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afictionaladventure16 · 1 year

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Heyyy!!! I absolutely loved your latest work “Taking it All In” I haven’t stopped crying since I read it. I was wondering if you could write something about the depression that the reader has in the story. Something along the lines where reader has been skipping school for some time due to depression and she hasn’t told Pedro about it. He finds out cuz eventually the school calls him and tells him whats going on with your absences and your bad grades. You two get into a fight about it because you refuse to tell him what’s going on as to not worry your dad. After days of not talking, cold shoulders and staying in your room/bed as much as possible Pedro finally cracks and tries to talk to you again. You’re in laying on your bed not wanting to move while Pedro is talking to you and he notices small cuts on your arm that your trying to hide, way to linear to be from your cat, and he finally puts the pieces together.

Taking It All In Pt. II (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pt. 1

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings: Descriptions of Self-harm, mentions of depression, suicide, and some slight hinting of eating disorders.

A/N: Thank you! You're so sweet! I hope you like this part two of Taking it All in!! Also, thank you for the details in your requests! It helps to plan what to write!

It’s been months after that hike with your father. You had gotten help, but it only helped so much. You had this fear that if you told your therapist your actual thoughts, you’d end up somewhere where grippy socks were mandatory.

It didn’t help that you found your mother, you hadn’t told your father, but you searched and searched the internet until you found her. The woman who was so afraid of loving you, afraid of having a life with your dad, she was alive and well.

She was happy too. You would think it would make you feel happy to hear that she was happy, to see the photos of her and her family, her two kids and husband. But all it did was take you to a dark place. The images of her at her sons' soccer game, or her at her daughters' recital. It should be you in those photos with her.

This whole time you thought your mother was most likely dead or if she were alive, she was alone in some other country probably traveling. You didn’t ever imagine that she could have started another life. You hadn’t brought it up to your therapist, mostly because they’ve been trying to help you cope with other issues in your life. It was mostly how you felt about constantly having to travel from place to place or not having your father around as much, it meant a lot of journaling. Plus, if you told your therapist, it meant telling your father and you didn’t know how he’d react or if he already knew.

What if he already knew. You hadn’t thought of that, it was another scenario that could happen, another scenario you don’t know if you can handle.

You heard the front door open and then close, “I’m home!” You heard your dad call out.

You sighed to yourself, you had ditched another day of school, but luckily for you your dad left for meetings before you even got up. Meaning that it was easy to ditch. In fact, you hadn’t gone to school at all the past week.

Pedro was met with silence, he shrugged, “probably studying,” he muttered to himself. He made his way over to the kitchen to get dinner started. He wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he knew a thing or two.

You made your way down the hall, “There she is!” Pedro said as he heard your footsteps get closer, “Hey, I was thinking, how does spaghetti sound tonight?” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of apple juice.

“Sure,” you said with a shrug. You poured yourself a cup of apple juice, putting away the bottle right after.

“Long day at school?” You gave him a nod. “Alright, well, go ahead and rest. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” You felt horrible for lying to him. He had thought everything was getting better and that you were beginning to feel happier, but it was all just a lie. It was a mask.

** mentions of self-harm begin here **

You walked back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. The lying, the feeling of abandonment, everything, it just felt like it was all tumbling down. You pulled up your sleeves, revealing the linear cuts that you had done to yourself. It started off with something small, hitting your hands against something when you were mad, but the pain felt kind of nice.

Not kind of, it did feel nice. It took away the pain of everything in your mind for a moment and you liked it. You liked your mind being peaceful for just a moment. But those moments only lasted a few seconds and you needed something that would last longer. You had saw some girls with some cuts on their wrists at school, it wasn’t till one day you aksed one of the girls what they were while you both were in the bathroom. The girl seemed a bit embarrassed but you were genuinely curious. She explained what they were, but she didn’t explain it further.

For weeks you couldn’t help but think about it, but the thought of hurting yourself in that way seemed scary. What if you went too deep or if you got caught? But a week ago, when your dad had to work late, you felt yourself drowning in your thoughts. Hitting yourself against your bedframe wasn’t working. That was the night you first self-harmed, you felt lucky that the weather was getting cold again so hiding your scars was easy.

Your dad played some music while he began to boil the pasta. Your cat watched from the other side of the counter, he knew his boundaries and Pedro seemed to like the company. Pedro began to slowly dance to the rhythm of the song playing until it was cut off by the sound of ringtone, “That’s not part of the song,” he grumbled as he grabbed his phone.

The number looked familiar, he hesitated on answering, “Could be important or a scam,” he muttered. He shrugged to himself before answering the phone, “hello?”

“Hi! This is Linda from the JFK High School, may I speak to Y/N Pascal’s father?”

“This is he speaking,” Pedro responded. He had no clue why your school would be calling.

“Hi, Mr. Pascal! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past few days, it wasn’t until we looked through our files that we realized we had an old phone number.”

“Ah, yes, I changed my number. Probably should’ve updated you guys on that,” is that it? He thought.

“It’s quite alright, but the real reason why we’ve been trying to get ahold you is because we’ve noticed that Y/N hasn’t been attending her classes for the past week.”

Pedro stopped what he was doing, placing the wooden spoon he had in his hand down on the counter, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.”

“I’m afraid not. Her teachers are beginning to worry now that her grades have been slipping and she hasn’t been showing up. We were wondering if maybe the family went on vacation and someone forgot to notify the school?”

“N-No, we’re not on vacation,” Pedro looked towards the hall.

“Well, is there any reason why she hasn’t been in school?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought she had been going to clases this whole time.”

“Will she be there on Monday?”

“She’ll be there Monday,” he stated.

“It is my obligation to let you know that if the student doesn’t show up for school for another full week that the school will revoke certain privileges for Y/N.” Pedro knew the consequences of you missing school, it could also mean jail time on his case.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. Thank you, Linda.”

“Of course,” Linda said before hanging up.

Pedro placed his phone back on the counter, he then shut off the burners on the stove. “What do I do, gatito?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know what to say or ask even. He let out a deep sigh before making his way down the hall.

He knocked on your door, “Mija, puedo entrar?” (Can I enter?)

You opened the door, “dinner is ready already?” you asked with a confused expression on your face.

Pedro felt his heart break, there you stood, his little girl, in front of him. He never expect you to miss school and not tell him, it only meant one thing. You were lying to him about everything. “No,” he said softly. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but there was a part of him that wanted to yell and ask why the hell you werent going to schoo. Then there was that nurturing side of him that just wanted to ask you why you weren’t going to school. Both had the same question, just a different way of approaching it. “Can I come in?”

You shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You watched as he sat on the edge of your bed, “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?” He asked

You chuckled slightly, expecting some dumb question, “okay.”

“Mija, no estoy bromeando horita, necesito que me escuches.” (I’m not joking right now, I need you to listen).

Oh fuck, he knows, you thought. You gave him a nod, “did you miss school this past week?” You nod again. Pedro took in a deep breath, “Why?”

You shrugged, “papi, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal!?” He yelled as he stood up. “Mija, do you know I can go to jail because you haven’t gone to school!? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Que te estabas pensando, huh!?” (What were you thinking?)

You felt tears well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry! I just didn’t feel like going!”

“If you don’t feel like going then you tell me! How come you didn’t tell me?” You remained silent, Pedro let out a deep sigh, trying to calm down again. “What’s going on, Y/N??”

“Nothing,” you whispered.

“No me dices que nada esta pasando, por que tu no te comportas como asi. Tu eres mi hija, y yo queiro saber que esta pasando.” (Don’t tell me that nothing is happening because you don’t behave like this, You’re my daughter and I want to know what is going on.)

“Nada esta pasando!” You yelled, “Deja me en paz!” You walked out of your room. (Nothing is happening, leave me alone)

“Dejarte en paz?!” He followed you out. “What is going on with you?!”

“Would you just leave it alone? I didn’t go to school this week and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go to school on monday, just leave it alone!”

“I’m not just gonna brush this off, this is serious, Y/N! Missing school for a week? You can’t just do that! So, what is going on?”

“Ugh! I don’t have to tell you every fucking thing okay?!” You yelled. You believe that this was probably the first time you ever yelled at your dad. The first time you had ever gotten in such a big argument. Didn’t mean that you two didn’t argue, you argued but it never led to a screaming match. Not like this.

Pedro stood there in disbelief, “Y/N M/N Pascal, I am your father and I demand to know what the hell is going on with you.”

You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t just blurt out that you found your mother; but not only did you find her, you also found her new family. You couldn’t tell him that you felt replaceable, that even he was replaceable, at least to your mother. You just couldn’t. “Nothing is going on,” you said.

“You’re grounded,” he said in defeat.

“Fine,” you said as you began to make your way back to your room.

“For two months,” he added. “I’ll need your phone and your game consoles.”

You stopped in the middle of the hall. You were doing this for him, you wanted to keep his happiness even at the cost of your own, “Fine.” You walked into your room, slamming the door behind you.

“Slam the door and I’m taking your T.V.”

You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck you,” you spat. You had instantly regretted saying it. Pedro stood there for a second, in shock mostly. He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take your T.V. as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to take any of it away. He partially said it in hopes that you’d crack and tell him what was going on.

He heard the cat meow at his feet, he looked down, “I think I’m loosing her, gatito,” he whispered before turning around and making his way down the hall and back to the kitchen.

Days went by, you didn’t speak to your dad all weekend. Spending most of your time in your bedroom, your mind was all over the place and you had self harmed some more. It felt like the more you did, the more you craved it or the more your mind raced, the more you felt the need to have that feeling.

You didn’t eat much either, for some reason you just couldn’t think about eating. Your stomach didn’t feel hungry either so you snacked on small things. When you came home from school on Monday, your dad was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. You walked past him, not saying a word. The tension was thick, someone could cut a knife through it.

Pedro didn’t say anything to you when you walked past him to grab something to drink, even though he wanted to say a million things. He had so much to talk to you about, so many exciting things, but he was stubborn and you were too.

When you didn’t come out for dinner, he left a plate at the foot of your door, knocking to let you know, just like he did for past two days and just like you did, you’d wait a few minutes before grabbing your plate. You would leave it on your desk, hoping that maybe you’d feel some sensation of hunger. Yet, just like the other full plates of food beside it, you’d never touch it.

“Just give her some time,” Javiera said into the phone. Pedro had called her Monday afternoon while he was out for a drive.

“How much time?” he asked, his voice strained from crying. He had called her up crying about twenty minutes ago, and like the big sister she was, she tried her best to console him through the phone.

“A few more days, she’ll crack soon enough,” she said hopeful. “You’re a good dad, Pedro.”

“I sure as hell don’t feel like it right now.”

“I know,” she began, “all parents feel that way one day or another.”

“I just… I wish I knew what happened you know? Why did she all of a sudden just become this totally different person?”

“Teenagers,” she expressed. “Don’t you remember how you were?”

“Don’t get me started,” he chuckled.

“You were the worst!” Pedro knew she was right. He had given his parents a hard time when he was a teenager. “It’ll get better, I promise.”

Tuesday comes and goes and so does Wednesday. By Wednesday night you ate some of your dinner, but you still couldn’t stomach to eat all of it. You only ate because of how dizzy you felt all day. Thursday comes and goes, you caved into your cravings more as each day passed, your arm was full of scars, it felt raw to the touch.

You cried yourself to sleep most nights. Friday night Pedro went to knock on your door, only to hear you crying. He knocked softly, but was only met with “Go away.” He felt so defeated, he wanted this silent treatment to be over with. He wanted his baby girl back and he wanted to help you with whatever you were going through. He knocked again, “Go away!” He shook his head, opening the door, you were laying in bed, your arms covering your face.

“Mija,” he said softly.

“Please, just go away!” you yelled.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it anymore,” he began to say, he noticed the uneaten food on your desk. His heart sunk, looking back over at you, taking in how you looked. He walked over to the desk, some of the food began to develop mold. He let out a shaky breath, walking over to the bed, “Baby girl,” he said. Pedro noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual long sleeve, for a while he was beginning to worry that you had begun to harm yourself because you were always wearing long sleeves.

It relieved him to see you in a short sleeve for once, he inched closer, you still hard your arms covering your face. You were too focused on what was on your mind to realize that your father was near you and that you weren’t wearing a long sleeve. Even if you had realized it, it would be too late.

Pedro spotted something red near your wrists, but your arms were in a position where he couldn’t see your whole wrists. Yet, the small amount he did see was enough to send him in a panic. Pedro was soft with his touch, he grabbed your hand gently, pulling it towards him so he could see your wrists.

You quickly pulled away your arm, holding it close to your chest as you sat up in the bed, “get out,” you said through clenched teeth.

“How long have you been doing that?” Your dad asks, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Get out!” you yelled.

“How long!?” tears fell from his eyes, he stood up from the bed. “How long, Y/N?” he asked again.

“Dad, I don’t want you to cry,” You said as you looked at the ground, “Just please get out.”

“No! I’m not gonna-” he inhaled, “you’re not shutting me out.”

“Please,” you begged as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You got up from the bed, walking over to the door and opening it. “Get out,” you begged.

He shook his head, “Why?” he cried, “Why would you do that to yourself?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, “And don’t say it’s the cat, because that’s too many for the cat. It’s too clean. I thought you were getting better.”

You looked at your dad, you could see the pain you were trying avoid. The heartache you hated to see, “I’m not better,” you confessed. “I’ve never gotten better.”

“What?” He asked in disbelief.

“I didn’t get better, okay?” You said loudly, holding back the sob that was scratching at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“You think I want to hear that my baby girl never got better?” You remained silent. He walked over to you, taking your had to look at the marks again. He sniffled, “My beautiful baby girl,” he sobbed, “why would you do this?”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a deep shaky breath, letting the sob take over you. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, it’s all too much, okay? It’s so loud in here,” you gestured towards your head.

Pedro couldn’t handle seeing you cry, he pulled you in, feeling you tightly wrap your arms around his body. “Why?” he kept asking.

“I was trying to protect you,” your dad let go of the embrace.

He placed his hands on your face, “Mija, I should be the one protecting you, Okay? Whatever it is that you’ve been holding in, I can handle it. You never have to worry about me.”

You wanted to spill everything, it was like the dam inside was breaking and this was just the little drop of water to break it. “I found her,” you confessed.

He looked at you with a confused expression, “who?”

“My mom,” you inhaled, “I found her,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Pedro was in disbelief, she was alive, for the longest he just kind of accepted that she passed away.

“That’s what you were trying to protect me from?” He questioned.

You shook her head, “That’s not the best part,” you began. “You know what the best part is?” You began to walk back over to your bed. You let out a small sob, “The best part is that I also found out that we’re replaceable.” Pedro watched as you sat on your bed, it pained him to see you in such dismay. It also pained him to hear the news that your mother was alive, she was alive and had another family. “The woman we both thought was trying to protect us from herself, is out there with a family of her own-”

“Cariño,” your dad tried to interrupt.

“I have a brother and sister that I don’t even know! And she’s in these pictures laughing with them, she’s at birthday parties and soccer games,” you took in a shaky breathe.

“Y/N,” He took a couple steps towards you.

“That should be me, dad,” There was the drop of water to break the dam. “It should be us,” you sobbed. Pedro quickly pulled you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder, “It should be us,” you sobbed.

“I know, Mija,” he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, “I know.” He let you cry it out for a few minutes, mostly because at that moment he didn’t know what to say exactly. How he should console you after finding out something no one should ever experience. His mind wandered, how could someone create another family when they left one behind? He thought if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew it would always be in the back of his mind that he had abandoned another family.

Did it wander in the back of her head? Or did she just not care?

Pedro felt so angry just thinking about it. He wanted to track her down and just yell into the void. She was the love of his life or so he thought. He had considered her the love of his life, hopeful that one day she’d realize what she left behind and come back. She wasn’t coming back, though and now he knew that. Now he had to console you and find a way to show her what she missed out on.

Pedro let go of the embrace, taking your face in his hands once again. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your face, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again. “We don’t need her,” he started to say.

“But-”

“I know, Mijita. It hurts,” you nod, “She has no idea what she’s missing out on, Mijita. Her kids have no idea what a horrible person she truly is as fucked up as that sounds, it’s true.” He gave you a smile through the tears, “The only thing that matters is that she gave me you, my beautiful baby girl. That’s all I know of her, she gave me you and she was nothing else.”

“You don’t regret being with her?”

Pedro could never regret it, “No, because then I wouldn’t have you. I can’t imagine my life without my little girl. I’m sorry you don’t have a mom in your life, but not every girl has multiple mom figures in their lives.” It was true, you had your tia and some of your dads close friends. Your dad let go of your face, he took a hold of your wrist. “But this,” he started to say, tears welled up in his eyes again, “Oh, baby girl,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you cried.

“No, no, no,” he pulled you in for a quick embrace, before letting go, “we’re going to work on this together okay?” You nod, “I can help, we’ll make more appointments with your therapists, we’ll find healthy alternatives, and we’ll overcome this.” He choked back a sob, “but I never want to see you harming yourself again, please promise me that?” You remained silent.

You weren’t sure if you could promise it, mostly because you were addicted to the way it made you feel. “Prometeme, Y/N.” (Promise me)

“I-I’ll try,” you finally said. Pedro didn’t want to push it, if trying was what he could get, then it was enough for him. He could work with trying. Trying meant putting the effort and it meant to him that you still wanted to live.

“Trying is all I need,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Know that you have people that love you.”

You looked up at your dad in realization, you never realized how much it could impact your dad. How self harm was always correlated with darker actions. Darker actions that your father had a past with. This time, you pulled him into an embrace, “you won’t lose me,” you said. “I can promise you that.”

He let out a relieved sigh, “we’ll have to talk about the food on your desk too.”

“I’m sorry,” you began. “I just-”

“No, I know.” You didn’t have to say more, he knew what it was like. To be too much in your mind to even eat. He understood, “let’s get you something to eat, hmm?”

You nod, watching as he got up from the bed, “I love you, papi.”

“I love you too, Mija,” he gave you a small smile. You got up from the bed, following him into the kitchen. He ordered you your favorite take out, once the food had arrived you both took the food to the living room.

Pedro glanced over at your wrist from time to time, his heart sank every time, but he was going to get you better help. Over time, the cuts will heal and they’ll just be white little memories of the battles you’ve dealt with, but Pedro knew he never wanted you to feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. From here on out, he was going to try his hardest to make sure you were your healthiest, physically and mentally.

He placed a small kiss on your temple, “love you,” he said softly.

You gave him a smile, “Love you too, dad,” you said, focusing your attention back on the television. You both knew the journey from here on out wasn’t going to be easy, it wasn’t said aloud, but it was like a silent acknowledgment. But eventually, it’ll be okay because pain was just temporary.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnookok @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @twkobii

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#pedro pascal x daughter!reader #pedro pascal x daughter #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal daddy #pedro pascal x teen #pedro pascal x teen!reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x daughter teen #pedro pascal request #pedro pascal teen!reader #pedro pascal x teen reader #pedro pascal x daughter reader

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quintessencewrites · 1 year

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Quintessence Writes

essence 23 pansexual Welcome, Lovelies <3!

This blog is full of original stories, random reposts, and mindless thoughts. I write about what I like. Fanfic is a creative outlet for me that I enjoy beyond words and I don't see myself stopping anytime soon.

Feel free to stay a while, get comfortable, talk to me, and become one of my loves

Rules: I do write smut, so this blog is 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS, DNI!!!!

I write about characters, not real people. For example, I will write for Shuri and Jamie, but not Letitia Wright herself. I'm just not comfortable with it.

I admittedly mostly write for Shuri and Riri, unless otherwise stated, but I will absolutely write for someone else if you guys have any suggestions.

I AM A BLACK WOMAN WHO LOVES BLACK WOMEN (and they/thems, she hers/, he/his, I don't care really)... I write for POC readers, unless otherwise stated.

I do take requests and try my best to respond to them in a timely manner, HOWEVER, I am a nursing student with a full-time job. With that being said, just bear with me, your requested story is coming.

I WILL NOT WRITE ABOUT DISTURBING TOPICS, for example, (TW!!), incest, domestic violence, sexual assault, etc.

There is no hate on my little side of the internet, so be nice and just enjoy so everyone can have fun

ShuRiri x OC (Sade Davis) Series

*REWRITE IN PROGRESS*

Put Me in My Place Riri Williams x OC (Sade Davis)

I feel my body tense, realizing I’m in the arms of my biggest competition throughout high school. I try to pull away, but Riri holds me tighter. “Please,” she starts. “Don’t go.”

You Up? Riri Williams x OC (Sade Davis)

“I told you to take it off. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Sorry For Breaking Your Hearts Riri Williams x OC (Sade Davis)

“No, no, please! My girlfriend, I-I haven’t seen her all day, I haven’t heard from her. I think something’s wrong.”

Two is Plenty, Three’s a Crowd ShuRiri x OC (Sade Davis)

“Sade, it is nice to meet you finally,” came the voice again, and at this point, the speaker was back on the table.

Somehow, I found my voice. “Pr-Princess Shuri.”

Ally? Ally. ShuRiri x OC (Sade Davis)

I face her and evenly reply “You drowned, huh?” Riri’s face flushes and she stammers, struggling to gather her words.

My Love, My Fury ShuRiri x OC (Sade Davis)

“What’s it say,” I ask. Shuri’s smile grows genuine and she responds, “Sade, sithandwa Sam. Sade, my love in my country’s alphabet.”

Breathe ShuRiri x OC (Sade Davis)

"It's like deja vu, isn't it baby?" Riri questions giddily, arms thrown around my neck.

Vanish-Giveon

Vanish ShuRiri x reader

"Nisale kakuhle zinkosi zenu (Goodbye, your majesties.)” You bow and exit, leaving the Queens in their despair.

Vanish pt. 2 ShuRiri x reader

“Aneka, you will lead this mission.

General,” the word comes off her tongue like a tease, knowing she’s driving a spear through Okoye’s heart. “Fall back.”

Yes, Daddy

Y-yes, Daddy stud!ShuRiri x black!fem!reader

“I’m daddy,” Shuri growls and you sink into her body, melting at her vernacular. “Understand, baby?”

You make the mistake of nodding first, catching yourself quickly. “Yes,” you correct.

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, daddy.”

Y-yes, Daddy pt. 2 stud!ShuRiri x black!fem!reader

Hmm, Shuri hums. “You look so damn good walking away, y/n, but that don’t mean I like it when you walk away from me. You wanna explain that shit?”

Escapism Shuri x Riri Shuri brought her hand up between their too-close bodies, tapping at Riri’s chin, then her cheeks. “Alright, alright. You’ve proven yourself. Breathe before you pass out.”

Y-yes, Daddy pt. 3 stud!ShuRiri x black!fem!reader

Her eyes sent the message that her lips didn’t; they couldn’t, too busy being bitten to the flesh between Riri’s perfect rows of teeth, the gold on her lower set mirroring the gold around her neck.

Jordan Peele’s Nope.-Emerald Haywood

What’s Up, Doc? Emerald Haywood x reader

"You see a therapist?" OJ asks. "I fuck one," Emerald responds dismissively.

Desire

Desire Pt. 1 Shuri x Stripper!reader

"Ladies and Gents, we got a treat for yall tonight! So much cake, it'll make you want to lick the icing first."

"Please help me in welcoming Desire to the stage!"

Desire Pt. 2 Shuri x Stripper!reader

“Ndiyakunqwenela.”

“I desire you.”

“Kudala ndikurhalela.”

“I-I’ve been craving you"

SOS-SZA

Nobody Gets Me Riri Williams x fwb!reader

How am I supposed to tell ya?

I don't wanna see you with anyone but me

Nobody gets me like you

Happy Valentine's Day

Riri's Love Letter Riri x black!fem!reader

Do you remember what I said to you?

I know you remember that corny ass pickup line.

“Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?”

Little Panther

Little Panther Shuri x black!fem!reader

And collect my son I do, adorning his little fluffy figure in kisses. "None for me?" Shuri pouts, eyes begging.

"Uh, uh. You told me to collect my son, not my girl."

Brain-Break

Brain-Break ShuRiri x Wakandan!fem!reader

“No, my Queen. If you will not indulge my idea for a moment to give you peace, then you will, at the very least, not work in such silence that you stress yourself anymore. Understood?”

Riri stifles a giggle at your words, sending Shuri to return to her work obediently, grumbling under her breath as she did. “-going to speak to me like that in my own lab.”

She Loves Me-Valkyrie

She Loves Me Shuri x reader; Valkyrie x reader

She loves me. Even though whenever I say it, she doesn't say it back.

Heavy is The Head-Queen Ramonda Heavy is the Head Queen Ramonda x Wakandan!reader

The nonchalant shrug makes a return. "She said I'm not a doll."

Your hands raked through her tight curls, expertly. "You're my doll."

Save Her

Save Her ShuRiri x Wakandan!reader

“Griot,” she started slowly. “Who is piloting Fighter 009?”

“Y/n, Your Majesty.”

Finally

Finally ShuRiri x black!fem!reader

“Remember that promise I made you?”

Riri nods, hands running through Shuri’s curls, lips tucked between her teeth in excitement.

“I’m ready to act on it.”

My Princess

My Princess Shuri x black!fem!plus size!reader

“You heard her,” she started to the stunned girl on the other end. “So we good on whatever shit you was trying to offer her. It ain’t nothing compared to what I got.”

King-Queen Ramonda

King Queen! Ramonda x King!reader

“Your Highness-” “King. Do not be afraid to say it.”

I'm IronHeart

I'm IronHeart college student! Riri x college student!fem!black! reader

“You gon stop fucking up my pretty face-” “You only like it when its pretty?” A smile broke across both your faces, her shiny rows of perfectly white teeth winking at you from between the prettiest brown lips you’d ever seen. “It’s always pretty,” you ran your fingers down her cheeks once more.

Mama Shuri

Unyana Mama!Shuri x Mommy!reader

"Shuri, put your child to bed," you exclaim, bouncing down the stairs.

"Huh?"

Man-Man

Man-Man drug dealer!ShuRiri x black!fem!single mom!reader

“Hey, baby,” your soft voice cooed. You had his undivided attention and his wide eyes followed the index finger of your free hand as you gestured to the girls standing above him.

Pernicious

Pernicious toxic!Shuri x reader; OC x reader

“Nah, baby, just getting a taste. “Fuck y-” “I told you, you can’t do this shit better than me.”

Lil Hobie- Hobie Brown

Lil Hobie atsv Hobie x thick!black!fem!reader

“God dammit, Hobie!” “‘Hobie dammit, Hobie’ is kinda a redundant statement, love, don’t ya-”

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foolishlovers · 5 months

Text

SOCIAL MEDIA AUs: Below you'll find a list of Good Omens fics that contain elements of social media such as Instagram, Youtube & Co.

You can request more fic recs here.

twitter cryptids by doctormissy (T, 36k)

Crowley's latest brilliant idea involves ranting about his undying love tiny crush on Aziraphale on Twitter instead of actually dealing with his feelings now that the world didn't end. Because he will never find out, right? Right?

Press L in the Chat (for Love) by Djapchan, Phoenix_Soar (E, 29k)

Bickering fan-content creators Aziraphale and Crowley only have three things in common — they are both avid fans of a new revolutionary TV series about pirates, they are popular for their fantastic fanfiction and fanart… and they are members of the same discord server. Neither of them likes the other, but across the chaotic virtual world of a discord chatroom, who knows what can happen when these two unlikely fans are paired up for an exciting collaboration? Us. We know ;) Discord Server AU — a collaboration between Phoenix_Soar (fic) and Djapchan (multivoice podfic organization & editing) for Pod-Together 2022

Angelic Whispers by AppleSeeds (T, 20k)

Crowley runs a very popular ASMR YouTube channel, but is considering applying for a job at a real life ASMR spa. He books an appointment as a client to try out the experience for himself, but becomes completely flustered when he meets the ridiculously gorgeous ASMR therapist, Aziraphale, who will be spending the next hour giving him unrelenting personal attention.

No Picture Can Express by nutmeag83 (T, 12k)

Ezra Fell prefers books (and discretely watching the lovely florist down the street) to social media, but takes up the hobby at Madame Tracy's urging. Anthony Crowley has been pining after his neighbor for ages, happy to keep his distance until Ezra asks him to tutor him in using Instagram. They find they have more in common than just having shops on the same block in Soho.

your smile speaks books to me by laiqualaurelote (T, 5k)

Aziraphale's bookshop becomes accidentally famous on Instagram, to his great distress. Since Crowley invented Instagram, it's also his problem.

it's a new craze by attheborder (T, 5k)

CROWLEY: I try not to make a habit of gratitude, but I must give our appreciation to everyone out there who’s been listening and subscribing to The Ineffable Plan. AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, yes, we’ve become quite popular, haven’t we? CROWLEY: Yeah, just hit number eight on the advice charts … No advertising at all. AZIRAPHALE: Mm. How … miraculous. CROWLEY: … Aziraphale. You did not. *** Crowley and Aziraphale are very possibly the people least qualified, on the entire planet, to start up an advice podcast. But what else is there to do when the world isn’t ending anytime soon, you’re technically on indefinite sabbatical from your lifelong careers, and you need a plausible excuse to spend more time with your best friend who you’re definitely not, absolutely not, maybe just a little, actually maybe overwhelmingly in love with?

You've Got Kudos by curtaincall (M, 4k)

Aziraphale and Crowley both write fanfiction. As it happens, they both write Good Omens fanfiction. Of course, neither of them would ever admit this to the other. (A love story told primarily in AO3 comments)

London Book Shop Recommendations? by nothankyoudear (G, 3k)

A.Z. Fell and Co. is recommended as a local London bookshop on a Reddit post. Chaos ensues when someone actually takes the recommendation and goes there, only to find that: 1. They don't get to buy books 2. The gentle bookshop owner apparently owns a giant python And 3. The bookshop owner is 100% in love with his best friend with the sunglasses OR Ineffable Husbands told through Reddit posts.

Parsley, Thyme, Sage, Daffodils by MostWeakHamlets (G, 3k)

Aziraphale has a cooking show on the internet. It started out with three viewers, but now he's known as the happy grandfather that blew up overnight. Crowley occasionally makes cameos, has dedicated his garden to giving Aziraphale fresh herbs and vegetables, and struggles with living after the apocalypse. _ “Taste this, my dear,” Aziraphale said. He held a spoonful of jam to Crowley’s lips with his free hand cautiously under it, ready to catch any dripping. Crowley leaned forward to wrap his lips around the spoon. Most likely his shyness came from the small tender moments Aziraphale was not afraid of showing the world. It had been the topic of many long conversations after Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in St. James Park, causing Crowley to freeze and break out in a cold sweat. Being discreet had always been their top priority. For 6,000 years, someone would have surely seen them if they embraced in the middle of London. But now, Aziraphale had assured Crowley, things were different. They no longer needed to hide, but Aziraphale would go as slow as Crowley needed him to. It was almost funny how their roles had switched after the apocalypse.

Crowley Invented Youtube Recommended (Parsley, Thyme, Sage, Daffodils remix) by flibbertygigget (T, 1.9k)

After Aziraphale's video on crêpes makes it into Youtube recommendations through a little demonic intervention, he quickly goes viral. Cue college students just trying to make it work, a bunch of young queers who see A.Z. Fell and his husband Anthony as "goals," and quite a few comments from one Newton Pulsifer.

Get Connected by AgentStannerShipper (G, 1k)

Crowley signs Aziraphale up for social media. Even if it's a slightly outdated one.

#reblogs appreciated <3 and come talk to me if you've read one of these!!#good omens #good omens fic rec #good omens fic #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #social media au #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

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crazylittlejester · 9 days

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heyo, was reading through your blog like the morning news paper or something, and got to your post about your food anxiety and i just. people told you to get over yourself. and my vision has gone red as i furiously scroll up to send this ask because MY GOD the medical world is so often a shitshow. what therapist worth their frickin salt?? would say get over it?? like hello babes you are the professional who is here to teach me skills to cope??? so maybe?!? do that?? GOD i had a friend who refused to go to therapy for so long cuz they had too many shitty ones but they Finally found one that listens to them and its been SO helpful for them. and it just throws me into an absolute rage thinking of the people who arent getting the help they need because too many douche nozzles got to be therapists. just. AGH. vibrating in my chair with rage. i got so lucky with my therapist being very good but if she hadnt i cannot imagine how my life would be, with my anxiety the way it was i would have internalized that shit so hard.

*cough* anyways sorry that was. a lot. but i just /needed/ to say something before i exploded. no matter how “ridiculous” emotions may seem, they are real and therefore valid and THEREFORE must be treated seriously by yourself and others. *grabs you by the shoulders and gently shakes* you are VALID AND SO ARE YOUR EMOTIONS AND YOU ARE LOVED. okay i gotta go calm down now. take care of yourself.

Having a good therapist is so important, and unfortunately myself and so many others have just never gotten that experience. I haven’t had time to look for a new one since my last one just abandoned me randomly at the start of the school year because they were like “nah king I don’t wanna see you anymore, good luck tho 🫶” and did not offer to transfer me to anyone else 😭 (Dw, I think it’s funny now. But it does break my heart that I’m not the only one this has happened to)

A bunch of internet strangers validating my feelings more over the past 24 hours than mental health professionals have ever done for me my entire life has been absolutely wild, but like, thank you for the support. It seriously means a lot, and I don’t even know what to say. I went from having no one understand to like 10 people sharing they have a similar experience and many many more offering support and I like don’t know what do to with myself 😭

Anyways, I love all of you guys and all the really nice things everyone has said to me. It seriously has meant a lot 🫶

#jes talks #jes ask #jes rambles

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kinocomix · 2 months

Text

devlog 17: things my therapist told me

the script for TSTW is still coming along. the first couple of scenes are the most sensitive ones because they effectively have to hook the reader when little has happened in the story, so I can confidently say that those 8 scenes have been polished enough that I don’t have to worry about them anymore. Now, the main plot begins.

here’s the soundtrack for the rest of this devlog:

youtube

I don’t think there could ever be a fully professional way to talk about the things that heavily affected you as a kid. As an adult, I had to wrestle with the fact that there’s never really a good time to talk about feelings and be happy. There’s always someone in the world suffering more than you, someone dying and something terrible happening to the children of a country being genocided by zionism (free palestine).

Today I’m going to talk about the themes at play in “The criminal mastermind’s pocket diary”, the project I’m working on while writing the script for my other comic, which is coming along well. While a lot of what I’m going to talk about will pale in comparison to the suffering of others in the world, I find it valuable to remember that in order to fight the dragons that plague the world we must confront and quell the evil within each and every one of us.

With that in mind, one thing I haven’t mentioned about the central point of killouette is that in more than one way, her experience is very much my own. Growing up in Beyrouth it seemed like there was one of three options: you’re either born with money in which case your safety can be bought via being in safer areas and schools, or you’re in a middle/lower class area where you’re stuck with the other two choices. One is to pass the time on the street and acquire the culture thereof, the other is to be an indoor kid. My parents, who had good intentions, decided that the best course of action to not have me become a thug was to never let me leave the house except to go to school or family outings. Combine that with a poor financial situation and a tiny house, it meant that growing up I didn’t have the internet, and could rarely take up the space required to do activities. Doing something as simple as reading a book was complicated because most of our books were stored in the sofas which were designed to maximize what we could do in our tiny house. It doesn’t end there, you see my mother has always been a clean freak, so she valued tidiness over most other things. Now imagine all that for a second. An understimulated child, often told they’re “gifted” who could never explore the world or do many things inside either. you can see how that’s a recipe for someone with the personality of a blank sheet of printer paper.

It’s not all doom and gloom though. I still had some fun because I, in addition to being cursed with the gifted label, had an overactive imagination. So the underside of beds became forts, and broken appliances became experiments. The few friends I had at school became a window into the outside… I eventually became a normal human being but there’s something about that entire period in my life that made me feel very bitter towards my parents. Why were you throwing your anxieties onto me? Why couldn’t I just join the scouts? Why couldn’t I stay over at a friend’s house for longer than two hours? Looking back at all of that having gone to therapy I’m thankful for it. I don’t think I would have fallen madly in love with the craft of comics had it not been for me overcompensating for all those missed years. Part of me really wants to heal that inner kid in my head who still wishes for some adventure though. That’s killouette.

Killouette’s parents are much like mine. Not evil, just a little overprotective. Projecting just enough that it’ll seep into killouette’s behavior as an adult. But now, as a kid, I’m giving her something that I wished I had when I was a child: privacy and space. Killouette has her own room and her parents don’t feel the need to constantly police her as long as she’s in there. That might not seem like much, but I think that would be enough for a smart kid to do some pretty amazing things.

you may have also noticed that Killouette doesn’t have any noteworthy character flaws, and it should be obvious at this point that the goal of me making this is in part to empower her. With that being said I am fully aware that while my experience is relatively common, it’s far from universal. This is why the cast is so varied: each child represents to some extent a different way of growing up. I can’t do them all sadly, but I think the grounds will be covered pretty well with what we have.

there’s also other kids to consider, so I have some things I want to explore with them as well. I don’t want to spoil too much but here’s a quick fire round: Talbas has anger issues because of neglect and video games. bata has well meaning parents but the constant taunting and threats of being sent to far away places cause anxiety in the way she acts. motsik has the most ass, dogshit parents. 0/10 not having a good time. abuse central, destination anywhere else. falefil is spoiled and his parents haven’t taught him certain things about respect and money. that tends to influence his behavior. zmik is the closest to killouette, except he is a version of her closer to me allowed to leave the house. he’s included in the cast partially as a way for me to extent empathy to a younger me, but also for anyone who might be going through something similar to what i did as a kid. lastly there’s claude. claude is for all intents and purposes, if we were to put her in a realistic framework, some weird mish mash of immigrant and orphan child genius. i imagine claude would experience some alienation from some people, but i’m not worried about the story getting sidetracked since her friends have her back and the adults in the story are losers anyways.

On a more general note, I’ve been noticing how my approach to writing has been evolving to suit whatever project I'm currently working on. It was weird at first cause I thought a writing technique is something that you’re just stuck with. With prior comics for example the main concern was always “how do I portray what’s happening in the most raw way possible” whereas with TSTW it’s more “let’s try to be more efficient with the framing of the ideas, as long as it feels right”. With Killouette, it’s not about showing things in the most realistic way possible because if that was the case, for starters this amount of genius kids would not be two buildings apart in some suburb in beyrouth and killouette would not be able to hide the amount of things she does. but that’s not the point. a bunch of what happens in the story could happen with real kids in real life, and the point of the book is to capture a young sense of ambition and wonder. the type of mischief that leaves you laughing and being impressed instead of wondering what’s happening in the world. I’m not here to tell you about kids committing actual awful actions, I'm here to show you kids having a good time despite it all. that nothing can stop life and the desire for it.

If the kids of Palestine can still find it in them to laugh and have fun, the least I can do is have some imaginary abused kids triumph over their circumstances.

next week, we’ll be improvising some doodads and seeing how we can recycle previous unused work.

devlog updates on Tuesdays.

#comic #webcomic #kinocomix #devlog #journal comic #Youtube

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sickandinlove04 · 21 days

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Ok just want to write out my thoughts and if anyone relates or understands that is great. I was talking to my psychiatrist one day about how I sometimes feel the need to do certain things specifically with my face sometimes (scrunch my nose, stretch my face muscles, make a whistling noise between my teeth). It goes through phases and is worse when my anxiety is worse. She mentioned something about OCD. I have thought about it briefly since I pick at my nails so much and it feels more compulsive and obsessive like dermatillomania (which is as originally only listed under OCD because of the obsessive and compulsive traits it has, now it’s also a body focused repetitive behavior if I remember correctly). Other than that though I never gave it much thought. So I wandered on to the internet to learn more because it piqued my interest. I know OCD is more than organizing and cleaning but I wanted to learn more specifics, not to self diagnose but to try and understand how my brain could be working. I found something called mental contamination which was really interesting. It is basically you feel dirty even though you haven’t actually touched or done anything that would make you dirty. The thing I saw talked about feeling dirty because of someone else’s touch. It made me think about a few things. Mainly it made me think about how much I dislike being close to people and being touched. Some people I feel uncomfortable because it makes me feel dirty from being close to them (I don’t actually think they’re gross or dirty it’s like an intrusive thought, like what are you doing here thought go away). Most people though I feel like if they get too close they’re going to see me how I saw myself when I was younger, and sometimes still do; a disgusting monster that is unlovable. I’m afraid that when they get close they will think I’m gross and disgusting. A boy once told me in high school that I smelled bad. Thinking back it was a summer football practice (I was a manager) so he was probably smelling himself or the fifty other sweating dudes around. On top of the self hatred and anxiety that followed that, I have hyperhidrosis. So I physically felt disgusting from that and my health problems that make me nauseous. I spent many years feeling nauseous to the point where I was in the bathroom crying and missed many classes. Feeling nauseous just feels icky and it translated into me feeling like I am disgusting; like that icky feeling inside is showing outside.

I don’t know what the point of this post is except to ramble my thoughts “out loud”. Probably should find a new therapist but I’m doing okay mostly lol.

#tw ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #actually ocd #depression #anxiety #thinking #mental illness #mental health #mentally unstable #therapy #unlovable #tw vent #tw depressing thoughts #ramblings #dermatillomania #psychology #psychiatry

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dasy002 · 2 years

Text

SHUTTERED HEART 2

Main masterlist| Actor masterlist

Past Scarlett Johansson x fem!reader

Present Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Warnings: angst (?), some bad words, I pretended reader wrote some famous songs but all the rights go to the real authors!!

Songs: "Happier than ever" Billie Eilish | "Cherophobia" Martina Antilli | "Lost cause" Billie Eilish

This is a part two of the previous story. The idea was given to me by an amazing girl on wattpad!

Love ya all

Daisy 💜

It’s been years since the day Scarlett left your house stepping on your heart. And you haven’t been doing well.

If earlier going out drinking and fucking random girls in bars was a once a week thing, now it became a routine. Going to clubs, getting drunk as fuck, having sex with some chicks, sleeping till noon and then starting over again.

That’s when the press started to notice, and that’s why you hate being a famous singer. Everyone always finds out what you’re doing, no secrets. The first pics started to appear on the cover pages of the magazines, they pictured you smoking weed, drinking and making out with strangers. They started calling you whore, slut, drug addict and more. At that point you had hit rock bottom, you weren’t even able to do music anymore.

That’s when your mother suggested you go away for a while. “Knowing she’s far away from you, will make you feel better (y/n/n).” she said as you walked past the airport’s gate.

Everyone says new home, new life. Well that didn’t apply to you, at least not in the first few months. Your routine didn’t change at all, until one day walking down Sunset Boulevard you saw a young boy sitting on a paper box while playing the guitar. At this point, while the music flies in the hot hair of Los Angeles,you feel a void start growing inside of you. You missed singing, the hard wood of the guitar under your fingers, the vibrations of the strings as you pinch them.

That’s when you decided you wanted to change and you were ready to ask for help. You wanted your life back

In the meantime Scarlett went on with her life, or at least that’s what she told herself. For how much she tried she couldn’t take you out of her mind. The pain in your eyes, the tears and your outburst still hunted her dreams after years. How did she end up hurting you so much when avoiding it was all she cared about and the reason why she ended things between you two? She couldn’t find an answer.

When your not so healthy lifestyle appeared all over the internet and magazines things started getting worse, cause she knew it was all her fault. She wanted to go visit you and try to help you move on, but then she would find herself wondering ‘Is it really a good idea or will I make her suffer more?’

Well by the time she decided you had already flown all the way to sunny California.

Then there was Rose. Gosh this little girl missed you like crazy, but her mom had not the guts to tell her you were gone forever. So her answers were always the same “(y/n) is really busy little bean. I’m sorry.” or “She’s not in town right now Rosie.”

Anyway, whatever excuses Scarlett puts up for her daughter she couldn’t bear the sadness in the kids eyes. It broke her heart day after day, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell her the truth , cause Rose would have ended up hating her for sending her ‘mama’ away.

In the end it was her fault.

TIME SKIP 4 MONTHS LATER (Cause I can)

Therapy isn’t as stupid as you’ve thought, it’s actually bringing you somewhere. It’s still too early to say you’re as good as new and ready to start again, but you’re working on it.

You’ve started understanding that you live for no one, but for yourself. That’s what you and Scarlett had was amazing, yeah, but you can’t go on remaining clinging to the past cause you’re afraid of what will happen in the future

And with that said you’ve started writing songs again. Addison (not me in love with Addison Montgomery in grey’s), your therapist, told you that expressing everything you’ve felt and are still feeling, in the form of music, helps to metabolize everything.

And she was right. The more songs you write the more you can look back at things in an objective way and let them go.

“When I’m away from you

I’m happier than ever

Wish I could explain it better.”

It took you time to admit it, and probably this is the hardest song you ever wrote, but as soon as you said it out loud for the first time you felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your chest.

You’re better without her, You’re happy away from her. And you don’t know why it took you so long to admit it.

TIME SKIP 2 MONTHS LATER (Cause I can)

So everything was going good, you were writing music again, you were clean both from alcohol and from weed. You even met a cute redhead (I’m obsessed with red haired girls) on the beach and went on a few dates with her.

So yeah, everything was going good until it wasn’t.

You don’t even know when it started to go south again. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even have time to realize it. One day you were happy, the next one you were afraid of this happiness.

“Come te la spiego la paura di essere felici

Quando non l’hanno capita nemmeno i miei amici”

(How do I explain you the fear of being happy

When not even my friends have understood it)

“It's hard to explain!” That's what you say to Addison when she asks you what’s wrong. And you’re not lying. You don’t know how to explain it , cause it doesn’t even make sense to you. It’s like a voice inside of your brain, everytime you almost reach happiness, whisper “You don’t deserve it.” and you believe it.

“Come te la spiego la spiego tutta la pazienza

Che ci metto ma non riesco a vivere senza

Qualcosa che mi opprime

Che mi indichi la fine

Perchè ho un cervello che è strafatto di spine."

(How do I explain to you all the patience

That I put into it but I can’t live without

Something that oppresses me

That shows me the end

Cause my brain is stoned with thorns)

And you tried, God knows how much you tried to fight it in the beginning. But then you start growing tired and this feeling of constant fear of being happy starts to feel good. ‘If I’m not happy, I can’t get hurt again.’ that’s what you say to yourself every time a part of you try to look for an ounce of happiness.

“Questa è la mia Cherofobia

No, non è negatività

Questa è la mia Cherofobia

Fa paura la felicità

Questa è la mia Cherofobia

Ma tu, resta…”

(This is my Cherophobia

No, it’s not negativity

This is my Cherophobia

Happiness scares me

This is my Cherophobia

But you, stay…)

All of your friends, old or new, it doesn't matter, start to leave. They don’t understand you, for them you’re just being exaggerated, fake. And they don’t want a friend that would slow them or stop them from doing what they want. So one by one starts to leave you behind.

Only one sticks by your side, Elizabeth Olsen. She’s such a sweetheart, she never leaves your side and helps you fight the voices in your head.

And the rest is history.

TIME SKIP 1 YEAR LATER (Cause I can)

“You ain’t nothin’ but a lost cause

And this ain’t nothin’ like it once was”

That’s the lyric of your last song that keeps repeating in your mind, as you walk hand in hand with your girlfriend Lizzie in Central Park.

Yes, you’re back in New York, but only for a couple of weeks. You accompanied Elizabeth on her press tour for her new movie ''Doctor Strange 2” (I’m in love with villain Wanda guys).

And yes, you and Lizzie got together in the end. It took you a while to definitely get over Scarlett, Elizabeth was there by your side and in the end you find yourself being madly in love with her.

You two are chatting about where to go for dinner tonight when you see a very familiar face sitting on a bench. You look at Lizzie strangely calm and point to her where Scarlett was sitting, she looks at you and asks “You wanna go talk to her or we run away like two crazy girls?”. You love how she always tries to make you laugh when you have to face something that freaks you out. You found it cute. You shake your head smiling and answer “I guess we can just walk away like two normal people, Liz.” “But we aren’t normal, kitten…” she adds while smirking at you, and in that moment you know something crazy has just come up to her mind. She grabs your hand and starts running round the park dragging you behind her, as she giggles so loud that all the pigeons fly away and half of the park turns to look at you. But you don’t care as you pull her arm lightly, making her almost fall over you before connecting your lips in a messy kiss.

At the hearing of loud giggles and the rustle of wings, she takes her eyes away from her book and starts looking for the source of all this mess. And that’s when she sees you, lips locked with her ex co star Elizabeth and a dumb smile on your face. She remembers that smile, it’s the one you make whenever you are truly happy, and seeing you smiling for something that it wasn’t her hurt. But she doesn’t have the right to feel betrayed, in the end it was all her fault.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a lost cause

And this ain’t notin’ like it once was.”

#writing #marvel girl #marvel #marvel actress #marvel actors #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #celebrity x reader #fem reader

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bisluthq · 2 months

Note

Something I don’t like about the internet is that everyone seems to think that every single person should support you through your mental health struggles. It’s a nice thing to do and people who love you do usually stay by your side, but it can get to a point where you’re affecting their mental health and it’s fair and healthy for them to leave. So much of the discourse around Joe and Taylor seems to be that he didn’t support her based on the line “I know my pain is such an imposition”. But it’s totally fair if he can’t deal with it.

I would also like to add that, in my opinion, everything she says in that song (that line but also “I wouldn’t marry me either”) is what she thinks he’s thinking, not necessarily how he actually felt. It doesn’t sound like he said that to her, but whatever he did (or didn’t do) made her feel like her pain was an imposition and like he didn’t want to marry her, whether that’s true or not.

so I’ve been going to couples therapy (second time today, we’re doing a course of 5 and will then see) and she has a few things she’s said - she’s super great - that really stuck out to me. One of them is that we all have our own story and a lot of the time our story is informed by what we’re thinking and our pasts and shit and has fuck all to do with what our partner (or really anyone we have relationships with - broadest sense) is thinking. That’s been really powerful for us because we’ll say something to each other in the session and she interrupts like “so that’s the story you're (me for example) telling, what’s the story you (him for example) hear?” And like a lot of the time it’s vastly different stuff. With Taylor, I think the stories she tells herself are very powerful because the stories she tells us are lol and that’s a watered down version of what she’s thinking and feeling and believing. But they’re HER stories. And I think I’ve always been saying that but I’ve become more aware of it in this therapy bout right because I’ve never done a couples thing before and so I’ve pretty much always told my story only.

like to give a random example right one of the issues we’re dealing with in therapy is my tendency to binge drink and that’s something I’m dealing with on my own time also but some of the stuff he’s upset about didn’t make any sense to me when he got mad originally (which is why we’re in therapy now). For example, one time we were out with friends and he wanted to go home and I didn’t and he said “I’m cold, let’s go” and I said “I’ve still got half a glass of wine left”. What I meant is “I want to stay at this restaurant longer, I’m still having fun” and what he heard - because of his own cockroaches in his head and like his alcoholic SIL and BIL and actually his ex wife and shit - is “I’m prioritizing alcohol over you and your comfort because I want to keep drinking.” That genuinely wasn’t what I meant, but it’s what he heard and that’s valid right like because we all hear different shit. We all have these things right and our stories and whatnot. We only EVER hear Taylor’s story on her lyrics and that’s FINE but it’s not the absolute truth because there’s no such thing? Like in real life personal relationships there’s no objective single truth?

the other thing the therapist talks about a lot is how every relationship requires a lot of work. people all come into the relationship with their own baggage and preconceptions and ideas around shit and even if you don’t fight or talk about it, resentment grows. My bf and I do fight lol that’s why we’re in therapy and she says conflict is an opportunity to resolve that stuff instead of letting it fester and yeah I mean that’s why we went to therapy. I’ve been in prior relationships where there was no fighting but a GREAT deal of resentment on my side and no opportunities for growth or fixing it idk. To me, YLM sounds like that kind of relationship. “How can you say you love someone you can’t tell is dying” idk dude because you haven’t told him and he’s not a mind reader? And I say that with 0 judgment but like that’s legit a problem.

finally I think Swifties need to realize Taylor’s partners have their own stuff going on and like no they can’t just orbit around Taylor. That wouldn’t be healthy at all? You can’t exist in a happy relationship purely to satisfy your partner like you both need to do shit idk.

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eddieydewr · 3 months

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I believe the blind item because it makes sense let me explain. Each cast member have their pr teams and managers and they have their own thing, it’s possible their managers or teams told them specifically to distance themselves. This might explain Noah’s recent deleting of his social media posts on all platforms including taking away his YouTube this might’ve been him frustrated and alone doing all of this. Hiring a therapist on set for him seems real as well.

This is just awful regardless if this is true. Ostracizing the kid over internet hate when he needs to be in a good environment to deliver a good performance, that would just f-ck anybody up he’s a human being for Christ sakes. It’s tragic and it’s just wanting a disaster to unfold, and I wouldn’t put it past him if he did snap on set or have a mental breakdown. If this is true lord help me stranger things could f-ck off he doesn’t deserve this.

🤔🤔 i mean, i see where you’re coming from but it still doesn’t make sense, imo. it is possible that cast members were advised by their pr not to post personal photos of noah during production or for however long BUT i feel like it doesn’t apply to this situation because brett is free to do what he wants even while he’s filming, and no one is being told to distance themselves from him outside of work. i know noah has a much bigger role but, idk how this sort of stuff works, i’d say noah would have grounds to sue for workplace discrimination? like brett is openly jewish and very politically vocal, but hey, let’s target the gay jewish kid who barely said anything instead 😭?? those zionism stickers are meaningless when brett actively visits israel during the war.

so yeah, the blind item is bullshit. it’s just someone from stan twitter creating more online ammo because it’s the current trend to tweet disparagingly about noah and constantly make death hoaxes.

if brett can go on like this, the duffers and netflix clearly don’t care. noah is being hidden for a reason and it has nothing to do with what he did. they are trying to keep spoilers under wraps 😩 like we haven’t seen most of the cast yet and it’s still early days but people are going rabid and make it all about noah. which would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic.

#like i get your thought process but it’s just not relevant fjdns #and there was someone who keeps trying to hack noah so he likely handed it all over to his team #beth answers

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crippleprophet · 1 year

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(feel free to not respond to this, hell feel free to be like “please don’t do this again”)

so i’ve had join problems for like 3 1/2 years now and they just got diagnosed like 2 week’s ago, turns out i have runners knee

so i feel bad because 1. it feels lit not as big of a deal as i feel like it is (it is a big deal, it’s impacted my life (thank you therapy))

2. i’m worried that pt and more exercise won’t make it better (i’m on my schools swim team, so 4 practices a week during the season, plus a swim meet on friday)

and 3. i feel like (at least for now) i need more support. my pt doesn’t start until february and i can’t remember the last day i haven’t been in pain or had sensations that are probably due to nerve wackiness. i have used a cane in the past and it has helped me immensely. but i feel bad for wanting something that works for both legs. i’ve literally have had 2 dreams about me having forearm crutches.

i’m just really exhausted, sorry for dumping this all on you rn, i feel like even though i was listened to i still was just told to exercise and loose weight

hey, it’s absolutely no problem & i’m so deeply sorry you’re dealing with this 💕💕

i’m gonna throw like a billion disclaimers on this that, in addition to my usual line about just being Some Guy on the internet, i am definitely responding from a place of trauma here - i don’t know your body & you are the authority on your experiences, i’m just tossing some stuff out there based on my experiences, which might be totally different in other (or underlying physical processes yadda yadda) ways. also like big tw for medical neglect

so. i ran cross country in high school and my joint pain originated in my left knee at age 16, no specific injury or incident, RICE etc barely did anything. xrays and mri showed nothing. tried cortisone shot, euflexxa injections, some sort of topical steroid that was originally used on racehorses, nothing. because i was a runner no one ever considered it could be anything but an orthopedic issue.

i had two exploratory arthroscopic surgeries (which i’ve since learned are as effective as a placebo) with extensive debridement - first dx, plica syndrome, “we have no idea why this was this bad,” cleared to run again after post-op PT, pain came back even worse after ~7 months.

second dx, grade II chondromalacia patellae aka runner’s knee. told never to run again. i knew in post-op PT that something was wrong, this wasn’t the same pain as recovery previously, it felt like the underlying issue was still there. this wasn’t pain of healing, it was making something else worse. my physical therapist didn’t believe me, just kept pushing me, literally told me once that there was no way i was in that much pain. the pattern of swelling, location & sensation of pain, nerve symptoms, etc never made sense to anyone, no matter how many people they called over to poke & prod.

i don’t think i’ll ever know why, especially when he then didn’t fucking do anything with this information, but one day he had me try a lumbar extension stretch. you know the scene in the little mermaid where she’s propping her upper body up with her arms on the rock, waves crashing behind her, triumphant music? it’s basically that pose. it was both the single most excruciating and relieving thing i’ve ever done; even my chronic migraine of 2 years lessened. but we proceeded on a normative linear recovery arc, i got cleared from PT, the pain was better but still there.

flash forward four more years of intensifying pain - first my other knee, then the bottoms of my feet, then more constant and prominent in my lower back, then my upper back & worsening of the neck pain i’d been told and believed was from looking down at books/phone, what i now know as neuropathy increasing all the while - using a cane, then forearm crutches, then a forearm rollator, then a mobility scooter, spending more & more time unable to leave the bed - and i stumbled across an article about ankylosing spondylitis that matched my history fucking eerily, right down to the car crash as a younger teenager. it turns out AS commonly first presents with knee pain, not back pain, in juveniles.

so here’s what i’m gonna tell you: even if it’s “only” chondromalacia, your pain is real and serious and you should listen to your body. and, with again the mega disclaimer that you might be experiencing something totally different, i gently suggest:

read my posts about AS. read my google doc about AS. read anybody’s posts and articles about anything that originates with knee pain, especially if it involves neuropathy.

keep tabs on your body and don’t believe anyone who tells you something is normal until you’ve investigated it for yourself. does your neck hurt? how much? how often? what about your upper spine, between your shoulders? your lower back?

try a lumbar extension stretch, just in case.

if you haven’t been to a rheumatologist before and it’s at all possible for you to do so, do it. if you have a GP and can get a blood workup from them instead, do that. more info on blood testing here - but keep in mind that negative blood work doesn’t rule anything out.

if you can get forearm crutches, one hundred thousand percent do it. make sure they’re sized properly - more info on that here.

do whatever you possibly can to shore up your trust in yourself and your experiences. surround yourself with as many people as possible, in person or online, who believe your pain and make you feel solid in your knowledge of yourself. i’m a big fan of putting up signs with reminders if you can. whether you have chondromalacia, something else, or a combination, your pain is real, it is disabling, and it is in your best interest to develop strategies to cope with the systemic gaslighting that is existing within an ableist society & medical system.

if there is literally anything at all i can do to encourage you, answer questions, etc, please feel free to dm me or send another ask any time. my whole fucking heart goes out to you - you are not the only one who’s been through this, and that is both the horror & deepest relief of chronic pain. so much love to you, may you receive everything you need.

#chondromalacia #chondromalacia patellae #runner’s knee #knee pain #knee problems #joint pain #chronic pain #ankylosing spondylitis #asks #faq #read this to my gf bc i go to her for feedback on a lot of my stuff & she said ‘this is a love letter’ which. yeah

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flynnarts · 5 months

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Transgender Feelings

Soooooooo Random a** rant here IG. I honestly have been wondering if I’m actually a Dude. Like, I’ve never wanted anything more than to have a flat chest and a flat bottom. But… I’m way too young, and I’m a little scared to try on Binders. And about the fact that I don’t look like a guy like, at all, and I feel like it’ll just inconvenience others for them to keep remembering that I’m not actually AFAB. I mean like, I know people say that remembering pronouns is just like- a really simple thing, but the smoll demon voice of insecurity is too strong. I can’t really tell my parents (They’re not Trans, just hard to talk to about this), my friends already know, but I haven’t told them about the pronouns thing yet (They’re already getting used to my new name), and I can’t tell the school therapist (For reasons… Pretty obvious ones honestly) And I hate how I look like now, and Just want to change into a guy. Like, having a female body is slay, but I wanna go to being a dude. It just… *Feels* right, if yall know what I mean. And I have been feeling this for a while, looking back, I’ve been feeling like this since… like… 7 years old. Any tips on how to deal with these kinds of thoughts/feelings? Cause right now, telling random strangers on the internet seems like a better idea rn- :D

#Rant #TransMasc egg moment #Egg moment #Am I trans?#Please advice #Give me #Too scared to try to buy binders honestly #Cause my parents will ask #Also hi #If you found this #Henlos!

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souryogurt64 · 1 year

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omg not the tyler joseph “i can’t carry the burden of being gay” or whatever it was i almost forgot about that 😭 i was very briefly very into 21p (like, up until their 3rd album came out, the really annoying one i think it was called blurry face) and their fans were just as bad if not worse with the mental health diagnoses.

i’ve seen maybe 1 or 2 recent posts about the gw mental health thing (i follow like 50 mcr blogs total and half of them haven’t been active since 2017 so i guess i don’t see as much as everyone else does) and it’s bizarre to me. maybe it’s because i work in neuro-psychological research and currently specifically on psychosis research but some of these write ups that i see on this website about psychosis are just straight up misinformation. and when u throw it on a post about gerard it makes ppl go even more insane and it’s uncomfortable to watch. also i absolutely hate any time someone tries to diagnose a celebrity (or even a character) because it does far far more harm than good, doesn’t even matter if it’s a correct dx or not. but i could go off about self/over diagnosing for hours.

SOMETHING ELSE REALLY BIZARRE ABOUT 21P BECAUSE IM ALREADY HERE. so fun fact my dad and tyler joseph’s mom went to high school together. they were really good friends but she was a year older and when she left for college they lost touch. he had pictures of the two of them together. he hates 21p music and brings it up every time it comes on the radio.

(Sorry to hijack what you said and only respond to one part of it haha, I don't want to open up The Bearer of the Gay Burden lmao, this is just an interesting topic I want to trauma dump on)

Yeah I think the internet has done a lot of damage to how people view therapy/medication/diagnoses. I was seeing therapists/ psychologists from 3-21, have been medicated since age 7, still regularly see a psychiatrist, and I was also taken to the hospital in a cop car (lmfao) as a teen so like mental health and doctors and stuff is something I'm very familiar with.

The number of times I have had someone very assertively tell me I'm faking having ADHD and the doctors I've seen my whole life are "wrong" because of my grades or ability to hold employment or clean my room is honestly jarring. Usually these are people who self diagnosed based off things they saw online and then had to see several doctors before they could get a diagnosis and medication, or people who have not received an official diagnosis at all. There can be a lot of barriers to seeing a doctor so whatever if you're looking into coping mechanisms or how to get tested for something but like. You are not a doctor because Twitter told you liking Steven Universe is a symptom of ADHD and depression and its unnerving you believe that so sincerely

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joeywheelermyman · 1 year

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Second Prison Text

This one is super short. And I have some words at the end. I was surprised by how easily tears came to my eyes. I didn’t plan on crying, it just happened. I haven’t cried since my birthday last year, yesterday was the first time in four months. Everyone is starting to quit caring about [friend’s name], if they haven’t already. How unfair that is. Rydina told me “Nathaniel really misses you.” And I really didn’t expect that. It was so great to hear them, almost the whole group. Everyone was so happy, it was like old time. For context, I wrote this on the day of the Superbowl, I called a friend and they were with the rest of my little group and I got a chance to speak to all of them. But anyways, I’m surprised by the amount of negative replies I got from my original post. I thought people would be more understanding, but this is the internet, right? So fuck ‘em. I thank everyone that said something super nice and positive. They were reassuring to find scattered throughout the negativity. I plan on continuing my posts as I think sharing them, several of which, by the way, turn to things other than my life at the time and just become whimsical writings, will help me feel better about talking about it. I began seeing a therapist a little while ago for those who recommended it. Also someone brought up a point that I should have put a trigger warning on my post and I would like to apologize for not doing so. I’ll make sure to do that on any future papers that contain information about it. In parting, I would like to add that anyone who does not like the fact that I am sharing what happened to me and the things I went through, you don’t have to read what I post. I got a lot of people saying I shouldn’t have blazed it and I want to apologize for that, too. I have no idea how Tumblr works, just the reputation behind it. I won’t be doing that in the future. I had the exact amount of money in my bank account that the price was and I thought it was a sign from The Universe that I should share my papers. I’m also thinking about changing the names of people in the papers to respect their privacy and safety.

#bullshit #iguess

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the-ethereal-lorestar · 2 years

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Writeblr Intro

I already have a writing Tumblr account, but it’s mixed together with art and other stuff, but it’s not centered on a Writeblr account. My brain refuses to acknowledge things that aren’t cut and dry, so I made a whole new Tumblr account focused around the Writeblr community. I wasn’t really active in it with my writing, and art Tumblr account. So, I’m still new to the Writeblr community.

Please feel free to Tag me, send me asks, message me about your characters, WIPS, book recs, etc. I’m happy to receive, and talk about them!

My name is Jessica. I can be referred to as Jess, or as my common persona on the internet, Soul (from SoulGalaxyWolf). I’m 25 with she/they pronouns and I pursued a creative writing degree with a minor in studio art for most of my college years until I had to transfer to a local university—transfer into an English degree, due to financial reasons. The same reasons that force me to not complete my last semester I need to take to finish.

I have bad social anxiety, and it’s challenging for me to interact with an online community. I’m going to try, though. I have a strong desire to interact with more writers. I have problems with motivation and discipline, too. I’m not diagnosed with any mental disorders (officially?), but I have been told I have depression by therapists, so that might be a challenge for me as well to interact with this community.

My main goal is to interact with the community and talk to other people about writing over my own work, but I would like to do progress stuff of my current main WIP. Since the first time I made this post I haven’t been all that successful. I’m going to work on that.

A common question I would hear is what started it all? I don’t recall specifically when I decided to do it professionally, but I do remember a core memory for what might’ve started it. TL;DR: I went passed a minimum word count for a writing assignment in third grade. The prompt was finding an egg underneath the bed. I remember enjoying how my classmates reacted to how much I wrote. I had a lot of fun writing from that prompt. It would be the only prompt that I could write from, lol. I have issues with them now.

What I mostly like to read and write is YA fantasy. I am interested in other subgenres of fantasy, but It’s hard to find interesting fantasy novel series without a recommendation. Also, all the fantasy books I could think of right now are YA fantasy’s, so I can’t think of other books I’ve read that weren’t YA fantasy.

Other genres I enjoy are paranormal, sci-fi, and historical fiction, and mystery/thriller/horror. It’s mostly a specific area of these genres: supernatural abilities (not much for vampires, but prefer interesting werewolf stories), books like “The Martian” for sci-fi, and victorian-esque(?) era, or steampunk for historical fiction. I’m interested in reading mythology and folklore stories, but haven’t looked or seen any.

If you have an obsession with genres within or outside my interests and would be super excited to talk about it, chat with me. I wanna be convinced, I wanna be pushed, and I want to be attacked by your interests in different and similar genres :)

My favorite tropes are found family, idiot1 and Idiot2, soulmates, villain redemption arcs, villain x hero, and more.

I only like romances as subplots. Only exceptions are probably two stories that’s on Wattpad. One is mxm, but it’s mostly because I kin hard on one character (Dear Uncle Vic from “I Kissed a Boy” series by rotXinXpieces).

My W.I.P:

The Siren with a Silent Voice: Another small town magical realism story. It also has a dark secret that is attached to the town that involves the families of the main characters. Probably incredibly similar to Into the Witch’s Town, but it goes to a different direction that’s more “adventure” fantasy then cozy fantasy. Currently have four chapters written on Wattpad, but haven’t worked on it for a while because I desperately need to plan it out. Plus, the first chapter is boring too me. :(

Into The Witch’s Town: A cottage core magical realism novella/novel. My protag, Zelmarie, or Faye/Zel, inherits her grandmother’s home in a small town filled with inhabitants that have as much of a strong personality as her grandmother did. I haven’t gotten far into the planning phase.

Connecting Souls: This story used to be my main, but I decided to stop working on it until I don’t get so overwhelmed with world building-- I want to make my own world to set most of my stories in. "Connecting Souls” is about a girl that has trust issues who is thrown into a different world then her own. Her family was taken from her, so she has to navigate the world while struggling to trust her traveling companions. Themes include trust, found family, and trauma. I decided to work on something that I could realistically accomplish for now, so this is in the back burner.

[Working Title]: I also have a story I’m writing with a friend. I don’t really have a title to include, but it’s about experiments on magical races by humans. One is a race I made, and my friends character is a race that he made. We haven’t worked on it in a while, but I’m trying to work on some stuff towards it.

That’s it. Interact with this post if ya interested. Have a great day, you guys :3c

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