#shitty mom and if her mom had the ability to change she could have changed all along she just didnt.

[batcavescolony]

What ever you do don't think about Percy reading Estelle a little kid version of 'The Odyssey' because that's what Sally read to him but he doesn't want to scare her. Don't imagine Sally looking on with guilt in her eyes cus she HAD to read him the real one so he knew what to expect. Don't think about Sally looking down on her little girl with tears in her eyes cus she doesn't need to worry about snakes in her bed or teachers being Cyclopes. Don't think of Sally seeing Estelle with Paul and having to leave the room cus when Percy was that age they had Gabe. Don't think of the unimaginable guilt that Sally must feel for being relieved that Estelle's biggest battle at 16, is her Dad being her teacher. And whatever you do don't think about Percy feeling like an outsider in his own family even though he gets constantly reassured that he's part of it and loved.

[orphicdreamers-wp]

No Caller ID — Travis Kelce

Summary: In which you find your phone ringing at 3 in the morning

Content Warning; drunken phone calls, mentions of Christmas 2023 Chiefs Vs Raiders game, mentions of the Jan 21st Bills Vs Chiefs game, mentions of Travis and Taylor, moving on fast, breakup, Travis being a shitty boyfriend, angst, emotional cheating if you squint, physical cheating(Travis and reader kiss while in diff relationships) , reader moves on with Dylan O’Brien

Pairing: Travis Kelce & Model! Reader

December 26th 2023.

A small yawn emitted from your lips as you sat up in your bed. You reached your freshly manicured red nails on your beside table for your ringing cell phone. You finally grasped the phone as a new call began to filter through. It was an blocked number which caused you to frown slightly as you pressed the phone to your ear, “Hello?” Travis’ familiar voice filled your ears, “Hi pretty.” You frowned at the football players drunken slur, “Why are you calling me Trav?” Travis hummed softly as he glanced down at the blonde woman sleeping in bed next to him, “I miss you angel.” You sat up as a frown tugged at your lips, “You have a girlfriend Trav. A beautiful girlfriend who adores you.”

Travis slowly moved from the bed to avoid startling Taylor awake as he moved from Taylor’s bedroom to her living room, “She’s not you angel, she’s great but she’ll never be you.” You shook your head as you pulled your sweater closer to your body, “Dude, every news outlet is reporting you two are looking at houses together, talking about kids and marriage. I cannot be the girl who takes any Taylor Swift’s happy ending. I won’t be that person.” Travis sighed as he leaned into the couch further, “I had a really shitty game tonight. I wish you could have been there for me.”

You awkwardly smiled at his change of topic, “I watched the game. You played fine Trav. You aren’t the backbone of the team. No matter how well you play on your own, you can’t impact the entire team’s ability. It’s not on you.” Travis hummed, “Are you excited for Fashion Week?” You hummed as you took a sip of your water, “I have a Vogue event the first week of the new year. I’m also hosting the Golden Globes so I’m pretty excited about where my career is now.” Travis hummed as he stroked Meredith’s fur, “So no one special?” You frowned slightly at the hint of amusement in his tone, “I’ve gone on a few dates. I’ve been seeing a guy for about a month.”

Travis hummed, “I saw. What was his name, Dylan something? I saw some paparazzi photos.” You hummed, “O’Brien. I’m surprised your girlfriend hasn’t said anything she and Dylan are pretty close.” Travis let out a harsh sigh, “Whatever, there’s no way he’ll be good enough for you.” You scoffed under your breath, “Well, this was a refreshing conversation. Goodnight Travis.” Travis stammered as you were about to hang up, “I’m sorry I called. I shouldn’t have.” You hummed slightly as you heard Taylor’s muffled voice on the other side of the call, “You’re right Travis you shouldn’t have called.”

Taylor yawned softly as she emerged from the bedroom to find her boyfriend engrossed in a phone call, “Trav what’s going on?” The football player smiled kindly at her, “Don’t worry. It was my dad, I forgot how late it was. Go back to sleep.” Taylor smiled down at Travis, “Come back to bed with me.” Travis pressed a kiss to her lips, “I’ll be in soon.” Taylor retreated to her room as Travis opened his instagram to your page.

Instagram!!

yourusername; a good ending to this year💕

dylanobrien; the prettiest model ever

— yourbrother: dyl has top tier rizz 😆

user3929; dylan and y/n is almost as iconic as travis and taylor

— user493: i love this bc travis and y/n broke up like 2 months before trav and tay were spotted out together and dyl was in the atwtmv mv

taylorswift; iconic couple!!

kendalljenner: mom and dad?? is that you?

— yourusername: i miss you kenny💕

haileybieber: noo!! my wife has a boyfriend?

— yourusername: my girlfriend has a husband??

zendaya: my girl🥹🥹

— yourusername: my z💕💕💕

sydneysweeney; your so beautiful y/n

— yourusername: i love you syd!! so grateful to know you💕💕

January 22nd 2024

A small groan elicited from Dylan’s lips as he rested his arms across your waist while the two of you tried to sleep. Dylan had grown up in New York and you had grown up in Buffalo so he practically begged you to go to the Chiefs vs Bills game the night before. You reluctantly agreed, as it would be the first Chiefs game you went to since you and Travis broke up. You’d been with Travis since his rookie year in the NFL so it was hard for you to go from being at almost every game to none.

Something had gotten leaked to a media outlet about you and Dylan attending the game. So Brittany, who’d become one of your best friends during your relationship with Travis, invited you guys to sit in the box with her and some other friends and family of the Chiefs players. Which was how you ended up in the suite with your boyfriend, your ex boyfriend’s girlfriend, his parents, brother and sister in law. You found yourself easily conversing with Taylor which you hated because you felt guilty about the call you had gotten from Travis a month earlier.

Your phone blared through the serene air in your hotel room. You reached for the culprit of the blaring noise and pressed it to your ear without checking who was calling, “Yeah?” Travis’ voice sounded a lot more clear compared to the last 3 am call, “Hey, can we talk?” You frowned as you pressed a kiss to Dylan’s arm and excused yourself, “Sure what’s up?” Travis awkwardly rubbed a hand across his face, “I meant more so in person? I’m staying at the Marriott Hotel in Buffalo I can meet you for a late dinner there?”

You frowned slightly as you looked at your boyfriend who was half asleep in the bed, “I’ll give you an hour. I’m staying at the Marriott too. I have to get dressed but I’ll be down in a few.” Travis looked at the blonde woman sleeping in the hotel bed, the woman he’d grown to truthfully believe could be the one. He just needed to make sure the chapter with you was closed for good. He nodded, “I appreciate it.” You pulled on a pair of jeans and one of Dylan’s hoodies. Dylan stirred in the bed, “Where are you going?” You smiled softly, “I’m gonna go talk to a friend for a bit. I’ll be back soon Dyl.” Dylan hummed as he kissed you, “Okay. Love you.” You smiled to yourself as you left the hotel room.

You slid into the booth seat across from Travis, “Hey T.” Travis looked up from his phone at your voice, “Hey, I ordered you a Dr Pepper, mozzarella sticks and the grilled chicken strips I hope that’s okay.” You nodded, “That’s fine. I’ll pay you back.” Travis waved you off, “Don’t worry about it. How’d you like the game?” You laughed softly, “You played pretty well. Jason was off the walls. I swear I thought your mom was going to pull out a leash for him.” Travis laughed as heat rose up your cheeks, “He’s something else sometimes. Did the boyfriend have a good time?”

You smiled fondly at the mention of your boyfriend, “Dylan’s not super into football but he seemed into it today.” Travis smiled as the waiter brought over the food and set it in front of you guys, “He seemed to be getting on with Kylie and Britt.” You nodded as you took a sip of the soda, “Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t been to many games this season. Kinda doesn’t feel like my place anymore.” Travis smiled widely, his natural charm taking over for a split second, “I always want beautiful models cheering for me.”

You buried your head in your palms, “You’re awful Kelce.” You and Travis fell into casual conversation about your work and his hopes for the Super Bowl this year. Eventually you found yourselves walking to the elevator to go back upstairs to your rooms. As soon as the elevator door shut Travis’ lips were on yours. Before it could register to you, you were reciprocating the kiss. You pulled away almost immediately and stared at Travis in silence as the elevator continued it’s crawl to your floor. Travis opened his mouth, “You can’t tell me that meant nothing.” You cut him off as the elevator dinged and opened, “Don’t.” You walked away before he could get another word in.

You opened the door to your shared hotel room with Dylan and tears filled your lash line. You pulled off the jeans and slipped into your pajama pants and laid on the couch in the room. You couldn’t find it in your heart to wake Dylan up to tell him, so you laid on the couch and waited for him to wake up. He eventually stirred awake and sat up, his vision noticing you on the couch watching him, “What is it beautiful?” You shook your head, “I’m so sorry. It was a mistake, I love you.”

Dylan furrowed an eyebrow as he raced to your side to console you, “What is it Y/N?” You burst into a sob, “I don’t know why I agreed to meet with him. We can never be friends. I’m a horrible person and an even worse girlfriend.” Dylan placed either of his hands on your cheeks, “You shouldn’t have met who baby?” You sniffled, “Travis, that’s who called me. He wanted to talk and I figured it would be as friends but when we were in the elevator we kissed. I’m awful how could I let myself do that to you? Your perfect for and I just screw it up like I always do. I don’t think we should be together anymore. I’m no good for you.”

Dylan wiped your tears, “Did it mean anything to you? The kiss?” You shook your head as you turned away from Dylan, unable to look at him anymore, “No but that doesn’t matter I still did it.” Dylan shook his head as he pulled you into his arms, “I love you and I know that whenever I kiss you here.” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck which earned an unexpected laugh from you. Dylan smiled, “You giggle. I know that whenever I kiss you I feel like I can’t breathe. I know this and every kiss we have ever shared means something. I don’t care about a stupid mistake you made.” You sniffled as you melted into his arms, “I’m so so sorry Dylan. I shouldn’t have met him tonight.” Dylan shrugged as he pulled you off the couch and carried you to the bed, “Maybe so. We can fight about that tomorrow. Let’s sleep.”

February 14th 2024

Travis hadn’t heard from you since the awkward kiss in the elevator. He had told Taylor about the kiss and they’d fought over it and eventually made up. So when Travis was sat beside Taylor on Valentine’s Day as she scrolled through her instagram page. A certain post made Travis open his phone himself and find your instagram account. Your most recent post earned a heart warming smile from him.

Instagram!

yourusername; mrs dylan o’brien sounds ok i guess🤷‍♀️

user392: elopement?!?!

dylanobrien; official vogue first man

— yourusername: someone get my husband off of tiktok😒

taylorswift; i love love💚

— yourusername: we love you tay💚💚

killatrav: y/n o’brien has a ring to it!

— yourusername: thank you mr kelce🙂

— killatrav: of course mrs o’brien🙃🙃

user8713: tayvis & dylan and y/n is my roman empire, like imagine if travis and y/n never broke up. would this be dylan and tay?

[readychilledwine]

For Richer or Poor

Summary - Rhiannon and Rhys struggle with finding each other the perfect solstice gift

Warnings - smut, angst, virginity loss

A/n- this started as angst and fluff and kind of took on a mind of its own.. I apologize for the delay on getting it posted. Miss Sophia has had a mind of her own the past couple days so I've been a little busy forgetting to queue things ❤️ baby daddy's scheduling is now back in place, though.

Peep Requiem for a Dream here

“I don't understand why you are putting so much pressure on one gift,” Azriel stroked Rhiannon's back as she cried. “Rhys loves you, not any materialistic thing you could buy him.” Rhiannon broke down again, back shaking with each heavy sob.

That was the issue. She could not buy him anything. When her father had thrown her to Azriel's feet and abandoned her with her older Brother, he had left her with nothing but the clothing on her bloodied back.

She had no money.

No title.

Nothing she could gift Rhysand for their first Solstice together.

She couldn't even bake him anything nor cook him a dinner. Not unless the two young fae wanted to undergo a Mating Ceremony.

She had little to offer him while he gave her the world. Constsntly showering Her in gifts from Velaris and any court his father would force him to visit.

From teas and treats to lavish clothing, Rhiannon had it all, but she never had the ability to pay it back.

Rhys and his mother walked the Palace of Thread and Jewels. He was carrying the many bags she had accumulated as she shopped for him, Cassian, Azriel, his sister, and now Rhiannon.

Rhys was struggling with gifts for the latter. He had spoiled Rhiannon so much over the past year, and he was lost in what to get the female he'd hand the world.

“What about just something simple? A necklace? A bracelette?” His mother wrapped a Hand around his bicep. “She enjoys blankets. Perhaps a soft new blanket.”

Rhys stared straight ahead. “Nothing says I love you and want to spend the rest of my days with you like a shitty last minute blanket, mother.” He sighed, knowing what he wanted to do, but knowing his father would have his head.

He allowed his mom to pull him into the finest jeweler in the market. “Just do it, Rhysand. We will hide it until we can't anymore.”

Rhys held Rhiannon tight that night. Refusing to let Her go near the small tree his mother was placing presents under. They had been friends for 4 years now, knew they were mates for one year, and had spent that year courting. They had done nothing more but laid in his bed together, kissing and her hands slightly exploring at times while his roamed every inch of her frame like he was making a map.

He had never pushed her into sex, never asked for more than just her love and kisses, but he knew that small box under the tree would change everything. She had wanted to wait for marriage, a tradition drilled into her head through years of beatings from her step mother and Father.

And now, in just 12 short hours, after his Mother, Azriel, and Cassian left for the party being thrown in the Mead Hall, Rhysand would be asking her for her hand.

He placed a few soft kisses along her neck, smiling as she snuggled in closer to him with a small twitch of her lips. Just a few more hours, he told himself.

Solstice morning was filled with laughter and joy. The males having partook in yet another snowball fight as Rhiannon spent the morning in the kitchen helping with what little she could without triggering a mating frenzy.

She, Azriel, and Cassian had exchanged their homemade gifts without the presence of the High Lord's family, the three of them tucked into the boy's room as they exchanged homemade treats. They all couldn't afford much, so these small things had become their tradition. Something they could gather ingredients and supplies for a fairly cheap and make with love and effort.

They did the same for Rhysand's family, showing their gratitude for his mother's choice to pull the three of them into their home. Azriel and Cassian traded gifts with Rhysand while Rhiannon had to wait.

Anxiousness Had set into the pit of her stomach as she got dressed this morning. Rhysand's mother had taken gentle care, braiding her long dark hair, making sure her nails were trimmed and clean, that her hands were oiled and moisturized.

She had ensured Rhiannon had been gifted a fine set of oils and lotions along with a pretty lacy outfit she had hand made for “when the time felt right.”

The evening came quickly, prompting Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand's mother to leave the cabin, heading to the Mead Hall for celebrations and leaving the two mates completely alone.

Rhys had her between his legs, Tucked into his chest tight and placing small kisses along her temple and hairline. “I'm sorry I'm keeping you away from the camp party,” Rhys tilted her head up. “I just wanted time alone with you.”

Rhiannon smiled softly. “If you think I'd rather spend a single moment in that hall with those males, you truly underestimate my love for you.”

“I thought we could talk about that,” Rhysand began softly. “About love and us.” Rhys sat her up, hiding the small black box behind him. “You know I love you, right?”

The falling look on her face had Rhysand back pedaling Watching in horror as she moved away from him and sat down in the opposite couch.

He moved to her instantly, grabbing her soft small hands. “I already fucked that up,” he muttered taking a deep breath. “What I mean is, I do love you, and I hope I have made that clear and obvious.”

He took a deep breath, pausing to kiss her left hand. “I have loved you long before the Bond snapped, and I would love you regardless of it being in place. From the moment Azriel carried you in the doorway begging mother for help, I felt drawn to you.”

Another long pause came as he kissed each knuckle on her hand. “I knew I loved you the moment you took down a male, not knowing he was one of Devlon's bastard Sons and beat the shit out of him for grabbing you. I knew I loved you when I pulled you off of him and went back to fight. I knew I loved you as you sat holding Ice to your lip getting lectured by mother and simply said, “let the camp lord know I'll do it again.” I knew I loved you because of your spark, your fight.”

Rhiannon looked away, hiding her amusement. “So you knew You loved me when it turned out I was violent.”

“You are a violent, murderous, little creature,” Rhysand purred softly, trying to hide the lust in his tone. “And I stupidly love every single ounce of it. I love your eyes when you see something that makes you happy. I love how you pout when I don't give you whatever you want-”

“I do not pout,” Rhys smirked at her, thumb going to her pouty bottom lip.

“Oh yes you do, Darling.” He kissed her gently. “I want to spend my life with you. Learning all the other things I can love. Growing to love the things I already do more.”

Before Rhiannon could respond and process what was happening, Rhys was on one knee before her, an open ring box in hand. “It would be a long engagement, Rhiannon Darling, but will you marry me?”

All she could do was nod, crying as she threw herself Into his arms, holding him tight. “I presume that is a yes?”

Rhiannon nodded before pulling him to her and kissing him deeply. It did not take long for that kiss to become more passionate. Rhys was on top of her in an instant, resting between her legs as they wrapped around his waist, hairs tangling into her long dark hair.

Her own hands found the buttons of his shirt, undoing them quickly and pushing it down his shoulders. Once the material was no longer there, Rhiannon began to run her hands over every exposed piece of skin. Nails and fingertips gently brushing some areas while other areas were squeezed.

The second those legs, those damned legs, wrapped around his waist, Rhys knew her intentions. He pulled apart from her, almost chuckled as she whined softly, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” her voice was breathy as she tried to get him closer, nodding eagerly in confirmation.

Rhys got off the couch, lifting her With him as he did and carried her to her room. “I refuse to let your first time be on a couch instead of a bed,” he laid her down, smiling ferally as he did.

It was teasingly slow, removing her from her clothing, smiling as she laid Naked below him, dark hair spread out around her head like a halo. “So beautiful, darling.” Rhys placed soft kisses along her jawline, whispering to her as his fingers trailed every curve.

Her skin was on fire from every pass, every gentle caress, every touch she'd never experienced before. The second his tongue flicked Her nipple, a whine she'd never heard from herself tumbled from plush parted lips. “So sensitive,” Rhys muttered before licking and sucking her breast while his hand played with the other one. Once he was satisfied, he freed her nipple with a soft pop Before switching sides.

Rhiannons' back arched more cries falling from her lips as her hands tangled in his soft hair. “Please,” she whimpered, thighs clenching together as wetness and heat pooled between them. “Rhysand, please.”

He tutted her softly, mouth returning to hers. “You'll take what I give you, when I give it to you,” another harsher kiss had her whimpering. “Understood, darling?”

“Yes, husband,” the word spurred something primal in Rhysand. Eyes going dark with lust and need.

Since that bond had snapped, all he had wanted was to be hers, for her to be his in return, and now he was taking it. He was stealing this opportunity. Rhys kissed down her body again, growling when he finally hit her core. “So fucking pretty.”

He gave her no warning, diving into her cunt like a man starved. Rhiannon quickly became a mess of moans and cries. The foreign feeling he was bringing her was unmatched to anything she had made herself feel before.

She knew Rhysand was a talented lover, having laid in bed late at night hearing him with the few females he would bring home before they had gotten together, before the Bond snapped, but this was unimaginable.

It was messy. Tongue spreading and taking slick as he lapped at her entrance and clit.

It was hot. Sweat forming on both of their bodies as the room grew warmer and warmer, as panting took the place of stable breaths.

It was raw passion. Each lick, nudge, moan a measurement moment. Each tightening of her core, of her stomach twisting causing more drive as she pushed it down the bond to him.

It took minutes that felt like seconds for her to fall apart on his tongue, that coil snapping as she screamed his name and stars took place of her vision.

Rhys kissed her clit before moving back up her body, hand replacing his tongue and fingers running through her folds. “You taste divine,” his lips found hers, tongue going into her mouth to share his new favorite wine with her. “I could spend days between your beautiful thighs, Rhiannon.”

He was distracting her, praising Her with soft kisses and words. When he finally felt his finger was wet enough, he slowly pushed it in, watching her face as her breath hitched and eyes rolled back.

“Relax, little mate,” he whispered. “I have you.” He moved agonizingly slow, forehead resting On hers as her breathing picked up again. He smiled as her walls relaxed, Welcoming his finger deeper into her warmth. “There we go. Doing such a good job, darling.”

Rhiannon had her eyes locked shut, mouth opened to a soft o as she felt that coil begin to wind itself up again. She could feel Rhysand's eyes on her, his spare hand tracing her cheekbone As a second finger entered her, stretching her out more to prepare her for him.

Rhys seemed to be on a mission. His fingers were curling, scissoring, searching. It was obvious when he found what he was looking for. He watched as his mate took a deep breath, back arched again, and then a Loud moan of his name fell from swollen lips. He felt his stomach stirring with male pride as he Began to aim over and over for that same spot, feeling wave after wave of her arousal and pleasure shooting down the bond.

He had her pulled apart within seconds again. The pride of it all shot straight to his ego.

His beautiful little mate.

Folding for him Over and over again.

Rhys kissed her deeply, deciding she was ready and pulled his fingers out. “Last Chance to tell me to stop, Rhiannon.” Rhys' forehead found hers again, going into her mind to find any doubt. Instead he found love, contentment, need, lust. Her thoughts were clouded and occupied by him. His scent, his intelligence, his voice. His own clothes were long forgotten, slick soaked hand moving to coat himself before lining up with her. “Tell me it hurts and we stop.” She nodded, hands going to his biceps as her hazel eyes met his.

Rhys pushed in slowly, watching her like a hawk. Her nails dug into his arms, almost spurring him on As she whimpered softly underneath him. He stopped as she tensed up, gently stroking her hair, “You have to relax, baby. I don't want to hurt you.” Rhiannon, done with teasing and wanting this part over With, wrapped her legs Around his waist, forcing him in deeper with a gasp. Rhys growled, burying his head into her neck as his self control slowly began to disappear. He pushed in the rest of the way, groaning as her soft walls hugged him.

They sat like that for a few seconds, allowing her to relax further, to adapt to the intrusion. “Rhys, please,” she begged. “Gods please move.” He was lost in the haze of her, pulling out slowly before pushing back in and setting a soft rhythm. Their hands found each other, fingers lacing together as he made love to her, hitting that perfect spot every time he reentered her body. “I love you,” he whispered and smiled as she said it back.

“Faster,” she panted. Rhys felt his smile go feral. His speed picked up, watching as her breasts bounced. His free hand found her hip, squeezing the side of her ass as he took her.

Their joint pleasure was building quickly as they freely sent it to each other down the bond. Rhys could feel himself nearing that edge and brought his fingers to her clit. “Need you to cum, Rhi,” he almost begged her for it. His Fingers began to circle that bud, watching through heavy eyes as she began chanting his name over and over again, walls fluttering and clenching around him. “Need to feel you fall apart on my cock, little wife.”

That word.

That precious word.

The word that made this all okay in her mind was her undoing.

The idea of being his wife. His mate. His everything.

She shattered around him, crying for him and screaming his name as she came. She saw the heavens behind her eyes as she pulled him closer, mind lost in the feeling of him, the smell of him, the need for him.

Rhys tumbled over the edge seconds later, moaning her name loudly as did.

The room that had previously echoed with the sound of her slick, skin making contact, of their moans was now silent. Breathing the only thing indicating life was still there. Rhys pulled Out of her slowly, picking her up the second he was stable on his own feet and carrying her to the bathroom.

He bathed her as she slept in his arms, his own mind still processing that this had finally happened.

She woke up the next morning, ring on her finger to the sound of Cassian egging on a fight. Rolling her eyes, Rhiannon left her bed, Walking to the kitchen and joining Rhysand's mother at the table for coffee. “How long?” She asked.

Amara looked at Rhys and Azriel, watching as the shadowsinger landed another punch. “About 10 minutes. Should be done soon. Let's talk wedding dresses.”

Rhiannon smiled, leaning her head on Amara’s shoulder. “Happy solstice, mom.”

“Happy solstice, Rhi.”

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Cater's Backstory - Monster AU

Monster: Gumiho/Kumiho (Korean folklore, similar to the Japanese Kitsune, shapeshifting abilities) Word Count: ~ 0.74K Relationships mentioned: The Diamond family (2 sisters, (eldest, Katryna, middle, Casey, hc names), mother, (Regina, hc name), father, (Cody)), Indescript People from the internet TW: Minor texting adults/Cater has a fake dating profile at 13, shitty sisters + mom, parents fighting, self esteem issues, family life vlogger, etc.

"OH FOR FUCKS SAKE REGINA, STOP MAKING HIM SHIFT FOR THE SAKE OF THE FUCKING THUMBNAIL OR WHATEVER YOU CALL IT, HE'S NOT A PROP!"

"YOU CUT OFF MY ALLOWANCE CODY, I HAD TO WOMAN UP AND MAKE MONEY SOMEHOW. I GREW THOSE LITTLE SHITS INSIDE OF ME AFTER YOU PUT EM IN ME, THE LEAST THEY CAN DO IS MAKE ME SOME MONEY!.....BESIDES, THIS WAY I DON'T HAVE TO RELY ON SOME DIRTY CHEATER'S CASH LIKE YOURS!" Cater could hear his parents going back and forth in the kitchen for maybe the third or fourth time this week, as it had been....the third or fourth time his mother had tried to shoot a baking video with him in it. His sisters segments had gone off without a hitch, apparently, but his mother kept stop and going when he was involved to make sure the way he looked was "perfect" according to her standards. He tried to block out the yells from the other room, his ears folding back against his head as he brought four of his nine tails to snuggle into, in front of him. While he wasn't a fan of the shooting process, or the way his mom made him shapeshift his face or body to fit her demands, he loved sitting with her once the video went up and watching as views and likes and comments would start pouring in. The feeling was....maybe the only good thing he got to have. Which is why he took it upon himself to find that feeling again whenever he felt upset. He sat up a little, looking for his phone as he used his tail to wipe at his eyes, sniffling a bit. It only took a moment to locate it, and once he had it, he opened it to the camera. He frowned a bit. It was too close to his face...to not be his face, but it wasn't his face. His nose was narrowed, his cheeks had been slimmed in, his eyes were upturned and a little bigger, his lips were slightly more plump than they were meant to be. He shook his head a little, wanting to start from scratch. It was always easier to shift starting from a familiar base. He took a deep breath before focusing on himself in the camera again. First, all he had to do was try to match how Katryna looked - even if their mom never knew, he certainly knew how many times she had snuck out of the house to sleepover at someone else's place. People wanted her. That's what made her a good base, and given that they were siblings, there wasn't all that much he had to change to match her. Once he was satisfied with his facial structure, he turned his hair longer than it was, just to his shoulders. He watched his ginger locks turn black, with a blue streak in it, and turned the colour of his eyes from green to blue to match his hair. He made his cheeks a little thinner and his nose more button-like. It wasn't like this was his first time. It only took him about a minute to come up with a face that wasn't his that he thought might be pretty enough, before taking several photos and choosing his favourites. He opened up the dating app on his phone that he had hidden in a locked file, under a different user profile. He knew his mom would loose it if she caught glimpse of it, thus the measures he took to hide it from her. It wasn't like he was supposed to have it in the first place....but thirteen was close enough to eighteen, right? Besides, the compliments he got- rather, his "character" got, made him feel happy. And this way, he controlled what was going on the internet, and how he interacted with people, and all without his mothers interference. It was perfect. He made a new account, posted the picture and a made up biography before starting to swipe right on every single person that came up. He didn't have to wait long for the compliments to file in, or the "its a match!" to fill his screen. He smiled to himself, before opening the most interesting opener and starting to chat, like he had done so many times before, ready and willing to do whatever it took to get that feeling.

---------------------------------------------------------- A/N: Hiya! If you made it here, you might want to check out my other Twstober works here, or if you're looking for some fluff after that fic, you can check out my main masterlist here. Ask box is open if you have any questions! Thanks for reading!

[h2llish]

we're starting my rambles with riddle, my love <3

there's a lot about riddle to unpack honestly. his mother was super controlling, and he was sheltered his whole life. he wasn't allowed friends, and he obviously didn't have much of an impactful male figure in his life. his parents don't seem to get along and that's me assuming his parents are even together anymore. and he also had to live up to a perfect expectation his mother put on him. like holy shit, that's a lot.

he doesn't know how to hold decent conversation, can't understand some social cues, and if you haven't noticed, he kind of struggles with maintaining friendships.

coming from someone whose been sheltered by a pretty controlling mother (and step-father, kinda), i can say i totally understand. while my mother didn't have a name to herself and she was a sahm (stay at home mom) so she never held many expectations, she still sheltered and controlled my siblings and i. for the longest time, like riddle, i hadn't realized that what my mother was doing wasn't right or normal. she prevented me from making decent relationships, ultimately ruining my social skills entirely and giving me enough insecurities to cover five(+) of me. i was fortunate enough to have my siblings to rely on, but it became unhealthy and none of us know how to handle real relationships/friendships when we're faced with them. even now, at 18, i remain under her control because of how sheltered i was growing up that the very thought of living without that control is terrifying.

now you take what i just told you about my controlling mother and you add that to riddle's life, you'll see just how shitty his childhood must've been. he didn't even know his mother was controlling until he overblots, he remained completely unaware of his trauma until the chaos of it built up into a meltdown. the only friendships he did have were forbidden when his mother learned he was interacting with other children, and with their leave so went his ability to learn proper, healthy, means of coping and social relationships.

and even after he became aware of the trauma of it all, he can't exactly change at the snap of a finger. he has to unlearn all the unhealthy aspects of what his mother taught him and learn more proper ways of dealing with anything.

and his temper? he probably learned that from his mother. you guys seen the way she acted when she learned her only son was making friends. it is very possible for a child to learn and take on qualities from their parents/guardians and he probably learned his anger from her. and to add to that, he never learned to properly cope with his own emotions under his mother's rule, so his anger is far more uncontrolled.

and i haven't even gotten to his insecurities and shit.

now im going to exclude his height here for obvious reasons (we all know how he is).

riddle probably fails to realize he even has insecurities. his trauma as a "golden" (only) child is enough to cloud the part of your brain that recognizes when you are feeling insecure. he still has so much to learn about himself, and that includes the insecurities that come with his childhood.

insecurities are actually pretty difficult to touch with him as it could be a number of things, and this is all guesswork, assumptions, observations; you can't know for sure. but i'm going to say what i think.

he's relearning everything from new, so i imagine that must make him a little insecure. to live under your mother's rule and then have a complete breakdown over it? someone like him would absolutely be embarrassed if they had to unlearn everything their mother taught them just so they could learn more healthy topics and methods.

he has a fear of failure; absolutely no one can say otherwise because it is so obvious. before his overblot, the stress of continuing to live up to the expectations his mother gave him was a weigh down and added to his blot build up. and after his overblot, he can't exactly break from that mentality. regardless of how much he may try or how much help someone may give, that sort of mentality that's been added to and built on for years cannot be easily broken. it's been shaped so much it might as well be comparable to a full concrete fortress of, "must pass this", "not good enough", and "she'll be disappointed".

he fears disappointment from other people. now listen, i know this one might seem far-fetched. he was and still sort of is dedicated to pleasing his mother, and absolutely sucks at forming decent relationships with other people because of poor social skills. but he is the housewarden of heartslabyul. he has definitely placed expectations on himself that he believes should be met and if they aren't he fears he's let down everyone in the dorm. what good of a queen is he if he can't live up to the quotas and expectations, he's set for himself? if he can't meet every rule? if he does not keep his dorm in the position of best?

he has the nagging insecurity and overall fear of never being good enough. whether that be with his mother, his friends, or future partners. he fears he will never meet someone's expectations and fail to be good enough for them. and this leads to my next statement, loneliness. his only friends were forbidden from him, and he's had no one but his mother until nrc. but even then, no one has been that close to him except try and che'nya so i imagine he must get lonely. and after his overblot, i assume that loneliness must have reached a suffocating point now that he knows about how wrong his mother's behavior was.

now to end this ramble and listen to me on this one ━ he's insecure. that's it. he's insecure about himself, his height, his trauma; everything. he's insecure.

overall, there is just so much to him and i just think people need to think about that when they refer to riddle. he's not just his anger and obsessive need for perfection; he's someone still learning his trauma and trying to better himself.

[elderemorune]

I'll See Ya When I See Ya

I've grown up, and I didn't even notice. It was such a gradual shift, from only caring about games, my friends, my girlfriend, and what cool new thing I was going to make next. I was trying a bunch of different forms of art to see what I could do, writing, painting, sculpting, none of it good, but I didn't care. I was a kid.

Before I even realized it, I was 30. Living in a house, trying to have kids, caring about politics despite promising I'd never care about them. I was so focused on growing, on becoming a better person, that I never stopped for a moment to consider what that meant, what parts of me I was leaving behind.

Then, despite my best efforts it was taken away from me. My sister and her husband needed room for their kids, and the state asked us very nicely if we'd consider leaving the house.

So we did, and here we are in Seattle, in a shitty apartment, doing shitty work while I put my wife through school, knowing that she's going to do amazing things when she graduates.

And other than her, only one goddamn person had the decency to thank me.

I guess this is growing up.

It's putting down your toys, not even knowing you'd never have time for them again. It's abandoning the carefree creativity of childhood and embracing a more structured approach to creation. It's your mom putting you down for the last time.

It's realizing your parents are humans too. It's understanding that one day, they'll be gone. It's considering how that will feel, thinking you're prepared, and of course, being wrong about that.

It's lamenting the fact that you're aging, that you're going to die.

It's worrying about taxes, what people think of you, and if you're going to make it to your next paycheck.

I miss being a kid. I mourn for my childhood, what could have been, what was. My heart breaks for the little boy sitting in his room and playing with his toys alone, scared of what will happen when his dad comes in and sees the mess. The little boy who didn't understand why nobody liked him. Whose peers found him annoying and pretentious when all he wanted to do was be friends with them. Who was hated by teachers and admin alike because he was 'too smart' but they couldn't figure out what to do with him, so they punished him.

All he ever wanted was to be loved. To be understood. It took a very long time to find the right people for that. I'm forever thankful to my wife and my best friends, because without them I would't be who I am now.

But it's so much more than that, too!

Growing up is also realizing that you're so much more than just a kid. Understanding that you have power, a voice, the ability to change things for the better. It's learning how to communicate with others, making new friends, reaching new heights!

Here I am, on the cusp of my next birthday, planning to go party for an evening because I've never done that. And that's growing up too. Experiencing new things just because, or making spontaneous plans. Meeting new people. Evolving as a human.

I don't know when I looked at my childhood self and said "See ya when I see ya", but I saw him today, and fuck did it hurt.

I guess this is growing up.

[ezekieltobiasfletcher]

Keep It Simple

The worst of my bout with COVID is over. Tomorrow will be two weeks since I noticed the uncomfortable tingle in my throat. Yesterday marks one week since I suffered the worst of it. I am on the mend, but some symptoms still linger. As much as I want them to go away, I need these remaining mild symptoms to linger a little while longer as a reminder. I need to be reminded of the promises I made to my higher power that I would take better care of myself. To sleep when I am tired, and not to use substinances, screens, and people to distract myself from the work and pains of living my life on life's terms. I need to be reminded of how honest I was with myself as I pleaded through prayer to survive this virus. I need to be reminded that I will not find my salvation in thinking about what I need to do. I will only save myself by focusing on my higher power and walking my talk. If I want things to be different, then I need to continue breaking from my old habits and coping mechanisms and act as-if, being different, everyday, one day at a time.

I had very little appetite while I was in the depths of COVID. For a few days, all I could tolerate was Lipton Noodles packets with some added rice. The first day I felt a little better, I knew I needed to consume calories, protein, and fiber to help my decimated digestion system. I decided to keep it simple, and made myself two eggs, scrambled in the pan, and two slices of wheat toast with butter. I also decided to nourish my soul by playing one of my favorite games with my mind. I call it, "look how lucky I am..."

I was raised by an early Boomer mother, born in the latter half of the 1940's. She was raised by parents who grew up during the depression, and she also spent a great deal of time with her maternal grandparents, who together with my maternal grandparents, all survived The Great Depression. The love and hardships that my mom was raised with gave her the ability to always find silver linings and to make do with what she had. I will write more about her someday, but for today, I just want you to know that I am very grateful for her and her simple, everyday values that bring me comfort when I need it most. My mother's spirit is part of the great amalgamation that is my "higher power".

As I was making my breakfast, I put on a YouTube Music playlist called: Depression Era, Golden Age of Radio. I remembered stories I was told about what it was like living through world wars, the 1918 flu, and the Great Depression. While preparing my meal, these memories of stories from my family made me thankful to have a stove, cookware, a toaster, sliced bread, butter, eggs, salt and pepper, and a warm home with indoor hot water plumbing to live in. By my grandparents and great grandparent's standards, I have everything I need to live a good and simple life. By simply having a job and a home in the United States, I am in the top 5% of the world. Look how lucky I am.

As horrible as COVID has been for me, it helped me get to bed earlier, I haven't had any marijuana in two weeks, I've limited my screen time, I removed all the social media apps from the home screen of my phone, I've logged off from work by 5:30pm each day, I'm being more intentional about my meals, and with not getting the munchies from the pot, I'm not snacking all the time like Scooby and Shaggy. And as shitty as being sick was, literal pun intended, I am back to my pre-COVID lockdown weight. So yeah... I'm letting this recent mental bottoming out affect me, and I'm getting out of my own way and drawing even closer to my higher power. Look how lucky I am to be alive and be able to change for the better.

For what it's worth, that meal of eggs, toast, and a small glass of orange juice, it was the most delicious fucking meal I have had in a long time. I never want to forget the depth of gratitude I felt on that morning; ever.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Baratie: Home to Chefs, Strays, and the Occasional Sword Goblin - Part 6

So, this chapter was previously attached to the prior one, but it was getting long for what I generally want for these, so now it’s two!

First chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Prior chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

It’s Dry Goods Run Day. [3272 words]

It was finally Dry Goods Run Day.

Unlike the frequent deliveries of perishables and tide-overs that the Baratie received from whatever traders were willing to sail to them, it was fairly standard to use the day they needed to restock on the restaurant’s shelf-stable items as a day off for most of the crew. The chefs, kitchen help, and waitstaff alike all relished in their ability to fuck the fuck off to places unknown for the day, making it so that the only ones really working were Sanji, Patty, and Carne as they hand-picked their spices and flours and dried grains and whatnot.

“Zoro-oji! Zoro-oji! What’s that?!”

...oh, yeah, Zoro was technically working too.

“It’s a balloon,” he said flatly, looking in the direction Asido was pointing. They were in the middle of the port’s market, where the boy was staring wide-eyed at anything and everything they came across. “Haven’t you ever seen a balloon, kid?”

“Not really…” the boy muttered. His green-haired adult exhaled heavily and picked the boy up, allowing him to bury his face in his shoulder. The kid ran his moods more lopsidedly than his shitty uncle, which honestly said more than the swordsman wanted to admit.

“Would you like one?” he asked.

“…no…”

“Well, if you change your mind, you know all you need to do is ask, okay?”

Asido nodded into his shoulder and Zoro tried not to sigh. Here he was: one of the greatest swordsmen alive, to have ever lived. He was one of the Pirate King’s Wings, for fuck’s sake, only to be reduced to the shit-cook’s babysitter for the past week. Was it two? Three? He really didn’t know anymore. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that his uncle was literally one of the most annoying fucks to exist on the seas, but that was neither there nor here. Then again, it wasn’t even as though it was entirely the shit-cook’s fault he was in this position—there was plenty of blame to be spread amongst a disturbing amount of other people, and none of them were in the port nor on the ship.

“Is there anything you’d like?” he asked.

“Mom…” the boy croaked.

“Well, it’s just me, so we’re going to have to make do.”

“Okay…” Asido mumbled into Zoro’s neck, clinging to him desperately. “Do you know when Mom’s coming back? I really miss her.”

“I’m sure she misses you too,” he replied. Zoro saw other groups of people as he wandered around, including families with kids. A little girl—about the sprout’s age, he guessed—bounced up and down as she waited for her dads to finish acquiring snacks from a stall, and it sent a pang through him. Words long-said rattled around in his head, making him hug the boy in his arms just a bit tighter.

You want to know why I never went to Totto Land? Because instead of just defeating them, I would have murdered everyone for taking you away from me.

They had been words whispered in the cook’s ear, hot and heavy as he had made a pass in their last remaining moments in Wano. He had been pushed away then, a rejection that was loud and clear, starting the agonizing path that led to their falling out. Now, by some cruel twist of fate, he was holding a child that looked like Sanji, as though they had rescued him from Totto Land after Luffy became Pirate King instead of before their siege of Wano. It was a kid that very easily could have come out of the Charlotte honey trap, or possibly even that dancer woman from Dressrosa… or…

What would he have done, if the blond showed up on the doorstep, a child in his arms and an apology on his lips?

Fuck… he really didn’t want to think of that now.

Finding a vendor that sold dorayaki, Zoro bought his charge a snack, taking the portable nature of the treat to his advantage as he continued to wander around the port market. While he was not able to find the way out of the market, he eventually ran into Sanji, who seemed more amiable than usual.

“Alright Marimo, you’re relieved,” he said. He reached for Asido and the boy willingly allowed himself to be passed, clinging to his uncle’s brightly-patterned shirt tightly. Sanji bounced the boy slightly and pressed a kiss to his hair before turning back to his crewmate. “Follow the street down to the docks and you’ll find the supply boat.”

“Sure,” the mossman grunted. He ruffled the kid’s hair before sulking off, leaving the pair alone.

“I don’t know if I like islands,” Asido frowned. Sanji chuckled at that as he began to stroll idly through the market—of all the things to be genetic.

“I don’t like them too much either,” he admitted. “We grew up on boats and ships, with water always under us. Islands aren’t like that, and I think we can tell a lot easier than other people.”

“Yeah.” The boy settled into his uncle’s shoulder, the top of his head wedging in the crook of the man’s neck, before sniffling, “I want Mom.”

“I want to give her to you, but you know I don’t know when she’ll be back,” he said. A storefront then caught his eye and he patted the boy’s arm. “Hey, there’s a clothing store over there. Let’s go ahead and get you some new stuff like I said we would.”

“’Cause I’m gonna grow soon, right?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I hope I don’t grow too much, or Mom might not recognize me.”

Deciding to not touch that, Sanji took his nephew into the clothing store, glad when the prospect of curiously new things distracted Asido from his doldrums. They were able to find several new sets of clothes for the boy, as well as a couple jackets and pairs of shoes, some pajamas, slippers, and a bathrobe that was comically big on him.

“Can I get a robe like Zoro-oji?” Asido asked as he flapped the sleeves of his new bathrobe. Sanji peeled the garment off the lad and handed it to the clerk.

“That’s a special kind of robe—you’d have to ask him,” he replied. Asido then shrugged and bounced off to look at a display of girls’ clothes while the two adults sorted everything.

“He certainly is full of curiosity,” the clerk chuckled. Sanji rolled his eyes.

“He’s not used to dry land, so I’m just glad he’s distracted,” he admitted. “Oh, no, wait, not this one; I’m going to pretend you forgot to ring it when we’re two days out.”

“I’ll gladly play the villain if that’s the case,” the clerk said. They stashed the t-shirt with a Sora, Warrior of the Sea logo across the front out of sight and continued folding the rest. “Your son a fan of the comic?”

“Something like that.” Sanji checked on Asido from where he was standing and frowned. “Azuki bean, is this you telling me you want one?”

“No…” the boy replied from the dresses.

“Then why are you still over there?”

“I was thinking about if Merry might like these.” He picked one off the rack and held it high. “This one would look nice on Lea, but weird on Montie! Why is that?”

“We’re here to shop for you, not your cousins.”

“Uncle Saaaaaanjiiiiii…!”

“Look, don’t touch,” the blond warned. The clerk stifled a snicker as Asido and Sanji sported matching scowls.

“My apologies,” they smirked. “That’s a strong family resemblance.”

“Eh; my sister and I could have been twins,” Sanji shrugged. “Didn’t correct you, did I?”

“True.” The clerk nodded deftly before tallying up the total. Money was exchanged and they started to bag it up. “Pardon me for prying,” Sanji raised his visible eyebrow, “but you might want to consider taking a catalog with you. If you’re at sea often, then it might be too long between ports before his next growth spurt, and the next one you’re at might not have a shop like ours.”

“I… don’t know how long I’ll have him…”

“We deliver most items by News Coo, and the packaging is plain, in case any of it ends up being a present or some other surprise,” the clerk continued, unfazed. “Kids are hard, especially ones you didn’t plan on.”

“How…?”

“You just came in and bought enough to fill a child-sized closet; you might be a natural with him, but it’s clear you just got him in a weird way.” They finished packing the two bags and placed the receipt in one and a goods catalog in the other. “He looks happy interacting with you, if it helps. His parents put him in good hands.”

“You must see a lot of people if you’re able to glean all that.”

“I work at one of the few dedicated children’s clothing stores in the area—a lot barely covers it.” They offered a polite smile as Sanji took the bags. “My apologies, again.”

“Eh, whatever,” Sanji muttered. He then looked at Asido again, who was still staring at the dresses. “Azuki bean! We’re leaving! What do you say?”

“Thank you for taking care of us!” the boy beamed as he joined his uncle. He waved at the clerk as they walked out, then proceeded to hold Sanji’s hand as they wandered the market. “Where do you think we can find clothes like Zoro-oji?”

“Why do you want to dress like Zoro-oji?”

“Well, he’s gonna teach me swords, right? So I got to have swords clothes!”

Sanji almost stopped walking entirely in order to process his nephew’s logic. “You know, people who fight with swords can wear anything they want. There’s no uniform you have to wear.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah; now let’s get back to the boat and make sure everything’s been delivered.”

“Okay!”

It didn’t take long to get to the supply boat at the wharf, where there was the unusually relief-laden sight of the marimo stomping onto the craft while Patty and Carne took inventory of everything that had been dropped off by varying vendors from around the port.

“This is a lot of shit, kid,” Carne mentioned as he tapped a pallet of flour with the end of his pen. “Sure you aren’t going by how much you need to feed that captain of yours?”

“I’m sure, you limp-dicked half-rate,” Sanji huffed, no venom to his voice. He helped Asido into the boat before bringing the bags on, putting them down next to some other bags and boxes he didn’t recognize. “What the fuck’s this?”

“Errands for our actual boss,” Patty sniped. “Just because he’s out of commission doesn’t mean he can’t have needs, nor that we should ignore them.”

“The idea that he’s having you take care of things instead of me only tells me that the geezer’s up to something,” Sanji frowned. He decided to wait until they were back at the Baratie to address whatever the fuck was going on, instead taking the opportunity to double-check his wares. Once everything was triple-checked and on the boat, they set off, heading back to the restaurant. They made it well before dinnertime, with Zoro helping Asido bring aboard the stuff for him and Zeff while the chefs all unloaded the restaurant’s supplies.

Bringing the dried goods aboard and sorting them all in their proper places was always a hassle, but once it was done, Sanji felt a great sense of accomplishment. He breathed a sigh of relief and decided to make something a little more involved for his family for dinner… and the Moss too… he guessed. An experimental curry, utilizing some spices he found on the island that caught his eye, though not too spicy so he could further gauge his nephew’s palate. He carefully made plenty of the stew and rice and left it in serving dishes, bringing everything up as such so that he could allow everyone to take what they wanted, while any leftover could be used as a staff snack the following day.

Opening the door to Zeff’s room with a gentle push of his hip, Sanji brought the meal into the room only to nearly drop it. There, he saw Asido sitting in one of the geezer’s armchairs, wrapped up in a blanket he could not remember while reading what looked like the fabled first collected volume of Sora, Warrior of the Sea. Zeff and Zoro were sitting at the table, both pains-in-his-ass stopping their conversation and looking at him nearly sheepishly as he stopped and stared.

“Oh! Uncle Sanji! Look what Grandpa Zeff got me!” Asido slid out of the chair and held up the book proudly. “It’s Sora! And a blanket! And some other stuffs!”

“Did he now…?” Sanji said, throwing a glare at his foster father. The old man refused to make eye contact, pretending that there was instead something vaguely interesting with his still-extant foot. “You can show me everything after dinner, alright?”

“Okay! Zoro-oji helped me unpack everything we bought today, so I can show you then!”

“He helped you unpack, eh?” Sanji asked, turning his attention to Zoro. The mosshead simply took his plate and began shoveling rice onto it, well-used to ignoring the death-stare the blond often threw him. “This is beginning to sound more and more like a couple someones might have broken rules while I was busy with dinner.”

“No big deal, twirls,” Zoro mumbled. “The kid’s allowed to be comfortable.”

“If you need me to say it, eggplant, the kid’s in what’s technically my house, and I say it’s fine,” Zeff mentioned. He saw as Asido was trying to fold his blanket on his own and chuckled. “We’ll take care of it later, azuki. Get over here and eat before your uncle has a coronary.”

“Okay!” the boy replied cheerily. He sat down at the table and stared at what Sanji was putting on his plate. “What’s that…?”

“Curry,” the blond replied.

“I thought curry is red and kinda soupy.”

“That’s how they like curries in the North—we’re not in the North Blue now,” Sanji explained. “This kind of curry style originated in a place called Wano, on the Grand Line. Zoro-oji and I went there a long time ago.”

“Okay, cool!” Asido took a giant chunk of potato and shoveled it in his mouth, only to spit it back onto the plate in tears. “Ow! Too hot!”

Sanji closed his eyes and tried not to grimace. Just… why…?

“At least you know he’s not picky,” Zeff chuckled. Sanji rolled his eyes and kept serving dinner—sure, he guessed.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After dinner, Sanji went to go inspect his nephew’s room, finding that plenty had happened while he was occupied with cooking. The boy’s clothes were put away neatly, utilizing a level of organization that he did not think Asido or Mosshead were capable of coordinating. Books previously absent sat neatly in the bookshelf and some boxes sat in the corner, one suspiciously looking like flat-pack furniture.

“Old man said the kid needed a desk,” Zoro explained casually as he followed the blond in. “I’ll put it together tomorrow.”

“Can you even read the directions?” Sanji sniped.

“I’m not illiterate.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Do you like my new books, Uncle Sanji?” Asido asked, reminding the men that the kid was still there. He looked at the now-full shelf, seeing that it was full of those damned Sora, Warrior of the Sea compilations. There were a few regular storybooks, but Sora was the bulk of the lot. “Mister Patty and Mister Carne helped Grandpa Zeff get the comics, and Zoro-oji got me the other ones!”

Sanji blinked. “He did…?”

“Yeah! And he got me these!” Asido dove into the corner of the closet and pulled out a pair of shinai, at which Sanji tried his best not to scowl. “He said that I need to be ready for when we start swords!”

“…which might be a while, remember?” Zoro replied, trying to cover up what was clearly supposed to be a secret. “Some people are never old enough to hold a weapon, let alone a sword.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I won’t!” the boy reasoned. “I can do flippy stuff and sword stuff!”

“Uh-huh, yeah, I’ll flip you right off the deck,” Sanji scoffed jokingly. He gave Asido a wink and the boy giggled. “Now go clean up your stuff in the geezer’s room, okay? You’re getting a bath tonight.”

“Zoro-oji doesn’t get baths!”

“Zoro-oji is also a barbarian, and we are not; now get going.” The two men watched the child dash from the room, giving them an opportunity alone. “You didn’t have to do any of this, mosshead.”

“I know.” He watched as Sanji took one of the books off the shelf and flipped through it. “That was, uh, the only one I actually remembered. The woman at the bookstore helped with the rest.”

“Of all things, ‘Noland the Liar’ is what you remembered?”

“Blame Usopp…?”

Sanji threw Zoro an unimpressed look. “You’re a goddamned moron, you know that?”

“I’m not the one who’s so wrapped up in his own trauma that he forgot that kids need stuff to do other than practice kicks and flips,” Zoro sniped.

“So getting him excited to become a potential new sword-moron is the answer?” Sanji hissed.

“I meant the books and you know it.”

“…and how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Kids like books…?”

“How would you know?!”

“I just do, alright?!”

“So you were into books? When you were a kid?”

“…no…”

“Then I’m not sure I want to know…” Sanji stopped when he saw Asido come back into the room with his new book and blanket, both of which he put on the bed. “That’s not where they go.”

“I wanna read more before bed!” the boy claimed. “I need my Reading Blanket to do that!”

“Okay, sure; say goodnight to Zoro-oji,” Sanji said quickly. Asido did and went over to the closet to pull out his new pajamas, giving his uncle just enough time to grit out a fake smile. “Good night, Marimo.”

“Night, Twirly-Brow.” Zoro shrugged in irritation before leaving, not really wanting to push the envelope with the kid right there. No sooner did he close the door behind him did Asido pop back at Sanji’s side, holding his pajamas high above his head.

“These?” the boy asked.

“If those are what you want, now come on.” Sanji attempted to lead his nephew into the bathroom, who was adamantly protesting, all the way down to kicking his feet once picked up. “You didn’t mind bathing before.”

“I don’t gotta take baths if Zoro-oji doesn’t!” the kid pouted. “It’s not fair!”

“Normal people bathe or shower regularly; if Zoro-oji wants to be gross and not bathe, then that’s on him. He’s an adult. You, however,” he sat Asido down on the toilet lid, “are still a kid. That means you’re still learning. Can’t break the rules unless you know them.”

“That’s dumb,” Asido scowled. “Baths are dumb.”

“Merry gets baths almost every day.”

“Zoro-oji says girls have to, though!”

Sanji shuddered at the very thought of Zoro having had a conversation with Asido about how much bathing is too much bathing. Fuck… gross…

“I shower every night, so don’t give me that nonsense,” he warned. “Now come on… you like lavender?” Asido nodded and Sanji began to draw the water, pouring in the bubble bath as the kid presumably got ready…

…only for him to turn around and find that he fled from the room.

Fucking hell.

[thisismenow3]

I feel like this site is good despite itself/management

As someone who lurked on tumblr for over a decade before being forced to create an account so I could follow more than the most recent posts of the people I follow on here, I joined this site in truth at a weird time. And something I’ve realized with the way stories of management almost tanking the site but being prevented from doing so on to the current situation is that tumblr and it’s staff and management are kind of like my mom. She’s remarkably progressive for a white woman in her 70s, genuinely, but at she can still be shitty. She supports all the rights to autonomy and protection for lgbtqia and women and non white people but refuses to change how she talks about things cause “people should just know I don’t mean anything bad by all the other stuff I say and do.” Like calling anyone with East Asian heritage ‘oriental’ or talking about how “it makes me so mad cause all lives matter,” despite me pointing out that by saying the last one she’s misunderstanding the point of Black Lives Matter ain’t to treat everyone well, it’s to have some decency and treat black lives like they matter as much as white lives to the system. There’s plenty more, like my mom deciding years ago to start taking her frustration at her life in her early 60s and the state of mine out on my disabled partner, has lighting her and refusing to ever acknowledge her repeated wrongdoings despite long periods of estrangement and reconnecting due to good behavior and my partner having a horrible family she had to cut ties with. But we’ve finally gotten to a good place where she treats my partner at least as good as the average mother in law (and sometimes better!)… but that’s more because her dementia is obvious now. But she remains a way better parent and person than any of my uncles and their wives, easily.

so in a weird way I’m seeing my ability to actually love my mom and my cousins who always left me hanging but now need some catharsis in the OG tumblr users talking about redditors and the tumblr staff/management. The company behind this site has many problems over the years, and it’s a cop out to say they are at all good now, but damn it if they ain’t somehow failing their way into running the site better than the people behind twitter and Reddit

[dvstybuns]

WHO: Dustin Henderson

WHAT: He’s Valedictorian, baby!

WHERE: Hawkins High Football Field

Dustin Henderson was sweating, and the ceremony hadn’t even started yet. 

It wasn’t the public speaking that was making him nervous. He’d gotten over his shyness after meeting the boys in elementary school, unable to shut up by the time they’d reached sixth grade. Standing up in front of the audience wasn’t something he was scared of, necessarily, it was just... this was a pretty personal speech. He was kind of baring his soul for people, in a way. Standing before them and listing all of the people who had made him who he was, thanking each of his friends for the things they had taught him. And while that was sweet, it was also a bit nerve-wracking. 

Dustin had been practicing it all week for anyone who would listen, and even for people who didn’t want to hear it. Suzie had been on the phone with him multiple times to go over her own speech as well, and the more he heard it, the more he was worried his own was too sentimental. Too raw and open. But it was too late to change it now. It was well past memorized, and to the point where he almost thought he could do it in his sleep if he wanted. Maybe he was doing it as he dreamed, honestly; Dustin had a habit of talking in his sleep when he was anxious. 

Claudia had insisted on them getting there early so she could get a good seat close to the front. She’s borrowed someone’s video camera, and planned on filming his speech so they’d always have a copy. That made Dustin nervous too, but he knew his mom meant well. She was so proud of him - he’d heard her gushing to her book club the week before about how smart and talented her baby boy was, and how he was going to do great things once he graduated. 

Great things that didn’t include MIT, but great just the same, Dustin hoped. 

He took his seat next to Principal Higgins, offering the man a tight smile. Dustin didn’t care for him - he’d been shitty towards Eddie and Max, and Dustin couldn’t excuse that - but he wasn’t going to be a complete dick to him before Dustin had even gotten his diploma. 

The first twenty minutes or so of the ceremony went by quickly, with the marching band playing a few songs and the Principal speaking. After he’d been introduced, Dustin stood up, taking a few deep breathes to calm himself. Walking to the podium, Dustin pulled his speech out of his pocket and looked out into the sea of faces before him. 

He could see Will close to the front, Byers being one of the first last names alphabetically. Mike was there, but he couldn’t find Lucas or Max. There were a lot of people all dressed in green, to be fair. Further out, he could see the audience behind the graduates, with his mom front and center. Seeing her and his friends calmed his nerves and gave him the ability to get started.

“Good afternoon fellow graduates, faculty and staff, parents, and distinguished guests and welcome to the graduation ceremony for the Hawkins High School class of 1988,” He began, reading directly from the paper. “My name is Dustin Henderson, and I am honored, but not surprised, to be your valedictorian.” That earned a few chuckles and eye rolls, mostly from his classmates. Dustin, unfortunately, had never become Mr. Popular. What a bummer. 

“I moved to Hawkins when I was in the fourth grade,” Dustin continued, finally glancing back up from his speech. “I had never been to Indiana before, and I had no idea what to expect. Would it be scary having to make new friends? Would I hate it here? Would I miss my old life? In short, the answer was: yes.”

Several adults laughed, whether out of genuinely finding it funny or just to be polite, Dustin couldn’t be sure. Pausing for a moment, Dustin found his mother’s eyes as she filmed him, an encouraging smile on her face. 

“Yes, at first I did hate it here. I missed Minnesota. I ate alone for a full week before anyone asked if I wanted to sit with them. I barely spoke in class, and I struggled to adjust to life here at my new school.” Life had been hard when he’d first moved to Hawkins. Dustin had missed his dad, and he’d missed his home in Minnesota. Nothing had made him feel like this stupid move was worth it, not even the cat his mother had gotten them to try to make things easier. 

“But then, I met three people who changed my life forever.” Dustin continued, eyes searching for Will’s and Mike’s in the audience again as he smiled softly. “I met the best friends I could have ever asked for. A few years later, I made even more friends, and they changed my life too. And if it weren’t for them, I don’t know who I’d be today.” He tried to find Max, but he couldn’t see her section very well. He was sure she’d understand, though. 

“Life can be scary. Oftentimes, we are presented with challenges that we did not ask to face. Sometimes, life can seem like it’s been turned upside down, and like my friends showed me, you have to be willing to rise to the occasion in order to overcome it.” 

That was the understatement of the decade, but Dustin couldn’t just launch into the story of what they had all been through over the years. This was as close as he could get to publicly acknowledging it, slipping the reference to the Upside Down in for those who would know what he meant. They had lived through Hell - but all of them were still standing here today. All of them had made it to graduation, which was a huge milestone for them. And Dustin honestly felt like he was only here because he had had five incredible people helping him along the way. 

“I learned from Mike Wheeler to always jump headfirst into danger if it means rescuing a friend,” Dustin said, smiling at Mike as he remembered the other being willing to jump off a cliff for him. Not many people would consider doing that, and Mike had done it without a second thought. 

“From Lucas Sinclair, I learned that it’s important to be cautious of the situations you encounter, but to not let them keep you from doing what’s right.” Lucas was always their voice of reason, always the one to help them see things that the rest of them couldn’t. At the end of the day, he could see the difficulties that they would have to face, but he never backed down from a challenge. Dustin admired him for that. 

 “Will Byers taught me that in the face of adversity, you have to do what you have to do to survive,” He continued, looking at Will. He saw one of the strongest people he had ever met. Will had been through so much, had fought so hard to be here with them now, and had always been able to do it with kindness. He led with love, and Dustin was a better person for knowing him. 

“Like Max Mayfield, I hope to always embrace every obstacle I face with tenacity and courage.” She was the bravest of them. A warrior through and through, someone who had had so many shitty situations thrown at them in life, but who still found the courage to make friends. To not let herself be controlled by her grief or by her rage, which would have been easy and understandable. Instead, she was a good person, even if Dustin wouldn’t admit that to her face. 

“And like El, I hope to always be there when my friends need me the most.” Eleven might have had to miss milestones with them over the years, but when it counted, she was there. She was a true superhero, Dustin believed that in his core. 

“I don’t know what lies before us today, graduates.” Dustin continued, glancing back up into the audience of parents. “Hawkins has seen many tragedies, but I hope that there is a bright future waiting for each of us. As we leave Hawkins High today, may you take with you all of the skills and life lessons that our teachers imparted on us. May you remember the good times you have had with each other, and not dwell on the bad. Let who you might be in the future shape you just as much as what has happened to you in the past. And always know that you have people willing to help you when things feel impossibly difficult.”

“Before we leave, I would like to thank my friends, my mother, my girlfriend Suzie, and my teachers for always supporting me and being there for me. Each of you has changed my life for the better, and set me on the path I am on currently.” He wished Suzie had been able to make it, just like he wished he’d been able to go to her graduation. It was just too far and the dates were too close together - but they’d call each other later to talk about it, he was sure. And no matter what, Dustin would be there to see her graduate MIT in four years.

As his eyes shifted through the crowd of faces, he finally landed on someone who he wasn’t surprised to see there, but hadn’t necessarily expected either. In the fourth row from the top, Dustin could see Scott Clarke beaming at him. In one hand, he held a camcorder, and the other was waving encouragingly at Dustin, who smiled back sincerely. 

“I want to leave you today with some advice I received shortly after moving to Hawkins,” Dustin said this directly to his former science teacher, hoping the man knew just how much he had shaped Dustin’s middle school years. “Hawkins High Graduating Class of 1988, I hope that you never stop being curious. Always open any curiosity door that you find. Never be afraid to be yourself, because that person is always good enough, even if it may not seem like it at the time.” He watched as Scott wiped a tear with his free hand, continuing to film the speech.

“Congratulations, and go forth into the world ready to take on any challenge, knowing that your party is by your side.” Dustin finished, smiling and nodding at the applause he received. Not everyone would have understood it, and even fewer understood everything he’d meant, but it was clear the love he’d felt for those he had talked about. They truly had shaped Dustin into who he was today. Lucas, Max, Mike, Will, and El. His mother. Steve. Eddie. Nancy. Robin. Mr. Clarke. All of the people who’d come into his life and changed it for the better. 

Dustin was standing here today because they had taken a chance on him, had seen him for who he was and had loved him, not in spite of it, but because of it. And he loved each of them. No matter what happened to them in the future, Dustin would always be grateful for the time he had had with them. 

[starlooove]

Ok so like my issue is that I have so many AUs revolving my oc that I can’t give a set story or even anything definitive abt how they fit into the timeline so imma just give interesting factoids or whatever;

-batcat kid but specifically an Afro Cuban Selina so the kids afro cuban

-I can’t decide on a gender BUT for names I’m thinking Simón (like See-Mon) but I change my mind by the hour so

-I think their specialty would be stealth and info gathering on a street level as opposed to online. Like I think they’d have the hiding in plain sight thing totally down and they don’t do stakeouts cause they can literally sneak in anywhere when they feel like it.

-Very sticky fingers. Doesn’t even meant to steal shit sometimes and will even return things to their siblings after they notice. Damian goes through an existential crisis when they return a whole fucking sword he didn’t notice was missing.

-Has abandonment issues in the: I’ll screw u over before u screw me over kinda way, and a tendency to run from consequences. Big moment for them is doing smth wrong and instead of hiding or flat out leaving till it’s forgotten, they decide to just stay and take whatever happens. (Whatever they did doesn’t have to be a big deal, maybe like a knocked over vase or whatever; but it’s a big moment in the sense that they feel so secure in not just their place in the fam but the fact that the fam loves them that they can get grounded and be fine or whatever.)

-split up from Selina a lot when it came to escaping or just general wandering for awhile but they always made their way back to eachother. The kind of ppl that can go months without speaking and be completely fine when they come back (tho they absolutely prefer not to and make it a point to see eachother at least thrice a week when the kid gets older)

-Selina’s vv protective of the kid but also doesn’t want them to grow up spoiled and with the ability to survive if smth ever happened to her. She feels like a shitty parent sometimes bc her kid doesn’t seem socially ready for so many things but she can’t help but feel a surge of pride or vindication whenever her kid comes out stronger after something tough. It makes everything worth it when her kid can babble about how they fought off some thug, even if her heart aches as she’s bandaging their bruised knuckles.

-Twin whips. This is me projecting a bit (finding out ppl don’t generally use two nunchucks on the regular after tmnt 2012 fucked me up) but they don’t feel comfortable if they’re not dual wielding. They can’t use one pistol, it’s gotta be two. It just makes them feel unbalanced and unprotected so they follow in their moms footsteps but yknow they had to double it

-big ole eyes. Slightly unsettling. They’re green and if you look at them too fast you could swear their pupils look like slits at times…

-causes problems on purpose and is genuinely surprised by the consequences

-if they ever got caught and genuinely couldn’t escape, Selina would step in but if she thought they could make it out on their own she’d leave some kind of sign or clue as to how to go about it. She’s so proud when they don’t take her cue and escape on their own for the first time.

-is very used to going unnoticed so ppl who are extremely perceptive or pay too much attention to them freaks them out and it makes them kinda defensive. Someone asking about their day will feel like an attempt at getting them to admit to smth and they’ll respond as such.

-don’t know whether to make them younger than Damian or his age for the sheer comedy but either way they get along with him and Duke the most

-starts picking up the caveman grunts from Bruce and everyone is trying to get them out of it. “Let’s use our word sugarplum :)” “Hn.”

-toxic trait is they expect everyone to know what they’re feeling despite looking like they were etched from fucking marble all the time. They genuinely think they’re an open book and don’t understand why Tim doesn’t get that they don’t ACTUALLY hate him they just said that in a fit of rage and it doesn’t matter anymore because it’s over with.

-very go with the flow kinda person tho. “This might as well happen” personified

-smoothtalker to the max, can lie like a fucking rug. Considering their actual blunt kinda awkward personality, watching them lie so smoothly is almost as jarring as watching Batman become brucie wayne.

-if someone talks shit Abt Bruce it’s whatever and same for most of their siblings but they’ll step for Selina and Jason 😭 (spreading my close Selina and Jason agenda btw)

-tells Jason that if he doesn’t take them on a joyride around Gotham, they’ll let themselves get caught in Bristol and tell Selina that he wasn’t watching their back. They get batburger on the way back

-is very black and white at times and they know that ppl CAN change but they’re also not very forgiving. “Fool me once and fuck you I can’t wait to dance on your fucking Grave” kinda thing.

-big moment is them telling Damian or smth “I don’t wanna be mad at you anymore” and forgiving them for smth big. Smth Abt love being worth heartache and smth Abt how ppl can hurt you w/o meaning too but that doesn’t mean they love u any less or whatever.

-that’s kinda all I got

-OH! They’re darkskinned btw. None of that light caramel macchiato swirl yall always do to mixed kids. I’m thinking Eartha Kitt or Harley Quinn show Selina so they’d be somewhere in there with dark hair. They get strong brows from Bruce (I’m thinking duckytrees drawings of him) and the way they emote is all him.

[neonpigeons]

complaining about my dad under the read more

ugh I'm in such a bad mood and it's mostly because of my dad. he thinks it's funny to scare noodle so it puts him on edge and that pisses me off. and ofc if I say anything about it he gets mad at me for "taking it too seriously."

he's also done this thing my entire life where he pretends he heard what I said. he's hard of hearing and I don't hold that against him, but anytime I try to talk to him he just doesn't even try to listen? I'll ask him a question and he'll just say "yeah" or just ignore me. sometimes I have to repeat myself 5 times before he hears. he has hearing aids but he only wears them at work. so he always has the TV on a super high volume and it grates on me. I like. literally can't talk to him at all. he doesn't know me at all. he never cares to try anyway.

I also made 4 cheese gnocchi tonight and I hadn't eaten any yet and he was like "oh you made food!" when I was in the other room and I was like "yeah whatever he can have some" but he took most of the pan 😭😭😭 he only left a few spoonfuls. I'm unreasonably sad about that lol...

I hate living with him but when he's not in shitty moods he's like "I'm so thankful you still live here and appreciate all the work you do in the house so much" so like wtf am I supposed to do. I want to move out at some point so fucking badly but he probably couldn't live on his own. I know that's not really my problem but my siblings and my mom all moved away and now I'm the unlucky idiot who's stuck here. and I don't have a job, tho hopefully that'll change soon.

I'm just so tired and don't know what to do. I've talked to my mom about it a few times but she's like "just move out." it's easy for her to say, she moved to NY after getting into a secret relationship with some guy online 4 years ago and saved up all her money + her family got settlement money for her mom's wrongful death.

and like. I could move in with her but that's a lot to uproot. I only have a few friends and they live on this side of the country. and I don't really want to live in NYC if I'm being honest. I want to move to oregon. but again. it's a lot to do before then. my mom left so many of her things here, our garage is full of so much stuff I'd have to go through. my dad's stuff included but his ability to stand isn't great so doing smth like that is hard for him.

I know eventually things will work out but for now. I need to vent so I don't explode. I just keep all this shit repressed. I know if I had figured out my life and wasn't born with such a shitty brain and body I wouldn't be in this stupid situation and nothing I do has made it any better. but. yeah. I'm fine just overwhelmed constantly

[jma3m]

Apology

Possible Trigger: referenced suicide baiting.

Bakugou wants to apologize to Midoriya.

Midoriya Izuku sits contently in his small apartment. There are smudges of different blues and greens smeared across his face and apron. He feels at peace in the calm environment. The sound of the latest small-time jpop group he discovered plays in the background as he loses himself in his newest hobby. This is the best he's felt in a long time, which isn't saying much considering he lives in a society that views him as useless because he never manifested a quirk. It could have been the most useless and dumbest quirk in the world to be honest. At least then he would have been able to make friends, apply to the schools he wanted to go to, and get a job he would actually enjoy. But he’s learned to live with it. After all, the only real alternative was taking advice from someone he hasn’t seen since his middle school days. And while his life does suck, it’s not enough to push him off the edge, yet.

Taking a final look at his painting Izuku decides it's good enough and leaves it to dry. He begins gathering the materials to wash when he hears a knock on his door. A sigh escapes his lips. It isn’t uncommon for his mother to make surprise visits. But a look around the apartment just makes him wince. The least she could have done was let him know she was stopping by so he had time to clean up a little first. In a rush, he jams his painting materials into his sink and plasters on the biggest smile he can as he opens the door.

"Hi mom! What a sup-" Izuku cuts himself off at the sight before him. The man in his doorway was definitely not his mother. Unless she had somehow grown taller than him, dyed her hair blond, and changed into the pro hero Dynamite ( a.k.a his ex-childhood friend, a.k.a his former tormenter, a.k.a the Bakugou Katsuki) Someone he’s seen maybe three times in the last estimated eight years (all of which ended with him performing ninja samurai moves to avoid being spotted by said hero). In other words, Izuku tried to not see him after they went their separate ways for high school eight years ago. The only times they did interact with each other were because their moms were still best friends and had "Family Dinners" every now and then. The two boys were never left alone during those times. Izuku made sure of it.

"You just gonna stand there catching flies or what?!" Bakugou exclaims as aggressively as Izuku remembers. His mouth moves like it's trying to form words but no sound is coming out. How is one even supposed to respond in this situation? He feels cornered and like he's in danger. This is his first time being alone with Bakugou. Stupid universe not giving him a quirk to get out of this situation. The ability to go back in time three seconds? Or to see the future? Heck, he’d even be fine with a cactus for a head. He’s sure he could use that somehow.

"Um.. C-can I help you B-Bakugou?" Izuku cringes at the stuttered out sentence. Somehow after all these years the sight of Bakugou still brought fear to his stomach. fear he can hear in his own voice. Bakugou's permanent glare deepens and a low growl is heard. The truth is he doesn't like that the nerd isn't calling him Kacchan anymore. Izuku doesn't know what upset him just now but he assumes he did something wrong and is quick to apologize. "Sorry! I um D-did you need something? Oh! Wait I already asked you that but in d-different words-" He starts rambling but squeaks when he's cut off.

"Shut it shitty nerd! I don't need anything from you!" Bakugou yells but retracts into himself after seeing Midiroriya flinch. Why did this have to be so difficult for him! He's been going to therapy since he started at UA and anger management classes since last year. And it's not like he wasn't sorry for everything he's done. In fact, it's quite the opposite. After going to therapy and trying to be a better person, the guilt of all he's done to Midoriya eats him up inside and keeps him up at night. Though he would never admit to all that. "Tch. Can I... come in or whatever?" He asks. He takes note of how scared Midoriya looks at the thought of letting him in. "I'm not gonna hurt you or anything stupid nerd!" He's stopped referring to him as Deku. Midoriya slowly opens the door more to let Bakugou in. Bakugou walks all the way in and makes himself comfortable on Midoriya's couch. "That's a nice painting, Nerd." Bakugou says quietly.

"Ah! N-not really! It's just a new hobby of m-mine but thank you!" Izuku's face goes red. He isn't used to getting compliments and doesn't know how to accept them. Bakugou doesn't push the topic and instead gets right to the point.

"I'm sorry." It's quiet but firm. Izuku's mouth falls open once again. This time he gained his composure quickly and with our prompting.

"Huh? S-sorry? What for?" The look of genuine confusion makes Bakugou's gut twist. He wants to look away and hide. But he can't. Only shitty weaklings can't face the consequences of their actions. Even if he's doing it seven-ish years too late at least he's doing it.

"The fuck you mean for what?! I was a fucken dick to you for our entire lives! That's what for!" There is a scowl on his face but he's not angry. He's insecure and scared and he feels so much guilt. But how can he possibly convey all that? Especially to Izuku? With the way he treated him does he even have a right to-

"Oh! N-no you didn't do anything w-wrong!" What. What the fuck. "I mean everyone was d-doing it! And at least you were g-giving me real advice! So no need to apologize!" What. The. FUCK. Bakugou feels like he’s been doused in ice water.

"Hah? What the fuck?! Just because everyone else was doing it doesn't mean it was ok! And advice? What the fuck? You coulda been the first quirkless hero for all we know had I not been such an ass! And let's not forget the "advice" I gave you after the first day of our last year of middle school! I was out of line and you never did anything to deserve any of it! So I'm sorry because it was wrong of me to take everything out on you and ruin your life!" He didn't mean to sound so angry but he was really starting to get worried. How was he supposed to apologize to someone who doesn't even realize that he was wronged?

"Bakugou... You d-didn't ruin my life and it isn't your fault. No one t-told you it wasn't ok. That's just how q-quirkless people get treated. You d-don't need to apologize to me. And you w-were right about me not being able to be a hero. I can't even get a r-real job. There's always s-someone with a quirk who is m-more qualified even though I graduated and h-have my degree." His tone was calm, sad, and accepting. He really doesn’t like sharing his struggles with him but how else is he supposed to soothe Bakugou and get him out of his home? This is absolutely rage-inducing for Bakugou. The shitty nerd has a whole college education and can't do any better than whatever the fuck he's got going now because of stupid fucking society?! His stomach churns again with the acknowledgment that he contributed heavily to Midoriya's struggles.

“Shut. Up.” Bakugou is clearly trying not to completely explode. Literally. His face is down with his eyes squeezed shut. He takes a few deep breaths before looking back up at the green-haired man. “None of that shit matters. I was still a fucken terror and I’m sorry. You don’t have to accept it and you don’t have to forgive me or anything but stop it with the fucken excuses.” Apparently taking a moment to breathe works well for him. He looked beaten as he said it but at least he wasn’t angry. Midoriya suddenly finds his house slippers very interesting. Something that he buried a long time ago seems to be climbing and clogging his throat. He isn’t sure why but he suddenly feels like if he talks he’ll burst into tears like he used to. He doesn’t want to. Not in front of Bakugou. Not anymore. So he takes a moment and represses his feelings to deal with later when he’s alone.

“Okay Bakugou. I forg-”

“Shut it. You can’t forgive someone if you don’t even acknowledge whatever the fuck it is they’ve done to you. See a fucken therapist THEN we can talk about this again.” He uses a glare to hide the worry he actually feels. Just like before but less dangerous now. He hates this. This whole situation makes him feel so pathetic but he knows he needs to do this.

“A therapist?” It comes out so soft that Bakugou almost thinks he imagined it. But he knows he heard it when the surprised expression matches the tone he thought he heard. It’s almost as if he never thought that therapy was an option for him. Or maybe he’s just surprised that someone thinks he needs it. And of all people to recommend it to him, it‘s Bakugou!

“Yes a fucking therapist! You’re clearly fucked in the head so get some stupid fucking help or whatever!” His words are aggressively spoken but hidden in them is a plea and deep within the anger in his voice was concern. When he finishes he stomps over to the door again but before actually leaving he turns his head to shout over his shoulder “AND YOU COULD PROBABLY SELL YOUR PAINTING FOR MORE MONEY IF YOU NEEDED! I SAID IT WAS GOOD AND I DON’T SAY SHIT I DON’T MEAN!” The door slams shut after that and Izuku is then left with a still quiet before the storm in his mind. Therapy huh?

[dzpenumbra]

8/28/22

I'm in a bad place. I woke up after 4 hours of sleep. My cat was trying to comfort me. My heart was pounding, my mind was racing. My optimism, my hope, my will was crumbling. I was frantic and scared and crying.

The leaves are already falling and I don't have a place lined up to move to. My roof is literally collapsing, it's irreparable and I've been living with it for over 2 years, I can't do another winter freaking out about my roof collapsing again. I don't even know the area I'm going to move to. And there are really no rentals available anyway. I look at the work that I make, that I committed myself fully to doing this summer. I see things that no one wants. That my closest supporters look at and say "oh cool" in passing, then pick up their phone and look at what they really want to see, made by someone else. I've been steadily losing confidence in my ability to make this art/music/poetry/streaming hybrid career ever turn into anything. I defend it a lot in my journals here, but I'm really starting to realize that I'm the only one defending it. All of those in supporting roles have encouraged me to do something else.

I'm at the stage again where I'm pretty much ready to give up. I tried. I feel like I could give it years more, but the price I've been paying to do so is just... unimaginable. A 9 and a half hour conflict today, entirely focused on how fucked up my life is. To put that in context, that's almost an entire iPhone battery charge worth of phone call. With my Mom of course, who lives 5 minutes away.

I'm just starting to look around and see that I don't really have anything left. I have possessions that I don't really use, maybe I can sell those to make the move easier, god knows I'll be doing it alone. I have my cat, I love her with all my heart, even if she bites me because we don't play enough. I have my will to persevere, which unfortunately has been crumbling, but it's still there somehow. That's about it, honestly.

My stupid medical shit, failed "live-in" (aka one-foot-out-the-door renting an apartment while living with me and running off to it every week) relationship, and being reassured that I will be supported in pursuing my creative career has left my resume entirely empty for many years. I'm deeply afraid that once I finally give up, I won't be able to get a "real job". I'm not even sure if I'll be able to rent an apartment, I don't have proof of income. I really hope so.

I have been in similar situations back in college, like waaaaaay back. It was so much easier to take gigantic swan-dives into new life situations when I hadn't adapted to certain ways of living, and when the darkness of the world was much more... cartoonish and less real. I'm very afraid. I'm afraid of being alone in a city. I'm afraid of ending up in a shitty living situation and having no plan B. But that's my situation. That's just what it is. And me sitting here and trembling like a leaf isn't going to change it.

This sucks. Like... it's just bleak. I haven't felt this hopeless in a very long time. I feel like the best I can hope for is getting some job at like a gaming shop or a skate shop or something and just try to keep a roof over my head. And I guess that isn't the end of the world. The vision that I had just a few weeks ago, that mental picture of me making art on commission, streaming, writing, playing gigs, all that. It feels like a joke. It's something I might do for a few hours on the weekend, maybe. The dream is dying. Again.

I hope this is just a phase, or a response to being treated really poorly at a time of extreme vulnerability. I really hope the dream isn't actually dead and I'm just expressing my pain this way. It's really hard to tell.

We'll see what tomorrow brings. Here's hoping I can fix up my sleep schedule a bit.

[idontknowwhatiwantworld]

Can There Be Both Destiny and Free Will? If Not, Which Do You Believe to Be True?

 

  This question has me stumped! I've been coming back to it every other day to try to answer it. I've decided to just write and see where it takes me. This is a tricky topic because I don't think there is a yes or no answer for me, which is exciting. There's so much to discuss.

  Destiny is defined as 'the events that will necessarily happen to a particular person or thing in the future' or 'the hidden power believed to control what will happen in the future; fate.' If those are the two definitions I get to choose from, I'd say I believe in the first one. I believe that humans need something to believe in, whether it's religion, astrology, family values, etc. It gives life a purpose and makes you want to do good things. Also, 'to a particular person or thing' makes me think about predator vs prey; some things just aren't meant to live very long. Predators need to hunt, and the prey are destined to be hunted. What I don't believe is that destiny is always to blame for why things happen; actions have consequences, and I don't think it was my destiny to end up in corporate banking or to end up in shitty relationships in the past. I have the free will to change those things in my life.

  Free will is defined as 'the power of acting without the constraint of necessity or fate; the ability to act at one's own discretion. I get extremely overwhelmed by free will; I believe in it more than I believe in destiny. The reason I find it so overwhelming is because for the past few years I have not acted on it. Truly if I wanted to today I could quit my job and move to another country. Would it be hard? Of course but it is possible, I could buy a one way ticket to anywhere in the world. I don’t need to work a 9-5, that’s what I choose to do with my free will because I love comfortability and consistency. I use to give myself the grace to dream and dream BIG. That has diminished over the years, but I know I will get it back at some point.

  I use to act on my free will more often when i was younger. I am fortunate enough to lead a privileged life in most aspects. I was born into a family that would be defined as poor; my mother lived off the government due to mental health issues. Despite this, my mom still did her best to give us a childhood that I'd say was good. Of course, my mom did things that had a lasting effect on me, but I don't think it was ever intentional; she loved us. We moved from apartment to apartment as we were dependent on section 8 for housing. I've probably lived in six different apartment complexes and went to seven different schools; my childhood lacked consistency (which is why consistency is so important to me now). Sometimes we'd have food, and sometimes we'd have to wait a week for the food stamps to come in before we could eat a proper meal. However, I always went to bed with food in my stomach, laid my head down on a pillow, under a roof. My mom always figured it out.

 One thing that triggered me from living with my mother was the state of our apartments. They were always messy; I'd say my mom had a slight hoarding issue. There was always just stuff all around, always trash everywhere. In order to take a shower, I'd have to climb over what felt like a mountain of clothes on the floor or step on razors, old shampoo bottles, dried up soap before I was able to reach the shower knob. My mother was always home, and she didn't have many friends. The ones she did have were not great. We also didn't have a car, it was hard to get around, we always had to depend on someone.

  I love my mother, but I did not want to end up like her. She wasn't my role model. I wanted a clean space, I wanted a job, and I wanted a car. So I made the choice to work. From the age of 16, I got my first job serving chicken. It was life-changing to finally have money. I got my driver's license and soon after got my first car. I graduated from high school, which was something I didn't think I was able to do. I worked two jobs and was able to move out by 20. Somehow, I ended up in banking and worked my way up. I make more money than my mom would know what to do with. That doesn't mean I don't still struggle I do, but that’s the beauty of free will, I can do anything that I want. I made the decision with my free will to do better. I knew I didn't want to live a life like the one I lived growing up. I wanted to be able to order pizza any day of the week!

  Now, I understand that some people are born into a life that doesn't give them these opportunities. I know there are deep traumas that lead you down a dark path. I am not blind to that. That's why I find this question so hard to answer. That is why I believe in destiny, every deserves a chance to hope for more or hope that there is more to life. My human experience is not the same as yours and it never will be. I do know that we make choices throughout our lives, and we have the power to make those choices because of our free will. I also believe some people are destined to be life's prey. Apologies if this post seems all over the place. I just always have a lot to say!

Photo Link: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1070941986372239789/

[medicinemane]

My mom's in a fucking toddler throwing tantrums mood about shit

Like I don't care about whatever shit's going on in your head (especially cause this morning you force me to be therapist then snap at me for saying not the perfect thing)

Clearly I'm fucked in the head myself, you here know literally better than anyone else the state I'm always in

You can't let it get in the way though, as in you have to fucking take care of shit regardless of how you're doing

Here her down there yelling and cussing (which... not great for my mental health due to the past), well the shitty curtain rods had come down, and instead of just getting me to put them back up she's trying to do it herself

I don't care that you feel bad about getting old, fucking do the division of the labor in a way that makes sense. You literally can't do this, you're in the way by trying. You want to be useful, go through shit like I always ask you to, that helps me infinitely more than you putting up a curtain rod

Is this callous? Absolutely. Anyone else I'd have more sympathy for, but barring my grandma anyone else hasn't treated me like shit and told me no one could ever love me (not incorrect, but unacceptable to tell a kid)

You feel like shit because you missed an email about getting into an anthology? That sucks, but you can't just wallow

There's not a day that goes by when I don't feel like trash. Your parents made you feel guilty about not being able to work? Fucking shocking but they did the same to me, and I've never managed a paid job (only volunteer and clinicals stuff), but I just fucking swallow those feelings and stick to the plan

I feel like shit about not bringing in an income, but getting the place cleaned up has to come before making money, especially since any plan I tried would still be half cocked. I but my damn feelings aside and focus on what brings stability

She's a fucking bringer of chaos cause she never stops and thinks, she nearly lost her disability because she got the great idea to apply for an old job she would have had to drive 2 hours to and get a hotel that pays less then her disability does

Dipshit, you may not like it, but the disability is your job at this point. Help out around the house if you want something to do that actually adds value. I keep asking you for that one thing, and you keep wasting time on shit that doesn't pay but "might someday" because otherwise you might be a failure

Well here's the news, you are. You're a burden. You're a millstone. You treated me like shit growing up, you destroyed my ability to be close to family, you made me even more isolated than I was already inclined to be, and now I have to let you live with me... what's to be done?

Get a therapist or get your shit together on your own. Stop making it my problem. Suck it up and just ask for help. You want to do something? Get the mail so I'm not straining myself to get it when my insomnia is bad. There's shit you can do that would help, but you refuse to do it, and instead you wail and throw fits cause you can't do shit you feel inferior for not being able to do

You gave me terrible self esteem, you and your parents have made me feel like trash. What I say about here is a small fraction of what I actually think, but it doesn't matter

Nothing gets fixed unless I keep moving forward. It probably can't change me not being able to get the one thing I want, but my house is a miles better situation than anything I've had before, and there's so much more I can get and make better about my life

Fucking quite making me emotionally regulate you. You made me do that so much when I was little that... I don't know... doesn't put me in a fucking good place when I have to do it

The kitchen was clean till you fucked it up, almost all of the mess I have to go through is your shit. You put your emotional regulation on me

How about instead of worrying if you've gotten physically weak, which while I'm all for doing practical stuff like psychical therapy style exercises, the fact is you can't meaningfully change... how about instead of that you do shit that you can do and that would really make a difference?

But no, you're from your family, and the only reason I don't use that last name like an insult right now is to avoid doxxing myself. It's a trash lineage cause you and your parents are assholes

Many things wrong with me, but at least I never had a kid, treated them like trash, let my parents really really treat them like trash, and then forced them to raise me and take care of me

You want to stop being pathetic? Start there, start by just handling your shit, and then just get me to fix the curtain rod instead of doing shit that sends me back to real bad times, and then I have to fix it anyway