#I know my mental health does not help the situation in the slightest but I’m trying to work on it

[messagestothem]

Message to, Bipolar

Mental health seems to be on a lot of people’s minds lately. More than ever, we hear companies, influencers, and other advocates talk about mental health but when they do it seems to only scratch the surface. Rarely do we hear personal accounts from ordinary people. I want to change that, in hopes that at least one person can relate and find comfort in knowing they are not alone, maybe even see a glimmer of hope. I know, it sounds extremely cliche, but these conversations need to be had and the stories need to be heard. The minute we stop talking about mental health is the minute we start to forget about those that need to not be forgotten, rather we need the most company. 

To accomplish this, I need to introduce myself. My name is Javier Pina, Jr. I’m 26, I work full time, and attend university full time. My family is somewhat close but years of trauma from various situations have caused us to keep a distance. I was sexually molested from the age of 6 until I was about 8. The day I told my secret, what happened to me is the day I felt a change. That day I gave up my secret was the day I gave up my shield, I became vulnerable. 

This post isn’t about the trauma itself but what it caused and how someone like me; us, can cope, and find community, and happiness. I am not a doctor, nor do I consider myself a professional in the mental health space, I can only speak from my own experiences.

In addition to proper medication and therapy, I’ve found taking inventory of my feelings has helped me tremendously. While it may seem scary having to face your emotions, having a better idea of why you’re feeling a certain way makes it that much easier to combat those emotions. Ask yourself, why do I think I’m feeling this way? what triggered it and are your feelings reasonable for the situation. 

To be specific, I suffer from a disorder called Bipolar, unfortunately, the depiction in the media and culture is that those with bipolar are unhinged, however, it’s not the case for most. I myself have periods of highs and lows, as I’ve gotten older the lows have become less intense but have become longer in time. 

Lately, I have found myself to be uninspired, the things I once found joy in have become less satisfying. I blamed being extremely stressed for my lack of inspiration. I can’t get myself in the gym, I can’t get myself to focus on school and a lot of my responsibilities besides work go unattended to. For weeks I was in denial that I may have entered a depressive episode, I did not want to accept it because not knowing how long this one was going to last was going to be the death of me, sort of speak. Then I remembered that I’d gone through this before and I prevailed, my point exactly! We get so caught up in our diagnosis, we can’t see past what is in front of us because we are so consumed by such big emotions and anxieties. 

CAUTION! Cliche’s ahead! 

I’m aware that just hearing it gets better isn’t enough, but I am here to tell you IT DOES! You must believe that you will get past it, maybe not forever but I promise there will be a relief. Take it day by day, there will be good days and there will be days that just feel like 

absolute hell. When we hear this, we automatically think “but you don’t know what I’m going through” or “I’m going through something worst’. Both are valid points. While they might be true, we can’t sit around and do nothing. Even the slightest effort will go a long way. You might consider going out for a walk, talking to a friend or what some might find the hardest, seeking professional help. For the longest I rejected any idea that involved professional help because to me that was admitting something was wrong. Excuse the informality but MAN am I glad I did, even making the appointment made me feel hopeful, I knew I was going in the right direction. If seeing a doctor doesn’t sound like your cup of tea or it might not be accessible, I urge you to try alternatives such as self-guided meditation, apps dealing with anxiety and depression. I also understand and deeply sympathize with those out there that might not have the means to see a doctor but when there is a will there is a way. Below are a few links I found helpful when I first started my journey of healing, including places where you can find affordable or subsidized treatment. 

Therapy for Every Budget: Access It 

App/web based help: 

National Helpline - confidential, free, 24-hour-a-day, 365-day-a-year, information service, in English and Spanish, for individuals and family members facing mental and/or substance use disorders. This service provides referrals to local treatment facilities, support groups, and community-based organizations:

1-800-662-HELP (4357)

Best of luck and a lot of love, 

Javi.

Rheingold’s definition of “connective blogging” asked the writer to create a connection with the public. Connective blogging brings people with similar interests together. In addition, he says, “…improve your digital profile, influence others, and contribute to the commons”. He describes four voices, filter, connector, critic, and advocate. 

In my blog I filtered by sharing something I found interesting in or could provide some insight to others seeking such information, defining my own terms. In this case, I chose to write about mental health and my personal experience with it. In addition, I provided useful links that not only increased the credibility of the blog but also furthered the idea of “filtering”. Providing links related to the content of the blog continues the specific conversation even once they’ve clicked off the blog 

Providing links in a blog also makes “connections” according to Rheingold.  Providing several types of mental health resources in my blog provided the reader with several options to take. It’s an important feature when making connections because it broadens the possibility of connections made. The reason is, not everyone will connect to the same thing as the next person. 

He also mentions that the saying “Everybody is a critic” is a cliché. His words, to me, seemed as if he was saying to take everything with a grain of salt when reading blogs. With those same words, it could also encourage writers of blogs to not care about what others might say when responding to their ideas. Opening about my mental health in a blog closely ties to this ideology. While I may assume that me being vulnerable will result in fewer critics, I could be wrong. Even if that were to be the case, I am never discouraged to talk about my journey because doing so would lessen the possibility of me reaching someone who might need to hear it. 

Being an advocate when blogging can, “..change both the bloggers and bloggers public.” States Rheingold. I accomplished this by speaking about mental health challenges and being a champion for those who have yet to conquer it. In my blog, I advocated for mental health services, and I encouraged my readers to seek help and to lessen their hesitations. In addition, as mentioned earlier, I provided helpful links to several types of mental health services.  Being an advocate for something goes beyond just providing links and information. The words written in the blog must be authentic, genuine, and inspired to truly be an advocate for something.

[xyztrio721]

I apologize for the sudden vent post (?), but I just wanted to get something off of my chest.

I don’t want to be in college right now. My heart is not in my human biology class at all, and I think that’s having a negative impact on my academics. I’m constantly overwhelmed by the amount of information I have to learn from the lectures, I’m having difficulty finishing the labs I get each class, I get very stressed out about whether or not I can get my homework done on time, I’m having difficulty concentrating on reading the textbook and studying, I’m pretty sure I did poorly on my first test for the class, I have little to no confidence on how well I’ll do on the rests of the tests and the three lab practicals I have to do over the course of the class, and I keep forgetting that I have to make a PowerPoint presentation on a disease I’m interesting in researching. Overall, I am not doing so hot in this class. I want to drop out and take a break from college for maybe a year or so because I think these might be signs of burnout/a mental health disorder, but I’m afraid I might not be able do that.

There are a few reasons for this, one of the big ones being that I don’t know if my college will allow me to take a break for a year. I don’t know if I’ll be punished in terms of not receiving financial aid, being kicked out of the honor society I’m a part of (I’m a part of Phi Theta Kappa), falling behind on my degree (I have somewhere between 6-8 classes left until I graduate), or not being reaccepted once I come back. I don’t know if I have a good enough reason to take a break (I don’t think mental health issues are a good enough reason to leave college for a year, at least in the eyes of my college). I don’t know what I want to do during the break, though I do want to find a job, learn to drive (I failed my first driving test and will likely have to retake the permit knowledge test because my permit is about to expire in two months), and learn how to function like a normal person for once in my life (I’m terrified of people in general and don’t know how to converse with anyone, including my friends and parents). I just want to become an adult, which I should have done two years ago, but couldn’t because I’ve been so focused on school for two (almost three) years now and have not yet found a way to balance my life outside of school with my academic life.

Another big reason as to why I may not be able to take a break from college is my parents. My parents don’t seem to understand why school stresses me out so much, even if I only have one class this semester. I tried to talk to my dad about this, and he was pretty much annoyed with me for wanting to drop human biology before I even started the class, saying something along the lines of “It’s just one class. You can do this”. As you can imagine, this attitude does not help me in the slightest. If anything, it makes me feel worse, as I’ve been viewing myself as a coward who can’t even handle taking a single class during a single semester in college (which isn’t new, since I’ve felt like a coward for not being able to handle school from an emotional standpoint for years now) as of late. My mom likely feels the same way, which makes this whole situation even more infuriating.

Combined with the realization that my parents are not as supportive of me as I thought they were, the realization that I may have been a victim of emotional abuse from my mother, and the ongoing investigation of whether or not I have ADD/ADHD or ASD (or both), and I think you can understand why I want to take a break from college.

But it’s never going to happen, isn’t it? Not when my parents seem to be pressuring me (both intentionally and unintentionally) to finish college as soon as possible, and not when I don’t know if my college will even consider letting me take a year-long break.

I feel so trapped… I wish I knew where I could find some help me get through this and/or help me figure out how to take a break from college, but I have no idea where to look…

#//vent #//vent post #(?) #I’m sick of having to deal with constant stress over whether or not I’ll succeed in my classes #I’m sick of wanting to die because I have to deal with mental health issues college and possibly unsupportive parents at the same time #I’m sick of feeling lonely because I’m afraid of approaching people #I’m sick of not feeling like an adult #and I’m sick of my parents treating me as if I were a child still #I’m just so… tired #//suicide mention #//suicidal thoughts #in the tags at least #I want help but I don’t know where to get it #other than the two therapists I’m seeing right now #I don’t know who I should turn to to talk about this #//abuse mention #//emotional abuse

[plush-rabbit]

Mental Toll - Brothers.

Request: My mom kicked me out, her 15 year old daughter out of her house. And I've been staying with my aunt but everything is taking a mental toll on me . Can I get a Beel, mammon, Leviathan, or asmo comfort?

A/N: Sweetheart, I’m sorry for this. It can be all so difficult for you, but please take care of yourself. Remember that nothing is your fault, you’re a child, you’re gonna be okay. Please don’t keep these emotions bottled up (im also assuming this is comfort on your situation, so yeah)

-

Mammon:

You’ll always have a place with him. He’s taken on a guardian role for you and while he might have hated it at first, he’s grown attached to you. Your guardians in the Human Realm don't matter. They decided to leave you, so now you’re here with him and he isn’t going to abandon you anytime soon. Mammon may not know what to do when he finds you crying and unable to speak, but he cares and he’ll try to show that to you, telling you that you can bunk with him for the night- you get to take his bed and he’ll sleep on the couch, you don’t have to be alone.

He isn’t exactly the best at comforting, using a bit too many words only to come up short, but once that initial nervousness wears off, he’s comforting. He’s taken care of a child before- granted they were much younger, and was then put into the care of witches- he knows what a scared kid looks like. He’ll offer what he can to you and let you rest your head on his bicep as he listens to you ramble about what happened. He won’t ever push for you to talk, but it might help sort out all those feelings that are bubbling up inside of you.

Of course it’s difficult for the both of you. He isn’t too knowledgeable about the mentality and fragility of a human mind and emotions but he can assume to be essentially kicked out of a parent’s home can be rough. He’s dealt with it before even if he knew the risks. He remembers the nights of pain and agony, the silent suffering that was thick in the air, and the lack of self-care. He comes in with a small meal every day, grabbing random vitamins that he thinks might be good for you, and just lets you rest. You see a more hidden side of Mammon, the one that cares too much, that acts almost like a parental figure and have a comforting smile and gives nice hugs.

You aren’t free to rest forever. He’s also seen what that kind of damage that can do to someone's mental health. He won’t ever pressure you to go out and do something you don’t want to, but you do have to move from the spot on his bed. You can hide yourself in his room for as long as you want, but you can’t live your life stuck in a bed. He knows that that isn’t good for anyone. You’ll have all the space that you could want and need, but you need to also talk to him and take care of yourself.

It’s his role as your guardian to take care of you and make sure that nothing bad would happen to you- you being in the Human Realm makes no difference to that. You’re still under his protection and he’ll take care of you as much as he can. Mammon can be brash, and have his sin take over, but it isn’t all that he is. He can be selfless and take care of you and let you just relax around him. There’s no pressure put on you and he’ll protect you. He promises that- he’s a demon, he’s lived for a long time and he’ll live for an even longer time and as long as he’s around, he’ll protect you.

Leviathan:

Coming to Leviathan is certainly a choice. He cares- of course he does! But, he doesn’t know what to do. Of course he knows how it feels, but it was different and so long ago and buried under memories and the fictional world, that he chose to forget that. It’s different with you. You’re a child who’s crying and at a loss for a parent that left them and it must hurt. He’s awkward, but he’ll sit by you and have a hand on your back telling you to take all the time that you need. He’s always here in his room after all, so you can always find him.

In the beginning, he doesn’t know what to do. Surely, there should be words or tips online that could help him translate his words and feelings better than “that sucks.” An apology feels so fake and unsure and he doesn't want that for you. You deserve something real, an actual meaningful interaction that might help you but he comes up blank. He doesn’t know what exactly he should say, so he just lets you rest beside him as he tells you his own encounter with abandonment and what helped him.

He tries to make you feel better in a way that helps him- via distractions. It helped him and maybe it could help you. You like to spend time with him so you both must share some type of interest in common. He feels so proud of himself when he offers you to read his manga or play some of his games. It’s a nice distraction and depending on what you choose, it can be a great way to just open up emotions and see what could effectively help trigger just that blockade of emotions for the both of you. You don’t have to do it, but it proves to be nice to just immerse yourself in some fictional tale.

Eventually, he starts to read what you read once you’ve fallen asleep. You gravitated towards it for a reason and it’s easier to talk to you like that. You get to be the hero, the protagonist or whoever you want, and he knows the struggles that they go through. He can help through an outside glance. It starts off simple, just him mentioning comments, prying for information about why you like a certain character and then in just a blink of an eye, you’re crying. You opened up and he’s by your side.

Comforting you is a bit awkward, but what could he expect. He sits by you and lets you talk through your emotions even if it makes no sense- your words are garbled and out of order- but he gets the main point of it. Leviathan understands that you’re hurting and who wouldn’t be. You’re a child, and the love of a parental figure means a lot. He might not be confident to have that type of relationship with you, but he can certainly be a big brother who lets you come into his room and sleep in a futon that he has when you’re feeling particularly lonely.

Asmodeus:

His eyes are sad, the usual glow and glimmer dimmed and his smile once beautiful and stretched, it pulled into a soft frown. Even in sadness, he still looks beautiful. With a gentle pull, he brings you into his room, and lets you set your stuff down on the floor. Asmodeus holds your face in his hands and gingerly wipes away your tears. You’ve had such a long day and it’s no secret that he has the best bath in the house, so he lets you go use it in order to destress, just enough to clean yourself and have time to gather your feelings and thoughts.

The room is suited to him and to only him, but he figures that you wouldn’t want to be alone. He has to rid some of the extra pillows on the bed, rid of the stronger scents in the room in order to not congest you more, and just declutter his room a bit more. It’s suited for him, a demon who can and lives for the finer things, but for you, he needs you to be able to breathe. The sheets are replaced, the towel that he has set for you soft and fluffy and the clothes clean and smelling like the house, a much better scent than the stitched to your clothes. He sends it to you via magic, wanting you to come to him when you’re ready.

When you approach him, he gives you a comforting smile and pats the bed beside him. He grabs your hand and massages it slowly, telling you that he’ll be here for you if you need anything. You can talk to him or choose not to, and he won’t pressure you in the slightest. You can take your time to talk to him. He feels a bit bad that he can’t tell you that everything will be okay, he knows it will, so sure of it that he’d bet himself on it, but it isn't what you want to hear. You just need to know that he���s right there by your side.

For now, you’re okay. You’re safe in his room and he likes being an older brother- at least to a few. He likes to spoil people rotten, and he gets to do that with you. You get to have everything good and shiny. You’re going to be okay when you stick with him, because he won’t let anything happen to you. He’s going to be your new home, your new big brother.

The process is tough, and he doesn’t rush anything. It’s subtle with Asmodeus and being ever so careful with his appearance, he makes sure to take care of yours. Mental health is so fragile and he just wants you to be okay. He’ll offer substitutions if certain activities can feel a bit too difficult for you, but he doesn’t push too much. You still have to take care of yourself and it might feel overbearing, but he needs to take care of you.

Beelzebub:

Family means everything to Beelzebub. At the very end of it, it’s part of the core of who he is. He feels your pain and is empathetic when you tell him what happened and he holds you close, letting you rest on his bed as he sits on the edge with a comforting hand rubbing circles on your back. He’s a demon, he knows just how cruel others can be, and yet, to see someone hurt someone as young as you, it makes him sick.

Your tears hit him hard and he can only hug you as you cry into him about your situation. There are too many emotions inside of you and it must be so difficult for you to handle all of them and he wishes he could help take that away, but he can only hold you and make sure that you sleep in a position that won’t hurt your neck once the tears have tired you out. It’s the little things that he does for you until you come to him and explain everything to him, and he’ll listen and won’t interrupt.

During this time, he tries to not be imposing. He doesn’t want you to run from him so he’ll give you time to come to him when you’re ready. He checks up on you often, knocking on your door and entering with a few snacks. He’ll stay if you ask him and talk to you about mundane stuff. A part of him wonders if that’s really what you want to hear, but he can’t say anything different. He doesn’t know what it is that you want to hear and he doesn’t want to pressure you any further. Anyways, it seems like you like to listen to him during these moments. Maybe, he provides a nice distraction.

He’ll always make sure that he has his phone on him in case you need him. He’s told you before that you can contact him whenever you want, and that he’ll come running to you. He’s sure it’s his big brother instincts taking over. He may be the sixth brother, but it doesn’t remove the fact that he has a twin. It’s only by his power that he ranks sixth. With you, he can be a big brother and be the cool and caring type that takes care of you. You can always come to him whenever you need something and he’ll make sure to give you whatever you want.

It comes to no surprise that you two develop a strong bond and you start to stick to him and he welcomes that. He won’t leave you alone unless you ask him to and he always makes sure to include you in whatever activity he has. During lunch, he’ll sit with you and listen to you and he’s glad that you're starting to feel better around him. You’ve both grown quite attached and he tries to do good by you. Beelzebub will give you whatever you need because beside his twin, you’re the youngest in the family. He’ll reassure you that nothing is your fault, that you’re only a child and that you’ll be okay. You’ve been there for him and he’ll be there for you.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #big brother vibes!! #for all!! #or least four #theyd care a lot #theyd be clunky and unsure how to deal with it #but they would #they care

[makeste]

A theory I have seen is that Fuyumi wants the family back so desperately, because she and Toya experienced the better Endeavor, where everything was alright. My guess is that after his decent into abuse its stopped being like a normal family and Natsuo and Shoto never experienced a normal family. But that is just a therory

okay so speaking as someone who grew up with an abusive and neglectful parent (though in my case it was my mom rather than my dad)... it’s complicated. there are a lot of emotions there. I think one of the things Horikoshi has really excelled at with the whole Todoroki plot is the way that he’s used the four siblings to show the different ways that children respond to parental abuse. and I can say from personal experience that all of them are valid. not just the bitterness, anger, and resentment that Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto have all shown at times, but also that intense (but tentative, almost wishful-thinking) longing to just have a normal family that we see from Fuyumi. speaking again from experience, that last one isn’t an outlier at all. in fact, in my case, I’d say that was honestly the strongest feeling out of all of them, and it even fueled a lot of the other three emotions. btw just a heads up I’m gonna delve into some personal stuff here briefly, so yeah. I won’t put details, but if anyone wants an abuse trigger warning added to the post or anything like that, just let me know.

so the thing is, even during my angriest times, if some magic wish-granting genie had poofed in and told the child me, “’sup, I’m here to solve all of your family problems, just tell me what you want me to do,” I wouldn’t have wanted them to take my mom away and lock her up somewhere and make her suffer or anything like that. honestly, even during the worst of it, the thing I wanted more than anything else was just to have a normal family. my mom had a lot of untreated mental health issues, and it was basically a situation where you never knew which version of her you were going to get on any given day. so there were times when she was a kind and loving mother who took care of me and my siblings. and there were a great many more times when she was temperamental and erratic, and we all (my dad included) basically just walked on eggshells around her and did our best to lay low and try not to bother her because even little things might set her off, and we never knew how she was going to react. and my dad worked a lot, and my sibs and I were homeschooled for reasons which I’m not gonna get into because this post is already veering off on too many tangents, but anyway so the short of it is that my sibs and I grew up in this unstable environment and ended up more or less raising ourselves. and I resented my mom a lot for that, growing up, and I still do honestly.

now a lot’s happened since then, and she’s gotten some help, and my siblings and I are all adults now and we’re more or less good, even though we all took a certain amount of Psychic Damage along the way and we’re each still dealing with that. and we each have different relationships with our mom now, and a couple of my sibs are even fairly close to her. but for my part, I pretty much have no relationship with her at all outside of seeing her a few times a year at family get-togethers and the like. the thing is, even though my mom did eventually (after a LOT of false starts and struggles and heartache) get some help, she’s never really shown remorse for what my siblings and I went through because of her. she’s never taken responsibility for any of it. she blames a lot of other people, and will go on long rants about all of the terrible things that have happened to her and all of the horrible ways people have treated her (some of which is true, and some of which very much is not). but there’s never even the slightest acknowledgement of any of the things she herself has done to hurt others. she either passes the blame or just pretends it never happened. 

and honestly, it sucks. even now, there’s little to no real desire to change on her part. she’s gotten therapy and meds now, and so emotionally she’s much more stable than when we were kids, but one of the unfortunate results is that it’s all the more clear now that a lot of her behavior never had anything to do with her mental illness at all. she just didn’t care at all about how she was hurting others; or at the very least, didn’t care to face it. and that’s just how it is.

anyway, so I’m sorry to keep breaking away and telling you guys my own life story lol. but the point I’m trying to get at here is that I actually relate to Fuyumi so much, though. what I wanted more than anything was for my mom to care, and to say she was sorry, and for me to be able to believe that and to trust her, and for her to actually change. that was it.

and so for me, here’s the biggest difference between the Endeavor situation, and my own and so many others. the difference is that unlike people in real life, we know Endeavor is actually remorseful for what he’s done. we know it for certain because we’ve seen it for ourselves, from his own point of view. the manga actually lets us get inside his head and shows us that he really is sincere, that he really is sorry, and that he really is trying to change. and that’s something that’s impossible to get in real life. that certainty that the person really means it, that they’re genuinely remorseful and committed to making amends.

and for me, that’s fucking wish fulfillment right there. for the abusive parent to finally realize the error of their ways and be sorry and try to do right by their kids. I fucking wanted that. hell, I still want it, even though I’ve made my peace with things the way that they are. that chance to somehow heal the broken relationship, and have your parent genuinely try their best to be a real parent to you, even if it’s years after the fact? shit. I’d take that in a heartbeat.

and so when it comes to Fuyumi and her attempts to get her family to reconcile and experience a few normal things, I f feel that. I really do. because when you’re growing up in that type of situation, normal is all that you want. and I don’t think it’s anything that requires an explanation on her part, because it’s not actually an unusual reaction at all. it’s natural. it’s the most natural thing in the world. honestly it’s annoying that fandom sometimes tries to shame her for having those feelings. like honestly, fuck that. because the thing is, I’d wager that almost every kid who grew up with an abusive parent has at some time or other felt the exact same way.

and that includes Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto as well. literally the only difference between them and Fuyumi is that they feel that Endeavor’s change of heart is simply coming too late. it’s not that they don’t want their family back, just like she does; it’s that from their point of view, it’s something they can’t get back. for Fuyumi, that dream of having a normal family is something she’s still seeking. for Natsuo and Touya, that dream of having a normal family is something that was destroyed. something that Endeavor killed. something they’re in mourning of. and so Touya wants revenge for it, and Natsuo is trying to pick himself up and move past it. and meanwhile Shouto is caught somewhere in the middle of all of those reactions, because he’s still trying to decide whether or not he can ever bring himself to trust his father again. he’s somewhere in between his brothers’ mourning and his sister’s hopefulness. sort of a Schrodinger type of deal lol.

but anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that all four siblings are really experiencing the same thing, just in different ways. Fuyu may be the one arranging family dinners and the like, but that same longing to be part of a normal family is at the core of Natsuo, Shouto, and even Touya’s behavior as well. Natsuo’s hurt and resentment, and Touya’s spite and bitterness, come from being denied the thing they want. and Fuyu’s shaky attempts at reconciliation come from her desire to still obtain it somehow. but at the end of the day they’re the exact same feelings. and they all come from the same place.

anyways, hopefully that makes some kind of sense. basically, everyone is valid. Fuyu is valid, Natsu and Shouto are valid, and Touya is murdery which isn’t cool, but his feelings are still valid too nonetheless. hugs and therapy for the Todoroki children in 2021, Horikoshi. please and thank you.

#todoroki fuyumi #todoroki shouto #todoroki natsuo #dabi #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #bnha meta #todoroki fam meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #finally managed to snap my streak of writer's block and executive dysfunction after more than a week lol #rip my deku meta which is stubbornly refusing to sit still and be written #have a random todofam meta instead lol #this went all sorts of places but it's okay we're just trying to get back into the swing of things here #getting ready for whatever feels are coming our way this friday #do your worst horikoshi #but not really though please

[whimsicallyreading]

Part Four~

(Part Three)

Aelin loved Elide. She did. The tiny brunette was like a little sister to her.

But if she said Lorcan Salvaterre’s name one more time she was going to throttle her.

Aelin smiled through her annoyance, as Elide filled her in on her new boyfriend. They organized shelves, set up displays, cleaned couches, as she gushed on and on.

If it was anyone besides that walking, talking, ass, she would be thrilled for Elide. She didn’t go on dates often. After the car wreck when she’d lost her left leg, Elide became shy and timid with people she was unfamiliar with.

Aelin wanted to fill her in on what happened the night before. Tell her that exactly how her new boyfriend treated women when she wasn’t around, and the crowd he hung out with. She just- Aelin frowns and rubs the space between her eyebrows. She didn’t want to damper Elide’s happiness.

“He took me to this little restaurant on the Avery River last weekend. It was adorable,” Elide babbled as she rearranged the new releases. “He didn’t even blink when I told him I don’t drink and ordered a Shirley Temple.”

Aelin laughs. “Your ordered a Shirley Temple on a date?”

Elide blushes, “they look fancier than a soda.”

That was a lie. Elide just loved everything cherry flavored.

“Enough about me,” Aelin startled as the tiny girl turned on her. “Tell me how your night went!” Elide beamed. “You went to the rodeo with Aedion, right?”

She gasps as the realization strikes her. “Did you see Lorcan ride? I haven’t even seen him compete, yet! I’m so jealous.”

“Yeah, I saw him.” Aelin answers vaguely, hoping Elide would take the vague answer and carry on.

“He told me he came in second last night.” Elide frowns. “He was really unhappy about it, and I told him that second was great. I don’t think he believed me. Lorcan is such a perfectionist.”

Yeah. So perfect he does drugs with his crappy, friends in a dimly lit bar. Aelin shoves a book onto the shelf a little too aggressively.

“I wish he wasn’t so hard on himself. It’s such a competitive sport, though. His buddies ride as well, and I think that makes it worse. He wants to impress them.”

Aelin looks back, realizing she’d stacked over half the shelf by herself, and sees Elide sitting on the floor behind her. She had a far off look on her face, and her chin was rested on one knee while her prosthetic leg was stretched in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to swallow back the annoyance creeping up on her. “Elide.”

“It’s just, a lot of peer pressure you know?” Elide continues talking as if she hasn’t heard her. “Despite all of that and the drama, he still makes time for me. It’s honestly really sweet and-“

“Elide,” Aelin tries to catch her attention gently.

“I still haven’t met his friends yet. I’m not sure if it’s just too soon for that, but his best friend Rowan is coming over tomorrow and-“

“Elide,” Aelin bites our sharply, cutting the girl off mid sentence. “I’m glad to hear you are happy, and that your boyfriend gives a shit but can you please help me do the shelving like I pay you to do?”

Guilt. Instantaneous guilt as the younger girl wilts like a flower under a gale-force wind. “Sorry, Lin.” Elide whispers and scurries away, her cheeks reddening.

Shit. Aelin taps her head against the shelf in front of her. She felt like a piece of shit.

Aelin has been dealing with her issues for years, going to therapist after therapist, but she was still prone to bouts of anger and depression. She had it mostly under control, but sometimes it slipped from her. Being tired and skipping lunch hadn’t helped.

As Yrene always told her- “The first step in better mental health is taking care of your body” Something Aelin had never been good about.

Elide hadn’t deserved her ire, she would have to figure out a way to make it up to her. Aelin sighs in resignation, already knowing what she’d have to do.

Aelin finishes the shelves first, figuring Elide would need a minute to compose herself. Her phone dings with the reply to her text message.

Lysandra- Tonight at 6:00

“Elide?” she searches around the shop for her and finds her sitting behind the computer at the front desk.

“Yeah?” Elide replies, her voice is a little gravely and she refuses to meet Aelin’s eyes.

Aelin slinks behind the desk and wraps an arm around Elide’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I wasn’t kind.” She wouldn’t lie, she felt a bit like a toddler having to apologize for her short temper. A little embarrassment was better than an unhappy friend.

“It’s fine, Lin. I know I’m a little much to handle,” Elide still doesn’t look at her.

“No, it’s not okay, but I’m going to make it up to you,” Aelin smiles even if inside she’s cringing.

“Yeah?” Elide finally looks her in the eye, curiosity sparkling there.

“I texted Lys about the party she’s having tonight,” Aelin starts and Elide’s grow wide. “Would you want to go with me?”

“To a party? You hate parties,” she questions but Elide is already thrumming with excitement.

Aelin grabs Elide’s hand and squeezes. She doesn’t hate parties. Contrary, Aelin loves night out a little too much. That was her downfall. Now she was wary of them, but it didn’t mean she hated them.

“Really? You will go?” Elide smiles and stands up. “I’m so excited. Wow. Okay. I’ll go do with you.”

“Great, we can walk over together at five-thirty?” They lived the in the same apartment complex, it was easy for them to meet up and go places after work.

Elide is grinning ear to ear now as she hustles to finish up her chores for the day. “Sounds great. I’m so excited!”

Aelin is feeling a little upbeat herself. Even if parties weren’t really her scene anymore, attending would be fun. Elide being there would keep her from getting into any trouble, so what’s the harm?

She should know that’s the question that always goes before the fall.

~~~

Aeljn was feeling good.

She pulled on her slinky, green-velvet dress, and braided her hair into a crown like Aunt Marion used to do for her. Dressing up felt like armor to Aelin and she was a warrior who would turn heads tonight.

Elide has also done a great job dressing up. Billowing black pants and a silver singlet. She didn’t enjoy dressing up as much as Aelin, being the center of attention made her anxious, but she didn’t give herself enough credit. Elide was beautiful and Aelin would make sure her friend new that this evening.

Lysandra lived in a loft in downtown Rifthold. She was old money and Aelin was a frequent of her outrageous parties in highschool. Some of her most iconic teenage memories happened in Lysandra’s family home.

Not her proudest, but memorable for sure.

It was already in full swing when they arrived. Music played over Bluetooth speakers, various concoctions were passed around in red cups and people mingles and moved against one another in every open space.

Elide looked a little overwhelmed, but Aelin smiled at her reassuringly.

“Lin!” Lysandra appears from the crowd like a leopard from a jungle. She filings her arms around Aelin’s neck and kisses her cheek. “I’m so glad you are here!”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been to one of your get together,” Aelin wrapped her arms tightly around Lysandra.

“This is my friend Elide,” she gestures to the girl standing stiffly behind her. “Elide this is one of my oldest friends Lysandra. Possibly my soon to be sister-in-law.”

Aelin throws and wink at Lys who immediately retaliates with a pinch to her arm. “I love you and Aedion but I’m too young for that,” she scolds.

“Sure you are,” Aelin teases sliding back to Elide’s side and wrapping a comforting arm around her waist. “Those two are stupid in love don’t let her fool you,” she wiggles her fingers and Elide laughs.

“Stay right here, I’ll go get us some drinks.” Lysandra smiles and disappears into the crowd.

Almost as soon as she’s gone, there’s a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, absolute dread fills her gut. “I swear you all are stalking me,” Aelin moans.

Rowan Whitethorn is standing behind them, drink in hand and a scowl on his face. “What do you mean? This is the first time I’ve seen you since you ran out on me.” There’s an edge in his voice and Aelin knows he’s there for trouble. “I just thought I’d say hello and ask what the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Aelin is indignant. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Um,” Elide stammers. “Should I give you two space?”

“I really liked you, and you stormed out on me.” Rowan growls lowly. “I don’t know what I did wrong? You humiliated me in front of my friends.”

Aelin throws her head back and laughs. A sense of satisfaction brews in her chest when she sees the forest fire beginning in his eyes. “I embarrassed you? Your friends treated me like shit.” She hisses between her teeth.

Rowan’s frown deepens into a near snarl, “I’m not responsible for what those idiots say.”

“You-“ she jabs a finger into his chest. “Stood bye and let them say it, that makes you implicit. If you respected me in the slightest my comfort and dignity would have mattered to you.”

Aelin makes to jab him again but his hand catches her wrist and she can’t control the flinch.

His eyes widen, but a body appears in between them. Elide Lochan stands like a solider in front of the man who is twice her size. “You don’t touch her.”

Rowan backed off a step, his voice raising. “She was prodding me-“ he stops himself and takes a breath, a crease forming in his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ll back off.”

“What’s going on over here?” Lysandra’s voice cuts through the noise of the party. She doesn’t look happy.

“He put his hands on her,” Elide hisses and Rowan’s eyes go from anger to shock.

He holds up his hands and looks to Lysandra. “I didn’t. I swear.”

Lysandra stands next to Elide forming a wall between him and Aelin. As one of the few people who knew about Aelin’s drama of the last couple of years, the look of this situation boiled her blood.

“Lys, he didn’t-“ Aelin tries to douse the scene they were about to create.

Lysandra gives her a look that makes Aelin quiet. “I love you Lin, but I don’t trust your excuses.”

That hurt. Her heart feels like it was wrung in her chest. Aelin crosses her arms in front of her, suddenly feeling withdrawn from the situation.

Elide hasn’t broken her stare from Rowan. “You should probably leave.”

“What?” He flounders looking equal parts shocked and horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare her. We know each other.”

“I agree,” Lysandra tilts her chin to the door. “You aren’t welcome here any longer.”

Rowan looks at her for help, and she feels bad for him. Aelin knows she touched him first, but Lysandra’s comment was like a cold knife in her side and she was still bleeding. She didn’t know what to do or say.

“Rowan? What’s going on?” Lorcan appears behind Rowan, placing a hand on his shoulder. Aelin knows the moment he sees Elide standing in front of her, because his face deflated.

“You know him?” Elide’s voice is cold.

Lorcan, a beast of a male, cowers in front of little Elide. His mouth gapes like a fish. He can’t deny her question, but affirming it seemed worse. “Ellie,” her name comes out strangled.

“These are your friends, Lorcan? The people you seem to be keeping me from?” Elide darkens further as she looks at Rowan. “I guess I understand why.”

“Both of you can leave, then.” Lysandra smiles maliciously.

“I’m sorry, Aelin.” Rowan rubs both of his hands across his face then through his hair. “Damn it, I didn’t mean for this to go like it did. I wanted to apologize.” He says mostly to himself.

“Elide. He’s my friend. I don’t know what’s going on-“ Lorcan scrambles to cover his ass, but Elide isn’t having it.

“This is Lysandra’s house.” Elide says so calmly it would have been kinder if she yelled. “She asked you to leave.”

Lorcan looks at her, absolutely fuming and Aelin knows he’s beyond pissed. “I don’t know what this lying bitch-“

A slap broke like thunder between them.

Lorcan holds his cheek as Aelin gapes at Elide in shock. There are no tears to be seen in the younger girls expression. Her shoulders are trembling, not with fear but anger.

“Let’s go.” Rowan chokes out. He grabs Lorcan’s shoulder and pulls him away from the trio of women.

Lysandra watches them like a predator until they clear her front door. Her tense shoulders only relax when they leave. She releases a breath and looks at Elide.

“You are hella cool, Ellie. You deserve something better than that piss-poor beer I brought.” She nods to the solo cups that had been abandoned on the table. “I’ve got better shit in my room. Let’s go.”

Elide looks follows Lysandra with an elated look on her face. Aelin smiles dimly, she could see them becoming fast friends. Elide would be a good addition to the group.

They pushed through the crowd, and up the stairs. Aelin wasn’t in the partying mood anymore, which was disappointing. She’d been looking forward to it, and so had Elide.

Shaking her head, Aelin decides she will take a small reprieve in Lysandra’s room then suggest they go back downstairs. Elide was only comfortable coming to a party because she was going to be with her. Now not only was her night ruined, but she was on the outs with Lorcan because of her.

The very least she could do was make sure the night ended on a good note for Elide. Lysandra would be totally willing to help Aelin get her to let loose.

When they reach the bedroom Lysandra stops the outside the door. “You can go in, Ellie. I need to talk to Aelin for just a second.”

Elide nods happily and shuffles inside.

“Lys,” Aelin starts before Lysandra can. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“You promised me before,” her voice is hard but not unloving. “Who was that Aelin?”

She doesn’t miss the use of her full name. “Just some guy I went out for drinks with one time. I honestly don’t even know him.” Aelin assures.

“Has he been bothering you? If he is I will castrate him and feed his own-“ Aelin covers her ears.

“No, no. We just bumped into each other, it was a misunderstanding,” Aelin swears. “Honestly, you didn’t need to kick him out.”

“Yes,” Lysandra hisses. “I did. You aren’t going through that again, Aelin. Not over my dead body.”

“I appreciate that you love me so much,” Aelin whispers, not wanting Elide to pick up on their conversation. “But I can take care of myself. I’m not broken, Lys. Just hurt.”

Lysandra groans sadly, her dark lashes fan against her cheeks as if she’s fighting tears back. Suddenly Lys is hugging her again, and Aelin sinks into her embrace like always.

“I know you aren’t broken. I’m sorry that I’m so fussy.” Aelin let’s her tuck itself into Lys shoulder, aware that she was a safe person to be open with.

After a moment they pull apart. “Please. Just be careful,” Lysandra pleads.

“Of course,” Aelin promises. “Thank you for always having my back.”

“Never again,” Lysandra reiterates, reaching out to grab her hand.

“Never again.” Aeljn squeezes it.

“Lysandra! Your cat is so cute!” Elide coos from behind the door. The tension is broken and the two of them look at the other and laugh.

“Let’s go.” Aelin says, and Lysandra holds the door for the both of them.

Never again would Aelin submit to a cruel man’s will.

Not even for a man like Rowan Whitethorn.

Part Two of the birthday mass update! Thank you guys so much for reading 💚

(Tag list- let me know if you would like to be added or removed? :D)

@charincharge

@westofmoon

@jorjy-jo

@classyclodranchparty

@morganofthewildfire

@ashleymariegriffin

@wordsxstars

@sjmships

@rolltide7

@surielandiareendgame

@jlinez

@rowaelinismyotp

@mariamuses

@swankii-art-teacher

@highladyof-erilea

@untoldstuff

@superspiritfestival

@tillyrubes10

@ghostlyrose2

@live-the-fangirl-life

#throne of glass #cowboy au #rowaelin #fanfic

[izzabeean]

Chapter 18 : Awakening

SUMMARY

There's a lot to unpack.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,446

content : profanity

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : a/n: I'm sorry this took too long, I've been needing a mental health break with how busy life has become. This chapter is a bit rushed just because I wanted to post it before next week since I've been MIA for so long.

masterlist

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Slowly turning the key, your head starts to spin as you push the front door open to an empty apartment and a mixture of emotions surge through you. Relief that the repairs for your apartment are finally complete and you can move back to the comfort of your own home. Yet sadness swells in your chest at the realization you’ll be alone.

It’s weird. The natural response would be to get out of Oikawa’s apartment as soon as possible, sick of his antics and constant harassment. But for some incoherent reason, a part of you feels hesitant.

This heavy sensation in your chest drags you down as you walk into your apartment -- it seems so much more burdensome than when you left. Everything still feels fresh.

An agonizing pain mixed with confusion emanates off the walls flashing you back to the night Ushijima ending things. Your anxiety grows stronger as you picture his piercing hazel eyes glowering down at you after asking for you back. It's seemingly getting more and more difficult to make a decision as each moment passes and you're feeling inexplicably hopeless.  It's a terrible idea to get back together with him -- just remembering that night makes you sick. We need to talk still haunts you accompanied with his unbothered, stoic expression... Your heart starts to race trying to make sense of what you’re feeling.

Why is everything suddenly so difficult?

You clench your fists so tightly your knuckles turn white. Why does he even want you back? This isn’t something that he should take so lightly, he hurt you. Though you strongly feel anger festering within, a voice keeps whispering in your ear to take him back. You can’t tell if it’s what you truly want or it’s just the fear of disappointing your parents even more.

“How’s it looking?”

Your manic thoughts are pushed away with Oikawa as he walks further into the apartment to take a look around.

The flood -- you’d forgotten about that morning until this moment. Your heart starts beating faster as the memory rushes to the forefront, not just from the panic and frustration of waking up to a submerged apartment, but to the moment of the warmth under the covers with Oikawa’s firm body pressed up behind you. Had Oikawa been holding back the entire night you spent together? Of course, you didn’t know how long he’s had feelings for you, so surely if he did at the time, it must have been absolutely tempting to make a move on you. But why didn’t he? Truthfully, if the situation was switched then you would’ve taken the opportunity to…

“Not bad,” you answer, trying to force an honest smile, but Oikawa sees right through you.

“Why do you do that?” Oikawa says, his voice is tight on the cusp of irritation.

“Do what?” you respond quickly, hoping that he will just let this one go. But he doesn’t.

“Force yourself to smile like that,” he grunts. “You’re not good at hiding when you’re upset.”

“I’m not--”

“Bullshit,” he retorts with a harsh tone.

You bite your tongue, even more conflicted on what to say.

Oikawa sees that as he analyzes you, he knows it’s not easy for you to talk to him about stuff.  “Is something on your mind?” he asks softly, drawing his frustration back.

It’s hard to process, you’ve felt this heavy feeling for so long, you thought it was normal. The only time you’ve felt any reassurance is in Oikawa’s presence, yet for some reason, today the aching is much more prominent.  Everything feels so nerve wracking. You know he likes you and yet, it makes your heart throb.

“My parents,” you start with your voice a little shaky. “They think they know what’s best for me...”

“For the internship?”

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, eyes fixed on the ground. They also think they know it’s best for you to be with Ushijima, but you couldn’t tell Oikawa that. “Everything’s all set up and it could make me successful but…”

You turn away from him so your face is out of his view. The silence stretches between you for a moment. You feel oddly vulnerable, like the slightest touch will shatter you into pieces. If only it was easier to explain the constant pressure you receive from them, you might've tried to laugh about it upon telling him, just to make things a bit lighter. But, it wasn’t something you were ready to dig into.

“Then what do you want?” Oikawa asks, breaking the quietness.

The age old question that’s been going through your head this entire time. Truthfully, some answers seem so vivid now. You don’t want that internship… It’s not something that will excite you in any form. You want to work to achieve something and this feels like it’s just being handed to you because of your parents. There’s no drive for it.

But as for Ushijima, well...

“I don’t know,” you utter, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I ever will.”

“You’ll figure it out, I know you will,” Oikawa hums, before walking up to ruffle your hair.

Even as he pulls his hand away, his touch is still lingering, forcing you to catch your breath at the sudden surprise. His words are warm and caring as if he truly believes everything will fall into place. You want to believe him. Even the warmth in his eyes almost sways your skepticism, you can feel affection in them, but you can’t seem to grasp onto the hope he has. At this point you’re too stunned to even say a word as you allow your emotions to control you.

“When are you moving back in?” he asks, bringing you back to reality.

“Probably in the next couple days,” you breathe then pause staring at him for a bit while feeling your entire face burn up. An undeniable tension floats in the air and you're struggling to understand if it’s just your mind racing or it’s actually there. The way he manages to get your heart racing out of nowhere, the look he gives you when his chocolate eyes gaze at you, makes you want to melt… “Can you help?”

“Of course.”

------

Now that Iwaizumi is gone, it’s only standard for you to sleep in the guest bedroom. You’re not sure why a room down the hallway was more uncomfortable, but here you were tossing and turning unable to fall asleep. Of course you have other causes to your insomnia, like the pressure of deciding whether or not you should move forward with the internship and whether or not you should get back together with Ushijima. But at the very moment, your head can’t seem to wrap around the idea that Oikawa is just down the hall.

You’ve been living with him for awhile and now you decide to be nervous about it, you think.

Tucking your head under the covers, you take a deep breath inhaling the soft scents of softener and linen, a deep contrast to the sweet scent of citrus mixed with a tinge of oak in Oikawa’s room -- which you’d noticed shortly after is the essence of Oikawa. You clench your jaw, y our brain is all messed up from everything going on. Not to mention it's strange, the way Oikawa’s been so generous lately -- sweet without being boastful or bothersome, completely unlike himself. You’re not sure what you were expecting after your “fight”, but it probably wasn’t this.

You won't be sleeping anytime soon, so you get up and grab your coat, hoping an evening walk will put your mind at ease.

The night is dark and calm as you walk down the street, sidewalk lit by a streetlamp every few steps. Though quiet, your thoughts are louder than ever, pounding at your head hounding you to make a decision. As the cool air picks up and nips at your face, you quickly shove your hands in your pockets full of tissues and a cartridge. Pulling it out, you’re reminded of the evening you first bought the pack of smokes, how your agony ripped you apart to the point you had to turn to a bad habit. The recollection of relief pulsing through your body after inhaling the rich smoke tempted you as you open the pack and take out a stale cigarette that’s a bit crumpled.

The emptiness sets in and your eyes begin to gloss over as you think of what you should do next. For a moment the stress of your future can temporarily disappear with one breath, but how disappointed would Oikawa be if you did so.

That evening, when he called you in the midst of your smoke, he didn’t even know what had happened, but he was still there in a way. His voice echoes your head as he slurs that he hopes Ushijima makes you happy… It makes you hot and flustered. Oikawa always just wants what is best for you. Even if it didn’t benefit him…

You crush the cigarette into your palm and with that a shiver went down your spine. The heavy feeling in your chest seemed to lift itself a little and you almost thought you were standing a bit taller.

------

Fiddling with your pen, you look up once again at the time; class is almost over. Oikawa sits beside you, seemingly locked in on the professor's lecture. It feels unfamiliar to see him taking notes, attentively listening -- his concentration is normally as lacking as yours. Today your attention span is the worst it’s ever been trying to hone in on the dull monotone voice that booms across the class.

Then an idea sparks.

Quickly you try to grab the pen that Oikawa is writing with, but his reflexes are too swift for you as he jerks it away from your reach. A loud obnoxious screech from your chair lurching forward interrupts your professor in the middle of his lesson.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” the professor asks, while everyone’s eyes turn to you.

It’s awkward as you scoff under your breath, but sit up and readjust your seat.

“Y--yes, everything is good,” you say before having the professor return back to his stale lecture.

You let out a sigh while your face gets all flushed. The taste of desperation coats your mouth and it’s so overwhelming that you had to go to uncomfortable lengths just to feel the slightest bit of normalcy between the two of you. There’s just something about the way his irritation spikes through his tight-lipped smile and balling of fists while his eyes glare at you. You missed it.

Suddenly, a quiet snicker sounds beside you. In the corner of your eye, you can see a softness in Oikawa’s appearance and he's slightly smirking. You try not to make it obvious that you notice, but it makes your heart melt a little.

The remainder of the lesson, you continue to replay the way Oikawa’s lips almost turned up to a smile. You wish you got more of a reaction out of him, but it was enough to reassure things.  When the professor gives his final dismissal, Oikawa pops up to pack up his belongings. There’s this longing of wishing you could sit beside him longer as you slowly collect your things.

“Ushiwaka is here,”  Oikawa says, gesturing to the doorway.

You glance at the doorway noticing a familiar figure poking his head in. His eyes survey the classroom and before meeting yours, you quickly dart them away.

“Are you kidding?” you say under your breath, quickly zipping up your bag, feeling a flash of irritation course through your veins. “I’ll be right back.”

Oikawa raises his brow as he watches you speed towards Ushijima. He knew something like this was going to happen. It was only a matter of time.

But you weren’t pleased with Ushijima’s appearance.

"What are you doing?” you fume, you were quite pissed off as you pout your lips in petulant annoyance.

“I wanted to walk you to your next class,” Ushijima admits so nonchalantly it grinds your teeth.

"N--no," you reply, losing your focus to Oikawa walking by. “No, I don’t need--”

“I need to make up for the time we’ve lost together,” Ushijima adds, eyes locked on to yours that are wandering past him looking at Oikawa who’s getting further and further away.

"I-- I can’t. Please just… I need more space,” you sputter before swallowing hard your body leading to Oikawa’s direction.

"Take whatever time you need, I'll be waiting,” is what you think you heard from him as you catch up to Oikawa, but you don’t really care because your heart feels like everything you did in the moment was unlawful. You didn’t want Oikawa to get the wrong idea, and you feel like he might have, it makes you sick. Just when things started to repair with him, Ushijima just had to sweep in.

“What did he want?” Oikawa asks, his gaze ahead. “Did you finally accept his proposal?”

“What? No," you answer, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re really taking your time with this aren’t you,” he mumbles. “You better figure it out quick, he’s not going to wait for you forever.”

“He can wait,” you say to which Oikawa glances at you.

You get to a fork in the hallway that branches off to your next class or leads to outside the building. Oikawa raises his hand to bid farewell, but you stop planting your feet and take a deep breath.

“Toru.”

He stops and looks over at you…

“Can you come with me…. to my parents?” you breathe. “I don’t want to do the internship. I just don’t want to go alone to tell them.”

Hesitant of his answer, you wait for his response.

“I’d be happy to.”

----

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you whine, abruptly stopping on the sidewalk in front of your parents house. The sun hides behind the dark clouds, almost seeming like a sigh that you shouldn’t move forward with your plan, but gently touches your back.

“It will be alright,” Oikawa says softly as you try to push away the heat of his touch.

You’re sure that because Oikawa is here with you, you can go through with it. Even if you’re on the verge of retreating, it’s in fact, much more relieving to have him support you on the sidelines.

Every ounce of you pushes your body forward towards the front door. The ominous illusion of a stone cold castle looms over you as you press your finger to the doorbell.  The anxiety starts to build up as you look back to Oikawa. He gives you a smile and your face is hot, worried about what's to come from this conversation.

The door unlatches and slowly opens.

“Oh, hello,” your mom says, eyes wide yet narrow glaring down at you. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi,” you respond shyly. You wanted to grab Oikawa’s body to shield you from your mom’s unpleasant aura, but of course you plant your feet. “This is Toru Oikawa.”

Looking back at him to check in and see if he too is incapacitated from her energy. But he isn’t.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says with a bow.

“How charming, come in!” she greets.

Oikawa straightens up, smoothing out his shirt before fixing his hair. Your eyes widen in awe - his calm confidence is visionary. You didn’t remotely feel comfortable around your mother and Oikawa is smooth and endearing. You're definitely always bringing him with you when you have to see your parents.

Your poorly hidden anxiety is noted on Oikawa’s behalf as he raises an eyebrow and flicks you on the forehead.

“Don’t stress!” Oikawa smiles.

Entering into the house, you two take off your shoes and make your way into the dining area where your mom awaits you. The rooms feel remarkably lifeless and empty.

“Where’s dad?” you ask, taking a seat at the dining table as Oikawa follows suit, sitting next to you.

“Oh working again, doesn’t know when to stop,” your mom sighs. Her eyes trail to Oikawa and her gaze feels so much softer compared to the daggers she throws at you. “Would you like some tea? Water?”

Her gaze lingers as she patiently waits for an answer.

“Thank you, but I’m alright,” he replies.

She turns to you and your heart leaps out of your chest, her stare feels like it could drag your soul out of your body.

“No, I’m fine,” you say, voice shaky as you swallow hard, forcing the next couple words out of your mouth. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the internship.”

Your mom’s intimidating demeanor drops immediately, her eyes twinkling with excitement while taking a seat across from you.

“Oh they’re so delighted to have you,” she croons. “They’ve even made you a care package in anticipation of your arrival!”

“See, the thing is…”

Your mom’s blissful face cuts.

“What’s wrong,” she says, making the question more of a blank statement.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just--”

“You think a mother wouldn’t know her own daughter.”

“It’s just--”

“Spit it out.”

You hold your breath, not sure how to present it. Looking at Oikawa, his eyes are full of affection and reassurance, you’ve come this far and you can’t back out of it now.

“Are you quitting?” she murmurs, gazing at you with a stern, cold look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to cushion the blow. But her eyes grow with more displeasure.

“Excuse me,” she hisses.

The air cuts thin. You’re quiet upon hearing the disappointment in her voice, and can understand why she’d be absolutely mortified.

“All that your father and I have done for you,” she barks. “This is how you repay us?”

I knew this was going to happen, you think to yourself as the worst case scenario seems to be on track with her reaction.

“I want to find somewhere else to intern,” you breathe, scared your words are just going to start a war. Her eyes have blaze in them won’t go out. There’s so much passion to make you like her, but even more successful, despite you going against her wishes. Something in her aura makes you want to run, but running is all you’ve ever done. It’s time to face your fears. “Please, let me explain.”

She doesn’t speak, her scowl says everything as she leans back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, ever since I first went in for the interview,” you begin trembling. “Everyone was so welcoming and so excited to have me, but something just doesn’t feel right.”

“So you’re going to be selfish and only think about yourself?” she argues.

You recognize your anxiety from earlier stirring in your stomach. Your mom isn’t the easiest person to speak to, especially when her face radiates failure and suffering, this is quite possibly the most horrified you’ve seen her.

“It’s not what I want to do with my degree. I want to look somewhere else that will make me feel more fulfilled.”

“What you want is a mistake,” she thunders.

Her words are like knives digging into your heart. She just seems so distraught, and obviously cares about your future, but you can’t do this anymore.

You stand up from the table and bow deeply. “Will you please trust me? That’s all I ask.”

The room is silent as tension fills the air, you don’t really know what to expect as you shut your eyes tight waiting for a reaction. You’re expecting to be yelled at-- not to mention a shock wave of embarrassment protruding through you in front of Oikawa. The moment is painful and you don’t know what to do. You remain in the deep bow waiting.

“Alright. You don’t need to be so ridiculous, bowing...” she mumbles. You stand up and she has her hand clasp to her forehead. “You’re father’s going to kill me, but alright.”

Your heart rate increases, uncertain what she means by that, because you thought you’d misheard her.

“I guess it’s about time you’ve made your own decisions,” she says. “I was beginning to believe you’d continue to go along with it, but you’re your own person now.”

Shock and confusion washes over you, mixed with hope and excitement. You press your palm to your heart wondering if it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“Just don’t come crying when nothing goes your way,” she adds.

Letting out a huge breath, your lips upturn to a smile.

“Thank you,” you say. And it’s genuine.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 11

* * * * * * 

Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap

A slightly hairy hand shoots out and wraps around your fingers. The person it belongs to gives it a gentle squeeze, prompting you to look up at him. 

Bucky’s brown eyebrows raise in concern and his lips twitch at the corner in sympathy. 

“I know there’s a lot on your mind right now but the tapping-”

“Sorry.” You sigh, eyes moving back down to the cup of hot chocolate you’d long since stopped drinking. 

Despite the insanely cold and snowy weather of New York, Bucky and Steve persisted they take you out of the compound. 

The tense atmosphere in the facility was a bit smothering. On top of that your friends had noticed how upset you were over your current situation with Natasha.

It’s been a mere four days since everything happened and you’ve genuinely felt lost without the redhead. And while your friends have been giving you all the love and support you could ask for, it didn’t fill the void Natasha’s absence at created. 

Steve’s free hand reaches across the table and squeezes your shoulder,“ y/n it’s going to be okay.” 

“Is it though?” A sigh leaves your lips,“ how okay can it be if I’ve hurt someone I love?” 

Due to you having felt your love for Natasha for a minute now, the words are spoken casually. As if this wasn’t the first time you’d said them. But Steve and Bucky know that this is in fact the first time you have.

Which makes their shock become written on their faces. Brows raised, jaws dropped, and eyes on you. 

Looking up, you notice their expressions.“ What?” 

“You love her?” Bucky asks.

Que your shock. Not at knowing but at saying. 

“I- wh-” the groan you let out earns frowns from the few people scattered about the coffee shop, and burying your face in your hands makes your friends sigh. 

“Just, talk to her.” Bucky shrugs, not sure what else to say. 

Gaze rising to him through your fingers, you reply,“ I can’t. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” You sit up straight,“ and she has a right. I preached honesty in all of our sessions and our first date just to be lying to her the whole time. I’m the biggest hypocrite.” 

Steve nods,“ I don’t think you did it to hurt her. And I think Natasha knows that as well. But trusting someone- its-” the blonde starts off strong but seems to lose his words. 

Bucky is the one that continues,“ when you trust someone and they lie to you it fucking hurts. Regardless of their intentions. So give her time.”

You nod. 

True to Bucky’s suggestion. Time is exactly what Natasha needed. Less time than you’d expect. 

In fact she comes to you the next day. 

Your legs hand over the back of the couch, fingers brushing the soft rug as you hang upside down. Across from you, Carol sits in your chair petting Goose. 

“I’m just saying, talking about your missions to space would help. Not even in an “address your traumas” way just in general.” You tell your friend. 

A low laugh sounds from the blonde,“ I talk about my missions all the time. Maria and Monica love my space missions.”

“Are you being completely honest with them when you talk about it?” 

Her frown answers that for you. But before she can verbally reply, your office door opens. 

Glancing over, you see the ex-assassin standing in the doorway. Green eyes flicking from Carol to you. And as quickly as possible you scramble to stand from the couch, damn near kneeing yourself in the face as you do so.

Liho casually strolls in behind Natasha, eyeing the foreign cat in Carol’s lap. 

“Natasha. Hi.”

Hi? You mentally scold yourself. Is that really the best I could do?

Carol is quick to excuse herself, holding Goose, and smiling softly at you before slipping past Natasha and down the hall. 

The redhead gently closes the door behind her and looks at you silently. 

“I’m real-”

“Am I still scheduled for a session?” Her eyebrow quirks.

You nod. Silently moving to sit in your chair across from her. You give a smile to Liho who purrs as you pet her and seconds later finds her way on to your desk(a place she always puts herself in when Natasha comes by). 

It’s far too quiet for your liking but you know it’s best to let Natasha speak first. The last thing you want is to piss her off before she’s even spoken. 

The woman gets comfortable on the couch, legs crossing, as she looks over at you.“ Doc what are your thoughts on hypocrisy?” 

You breathe a humorless chuckle, mumbling an “I deserved that” before answering.“ I believe that hypocrisy is purely driven by self-interest. Most commonly, hypocrites go against their own morals because they feel that the personal benefits mean more than acting morally.”

She hums,“ you see. I have to ask because I’m currently in a situation with my girlfriend. She’s lied to me on a number of occasions even though she explicitly demanded my honesty throughout our relationship.”

 “And, um, how does that make you feel?” 

“Like-” she licks her lips, eyes diverting to the bookshelves,“ like maybe she lied to me because she doesn’t trust me. Which hurts, cause I’ve given her every reason to, despite my reservations.”

Bucky said it. She trusted you and you fucking hurt her. 

“Do you think that’s the actual reason behind her lie?” 

“Was it?” Her green eyes find your e/c ones again. 

Taking a deep breath, letting your shoulders drop with the exhale, you scoot to the edge of your chair,“ I trust you with my life Natasha and I have since the moment you let me in. I just- I lied because I didn’t want you to think I was weak. Which is stupid I know, assuming just makes me look like an ass, but I guess I was projecting.”

Your words make her frown. Her head tilts in the slightest.“ Projecting how?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I do feel weak. And it’s been a pretty prominent feeling this past year than ever before. Which- I’m not blaming any of you but, just being here? Talking to all of you? It’s like most of you have dealt with all kinds of things your entire lives.

And then I take on a mere hour of those emotions and I feel like I can’t handle it. While part of me knows I can. Another part of me feels like I’m in over my head, thinking I can help you.”

Natasha watches you as you speak and she swears you look more vulnerable in this moment than you ever have(and that’s including when you told her about the judgement you received for your powers). And it breaks her heart to hear that you don’t see how strong you are.

Which she feels she should correct.

Standing, the woman rounds the table, and squats in front of you. She takes her hands in yours and tries to catch your eyes.“ Y/n you are far from weak. The fact that you’re even able to help us cope with our traumas is strong. To then take on those emotions yourself-” she trails off with pride swirling in her eyes.

Her admission is definitely soothing in the moment at least. But you’re suddenly reminded of how this started in the first place.

“My reasons for hiding it don’t make it better. I never should’ve lied to you, regardless of my insecurities.” Your eyes flicker away in uncertainty, before returning to those gorgeous green orbs.“ I- I love you Natasha and I’m sorry for making you questions your own trustworthiness. I also promise to never ever lie to you again, just, please, give me another chance.” 

If she’s being honest you had her at I love you, but your promise makes it a million times better. And she trusts you to hold that promise. 

Gently, she brushes a strand of hair from your face, and cups your cheek,“ you get one,” her serious expression morphs to a smile,“ mainly because I love you too.”

This takes the top spot for your favorite moments with Natasha, effectively knocking your first kiss and date to spots two and three. 

Leaning forward, you cup Natasha’s cheek, and pull her into a kiss. For the first time you feel love communicated through the action. Perhaps it had been there before and you hadn’t noticed, either way you love it. 

As does Natasha, possibly even more so, proven by the way she lifts up, deepening the kiss as she situates herself on your lap. 

The woman’s legs rest either side of yours, effectively trapping you beneath her, as her tongue dances with yours. 

Daring to go further, you trail away from her lips, taking in a deep breath before attaching yours to her neck and collarbone. If the tightening of her legs around you is anything to go based off of, she enjoys your actions. 

So much so that an involuntary moan quietly escapes her as you gently suck a mark onto her skin. 

When she pulls away, you think that’s the end of this, at least for now. 

Natasha climbs off your lap and walks across the room to the door. The lock clicks with the twist of Natasha wrist, and she’s turning back to you with a dazed look in her eyes.

Holding your gaze, she slowly grasps the bottom of her shirt, and raises it above her head. Your heart pounds with every inch of skin that’s revealed to you.

Your eyes catch the scars littering her abdomen and you move without thinking. Walking over to the woman and running your fingers along a more noticeable one. 

The pink, slightly puffy, skin makes it clear it’s completely healed. But you can only imagine the pained it’d caused when inflicted.

“You’re perfectly imperfect Miss Romanoff.” You whisper, lifting your eyes to hers. 

It’s almost reeling to see the intensity in her green eyes.“ I love you.” She says for the second time and your heart beats that much faster.

“I love you too.”

The both of you seem to free fall into the passion of the moment. Hands make quick work of your clothing until it’s thrown around the room and your laid bare before each other. 

Hovering above Natasha, you kiss from her now bruised neck to her chest, sucking a nipple into your mouth until it stands at attention. Only moving to the other after she’s moaned, her fingers curling into your hair.

She gives a pleasantly painful tug when you release her second breast with a quiet pop. And as your eyes meet, you kiss her again, simultaneously running your fingers through her folds.

Her arousal wraps around your fingers and you swallow her next moan with another kiss. 

While the walls are soundproof, you aren’t interested in finding out just how much.

She bites her kiss swollen bottom lip as you ease a finger into her and press your thumb to her clit. You match each thrust of your fingers with a roll of your thumb. 

All the while loving the sound of your name falling from Natasha’s lips like a prayer.

Not wanting to be the only one receiving such immense pleasure, the redhead snakes a hand between your legs and applies the perfect amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

A breathy cry of her name leaves your lips as your body jerks from the sudden touch and incredible feeling. You have little to no idea how that reaction effects Natasha, that is until another rush of arousal pushes against your fingers. 

Then reminded of your goal, you focus on bringing Natasha to heavens gates, curling your fingers inside of her.

“F-fuck Y/n.” 

Had her own fingers not been slipping into you, you definitely would have been smirking proudly. 

The fluttering of her walls around your fingers gives away how close she is so you increase the speed in which your roll your thumb against her clit.

“Let go, I got you.” You assure her, the words a breath against her ear, and exactly what she needs to do so. 

Clenching around you, her back arches, effectively pushing your chests together. She shuts her eyes and slowly grinds against your fingers to ride out her high. 

A moment passes of you feeling her heart pound against her chest as she comes down. And the second she does, without warning, she curls her fingers inside you. 

“You are going to give me the pleasure of watching you come undone aren’t you?” She asks, lips barely pecking yours. 

But you nod, climbing higher and higher with each thrust.“ Y-yes.” You verbally answer.

Natasha takes delight in seeing your usually calm self seemingly so undone. A smirk tugs at her slips and she deliberately presses harder against your clit. That action timed with one seemingly deep thrust of her fingers sends you over. 

Your girlfriend even more please to hear your curse her name in ecstasy. 

Breathlessly, you rest your forehead against her shoulder. Catching her obvious action of licking you off her fingers. 

Spurned on by her action, you pull her into a bruising kiss. Your hand gripping her hip as you press ever closer. 

And you don’t even try to stop yourself from, once again, telling her,“ I love you.” 

Earning a glorious laugh from the woman who then kisses you,“ I love you too.” And god you could hear those words forever and die happy.

* * * * * *

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o  @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers​ @wildhoney32 @criminallyhamilton @fayhar @nat-km-mh @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #prove me wrong #reader insert

[little-writings]

can i request a fanfic where mc is a veterinarian with her own clinic and the reason she meets jumin is because of elizabeth needing a checkup!

Oh my goodness absolutely! This was actually so fun to write! 

Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy!

—————————————————————————————���—————–

“How long has it been since Elizabeth 3rd has been to the vet?” V asked, grinning fondly as the snowy-white cat pressed against his legs, a purr beginning to rumble in her throat.  

“She doesn’t need to see a vet. She’s in perfect health.” Jumin remarked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves absentmindedly. “I have a chef prepare her a perfectly figured diet, one of the most  accalimed groomers brush her coat once a week, and-”  

“They’re supposed to get examined yearly.”  

“Who are?”  

V scoffed. “Cats, dogs, and any other animal you could call a pet.”  

“I’ll see about having a house veterinarian come by.”  

“Well, I’ve actually been hearing quite a bit about a certain veterinarian. I think you’d like them.”  

“Are they on call?”  

“No, they have a well-established practice downtown.”  

“Then I’m not interested.” Jumin stated matter-of-factly. “Taking Elizabeth 3rd outside presents too many risks. She could get hurt, lost or both – or even worse. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen.”  

V’s brows furrowed behind his tinted frames. “They’re apparently one of the best in the country. I hear there’s not a pet they don’t get along with.”  

“I would hope so, being a professional. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s an on-site practice. Any potential danger to Elizabeth 3rd isn’t worth it.”  

“Do you really think I’d recommend something that could hurt Elizabeth 3rd?”  

Jumin jerked his head to V and found himself stumbling over his words, cornered by his own stubborn mind. “What? No, I ah – no of course not.”  

The ends of V’s lips curled up and he knelt down to scratch Elizabeth behind the ears, her quiet purring volume erupting to that of a lawnmower.  

“Then give them a try.”  

Jumin wrinkled his nose. “Why are you so adamant?”  

“Because,” V simpered. “I think you’d like them.”  

Jumin didn’t have to ask the next question for V to know what he was wondering.  

“They’re professional and very devoted to their work,” He rose to his feet and rummaged through his jacket, snagging a crisp, clean card from his pocket. He gave it to Jumin who eyed it curiously.  

“In fact, they remind me of you.”  

Jumin paused. Pawprints bordered the card alongside hearts and a phone number he supposed he had no choice but to call at this point. He hardly saw V enough these days, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him.  

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”  

And so, later that evening, he found himself calling.  

“Loving Paws Animal Hospital, how can I help you?” The voice on the other line was sickeningly sweet and welcoming, as though dipped in honey and soaked in sugar.  

Jumin paused and bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his pride. ”Yes, I’d like to speak to your lead veterinarian?”  

“MC? They’re currently with a client at the moment, but I’d be more than happy to transfer you to their voicemail. Have we seen the pet before?”  

“No. No one has.”  

The secretary must’ve been left at a loss at the stern tone and proclamation, but she did her best regardless against the statue that was Jumin Han.

“So, it’s a new pet?”  

“No.”

“Then… you’re a new client?”  

“Yes. Potentially.”  

Jumin heard an attempt at a stifled snicker and the hospital gained a mental strike in his mind.  

“Okay well, I’ll just go ahead and transfer you to MC’s voicemail. You have a wonderful day, sir!”

That sugary sweetness returned once more, perhaps even more high-pitched than it had been. There was a pause on the other line before your voicemail began. Your voice, in comparison, was light, airy. Jumin could only think of a pleasant song when listening to it – something he found himself falling into.

“Hi this is MC, I can’t get to the phone right now but if you’ll leave a message I’ll do my best to get back to you as soon as I can!”

Despite all the preparedness Jumin thought he might’ve had, he still managed to stumble the second that alerting sound went off.

“I-I ah yes – my name is Jumin Han, and I was considering setting up an appointment for my cat, Elizbeth 3rd. It’s just for an annual exam, though I don’t even think she really needs it she’s in pristine-”

Jumin realized he was rambling and cleared his throat sheepishly.

“Anyways, I was hoping I could ask you some questions before making a final decision. If you would call me back, it’d be appreciated. Thank you.”

Jumin let out a deep sigh and relented to the horrible process of waiting.

You returned the phone call in the evening when the warm oranges, purples, and slightest hues of a deep, murky blue were settling in and spreading overhead. Jumin answered in an instant.

“Hi! Is this Mr. Han?” Your voice was even softer beyond a recorded message. You sounded sweet, but just the tiniest bit tired.

“Yes. MC, isn’t it? I’ve heard many things about you.”

You chuckled. “Good things I hope.”

A smile tugged at Jumin’s face. “Good things only. It has set my expectations high.”

“Well, I’d be delighted to meet those expectations, Mr. Han. Now, what can I do for your Elizabeth 3rd?”

“Technically speaking, there is nothing that’s necessary. Elizabeth 3rd is perfectly taken care of. I simply can’t imagine any problems arising for such a creature.”

“And what kind of perfect creature is she?”

“She is a Persian.”

You thought for a moment, and Jumin could hear a pen tapping against a desk. “Persian cats can have some complications, even if they’re in otherwise perfect living conditions. Unfortunately, it just comes with the breed.”

A sudden twisting of knots appeared in Jumin’s stomach. He tensed. “Such as…?”

“Well, you know their cute little smushed faces? Like pugs their nasal passages are shorter and more susceptible to their environments.”

Jumin opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on like a textbook’s worth of knowledge had just been released.

“And Persians specifically are prone to polycystic kidney disease, and you have to watch out for that because if ignored when they reach eight or nine years old they could suddenly collapse and die-”

You stopped yourself. You might’ve not needed to jump to that immediate conclusion.

“But I uh – it is also perfectly possible that Elizabeth 3rd is in a completely healthy state!”

Jumin was now staring wide-eyed at Elizabeth 3rd who sat uncaringly in the center of the living room. She was grooming herself and only her tail was lightly swaying from side to side across the carpet. She appeared almost serene.

‘They could suddenly collapse and die.”

A pit crumpled in Jumin’s insides.

“When’s the soonest I can come in?”

You laughed nervously. There was a clicking of a computer mouse and a brief moment of silence where you glanced through the schedule. “I can squeeze you in tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Han… are you okay?”

Jumin looked once more at Elizabeth 3rd who now raised her head to meet him. She closed and opened her eyes slowly, mewing.

“I will be when I know Elizabeth 3rd is okay.”

You sighed. “It sounds like Elizabeth 3rd has a very devoted pet parent. She is lucky to have you Mr. Han.”

“I am lucky to have her.”

The call ended soon after with you meekly attempting to assuage his fears, and Jumin beginning to pace about Elizabeth like any cause for concern he’d already miss would simply leap out for a dramatic entrance.

Jumin could now hardly wait for the appointment he considered pointless just hours ago.

V may or may not have received multiple texts of concerns throughout the night. The internet truly did not help the situation.

‘I read online that Persians with blue eyes can have something called Congenital ankyloblepharon. While the website says it’s not deadly, another said it’s linked to a fatal disease.’

‘Because of Elizabeth’s small nasal passage, a website is now telling me Elizabeth will more than likely develop a heart condition. Elizabeth 3rd does not deserve this.’

V had begged him to just wait until tomorrow and Jumin reluctantly agreed.

When the appointment finally arrived, Jumin had made sure Elizabeth would only travel in the best his wealth could provide. However, diamond-encrusted cat carriers apparently took a great deal of time to create, so a polyester and mesh carrier would have to do – lined with sherpa, of course, and filled with her favorite toys.

While Jumin had been anxious and fidgety the entire drive, Elizabeth 3rd was curious, excited even. When Elizabeth was pawing at the mesh lining to peek closer at the car window Jumin was tugging at his sleeves and holding his breath. Even Driver Kim took notice, though his support did little to ease his worries.

He only felt a little ease when he finally arrived at the clinic. The secretary had been stunned at the famous heir’s arrival, but quickly recognized his voice. Her surprise then shifted to amusement, a sly smile stretched across her face.

“Hello Mr. Han! How’re you doing today?”

Jumin furrowed his brow, glancing away. “I am… anticipating my meeting with MC.”

“Stressed for the little lady?” The secretary pointed with her pen to Elizabeth 3rd, now rolled over on her back and playing with one of her toys. This was easily one of her favorite days already.

“Very much so.” Jumin answered.

“We’ll be sure to get you in quick then.”

Jumin nodded hurriedly, and sat down. When his name was called he nearly tripped from how quickly he shot up. It was a… difficult day for maintaining composure.

He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and then proceeded on through the hall where you waited in the consulting room.

He hadn’t quite known what he’d expected when he saw you, but he still found himself without words, if only for a second. Your face was kind, far more than the ones he’d known throughout his life with eyes that offered a sense of comfort to soften the stress so clearly brimming at the surface.

“Hi Mr. Han.” You set a ginger hand on Jumin’s shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I heard you’re feeling a little concerned for Elizabeth 3rd?”

“That is an understatement.”

You folded your lips in thought, drawing your hand away only to lightly clap, determined. “Well I’ve never met an animal I can’t help, and I don’t intend to stop now.”

A bit of the weight dropped from Jumin’s chest. You tapped against the examination table – a heavy counter in the center of the room with a smooth, thick surface.

The room itself was decorated with pictures of animals surrounded by varying degrees of puns. The one the most caught Jumin’s eye was a photo of a cat, tail tucked just over its paws and a sweet expression beneath the words, ‘you’re purrfect.’

He wondered if you chose that one personally. He hoped so.

Jumin unzipped the carrier atop the counter for Elizabeth 3rd to poke out. She only hesitated for a moment before stepping out to greet your hand, fingers outstretched for her to curiously sniff. You beamed at the very sight of her, leaning down as she dipped her head against your hand, eager to be pet.

“Hello, Ms. Elizabeth! Aren’t you beautiful?” You scratched her cheek and her purring began, akin to a lawnmower. “She’s so sweet!”

Jumin watched as you examined her, flashing a light in her eyes and ears, squeezing her tummy for any masses, and flexing her legs for achy joints. Her temperature was normal, not even a rapid heart rate.

“Now I don’t want to stress her out on her first visit but I recommend we do an ultrasound,” You had remarked, rubbing her belly in one of the rare opportunities that a cat not only tolerated such an action but enjoyed it. Elizabeth 3rd was a rare creature indeed. “It’s just to make sure she doesn’t have anything bad developing in her kidneys.” 

“Do you expect there to be anything?” 

Elizabeth pawed playfully at your fingers, pulling them close to rub her cheeks against them when you relented. You had to draw your gaze back to Jumin to keep yourself from becoming distracted. It was rare to see Elizabeth 3rd warming up to someone so quickly. “Do I?” 

You paused, and then laughed. “Of course you’re asking me, I’m sorry! I don’t know what got into me – she’s just such a cutie! But ah – no I don’t. Elizabeth 3rd is as close to perfect as it gets. You weren’t kidding when you said how well she’s taken care of.” 

“She means the world to me.” Jumin hummed, Elizabeth tipping her head to see him and meowing. She almost appeared to smile when he scratched just beneath her chin. 

“May I ask how you found her?” 

Jumin hesitated, remembering the golden hair and slender hands that once held Elizabeth. It brought a pang. 

“She was a gift from someone dear.” 

You could see Jumin’s sadness so easily. You could only make your best effort to soften the hurt. “They must’ve known you two would be perfect for each other.” 

Jumin lifted his head to look up at you, and you smiled. It was gentle, and at that moment, brighter than the very sun. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and it was beautiful. He grinned, if only gently. “Thank you.” 

“Just being honest.” 

The ultrasound was an experience. Jumin thought you had to be lying or attempting a cruel joke when you brought the clippers. There was simply no way you truly could want to ruin Elizabeth’s coat! 

You had promised only the ‘teeny-tiniest’ area would be shaved, but you also promised it’d be cute. Jumin couldn’t completely disagree. 

You had him hold her still during the ordeal, his hands folded over her front legs and keeping her close as you carefully ran the clippers over her stomach. Elizabeth simply rubbed her head against Jumin’s suit. 

“See! Look at that little pink tummy!” You pointed to the now thin white hairs where just between the faintest hints of skin could be spotted. You encouraged Jumin to run his hand over and it was… oddly soft if admittedly strange. 

“There’s no way you don’t think that’s adorable.” You exclaimed. 

“It’s not not adorable. 

That made you laugh. 

The procedure itself was quick and easy. The probe found no problems within Elizabeth’s kidneys and the only issue that arose was Elizabeth 3rd squeaking in surprise at the cold gel spread over her stomach. 

“I’m sorry sweetie, I’ll get this chilly stuff off you quick, okay?” 

You made plenty of little comments like those to Elizabeth 3rd. While many others would hardly regard something as minuscule you took every effort to make Elizabeth 3rd comfortable. Jumin noticed each and every time. You were doting. 

Just as you said, you wiped her clean, only peppering her in pets all over her belly and sides as she could rollover. 

“She is the picture of health, Mr. Han. The only thing I’d recommend is we make these ultrasounds yearly to keep an eye on her – and so I can see her again.” 

Jumin chuckled. “I take it she’s swept you off your feet?” 

“Like she’s my prince charming.” You snickered. “I’m a sucker for pretty kitties.” 

“I’m glad someone else can appreciate Elizabeth 3rd for her perfection.” 

You nodded. “I also appreciate the owner that’s given her the chance to flourish so much.” 

There was a different type of pang in his chest and the tiniest bit of red flickered upon Jumin’s cheeks. Either you didn’t notice, or you didn’t say anything. 

But you smiled. 

“I ah – I might need to bring her in again sooner than her next yearly. I’ve been researching and read of other conditions in her breed that I’d like to look into.” 

You caught on quick. “Right, and we wouldn’t want to overwhelm Elizabeth 3rd with so much on her first visit! It might be best to stretch these concerns over multiple appointments just so we can do the best job possible for her.” 

“And you can teach me what to look out for and how to find them.” Jumin settled Elizabeth 3rd back in her carrier, pawing at you through the mesh, pink pads just barely peeking through. 

“Of course! And you are more than welcome to call! In fact…” 

You tore off a piece of paper from your notes, scribbling quickly before giving it to him. “Here is my personal phone number, for any questions you may have.” 

Jumin smirked and tucked it away in his pocket. “I expect I could find quite a few until our next appointment.” 

You clicked your pen, simpering. “I’ll be patiently waiting, Mr. Han.” 

“Jumin is fine.” He stretched out his hand, palm open. “In fact, allow me to properly introduce myself – we weren’t given the proper chance. I’m Jumin Han. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Warmth reached your cheeks, but you didn’t object, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “MC. The pleasure is all mine. I really do look forward to seeing you again, Jumin.” 

It was rare Jumin could say the same, but for once he did, he truly, truly did. 

“As do I.” 

#Jumin #Anonymous #Jumin Han #Jumin x MC #Jumin Han x MC #MC x Jumin #MC x Jumin Han #Jumin x You #Jumin Han x You #You x Jumin #You x Jumin Han #Jumin x Reader #Jumin Han x Reader #Mystic Messenger #MM #MC #mysmes #mysme #Mystic Messenger Fanfic #Mystic Messenger Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Jumin Fanfic #Jumin Han Fanfic #Jumin Fanfiction #Jumin Han Fanfiction

[super-cool--cow]

Perfect -- Harry Styles

A/N: READ READ READ. I have not been diagnosed with OCD but because of my other mental diagnosis I do experience OCD-like symptoms in certain environments or situations (I have been told by a doctor, not my own words), so this is just my personal experience. I do not speak for anyone who has this diagnosis or struggles with this and I don’t want it to seem like I’m undermining anyone who does struggle with it. I have seen what this diagnosis can do to people and I don’t take that lightly or think that it’s the same as being a perfectionist. If you ever need someone to talk to you can always write to me.

Word count: 708

Summary: You and Harry are going to a party but your mental health gets in the way once again.

Warnings: OCD-like feelings

*not my gif*

Your entire life the need for perfection and symmetry had been a big part of you. If things weren’t in order (either physically or mentally) you would break down. Not in a ‘let me just fix this and everything will be okay’ way, but in a ‘my life will crumble into pieces and my family will be destroyed one way or another if I don’t do this’ kind of way. 

Over the last years you have worked harder than anything, trying to control it and things are going really good. Harry of course has also something to do with it, he help you calm down and is always there for you whenever you need it. But, you still feel that need for perfect crawling its way back inside you whenever you’re stressed or in a bad place (again either physically or mentally). 

Which is how you ended up here, in front of the bathroom mirror, standing in your cocktail dress while cleaning the sink. Well, cleaning probably isn't the right word, you’re more just ruining a sponge while scrubbing it back and forth onto the white ceramic over and over again. 

The sink didn’t actually need to be cleaned, but you had to do something. 

You and Harry are going to a party with his record label tonight and while you were getting ready earlier you dropped your earring. Harry had bought them last year on a tour and you absolutely love them, the blue diamonds perfectly matching your dress for tonight. 

The earring didn’t even roll away or roll under something, it just fell down onto the floor, and yet you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from snapping. The feeling of anger and tension had flown through your veins before you could even stop them. 

You hadn’t felt like this for a long time and it absolutely breaks your heart. You hate the fact that this can still happen to you and it makes you even angrier that it was something so small as dropping an earring that set it off. 

To be fair you hadn’t felt great lately but you figured that you could just push it away, at least until after the party. But that isn’t how it works apparently. 

You scrub and scrub the sink, trying to scrub your feelings away with the dirt (that is long gone by now). The sound of the sponge is the only thing that can be heard in the room and you don’t even notice Harry walking in until his hand is laying on top of yours, stopping the movements. 

“Baby?” he whispers. You don’t say anything, you have no words. “Baby, what happened? You were fine a minute ago.” You breath out and start scrubbing again so that his hand falls away. 

“I was! I- I don’t know, okay! But the earring fell and then it all, and I can’t chill out because... I don't even fucking know! Maybe it’s just because I’m such an awful person who’s just- just not perfect!” The sponges movements accelerates the more you speak. 

Harry’s hands land on both of your arms and he turns you around so that he can look at you. 

“Y/N, baby, you are not an awful person. Not even in the slightest, okay? You just have some things that you struggle with, and that is okay. And when it comes to being perfect, don’t worry. I don’t know a single person in this entire universe who’s perfect. Not a one. Being perfect is not the standard for what being good means. You are absolutely amazing inside and out.” Tears start to stream down your face, you’re not angry anymore, just... exhausted. 

“I just... I don’t know what to do,” you mumble. 

“Baby, you don’t have to do anything right now.”

“But the par-”

“The party is cancelled, that’s why I came in here. The whole company is sick so there’s no party,” he tells you, hugging you close to his chest, before pushing you away a bit and continuing, “So even though you look absolutely stunning in that dress of yours, I would suggest that you go change it out with some sweats and then meet me in the living room, huh? We can watch a movie, eat some pizza, do some other things.” He smirks at you as he says the last part and you can’t help but smile a little. 

He kisses your forehead softly, whispering, “There she is.” 

Here I am...

#fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x reader

[trulivin]

Family Troubles

A/N: Here’s another one finally! (I finished it last night and thought I would be really busy today, BUT I’m free now so I thought it would be good to post it!) To the nonny who requested, I hope this is what you were looking for! Honestly, I don’t know how I feel about this. I’m not saying it’s bad, but I just, I don’t know. I say that about everything I write don’t I lmao. I don’t know if I built their relationship good enough. Please send feedback, comment, like, etc. I do hope you enjoy though! I love writing! It’s so fun! Thanks for the request!

ALSO, this contains another sensitive topic. Mental abuse is real! I’ve experienced it. If you ever find yourself being manipulated by someone that causes you to doubt yourself or anything of that nature, speak up! Mental health is just as important as physical health! Reach out and get the help you deserve because no one deserves to be manipulated into thinking you are worthless! All love!

John B x Reader, Outer Banks

Warnings: Mental Abuse

*This isn’t my gif. Credit goes to original owner*

The Pogues. A term Y/N found dear to her heart. Her best friends. Her biggest supporters. The family she was always looking for. Whenever she was with them, all of her troubles seemed to fade away. They could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. 

And then there was John B. The best type of friend a girl could ask for. Y/N had known him longer than the two had known JJ. Her father and John B’s, before he went missing, were the best of friends automatically making their children become friends. Y/N had spent every waking moment with John B since she could remember. 

As the two got older, there was a point when John B became more than a brother to Y/N. And at some point, John B realized Y/N was a pretty girl. But, as their group went from two to five, a certain rule popped up: no-Pogue-on-Pogue macking. 

Y/N never really minded it. She was still one hundred percent convinced John B still saw her as his sister, and she refused to ruin their lifelong friendship over some silly crush. 

Kie, JJ, and Pope saw right through the girl, on the other hand. They honestly didn’t care if Y/N and John B got together. It would even be a relief to them so they wouldn’t have to put up with the constant longing looks from the pair. Not to mention the subconscious touchy shit that makes JJ gag. 

JJ would constantly bring it up to John B too. Yet, he would, as JJ would say, deny, deny, deny. 

But, regardless of John B and Y/N’s feelings for one another, the Pogues were always having a good time. 

Except when Y/N had to go home and face her real family. 

She never knew why she went back. John B was living without his father and seemed to avoid DCS fairly well. Why couldn’t she?

Yet somehow, she’d always wind up back in her tiny house on the Cut. 

It wasn’t that her home situation was horrible. It just wasn’t great either. After John B’s dad disappeared, Y/N’s father left her and her mother to fend for themselves. For awhile, Y/N and her mom wouldn’t even speak to each other. Y/N never knew why they didn’t speak, but then a week later, a stranger was caught leaving her house in the morning. After that, Y/N’s mother had finally started speaking to her again as more and more men would be caught leaving the house in the morning. 

Sadly, Y/N’s mother had changed. She would lash out at Y/N, telling her how useless she was and how Y/N should be helping her poor mom make money so they could eat. Y/N would take in every word her mom would say and try to explain she was doing little things to help out. The jobs were sporadic but it was something. 

Their arguments would usually result in Y/N storming out of the house, but then getting a call about thirty minutes later from her mom, saying  how sorry she was for saying all those things. She’d go on and on about how Y/N was such a great daughter and how she loved her so much. 

So, Y/N would always come home with the slightest hope that her mother was alright and meant what she said. But, the same thing would happen a few days later, and Y/N would find herself in tears as her mother screamed at her for being incompetent like her father. 

John B had a faint idea that home life for Y/N wasn’t very good. He could read her like a book after all. He could tell something had happened when the crew would be hanging out and Y/N was oddly quiet, but whenever he asked, she would just brush it off. Even Kie, JJ, and Pope could tell when something was wrong, but instead of pushing her, they left Y/N alone. John B, however, thought she shouldn’t be left alone and felt as if she was battling with something mentally. 

His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the little jabs her mother would give towards her daughter that Y/N didn’t even seem to notice. 

John B had swung by Y/N’s place to pick her up on the way to one of Kie’s family Kook events. While he was following Y/N around her room getting her stuff together, her mom had come in. “Where is it you’re going this time?” Y/M/N asked. “An outdoor movie thing that Kie invited us to,” Y/N replied, shoving stuff in her bag. 

“Total Kook stuff, Ms. Y/L/N,” John B added with a small smile. The woman just narrowed her eyes. John B dropped his gaze, slightly confused as to why Y/N’s mother was acting so weird. She had always been so kind and welcoming. 

“When will you be home?” she asked. 

“I don’t know, Mom. Late,” Y/N answered with an irritated ring. 

Y/N’s mother scoffed, “Just like usual. While I’m stuck at home slaving away.” 

John B saw Y/N roll her eyes before standing up straight and facing her mom. “What do you want me to say?” Y/N snapped. “That I should stay here and find someone else who will pay for sex?” 

John B’s gaze shot to Y/N’s at her statement. He didn’t have the slightest idea as to what was going on. 

“Save it, Y/N. I don’t want to hear it. Just go out with your stupid friends. They’re just as useless as you are,” her mother retorted. John B refused to look up at the arguing mother and daughter. 

“Are you kidding me? You’ve known John B for his entire life. You, and I quote, ‘absolutely adore that kid’, and you’re going to act like you hate him!” 

Y/N’s mother glared at her child and Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever. Let’s go,” she said, grabbing John B’s hand and shoving past the woman blocking the door. John B heard Y/N’s mother let out a breath and follow them down the hall. Y/N marched straight to the van with John B trailing after her, still shocked at the scene that had just unfolded before his eyes. 

As they were about to drive off, Y/N’s mother came outside and called in a kind voice, “Be safe, Y/N! I’m sorry!” John B noticed Y/N’s face contort in pain before she shot her mother a small smile. 

As if a switch flipped on in John B’s head, he realized what was happening. And he didn’t like it one bit.

“So,” he started slowly and felt Y/N’s gaze on him, “You’re seriously not mad at her anymore?” “What?” Y/N asked. “Who says I was mad?” 

John B really couldn’t really believe what he was hearing. 

“You were just arguing with your mom,” John B replied.

“Oh, that. That wasn’t arguing. Just a normal day in the Y/L/N household,” Y/N let out a strained laugh. John B looked at the girl with concern swimming in his eyes. “Y/N,” he said softly, “Does your mom do this a lot?”

“What call me useless, incompetent, stupid, but then says she loves me? I mean I suppose,” she mumbled. John B’s jaw clenched. “That’s not right,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road. “She still loves me,” Y/N said defensively. 

“She says she does, but--” John B started but was cut off.

“Just drop it okay?” Y/N snapped, “I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

John B glanced at Y/N and saw her looking out the window, signalling that this conversation was over. He didn’t like it, but he kept his mouth shut anyways. 

Ever since that day, John B tried talking to his best friend and show her how abusive her mother really was. But, Y/N refused to listen to him. She didn’t want to hear it because she wanted to believe she still had her mom after her father left. 

Until one day, Y/N finally heard all of John B’s concerns in her mind. 

Y/N had just gotten back from a day out with the Pogues, and her mother had already brought a new guy home. The teenager walked in on her half naked mother and stranger on the couch. “Oh god!” Y/N shouted, covering her eyes. 

“What the hell?” the guy shouted at her mom. “Who is this?”

Y/N’s mother glared at her daughter and gritted her teeth, “This is my daughter.” 

“You never told me you had kids! Geeze how old are you?” the man said, shoving Y/M/N off of him and grabbing his clothes. “Wait, don’t!” Y/N’s mom called after the guy who was storming out. 

Y/N still stood there in shock. She wasn’t prepared for the storm that was about to enter the home. As soon as her mother came back in, she started screaming. 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Y/N’s mom shouted. 

“I live here!” Y/N snapped back, her temper rising. 

“You little brat! You are always coming around when you aren’t wanted!”

“Mom! How was I supposed to know you were having someone over?” Y/N said. 

“Oh don’t play dumb,” her mother rolled her eyes, “You never approved of what I did. You’re just trying to sabotage me! All I’m doing is trying to help keep a roof of your head and food on the table! You don’t appreciate anything I do for you!”

Y/N was so confused. “You’re making no sense!” she screamed trying to hold back her tears of anger. “I appreciate everything you do! I was helping Heyward with grocery deliveries today! I was tipped big! I was trying to help!” 

“You never do anything helpful! All you do is go out with your stupid little boyfriend and friends! You’re the most worthless person I have ever met!” her mom screamed.

With every insult she spat at her daughter, Y/N felt a knife twist in her heart, and John B’s words echo in her head. Your mom may not be physically abusing you but she still is abusing you. Y/N, you need to get out of there. 

“God, you’re the worst daughter someone could have asked for! You worthless piece of shit! Are you listening to me?” Y/N’s mom screamed, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. Y/N shrunk back in fear. “I wish you were the one who left instead of your father,” Y/N’s mom hissed. 

Y/N felt as though a boulder had crushed her heart. Tears flowed down her face as she shoved her mom off of her. Her mom’s face immediately fell as she realized what she said. “No, sweetie, I didn’t mean it,” her mom tried touching Y/N’s arm, but the girl jerked away. 

Y/N had a look of horror written across her face. How could she do a complete 180? Y/N thought to herself. 

“Y/N, baby. You know I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

“No you don’t,” Y/N cried, backing away from her mother. “You’re sick. I’m sorry your husband left you, but that’s no reason to take your pain out on your child. You’re supposed to protect me! I lost a father too! But you, you just act like a complete idiot!” 

“No, sweetie--” Y/N’s mother started.

“I wish you were the one who left! Better you than Dad!” 

And then Y/N ran. 

She didn’t know where she’d go, but she knew she just needed to go anywhere but her home. Y/N let her legs carry her subconsciously and somehow wound up on the porch of the Chateau. Sobs racked her body as she collapsed on the ground.

John B opened the door expecting an animal or burglar but looked down to see a sobbing Y/N. 

“Hey, hey, what happened?” John B said immediately, scoping her up in his arms, bringing her inside. 

He went to set her down on the couch, but Y/N clung on to him and cried harder. John B sat down with her in his lap, a hand wrapped around her waist and head as he let her cry. John B knew what happened. He knew something like this was coming. Her mother must’ve said some awful thing and Y/N must’ve finally seen what was really going on. 

“Shhh,” John B soothed as Y/N cried harder. “Whatever she said to you is a lie. You’re worth it. You’re worth something,” John B whispered in her ear. Y/N seemed to quiet a bit at the sound of his voice so John B continued. 

“You’ve always been perfect, Y/N,” he said. John B didn’t really know where he was getting these words from. He never admitted his feelings for Y/N to JJ, but now, now he just knew he couldn’t deny it any longer. She needed to know that someone still loved her. 

“You’re always putting everyone’s happiness first, so when she says you’re useless or incompetent, she’s wrong. You’re a selfless, beautiful girl.” 

Y/N’s heart began pounding out of her chest as she listened to John B’s words. 

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” John B continued, “but she doesn’t love you. She’s not your family anymore. You have other people who love you. JJ, Kie, Pope. And me.” Y/N had stopped crying at this point. Does he mean it more than a friend?

“I,” John B hesitated, “I love you. And I think everyone has known that except you.” 

John B fell silent after that, holding his breath. He had no idea what Y/N would do. Y/N slowly lifted her head off of his chest and looked up at him. John B’s eyes were full of concern, but a little apprehension. He was waiting for her to say something. 

Instead, she leaned up, pressing her lips to his. John B instantly kissed her back. The kiss was sweet and slow. Y/N felt a warmth spread throughout her body as his grip tightened around her frame. She finally felt at home. Never in a million years did she think she would be kissing the boy who put sand in her hair as little kids. 

When they broke apart, Y/N’s mouth quirked up, “I love you too, John Booker Rutledge.” John B grinned and pulled her back in for another kiss. She moaned quietly as he bit down on her lip causing his hands to grip her waist a little tighter. Soon enough, Y/N found herself straddling John B. 

Her hands found the bottom of his t-shirt and began tugging at it. However, he quickly grabbed her wrists to stop her. “Wait, wait,” he said, pulling away. Y/N pouted a bit. “We aren’t doing this right now.” “Why not?” Y/N whined a bit. 

“You just ran away from home,” John B replied. 

“So?”

“Y/N,” he said with a stern voice, “You need to tell me what happened. Now is not the night for us to be ignoring this and you know it.” 

Y/N contemplated his words for a moment, but reluctantly agreed. They resituated themselves to where she was laying on his chest while his arm was around her waist again. 

“Well,” Y/N started slowly, “I came home and found my mom with another man. The man flipped out cause I guess my mom lied about her age and about having kids. And then she proceeded to blow up at me. Kept telling me how I was trying to sabotage her work and how I was worthless. The usual nonsense you know.” 

John B nodded in the dark and gave her a squeeze telling her to continue. 

“And,” Y/N paused, “and then she said she wished it was me who left instead of Dad.”

John B’s heart sank. “But then,” Y/N continued, “It was like she flipped a switch. She claimed she didn’t mean it and that she loved me. I didn’t believe her this time so that’s when I ran.”

Y/N shifted so she could look at the boy. John B had a mixed look of anger and sadness on his face. “Y/N,” he started, “you’re not going back there.” And for once, Y/N listened to him. “Ok.” John B was slightly surprised, but mostly relieved she didn’t try to defend her mother. 

Y/N laid back down and closed her eyes as John B started speaking again.

“You don’t know how much you are loved. Especially me, but the group. JJ would fall apart if you weren’t here, and Kie and Pope, you know how much they care about you. Don’t let anyone tell you you are nothing because you are far from it. I promise you. You are worth everything to me. Promise me you won’t ever doubt yourself,” John B said. 

Y/N smiled in the darkness. “I promise, John B.” He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her even closer as she finally drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning, the two were woken up by a very loud voice. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” JJ smirked. Y/N curled into John B’s chest mumbling something about killing JJ for waking her up. 

“Leave them be JJ,” Kie’s voice snapped softly. “Thanks Kie,” John B groaned, slinging his arm over his face to block out the sunlight. 

“Let’s go, we’ll meet up later,” Kie said before John B heard the porch door open and close. 

“Congrats man,” JJ added kindly before slipping outside after Kie. “I love you,” Y/N mumbled before her soft snores filled the room again. John B grinned like an idiot and whispered, “I love you too my sweet girl,” before he slipped back into a comfortable sleep.

_____________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed! More fics coming soon! And feel free to send in requests! Xoxo

#outer banks imagines #john b imagine #john b x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj #pope #kiara #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #john b imagines #imagine #fandom imagine #obx #obx imagines #multifandom imagine #john b fic #john booker rutledge #chase stokes #madelyn cline #madison bailey #rudy pankow #johnathan davis

[elucere]

Sad Late August Quarantine Thoughts 2.0

Last year, I wrote this. Basically my thoughts on how I felt in my life up to that point and what quarantine had illuminated. It felt cathartic then, so hopefully it’ll feel cathartic now. A part of that probably had to do with the fact that the last part was complete bullshit, but we’ll get into that later.

At nearly the slightest inconvenience now, I’ll say “I’m at my limit”. Technically, that isn’t really true because if I was really at my limit, at the next inconvenience I would completely lose it. But no, I’m just simply reminding myself that while I’m constantly met with a series of unfortunate events, I haven’t broken down yet. I might feel like I’m there, but I’m not. I’m just at my limit. Things are bad, but they aren’t the worst they could be yet. So keep in mind, I am very much at my limit as I’m writing this.

Last year I talked about my struggles with my job. Yeah, I got fired in February. It was not pretty either. I knew I wasn’t doing well performance wise, and they invited me into a zoom call that they said was a project meeting a week before my year anniversary and fired me. My supervisor (or I guess, ex-supervisor) cried on call. I didn’t cry until afterwards. It was an entire year of me trying to get better, him promising that it’ll come with time, and then getting sacked because “we didn’t see improvements”. Really, really fucking sucked. And it messed with me for a long time because I kept replaying those last few weeks, trying to decipher what I could’ve done differently to prove my worth and keep my position. There was a lot. I felt really guilty.

I think the worst part is that I got a performance warning in December and realized at that point I’d become so apathetic about my job that I needed professional help. I’d been trying to go to therapy for a long time, but it never panned out. My mom forbade it when I was in high school, it was practically impossible to get an appointment at my college’s mental health facility unless you were considered a threat to yourself and others (which I most certainly did not want on my record), and after school life happened so fast with the pandemic and the fact that I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my mom and my brother with very little privacy. Even now that I’ve convinced my mom that therapy is okay, actually, she still highly disproves and sees it as some sort of psychological failing on my part. Which is. Sure. Whatever. Why not.The reason I did not enroll in therapy that December is actually because my dad lost his job and with it, his health insurance, and with that, my health insurance. That means I had to enroll in a health plan through my employment, which became an unanticipatedly long process. I actually got my new-but-useless health insurance card in the mail a few days after I got fired. They actually fired me on the last day of the month, so my benefits wouldn’t extend beyond that month. That’s a bit of fun irony.

To quite a few of my friends, this story solidified the idea that insurance=therapy. As soon as I got insurance again, I’d be able to finally get some help. This was a couple of people’s first response to me when I got hired again (yay, I know I don’t have to worry about that anymore but I’m also afraid that I’ll just inevitably be fired again so I don’t let myself have the victory). I know my friends only want the best for me, and I can’t expect them be able to emotionally support me like a professional, but I’m afraid that they think that therapy will  be some sort of magical fix of sorts. I don’t mean in the sense of just getting better mentally, but I think being a tolerable person. I know that sounds like I’m just being self-depreciating, but let me explain.

A few years ago I was at dinner with one of my friends. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about, but she goes “name three things you actually like” because I was probably being negative or something. I said a few things and whatever, but that comment stuck with me for a long time. I thought it was especially poignant or something. Am I so unhappy all the time because I fixate on things I don’t like? It could be connected to the attitude of social media to be outwardly negative. Casual wisdom, you know.

Well, that was the fact until I was out with that same friend and we visited Barnes and Noble. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading this year and got more involved in the book community, so I have many Opinions. Some are good, some are bad, some are just me being annoying. After an hour of browsing the shelves, we drive home. I start talking about a series I really like in the car and she goes “It’s nice to hear you talk about a book you actually like.” Which kind of stunned me because I had just did a lot of talking about books I liked. How happy I was that kids were still reading Rangers Apprentice, going out of my way to see how many Brandon Sanderson books I could find in the Adult Fantasy section, and more reminiscing in the Young Adult section about books I liked recently or as a teen. The truth is, I talk about stuff I like all the time to people who will listen. Ask me about my favorite books! My favorite movies! My favorite musicals! I promise I will not shut up. It’s one of the few things I have that lift my spirits when I talk about it, I just don’t get the opportunity to much because it’s hard to find people who want to listen.

The thing is, I’m naturally a critical person, I think. I love tearing things apart, in good and bad ways. I also love gossip. I’m an okay gossip, but I know at this point that I’m a good critic. I’m really good at identifying faults and commenting them on an insightful or constructive way. I edit a lot of my friends’ writings for this reason. I don’t find that to be anything negative, it’s just something that’s interesting to me. Basically what I’m saying is, what if it’s not mental illness and I’m just annoying and I’ll not be able to meet the expectations of other people’s idea of progress for me and I’ll be a disappointment. I’m kind of tearing up while typing that out while listening bopping to Disturbia by Rihanna but this is the third time I’ve been on the verge of crying today so yaknow maybe it is just mental illness.At this point, I can either talk about criticism in relation to the particular way I dish it, or I could talk about how I want to receive it. I think the former will take less time to elaborate, so I’ll start with that.

I mention last year how I got an unpaid gig as a critic for DiscussingFilm. Embarrassing at times, I joke with my friends that “DiscussingFilm Writer” is a slur, but it’s cool at times as well. I got a press pass to go to Sundance and gorged on an entire family sized bag of peanut M&Ms while I watched like 14 movies in one weekend. I’m trying to say positive things about this until I start ragging to prove that I’m not an overwhelmingly negative person, but I don’t think that’s working well. Whatever. The point is, if I didn’t like it I would quit, but if I did quit it wouldn’t be because I didn’t like it. It would because there was an…event. I had quite a falling out with one of the higher-ups that run the site and in response my work has taken a hit. I won’t go into too much detail, but I don’t get assigned anticipated releases anymore. My work is often delayed going out and, in turn, I feel less motivated to turn in my work on time. And then on top of that, it’s rarely promoted. I have examples on top of examples, but this stupid thing is getting long enough. To summarize the DiscussingFilm situation, I feel like shit. I have one of the lowest view counts on the site. I’m told that my work is good and it’s valued, but not enough to get reposted, I guess! Why bother. And also because the person I do not work well with is quite up in the food chain, I’ll never see a promotion. I wanted to become an editor so bad (I do editing on the side for my friends and enjoy it), but now it will never ever happen. I don’t have the opportunity to prove myself, it’s just completely off the table by nature of leadership. Ass. Complete ass. I’m doing quite a bit of work for DiscussingFilm including creating the standard for the Instagram, making graphics for the Instagram, performing interviews and writing reviews for the site, and co-hosting a DiscussingFilm branded podcast, and I will never see neither a dime for my work or recognition in any meaningful or significant way. I don’t have a say in anything, and I feel like an insignificant cog whose opinion does not mean much.

I still get insecure with my reviews, but not as much anyways. Sure, I can’t compare to the great writers at trades who do this for a living and have been doing so for years. But, I am better than a lot of writers at my level. Sometimes I try pitching to other publications, but so far I’ve only been met with rejection. It kinda stings to know that my work is not worth enough to be paid for, but I’m kinda over it. I still pitch. I try my best. That’s the thing about me, I just keep going. Rejection hurts like a bitch, but whatever. I don’t want to quit just yet, so I guess I won’t. There isn’t anyone in my corner who’s actively spurring me to keep going, I’ve just decided that I’ll get paid for my work one day and so now I will.This connects with the criticism I want to receive which unfortunately very much is not of the nonfiction variety. Ew I fucking hate talking about this but I need to get it off my chest.

After I got fired, I was slipping into quite a bit of a depression. I started a podcast at this time with my friend to try and prevent that, but I knew that I probably needed another project. I wasn’t watching movies anymore, DiscussingFilm was not publishing my shit, and all I was doing all day was reading (which I don’t anymore, I’m in a slump and it’s definitely connected to the idea I have in the next sentence). So I had the brilliant idea of “hey, I could do that. I could write a book. I should do it to do it.”You see, this has not been my only attempt at writing a proper book. I tried when I was 13, I tried when I was 15 and into online literate roleplay, I tried when I was 18 by doing NaNoWriMo in college (also, I was actually more depressed then). I also tried to get into a short story class in college that you had to submit a story to get into and didn’t even make it on the waitlist. Nothing stuck. But hey, I was unemployed and I came up with a funny premise that I wasn’t too attached to, so why not?

The book is not funny. It was supposed to, but it’s changed a lot. I’m very comfortable writing in camp. It’s difficult because I know sometimes I have my moments, but often I don’t. I also chose to write it in a genre I’m not super familiar with (Young Adult contemporary, I read Young Adult and Adult fiction primarily). I didn’t expect it to be easy, but the things I thought would come easily did not come easily. I have a lot of male friends, so I could certainly write the male characters as real people, right? Right? I’m funny, so the humor would come across well, right? Did I anticipate that after years of pretty much only analyzing films critically I’d subconsciously structure my story using dialogue-driven storytelling similar to a screenplay? No! Not at all, actually! This journey of self-discovery has been ass at every corner!

I recognize that first drafts are shit and authors hate their writing, but also I’m built different, your honor. By 15k words in, I realized I needed an outside perspective. I hated my own writing and I was afraid none of the characters were coming off right. I needed feedback, and I still do. But I hate being perceived. As long as no one reads my writing, they think that I know what I’m talking about and value my opinion on their writing, but once they figure out I’m just an Imposter then it’s game over. They’ll lose respect for me. Logically, I know this isn’t how this works, but I feel physically nauseous whenever someone reads my writing.

Anyways, back to my much-needed criticism. To make a long story short involving several English teacher that caused me to quit pursuing writing altogether in my formative years and decide to switch to a STEM track, I have very little tangible self-awareness of my own writing and how to improve it. I need the outside feedback, or at least I did. I’m 60k words into my first draft now and I’m cripplingly self aware of all my errors, but it feels too little too late. 60k words are a lot of words, and it feels not great knowing that most of them are trash. I really needed this kind of feedback earlier in the process so I could make tweaks early on. I know that writing is like a muscle and you need to work it out and practice to get stronger, but fuck man, FUCK. 60k words is a LOT of words. And I still need people to read it and give me feedback and I’m literally willingly asking people to read shit. It’s so humiliating. I guess I’m just at a point where I wish I could look at it and find something of value in what I’ve written.

I see other authors and I get so jealous. At their confidence, at their lyricism, their mastery of the art, their enthusiasm for their story, their love of their characters. I don’t have that. I’m not even talking about imposter’s syndrome. I know what that feels like. This is something else. I just wish I was the kind of person who could openly be creative without wanting to die. I’m 100% sure if I could be enthusiastic about the story I want to tell, the entire thing would be better. It’s crazy how I noticed that I’m not writing any metaphors into realizing that’s directly connected with my inability to be vulnerable and that I’m detaching myself from my work. That, and the fact that I’m fucking shite at writing metaphors apparently.

It also doesn’t help that I don’t have a writer group of friends and very little people to talk about this with, none of which are like… enthusiastic. It’s not their fault. I attract people into my life who are very much like me. They’re supportive and wonderful but I need someone who’d be excited to talk to me about it. I just feel like such a huge burden all the time. Everytime I bring it up I feel terrible, but it’s occupying so much of my brain space and I have no outlet. But also, getting that group of friends would require me to be vulnerable online and be willing to share what I have so far which I might actually throw up.I think it’s very fun that “crying and throwing up” has become a saying on Twitter considering that I’ve counted a countless amount of times this year and thrown up from stress four times since last November. It might also be connected to coffee consumption, but if that’s true I’m ready to off myself because coffee is one of my few joys. Honestly, it’s probably a mix of both. I’m very healthy, very much okay.

I don’t know. Last year, I ended my little essay on a hopeful note. Here’s the thing, this may seem like very much just stream of consciousness bullshit but there is quite a bit of structuring I do and omissions I make. I didn’t talk about my struggles reconnecting with people and subsequently taking their irregular replies, because there’s a lot to get into there. There’s a lot I could’ve talked about, but no room. There’s a very specific flow, and I feel like any story, it needs a conclusion. So last year, through tears, I wrote a hopeful ending. It was as much for me as it was to the people reading it. Unfortunately, I don’t have it in it for me to conclude in the same fashion this time around.

The truth is, I need to feel okay. I need to feel like I’m good at something, anything, and be recognized for it.

Life is suffering and I’m just constantly going through the motions. I promise you, this stupid thing is 3k words and the second I’m done I’ll go back to working on my b**k even though today I literally started crying thinking about how shit it is. I’m just a tenacious individual. I persist. I don’t feel good about it, and I’m done with being genuinely hopeful, but there’s nothing to do but keep moving. I don’t know if my writing will get better or if I’ll ever get published or if this story is worth it. I don’t fucking know anything and I feel like shit. But what else am I going to do? I’ve been holding onto this hope that I’ll feel better about things for just so long and it hasn’t happened. But I’m not giving up lmao I’m just working with what I have. I am at my limit.

#mine #bean spews

[nerdybookworm25]

Rambling about Katara and Zutara

Ok so I’m going to kind of just put my two cents out there on this stuff. I joined the ATLA fandom this past summer and just started watching TLOK (my brother and I just finished Book 2 yesterday). This is a hot debate and I just want to ramble on about my opinions on this stuff. A lot of this will focus on Katara’s perspective because I can understand her better than Zuko or Aang due to personal experience. Im just... gonna... get into it now...

I’ll give you some background on me so you guys can understand where I’m coming from. I’m a 15 year old girl with abandonment issues caused by multiple deaths of close friends and family at a young age (my uncle when I was 4, a grandmother like figure when I was 7, my dad’s mum when I was 9 or 10, my great grandma when I was 11, a close friend of my dad’s when I was 13 and many others). I also am the Mum Friend (my friends literally call me “Mum”). I’m the caregiver of the group- the glue, the harmonizer, the therapist, the teacher, the good advice giver etc. (This stuff actually hot me in trouble as a kid and it kind of messed me up). My friends who have seen Avatar have compared me to Katara on multiple occasions and say I’ve got the temperament of a waterbender. You can kind of see where I’d relate, you know?

I do ship Zutara. My brother turned to me during the Book 1: Water- Episode 9~ The Waterbending Scroll and asked, “What if Zuko becomes a good guy and ends up with Katara?” From then on I was on the Zutara hill and I’ll probably die there. It limited ships that I loved from childhood and I thought it would hav been really cool- it would have fit the themes of the show, it would have been a cool thing to see grow and blossom, etc. It had nothing to do with Katara and Zuko being attractive at all- not in the slightest. It also wasn’t me projecting onto Katara. I didn’t really care to notice any major similarities between us until Book Three: Fire- Episode 7~ The Runaway. It was this exchange that changed Katara from my favorite character to someone I could heavily relate to.

Toph: [Sarcasically.] Oh really, Mom? Or what are you gonna do? Send me to my room?

Katara: I wish I could!

Toph: well you can’t! Because you’re not my mom, and you’re not their mom! [Extends her arm at Aang and Sokka, who are sitting on a ledge.]

Katara: I never said I was!

Toph: No, but you act like it! You think it’s your job to boss everyone around, but it’s not! You’re just a regular kid like the rest of us! Stop acting like you can tell me what to do! I can do whatever I want!

I remember bursting out laughing when I heard this. My brother asked me what was up and I paused it and explained that that was a lecture I revived so regularly when I was younger. It really really ended up messing me up. It’s not like I tried to mother anyone- it just happened. I wasn’t controlling it. I didn’t notice I was doing it and I got in trouble. Now things are different and I’ve embraced the fact that I am the designated Mum Freind. Still working on getting over being told off about it in therapy though. Anyway, I think you now can understand where I’m coming from with this “analysis.” Now I’m going to get into it (for real this time lol).

I think I’m going to start with the caregiver stuff. Katara’s mother died when she was very young. It was a very traumatic death. We can infer that Katara blamed herself for this death because the Southern Raiders were looking for the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe- her. That’s a lot for an 8 year old to try to process. Here’s the kicker: I don’t think she ever fully processed it until after Book 3: Fire- Episode 16~ The Southern Raiders. She almost immediately helped her grandmother take up the roll as the woman of the house. She probably didn’t feel like she had anyone to talk to about what she was feeling however true or false that’s what she most likely perceived this to be. When Hakoda leaves for war with all of the men of the tribe, Kanna might be the matriarch and help raise Sokka and Katara but even Sokka admits that Katara became a pseudo-mother for him. Taking care of others doesn’t leave a lot of time to deal with your own issues. Sometimes it feels easier to help others face their demons than face your own.

We continue to see Katara become the glue of the Gaang as the series progresses. She keeps them together in the Si Wong desert after Aang leaves her, Sokka, Toph, and Momo. She’s always the one cooking, cleaning, and mending not because she wants to, but because she knows no one else will do it and it needs to be done. We see her try to coax Toph into helping out around camp when she firsts joins the Gaang. It doesn’t work and this conflict continues for most of Book 2 and the beginning of Book 3. All of this time, she’s making it a point to take care of everyone. When the adults show up after the Boiling Rock, she’s still the one making the dinner and probably does a lot of the other chores as well (except for tea making- this will come into play later).

There’s a running joke about Katara being “Momtara” within the ATLA fandom (more the Zutaraians in the fandom than anything else but it’s a pretty well known concept). We continue to see this when the Gaang is on Ember Island. She brings them all drink during training sessions, watches said training sessions in case someone gets hurt and they need her, wrangles Sokka to the best of her ability, and just generally looks out for everyone regardless of age gap. It’s her natural instinct to be motherly. She retains this quality even after she finds Yon Rha. (Getting closure on her mother’s death doesn’t mean losing what had become a major personality trait).

Let’s unpack that now, shall we? Kya dies and Katara thinks it’s her fault. She doesn’t really talk to anyone about it. A few years later, Hakoda leaves to fight in the war. The Southern Water Tribe recives no letters or news about what happened to their warriors at all. Katara felt like she lost another parent. She nearly says as much during Book 3: Fire- Episode 1~ The Awakening.

Hakoda: You’re taking about me too, aren’t you?

Katara: How could you leave us, Dad? [She attempts to wipe away the tears.] I mean, I know we had Gran-Gran, and she loved us, but we were just so lost without you.

Hakoda moves to comfort her as she turns away.

Hakoda: I’m so sorry, Katara.

Katara: [Embraces Hakoda.] I understand why you left. I really do, and I know that you had to go, so why do I still feel this way? I’m so sad and angry and hurt!

The thing that sets off this exchange is Aang running away for the third time since Katara has known him (the fourth time in Aang’s lifetime). The other times he ran were when confronted by the rude fisherman in Book 1: Water- Episode 12~ The Storm, then again during Book 2: Earth- Episode 11~ The Desert. Aang has a, for lack of a better word, chronic running away problem. I’m not mad at him for it. It makes him an interesting character and shows that he too has flaws (even if they aren’t always addressed but that’s an issue with Bryke). When Aang flys away after waking up during 3.1, Katara is distraught.

Katara: He left.

Hakoda: What?

Katara: Aang. He just took his glider and disappeared. He has this ridiculous notion that he has to save the world alone, that it’s all his responsibility.

Hakoda: Maybe that’s his way of being brave.

Katara: Its not brave, it’s selfish and stupid! We could be helping him and I know the world needs him, but doesn’t he know how much we need him, too? How can he just leave us behind?

Katara feels abandoned by Aang. This is completely understandable. She has every right to be angry at him and feel sad that he flew away. He comes back every time but I feel like if I were in her position, as much as I’d hope my friend would come back and I’d tell everyone that I knew he would, I’d still be afraid that there was an off chance that he doesn’t. This is a natural human reaction to this situation. People were seemingly constantly fading in and out of Katara’s life and that just wasn’t good for her mental health. It couldn’t have been. This also raises the question of if someone has a very serious fear of abandonment, would it be healthy to be in a romantic relationship with someone who consistently leaves? Personally I don’t think so. Be friends? Sure. Date? I don’t know. It doesn’t quite sit right with me.

Katara probably feels abandoned by Zuko too. During the Book 2 Finale: Crossroads of Destiny, Katara and Zuko bond in the crystal catacombs under Ba Sing Se. They relate over their shared fear of being abandoned by those they love (yes I think Zuko has abandonment issues too- among other issues/fears). When he turns his back on her, she doesn’t live him (obviously). She has cared about him enough up to that point to offer to use what is arguably her most powerful possession to heal his scar. She cares. Because she cares about him then, she is downright livid when he betrays her. (Of course the difference between Zuko and Aang with this is Zuko leaves once and comes back and he doesn’t leave again. Aang leaves and comes back over and over and over again).

Katara: I thought you had changed!

Zuko: I have changed!

Katara carries the weight of his betrayal on her mind until she and Zuko go on their life changing field trip to confront the man who killed Katara’s mother. This was her time to finally get closure. She had probably had these feelings bottled up for 6 years and didn’t act on them. When she finally had the chance, her best friend and brother tried to stop her. She lashed out.

Katara: We’re going to find the man who took my mother from me.

Sokka pauses and stands up, surprised.

Zuko: Sokka told me the story of what happened. I know who did it and I know how to find him.

Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?

Katara: [Shakes her head in dismay.] Ugh, I knew you wouldn’t understand. [Begins to walk away.]

Aang: Wait! Stop! I do understand. You’re feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do you think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?

Zuko: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice.

Aang: I don’t think so. I think this is about getting revenge.

Katara: [Angrily.] Fine, maybe it is! Maybe it’s what he deserves!

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.

Katara: Its not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he’s a monster.

Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.

Katara: Then you didn’t love her the way I did!

Sokka: [Hurt.] Katara!

Katara gets a lot of flack for this interaction. She says Sokka didn’t love their mother like she did and Sokka I’d understandably hurt. It doesn’t excuse what she said, but people do lash out when they are feeling a lot of emotions and they get defensive when they feel like they’re being ganged up on or attacked (I myself am guilty of this sort of thing). What Katara said was wrong but I have no doubt in my mind that she didn’t apologize to Sokka when he and the rest of the Gaang arrive on Ember Island later in the episode. She is seen walking over to him after she hugs Zuko.

Zuko and Katara go after Yon Rha anyway. For once in her life, Katara is feeling emotions and no one is trying to get her to stop or to push them aside. She doesn’t have to be constantly taking care of someone so she can focus on herself. Katara trusts Zuko more than I think she realizes. I mean she trusts him with a lot and he follows through on a lot of unspoken/subconscious agreements and promises.

Zuko is looking out for her. Zuko has her back. Zuko is allowing her to feel all of these emotions and work them out of her own accord. Zuko isn’t telling her to feel one way or another. Zuko isn’t going to judge her for whatever she decides to do when they find Yon Rha or what she does in order for them to get to that point. Zuko ensures she gets the closure she feels she needs.

When he sees her bloodbend, he’s surprised, but he isn’t appalled. When he thinks she’s going to run Yon Rha through with a giant shard of ice, he doesn’t try to stop her. He lets her be her. He sees a dark side of her in a way that no one else in the Gaang has seen. It’s strangely intimate. Clearly it has enough of an impact to make her forgive him. She knows he isn’t going to abandon betray her and her friend again.

Once they become friends, and even before that, Zuko starts to help out with small things here and there. We see him making tea for all of the kids at dinner. He tells jokes to make them laugh. He teaches Aang firebending. He goes with Sokka to the Boiling Rock to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed or in a prison cell for the rest of his life. With all of this, “Dadko” is born.

If you strip away Zuko’s anger, he just becomes the awkward-turtleduck-first-time-father that we all know and love. There’s more balance in the Gaang with him there to help and become an “authority” figure with Katara. They become the parents of the other members of the Gaang. It’s an interesting shift in their relationship- enemies to unsteady acquaintances to enemies to frenemies to friends. They’re close enough that they show small signs of physical intimacy and they tease each other.

Also if you look close enough when the Gaang walks into the “seedy Earth Kingdom tavern,” Zuko and Katara appear to be holding hands and are near each other from then until the finale episodes. They are clearly just great friends by the end of the show. I mean Zuko also takes a bolt of lightning to the chest for her...

Zuko doesn’t leave when his life gets difficult- not after he joins the Gaang. He made that mistake once and he won’t make it again. Aang was always part of the Gaang but continued to leave (again, I’m not mad at him for it but he never seems to realize the effect it has on the people around him- especially Katara). Zuko also doesn’t all but forget Katara and continue to run around the world. When Zuko fully decides to stick around, you best believe he is sticking around.

This works really well for Zutara. They’re both each other’s rock. They support each other and help each other in times of trouble. Do they argue? Yes. Is that a normal part of a healthy relationship- romantic or otherwise? Yes. Do they take care of and look out for each other while also not smothering or suffocating each other? Yes. I don’t know about you but this sounds stable and healthy to me. They balance each other out so well (I’m not going to get too into that because if you’re reading this you probably already know with the whole Tui and La, Yin and Yang, Oma and Shu thing).

Now, this is a big deal for me and it makes me furious, but Katara is forgotten by history. She has no statue. She is reduced to a housewife and healer- things our wonderful water feminist was afraid of becoming as an adult. I mean this girl

This girl

THIS GIRL

She becomes nothing but a housewife stuck in a healing hut who gets forgotten by the world and left behind by her family just... let’s all of that happen? Yeah that’s pretty unrealistic. I think about this frequently and with starting TLOK I have formed even more opinions and have a little thingy (I don’t know what to call it) for what happened to her.

Kya II is everything Teenage Katara wanted to do and be before settling down. Old Katara is everything Teenage Katara was so afraid of become reduced to/becoming.

It’s an interesting way to think about it and I thought I’d share. Now if Katara was Fire Lady, she wouldn’t end up like that. She’d have the power to change the world and continue to fight for what she believed in. She could have helped with the trail with Yakone. Katara has so much potential to not be forgotten or brushed aside and somehow it happened. It makes me so sad. The potential Zutara had to make sure Katara had a genuine legacy was right there at their finger tips and they didn’t use it. What a shame. What a shame.

With all of the things I’ve talked about, I just feel like Zutara would have been better for Katara than Kataang was. I think that’s more Bryke not developing the relationship well enough and instead choosing to be sloppy and selfish in the way they structured the relationship. Yeah this is my rambling on about the issue. Hope it was mildly entertaining! If you want me to write something about how Zuko would have benefited from Zutara, let me know!

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #love #katara #zutara #gaang #romance #tlok #lok #the legend of korra #legend of korra #Kya #Hakoda #kya ii #Aang #fire lady katara #fire lord zuko #Zuko #anti bryke #zutaralove #zutara forever #zutara fandom #zutara meta #atla analysis #ships #otp #fire and water #yin and yang #oma and shu

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

For the Fairy tale au what about yandere prince!giorno with cinderella!reader? Giorno could convince everyone he's rescuing them from their life. Or you could do yandere prince giorno with sleeping beauty reader, where reader doesn't wake up after being kissed, instead waking up in the palace chained up. Naturally if you don't like this request feel free to ignore it, or if you want to use other characters that's fine too. I hope you feel better soon! Your mental health is important!

Thanks for your support anyway here it is.

Prince charming

(yandere Giorno Giovanna X Female Reader)

You were always a happy and humble girl. You always looked towards the bright side of any situation, even after all the hardships you had faced. To you every day was a new beginning

You let out a sigh as you wiped the sweat off your forehead and marveled at the marble floor that you had spent hours cleaning only for it so all be ruined when you stepmother and stepsisters walked all over it with their dirty shoes.

"I can't wait for the ball, to meet the prince would be a dream" Abigail mused as she twirled in her beautiful dress.

"Oh just imagine it, the sweet music that would play as you looked into his saphire eyes" Teresa wooed as she followed her sister.

"What's happening?" You asked them and they gave you a look of disgust.

"None of your business cinderface!" They spat.

"Oh dear girls don't be so harsh on her, we should at least give her a chance" your step mother spoke in such a sweet voice.

"What?!" The twins gasped in horror, none of you had ever heard her speak so nicely to you.

"She can come... But only if she cleans through the whole mansion... And manages to get herself a suitable dress before Friday afternoon" she said and your stepsisters cracked up while you felt you stomach twist, you only had three days.

🐞🐞🐞

You watched your step relatives from the attic window that you had just cleaned. Today your sisters had planned to get their dresses and of course you weren't included in such affairs, you never were and you didn't mind it. You were just content with the few little things around you.

Even if you were able to go to the ball. The prince wouldn't spare a moment for a housemaid like you but still some sort of urge to see the prince in person was there, maybe you just wanted to see the male in which your step sisters gushed over.

You were soon brought out of your thoughts by a sudden thud. You wiped your head to the side to see that one of the many boxes  had falled off of one of the shelves. You walked to it and flipped it over to put the fabric back inside only to find it was a dress with a large sum of money folded in it as well as an envelope with your name.

You opened it to see the old letter, the paper yellowed with age.

To my dear (Y/n)

This is my present to you on your eighteenth birthday.

I wish you the most luck my blessed child and I wish I could have watched you grow up to be the beautiful woman you are today but alas while I write this letter to you my body grows weak and my memories slowly fade.

I love you and even thou I am no longer alive my soul still watches over you.

From your loving mother

Your eyes began to tear up as you finished the letter. You missed your parents. They use to shower you with their love and attention. This seemed like a sign that you mother was watching over you. The dress itself was a bit old and plain but with the money you could buy some stuff to make alterations.

You quickly finished cleaning up the attic before putting the dress on a mannequin and placing it in your room before grabbing the money and leaving the house to go to the nearby town and buying anything you thought would look nice to add to the dress.

Once you got home you quickly finished up the rest of the duties with a whole day to spare.

🐞🐞🐞

The day of the ball arrived and you grew ever so excited for the night to come. You helped your step sisters get into their gowns, of course they had to make a huge fuss about how you weren't doing something right but it didn't bother you in the slightest.

"So (Y/n) did you manage to get yourself a dress?" Teresa snickered.

"Yes I did actually" you replied which caused her to nearly choke on air.

"Really now (Y/n)... Care to show us?" Your step mother asked in a cynical tone.

"Of course" you replied before going to your room and changed into it before coming back in to show them.

"Where did you get that from?" Abigail asked in a snarky tone.

"In the attic I found a box with this dress in it along with some money, so I used it to make a few alterations" you explained.

"So you stole from me?" Your step mother hissed.

"No I'd never do such a thing, in the box was a letter from my mother... It was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday present" you explained as she stormed towards you.

"Lies! After all I've done for you!" She screamed as she ripped the sleeve of your dress.

"You're nothing but a disrespectful brat!" She said as she tackled you to the ground and began to tear your dress to shreds.

"You are nothing but a thief!" She  roared as she got up before fixing up your hair.

"Abigail, Teresa. We will be leaving to the ball now" she sighed.

"And as for you (Y/n)... You will be punished for what you have done when we return" she hissed as she along with her daughters left the room as they made their way to the carriage waiting for them, leaving you as a teary mess on the floor.

You cried and cried, uncertain as to why you'd be accuse of such a thing. Until a bright light emitted from the room. When you looked up you saw an orb of light like a giant star.

"Dry your tears my dear...you have done no wrong" a ghostly voice said.

"What are you?" You asked only for the voice to let out a light chuckle.

"I promised you my soul would watch over your my child" they replied.

"Mother?" You asked.

"Yes it's me dear, now I wish to help you"

"But how?" You asked.

"Come to the garden, then I'll tell you what I need" she replied before floating out the room.

You stood up and began to follow the orb of light though the house until you entered the garden.

"Now my dear. I need you to find me a pumpkin, a frog and four mice" she explained. You did have doubt in catching the animals she had requested but it seemed that they instantly came towards you.

"I see the animals can sense that you have a pure heart, they seem eager to help" your mother explained. You quickly ran to the vegetable garden and picked out the largest pumpkin. You struggled to carry it but you absolutely refused to drop it.

"I have everything mom, what now?" You asked before the pumpkin in your hand turned to solid gold causing you to drop it and it quickly grew til it was the size of a shed. Then it morphed into a carriage, the mice turned into horses and the frog turned into a stumpy little man. You nearly fell back in suprise but some invisible force caught you.

Your dress mended itself and turned into a beautiful white  gown, a pair of glass heels slipped onto your feet and a white mask appeared on your face.

"Now (Y/n) before you head to the ball you must understand two conditions, the spell will wear of at the stroke of midnight and if your mask is removed then the spell will also fade" she said before the stumpy man lead you to the carriage.

"Thank you mother" you said to the wisp before you hopped in.

🐞🐞🐞

You looked out the window as the carriage approached the castle that loomed in the distance. It was like a fairy tale, it was like you were in a fairy tale. The carriage eventually halted and a servant escorted you into the castle grounds where many chatted away.

"Wow your dress is so beautiful miss" a familiar voice said. You turned your head to see Teresa.

"Who made it?" Abigail asked, obviously the two didn't realise it was you.

"My mother made it" you replied and the two girls laughed.

"You just like our step sister" Teresa said.

"She does, but we know your not her... She couldn't get a dress like that" Abigail snickered before they walked of.

'That was a close call' you thought, maybe the mask was magic or maybe the two were just stupid but you thanked God they hadn't noticed.

You simply watched as men and women danced the night away, sitting by the sidelines until someone tapped your shoulder.

"What is a beautiful woman such as yourself standing around here, surely someone would ask you to dance with them" asked the male beside you who's hair was like strands of gold and eyes were like sapphires.

"This is my first time attending a ball" you explained to him.

"Really?" The male asked in suprise.

"Yes... I'm but a simple house maid" you explained.

"Then would you care to dance with me?" He asked.

"Oh, I haven't danced in years... I don't want to make you look like a fool Infront of everyone" you said.

"Who said we had to dance in the ball room" the male replied as he led you away from the crowd and up the winding stairs until you reached an atrium where various plants grew and flowers bloomed in every corner.

"I can teach you how to dance" the male said in a sweet voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Place your hands on my shoulders" he guided and you followed.

"Good, now when I step back you should step forward and vice versa"  he said and you tried to follow his but eventually stepped on his foot.

"Ow" he groaned.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"No you don't need to apologize, I know you didn't mean to... It's just part of the learning process" he chuckled before you tried again and in no time more you breezed through the complex moves. You both danced and danced until you saw your stepmother watching you from a distance, you were about to speak up until the male pressed his lips against yours and you quickly pushed him away.

"Senorita, what's the matter?" He asked.

"We only just met..." You muttered.

"But can't you feel our connection? When I first laid eyes on you I felt in, love at first sight" he explained.

"No... Such a thing only exists in fairytales" you responded.

"Well let it be our fairytale... You should stay with me, as my princess... You'll never have to go back to being a house maid" he said in such a sickeningly sweet tone as he tried to get you back in his hands, but you kept backing away.

"No... No!" You argued before making a run for it.

"Wait, please wait!" He called as he followed you.

"No I can't be with you! It isn't right for either of us" you yelled back as your ran down the stairs case, one of your glass slippers falling off in the process, you quickly tried to retrieve it but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Don't be like this" he cooed before trying to take your mask off but as he did it began to crack like china. You pushed away from him again and tried to run. You pushed through the crowd desperately and tried to reach the the exit but the guards quickly grabbed you.

"Let me go! I don't want this!" You screamed on the top of you lungs. All eyes were on you in astonishment as you were being dragged to the prince.

"Cara mia, please don't make a scene" the male said as you were pushed towards him however in that moment a miracle happened, a chandelier fell down between you and the Prince. You took your chance to run as the guards let go of you. You finally got through the door and ran to the carriage with not a care to the rubble that pierced your bare foot as the ring of the clock began to count down to the stroke of midnight. The carriage only got you so far until everything reverted to its original form but it was enough for you to get away from the castle.

🐞🐞🐞

You woke up the next morning and headed to the kitchen to cook breakfast only to find a stranger already preparing it.

"Who are you?" You asked the lady.

"I'm the new house maid" she replied.

"Wait since-" you were quickly silenced by your stepmother.

"We were never short on money... I was just so greedy that I didn't want to pay for a house maid" your stepmother said in a guilty tone.

"I'm so sorry for being so harsh on you for all these years... After seeing the way you charmed prince Giovanna I realised that I treated you so unfairly" he said as she stroked your hair, the mentioning of the prince.

"Please... Don't let anyone find out" you pleaded.

"I won't, but I don't understand why you wouldn't leave us after all the terrible things we did to you?" she said

"I was fine with living the life I had, I know that others may have it worse off... all I wanted to do that night was see a real ball, not attract the attention of a lovesick prince" you explained before she took you to the dinning room.

🐞🐞🐞

From there all seemed good, your step relatives treated you kindly and your step mother had plans for you all to move to a nicer mansion outside of the kingdom.

You had packed up the last of your belongings when someone had knocked on the door, naturally you opened it, your poor heart nearly exploded as you saw prince Giovanna at your doorstep along with two of his guards.

"Good morning" the male greeted as he held the glass slipper you lost.

"Go...good morning your majesty" you stuttered as you bowed Infront of him.

"You seem suprised, I'm sure you must of heard that every woman in the kingdom is obligated to try on the glass slipper" he said.

"No, no it's just that you caught us in the middle of packing but I'm sure my sister's will be down any minute" you explained as you tried to get your sisters but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Then why don't you try it on while we wait for them" he said in a stern tone as his hold on you grew tighter.

"I wasn't at the ball... I twisted my ankle" you lied.

"Then let me see" he asked. Bit your lip as you forcedly twisted your ankle, you tried your best to hide the pain before showing him your leg.

"See, it's twisted" you said causing the male to sigh.

"I see then" he said before looking up to see your sisters who were more then eager to try on the slipper, however you noticed the droplets of blood that  trailed behind them. Abigail had cut off her big toe and Teresa had cut off the back of her heel, both in an attempt to make up for their cruelty towards you for all these years.

They sat down. Abigail was the first to try on the slipper and it fit the the prince's delight but as the prince looked at the shoe on her foot more closely he saw the blood.

"Are you mocking me!" The male growled at her causing her to cower away. Then Teresa tried it on and it fit but one of the guards soon pointed out the blood that dripped from the back of the shoe which enraged the prince.

"You both think you can play with my heart! the girl that I desire did not try to impress me!" He hissed with a voice full of venom. You just hoped that that was the end of it and he would just leave but you quickly noticed one of the guards had vanished, how long had he been gone for?

Soon they had returned with the other glass slipper which made your blood freeze.

"Well then... It seems we have the other slipper, since your other foot is fine (Y/n) why don't you try it?" He asked.

"I'd rather not" you said before the two guards forced you to sit, holding you in place as the prince placed the shoe on your foot, a perfect fit.

"Why did you put me on a wild goose chase to find you?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to marry you, love at first sight in madness!" You explained.

"Well I think your just too modest for your own good, or maybe your family have a role in this" he explained as an evil gleam formed in your eye.

"You mentioned you were a housemaid if I remember correctly... But you are meant to be a noble in blood, am I correct?" He asked.

You gave the prince no response.

"Did your step relatives work you like a slave?" He asked again.

"No-"

"They treated you below them did they not?" He asked again as he cut off your previous answer. You gave him no response as you looked away from him.

"Your step sisters tried to rob you of a happily ever after" he said.

"They probably made you feel unworthy of love" he continued.

"Stop it! They had nothing to do with it!" You screamed.

"You're just a poor degraded mess... You don't know even know your true worth" he explained before he planted a kiss on your lips.

"Don't worry I'll have them pay for how they treated you"

"No!" You screamed.

"(Y/n) you just don't understand... I'm the prince charming that is rescuing you" he explained. Before he left. You knew that it wasn't the last of him but you never expected him to go to the lengths that he did.

The whole kingdom was told that your step relatives were abusive. That they treated you like a slave, that they beat you, they locked you in a basement and starved you. None of it was true but the whole kingdom believed it and eventually you were forced to marry prince Giorno.

In the night of your wedding he presented you his gift... To watch your step relatives dance on a floor of coals and barbwire as the townspeople heckled and howled, screaming words of hatred to those innocent women until they died.

#yandere giorno #yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere #jojo giorno #giorno x reader #fairytale au #spacy works

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, wildamongwolves!

For @wildamongwolves. Hope you enjoy it!

Read On AO3

*****

Towels Are Cold, So Am I

Chapter 1

It's weird, but Stiles likes hanging out with Derek.

Sure, the circumstances are less than desirable: they're looking for Boyd and Erica, unable to locate the wayward Betas. And since Scott won't help Derek, Stiles decides he needs to be the one to bridge the gap.

They spend the last few weeks of July driving around and eating fast food in parking lots as they ponder over maps of the area.

Sure, Derek snarls and bitches that Stiles is annoying, touching everything in the car and leaving traces of his scent everywhere. He makes fun of Stiles' choice in music and calls him a monster when he sees how many curly fries he can stuff in his mouth.

But Stiles has fun, watching the lines form between Derek’s eyebrows when he’s mulling over something Stiles says. Like he can't believe Stiles is as ridiculous as he is. But he listens, no matter how much Stiles talks.

Like now, for example. He’s running through a list of things that he needs to get from the grocery store before they head back to the loft and Derek gives what Stiles calls his “Encouraging Caveman” sound. It means he’s listening, but he’s mildly distracted by something.

Stiles, vaguely amused that he's gotten so good at Derek's version of communication, notices immediately when Derek’s eyes glaze over.

“Dude.” He snaps his fingers near Derek’s face. "We need to get some more snacks before we keep researching."

Derek glances at him, his eyes dark and haunted. “Okay.”

Stiles studies him, thinking of all the things that must be lurking in Derek’s mind to make him look like that.

He's not one for empty platitudes, so he just leans forward and turns up the radio a little, lightly scuffing at Derek’s shoulder in a way that he hopes comes off as reassuring.

Derek glances at him again before looking back at the road.

The littlest bit of tension leaves his shoulders and Stiles definitely counts that as a win.

-----

It’s October and it's raining. Like, fucking pouring, and Stiles is debating whether or not he should get out of the Jeep. The parking lot of the library is practically flooded. His shoes are gonna be soaked.

He sighs and leans forward against his steering wheel, thinking he might be able to see something other than gray clouds in the sky, but no dice. When he leans back, he jumps.

Derek is standing next to his window.

Stiles rolls the window down an inch and hollers, “You scared the shit out of me. What the hell is wrong with you? Get in the car!”

Derek rolls his eyes and, a moment later, is pulling open the passenger door before slamming it shut. He doesn’t look at Stiles, just stares straight ahead.

“So…” Stiles drawls, “whatcha doing out in the rain, Big Guy?”

Derek doesn’t say anything for a moment and Stiles is about to roll his eyes or huff or say something sarcastic like good talk as always when Derek says, “I’m leaving.”

Stiles blinks at the side of Derek’s face, mouth moving, but nothing comes out.

At his silence, Derek’s eyes flicker to his face for a second before going back to the windshield.

Stiles turns and looks out the windshield too. “Where are you going?” he asks because he can’t ask the question he really wants to, not yet.

“South America, with Cora,” Derek murmurs.

Stiles hums, picking at a piece of leather that’s peeling off his steering wheel. “Pretty warm there.”

“Still pretty rainy.”

Stiles nods. They sit in silence for a long time, the rain pattering against the Jeep the only sound.

Finally, Stiles whispers, “Why?”

“Because there’s nothing left for me here.”

And he gets it, he does. But it hurts, oh yes it does, it hurts quite a bit because Stiles could have sworn that they were starting to get somewhere, the two of them. Maybe Stiles was reading too much into it, but he wasn't sure he was.

Hell, they'd even hugged the last time they parted ways and, as awkward as it had been, it was nice and he thought... he thought...

“I don’t want you to go,” he confesses in a small voice.

Derek closes his eyes, his hands fisted on his thighs, his face twisted in pain.

Stiles waits, hoping that Derek will say something that means he feels even remotely the same.

A long beat of silence passes, the rain pounding the roof of the Jeep.

Stiles isn’t stupid. He gets the picture. He's seventeen and ridiculous and Derek isn't interested in him like that and god he's such an idiot.

He feels like a fucking joke as he nods, staring down at his hands. “Well,” he finally croaks, “I… I hope you find some place good.”

“Me too.” There’s a beat of silence before he whispers, “Goodbye Stiles.”

There’s the slightest ghost of fingertips against the side of his neck then the door opens and Derek is gone.

And Stiles is alone in his car again, the strong rain-wet scent of Derek making his nose and eyes burn.

-----

The first time Derek reappears in Beacon Hills, Stiles is almost sure he’s hallucinating again. After all, isn’t his brain still a little wonky from the Nogtisune? Derek used to be a frequent star in his visions, after all.

And since he’s in the woods alone at night, looking for a witch’s familiar, of course he’s gonna imagine Derek because why the fuck not?

It’s been two years since Stiles has seen him. More than that.

But, apparently, there Derek stands. His hair is a little longer, he's got the beginnings of a beard, and there are a few more lines around his eyes. He looks so good and what the fuck –

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he almost shouts, the orb of light in his hand flickering.

Derek jerks back, looking vaguely confused. “I had to get something from the vault. I thought I’d check on the house. Then I heard someone out here.”

“The vault? I, what?” Stiles sputters. He’s suddenly so angry, it’s almost blinding. “I thought you were dead!”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you fucking vanished and no one’s heard from you for over two years and your luck is astronomically bad! What else were we supposed to think?!”

“That’s ridiculous, I’m fine.” Derek looks down at the orb in Stiles' hand then back to his face. “What’s going on? Why are you out here?”

Stiles rolls his eyes and god, it’s almost like Derek never left. Like This is private property and the long days and nights they spent looking for Boyd and Erica and – focus Stiles.

He starts walking the way he was going, sure that Derek will follow him since there’s no way he’s real anyways. “We have a very angry witch on our hands. She’s not happy that Scott tried to tell her she wasn’t allowed to use the Nemeton to fuel a revenge spell.”

Derek snorts, drawing up to Stiles’ left side and scanning the trees. “Yeah, because that’s always worked well for spell casters in the past.”

He gives a conceding gesture. “Which he tried to tell her, but she didn’t want to listen, so she tapped into the damn tree anyways. It’s given her hella power and she’s killed three people.”

Derek’s thoughtful hum is familiar enough to make Stiles glance over at him.

He’s got to be a fucking figment of Stiles’ imagination.

He glances down at his fingers. Only ten. But the situation still feels so surreal. He decides for now that he’ll talk to his Fake Derek to abate some of his anxious nerves like he used to and examine his mental health later.

“So, anyways,” he continues, “not only is there a body count, the negative power is starting to seep into the land, so I’m stuck trying to figure out what her tether is and what do I find? Her fucking familiar! Which is great, but can you guess what it is?” He snorts. “Oh my god, it’s so stupid.”

“What is it?”

“A fucking mountain lion. She's been using a mountain lion to kill people!” He lets out a hoarse laugh. “Like, what the actual fuck, right?”

Derek huffs. “The irony isn’t lost on me, Stiles.”

“Oh I know, dude, I know.”

Derek frowns again. “Don’t call me dude.”

Stiles is about to snap back that he can call his Imaginary Friend Derek whatever he wants when he’s shoved to the side all of a sudden.

He sputters, looking up at Derek, who’s wolfed-out and growling at a mountain lion.

Can hallucinations shove people? If Derek just shoved Stiles, then he has to be real, right?

But there were plenty of times Stiles was convinced he was awake when he wasn’t and fuck he really doesn’t need to have an episode or something right now –

“Stiles! Now would be a good time to do something!” Derek snaps, jolting Stiles from his contemplation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, sitting up. His hands are pouring blood from his unceremonious meeting with the forest floor. He figures, waste not want not, and licks one of his palms, the dirt and blood a disgusting mix on his tongue. He rolls it around his mouth, jumping to his feet.

“Get out of the way!” he shouts and Derek dives to the side right as the mountain lion lunges.

Stiles catches the large cat’s face in his hands, grunts at the feeling of claws digging into his thighs, and severs the creature’s connection to the witch with a push of his Spark.

An ear-splitting shriek shakes the woods.

The mountain lion falls to the ground, writhing and contorting for a moment before it stills, clearly unable to live without its connection to the witch.

Stiles takes a deep breath, the pushback from his spell like a punch in the gut as his legs give out, and shoves his hands against the ground. He pushes the extra energy along the nearest ley line and funnels the brightness toward the Nemeton. He snaps the link and almost pukes at the feeling.

He floats in the ether for a moment. The others are sure to be able to handle the witch now. He should probably go find them, help them…

“Stiles, Stiles!”

He jerks, his eyes finding Derek’s. “Oh shit, you’re still here.”

Derek stares at him. “You’ve got blood all over you. Where are you hurt?”

He laughs. He grew up in Beacon Hills. He’s fucking hurt everywhere. Derek should know that firsthand.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice is careful.

He shakes his head, face still cracked in a smile. “I’m fine, man.” He glances at his palms. “Eh, well, I’ll live this time. Yay me!” He tries to stand but his legs buckle.

Derek snatches him before he can hit the ground.

“I’m good, I just, oohh boy. Too much. Too much.” He sighs, the pounding in his head telling him that he definitely used too much of his Spark with not enough preparation. “I just… need to lie down. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m taking you to the clinic.” He scoops Stiles into a bridal carry and starts back through the woods.

Stiles tries to protest, but he can’t walk, so it seems like he’s along for the ride. He tries to reason, “I need to help the others.”

“You’re in no condition to do that right this second.” Derek tilts his head, listening. “Besides, I think they’ll be fine. It sounds like the fight is winding down.”

"You really look like a puppy when you do that."

Derek's voice is as dry as the desert. "Dog jokes, really? Aren't you a little old for that?"

“Fucking hell, I am so good at imagining things,” he states, closing his eyes. “I even got your Stiles-You’re-So-Dumb voice right.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, just tightens his hold and quickens his pace.

He presses his face to Derek’s chest. Derek smells exactly the same and Stiles can’t help but mutter, “Missed you.”

It’s easy to slip into darkness.

-----

Stiles wakes up at the vet clinic, his hands and thighs bandaged, and feels like someone beat him with a baseball bat.

The witch is gone, the others are fine, and he’s got a migraine from Hell.

He goes back to Scott’s house and checks in with the rest of the pack, allowing them to scold him for being reckless and praising him for helping with the familiar. He leaves before the pizza arrives, not so much for socializing anymore.

He almost wants to ask if anyone saw Derek the night before, but stops himself. Surely someone would have mentioned if Derek was back in town, right?

If he was seeing things, he doesn’t want to worry his friends. It could very well be that he made his own way to the clinic, envisioning Derek as a way to keep him upright and moving.

And if he wasn’t seeing things, if Derek was there and helped him and disappeared again…

Well, Stiles has learned that it doesn’t do to dwell on the past.

#wildamongwolves #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[brabe]

WHAT IF... MURATA UGETSU HAS BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER?

“Murata Ugetsu was by no means detached from life- nor was he free of worries and grief, he had feelings too- the same as anyone else... But, unlike ordinary people, his heart and his emotions were overflowing.

While I listened to Ugetsu’s music that day—to the sudden flood of music-feeling that was amplified so many times more than usual, I found myself wondering — how... just how was this child prodigy able to live...?

Be it joy, or sorrow, or suffering, Ugetsu lived with feelings which were much more complex, and exponentially larger than those of ordinary people- just accumulating it all within himself.” (Chapter 17)

Murata Ugetsu’s introduction struck a chord with me right away because I recognized the feelings described all too well. So, I asked myself, what if?

 After finishing the anime, I read all the chapters of the manga mainly because I wanted to know more about this intriguing character, and I only kept finding clues that reinforced my initial assumption.

 I am hyperfixated on mental health issues, in part wanting to find characters to relate to, so here is my reading of Murata Ugetsu. I wonder if anyone came to the same conclusion as me.

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is an illness marked by an ongoing pattern of varying moods, self-image, and behaviour. These symptoms often result in impulsive actions and problems in relationships with other people. A person with borderline personality disorder may experience episodes of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last from a few hours to days. In general, someone with a personality disorder will differ significantly from an average person in terms of how they think, perceive, feel or relate to others.

“People with BPD are like people with third degree burns over 90% of their bodies. Lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.” (Marsha Linehan, Professof of Psicology, who has BPD herself and developed the most effective therapy to date for this disorder).

There are many categories of symptoms for this disorder and I reckon Ugetsu manifests the following:

A pattern of unstable relationships swinging from extreme closeness and love (idealization) to extreme dislike or anger (devaluation):

The most glaringly obvious one is, of course, the relationship with Akihiko. 

“Right after Ugetsu has been away from home for some time, there is a honeymoon phase which lasts a few days. It’s as if we have returned to the past... And then out of the blue, it happens—as if he’s saying, yes, this is a great chance—let's take this opportunity, quit being together and break for real this time. Like he is in a rush... Like I am not needed. Like—he is forcibly shutting me out from his world.” (Chapter 19)

“Him and I... We have been causing each other nothing but despair for almost two years now.” (Chapter 17)  

It’s also notable the lack of other relationships. When Mafuyu asks him, why Ugetsu was confiding in him, even though they were virtually strangers, Ugetsu replies: “Because I don’t have any friends! Perhaps, I really just wanted someone to understand... Just a little bit is enough.” (Chapter 17)

He is actually really kind towards Mafuyu, opening his home to him, freely helping him with music anytime Mafuyu wants even though he is a world-renowned musician and even letting him practice at his house while he is not there. We know he does that because he recognizes the genius in Mafuyu, but still, I think he actually would like to have friends; he probably just doesn’t know how to. We know that Akihiko was his first friend and evidently years later still the only one close to him.

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger, often followed by guilt and shame:

Ugetsu gets suddenly physically violent with Akihiko two times (and a third one is implied when Haruki first saw Akihiko and he had a bruised cheekbone). He throws a glass on the floor when Mafuyu visits him because Akihiko still hasn’t come back home. He seemingly inexplicably smashes the mug Akihiko gifted him: “Around the time we had just started to live together, when he brought me my first present, somehow... I hated that very much, and I refused it saying—’I don’t want it!’ Even though it was only a mug. Back then, I should’ve just said—’I’m happy. I want to be with him.’” (Chapter 17)

I believe the last one was a dissociative episode, another symptom of BPD, a trance-like state in which one is disconnected from their own mind, body and surroundings. Then the switch turns back on and Ugetsu suddenly starts crying, crouching on the floor, staring blankly at the broken pieces and picking them up, asking himself why, just why did I do this?

The guilt and shame aspect is also shown, when after having recounted his history with Akihiko to Mafuyu, Ugetsu leans his head on the steering wheel of his car remembering everything, clearly in grief, and thinking to himself: “Really... He is a good guy, isn’t he.” (Chapter 17). Here I want to indeed praise Akihiko and underline how well he dealt with Ugetsu’s dissociative episode. He didn’t freak out and lash out at Ugetsu, calling him crazy, but instead he tried to diffuse the situation, laughing and helping Ugetsu to pick up the pieces of the broken mug. As if to say, ‘it’s okay.’

Desperate efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment:  

One way of doing this is leaving the other person before they leave you, which is exactly what Ugetsu does or tries to do. He is terrified that Akihiko will leave him definitely one day, but at the same time he actively tries to make him leave: “I’m the lowest son of a bitch towards Akihiko and I guess he resents me, y’know... But I love him to death.” (Chapter 17)

“I’ve been pushing him away but he hasn’t given up on me at all. I’ve been trying to leave him every chance I get. But it seems like I’m still not good at doing that, so... I’ve always been waiting for him to let go of me.” (Chapter 17)

“What if he never came back, just like that? I’ve thought about it countless times. Yet, I’m still not able to imagine it. Tomorrow, he might come back all of a sudden? Or maybe he won’t? But, just the same, I want this suffering to end. But on second thought, I don’t really want that. All the stuff that’s in this room right now, the thought that everything might disappear... Will nothing... Not one thing remain?” (Chapter 27)

Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self:  

It’s fair to say the core obstacle in his relationship with Akihiko. Ugetsu’s whole existence is ingrained irrevocably in music. It is what gives his life purpose and the outlet with which he deals with his too intense emotions. Which leads me to wonder what would happen if for some reason he lost music. And I am not positive he would survive that.

“After we graduated from high school—at the time, when I was actively performing as a musician... one day all of a sudden I realized, the existence of the other—was the one thing we both chased after the most in this world. As long as Akihiko is with me, I’ll be unable to become free with my music.” (Chapter 17)

Ugetsu felt as if he was losing himself and his music in his love for Akihiko, which brings to the unstable sense of self. This terrified him. Love is messy for everyone and anyone but with BPD emotions are plugged into an amplifier and dialled up to the maximum (“But for my heart to be touched like that”). He can’t deal with all of this and the fight-or-flight response is triggered and “Let’s end this already.” (Chapter 17)

Black-or-white thinking:  

People with BPD often struggle to see the complexity in people and situations and are unable to recognize that things are often not either perfect or horrible, but are something in between. This can lead to "splitting," which refers to an inability to maintain a cohesive set of beliefs about oneself and others. Ugetsu seems to be obsessed with perfection and probably to be a world-renowned violinist you need to be to a certain degree. But for example, when asked by Akihiko to come to the band’s first live, he replies with: “Is it at a level that you can show me? Ah... it’s not at a level where you can reply to me right away... then, I won’t come. There’s no point watching a performance if the performer doesn’t have the confidence to do it well.” (Chapter 8)

Ugetsu doesn’t exist in the in-betweens. There is pefection or worthlessness, love or hate, music or Akihiko.

Depression:

Ugetsu manifests many symptoms of depression.

He is either practicing the violin or sleeping. 

He seems to undereat. Almost in every panel in which they are at home, Akihiko worries about whether Ugetsu has eaten or not, and always offers to cook for him, implying that Ugetsu wouldn’t bother if left to his own devices.  

He is untidy and careless to some degree. At the violin concerto where Ugetsu is the soloist, Akihiko exclaims: “Again? That idiot... His hair is a mess.” (Chapter 15) implying that it isn’t the first time that Ugetsu appears somewhat shabby at a formal event, in which furthermore he is the star. This fact in particular surprised me because I had the impression that Ugetsu was vain.

This neglectfulness also reflects in his living space. Once Akihiko leaves, the house is in complete disarray. When Akihiko comes back to say he will move out, the debris of the glass Ugetsu smashed when Mafuyu visited are still there.

Last but not least, Ugetsu lives in a soundproofed basement in semidarkness, a fortress of solitude of sorts from the outside world.

Suicidal thoughts or threats:  

“Well, when I was a kid, I used to go to some unknown old man’s plantation on my own, and I enjoyed killing bugs by squishing them with my right hand, y’know... Then, on one clear sunny day, I happened to listen to some music playing on that old man’s radio. It was ‘In the flow of time’ by Paul Simon... Yet even though I was only a kid, I thought, wow... I want to die... It’s a good day, isn’t it? Well, there were other things too, but somehow, I wonder If I’ve basically been chasing that feeling of dying from back then...” (Chapter 21.5)

Well, this passage speaks for itself. In some capacity Ugetsu has been pondering on death, has been chasing it, since he was a small child. I think this can be linked to the BPD symptom of chronic feelings of emptiness.

Impulsive, self-destructive and sensation-seeking behaviours:  

In this category I think we can include the sleeping around in which Ugetsu engages. While not a harmful behaviour in itself, I think the motive is. Ugetsu has been systematically sleeping around for two years not because he actually wants to and it makes him feel good, but he does it to spite Akihiko and as a coping mechanism to try and get over him. This wouldn’t do good to anyone’s mental health and self-worth.

“Ugetsu and I fought all the time, even after we broke up. That... was because of his timing when it came to finding a new man... It was as though he was doing to spite me.” (Chapter 19)

Intense and highly changeable moods:

Simply, all of the above.

This is all for now. I will edit this list if future chapters will shed more light on the mind and heart of this character that I have come to care so deeply about.

#murata ugetsu #given #borderline personality disorder #akigetsu #bpd

[becca-e-barnes]

hi it’s the ranting anon again i’m sorry ik you’re swamped so i wasn’t going to say anything g but i think it would be better to go ahead and get it off my chest again than end up hurting myself. i’ve been cut free for almost a year now and i don’t want to ruin it

well the job i told you about where nobody likes me? well this weekend went sm better. ppl included me and talked to me again and i didn’t see anyone give me the angry eyes or anything again so i felt more at ease but still worried about their opinions of me. but today, the last day until next weekend, i had to go and mess it up again. as i was clocking out it was brought to my attention that i didn’t finish something. i cleaned the downstairs bathrooms but totally forgot about the upstairs bathrooms. i didn’t think it was a big deal honestly easy mistake considering they don’t always clean upstairs anyway. but they gathered around me giving me those eyes and being all quiet while the girl that ik for sure doesn’t like be started scolding me and raising her voice and looked so angry. so i quietly did it. i knew they were talking ab me. i did it tho. with shaky hands. and i was too scared of having their eyes on me that i didn’t even clock back in and them out again. honestly tho i feel like my mental health is more important than that stupid money anyway. i’m just always scared around them. and when i got in my car i was too mentally exaghsyed (idk how to spell it sue me) to cry. i’m such a people pleaser i literally only want to make them happy so they can like me. and it was all a common fucking sense thing and i’m just so stupid. i cant win. i cant accept that everyone will always dislike me. i cant prove myself useful bc i’m so fucking dumb. i don’t even need an answer i just had a rough end of the day and need your support. ily tho big sis.

(not proof read rip)

Hey honey, always feel free to come here and get things off your chest, that’s what I’m here for 💗

I know that last little part of your shift must’ve been so awful for you and I’m really sorry to hear it went that way but really, you have so many positives to focus on here!!

Think about how much better things went this weekend! Think about all the times you felt included and people made an effort to be nice to you! It’s easy to dwell on the negatives, especially if they happen to land right at the end of the day but that’s not what you should focus on here!

And truthfully, I’ve worked in the hospitality industry for 5 years, I see the exact situation you’re in all the time when we get new people. (I don’t know if you’re working in hospitality but if you are, I really do know the struggle, I started in there just before I turned 17 so I’ve been through it boo)

I’ve seen my coworkers go harder on the new girls to see if they can handle it. Hell, I’ve been on the receiving end because starting at 16, no one thought I would stick it out. They almost try to find faults in your work to see how you handle criticism? And that’s exactly what I’m seeing here! If you’d been in this role two years already, no one would care in the slightest if you forgot to do the upstairs bathrooms but because you’re new, you’re getting a bit of unnecessary shit for it

And sweetheart, I do want to say that it does get better! I’ve been in that job over 5 years now and I look forward to it all week! Those girls are now some of my best friends but starting off is absolutely shit. Don’t sacrifice your mental health over the head of it. It’s definitely not worth that much.

And really, in the grand scheme of things, sooo much will happen in that place between now and next weekend when you’re back again. By the time you come back, they’ll have forgotten all about it! You might think about it all week but they certainly won’t so next weekend will be better!

I hope his helped a little, baby! Please take good care of yourself! 💗

#asks answered <3 #anon #tw: self harm mention #it’s so frustrating because I see this with every new person we’ve ever had #and truthfully #some people handle it #and some don’t #i always thought it was a product of a fast paced work environment #and my brother has had the same experience in his jobs #it’s not uncommon! #and I would even argue it’s not personal #it’s just how these places are #big sister becca