. Cole dug through his backpack and found his book. Fish in a Tree, the title read. He’d found it at the school book sale but had never gotten around to reading it. Now was his chance.

He’d barely gotten past the first chapter before they took off. Cole actually felt it when they did — it was like getting severed from a part of him. He felt sick, though throwing up wouldn’t achieve anything. It would probably make him feel worse. Cole settled for putting the book down and staring blankly at the seat in front of him instead. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the book, or anything at all, not when his stomach was lurching so badly.

Just two hours, he told himself. Then I can collapse on a bed and sleep. He repeated those words over and over like a mantra. 

~

As it turned out, Cole was not able to immediately sleep once he arrived at MOSPA, because he had to check in. Check in, as if the school was a hotel. Or maybe a prison, which would be much more accurate.

“It’s great that you’re here, Nicholas,” the secretary smiled cheerily as she typed on her computer. “I’m sure you’ll love this school. We’re all one big family.”

Yeah, right. Every time a school said that they didn’t mean anything by it. In fact, it meant there was probably all sorts of bullying that went ignored. “It’s just Cole, not Nicholas. Nobody calls me that,” Cole said. He hated his full name — who agreed to let his grandfather pick it out? ‘Nicholas’ was an old-person name from at least a hundred years ago.

“Okay, then, Cole. I’ve got your dorm number and schedule here,” the secretary printed out a sheet of paper. “Do you need a map of the school?”

Cole shook his head. He had spent some of the flight looking at the floor plans and they were seared into his brain at this point. “I’ll be fine, thank you,” he hurried out before she could offer to have someone show him around. He didn’t want that kind of forced social interaction.

The dormitories were not hard to find, not with the giant sign that pointed to where they were. Cole opened the door, cursing when it was stuck, and shoved everything to the side before closing it again. He didn’t see a roommate anywhere, but it was a weekend, so everyone was probably out. That was good, it meant he had a couple hours alone; he could use the time to unpack and explore the school.

Cole shoved all his clothes into the closet and shoes under the bed. MOSPA had a strict uniform policy, so he wouldn’t be able to wear any casual clothing, nor his combat boots. That was a shame — he really liked those boots. They had served well when he got into fights. And they added another sorely needed three inches to his height, another advantage.

Any books that he’d brought were put onto the desk. Items such as stationery and notebooks were placed in drawers. Miscellaneous trinkets were placed in a box under the bed and his toiletries in another box. Cole pushed the suitcases into the corner. There wasn’t anywhere else to put them, but he’d figure it out later. Right now he wanted to take a nap and not wake up for a month. Screw exploring the school, he could do that tomorrow.

Cole closed the curtains, pulled the covers over his head, and went to sleep. 

~

MOSPA, as Cole found out in the span of a month, was its own special brand of hell. The students there hated Cole for always messing up and acting strange, as if grieving for a loved one was something to make fun of. The teachers hated him for not talking or making eye contact and always zoning out. Everybody seemed to agree that he was the weird kid who should be avoided at all costs. His roommate, a kid named John, disliked him enough that he asked to be put in a different dorm.

“Thanks for messing up again, Brookstone,” one of his classmates sneered. Brant Green, yet another asshole who existed to make Cole miserable. “You ruined the whole performance.”

It hadn’t been Cole’s fault. Another student had purposefully tripped him, causing him to fall and knock over several people. “Yeah, I did. What’s your point?” He tried not to flip off Brant. That would just cause more trouble, trouble he couldn’t risk. The teachers hated him enough already.

“How’d you even get into this school? I thought you needed to have talent to get in,” Brant spat. 

“Do I look like I want to be here? I hate this place,” Cole stood up and glared at the taller boy. Brant was a good head taller than him, unfortunately.

Brant didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Perhaps he’d thought Cole was going here willingly, though how he’d come to that conclusion was a mystery. He gave Cole another sneer and walked away.

Cole rolled his eyes and went back to his lunch. For all its faults, at least this school had good food. The chicken salad was pretty tasty.

A large group chattered next to him. One of them gave him the side eye. “That’s the Brookstone kid,” she said, loud enough for Cole to hear. “His dad’s a Royal Blacksmith. Isn’t it weird how he didn’t get any of the family talent?”

Cole scowled and looked down at the table. He stabbed his lunch with more force than was needed.

“Nicholas Brookstone to the office, Nicholas Brookstone to the office,” a speaker sounded. All eyes turned to him. Cole looked down at the floor and wondered if he could just die right there in the cafeteria. It would save everyone a lot of trouble.

A kid coughed from the table in front of him. Awkward, Cole thought. What had he done this time? There wasn’t anything recent he’d done to warrant this.

It took five minutes for the school to realise he wasn’t moving any time soon. They all went back to their conversations, and Cole snuck out the side entrance. He had always been good at going unnoticed.

Cole walked through the halls briskly and knocked on the office door. He was let in by the guidance counsellor, a lady in her forties with platinum blonde hair. “Nicholas, we need to talk about your behaviour,” she said as they sat down.

“I haven’t been in any more fights,” Cole said. It was true.

“Your teachers say that you don’t pay any attention in class and that you’re not following instructions. It has nothing to do with your peers.”

“I’m trying my best, okay?” Cole snapped. Why couldn’t anyone just listen for once? He was trying, he’d been trying for ages.

“Then how come your grades are so low? This is one of the top arts schools in Ninjago, Nicholas. We expect better.” The counsellor had a mask of false concern on. Cole kind of wanted to punch it off. 

“It’s not Nicholas, it’s Cole. And I am trying,” Cole gritted out. 

“Your grades are barely scraping fifty percent.”

“So?”

The counsellor frowned. “If you don’t start doing better, you may get expelled.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Cole said under his breath. Then to the counsellor, “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.” She might be suspicious of the sudden change of pace, but Cole couldn’t care less. He just wanted to get out of the office.

The counsellor nodded and fixed her glasses. “That’s all for today, Nicholas. You can go to class now.”

She didn’t even bother to get his name right. “Thanks,” Cole marched out the door.

~

Cole stared down at his exam results and wondered if he was dreaming. Forty percent average, the paper said. A fail. He’d managed to do so badly that his average wasn’t even fifty.

Dad’s going to kill me, he thought. Dad expected at least nineties, and this definitely wasn’t it. He’d be grounded until his thirtieth birthday, if he lived that long.

The only subject that had above sixty was visual arts. The teacher for that class was nice — he understood Cole’s struggles and gave him all the time he needed. It wouldn’t make Dad overlook all the other failures, though.

The paper crinkled under his grip. Cole blinked the tears out of his eyes and shoved the paper into his folder. His classmates were conversing all around him, comparing grades and bragging about what they’d gotten. The teacher sat at her desk on the computer. Nobody would notice if he went to the washroom and never returned, hopefully.

Cole got up and walked to the front. “Ms. Jackson, may I please go to the washroom?”

The teacher nodded distractedly and waved her hand. “Yes.”

Cole grabbed his belongings and slipped out the door. He hadn’t taken a hall pass, not when the teacher would notice it missing. She wouldn’t know he was gone, but she would notice the hall pass. The teachers here were strange like that.

He opened the door to his dorm and collapsed on the ground. How was he going to explain his grades to his dad, much less the teachers? He could already hear the lecture. “Your mother would be so disappointed in you, Cole. What happened to all that potential?”

Then again, Dad didn’t pay attention to him. Cole doubted he even remembered that he existed; Dad was too busy partying. Maybe he could burn the report card and pretend it didn’t exist.

Or… Cole’s thoughts drifted to a snide comment Brant had made a few months ago. “Why don’t you just run away? Nobody would miss you — we’d be happy to see you gone.”

Cole had ignored him at the time. It was just another uncreative insult from the stereotypical bully. But it wasn’t exactly a bad idea. As strict as the school was, Cole knew all the weak spots in its system. It was easy to sneak out and never return. And he’d been thinking about leaving and never coming back for ages. This was just the final straw.

“All right, then. Guess Brant gets his wish,” Cole said. No one responded, of course — he was all alone. But talking to himself was a habit. Cole got up and went to the closet, finding the duffel bag he used to use for camping. He blew the dust off and packed anything that seemed useful. A flashlight, multiple sets of clothes, a reusable water bottle, that box of granola bars he’d bought a month ago, all the cash he had.

More food would need to be picked up from the school cafeteria, he decided. And he’d need to find a sleeping bag somehow. But everything else was ready. Cole could leave during the night — he refused to call it running away, he wasn’t running from anything — it was easier that way. This was the best option, he told himself.

Cole snuck out as soon as it was dark. He didn’t need to avoid any roommates, thankfully — anyone who’d been placed with him had moved out. It took a few minutes for him to write a letter to Jay. His best friend didn’t deserve to have him disappearing without warning, though they hadn’t been best friends since before Mom’s death. He put it in the outgoing mail on the way out, sealed with a blue sticker. Jay would know what that meant.

He took the back exit and walked down the road to the bus stop. The city’s streets were dimly lit, people rushing past him to get home. A couple looked at him curiously but didn’t stop him. A drunk man sat down next to him on the bench as they waited. Dogs barked in the distance and a truck drove past. It was peaceful, Cole thought. The most peaceful he’d been in a while.

The bus arrived just after midnight. Cole got on and paid for a ticket to the next town over. He could find a sleeping bag and extra clothes there, and the further away he got the better. He was finally leaving MOSPA and his dad behind, and he wouldn’t be stopped by something as simple as not having basic supplies.

~

Running away wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. All the books made it seem easy — there was no mention of sleeping in alleys, or trying not to get mugged, or having to do odd jobs to get money. Thank goodness for Ninjago’s lax law enforcement; nobody would have hired a thirteen-year-old if the police were good at their job. Especially a thirteen-year-old who may or may not be on the missing persons list. Cole still wasn’t sure if anyone had noticed him missing.

Cole shouldered his backpack as he walked away from Jamanakai Village. He’d managed to find work at a local restaurant a few weeks prior and had finally saved up enough money to get somewhere else. He wasn’t quite sure where his next destination would be, but for now he planned to go back to the mountain range near Ninjago City. He deserved a break, and climbing was therapeutic. The city having a lot of people to pickpocket was just a bonus.

Jamanakai was isolated, unfortunately. It would be an entire day before Cole could get to a more urban area and find a bus stop. He knew there wasn’t a lot of point in travelling so often, of course, but Cole couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t keep moving, someone would find him and bring him back to MOSPA. He couldn’t let that happen. And it kept his mind off of Mom and Dad. Nope, not thinking of that today, Cole thought. It was a good day and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

“Probably enough money for a ticket to Ninjago City,” Cole muttered. “Then it’s just some hitchhiking.”

Not a difficult journey, really. Cole continued on.

~

The mountain was tall. And windy. And probably dangerous to climb without proper gear. Cole tried not to think of that as he pulled himself up the next ledge. He’d already had a close calls today, almost fell off before he found a foothold. Cole thanked Wojira that he hadn’t fallen to his death. If he was going to die, he wanted it to at least be dignified.

Only a bit more to the top of the mountain and then he could rest. Cole planned to camp there for the night and then go back down, hopefully without any major injuries. The broken ankle  still ached, and it had been months. He hadn’t been able to walk for two weeks the last time, and Cole wasn’t eager to have a repeat.

Huffing and sweaty, Cole reached the top. He climbed over the last few rocks and stopped, feeling pretty proud of himself, when he noticed the man sitting in front of him.

“Hello there,” the man said. He looked ancient, with deep set wrinkles and a long white beard. He took a sip of his drink and smiled.

Okay, that’s creepy, Cole thought. He had thought he was the only one climbing. How had he not noticed this guy?

“Wha— who are you?” The words exited Cole’s mouth without permission. He really should work on his brain-to-mouth filter at some point.

“Maybe that is a question you should ask, but first: why do you climb the mountain?” The old man looked at Cole with something like curiosity. Curiosity about what?

“Because it’s a good way to get exercise?”

“You can tell me the truth, Cole. I don’t judge.”

“How do you know my name? I never introduced myself,” Cole took a step back. Was this man some sort of stalker? Nobody knew where he was. If he got kidnapped, or murdered, no one would be able to find him. 

“Because I know you, Cole. I was there when you were born.”

“You know my Dad? Are you going to bring me back to him? Give me another lecture on how I’m a disappointment? I don’t need to hear it,” Cole crossed his arms and prepared to make a run for it. It would be suicidal to jump off the mountain, but he was a fast climber. The old man wouldn’t be able to catch up with him.

“I knew your mother. She was one of my students,” the old man stood and held up his hands in the ‘I surrender’ gesture. 

“Student?”

“I taught her to be a hero. Did you think that all the stories she told you were made up?”

Cole hadn’t thought about his mom’s stories in years. She used to tell him about great heroes who could control the very elements themselves, who tamed dragons and fought against evil. He’d loved those stories.

“You’re telling me that all those stories about ninja and dragons were real? Yeah, and I’m a giant purple unicorn,” Cole glared at the old man. This guy had to be crazy, spouting nonsense about real-life superheroes and monsters. Mom had told him those stories for entertainment and bonding, nothing more.

“You are stubborn. Also like your mother, I suppose. I can prove to you that all the old legends are real. You just have to trust me,” the man held out his hand. His face was a mixture of hope and worry and maybe a little bit of fear. Fear of what, Cole didn’t know.

Cole hesitated for a moment. There was nothing left for him back at home, if he still had one, and no one cared if he went missing. The only people he cared about were either dead or better off without him. His life truly couldn’t get any worse, and if this man had known his mom he couldn’t be too bad. Cole took the hand.

[3-2-whump]

About the Author, or Adoption Trauma and Whump

Hi dear readers, this is 32W. Author, casual artist, and transnational adoptee, and as we reach the 28th anniversary of my adoption, I’m here to talk about adoption trauma and how it relates to whump.

TW/CW: adoption trauma, geopolitics, religious trauma (briefly mentioned/implied), gaslighting (briefly mentioned), objectification (briefly mentioned, sexual acts against a minor (briefly mentioned), metaphorical light gore

NOTE: The experiences of 32W with adoption are their experiences alone and cannot nor should be representative of every adoptees’ experiences. I love the people I call my parents, and I will always see them as such, but that does not change the basic facts that I will lay out below. This author also does not claim to be a geopolitical expert, nor a communist party expert, nor a Chinese spy -my god, I can’t believe I think I need to write that! Reader Discretion is advised.

I have been writing whump stories since my high school days back in 2010, and I have been writing pretty much the same story on and off for the past fourteen years. The names have changed, the faces have sort of changed, and the contexts have varied widely depending on what genre I had a phase in at that time, but a few core elements stayed the same:

Loss of culture

Loss of family

Loss of country

Loss of mother tongue

Forcibly living with someone who, though they could be worse, is still being forced to live with someone

Forced assimilation

Objectification

Losing trust in someone you trusted, respected, and loved

And while I have been writing whump with these themes for the past fourteen years, it only just occurred to me a couple months ago that all of those elements are also present in my personal experience with adoption. Basically, I process my adoption trauma through whump.

My parents wanted a baby. They wanted a baby after they had finally gotten my brothers out from underfoot, those problematic and troubled young men who are now strangers to me. My parents wanted a baby, preferably from another country, because of a recent court case in which the birth mother won back custody of her blood child and broke the adoptive parents’ hearts, so they wanted a baby from a place far away, where the chances of that happening were basically zero.

My parents wanted a baby.

And they got one.

From 1980 to 2016, the Chinese Communist Party implemented the One Child Policy in order to curb their country’s ever-climbing population. Consequentially, for many rural, agricultural, and often traditionalist families, this meant prioritizing sons over daughters, and thus hundreds of thousands of children –mostly girls- were scattered like stars, eventually landing in the arms of the richer, affluent Western countries. Though our circumstances of “abandonment” varied, we were all dispersed across the globe, unwilling, unaware, and now with different names and with parents that looked nothing like us.

Some of us ended up in good homes. I know I certainly did. My parents adored me, and I loved (still love?) them. They were a little weird sometimes, borderline objectifying me since I was a toddler and using religion to gaslight me into believing everything about our family situation was fine, but they also taught me about my culture, made me go to Chinese language school as a kid, and overall did their best. I’d like to think every kid, adopted or not, can say that about their parents. They did their best.

That said, this does not change the fact that they essentially bought me. This does not change the fact that I was forcibly separated from my home, my family, my culture. This does not change the fact that I have no official records and all but cease to exist until they got me. This does not change the fact that my birthday is a guess. This does not change the fact that they severed my tongue and stitched it back on, training it to speak their words, so that even after six years of Chinese school, I still cannot carry a conversation in what should be my natal tongue. That does not change the fact that I deliberately tried to lighten my skin with heavy makeup during the more cringe years of high school. That does not change the fact that my grandpa tried to molest me when I was eleven, and to this day, I am absolutely sure he never would’ve tried that shit with his blood grandchildren.

Their love and good intentions do change any of it.

So, I write whump to cope!

Please don’t feel sorry for me. I am not writing this for random internet strangers’ pity, I am just explaining rather graphically why I write the kind of whump that I write. Writing whump is cheaper than therapy. Exploring dark themes through fiction is a safe avenue for me to discover truths about myself that I did not even know before. And hopefully, my perspective may shed light on issues other adoptees may be facing that they did not have the words to express. And to those adoptees, I hear you, your feelings are valid, and my inbox is open if you want to talk. So, with that, I will conclude this essay, and promise you more good 32Whump content! Stay safe, yall!

[daceydeath]

Light in the Dark

Chapter 1 - The Bar, the Boy and the Bookstore

Parings: Chan x Female Reader Series: Creatures of Chaos -Part 1 Word Count: 4.9k Genre: Romance, vampire au, Fluff, Angst, Warnings: Swearing, supernatural themes, suggestive themes

You knew the fairy tales were true, you knew Oddinaries existed but you also knew you were an ordinary human who wasn't considered interesting to anyone. At least that is what you thought you knew.

"The night is dark and full of horrors!" your grandmother prophesied ominously as you finished adjusting your hair in the hallway mirror. Your had spent the last half an hour getting ready for a night out with some friends and as normal she had flitted about spilling out worries of curses and ill deeds. Rolling your eyes at your reflection you continued smoothing your hair in the dim hallway light.

"Dark and full of horrors" she wailed this time far more dramatically.

"That's what happens at night Grandma it gets dark" you muttered back as your phone pinged to let you know your bestie Mimi was down stairs. I'll be home later grandma, love you" she warily smiled as she gripped your hand tightly before letting go for you to leave.

Your grandmother had lived with you all of your life and although you loved her so dearly she did sound like a medieval crone the way she endlessly worried about curses, "evil" supernatural creatures and magic. It had gotten worse recently even though, the Unveiling an event which lead to the revelation that many of the beings believed to be only works of folklore actually existed, had occurred some 50 years earlier. It had been a whirlwind of change as society began to accept Fae Folk, Elves and alike which had profited your family greatly in the end. Her concern had always been with the beings considered to be evil in nature, even though you had never met a being who you would have considered evil, she was terrified of Vampires, Werewolves and anything she deemed to be a Demon in disguise. But she was your grandmother and she had helped care for you since you were a baby and she did after all make the best tea and cakes you had ever eaten.

Getting in the cab waiting at the curbside you smiled brightly at your best friend before whisking away to the new bar that had opened just a few suburbs over. A few drinks, some dancing and a good catch up was just what you needed on a Friday night to unburden all the mundane week woes that Mimi always seemed to have had. Mimi had started a new job a few month ago so she was still having issues with her new co workers some of which were not human, you were still only working at a small bookstore that your family had owned for generations, plus the endless worry of both your families about you.

The new bar which Mimi had discovered was called Ordinary, a strange name for a bar you thought, and it was pumping when you pulled up lively music spilling out onto the street the neon red and green signage throwing patterns across the entrance. Grinning to yourselves you and Mimi quickly found two places at the end of the long bar and ordered your drinks chatting about anything and everything you began to feel the stress of your week fading.

"I'm having so much trouble with the Fae I work with she is so cold to me I don't know what to do" Mimi complained sighing dramatically

"Have you tried looking up what her culture is like? I mean you might be doing something offensive and you wouldn't even know if you don't try to figure it out" You replied trying to defuse her inevitable dramatic outburst. Having worked at your family's bookstore for the past few years while you were still studying had given you a far greater understanding of other beings. You had made friendly acquaintances with several witches, a few Fae Folk, an extremely sweet Elven girl and even an old and seemly grumpy warlock, named Aloysius, who often had you scouring tomes for hour looking for exactly what he wanted.

"I guess but why would you want to work in our world if your going to be sensitive about things?" Mimi frowned oblivious to how obnoxious she sounded

"Because she probably needs to pay her bills just like everyone else. I mean Mimi, come on it's not that hard to be nice" you lectured softly knowing that Mimi was just frustrated with her job not her co-workers. She sighed dramatically before slipping from the bar stool

"Bathroom break I'll be back" Mimi announced loudly giggling you finished your drink before opening your phone to go through your socials. That was when you felt someone was watching you. Looking around subtly you couldn't see anyone showing any interest in you but still you couldn't shake the feeling someone was staring at you.

It was just another night the boys had dragged him along to a new bar hoping to find an easy hook up or two to fill their time and he was going to be bored again. The new bar, Changbin had assured him catered to their kinds, it was run by another vampire or perhaps he had said warlock and had a secret entrance to a seperate section that would give them freedom and anonymity towards the back of the bar beyond the bathrooms and kitchen entrances. But for now they stayed in the front, the acceptable section, Hyunjin had called it at some point watching the clientele that would potentially become their late night entertainment.

Babysitting his brothers was how he usually referred to these trips out. Stopping Jeongin and Han getting too over excited, keeping Minho in a good mood if he even came along, keeping Changbin's anger in check and very occasionally fishing Hyunjin and Felix out of trouble if they tried to make a move on a taken human. It was tiring and often more trouble than it was worth but he loved his boys and would put up with just about anything to make them happy.

He had only been there for a couple of hours watching as the boys either danced with humans or drank in the booth they had acquired with him. His interest had been peaked though when the thought he saw a flash of a design that seemed familiar to him it had appeared in a gap in the crowd. He scanned the bar with his eyes lazily until they landed on an ordinary looking human girl with cropped hair sitting with another girl at the bar. She didn't appear anything other than an ordinary to his eyes except for the small design that adorned the pendant sitting at her throat. The longer he watched her the more he was convinced that it was in fact a Vega symbol surrounded by small rose branches. It had been many hundreds of years since he had seen that symbol anywhere let alone anyone wearing it out in the open.

Still unable to shake the feeling you were being watched you glanced around the bar hoping to discover the source of the increasing uncomfortable feeling running up your spine. Turning slightly further to your right your eyes met a pair of deep dark ones belonging to an attractive guy on the other side on the room tilting his head slightly in greeting and smiling softly once he realised he had been caught staring you smiled quickly blushing before turning back to the bar as Mimi returned. You continued chatting as the handsome stranger observed you his blatant stare feeling less uncomfortable and more flattering as time wore on. After all you were with a friend you didn't feel unsafe. After another few drinks you checked the time and realised you would need to get home so that you could get to work on time in the morning

I think I've had enough for one night Mimi I'm going to head home" you almost shouted over the music "do you want to share a cab?"

"I think I might stay" Mimi shouted back "there are a few girls over there that I know from the gym I might just stay with them" you nodded and walked her over to the booth she mentioned promising to text her later as she settled in you waved goodbye and made your way outside to head home.

"You know if you spoke to her instead of staring you might actually have a good time" Hyunjin chuckled sitting down across the booth from Chan.

"It's not like you would strike out either she blushed when she saw you and not in an 'uncomfortable how do I react' sort of way more in a 'I think he's attractive way' " Felix agreed knocking back his drink in one gulp.

"Shut up" Chan grumbled into his drink as he watched you walk over to a booth of girls that had been eyeing Felix and Hyunjin all night.

"Oh if she is staying with them you could dance with her!" Han bounced excitedly as he teased Chan "the one with the braid has her eye on Hyunjin and the girl with the fringe is interested in Felix"

"How could she not be interested in me "Hyunjin smirked sending a flirty look to the booth.

"Again for the love of god shut up" Chan groaned this time fighting the urge to cover his face.

"I wouldn't worry about it hyung" Jeongin murmured "she's not staying with them" watching glancing quickly back to his drink.

Chan's eyes shot up to your retreating figure as you appeared to be making for the exit. Letting go of a breath he didn't realise he was holding he watched you leave and get into one of the taxis waiting out the front. He knew he had missed his chance but he was also relieved he couldn't quite remember what exactly that symbol handing from your rather alluring your neck meant and he wanted to know that before he approached you and he would approach you eventually he had heard enough of your conversation with your friend, thank you supernatural hearing, to know how to find you again.

"Her friend is staying though if that helps" Jeongin continued still unsure if Chan was even listening. Chan nodded slowly thinking over what he would even say to your friend if he was to speak to her. I seemed to be the height of poor manners to show interest in a woman to just ask her about her friends at least in his book his brothers had much looser feelings about morality now that they were more out in the open but Chan had always viewed himself more traditional, even if it was probably just because of his age.

Still mulling over what to do he noticed that Hyunjin, Felix and Changbin had taken to the dancefloor with some of the girls he watched as they made them blush and flirt back wishing he was less awkward. Han, however, had come up with an idea when Changbin returned to the booth for another round Han had started whispering to him frantically while subtly gesturing to the girls on the dance floor.

Saturday mornings were usually pretty dead for you so early in the morning so you took your time with opening the bookstore on weekends. Pulling up the shutters and unlocking the door you began to ready the store for any customers who, probably wouldn't, but may appear. It was clear this morning although the weather crisp it made for a lovely view of the street as you busied yourself dusting the endless rare books that your family always managed to acquire and straightening the new more mainstream books. The bell above the door chimed surprising you slightly as no one normally came in before lunch

"You here babes? I bought you coffee" Mimi called out sweetly making a beeline for the counter. You lent over the upper floor railing to see her still in the clothes from last night.

"So I'm assuming you had a very good night then? You didn't even answer my got home safe text. Does it count as a walk of shame if you go to a book store instead of your house?"

"I have so much to tell you" Mimi grinned, you rolled your eyes and shook your head at her before taking a long sip of the glorious coffee in front of you waiting for her to continue. "So his name is Changbin and he is drop dead gorgeous. He wouldn't confirm it but I'm pretty sure he wasn't fully human he was far too strong not to mention how rough he could be if he wanted to" you screwed up your face but she continued anyway "he had such handsome friends too Keiko hooked up with this guy who looked like he was sculpted by the gods. A few of them were definitely halfers and there was one guy that had seemed interested in you but you left before he could introduce himself"

"You can not call them that! it's rude as hell and mean Mimi" you countered before she could continue with her details.

"Yeah, yeah how am I mean to describe them then? they definitely were not fully human too good looking and too smooth" she continued with zero shame. "And like I said he had a friend that you would absolutely like we could even double date if you wanted".

The bell on the front door jingled again and you quickly shooed Mimi away to make it look like you were not just gossiping

"Thanks for the coffee but you should go now I've got customers" you whispered waving before walking towards who ever had just entered.

"Good morning welcome to Hawthorne and Bramble" you chirped "if you are looking for rare books you have come to the right place if you need assistance please just call" you returned to the counter to finish your coffee before it cooled. The guy continued to browse for some time as others came in and out to purchase stationary or popular fiction.

"Miss?" a warm deep voice called to you from upstairs you instantly made your way towards to him smiling

"Of course sir what can I get you?"

"Do you have any books on folklore beings or magical beings?" he enquired in a voice that seemed to sooth like honey you felt your cheeks flush slightly at your thoughts of him. Before nodding and leading him towards the back of the store.

"All our folklore and magic books and tomes are here. The more fiction based books are downstairs. Is there anything in particular you are after?" your question stopping him momentarily as he glanced from the books on the shelves to your face for the first time giving you a good look at him. His features were incredibly attractive a small high nose, plump lips, pretty blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles that dusted his cheekbones. His silver hair fell across his forehead making him look far younger than he probably was considering the depth of his voice. In short he was breathtaking to look at and you had to force yourself to avert your gaze back to the shelf to avoid him noticing the blush that was now surely staining your cheeks and neck.

"I'm looking for anything you have on vampires or vampire lore" he grinned cheekily catching on to how flustered you looked "The rarer the better to be truthful"

"I'm afraid we only have these four or five books that relate solely to vampire the others are all a bit more generally about supernatural beings" you tried your best to sound professional even if you heartbeat was going through the roof, pulling the books from the shelves he didn't even bother to look at the titles before looking back at you

"I'll take all of them then thank you Miss"

Nodding you went to take the books from his before he shook his head and indicated for you to head back to the counter he followed dutifully behind carrying all of the books you had mentioned. Placing them gently down for you to package up for him as he handed over a credit card to pay for them.

"Thank you for coming to Hawthorne and Bramble please visit us again" you smiled shyly as you gave him the handles of the bag of books "Should you need further books or older tomes I can have them sourced and brought in for you if it is possible for us"

"No thank you. you have been very helpful Miss…?" his bright eyes met yours and a feeling of calmness filled you. You answered quickly feeling odd that you would tell him your name so freely. You usually didn't have much small talk with customers you didn't know especially those who bought the rare books preferring not to pry or seem too interested.

"Well until next time then" he smiled almost too sweetly before exiting, before you had too much time to dwell on it though another customer entered and took your attention.

Stepping back out into the sunshine Felix grinned as he made his way back down the block to where Chan was waiting.

"Did you get all the tomes?" Chan asked slowly quirking his head at Felix's expression

"Yes I did I bought all they had…oh and I got her name for future reference" Felix smirked watching Chan stiffen slightly. Chan furrowed his brows before turning back towards their townhouse Felix trailing behind him with a bounce in his steps. The boys all adored Chan but he was so much fun to tease that they couldn't help teasing him nearly all the time.

Returning home Chan quickly returned himself and the tomes to his study, Felix had done well some of them were well over a hundred years old and although most were written by humans who had encountered one or more vampires one was written by a vampire. Settling down to read for the rest of the early morning Chan was hopeful to find what he was looking for.

Minho had heard Chan and Felix come home early usually none of them left the house before lunch so it had peaked his interest that his dearest friends were up to something but busied himself with making breakfast to pass the time. The others would be down to eat soon anyway and as the house warlock he had also taken over a good portion of the cooking duties as he was more familiar with each species Chan had inevitably brought home. All ate normal foods which made it easier to prepare but he could never be too sure if Chan would adopt a different more difficult to handle species. Cambion, Fae Folk, Pixies and Werewolves ate exactly like normal humans with occasional specialty herbs or spices that Minho could add Sirens tended to prefer seafood but Jeongin was never fussy since he was far too polite to ever complain or even request certain dishes be prepared for him and the average Incubi was easy to feed it was just Hyunjin who was overly fussy much to Minho's annoyance. The kitchen door swung open forcefully as Changbin and Han were the first to enter instantly taking their mugs of coffee that Minhon had already prepared for them.

"So let me get this right" Han started plopping himself down gracelessly at the kitchen table "you brought her friend home to hook up with her even after I asked you to get a bit of info out of her and she didn't get suspicious at all?" confusion coloured his words before he sipped his coffee

"Well first of all how could she resist this?" Changbin grinned flexing his biceps causing Han and Minho to fake gag "and secondly she was pretty tipsy and all over me I wasn't going to turn her down and I planted the idea that I had a friend with would be perfect for her friend to date"

"What and who are you even talking about? Is this about that girl who thought she was sneaking out of here this morning?" Minho asked faking interest in his friends love lives. Truthfully he didn't give a shit but if it made them happy he would support them and eventually one of them would have to find a mate anyway.

"Chan found a girl last night but was too scared to talk to her so Han and I thought we would help a brother out" Chanbin shrugged taking a long pull from his mug "I asked he friend some questions, bought her a couple of drinks then brought her back here"

"Chan wasn't scared he was just too reserved about it you know how old fashioned he is and besides he was hung up on something about her anyway" Han added defensively Minho had just about finished cooking when Seungmin, Jeongin and Hyunjin arrived each taking their normal place at the table

"I have never seen him this interested in a human before" Minho grumbled putting the last plate of food down in front of the others as Felix appeared in the doorway.

"Yeah he seemed far too interested to not do anything about it" Hyunjin agreed digging into the pancakes on his plate "I mean what if she had stayed and had hooked up with some other guy?" he trailed off watching Felix casually walk in and sit across from him

"That was never going to happen" Changbin interrupted scooping eggs onto his plate "He looked like he would have gotten feral if just some dude put his hands on her. I mean shit if she showed interest in any of us he would have been beyond furious"

"Good thing it was me that went into the bookshop to see her this morning then even if I did get her to blush" Felix smirked before shoveling cereal into his mouth.

"I'm sorry what the actual fuck?" Han yelped spitting toast and egg across the table "I did not put in all that time planning and getting wolfman over here to get info out of her drunk friend for you to sweep in and take the glory Fae boy!"

"You put in what time exactly? It was me who brought her home and got her talking before we…" Changbin started to argue

"Yes Changbin we heard the time and effort you put in" Seungmin sourly interrupted sarcasm dripping from his voice as he buttered some toast "Could we not be reminded over breakfast" Changbin grinned before they all continued to eat in silence for a few minutes

"Besides her name did you get anything else from your outing this morning Felix?" Minho tried again to get to the bottom of this human girl situation without the crude details from the others

"Nothing other than a few tomes on vampires and the fact that she is very pretty, she has brown eyes, she blushes a fantastic colour and he does in fact wear a necklace that has a vega symbol surrounded by branches although I'm not sure if they were rose branches like Chan said" Felix shrugged noticing the look of exasperation on Minho's face "Besides I know Vega symbols aren't super common in human jewellery who says she doesn't have a witch for a friend who gave it to her anyone like us would know that symbol is for protection. It wouldn't be too strange to think she got it as a gift or just bought it because she liked it, jewellery with ancient symbols goes in and out of fashion constantly"

"Her family has had that bookshop for ages according to her friend" Changbin interjected "Maybe one of the patrons of the tomes gave it to them instead of payment that used to be fairly common"

"Hold on her friend? have you not even remembered her name?" Seungmin teased causing a mix of chuckles and smirks to erupt around the table and a disgruntled noise from the werewolf

"Yeah two hundred years ago maybe Binnie but she could have befriended any of the long term customers that book shop is the only one to specialise in the kinds of tomes they have" Jeongin interrupted waving his jam covered toast "so it could just be like a heirloom or something she might not even know what it is except that it's pretty"

"Or" snapped Chan "you could keep from speculating about my damn business" He brown eyes flashing almost black in annoyance. Jeongin looked down at his plate blanching slightly at the look Chan had given them he didn't like angering the vampire especially since he had taken them all in when they needed help. Chan was a sort of collector of stray souls helping non human beings assimilate into society whilst hiding in plain sight to help them survive his kindness saving each of them from potential death had they been discovered. "Its alright Jeongin" Chan softened instantly seeing the young siren in distress serving himself some bacon and eggs "I'm not angry"

"Why are you so moody then?" Han asked hesitantly and softly "you seemed happier than you have been in decades when you saw her last night then this morning you looked like you wanted to rip apart anyone who spoke"

"Her necklace. I couldn't remember it even though I should have, that frustrated me more than it should have. I'm sorry if I was hard on you" Chan apologised just as softly being the head of the little rag tag family meant he nearly never apologised. His word was usually heeded as law and usually he was level headed but your appearance last night has shaken him more than he would ever want to admit. The kitchen was suddenly silent

"Did you just apologise? Chan? to us?" Felix spluttered shocked at this development

"I'm pretty sure that hasn't happened in three hundred years" Hyunjin teased eyes sparkling "should we throw some sort of party?"

"Don't make me take it back" Chan snipped suppressing a teasing smile "anyway I found that symbols like vega aren't that rare as you know but the surround of rose branches makes it rarer. Its a symbol of a clan that was around about 700 years ago they wore it for protection as they worked and travelled I'm not sure if hers is an original but if it was it would have words 'tenebrae finiantur in lucem' engraved around the edge of it. Did you happen to see anything like that Felix while you were making her blush?" Chan finished looking to the younger boy who looked like he was trying hard to remember every single detail about his encounter with you and not noticing the borderline exasperated look on Chan's face.

"To be honest Chan I didn't see anything like that but I also didn't know to look at it that closely. I could always go back to get another book and look at it to see if it did though" Felix's eyes shone hopefully trying to help his older brother however he could and talking with you hadn't been difficult for him he thought you were cute.

"What does that mean anyway? I know its latin but it's been a few centuries since I bothered to use latin" Segumin asked genuinely interested where this development was going.

"The darkness will be ended by the light" Minho answered easily flicking his fingers to vanish the used dishes away.

"Indeed. It was the creed of a clan of hunters they had families all over the world who specialised in hunting vampires, werewolves and demons to protect humanity. Although usually they themselves were not all that holy usually they were more dangerous than us. I would like to find out if she is in fact descended from them" Chan explained easily sipping his tea.

"Are you shitting me you finally take interest in anyone outside our little band of the damned and it's a woman who hunts our kind? have you gone senile? Chanbin exploded suddenly standing

"Chill out Binnie you will give yourself a hernia. Chan knows what he doing" Han immediately grabbing him by his arm pulling him back down to the table "besides there are no hunters anymore he said it was from hundreds of years ago"

"There are no more monster hunters" Chan reassured him "my kind killed nearly all of them and if she was one she did a lousy job identifying any of us last night or more importantly Felix this morning" the mood in the kitchen became pensive again.

"So are you going to ponder this forever or are you going to fuck her?" Minho asked loudly causing Chan to glare at him "what it's a legitimate question" he shrugged watching Chan closely and the others snickered

"Considering he's never spoken too her, stared at her for an hour from across the bar on a night out and has now sent Lix into do recconasance on her I would say no he is probably just going to stalk her until she dies of natural causes" Hyunjin smirked getting to his feet "besides I wanted to go paint in the park so I will be heading out today" striding from the kitchen into the rest of the house.

"I mean the haughty Incubi and cranky Warlock have a point. You do sort of seem creepy just staring and stuff" Han ventured running out of the room giggling before Minho could send some sort of spell after him.

Minho shook his head at the door the Pixie had just run through before turning his attention back to his older brother who was sitting looking intently into his tea.

"I'll go in tomorrow or Monday I need to see if the grimoire I asked for has arrived." Minho offered tentatively "besides if she saw you last night she might panic if you appear again so soon" Chan nodded sighing.

A/N Thanks for reading and comments, reblogs or suggestions are deeply appreciated. If you would like to be in the taglist let me know💕

Taglist: @lotus-dly, @thegoddessharmony

[meiluu]

Let me Protect you

Simon “Ghost” Riley / Reader(female, no descriptors used)(can be read as gender neutral)

Code name for reader: leeloo (yes, this is from 5th element but it relates to the story…kinda lol)

Warnings: arguments, soft ghost </3 , protective ghost, kissing

Word count: 1500+

Summary: after a mission that leads you to be injured Ghost seems to change, never wanting to leave your side during a mission. You confront him and well…

pt. 2

------

Reader pov.

Being the newest member of task force 141, or relatively new since I had been with them for little over 3 years now, it had been pretty stressful at first. Since I was working with the best of the best, which intimidated me to no end. But I had slowly managed to become comfortable and confident with myself and with my team members. And even being able to call most of them my friends…well all but one. That one being Ghost, aka Simon Riley. Ghost was an enigma, a beautiful and intimidating enigma. I had tried to become friends with him or at least have him be somewhat amicable towards me. But that seemed to be an impossible task, he wasn’t mean or unnecessarily difficult to work with, he just didn’t seem to care. At first I had thought I had pissed him off or had done something to insight this flippant nature but after racking my brain I couldn’t find anything, so I gave up much to my heart’s dissatisfaction. As I had stupidly developed a tiny crush on the skull faced Lieutenant.

Even after 3 years his attitude hadn’t really changed much, back in the past I remembered talking to Soap about it to see if he would know if Ghost would ever warm up to me. And he had just shaken his head letting out a chuckle, calling me and ghost a bunch of idiots and hadn’t spoken much else on the topic. 

But even with Ghost’s uncaring attitude, my time with 141 had been adrenaline inducing and chaotic. And it’s kinda how I got my name, “leeloo” was bestowed upon me during one of my first missions. 

The mission had… to put it simply, gone to shit, and in my haste to communicate that to the guys I had spewed utter gibberish, and somehow they were able to figure out what was going on. Luckily we all made it back to base, though we did have a couple of injuries, but unfortunately the entire flight back Soap and Gaz couldn’t stop laughing at my little episode, it even got a couple of chuckles out of the Captain. But it was on that flight that Soap had brought up the name for the fact that I had sounded like leeloo. So the name stuck, and I even grew to love it.

But I digress, Ghost’s attitude towards me had drastically changed after one of our recent missions I had gotten injured, pretty badly. After that mission Ghost had become almost obsessively protective over me compared to previously, for the past few missions he had been overly cautious toward me. Which had made sense in the beginning when this first started as my injuries had been pretty severe. But this protectiveness had only gotten worse and I was currently making my way to Ghost to talk to him about it. I had stalled a good hour hyping myself up to face the intimating lieutenant. After gathering the courage and finding out he had just gotten finished with a briefing, I was now headed his way.

Though my stride had slowly turned into a slow walk as I ran through all the scenarios in my head on what I should say…and none seemed right.

My thoughts are interrupted by me catching Ghost’s figure leaving the meeting room, headed towards the back exit.

“Lieutenant!” Cringing internally at how loud that was, Ghost whipped around at my call, eyes livid.

“What is it, sergeant?” Irritation rolled off him in waves but I don’t think it was all directed at me…or maybe I’m just imagining it.

I was just gonna start rambling away but there were still some people around, “can we go someplace more private. I need to talk to you.” keeping my voice a whisper so as to not embarrass myself further. Ghost lets out a huff of agreement leading us away.

We end up a little bit away from the back of our main facility on the base, it’s completely devoid of people.

Ghost fully facing me waits for me to talk, wringing my hands out as I begin.

“What’s up with you lately? It’s like you’ve been breathing down my neck for the past couple of missions…”

“I don’t see how that’s a problem.” 

“Ghost I’m not a child, I don’t need you to coddle me on every mission. And I don’t even understand why you’d want to anyway, it’s not like you.”

His eyes narrow, “I don’t coddle you, you are just a fucking magnet for trouble so I try to limit that as much as possible.”

“A magnet for trouble? Are you still hung up over that last mission? It’s been months since then Ghost, I'm fine and I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I know I’ll make sure of that.”

“Are you serious! Ghost I don’t understand you one minute you go from uncaring, like I’m just a speck of dust, to now you want to guard me like some knight in shining armor!” Ghost's body seems to tense up, eyes burning into mine, the black paint around them accompanied with the mask makes him all the more terrifying.

Letting out a puff of breath, seeing as Ghost hasn’t said anything yet so I continue, “Ghost what is it that’s got you so wound up that you have to be near me 24/7 while we are on a mission! I don’t get it!”

“Because I fucking care about you!”

Sucking in a breath my eyes go wide.

“what..” my voice, nothing but a whisper.

A muffled shit leaves him before he takes a step towards me, towering over me. “You heard me sergeant.”  my heart was trying to beat its way out my chest, my mind was completely blank. Is this what Soap had meant when he had called us “a bunch of idiots” had he seen this… how could I not see this, well Ghost isn't the easiest person to read. 

“I…I don't-” stumbling on my words

“I know my recent behavior isn't welcomed… fuck” his sentence trails off as he tries to find the words. “You just attract danger, it's like every bullet is aimed at you… and I don't want to lose you. That last mission, you scared me… I thought that we-I was going to lose you for good.” his voice dropped to murmur. His eyes are no longer locked onto mine instead looking off to the side.

Words failing me, I reach my hand out. Softly grabbing his.

“Simon you aren’t going to lose me.”

“You don't know that, you can't promise that.” his eyes are back on me, his hand tightly holding onto mine as to further his point.

“Simon why didn’t you say something, I would have been a bit more willing to give in and accept your protectiveness had I known.”

His eyes hold a type of pain that I can't figure out. “It’s not just me caring about you like a teammate…it’s so much more than that.” Voice so soft like his afraid I’ll run and hide. 

“Simon…you like me?” emphasizing ‘like’. My cheeks burn at his nod that answers me. When, where, and how did Simon Riley begin to like me more as a teammate? My mind swirls with questions. 

Then my mind seems to quiet when he leans down closer to my face, asking if he can kiss me, not even remembering if I nodded or said yes…maybe I did both. But it wasn’t as important as his lips on mine a heartbeat later . He had quickly pulled up his mask just enough to free his mouth. They were warm and a little bit chapped but I was completely lost in the feel of Him.

Pulling away from me. Resting his head against mine, he lets out a deep rumble from his chest “God you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

A gentle laugh leaves me, “I can guess.” I just know I have a stupid smile on my face. His hands cup my face again and he captures my lips once again. Raising my hands to cup the back of his keeping him locked with me. His tongue swipes at my bottom lip, almost reflexively I open up to him. Hands leaving my face, traveling down past my throat sending shivers down my spine. One hand lingers to cup the back of my head the other trails to the small of my back pulling me even closer to him. This kiss is tentative, but I can feel every emotion rolling off him and into me. It’s intoxicating, the sounds around us seem to drown out completely,  all my ears are listening to are the occasional groans that tumble out of him.

Pulling away from one another barely a breath apart, ghosts eyes lock onto mine. “Let me protect you while we are on missions. Please.” A ‘yes’ answers his plea. How could I deny him this? Not when my heart is trying to beat out my chest wanting to burrow next to his. My crush that I had buried for so long seems to flourish with love, and hope that this will develop into something more.

[tales-from-nocturnaliss]

30 Days of Autism Acceptance 2023 - catching up!

Figured it'd be a fun thing to do this year, since, y'know: this is the year that marked my official diagnosis as autistic. I'll answer several questions at once since I missed the previous days from not knowing this existed (social mishaps ftw!)

If you wanna participate, check out @birdofmay's blog or click through this link!

1 April: The typical introduction question! Tell us something about yourself.

I'm a 42-yo Belgian writer of Dark Fantasy who was diagnosed autistic this past January after a few years of absolute hell trying to figure out wtf was wrong with me. Turns out: likely intense autistic burnout!

On a more positive note though, I also likely have symptoms of ADHD - which is positive because it makes me able to function in the world on a more NT level I'd say, like doing things on a whim, enjoying change and exploring and, in a way, balancing the autism out. Mostly. The conflictual needs and wants have caused me a lot of mental and physical stress that I'm still trying to recover from.

On a fun note now: I have two cats I adore, a husband who's sometimes just as dysfunctional as I am (likely why he sniffed me out when we were still teens << but we only really met when I was 29; he remembered me from seeing me at school though!), currently unemployed because health, love to fangirl my characters (and anime dudes <<), somehow have a wide circle of friends of all nationalities and personalities because individuals are awesome and fascinating (I'm obsessed with psychology and emotions), and... Yeah. If you'd like to know anything else, do simply ask :D I love answering questions.

2 April: When were you diagnosed and when did you know that you're autistic? If you're self-diagnosed, when did you first suspect that you're autistic and when were you sure?

So it's both, actually. Last year, a good friend of mine talked to me about how she thought she was autistic, and shared a lot of info on women-specific autism... and that's when I saw that everything I thought I knew about autism was but a tiny fraction of a very wide spectrum. I recognized myself in what I read. I was on a quest for self-understanding to finally know what ailed me. I needed to know (which, let it be said, seems to be an autistic trait unto its own <<)

That was August. In October, I decided I had to be tested. November through December, five tests. Result in January. Diagnosis confirmed. I was ELATED. Because, finally, my whole life made sense. I am still so immensely relieved and happy to know.

3 April: How good or bad is your memory for things people say? For example verbal instructions.

My memory's gotten worse over time, likely from years of over-stress. I tend to let a lot of things leave my memory - including things people say. Verbal instructions... Because I know I have a tendency to forget, I prefer them written so I can read them over if/when needed. It's why I do everything official via email, put in appointments in my phone's calendar immediately, etc.

Funnily enough, I still remember a few words from one autism test I did back in November. So there's some logic to what's retained and what not. Repetition of words seems to be key.

4 April: Were/are you in special education? Regular school? Home schooled? A private school? Did it change over time? Did/do you like it?

I was in regular school. I'm 42. When I was a teen, depression wasn't even recognized as a real disease. Autism? Never heard of that. I was just an anxiety-ridden, fragile, naturally heavily bullied young girl who suffered ten years of depression afterwards and intense social anxiety. ... Damn I hated school so much. XD (and myself for just not fitting in :3; )

5 April: Did/do you have accommodations at school/IEP? If not, do you think it would help/have helped you?

I imagine it would have, had we known I was autistic.

6 April: Can you understand what people say when they talk fast, or do you lose track after a while? Was it different when you were younger?

Good question, with 'younger' feeling so far away... I did notice my speech recignition declined these past years, like when watching movies. However, since trying ginkgo and ginseng supplements to alleviate ADHD symptoms, and how magically they also alleviated anxieties and stress overall, I notice my speech recognition improved again.

So, to answer: in general I understand people who talk really fast, best of all in french (my native language). However, I do lose track if people talk in monotones. I think my brain gets bored and nopes out of there.

7 April: Do you have other diagnoses? What are they? Do you think that some could be incorrect?

I don't. Which I think is a mistake in itself, because I relate too intensely and completely to AuDHD perceptions. I was told it might be my higher IQ (officially 119, but I couldn't do the language tests as my brain demanded: in all three languages I know. So it's a bit higher) causing conflicts with the autism. Like, I was told a normal person thinks in a fast, straight line; autistics think in zigzags to get to the same point. They said I take the zigzags like they are a fast, straight line. And I'm like: okay sure I feel your point, but what about my mind always feeling torn in different directions and my inability to focus and how sometimes I adore change and other times not etc etc?

I'm not diagnosed AuDHD, but live that way anyway. Because that's what feels right. And trying to treat a possible ADHD has helped me. So instinct >>> NT experts, tyvm.

---

Aaaand tomorrow I'll continue these day by day :D woot to catching up and focussing and getting something done!

[fresa-schnee]

day 26: Could Have Been Anyone.

The Seraphim grunted as she felt her wings hitch and buckle as a technician meddled with them. The two smaller, natural, wings on her wrists fluttering in protest as she remained silent. She had gotten used to the pain, but the random jolts still got her sometimes during maintenance. She grunted as the wings shot out, and stretched.. She gave a sigh of relief as she felt them loosen up.

“There we go, all done!” A voice spoke up, and patted the Seraphim on the back. “That should be enough for another six months, Lady Violma.”

“Thank you.” The Seraphim said dryly as she stood. She stretched her wings, and found relief as she found that they didn’t get caught on anything. Their form was almost natural to that of a normal Angel’s, but anyone with an astute eye could see the wiring and mechanics swirling about just underneath the metallic silver plating.

“Will.. that be all Lady Violma?” The mechanic asked again, staring at the Seraphim a bit nervously.

“Indeed.. Thank you for the help again.” She nodded to the woman, and walked out of the room.. The wings on her wrists and ankles twitching with each step. There was a slight shift in her walk with each step, but she had grown to ignore it over the years. It used to be much worse when.. 

She shook her head, no, no need to think about that sort of thing right now. What happened in the past should stay there.. Even if the consequences are harder to get rid of. Yet she wouldn’t have changed the outcome.

She stopped, a smaller Angel having stepped in front of her. Her eye covered up with a set of bandages, and her raven black hair made her look as if she had feathers instead of hair. Her smile as always was as radiant as ever, and Violma couldn’t help but smile back.

“Greetings Mistress Veigna, glad to see you’re in high spirits.” Violma greeted her, and the angel raised an eyebrow.

“‘Mistress Veigna’? Come now Violma, haven’t we known each other long enough for you to call me Malina?” She teased, and moved to Violma’s side, and elbowed the Seraphim gently.

“It would be rather disrespectful to- oof!” Violma gasped as Malina jabbed at her again. “Lady-!” As she’s bumped again, Violma couldn’t help but make a very silent chuckle. “Alright, alright. Lady Malina.”

Malina huffed and shook her head. “Well it’s a start I suppose.” As she smiled the two made their way outside, now walking through a gorgeous garden. Other angels coming and going past the two. 

“So how are the wings? They seem to be good as new!” Malina spoke, trying to get the conversation rolling.

“Indeed.. They don’t catch on every movement now. I just hope that they’ll stay like this longer than a few months.” Violma stretches her wings as she responds. The ‘feathers’ twitch with the movement to make them seem lifelike. “I have to give credit where credit is due.. Even I forget sometimes these aren’t real.”

“That’s good! Have.. you gotten better at flying with them? I recall last we spoke you said you had trouble with them.”

Violma thought back in that moment.. And her cheeks turned red as she had crashed into a tree in front of the other Seraphims to test her wings. “Erm… It’s lead to mixed results.”

Malina giggled, and Violma’s face turned more red as her wings awkwardly folded behind her back. “So not very good?” She teased, and Violma rolled her eyes.

“Beyond that I have been doing rather well.. I just needed to do a checkup. My wings kept getting locked up. Apparently their mechanisms had corroded..” She sighed and raised a hand to gently grab at one of the wings. “The damage wasn’t severe, but I don’t really know what caused it to degrade so fast.. Damned things..”

“...Right.” Malina’s face fell solemn for a moment. “I’m.. Sorry for-”

“Don’t.” Violma cut her off. “I don’t blame you for what happened. I’d do it again anyhow, just to make sure you stay safe.” 

“I don’t mind that I had to give up my wings to do that. Or that I violated several rules. Just glad you’re okay.” Violma smiled, and Malina just shook her head. 

“Alright alright.. Just stop with the mushy talk. It doesn’t suit you.” Malina teased, and walked past Violma as she stopped.

Breaking out of her stunned state, Violma chased after her. “Hey! What in the world does that mean!?”

As Violma chased after Malina, her mind wandered a bit.. She didn’t mind what happened to her. Her mechanical wings were a burden to handle, but she wouldn’t have put it on Malina. Or anyone else for that matter. She glad it was her that was harmed, and not anyone else.

[slam-dunkrai]

This started out as a fairly simple celebratory life update and then turned into a big unwieldy post I’m putting under the cut in case you don’t want to see that kind of talk. Content warning for weight loss and body shaming.

tl;dr: I have started working out and eating better over the course of the last several months; I’m very happy with the effect this has had on me; contrary to the desired effect, being shamed for my weight and also shaming myself for my it made me not want to do that and actually made me feel worse (shocker, I know); the BMI can eat shit

The other day I discovered I now fit into regular large T-shirts fairly easily — about 18 months ago, a 2XL was very much a slim fit for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted about this, but there’s also something a little odd on my mind about it. While I have eaten healthier and, in the last month, started going to the gym regularly, I can’t help but observe this coincides with a time in my life where I don’t feel like I’ve needed to lose weight; rather, I’ve been more content than ever in the knowledge that being fat isn’t a sign of moral failure. The body is just a sack of meat which houses me; its shape and weight have no moral value, but its chemical processes plays a significant part in how I feel. Since I reckon I deserve to feel good, I reason it only makes sense for me to look after it to the best of my ability; this has included cooking for myself more often, keeping note of my three meals a day (while also allowing myself a snack where needed), eating more vegetables, drinking more water, trying to be more active where I can — things of that nature, which, in my own, distinctly non-universal experience, have led me to lose weight.

Part of this change is that I’ve been in much fewer situations over the past two years where I’ve been subject to “cute” remarks about my weight and body type; part of me suspects that, as I’ve gotten older, people have been less inclined to be all infantilising about it (though this is likely a stretch; I’m 6′6″, of a wide frame, and I have a beard, I just haven’t looked like the sort of person who gets seen like that in a while). But what weighs on my mind is that, beyond being obviously insidious in ways more eloquently pointed out elsewhere, there is something self-defeating about the way very select types of body are seen and talked about as “ideal” or “correct”; deviations from this norm are “wrong” and to be punished until the possesser of this body, sinner that they are, repents and conforms to how they should be — thin, and therefore good. I spent a lot of my teenage years hating my body (and by extension myself) for being fat, unathletic, and not as a man’s body should be; surprisingly, you don’t tend to want to care for a vessel you’ve been led to believe is fundamentally inadequate, and I decided just treating it like shit was punishment enough. (It’s also notable that I’ve since realised I feel more comfortable identifying as what I can best describe as “man, But Not Quite”; we’re still figuring this one out, check back later.)

Again, these experiences are solely my own, and I am happier with how I take care of myself these days; the resulting changes to my appearance are a side effect I happen to like, but ultimately secondary to being happier in my daily life. Still, it really is wild how normalised it is for people to just call attention to how fat strangers are, unsubtly implying that this is some great wrong, and then when asked to defend this they’ll call it a form of care that will spur their target to decide on the spot — as though it’s so easy, uncomplicated and desirable for everyone — to lose weight. Y’know, because not looking a certain way is apparently shameful to some guy who already hates you; that’s why you should change your lifestyle.

[imarawbu]

Loneliness is becoming very bad right now and I made the mistake of watching a 90s movie today so I triggered a bunch of memories of my ex husband. The reason why this is a trigger is he used to make me watch a lot of 90s and early 00s movies, that's literally all we did together, especially after the divorce.

I remember I was feeling bad because that guy I mentioned, let's just call him F instead of the "guy whose mom I'm friends with," was clearly not interested in me and I was very stressed by my classes and ended up dropping two. I went to him and we "hung out" during the day, a lot. I realized after a week the mistake I made. His parents knew and wanted him to invite me more for dinners and such. His dad changed the oil on my car. Maybe they thought I'd get back together with him... I was always told I was always welcome in their house. Ironically these few times are the last times I have ever seen them in person. 4 months later I cut him off and I sent a nice text to my former mil that I appreciated her kindness to me. Anyways during the marriage he had us watch more recently released movies because he was pirating them or we'd watch Hulu when he got caught for torrenting. To me it was just hilarious how someone could be so dumb to almost get sued for pirating lol.

Since I can't talk to anyone and can only post anonymously or basically not at all everything is so much more suffocating. There's literally nothing I get much joy out of anymore. I know I have a severe entertainment addiction, which basically I need to have something to entertain me when I'm awake, whether that's watching/listening to the TV, on the phone, or playing computer games (a new thing actually). I can't sit without playing something, doing something, watching something.

I was never into social media much until my marriage with my ex husband, then I was on all the time for hours and it's only gotten worse. Before that I used the Internet to research and learn stuff, which I do still do but it's confined to social media. I'd spend days researching all over the Internet whatever I found interesting until I was basically an expert on it and got bored. My grades of course suffered as a result but I always say I learned what I learned in spite of school and not because of it. As I am a walking encyclopedia to the extreme lol, I memorize everything I read. I don't really blame myself school was unbearable for me because of my social awkwardness and bullying but it was worse from my mother at home and by the time I got home, all I wanted to do was distract myself from the horror of my life. Most of my teenage years are a blur as I had severe dissociation problems back then. When you are basically on a dissociative autopilot most of the day, you have no energy for homework and have to do something to keep yourself from trying to kill yourself. If I'd grown up in a nice, nurturing, caring environment, I would have probably graduated high school before I was a teenager. Instead I'm a 25 year old with no degree, with a kid, who's been through two abusive marriages and homeless if she leaves the abusive marriage now.

Anyways back to the entertainment addiction, it started with books, I got bored in school in elementary school and would read under the desk, this did somewhat continue until high school the books just got bigger to hide under the desk so I had to try other things to not go crazy sitting at the desk. I still wish I was into books the way I was back then. Once I started reading on a Kindle in high school, it wasn't long till I started doing everything on screens.

It's just difficult to see how things have changed the past several years and how I have changed. I was a completely different person before I got married, some changes were good but most were me trying to change myself to fit what I thought the ideal wife was like, which in this case is the woman who F married. And I succeeded. My home decoration is better, I cook better, my home is cleaner and better organized, and my daughter isn't addicted to TV, is cuter, and 20x smarter. Lol I only failed in the skinny department.

I was much more geekier back then, wanted to become a doctor, was always reading research papers, etc. before my previous marriage I was also completely different but most of that was from converting to Islam. I do think back into what life would be like now if my ex had cleaned his life up and grew up like everyone was trying to get him to do. I'd have been married to him for seven years at the end of this year. Wow. I would have been at his brother's wedding celebration that happened at the end of last month and at their nikah in 2022- we'd actually share a pretty close wedding anniversary.

I mean we'd have been very poor, I'd be working retail and he'd be working retail, we'd probably be living at his parents. If he was the person who I originally met when I was sneaking around and before he got off of meds, things would have been probably ok in marriage life. But yeah he was an abusive and crazy piece of shit so too bad. Now he's 37 years old, living with his parents who are in their late 60s now, and probably can't take care of him much anymore. He can't hold a job for more than a few weeks. His health has probably caught up with him, he was a heavy smoker, never took his contacts out, eats junk food like crazy because he smokes weed all the time.... Anyways I don't care. Probably the only good thing he did in his life was somehow being a part of helping someone become a Muslim.

I just wish there was somewhere I could go something I could do to erase those years and go back and start over. At 25, I already feel too old, since my first marriage I've always felt 20 years older than my age, before that it was more like 5. It's impossible to relate to people, especially those my age.

It's becoming very clear that I am quickly falling into depression. Which makes sense when Im on burn out all the time, overworked, unsupported, have no one to talk to, and now also physically sick and no where close to getting better.

[slenderfirebolt]

!'Therapy Friend' is not a healthy relationship!

at least not inheritly. I feel compelled to write this out after having experiences Quite A Lot over the past year or so, and while i have now recovered basically completely from the Consequences of my Actions (and of the actions of others), i think its important to note down a few things that i have learned in hope that a few less people will make the same mistakes, or miss the same red flags, as i have made and missed. some of these are probably obvious and its just the autism that screwed me over, while many might be more useful to everyone. First of all just to disclose any biases i may have, i am a former 'therapy friend' and have also been the person getting 'therapy friended'. in addition to this, i am in my second year of my Psychology major, and while i am ***far*** from able to properly do any kind of actual therapy work (this isnt an 'as a psych major rant dw), i have gotten very good at identifying exactly how catastrophically bad my mistakes were, so without further ado, heres what i have learned in my time so far; Sympathy =/ Empathy: fairly obvious as a concept, but the real issue is how effective/ineffective sympathy and empathy can be with regards to trying to make your friends feel better. Empathizing with someone can often lead to you to feel a need to 'prove' that you also went though something similar to them. this is *not good*, as it can end up bringing everyone down, and if your in a bad mood from your memories, your not going to be helping very much. Sympathy seems to be fine, so long as it is wanted. NOT everyone wants someone to feel sorry for them. DONT OVERSHARE: probably the second most important on this list, 'oversharing' can be a lot more minor than you would think at first, at least with regards to quantity, but very quickly it builds up into a Severe Problem. ideally, the person your trying to help wont know jack about you beyond what is necessary (this is why 'Therapist' and 'Friend' dont overlap very well, since having lots of knowledge on eachother is common for friends). you dont want the person your worried about feel worse because they are worried about you. DONT let this aspect of your relationship DEFINE your relationship!!!! this is probably the biggest on here, and a fuckup that i had made Several times before learning my lesson. if your relationship with someone is defined by the pain you share between eachother, one of two things is going to happen. either the relationship will begin to fade once the pain is gone, or the pain will persist to keep the relationship going. while it is possible that one could have a nice relationship with someone after the pain is gone, that can really only happen if theres more depth to your connection, and any connection based on being 'grateful' is going to get very dubious very fast. Set your own boundaries and follow them: easy for some people, not easy for others. while you may not initially think that your being effected by having people vent at you, or by talking people out of their own malignant thoughts, it can start draining from you without you noticing, and can worsen your own mental health dramatically before you even notice. Prioritize Yourself: hardest one to do for some people, but incredibly important. someone who is not mentally well wont be of much help, so you have to make sure your mental health is in top shape if you want to fill this kind of role. Make sure people want your help. i missed this one a lot, since i just *assumed* that if people were in pain, they would want relief from their pain. this is *not* always true, and you can only truly help someone who *wants* to be helped. you cannot truly CHANGE people, you can only help them change themselves, and this is true for aiding people in dealing with mental health.

Be Their Friend. sounds very obvious, and it connects to several other points on this list. you have to be someone's friend *first*, if you arent doing that, your just an untrained 'therapist' trying your best. this list is not meant to make people who *arent* doing some of these feel guilty, its more of a PSA than anything, and its not meant to make people with 'therapy friends' feel guilty either. that being said, to those that do have 'therapy friends', theres a few important things to remember. - Dont emotionally invest yourself into someone not emotionally stable, it will hurt you both in the long run - Seek professional help if possible for professional problems. friends can give you advice, and i would personally encourage them to give it when it is welcome, but any kind of diagnostic work should at the very least be researched a bit more in depth. that being said, if you find that some methods of treating something help you... - Do what helps You. maybe you cant get a diagnosis due to time and money, maybe your afraid of the consequences. i can understand that, and plenty of other people can as well. you cant always 'solve' some problems, some of them you just have to wait out until they are gone, and then start moving forward. - Be open about what you want from your friendship. the thing that managed to lose me a lot of friends as both the 'therapist' and 'therapee' was people not being open about what kind of friendship they wanted, and if they were comfortable with having/being a 'therapy friend' it sucks to have to confront people, but making sure this stuff is down can save friendships. Take everything i have said here with a healthy amount of salt, since its only from my experience, and may not be universal. be kind and honest to your friends, and try your best to be united by something other than your common pains. very few mistakes are irreparable, i have made *countless*, and even though i have lost many friends, i have gained many more, and at the end of the tunnel, i have come out a happier and more capable person.

[united-under-skyfall]

ok. so! before i start this i'm just going to remind that the tag for blacklisting is -> inks is reclaiming the attention span

now then. this is mostly just a personal project for myself, but i'm posting about it here for accountability purposes, and in case anyone has any advice or something.

short version: this is going to be me trying to rebuild my attention span in various ways.

long version: i've noticed over the past couple of years that my attention span has gotten increasingly worse.

i can no longer focus enough to read physical books, or watch one thing all the way through without also doing something else. i often can't focus enough even reading on my phone to read, for example, a full chapter, even if it's something i genuinely love, without cycling through at least three other things i'm reading in thirty seconds, finally settling back on it, and then repeating the process ten seconds later. other times, i need a video of something or other playing in the corner of my screen, just to provide some other colors and noises so i can read even though i'm not paying attention to the video itself. more and more often, i can't go to sleep anymore without listening to something. i can't sit down and work on something for several hours just to make a dent in it or get it done, again, even if i genuinely really enjoy it, or it's a completely optional personal project. needless to say: i do not like this.

i used to be able to work on things for several hours straight without needing constant distractions and changes in stimuli, tear through whole books in a day, etc. now, i genuinely cannot remember the last time i made it past five pages of a real, physical book of my choice when it wasn't for a class—and the ones that are for classes are about ten times more of a chore than they ought to be, too. it's been literal years, at least. that's... really fucking sad to me. it's almost impossible for me to get work done if it's not physical, which is a problem for a lot of reasons.

i'm not sure if this is because of my current state of mental health, too much screen-time, both of those, or something else entirely, but it's something i desperately want and need to work on.

i have some ideas, though not all of them are very good and it'll probably be slow going—but building some tolerance slowly is better than none at all.

to start with, i'm going to try just reading a physical book for 10 minutes a day. just going somewhere distraction free, setting a timer, and doing nothing but read until it goes off. as that (hopefully) gets easier, i'm going to start increasing the time. i currently don't have a lot to work on to test things beyond reading, but if/when i do, those exercises will also go in this tag.

progress updates, complaints, and celebrations related to this project will go in this tag as well.

[tharrb]

Running from this nightmare: chapter 1

Dear jo 2, I now know why my life is the way it is. Why things always turn for the worst. It’s because it’s not my destiny to be happy.

The past summer months have been a blur to Marcy. Ever since she moved to Springwood, Ohio, her life has only gotten worse.

Her parents demanded that she cut things out of her life. No more talking to Anne and Sasha(dead weights, as they called them). No more of the fantasy crap. Only focusing on what’s really important; her grades and her future.

Distance and time might not break a friendship, but parental intervention is another story. Still, she couldn’t fault them for wanting to protect her. And they do seem to sympathize with her. Even if they act like nothing happened.

I made a mistake. I tried to fight destiny. I should be dead, but that would be far too kind a punishment. Slowly, fate blinded me, so I wouldn’t see it coming. It would give me a sliver of hope.

And then it would take away everything. Everyone would abandon me in the end. No one would care. Everyone would leave, and they wouldn’t even look back.

Marcy’s physical and mental health have been declining. The sudden acclimation to a new environment made all her old wounds flare up, and she spent most of the summer bed ridden. And even when she wasn’t sick, she refused to leave her room. Ironic how even when she wasn’t into escapism, she was still stuck inside herself.

She’s been seeing a therapist, albeit not a good one. But she doubts that a good one could help her with her nightmares. All the memories of her being trapped in the core, seeing what it did to her and to her friends, slowly came back to Marcy. Her dreams were plagued by orange… and for some reason, red and green.

Her parents tell her to make new friends, but how can she? Amphibia taught her that there’s no one she can trust. She can never open her heart, never let her guard down, because what if they just want to use her?

It’s not my place to have friends. It’s not my place to follow my heart. Even my place in the prophecy was to be a battery for Anne. So, this is me, accepting change and letting go of my desires.

Marcy’s dad knocked on her door. ‘Your mother made dinner.” He said. Opening the door, he gave Marcy a sympathetic look as he sat the plat down. “School is tomorrow. You’ll needed to come out of your room.”

Marcy stared at him. Not in anger, but tiredness. “Can’t I just do online classes?” She said, her voice emphasize a weariness well beyond her years. “Marcy” her dad said, trying to coax her out gently. “getting out of the house will do you some good.”

Marcy gave him no answer. Her father sighed. “I’m going to drag you out if I have to.” Marcy grumbled a fine before taking her diner and closing the door.

Mr.Wu went back down to his wife. “You think she’ll stay up there forever?” Marcy’s mother asked her husband. “It just a phase, she’ll get over it.” He replied.

It was the first day of school. Marcy was able to skip several grades and was already in her senior year of high school. She was always an outcast at home. Being the youngest kid at the school would have made it worse. Not have her girls to protect her only made bullying certain.

Still, as she was driven to her new school, Marcy could get that one dream from the other night out of her head. It involved jump roping girls, singing an odd poem.

One, two, Freddy's coming for you.

Three, four, Better lock your door.

Five, six, grab a crucifix.

Seven, eight, Gonna stay up late.

Nine, ten, Never sleep again...

[flowerchildwren]

2022 art review :]

Every year I like to take one piece from each month and go over it, what I like, what I don’t and how my art changed over the year 

January- absolute dead eyed stare, I choose to not draw faces on both those statues only to put no effort into the center character’s face. This piece is the beginning of the bright colors that have had a choke hold on my art ever since

February- old Comet design my beloathed. I was trying to do something with this piece and it really just doesn’t work at all the values are awful. I will give this piece credit though, this is the birth of Comet but boy does it show

March- This has got to be my favorite piece of the year but I really really want to redraw this because there are things I really want to fix like the background (lord those pillars are rough) and posing to make things a bit more interesting 

April- purble. I still think the concept behind this character is fun but like, you can really tell this is a first design, most under designed Goddess ever. I think the muddiness was there in the march art but its really apparent in this piece 

May- I really havent wanted to draw faces these past months huh? The shading is just so muddy it was honestly at its worse during this time. This piece is also just so nothing, like for a piece about setting a church on fire with a magical stick you think it wouldn’t be so boring

June- Pride elf!

 this is the coloring style I ended up adopting for Super V later in the year and god do I regret that. I wish I’d put more effort into the coloring on this because despite this piece taking like 5 hours It really doesn’t look it, but it’s a start I hope I don’t abandon it for several months

July- oh no. Anyway this is my most popular piece of art ever which if I knew that I wouldn’t have done nothing with the background. The muddiness is back with a vengeance and i feel like I should have emphasized the light source more even though it is just a candle. Sorry for making you all cry tho my bad

August- the typo in the original post still makes me chuckle. I tried to do some minor perspective work with this piece in the arm and it really doesn’t work huh. This has got to get redrawn this is the cover for my comic man, It just looks very low effort, which is most likely because I made it while I was on vacation

September- oh hey look that coloring style is back. Man this one just doesn’t look good. I think it’s the head and the left backpack strap I also just didn’t do any work on the center part of the hoodie, I did end up shifting away from this coloring style in my general art though since I don’t like doing it

October- mmm lot of experamentation this year huh, this shading style is also very bad don’t worry this is it. This was just some artsy hand practice but I really stood have just stuck to standard hand practive because that left one only has four fingers

November- I should have just gotten rid of that railing :/ 2023 is going to be the year I work on backgrounds I promise. I don’t mind this one too much, I think I just have a chase of staring at a piece so much I start to hate the sight of it

December- man this one really isn’t good either :/ I was doing a lot of experminentation this year and never really commited and worked on stuff long enough, except the bright colors, those came in like day one and they stuck with me. 

[v0idtalking]

November 24th, 2022

So I saw a couple pictures of her, of Serena. The only ones I have, from over at least 5 years ago. I always wish I had more, pretend I don't wish it, tell myself it's for the best, turn around and call myself an idiot for deleting the others--wash, rinse, repeat.

I know it's stupid. I know I should delete them. They're grainy and they're bad and they're old because I know we aren't those kids anymore. And that's why it makes me feel so stupid for being so torn up inside about her. We were kids.

I need to get over it, because it was so long ago. She doesn't think of me, despite all the things she said and did. I know she doesn't. She was awkward when I reached out to her, again so long ago, back in what, sophomore year? It'd been at least a couple years since we'd talked just THEN. She didn't want to talk to me.

I'll think I'm over it for months on end, and then something will remind me of that person I knew, or I'll scroll down to those photos either intentionally or not like an idiot, a moron. And I am. Because I know Serena was bad for me. I know the reason I still think about a girl I fell in love with when I was 13 (maybe even 12) is because of how bad we were for each other. How codependent and unhealthy we were just as friends, just as flirtatious friends.

I have closure in knowing she's gotten on with her life. She's made it. I don't know exactly what she's up to or if she's healthy and it terrifies me. And I know it shouldn't because she doesn't think about me. It's not my job to worry about her anymore, and it never was. It was not that little kid's job. But I worried so much.

Those were the best years of my life, but they were also the worst. Because the people I met were the most important to me. So much so that I was bound to them. I didn't realize it at the time, but they spoke to me, their souls fucking entwined with mine or some bullshit, and I deal with the scars of that separation. I'll never know someone like I knew those children. Not any time soon, maybe not ever.

I don't know if they have the scars, too. Maybe they do. But they don't keep picking scabs like I do. My username hasn't changed. And yet I don't speak to any of them but Angela, who kept herself distant throughout our group's short-lived wildfire, for good reason. She doesn't have the hurt.

And I pretend I don't either when I speak with her, to have some illusion of permanence, some delusion that it keeps me closer to their memory in a safe and sane way. It doesn't work, obviously. But she helps. She went through so much over these years. We're there for each other when we can be. It's how I should have been with Serena. But we couldn't control ourselves, our momentum for Christ's sake.

They aren't the same people now and it breaks my heart it pummels me into fucking dust because even if I had them all again, I'm not the same either and they aren't fucked up and obsessed about two blips of a year like I am and. It. Would. Not. Work. It wouldn't end well. I know that! And yet my mind goes and goes and goes and I hate it I hate it so much. I feel like an idiot.

I have so many pressing issues to contend with, the mundane suffering we of the lower fucking class of familial dumpster fires have to deal with. There's so much and I can't spend my time agonizing over the past, over ghosts who are alive which makes it so much worse. God. Jesus, God; fuck. I feel a little better expressing that. I know I've been thinking about it, ruminating on it endlessly.

Maybe I won't think about her, about them, for several more months now. I need sleep. My hormones are off. I'm finally taking the step and seeing a friend soon. There are factors to this slip. I have a future ahead of me. There will be independence and the ability to actually leave my binds and have a life. Just some more years. I told myself that until I graduated high school and look; that was nearly 2 years ago.

I can do it. I can power through this until I inevitably get a therapist in that nebulous future time, to help me with this and chiefly other things. Because this clearly isn't going away. Fine. Haunt my narrative. Even if I don't haunt yours. Maybe you think of me every once in a while. Maybe a casual look back every year or two. I think you do. You have to. It's okay it didn't hit as hard for you, but I know you felt something.

It's okay. I know you remember me. You don't think of me, maybe, but you remember bittersweetly. You do. That's fine. I won't ever get to know the details. And I thought that was fine. But it will be one day, I guess. I feel things too much, maybe. I can learn to manage it better than I am. I've made progress since previous times. I can do it.

I need to say goodbye to the ghost of you. I'm going to try. Whatever happens, happens, but right now, I'm trying. I don't care how stupid I look. I'm the only one reading this.

Goodbye, Serena. I have to let this go. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. This hurts and it's always hurt but you said it long before me, I'm sure. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Maybe, you know. Maybe. Good night.

EDIT: I guess I'm a bit better now. I've come to edit her name in, because I can say it again. Maybe I'm getting better now.