#but if she were gone there’s no point or drive for me to continue suffering like this

[sstormyskyess]

omg 16 with poly tf141 would be the greatest thing ever reader brings not one, not two, but four huge beefcakes home to their shitty families holiday party that they only throw to show off their fancy house and shitty interior design, I know that probably wasn't the original idea of the prompt but if you're interested I'd love to see you write it thank you!

Family Affairs

author's note: i actually got to pull from personal experience with this one tbh, i’m gonna have to go to a party like this near the end of the year. unfortunately, i don’t have four beefcakes to bring with me 😔 at least i can imagine it though! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!!

cw: poly tf 141, general fluffy stuff, reader has a big family [just like me, i have 14 members in my extended family just on my dad’s side]

word count: 1800+

TF-141 x GN!Reader

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You were hoping, praying that you weren't going to get that one little text message that always spelled disaster no matter when it came across your phone screen. It had been a good run, too; you hadn’t suffered this fate in a good few years. But, apparently that winning streak was too good to be true.

You look at the notification on your screen again, re-reading it for about the third time. ‘We hope to see you at the party this year! P.S., please bring your boyfriend along this time, your aunt won’t drop it,’ the message from your mom read. Boyfriend. Little did she know, you in fact had four boyfriends, none of which had met your frustratingly nosy family.

Speak of the devil—or, one of them at least—John walks into the common area, a stack of papers in his hand. “Morning, love.” He shoots you a smile before focusing his attention back on the documents he was scanning. “What’s on your mind?” He takes a seat in the chair opposite you, leaning back and crossing his legs, one ankle on the other leg’s knee.

You think for a bit before sighing. “Off-base things. Family stuff.” It’s clear he was unsatisfied with your vague answer when he met your eyes with a raised brow. You huff, knowing you wouldn’t get away with dancing around the issue for even a moment. “My mom wants me to bring a boyfriend back for my aunt’s holiday party.”

John continues to look at you, his air gone from stern to confused within a second. “You do have a boyfriend. Four of them, actually.” He tilts his head as he states the obvious. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “I know that. I just don’t wanna subject any of you to the torture that is being at those pointless parties.”

He just smiles at you again, his eyes returning to whatever was on the papers in his lap. “Maybe we’ll make it better for you. I’m sure the rest of our boys will be glad to accompany you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking about the prospect. Frankly, it did sound like a good idea on the surface; it would be nice to spend some down time with all the people you love, after all. After another few moments of thought, you nod and stand up from your chair. “You’ve got a point. I’ll go talk to the others, then—see if they’ll be able to come with us.”

John hums in approval, catching your wrist as you walk past toward the door. “Hey. Come here.” You smile, leaning down to kiss him and appreciating the feeling of John’s hand coming up to the nape of your neck, his fingers rubbing a loose circle on your skin. “Things will be fine, darling,” he says after pulling away. “Don’t worry.”

A deep sense of dread starts to build inside of you as your mini convoy starts to approach your aunt’s house, which is technically more like a mansion based on the size of it. It had already set in the moment Simon convinced the others to let him drive. Yes, he got you to your destination way faster than any of the others would, but that was only because he drives like a maniac.

The dread slowly developing wasn’t caused by Simon almost getting everyone into a wreck at least two or three times, though. It was caused by the fact that you could already see your family’s cars lined up along the road and sitting in the driveway, memories of past parties flooding your head.

Kyle beside you must notice the way you’ve started shrinking into yourself and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to kiss you on the cheek. “I’m excited to meet your family, sweetheart.” An underlying joy is hidden in his voice, which brings a small smile to your face. “You sure?” You chuckle, leaning into him. “They can be a lot.”

“I’ve dealt with worse, no need to worry.” He ensures you, pressing a couple more kisses to your temple and your forehead. Your cheeks warm and you push his face away. “Stop it,” you say playfully.

Johnny helps you out of the car and wraps an arm around your waist when Ghost pulls over to park his car on the side of the street. “Who do you think is gonna be the favorite?” He asks with a grin on his face. You hum, tapping your chin and feigning deep thought. “Probably John. And not you, the responsible John.”

Johnny scoffs, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. “I am responsible! Can’t believe you would say such a thing!” You simply pull him closer and kiss him on the cheek, giggling under your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me—” You’re cut off by him giving you a big kiss on the lips. “Fine, you’re forgiven.” He gives you his bright smile, the one that reaches his eyes and crinkles the corners of them.

Simon walks past and tugs on Johnny’s sleeve, pulling him forward. “Get moving, Johnny.” He grunts, dragging him along and taking you with him in turn.”We’re coming, we’re coming,” Johnny huffs.

You take a deep breath once you reach the front door of your aunt’s house, amping yourself up to face the music head-on. You feel John’s comforting hand between your shoulder blades and you smile, his silent support soothing your nerves and giving you the courage to ring the doorbell, officially sealing your fate. No going back now.

Surprisingly, the night was actually going well. Just like John said, being able to sit in-between two of your ruggedly handsome partners while the other two were pulling your aunt’s attention away from you was massively more comfortable compared to your other experiences in this house.

Johnny and Simon, seated next to you on either side, chatted with a couple members of your extended family while Kyle was off in the kitchen making a plate of hors d'oeuvres for you, and John was busy entertaining your aunt and mother with various war stories from his yesteryears. It seemed like everyone was having a blast, their easy smiles contagious.

You look up when Kyle sits in the armchair next to the loveseat you, Simon and Johnny were posted up on. You grin when he presents you with a small plate full of various meats and cheeses. He kisses your hand as you reach over and take the plate from him, making your face heat up. You shoot him a pointed look, but he flashes his pretty smile in return. You can’t possibly stay mad at that smile—I mean, have you seen it? You just shake your head, unable to mask the flustered look on your face.

Your grandmother looks away from her conversation with Johnny and turns her attention to Kyle. “Oh my! Who’s this lovely young man?” She listens intently as he introduces himself and then starts up her usual questioning whenever one of her grandbabies brought someone to meet the family.

You let out a long sigh, your senses already getting overwhelmed after the past hour or so of entertaining the party with your boys. You start to pick at your hors d'oeuvres, building a little stack of what looked like some sort of salami and a piece of cheese on a cracker, popping it in your mouth. 

Simon’s hand comes into your downturned gaze and rests on your leg, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze, a silent check-in. You cover his hand with yours, looking up at him and smiling, effectively quelling his concerns. He nods and intertwines his fingers with yours, an affectionate glint in his gaze. You return the look wholeheartedly and let him pull his hand away to rest in his lap.

You glance up when you hear your name being called across the room and see John and your mother looking over at you. She beckons you over and you sigh, standing up and starting to head over to the two of them. You jump when Johnny’s hand pats the back of your thigh a couple times, smirking up at you. You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet ‘stop that,’ trying to hide the fact that your heart skipped a beat at the smug look on his face.

John wraps an arm around your waist once you get close enough, his hand petting up and down your side. “Your mother wants to know how we met,” he explains. Your mother pipes up, “I also want to know why you were hiding these lovely men from the family for so long.” She gives you a look. The look. You groan, running a hand over your face. “Of course, mom.”

“I’ve no idea why you were so worried about tonight, bonnie. It was perfectly fine!” Johnny pulls you down to the couch in the living room of the house you and the others had bought recently, his arms tight around you. He held you in place to pepper kisses all over your face. You try to push his face away so you can actually respond to his comment; the effort was futile, but after a few pushes he pulls away on his own. “It seems like they were on their best behavior since you four showed up with me. You’re all pretty imposing, to be fair,” you say, leaning back against Johnny’s chest.

Simon walks in with a handful of mugs filled with warm spiced apple cider, passing them around the room and then sitting in his armchair, his legs crossed loosely. He notices your eyes on him and raises a brow. “You talking about me?” You laugh and shake your head. “Not just you, silly.”

Kyle catches the tail end of the conversation after coming downstairs in his lounging clothes, sitting next to John on the loveseat opposite the couch Johnny had you buried in. “I’m sure it was mostly you, Simon.” He grins, leaning into John’s side. You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m sure most of my family was intimidated by your dashingly handsome looks, good sir.”

John rests his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck. “That’s a good point, darling,” he smirks, taking note of the bashful look that crosses Kyle’s features. He hides his smile by taking a sip from his mug.

“Hopefully your family feels a bit more comfortable around us next year, yeah?” John takes a sip of cider from his own mug, before setting it down on the coffee table and picking up the remote to put something on the TV, probably some shitty holiday movie. The exact kind that he likes.

You hum and hold your warmed up mug in your lap, happily cuddling up with Johnny. “Yeah, hopefully.” There’s a brief pause before you realize what he just said and the implications of it. “Wait—next year?” And once again, that signature sense of dread hits you and you groan, knowing you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #john soap mactavish x gn!reader #kyle gaz garrick x gn!reader #john price x gn!reader #mwii #mwiii #mw2 #mw3 #ghost mw2 #ghost mw3 #soap mw2 #soap mw3 #gaz mw2 #gaz mw3 #price mw2 #price mw3 #storm's creations #sstormyskyess

[massivedrickhead]

If you’re still accepting prompts could you do number 2? Maybe one of them is sick and needs looking after? 🥹👉👈

Someone asked for a part 2 of the prompt I posted yesterday, and this felt like the perfect prompt to use

Hope you enjoy!

2. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

Prompt taken from here.

Read on AO3

-

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

Chloe glanced at Aubrey, who had been sitting beside her in silence for the better part of three hours, but she didn’t speak. Her mind was somewhere else.

“Baby, can I get you anything?” Chloe asked, crouching on the bathroom floor, her hand rubbing up and down Beca’s back.

“N-no,” Beca replied, before throwing up again. Beca’s cheeks were streaked with tears and her whole body shook as she continued to heave, though there was nothing left in her stomach to come up.

“Not even some water?”

“It won’t stay down.”

“Chloe?”

“No,” Chloe said. “I’m fine.”

Aubrey sighed but didn’t say anything else. Chloe hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, or even moved since Beca had been taken into surgery that morning. She knew pointing it out wouldn’t help though. She knew nothing short of an earthquake would move Chloe from this spot. 

“She’s going to be okay,” Aubrey said. 

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “I know.” She has to be, Chloe thought. She has to be okay.

The surgery was all part of Beca’s treatment plan, but it was the part that caused Chloe the most anxiety.

The fear that something could go wrong while they were in there, or that they’d discover that things were much worse than they’d thought, had been plaguing Chloe for weeks. 

While Beca had spent the last few weeks suffering from exhaustion, headaches, vomiting, and little to no appetite, Chloe had been driving herself crazy with endless late nights Googling every possible scenario.

She spent her days alternating between working and taking care of Beca, and her nights glued to her phone, trying to prepare herself for what might come next.

Aubrey had temporarily moved in to help with Beca while Chloe was working. She’d dropped her hours to part-time, but she couldn’t stop altogether because they needed the money now more than ever.

The doctor hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that Beca’s full-time job needed to be taking care of herself. 

Beca had managed to stay at work for a few more weeks, but one day she’d tried to get out of bed and found she couldn’t, and things got worse from there.

“Bec, are you okay?” Chloe asked, surprised to find Beca still in bed long after her alarm had gone off. She put a hand on Beca’s forehead and frowned when it felt clammy and cold. “You don’t look too good.”

“I can’t… I don’t think I can go in today,” Beca said, closing her eyes against the harsh morning light, hoping it would be enough to drive away the pounding in her head. 

“I’ll call Theo and let him know,” Chloe said. She kissed Beca on the forehead and drew the curtains in their bedroom, plunging the room back into darkness. “Can I get you anything?”

“Water?” Beca asked. She sounded so tired she didn’t even sound like herself anymore. 

“Of course,” Chloe replied. “I’ll get you an ice pack for your head too.”

“Tell Theo I’ll be back tomorrow,” Beca said, as Chloe headed for the door. “I just need a day.”

Chloe paused, her hand resting on the doorknob.

“Let’s see how you feel tomorrow.”

“She should be out by now,” Chloe said after another hour had passed in silence. She was chewing on her lip, her eyes glued to the clock on the wall. “They said four hours.”

Aubrey looked up from her phone and glanced at the same clock.

“They said four to five,” Aubrey said. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

Chloe wanted to snap. She felt like she was itching for a fight. Desperate for something to distract herself from the pit of nerves in her stomach. 

But before she could speak, a doctor approached them, and Chloe felt like she’d started free-falling. 

They both stood, and Aubrey’s hand found hers and squeezed, but Chloe didn’t feel it.

“I, um, I have some money set aside,” Beca said, the night before her surgery. She had her head on Chloe’s chest, and Chloe was playing with her hair. 

“What are you talking about?” Chloe asked.

“It’s for, like, funeral expenses,” Beca said. She felt Chloe tense beneath her, but she carried on talking. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but we have to.”

“No we don’t,” Chloe said, her throat so tight she was surprised the words made it out. “You aren’t going to die.”

“I might-”

“No.”

“Chloe,” Beca said, her voice stronger than it had been. Chloe had almost forgotten what it used to sound like when it wasn’t strained and tired. She couldn’t remember the last time it didn’t sound like every word took a monumental effort for Beca to get out. “I might die tomorrow. I know my odds are good, but it’s a possibility.” She sat up so she could look at Chloe, and her chest got tight at the sight of tears flowing down her face. 

This is what she’d wanted to avoid. This was why she’d tried so hard to keep Chloe away.

“I set aside some money,” Beca said, needing Chloe to hear what she had to say. “It’ll be left for you in my will, and it’s to cover the funeral, or whatever you need it for. I don’t want you to have to worry about that on top of everything else if… If I don’t make it.”

Chloe sniffed and sat up too, wiping the fallen tears from her cheeks.

“Okay,” she said. “But you aren’t allowed to die.”

Beca smirked, and for the first time in a long time, Chloe saw the Beca she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “I don’t plan on doing it yet.”

The doctor was speaking to them, but Chloe couldn’t make out what they were saying.

She could see their mouth moving, but none of the words made it to her ears.

“Okay, we’re ready to get Beca prepped now.”

Chloe opened her mouth but Beca shook her head. “No goodbyes,” she said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Chloe swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Beca replied. 

Chloe bent down to kiss her girlfriend and prayed it wouldn’t be for the last time. 

They broke apart, and Chloe studied her face. The shape of her nose, the colour of her eyes, the line of her jaw. 

Beca took hold of her hand and squeezed. She could see fear in Chloe’s eyes, but she hoped Chloe couldn’t see it in hers. 

Beca nodded, and let go of her hand.

There was nothing either of them needed to say now.

There was a whooshing sound in Chloe’s ears. Aubrey had tears in her eyes, and Chloe felt her chest get impossibly tighter.

“Chloe?”

“Don’t,” Chloe said. “Please don’t say it.”

“Chloe, she’s okay,” Aubrey said, confused at why there’d been no expression of relief on Chloe’s face. Confused at why Chloe had gone so pale, or why her grip on her hand was now so tight it threatened to break Aubrey’s fingers. “Chloe,” Aubrey repeated, her voice stern and much louder, and Chloe seemed to finally register it. “She’s okay.”

Chloe turned to the doctor and waited for it to come from them.

“Beca’s doing well,” the doctor said. “Everything went to plan and she’s been taken down to the ICU to recover. Are you okay?”

“I… yes, I’m fine,” Chloe said, suddenly feeling lightheaded with the relief. She dropped back into the seat and let her head fall into her hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what just happened.”

“The past six months catching up to you is what just happened,” Aubrey said, sitting beside her and rubbing a hand up and down her back. 

Chloe shook her head. “I’m just tired,” she said. 

“No, you’ve been prioritising someone else’s health, and now that they’re finally out of immediate danger, your body is letting you know that it’s your turn now,” the doctor said. “Beca’s going to be in hospital for the rest of the week, I strongly recommend that you use this time to take care of yourself.”

“But-”

“Visiting hours in the ICU are between 2 pm and 4 pm, and 7 pm and 9 pm every day. You can spend those hours at the hospital if you would like, but the rest of the time you need to spend taking care of yourself. Beca’s still going to need you when she gets home from the hospital, and you won’t be much use if you’re in this state.”

Chloe finally seemed to hear what the doctor was saying, and she looked up at her. “She’s really okay?”

“I promise, everything went exactly as we’d hoped. She did great in there. Once she’s recovered from the surgery she’ll continue her treatments as planned, and we’re very confident that she can make a full recovery.”

It felt like a damn had broken inside her, and Chloe started crying tears of pure relief. “Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you so much.”

“She isn’t awake yet,” the doctor said, “but you can go and sit with her if you like?”

“Please,” Chloe said, hastily wiping her eyes. 

The doctor led them to Beca’s room, and it took everything in Chloe’s power not to immediately dissolve into tears again. 

She took a seat at Beca’s bedside and gently took hold of her hand. She got a strong feeling of Deja Vu, though she knew it wasn’t. This wasn’t the first time she’d sat at Beca’s bedside but she hoped it would be one of the last. 

Beca was full of tubes and wires, but underneath all of that, she looked peaceful. Her heart rate was steady and rhythmic, and her chest rose and fell with each breath she took.

The room was dimly lit and quiet, and Chloe felt calm for the first time in a long time.

When Beca finally woke up, she saw Chloe sleeping in the chair beside her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

She was sore, tired, and still felt loopy from the morphine, but she was relieved to see Chloe beside her.

She couldn’t imagine having to do this alone. She couldn’t imagine how she’d have survived the last six months alone.

She was so grateful that Chloe was still there beside her, and even more grateful still that Chloe had fought to get back in her life. 

“She’s been a real pain in the ass,” Aubrey said from her other side, causing a grunt of laughter from Beca. 

“Knew she would be,” Beca mumbled, turning her head to look at her. “Thanks for staying with her. And thank you for, you know, everything.”

“Of course,” Aubrey said. “We’re in a sisterhood for life, remember? You’re just lucky I managed to convince the other Bellas that a reunion at your bedside wasn’t the best idea.”

Beca grunted again and grinned. “Good idea. Don’t think my stitches could handle a group hug.”

Her eyes were already itching to close again, but the soft sounds of their conversation had woken Chloe up.

“You’re awake,” Chloe said, the words leaving her like a sigh of relief.

“For now,” Beca replied. “Not sure how much longer though.”

“How do you feel?”

“Sore,” Beca said. “Tired.” She closed her eyes as Chloe brushed a hand through her hair. “Did it work?”

“It did,” Chloe said. “A complete success. They said you did great in there.”

Beca smiled but didn’t seem to have the energy to open her eyes. “I had the easy job,” she said.

“Can I get you anything?” Chloe asked. “Is there anything you need?” Chloe didn’t know if Beca was even awake to answer, but she felt like she had to ask just in case.

“No,” Beca mumbled, sleep pulling at her again. “Just you.”

#bechloe #pitch perfect fanfiction #fanfic #pitch perfect fanfic #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #beca #chloe #bechloe prompt #prompt #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfic #no matter the timeline #pitch perfect fic

[tired-night-owl]

Blood Runs Cold

Fandom : Star Wars The Bad Batch

One shot ?

I tried to write a small fic about Crosshair and Omega in the new promo that’s been released because I can’t wait to see them together in the new season even if I know my heart is gonna get crushed by Dave Filony again… Hopefully I am the opposite of last season and I am soooo wrong and they will all be reunited as a big family where no one dies or sacrifice themselves for the others ! Anyway I hope you enjoy :) 

Word count : 866

Summary : Crosshair has much to think about in his new conditions, what doesn’t help is when a far too bubbly and optimistic teenager comes and ruins his peaceful self pity moment.

Notes : brief mention of torture I guess, small but graphic description of tech’s death, Siblings!crosshair x omega, Spoilers for the new promo clip !

He noticed it a while ago, when they first started their wicked experiments on him. He tried to keep it under control mostly for his pride because seeing as with such a condition, his (now rendered useless) talent would be even more so wasn’t helping his morale. Crosshair didn’t mind it too much for now because not one clone in this cursed facility was in any shape or form to judge him in his misery. That is until the girl showed up. 

That child has been the sole cause for any misfortune he had to live though in the last couple of months he thought, but scolded himself to at least not make it show. She has enough to deal with too at the moment without having to suffer his endless wrath and sorrows. Still she cost him everything. His family, in more ways than one, his station, attempting to save her branded him a traitor and a VIP ticket to Hemlock’s test table and —

His mind went silent 

His brother Tech…. He had to give his life for hers. Skull smashed to pieces because they didn’t heed his warning. There's no way the batch can survive without its brain now. 

His mind whirled with thoughts like these locked in his dark cell all day. Some would say they were enough to drive a man insane but Crosshair already knew insane, and it wasn’t by his choice. Now he sees it, the effect that damn chip has had on him. How it made him turn on the only people who ever cared for him. He couldn’t turn on this one now. 

« Crosshair… »

« Crosshair ! I tried to come earlier, but there are too many guards watching me…»

He tried to calm his usually snappy tone for the sake of the girl who must be as terrified if not more than he is at the moment.

« You shouldn’t be down here at all » he tried to make her realize a little harsher than he wished.

It was foolish of her to put a target on her back by snooping around, on THEIR backs. In a situation like this where there is no hope, it’s best to comply and hope you die as painlessly as possible. Though that seemed unlikely for him at the hands of that sick scientist. But there might be hope for her yet if she stopped escaping her quarters.

The girl continued with her misplaced energy and optimism.

« How else are we gonna plan an escape ? »

An escape ?! Had she gone insane? Did she not realize they were in the middle of no where, in an unknown imperial playground, surrounded by guards with no moral compass except loyalty to the credits they earn at the end of each shift filled with screams of tortured people. Better to kill that idea in the egg before she gets too altruistic. 

The sniper resumed his usual cold and unapproachable attitude, hoping the girl would realize that planning an escape in a place such as this with only 1 ally was foolish already but with no one, it was simply stretching your neck to help the executioner do his job. 

« There is no WE, and there is no escape… I’ve already tried. » 

The young clone didn’t budge.

« Every stronghold has a weak point ! Maybe I could convince Emerie to help, she’s one of us. »

His brothers has taught her well he could tell, and by that he meant by filling her head with useless idiotic tactics and informations for a obviously changing galaxy. Besides if they shouldn’t trust one person in this Sarlac pit, it was HER. That double crossing scientist woman. Testing on people was bad enough but on her own « brothers » that was being a plain sociopathic hypocrite. 

« Not every clone is your ally ! » The sharpshooter reminded her.

« You trust too easily… »

He expected a reply and one sounding similar to that one too, so he doesn’t know why her words struck him so. 

« Maybe you don’t trust enough. » Omega replied with that same misguided hope as earlier.

An uncomfortable silence surrounded the two and then it started again : the shaking.

The stupid shaking he couldn’t stop. The best sniper in the whole GAR with quivering hands, how ironic. He felt uneasy having her see him like this. It was as if his own brothers could see how low he had fallen and for a prideful man like Crosshair, it was not an easy feat to overcome. 

« Crosshair ? »  The young girl asked after her gaze fell upon her brother hiding his hands from her. 

Not so long ago he would’ve snapped at her for simply seeing him in a state like this, desperately trying to steady his once reliable hands but now, he just didn’t have the heart or the energy to do so…

« Just… Go. » he simply said. 

« Before you make things worst for both of us… »

In this moment he came to the conclusion that yes, he didn’t want to be punished for the girl’s misbehaviour but he also mostly didn’t want her to suffer because of him. 

Knowing Hemlock, he wouldn’t even do it to punish Omega… but he would do unexplainable things to the girl to make HIM suffer. 

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb spoilers #star wars the clone wars #tbb finale #tbbspoilers #tbbedit #tbb crosshair #bad batch season 3 #tbb omega #Siblings!omegaxcrosshair #my fic #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair #omega bad batch #omega tbb #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction

[cherryanony]

IN DEFENSE OF ELENA GILBERT: Why Do Yall Hate Emotional Women?

Vampire Diaries - Elena Gilbert pictured doing nothing wrong

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

I started watching The Vampire Diaries back in 2016, right as it was coming to its long overdue close. To say I was obsessed was an understatement.

I would spend hours, days, WEEKS, consuming fan content, rewatching episodes and scenes over and over agin, discussing stupid plot points and writing descions that were made and throughout all of that one question has always dangled over my head...

Why does everybody hate Elena Gilbert?

Despite The Vampires Diaries being a dark supernatural teen drama filled to the brim with freaks & weirdos, murderers, psychopaths, evil forces and THE ACTUAL LITERAL DEVIL... Elena Gilbert reigns as the most hated character on the show by viewers.

But, why?

Elena Gilbert starts off the show as a 17 year old teenage girl who just experienced some of the craziest trauma any person, let alone TEENAGER, could ever go through. She was in the car with her parents when they died off Wickory Bridge and now suffers from a serious case of survivors guilt, a trait and mo motif she struggles with and must come to terms with throughout the show.

She falls for two vampire brothers who bring nothing but more hell into her life, she finds out she's adopted, her birth mother is a vampire and a piece of shit, her birth father is her insane negligent Uncle John, she's lost more loved ones than one can count over and over again, and she's constantly paranoid and never safe because she's a doppleganger with special blood that many dangerous supernatural creatures want.

"But she's whinyyy and a crybabyyy😩..."

As if one of her friends or family aren't on the brink of death every episode. Elena didn't do enough crying if we're being honest.

Elena is by no means a perfect, innocent character. A lot of people are right about her flaws; she can be very selfish with a what-about-me & and look-at-me-this-isn't-you complex and she's constantly getting away with a lot shit since she's the main character. And a lot people say she never faces any consequences but.... she does.... and it's called...

VAMPIRE!ELENA

THAT'S IT! That's where everyone says her character went completely wrong, her character completely falls apart. But I'd argue that Vampire!Elena is a culmination of all her descions coming back to bite her in the ass.

Throughout S1-3, Elena struggles with survivors guilt. She should've gone off the bridge with her parents. She's depressed, she's moody, she's "whiny" all while feeling like the supposed "love of her life" is trying to "fix her" when she's not ready.

In season 4 episode 10, Elena clearly states that Stefan looks at her like she's a broken toy that needs to be fixed. I could go on a whole rant on what I think Stefan's problems are but to sum it all up — Stefan turned into a vampire at 17 years old — a teenager — and spends his entire vampire life struggling with his heightened personality and his Ripper Gene which led him down a path to losing everyone he's ever loved.

(He killed his own abusive father, lost his best friend due to his own brother who he forced to turn with him and now wants him dead after a wedge is driven between them.)

I say all that to say I get Stefan's character. He's scared and insecure, similar to Elena, to be alone and lose everyone he cares about. However, all of his efforts to better himself and relationships only drives people away. People bring up Damon killing Elena's brother, Jeremy, all the time

(again.. HE WAS WEARING THE GILBERT RING! HE'S FINE! YOU DON'T ACTUALLY GIVE A FUCK ABOUT JEREMY, NOBODY DOES!)

But NOBODY talks about Stefan endangering Jeremy and almost getting him killed by forcing him to continue the Hunter's Mark because he thought Elena being human again would make her be in love with him again. (sorry but that's fucking insane😭😭😭!!)

Stefan wasn't only afraid of losing Elena, he was also afraid of losing her to his brother. All these efforts drove Elena away, right into the arms of the person he wanted to keep her away from.

I think Elena felt as if Stefan was just like everyone else who wanted "the old Elena" back. The person that Elena use to be before the accident that the show alludes to in the first season. But that Elena is dead and gone, she'll never be the same person she was before going off that bridge. Apart of her died that night and again when she went off the bridge for the second time and became a vampire.

Elena struggles with being a vampire and basically dying twice and instead of being supportive Stefan immediately wants to fix and change her. Damon is the only one she feels free and alive with. A statement Elena makes herself throughout the show. Despite the stupid discourse over the Sire Bond, Damon was the one she felt the safest with after that plotline was resolved.

But enough about comparing those brothers, this is about ELENA! You know who she gets compared to..?

KATHERINE

KATHERINE IS A LOSER!

Before you raise your pitchforks, I love Katherine. Great character, great villain, but she's a loser!

People LOVE to compare Katherine and Elena!

"Katherine's such a badass and Elena is a whiny crybaby." But I would argue the opposite.

See Katherine's backstory here, despite everything Katherine's been through, the show makes a point that while, yes, Katherine is a survivor, she's also an avoidant runner. She spends 500 years running from the big bad Klaus and once he fianlly lets her go she continues torture, manipulate, and harrass people.

She continues her streak of only whining and complaining about the life she never had because of the things that happened to her, which... fair!

However, despite being given several chances with a romance with Elijah, a life with her daughter as a mother, all the people she's ever wronged helping her and forgiving her on her death bed, taking over Elena's body and essentially starting over in a new life and even being THE QUEEN OF HELL... it was never enough. Nothing was ever enough for Katherine.

She was given many chances to change, to finally LIVE HER LIFE but she chose to continue down her path of destruction. Which, in my opinion, is fine for her character! LET KATHERINE BE THE SAD AND TRAGIC CHARACTER SHE IS! She doesn't have to be some anti-hero badass.

The contrast of Katherine and Elena, two girls who had their lives and innocence stolen from them at a young age thanks to tragic events out of their control and two vampire brothers, is great and executed as well as TVD writing could do (infamously known for shitty writing and plot holes but I digress).

The pieces to the K/E puzzle were so obviously placed, Katherine who was jealous of Elena living the life she never got, chose the path of selfishness and power, and Elena chose the path of love and regrowth and not letting her past define her.

But viewers missed the big picture. Katherine is a survivor but where did that get her? Dead and unloved. Besides freedom from Klaus, she didn't get a single thing she desired. Not a life with Stefan or Elijah or as a mother with her daughter or as Elena Gilbert or Queen of Hell! No! She lost everything and blamed Elena. SHE LOST! SHE'S A LOSER!

She survived, but she didn't live.

In my opinion, Elena is the real survivor. She didn't let her past consume and lead her to a similar fate as Katherine. She chose to be selfless and to love again after being hurt.

She chose to be alive.

SO BACK TO THE PROMPT....

Why do y'all hate emotional women?

"Elena has experienced more grief than anyone I've ever met." - Sherrif Liz Forbes

Every character has went through a lot and have done similar, if not worst, things as Elena as a result yet she's the most hated character?

There's a pattern of fans hating certain female characters who are more sensitive and cry instead of bury their feelings and just punch a man and suddenly get crowned "Most Badass Female Character". Characters, not just female, expressing their emotions is strong and badass and might inspire audiences to do the same and not keep grief in and become self destructive. It's healthy and natural and makes the character not so one note.

It's not fair to compare Elena's trauma and experiences to other characters (espically not Bonnie, that's topic for a whole other post). But why do other characters get a pass despite being ten times more flawed and problematic?

Why are certain characters able to cry, complain, self destruct, fuck someone over, etc but Elena can't?

Genunine question.. let's discuss...

-*- I wasn't able to fully delve into my thoughts on Elena and certain TVD characters, plot points, theme, etc because this post will be 50 pages long. This is the brief version.

***There will be a part 2 to this post where I delve deeper into the trend of hating characters like Elena.

#the vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #elena gilbert #discussion #fandom #essay #character #for the girls #delena

[macthedrag0n]

another day, another oc insert!

Rare Occurrence

Rating: General Audience

Relationship: Majima Goro & Original Female Character

Tags: One Shot, Yakuza 1 Spoilers, Father-Daughter Relationship, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Stabbing, Hospitals, Swearing

Word Count: 2,027

-> [AO3 LINK] <-

Ever since she waltzed into Kamurocho (as well as his life) nine years ago, Goro Majima made it a point to be the only person to take his daughter to and from the train station before and after school. Sure, he could easily order one of his subordinates to drive her around, but this was his daughter, his sweet baby girl who had a huge target on her back just by existing. It was his duty as her father and protector to ensure her safety when she wasn’t at school or home. That being said, there were occurrence where there was no way he could be there, so naturally, he sent his most trusted man to go in his place.

This most trusted man was obviously Nishida.

The sight of her father’s second-in-command waiting for her in front of an unmarked car was (ironically) not a strange sight for fifteen-year-old Renko. She knew Nishida quite well and trusted him just as much as Majima himself did (although the patriarch would never admit such a sentiment), but his appearance in what had mainly been her father’s place in her daily routine was setting off all the alarm bells in her head. 

“Welcome home, Young Miss.” Nishida greeted Ren with a respectful bow of his head. “I hope your day was pleasant.”

Ren didn’t hesitate to voice her concern when she finally stopped a few steps in front of him. “Where’s my dad?”

The nerves were practically crystal clear on Nishida’s face. His eyes were averted to the side and his body language was tense, as if he was bracing for some sort of physical attack.

“The boss is a bit tied up at the moment.” He responded, just barely meeting her eyes. “So he sent me to collect you instead.”

Ren furrowed her brows. “’Tied up’? Can you be more specific?”

“Uh…” Nishida hesitated before quickly turning on his heel and opening the backseat passenger door. “He wants me to bring you home without delay. We should get going.”

Even a blind person could see how obvious Nishida was trying to avoid the question, but Ren followed his request and climbed into the back seat. Nishida wasted no time in getting in the driver’s seat and pulling the car from the curb.

“Are you just not going to tell me what’s going on?” Asked Ren, the concern from before now starting to turn into anxiety.

“Not out in the open.” Nishida responded, staring ahead at the traffic before him. “Nishikiyama Family wandering about.”

Ren nodded. As much as Majima stretched himself thin to shield her from his true career as a high-ranking Yakuza, she wasn’t stupid. The man doesn’t have a single discreet bone in his body. I mean, was he genuinely trying to convince Ren he was just some self-made entrepreneur when he walked around in only a tacky snake-skin jacket and outdated leather pants?

“How bad is it?” Ren asked, now leaning forward as close to the driver’s seat as she could get.

Nishida pressed his lips into a thin line, still hesitating to disclose anything to the teenager. Maybe Majima ordered him to keep his mouth shut so her asking all these questions was making him go through some internal conflict? 

But finally, when Nishida did speak the truth, Ren half wished he just kept his mouth shut.

“Your father’s in the hospital.”

Ren froze in her seat. Her dad? In the hospital? He hadn’t gone since before Kiryu-san was sent to prison (ironically because the former was doing something stupid in a failed attempt to impress the latter). Had something happen when she was in school? He was fine when he dropped her off. Or at least, he seemed fine. He didn’t have any major health issues as far as she was aware. But then again, if Majima was suffering from something, would he even tell her in the first place?

“He’s not dying or anything like that.” Nishida continued, most-likely to break the tense silence growing in the car. “Just got stabbed in a fight.”

“He got stabbed?” Ren’s voice rose to a volume that made Nishida flinch. “What the fuck was he doing? Scrapping with street kids for pocket change?”

“Language, Renko-san.” Nishida sighed as he pulled onto the street that would lead them to his boss’s apartment. “But no, he got ambushed by some members of a rival family. They thought they could get more recognition for pummeling and humiliating the notorious Mad Dog of Shimano.”

“So what did my dad do?”

“Took them all by himself. One against… five, I think? He managed to take them all down when an extra one came out of nowhere and got him in the gut with a blade.”

“Shi- Shoot.” Ren corrected herself just as Nishida gave her a look in the rear-view mirror. “When did all of this happen?”

“About three hours ago.” The car then made its final stop on the curb in front of luxurious-looking apartment building. “I am actually supposed to go pick him up when he gets discharged later, so you will have to stay home by yourself for a bit.”

Ren looked at the Yakuza with a confused look. “How do you know he’s getting discharged so soon?”

Nishida held up his phone. “Been getting regular updates from the guys still at the hospital with him. Luckily, the blade didn’t hit anything important and he just needed a few stitches.”

Ren’s shoulders slumped almost comically in relief. “Good… that’s good.” She then grabbed her schoolbag from the floorboard and shimmied her way across the backseat to the door facing the sidewalk. “Please call me when you’re on your way with him, okay?”

Nishida smiled warmly. “Of course. Take it easy until then, alright?”

“I’ll definitely try. Thanks, Nishida.” And with that, Ren slipped out of the car and made her way into the building.

————

It was a bit past midnight when Ren was awoken by a loud commotion coming from the living room. Rubbing her eyes, she threw on a sweater from a nearby chair and made her way out of her room just in time to catch a glimpse of an all-too-familiar snake-skin jacket. Sure enough, Majima was bracing himself against the kitchen counter when she came out into the main space, but there was a pained grimace on his face until he saw her, in which he forced his typically carefree grin.

“Renko-chan~!” Majima greeted his daughter with an attempted sing-song tone. “What are yah doin’ up so late? I thought yah conked out by now.”

Ren wasted no time approaching her father, smiling. “I was, but you woke me up.” She then scanned her eyes over his body for any visable signs of that day’s events. “Are you okay? Are you in any pain?”

Majima huffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Perfectly fine. Ya should have seen the poor bastards that jumped me. Had them crying for their mamas before I even broke a sweat.”

“I’m sure you did, dad.” Ren was now moving toward the stove. “Are you hungry then? Or maybe you want some tea? I can heat up a kettle and there’s leftover takoyaki in the fridge we can split.”

This quick succession of questions seemed to sober up Majima enough to frown at his daughter. “Since when do ya offer to make tea and share meals? You’ve always refused to touch the stove and threaten to claw my eye out if I even think about touching yer food.”

Ren shuffled her feet and scratched at her collarbone, a peculiar habit Majima knew she did when she was trying a hide something. “Well, you just got home and who knows what kind of garbage they tried to feed you at the hospital. I know you hate what they got and you love takoyaki. Besides, after all that’s happened today, I’m fine with sharing it.”

Majima was frowning now, but it wasn’t an angry dad frown. It was a concerned dad frown, and a frown Ren knew very well. Majima was always concerned about her, scared that something bad was happening and she was refusing to tell him. He had the same frown when she didn’t tell him about how she had been catcalled by some guys on the street (what led to him escorting her everywhere) or when she lied about how she was being bullied by some girls in her class (which then resulted in her switching homerooms). If she didn’t tell him about what was going on in her life, how was he supposed to fix all the bad things?

“Were ya worried about me today?” Majima asked, dropping his voice into its natural lower tone, something he did during the rare moments it was just them two at home.

Ren felt the pain in her throat before her eyes welled up with tears. She let out a soft hiccuping sound, making Majima push himself off the counter and make his way around the counter to pull her into a tight one-armed hug. He didn’t care if the contact was making his still-sensitive stitches throb, all he was focusing on was how his little girl was tightly grasping his jacket and the soft weeping emanating from her.

“It’s alright, kid.” He attempted to soothe her while pressing his cheek into her hair. “I’m still here. Nothin’s gonna take me out anytime soon. I promise. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

The two of them stayed like this until Ren’s weeping dissolved into soft breathing and she finally pushed herself away from his chest. Majima’s heart ached at the sight of strands of black hair sticking to his daughter’s red tear-stained face.

“Please stop getting into stupid fights.” She managed to murmur, looking up weakly at her father. “I don’t wanna come home and hear that something worse happened.”

Majima didn’t speak immediately. He couldn’t promise to not fight anymore smartass punks that decide to go toe-to-toe with him, but maybe he can tone down on seeking them out for an adrenaline hit? It’s just been so long since he’s actually had a decent equal brawl that left his heart racing and feeling what it was really like to be alive. His dear Kiryu-chan has been in the slammer for five years now, and there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t miss him (of course, he would never admit such a thing to anyone, even his own kid).

After a few more moments of silence, Majima sighed. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll stop pickin’ fights, but only because it bothers yah so much. Don’t want yah losing sleep over your old man tryin’ to fighting everyone on the street.”

Ren took a deep breath before a soft smile formed on her lips. “Thanks, dad.”

“Anythin’ for you, kid. Now, you should really head to bed. Got a big day ahead of yah.”

Ren groaned. “It’s just another boring day at school.”

Majima scoffed. “Haw? You think ‘m sending yer ass to school tomorrow? Nah, yer stayin’ here with me for the day. Need someone to look after me while I’m healin’ up.”

“But I really shouldn’t miss anymore school-“

“Oh, so yah want to go to school tomorrow?”

“I didn’t say that.”

A few chuckles were shared between the father and daughter before Ren finally let out a long yawn. She didn’t even try to deny it before she was pressing her forehead into Majima’s chest, which made him chuckle again and give her head an affectionate pat.

“Goodnight, dad.”

“Night, kid. Sweet dreams.”

And with that, Ren stepped around her father and shuffled her way back down the hall and into her bedroom. Once Majima heard the sound of her bedroom door clicking shut, he slumped against the counter once again, letting out a long exhausted sigh.

He didn’t like making his little girl upset, but this kind of shit came with the job. If he had sent her back to Osaka when she first showed up…

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. No, he was gonna do better. He had to do better.

Anything for his kid.

#ao3 crosspost #fanfic #fanfiction #oc fanfiction #oc insert #yakuza x oc #yakuza oc #yakuza #yakuza kiwami #majima goro #goro majima #goro majima x reader #majima goro x reader #fluff #sngst #macthedrag0n

[cryingabtab]

Save Me A Spark - Part 16

Warnings: Angst, Crying

Pairing: Austin Butler x Cassie Hale (OFC)

Word Count: 1.4k

“All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire.” ~ Edgar Allan Poe

Cassie awoke on Rory’s couch with a pounding headache. Hangovers are a bitch. Especially when you’re already dehydrated from crying. She rubbed her eyes and glanced around. Rory was asleep on the other side of the couch. Hazel and Ash were nowhere to be seen. Cassie wondered if they’d gone home or crashed in the guest room. She supposed she’d find out later.

She reluctantly pushed herself up off the couch with a quiet groan, squinting her eyes in an attempt to relieve the pulsing pressure behind them. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and the bottle of ibuprofen that was set out the night before. As she swallowed the medicine, she glanced over at the clock on the oven. It was 7 in the morning. She groaned quietly, knowing that she probably wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, no matter how bad her head hurt. She made her way back over to the couch, grabbing her phone off the coffee table before laying down on the couch again.

Before she could get herself curled up and comfy in the throw blanket she had been using, her phone began to ring. She stared at the caller ID for a moment, her heart jumping into her throat. Her next door neighbor, a precious elderly woman, was the one calling. Did something happen to her? How fast would she be able to get to her if something did? She wasn’t home. Quickly, Cassie answered the phone. “Miss Opal? Is everything okay?” she questioned upon answering, her voice groggy, but urgent.

“Cassie, sweetheart,” Miss Opal responded. “Everything is fine. I’m assuming you aren’t home. But there’s a young man sitting in the hallway in front of your door. I think he fell asleep. I wanted to see if you knew him before I did anything about it.”

Cassie closed her eyes and let out a loud sigh through her nose. “Is he blonde?”

“He is,” she hummed. “You know him?”

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Cassie grumbled, rolling her eyes. How dare he show up at her door after all of this? “Just leave him there,” Cassie continued. “I’ll be there to get him off the floor soon.”

“Alright sweetheart,” she sighed. Then she hung up.

Cassie pressed the palms of her hands into her sore eyes, groaning louder than she intended to. Luckily Rory didn’t wake up. She ordered an Uber before closing her phone and standing up. She quickly, but quietly, found a notepad and pen, quickly scrawling out a quick explanation and setting it on top of Rory’s phone that sat on the coffee table. Then, she grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes, and took a deep breath before stealthily leaving out the door to meet her Uber. She knew this was going to be the longest ten minute drive ever. And she was not looking forward to the destination.

Austin woke up to quick footsteps rushing towards him. He lifted his head from where it rested on the door, wincing at the dull ache in his neck. His eyes softened and welled up with new tears when he saw the source of the footsteps.

Cassie stopped in front of him. “Get off the floor,” she whispered through gritted teeth. The look on her face was that of annoyance, but you couldn’t miss the sadness in her eyes.

“Cassie,” Austin whispered, not trusting his already trembling voice. “Please I-”

“Austin. Get off of the fucking floor.” She crossed her arms as she looked down at him. She took deep breaths as her thoughts raced. I just need to get him out of here, she thought, I can’t cry until then.

Austin choked back his tears as he slowly stood up and steadied himself. He pointed his focus back at Cassie, tears beginning to stream down his face like an endless river. “Please,” his voice trembled. “Can we talk?”

“You need to leave,” Cassie whispered, now looking up at him, arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “You can’t be here.” Her voice broke on the last word as the dam broke and thick, heavy streams of intense emotion ran down her cheeks. She was pissed at the entire situation. The absurdity of it all. The audacity of this man.

“No,” Austin took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Cassie couldn’t even bear to look at him anymore, her head cocked to the side and eyes angled at the floor. She was getting more and more overwhelmed by the second. She was trying her hardest to keep her voice down, which proved difficult trying to talk with the lump in her throat. “And even if there was, I still wouldn't want to talk to you.”

Austin pressed his lips into a thin line and squeezed his eyes shut. No sound but soft sniffling filled the quiet hallway. “Fine,” he finally whispered after what seemed like an eternity. “Just know, Cass, I am so, so sorry. And I am going to do everything I can to make this right.” With his head hung low, he began to make his way down the hallway, away from Cassie.

She slowly turned to watch him walk away. His shoulders were slumped, head down, and his hands constantly wiped at his face. He looked awful when they were face to face and he looked just as awful walking away. For some reason, this made her cry harder. She hurriedly unlocked her door and went inside before allowing herself to sob. She cried until she physically couldn’t. Then, instead of falling asleep like her body desperately begged her to, she grabbed her guitar and her notebook and began to write.

After hours of strumming and scribbling, Cassie had zoned out staring at one of her lyric sheets. A loud pounding at the door caused her to jump back into reality. She rubbed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh as the knocking continued. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called out weakly as she stood from the couch. She opened the door and there stood her bandmates. She moved to the side so that they could come in.

“Dude we’ve been trying to call you,” Hazel started.

“I’ve been busy. Didn’t hear it,” Cassie murmured, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed.

“Well what happened?” Ash asked.

Cassie explained to them everything that had transpired that morning. She seemed eerily calm, but in reality she just felt numb.

“So he just left?” Asked Ash, eyebrows furrowed.

Cassie nodded and hummed in response, not meeting anyone’s eye.

No one knew what to say, exchanging looks of confusion amongst themselves. The silent communication was interrupted by another knock at the door. This time, two quick heavy raps. Cassie groaned as she trudged back over to the door and swung it open.

“Delivery for Cassie Hale,” said the chipper man at the door.

“That’s me…” she said, raising her eyebrows. “What is it?”

The man grabbed a large vase from the floor. It was filled with black and red roses, and some baby’s breath spread throughout. It was a beautiful arrangement; she couldn’t deny that. The man handed the vase to Cassie and was on his way. She walked back in and bumped the door shut with her foot before setting the vase down and checking the card.

The girls huddled around her as she read it. She let out a borderline growl before tossing it on the counter and stomping to her room, shutting the door behind her.

Rory scrambled to grab the card. Hazel and Ash gathered around her to read it.

‘ “You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have.”

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

I miss you. I’m sorry.

Love, Austin’

They all three rushed to Cassie’s room. Thank God she hadn’t locked it. Upon entering, they saw Cassie laying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t even look at them when they came in.

“Talk to us,” Hazel sighed as she walked over and forced her to sit up.

“I don’t like that he has such a hold on me,” Cassie started. “I don’t want to be upset. I shouldn’t be upset. Not when we just got signed and are that much closer to making our dreams come true.” Her voice got louder as she spoke.

“Well,” Ash hummed. “How about we all go out tonight? We can celebrate our victories. And, it might help distract you from this shitty situation.”

There was a moment of silence as Cassie stared at Ash, considering her suggestion. She decided at that moment that she was not going to shed any more tears over this.

“Yeah,” she finally agreed. “That sounds like a great idea.”

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fan fic #austin butler fan fiction #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x oc #austin butler x ofc #save me a spark #save me a spark series #cryingabtab #cryingabtab works

[thesweetnessofspring]

Oh God lol do NOT even get me started on the "real or not real" scene...I say as I come into your inbox and assuredly get started on the "real or not real" scene PFFFF. Like, hi hello I'm an old THG vet and have sidestepped two fandoms away at this point, and yet this STILL drives me bonkers bananas every time I consider it.

It makes me so mad for a few reasons here.

Francis did not shy away from showing Katniss' feelings towards Peeta in the previous movies. Hell, he even went OUT OF HIS WAY to show them, as he gave us additional content in Mockingjay Part 1. He gave us kisses, and a dream sequence, and Katniss' depression and devastation as she saw him crumbling away ((not to mention the infamous "i love...you...pee...ta" thing in catching fire right before she passes out on the hovercraft even though that one's up for debate and could have entirely just been an acting choice from jen or just wishful thinking from us but still lol like HELLO???)).

Along those lines, if we already got confirmation that Katniss loved him, and got to see that on the screen, then why?? Was it denied from us??? In the final movie???? In the movie where it realistically needed to come to a head????? In the movie where it was the LAST opportunity to portray it for audiences???????

I recall there being some sort of commentary from Nina or Francis or SOMEONE where they were saying that they couldn't have a love scene because it was a "war movie." And like...That is some shaky ass logic if that was the case. Because uhhhhh one of the biggest themes in the entirety of the series is HOPE? That uhhhhhh idk LIFE CAN BE GOOD AGAIN??? You know, just one of the largest lines at the end of the very book itself jsdkls. Like yes, Mockingjay was centered on fighting and war, but then it ended with gentleness. It ended with Suzanne showing how life continues on, and how goodness and peace can still be found after so much pain and suffering. Soooo to be like "lol we can't even show a kiss between our two leads because bang boom pow war movie" is just so??? Backwards?????

Alsooooo they can show Katniss and Peeta with kids but can't show them being in love? Because THAT makes sense lol. Because THAT won't be a jarring transition for general audiences at all. Because THAT won't further the whole argument that "Peeta forced Katniss into motherhood." Since they went from just a dry ass little cuddle in bed that almost seemed to be a regression from their Catching Fire cuddles and their dream cuddle in MJ1 to suddenly having a family. Like mMMMmMMMMM alrighty.

...Lol me honking my clown nose over my previous statement of "not getting started" BUT LIKE...YOU FEEL ME LMAO. YOU UNDERSTAND.

It's just something that will haunt me no matter how many other fandoms I cartwheel through.

YES, GO OFF! I am here for it and agree 100%.

I haven't really gone back to the movies after watching them in the theater until recently and I was just so underwhelmed with Everlark in general in the movies, though I agree I think in MJ part 1 they were doing more heavy lifting with the dream sequence and Josh and Jen's acting (but if I counted right, we only got four Everlark kisses in the whole franchise. FOUR, and only one was really romantic (the sewer one was more heart-wrenching and desperate)). I hadn't watched the movies all in succession until just recently, but for me that aspect was a big ol' flop. I honestly don't know how people who hadn't read the books ever shipped Everlark from the movies. I watched with my brother (who only read book 1 like 15 years ago) and he kept calling Gale Katniss's "boyfriend" and I was like NOOOO STOPPPP THIS IS AN EVERLARK HOUSEHOLD.

But you would think they would want to show Katniss and Peeta really did fall in love, and not just platonic love like so many people accuse it of being, but actual romantic and sexual love. Instead they just cuddle??? Like don't get me wrong, I love all Everlark cuddles but it's not enough to stop there--it's where they were at in CF. And if they didn't want a sex scene (even a PG-13 one) it's like, okay, whatever, I disagree, but not everyone does read "so after" as a sex scene so I could deal with a tamer interpretation. But no kiss???? No passion???? When Katniss tells us the exact opposite in the book??? Katniss is just supposed to be this like, numb person just wanting to absorb heat off of Peeta and treat him like a pillow??? No sir. No. We need that HUNGER Katniss felt for Peeta to be showing up.

I think what pissed me off, too, is that they really upped Gale in the franchise imo, especially CF. Katniss gave him three kisses in the CF movie, and one of them (before she goes off to the Quarter Quell) was not in the book. So it's okay for Katniss to kiss Gale before she goes off to her death, when she's trying to tie up her life in D12 and a rebellion is about to begin, but it's too unfathomable for Katniss to even kiss Peeta after the war when they're safe and she's able to focus on building the remainder of her life with the man she's chosen to be with, the man she loves???? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE FRANCIS.

AND LAST THING kind of tying into the Gale/Peeta contrast. I feel like the movies still viewed Gale as the traditional romantic lead--very manly and heroic in a traditional way, so he gets kissed without cameras around, like Katniss really wanted him physically, and only because of the Prim thing was he rejected. Whereas Peeta, who is pretty revolutionary in being a kind, warm romantic lead in an action/war franchise, was treated like some neutered dog. Good for cuddles but not passion, like a "smart" decision or a "well I'll take it" instead of the conclusion that book Katniss comes to, which is that she feels warmth and hunger and passion for him BECAUSE he is also safety and hope, and that is incredibly sexy.

#mockingjay #everlark

[crowtrobotx]

As promised, for my beloved Heisenmoots, I have written a little something. Just a little extra. A little bit of Ethan suffering because he has to be friends with the worst old man on earth for the sake of Rose. As a treat. <3 This was kind of hastily written as an introduction to a modern/no village AU - if people like it I will happily add continuations to this and make it a little side series, just for yucks. I hope you enjoy and I love you all a disgusting amount. Title: A Rose and A Butterfly Word count: 3478 Characters: Ethan Winters, Rose Winters, Mia Winters, Karl Heisenberg, fem!OC, daughter!OC Warnings: None (unless you’re not cool with cursing)

When Rose came home and excitedly announced that she’d made a new friend, Ethan Winters couldn’t have been happier. He worried excessively about her at the best of times. With the move to a new town after Mia’s recent job change, he knew that they risked making her already precarious social situation even more fragile. Rose had struggled with forming lasting relationships at her old school, due in no small part to the rampant bullying that seemed to have gone unchecked by every single adult responsible for her with Ethan and Mia weren’t present. Perhaps it was a good thing that they all were getting a fresh start. Still, Ethan had tried not to let his expectations run too high. This had happened before, after all. Sometimes it turned out the other kid or kids in question were lying, pulling off some elaborate scheme to just break her heart in the end. Other times they simply drifted apart, deciding that they didn’t want to associate with someone so far down in the social pecking order. From his vantage point, Ethan was pretty sure being a young girl sounded like the most miserable, complicated experience he could imagine.

Fortunately, this time was different. He pulled up to the pick up location outside of the small town’s middle school to see Rose waiting with a much shorter, stockier girl, dark hair wrangled into two messy buns atop her head. There was a woman standing next to them who looked like she was probably her mother, given how their wild curls matched and the way Rose’s friend kept throwing her a pleading look that Ethan recognized well as the please, I’ll never ask for anything ever again I swear face. He rolled down the window of his SUV and waved politely at the two strangers.

“Dad!” Rose shouted excitedly. “This is my friend Lottie! Can I go over to her house?”

Before Ethan could even open his mouth to respond, Lottie had bounded up to the side of the vehicle and was peering up at him with a fiery gaze. “My mom already said yes,” she explained with a firm nod. “I promise we’re not a family of serial killers. Papa’s fridge in the garage is busted anyway, nowhere to store the organs.”

“Jesus - Lottie. Back up, sweetheart.”

Her mother urged her back onto the sidewalk and approached, laughing awkwardly. She reminded Ethan a bit what he imagined a cool art teacher would look like, with her leather jacket and dark jeans contrasted by several loud, colorful accessories. He could see a couple of tattoos poking out from under her clothes and the glint of a septum piercing flashed in the autumn sunshine. She lowered her voice and scratched the back of her neck, looking apologetic.

“I’m sorry, she’s–”

“She’s fun,” Ethan said with a sincere laugh. He could tell why they got along already - Rose had a wicked sense of humor and Lottie had already made it known that she lacked a filter. “I’m Ethan. I hear our daughters are friends.”

“Kris,” the woman’s shoulders relaxed at last. “I know you don’t know me, or my demon child, but I’m totally fine with Rose coming over. You wanna follow me so you know where she is? We can exchange numbers there.”

Rose practically buzzed with excitement the entire drive. It made Ethan nearly want to cry. The poor kid had been through so much - he had done all he could to protect her and nurture her, as had Mia - but there came a point when the world inevitably sunk its claws in and all he could do was sit back and pray that he’d equipped her properly to fight her battles. So lost in thought he was as they drove to a wooded, semi-rural area nearly at the city limits that he didn’t notice Kris’s “How am I driving? I’m not. This vehicle is driven by 700 rats.” bumper sticker until they’d nearly arrived.

Okay, this family was a teensy bit eccentric. It was fine. Rose seemed happy, that’s all that mattered. Kris appeared to be a perfectly competent person and the way his daughter talked about her friend (and how she’d decked a kid twice her size who’d said something nasty to Rose), he had no reason to think these weren’t decent people.

After pulling down the driveway to the house, obscured entirely from the road by thick trees, Lottie and Rose bounded out of their respective vehicles to meet on the lawn and whisper excitedly about whatever little plans they’d concocted. They ignored Ethan’s inquiries about any homework that needed done before scurrying up to the wide, covered porch. Ethan heard a dog barking excitedly when the front door opened, followed by Rose’s giggling and Lottie yelling “Sturm! Get down! You big idiot…”

“I’m sorry about the rusted out cars and shit out back,” Kris said, appearing at his side and gesturing to a rather impressive pile of junk partially visible behind the house. “My husband is a mechanic. He keeps swearing he’s gonna restore that crap or at least break it down for parts but I think aliens will invade before that happens. I promise the inside of the place doesn’t look like that - despite his best efforts.”

Ethan smiled. “Oh, it’s fine. You should see what my living room looks like when my wife decides to go on one of her crafting sprees.” Of course, a bunch of rusting metal that looked like a tetanus amusement park was a little different from a bunch of paper scraps and glue, but who was counting. “A mechanic, huh? We’re new in town. Would be nice to know a guy who could take a look at our cars. He any good?”

Ethan had said the last part as a joke.

“Oh, he sucks.” Ethan gaped. Kris smirked, looking fondly toward the garage. “I mean, he’s good at what he does. Really good. But he’s a cranky weirdo with the social skills of a feral raccoon. And yet, he’s my feral raccoon. I’ll make sure he fixes your shit if you ever need it.”

If the girls hadn’t already gone inside, Ethan might have considered suddenly remembering a very important engagement that he and Rose absolutely had to attend under any circumstances. His anxieties were quelled slightly over the next few minutes while he and Kris dissolved into pleasant small talk - he had the feeling she and Mia might get along well. They exchanged phone numbers and agreed upon a pickup time, Ethan insisting that she didn’t need to drive over and drop her off after offering to make dinner and ensure that any school projects got done.

“Better make sure that nothing’s on fire yet inside,” Kris said before bidding him farewell and disappearing through a side door.

Ethan stood still for a moment, trying to dispel his ever-present worry. He eventually took a few paces toward the car before, in the silence that followed Kris and the girls’ departure, he noticed the sound of a radio emanating from the garage. It was what Rose affectionately referred to as dad rock; this time it was “Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival. And it was loud. He supposed they didn’t really have to worry about bothering any neighbors out here, but he was almost offended on behalf of the local wildlife.

I should introduce myself, Ethan thought. It was only polite - his daughter was probably going to be coming over to the man’s house with regularity. Kris had made him sound like a curmudgeon, but Ethan was used to that sort of thing at work. At least half of the people who contacted his department were old guys who felt emasculated by the fact that they couldn’t figure out how to convert a Word document into a PDF.

He could handle him. How bad could he be?

As Ethan drew closer to the garage, he became aware of the sound of - and he didn’t use this word lightly - utterly horrific, off-tune singing accompanied by the light tink tink of someone trying to drum along in time with a wrench. He couldn’t see anyone through all the stacked up boxes, car parts and frankly odd bits and bobs - the whole place looked like it was one small seismic event from collapsing. Not to mention that the place smelled like a combination auto body shop and cigar emporium. He wasn’t sure what was more polite - to yell a greeting over the cacophony, or to quietly enter and risk scaring the man.

He opted for the former. “Hello? Mr. Uh. Lottie’s dad? Sir?” Ethan grimaced at his own unwieldy introduction.

The radio almost instantaneously shut off, followed by a frankly eerie silence. Ethan froze. He cleared his throat, trying to sound as pleasant as possible despite feeling like he’d just walked into a horror movie set. “I’m Rose’s dad? Lottie’s friend? I just dropped her off and wanted to–”

The hidden man poked his welding mask-clad head around the corner at last. His shoulder-length gray hair had frizzed in every direction, looking like the world’s dirtiest halo. He seemed to give Ethan a once over before lifting the mask up, grinning maniacally through his unkempt beard.

“Oh, so you’re Butterfly’s friend’s papa! Didn’t realize you were coming over! Have a seat over here, don’t be shy!”

Ethan was taken aback. This wasn’t the grouchy old man he’d been anticipating - he’d thoroughly expected to exchange a few manly grunts with him before retreating home to nurse a bottle of merlot and feel like he’d been chastised by his peepaw.

“Come on, come on, don’t got all day.”

Ah. There it was.

Ethan squeezed himself through the mess until he found a blessedly semi-clear space, complete with workbench and a couple of metal chairs. He could see now that the man had been working deep in an old car’s engine, and a pretty one at that. He couldn’t quite discern the make and model - a Firebird, perhaps? - but even in the low light he could see the cherry red paint, dashboard hula girl and goofy, fuzzy dice hanging in the rearview mirror. Ethan may not have been a big car guy but he knew a man’s baby when he saw one.

Lottie’s father leaned against the hood, arms crossed over a Def Leppard t-shirt that had seen better days, the print faded so much as to be near unrecognizable. Ethan sat down awkwardly in front of the workbench, charmed to see that in addition to the scattered blueprints and scribbled notes, there was an abundance of crayon drawings done no doubt by Lottie and pictures of her pinned everywhere on the corkboard hanging overhead. There were a couple of photos of him and his wife together, a couple magazine cutouts of antique vehicles, but to see this stereotypical looking man’s man dominate his space with pictures of and done by an 11 year old girl was strangely endearing.

“So,” the mechanic purred, “Lottie’s told me your girl and her are pals. Which means you and I have some bonding to do.”

“I guess so,” Ethan laughed, still somewhat wary. “I’m Ethan Winters. Rose is my daughter - we just moved here from the city a few months ago.”

“Heisenberg,” the man waved a hand, almost sounding bored. “Karl Heisenberg. I’m the poor asshole everyone around here calls when their shit breaks.”

“Yeah, Kris told me that you were a mechanic. I hope this isn’t presumptuous, but I’d love for you to take a look at my SUV when you have a chance - it started making this weird clunking noise when we were halfway through moving.”

“You met my wife?”

“I did, she–”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

Ethan laughed. Karl did not. This man is insane.

“I– uh, I wasn’t planning on it,” Ethan cleared his throat. He was frantically looking around now for the quickest exit, lest he end up on this week’s latest unexplained disappearance crime report. “We met up at school when the girls were out and we exchanged phone numbers just so we could coordinate play dates. I’m happily married myself, I assure you.”

At last, the mechanic’s serious face broke into a grin again.  “ Hah! Look at your face. Oh, calm down - I’m just yankin’ your leg. I know you’re not here for any nefarious purposes. You’d be pig slop in seconds if  you ever tried anything.” Ethan did not want to know what that meant. “You want a beer, Winters?”

Jesus, yes. Ethan nodded. “That would be great, thanks… Karl.”

Karl handed him an open, half drunk can of PBR that was sitting on a nearby stool. He fished around in the broken fridge Lottie had mentioned earlier, helping himself to a fresh one. Ethan stared at the can in his hand, wondering privately when the cast from Punked! was going to burst through the door.

“Yeah, my Lottie said your Rose was having problems with one of the local asshole kids,” Karl said thoughtfully, as if what he’d just done wasn’t incredibly bizarre and off-putting. “What’s her name, Alice? Always thought that kid was a dick. I’ve taught Butterfly from the day she could talk to hit first, ask questions later. Might not be the popular parenting technique these days, but I don’t want her ever taking shit from someone who she wouldn’t go to for advice. Sounds like your kid’s been having some problems.”

Ethan thumbed the beer tab, unsure of how much he wanted to disclose to this relative stranger. “We’ve had to move a few times because of her mom’s job,” he explained. “It’s been hard on her. I worry. This is the first time Rosie’s had a friend last more than a few weeks.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “Lottie’s a good kid. She ain’t gonna give your precious Rose grief unless she deserves it. By the way, what’s the deal? She stayin’ overnight or what?”

“It’s a Tuesday,” Ethan blinked. “School night? I wasn’t planning on it. Kris– uh, your wife said she’d give them dinner and then I was gonna come back around 7:30. If that’s alright?”

“Fine fine,” Karl took a swig from his can before swaggering over to an open toolbox, fishing through a massive selection of nuts and bolts. “Tuesday’s our movie night. Just wanted to make sure you’re not gonna be throwing off my plans. I’ve been working on this new popcorn machine prototype - those assholes at the patent office never appreciate my genius - that’s shaped like a dragon. It breathes popcorn out of its mouth like fire - fuckin’ sick, Winters. I think I fixed a little bug it had where it would, ah, also spew boiling hot butter into your face at the same time. Shame, that. Just because of a little thing like third degree burns, innovation stagnates.”

“Why.” Ethan stared. “Why… would someone want that?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Karl snarled, clearly offended. “You haven’t touched your drink I gave you, by the way.”

Ethan really needed to leave - Mia was probably wondering where on earth he was. He felt like he’d been hit by a bus, in all honesty. He’d gone from ecstatic to hear of Rose’s new friendship, to somewhat worried at her going to a new place, to simultaneously terrified and fascinated to meet the people he’d likely have to make nice with for his daughter’s sake. He wasn’t about to jeopardize the first good thing in her life in what felt like eternity, but he also had zero desire to spend any more time than necessary with this bizarre man he was getting extreme stoner uncle with a criminal history vibes from.

Mercifully, the tension was broken by an excited, high-pitched voice from outside.

“Papa! Look what Rose showed me!”

Lottie zipped through the maze of the garage with practiced ease, not paying any mind to Ethan. Karl’s face morphed from suspicious irritation to soft delight so quickly that it seemed like an entirely different man was standing in the room now, casting aside his drink to intercept his daughter and hoist her up into an affectionate embrace. Lottie shoved an item that Ethan recognized to be Rose’s small, engraved knife - a gift from Chris, one that had been entirely unnecessary but remained a prized possession nevertheless - into his face.

“Ah, she just has that in case of emergencies–” Ethan felt the need to explain, lest he look like a maniac in front of the actual maniac. He didn’t necessarily like that his daughter carried it around, but he also didn’t love the idea of her being completely unarmed in case of an emergent situation. His own life experiences had taught him that preparedness was far preferable to playing it safe, even if it wasn’t the way things should be.

“Fuckin’ cool,” Karl grinned like a madman again. “Too bad Mama won’t let you have one, huh? I’ll keep workin’ at her - don’t worry. Looks like plain old Ethan is more exciting than we thought.”

“Plain?” Ethan stammered.

Rosemary appeared at last, casting her father a hesitant smile. “We weren’t doing anything weird, I promise. Mrs. Heisenberg sent us outside because she uhm, she said she wanted to make sure Lottie’s dad wasn’t ‘terrorizing’ you.”

Karl feigned a look of hurt. “I can’t believe she’d ever believe me capable of such a thing! Oh, well. Never fear, Rose - your dad was just leaving, wasn’t he? And in one piece at that. You can assure the missus that nothing bad happened. We’re bros now, right? Ethan? Bros?”

“Papa,” Lottie rolled her eyes.

“We are not bros,” Ethan answered far, far too quickly. “Ah. Not yet.” Please god, not ever. “But, yes, I was just leaving. Thank you for looking after Rose. I’ll be back in a few hours. Unless you want to be picked up early?” He tried not to look too desperate while he waited for his daughter’s response.

“No, I’m good staying for dinner!” Rose rocked on her heels anxiously. “C’mon, Lottie, we better finish that science project so we can get to Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lottie groaned, resigned. “Papa, will you play with us later? When you’re done?”

Karl smirked, setting her down and giving a fiendish wink. “Only if you kids want your asses kicked.”

“Papa, you’ve literally never won–”

“Bye, girls!” he hummed happily. “Better get some practice in if you wanna have a prayer!”

The daughters exchanged a look before giggling at some secret joke and sprinting off again, leaving the two men in awkward silence again. Ethan stood, trying to think of a decent way to bid Karl farewell without expressing just how deranged he’d found this whole encounter. Fortunately for him, the mechanic spoke first, in a tone that seemed wholly different from their earlier interactions.

“They’re the best, huh? Those little girls. I’d raze a whole village to the ground if Lottie asked me to.”

Ethan blinked, taken aback. “I’d do the same for Rose,” he said without hesitation.

Karl looked back at him, oddly thoughtful for just long enough to be unnerving, before the demented sparkle returned to his eyes.

“So, anyway. When you come back to pick her up later, there’s this toaster I’ve been trying to modify that I want you to look at. To get the “every man” perspective or whatever. Ignore the fact that it sometimes talks about wondering if it has a soul or whatever, I’ll patch that out.”

“Oh, well see,” Ethan began walking back to his car at an unashamedly brisk pace. “Rose has a doctor’s appointment in the morning and I really shouldn’t linger. In fact, it might be my wife who comes and picks her up depending on how the yard work I’ve got piling up goes. But next time!”

Please let ‘next time’ be Rose’s graduation and no sooner.

“Winters! Hey! Get back here - ah, fuck you too. I’ll get your address from your wife and bring it over this weekend if tonight isn’t good! Are you even listening to me–”

Ethan Winters had never received a speeding ticket in his life. But as he peeled out of the Heisenberg driveway, still clutching the half full beer can, he wondered if it wouldn’t be worth it to put as much distance between himself and that strange man as humanly possible.

“Whatever,” he finally exhaled when he saw the dim glow of the main body of town coming into view. “He’ll probably forget all about me after a day or two. It’ll be fine. This is for Rose, after all. I can handle Lottie’s upsetting dad if it benefits her. What’s the worst that could happen?”

We’re bros now, right?

Ethan downed the rest of the drink once he was safely back in his own garage. It was going to be a long, long school year.

#not putting in the main tags bc i feel like all the people who knew these characters/read my fic are already followers/moots #but feel free to rb!! or don't lol i feel like this isn't very good but oh well #i just think ethan and karl are served so well by a deranged platonic one sided bromance #it is my favorite dynamic for them and i would love to write more of it #actually you know what I am putting it in the main tags fuck it #Karl Heisenberg #karl heisenberg x oc #Karl heisenberg fanfiction

[maimreddwhite]

reunion and turnabout spoilers

ok if someone put a gun to my head and told me that i had to choose who i thought, in my opinion, was the most tragic and fucked up ace attorney character, i would without hesitation say mimi miney. her life was filled with so much tragedy, pain, and suffering that its insane.

first things first, she was working in a shitty abusive workplace for god knows how long. they were mistreating her, overworking her, and turner grey was definitely not a caring boss. being exposed to that on its own can fuck someone up, but theres even more.

they have overworked her and exhausted her to the point where she cant even think straight, to the point where she cant even do her job correctly. so, some medications get mixed up, and she has to slowly realise that the patients under her care were dying. she will now have to carry the weight of that for the rest of her life. the lives of the 14 people; as well as the 14 families and friends of those people.

along with this, she also had to deal with legal shit. interviewers, police, people blaming her, news reporters, people showing up to her work, grey trying to pin the blame on her even though he was the one who caused the whole thing.

now, even though your life is absolutely horrible at the moment, there are at least two good things. first of all, you have a younger sister who cares about you, and you have an expensive car that you probably worked for so long to get.

unfortunately, she looses both those facts simply because of how stressed out and exhausted she was. her sister, someone who shes spent the past two decades living with, someone her, as an older sibling, were at least partially responsible for, dies a horrible death in that fire. i would also like to add that ini miney had the shortest lifespan out of any ace attorney character in the entire franchise. she was literally 20 years old. she died very young.

mimi would definitely feel responsible for this as she refused to let ini take over driving for her, a mistake which seemed harmless enough, she didnt intend to kill anybody, but look where that landed her.

im not even going to get into the physical pain but having your entire fucking face burnt off sounds. painful!

anyway, you thought shes been through enough, and that this entire experience has probably done an insane amount of damage on her. but no, she wakes up in that hospital, alive, and she looks in the mirror and shes forced to relive the guilt of that incident, shes forced to carry a reminder of it, everywhere she goes.

now, just think for a second about how terrifying becoming your dead sibling is. first of all, she does not get a chance to grieve properly. everybody around her, her friends, family, everybody she knew, was grieving mimi miney. she would have to watch as everyone she knows cries for someone who, in her eyes, doesnt even deserve it. nobody mourns the person who is dead, and you are the only one who can miss ini. you cant talk about ini to anybody. naturally this would fuck up the grieving process just a little.

hopefully mimi liked inis friends because those were the people she would have to hang out with for ages on end, and what if ini had a partner? would mimi just have to continue a relationship she feels nothing about? she would have to take every aspect of her sisters life, even the aspects she hates, and that would basically be her entire life.

being forced to constantly be around things that remind you of death, and things that remind you of your sister probably did not do wonders for you either! fast forward about a year of living in this absolute misery, and your old boss, somebody who caused every terrible thing that youve gone through, someone yoyve tried to distract yourself from, has now come into your life.

hes, all of a sudden, asking her about spirit channeling and if she could reccomend any. why? because he wants to threaten mimi at gunpoint to sign something that absolves him of all responsibility. shes angry, of course, but she cant show it. she cant show anything. obviously, she accepts, and she panics. she wouldnt know what to do it the truth came out, because then she would have to face herself, her guilt, and what she did.

while shes murdering grey, i would like to point out that ini mineys face is the last thing turner grey ever sees. the woman that he played a big role in killing, she murders him.

anyway, after the trial, for the first time in an entire fucking YEAR she has the ability to be mimi miney again. in that past year, a lot of fuckedup and traumatising things happened to her, so the logical conclusion would be to get some therapy, try to heal from her grief, beco-oh wait shes in prison. she goes through trauma after trauma and the place where she ends up? fucking jail!!!!!!!!! my girl doesnt need jail she needs.......idfk but NOT THAT!!!

this concludes my...*cough*....SMALL RAMBLE on why i think mimi miney is a very fucked up and tragic character. also i am of the belief that turner grey deserved to die.

#mimi miney #ace attorney #ini miney #im mentally ill about ace attorney #justice for all spoilers

[angelduffhazbin]

My Critics about Hazbin Hotel

I'm actually not a fan of cartoons and senseless violence. But Hazbin Hotel was thrown into my timeline with the song “Addict”. The first thing that caught my eye was the color combinations, which I found absolutely unique about this animation style. I also liked the Angeldust twist. On the one hand the super erotic stripper, on the other hand the victim of his pimp. This made me want to look at the plot. And what should I say? I fell in love with the characters. I particularly liked Alastor. Since the series didn't continue for a long time, I watched Helluva Boss and also thought this series was good. 1. From SA to an Rapefetisch(?): The series is criticized for sexualizing Valentino's abusive behavior and the fact that he rapes Angeldust or has him raped. I must say. I am rather ambivalent about this criticism. I remind you again of “Addict”. Angeldust is seen dancing erotically on a pole, while sequences are shown in which he is seen suffering in his bed and Cherry comes to comfort him. You see Valentino force a kiss on him at the end and drive away with him. Basically it doesn't matter whether Raph or Ralph (?) drew a rape comic, which Vivziepop used for her series. Because what happens in episode four is nothing like what happens in "Addict." This interplay of relationship-eroticism and abuse-rape can also be found in the voice messages that Valentino sends Angel. In this way, Valentino continues to bind Angel to him, even without a contract. On the other hand, I can understand that fans are still upset by this. I mean, there is sexual tension between Valentino and Angel Dust. The way Valentino blows the smoke in Angel's face or the way Angel dances on the chains... Then you see them in bed together. Between the scenes in which you see Angel suffering, you also see scenes that could ensure that Val's behavior could be put in a positive light. Maybe Viv should pay a little more attention to this in her production. 2. The old Cast is gone: What made me very sad was that the old voices of our favorite characters weren't used at all. As far as I know, it was because of an argument between Vivziepop and Ashley. Erin, a Spindlehorse team member, revealed a WhatsApp history by messaging Ashley about her mental health during production and Vivziepop seemingly saw it as an attack. Others say Vivziepop learned something unpleasant about Ashley and gossiped about it to others. Whatever it was, the voice actors were dragged into the dispute and fired, among other things, because they were friends with Ashley. I don't know if that's true now. If so, then Viv has a nice place in hell. In any case, I'm a little sad for the old voice actors because I find it unusual to hear the characters now have different voices. I wish Viv had kept the old team. 3. The Main-Characters seem to be Mary Sues: The headline is a little exaggerated. But I had to roll my eyes at some points. Husker is said to have been an overlord. Why? How important is it to the plot that Husk was an overlord? So that he is particularly strong? I liked him as a player who gambled away his soul to Alastor. It hardly makes any sense since we were told by Vaggie in the prologue that Alastor has already killed overlords. So why spare Husk? A fan theory has come true. Vaggie is an angel. *Head greets tabletop* If she knows about Alastor and what he did, I'm guessing she'll be in hell for longer than 10 years. If not, it doesn't matter. She speaks Spanish, likes to swear and as background information we know that she was in an abusive relationship with a man. This had such an impact on her that she became a lesbian, because of it. She also takes the people from the hotel to a gun fight and has them fight there... She's definitely an angel. *irony off* To me it would have been more logical if she had killed her violent boyfriend as a human and ended up in hell because of it. But no. She must be an OP angel. I then wonder what Niffty is. Probably God. lol (Part 2)

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel

[laudsimogen]

This Hunger, It Isn't You (Ch. 10)

Read on AO3

Imogen shifted her focus back to the Plague as Laudna disappeared, and she subconsciously took a step back. She hadn’t realized how much more confidence Laudna’s presence had given her.

She tamped down the urge to run. If the Plague were going to kill her, she’d be moving faster, wouldn’t she? This could still work.

“Do you speak my language?” Imogen said hesitantly as the tall woman reached the top of the staircase. “I heard you say something before, but I don’t know how much you understand. I’m sorry I don’t know yours.”

“It was foolish of you to come here, little one,” the Plague said, her voice rough and punctuated by coughs. “The Entity is busy now, but it will still know you were here. I cannot let you leave.”

Imogen took another step back, her heart pounding. This was fine. It would suck, but it would be fine.

“That’s all right,” Imogen said. “You can kill me. But can we talk first?”

The Plague paused. “If I speak with you, you would submit without a fight?”

Imogen nodded. “Yes,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“I no longer have a name.”

“Well, do you remember what your name used to be, then? My name is Imogen.”

The killer sighed. “There is no point in exchanging pleasantries,” she said, “but if you must insist, you may call me Adiris.”

“Okay,” Imogen said. “Thank you. I just have a few questions; it won’t take long.”

Adiris nodded and gestured for Imogen to continue.

“How long have you been here?” Imogen asked. “Do you know?”

“No,” Adiris said. “But it has been a very, very long time. Centuries. Perhaps even millennia.”

Shit. This was already more than Imogen had bargained for. “It doesn’t seem like you enjoy killing us,” she said. “Is the Entity the only reason you do it?”

Adiris gave a dissatisfied hum. “It is now. But it was not always the only reason. It had offered salvation for my people, and for many years, I believed my actions here were keeping my people alive there. But it was not the case. It fooled me, and now I must punish others for my own naivety.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Imogen said. “Did you ever try rebelling against the Entity?”

“No.” Adiris’s expression had not changed much, but now it took on a darker tone. “Rebellion is futile. I have seen others attempt it. Most are no longer here. Those who are can be likened to beasts. They have no sapience, only prey drive.” She paused. “I did consider it once, to bring an end to my pain. But I would only be replaced with someone new if I were disposed of. At least, as I am, I can kill quickly and with little suffering for the victims.”

Imogen began to feel sick as she processed the new information. “How many of you are still yourselves? How many could be reasoned with?”

“Very few,” Adiris said. “The one you came here with and the one your people call the Wraith. Perhaps the huntress I share these woods with, or the two children, but those may already be too far gone. Time takes its toll. I have been very careful to keep my soul. Others have not the same level of constitution.”

“So, that’s it,” Imogen murmured. “Three of you. It’s not enough.”

“No.”

“Okay.” Okay. So, the killers couldn’t do anything, not without the Entity breaking them. Imogen had thought more of them than not would still have retained their humanity, but if that wasn’t the case, then…then, there was nothing. There was nothing the survivors could do, and there was nothing the killers could do.

“I am sorry,” Adiris said. “It is time for you to go. I will make it fast.”

“Okay,” Imogen said again. She felt numb as Adiris took her head between her hands, uttered another prayer, and twisted.

Imogen woke, as expected, at the campfire. What she didn’t expect was Ashton standing over her, arms crossed, frowning down at her.

“Good,” they said. “Wasn’t sure you would wake up. What the hell were you thinking?”

Imogen furrowed her brow and sat up. She felt great compared to how she usually did after resurrection; this time, she just had a sore neck. “What are you talking about?”

“Going to see the Plague? I thought you were just sticking to the one killer. Insane is one thing, Imogen; stupid is another.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Ashton wasn’t usually one to scold people, and Imogen had never seen them this pissed, at least not at one of their friends. “It’s fine. If you mean gettin’ myself killed, I let her do it. How did you even know where I was?”

“I had a trial with Laudna,” Ashton said. “She told me. And she let us all escape, so that was nice, but it’s beside the point. You died out there.”

Imogen sighed. She didn’t understand the point Ashton was trying to make, and frankly, she was too tired to try. “And?”

“And I just had to drag your body back here.”

Imogen’s heart dropped. “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know.”

Ashton sighed, and some of the tension left their body. “I know,” they said. “Honestly, neither did I; I just…I was afraid you were gone.” They glanced over at their sleeping group of friends. “I didn’t tell the others. Didn’t want them to worry.”

“I didn’t think…I mean, I guess I just assumed it would be like dying in the trials,” Imogen murmured. “Thank you. For bringing me back.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda have this thing where I like having my friends around,” Ashton said.

“I’ll be more careful,” Imogen said. “I don’t need to go back out there, anyway; I’m sure Laudna wouldn’t mind talkin’ to me here.” If she still wants to talk to me after I tell her what I learned, Imogen thought. It wasn’t as if she could find any way to help the other woman escape this place now, and while she hoped they could stay in contact, she wouldn’t blame Laudna if she wanted to keep her distance from someone she would end up having to hunt for the rest of time. She couldn’t expect Laudna to go easy on her every time, not with the…the punishments…

“Wait,” Imogen said. “You said Laudna let you escape? All of you?”

Ashton shrugged. “Yeah. She said she was tired of killing. Wish all of them were like that, right?”

“Oh, no.” Imogen’s stomach turned. “Why would she do that? She knows she’ll get hurt.”

“I’m sure she’s all right,” Ashton said. “I mean, she did mention punishment, but…she said she’ll be fine. I’m guessing she’s been through it before.”

“I’m gonna go wait for her,” Imogen said. “If she’s not already around, maybe she will be soon.”

“Do you want company?”

Imogen nodded, and Ashton held out their hand to help her up. Then, they stood together at the edge of the light.

“Laudna?” Imogen called. “Are you there?”

She all but held her breath waiting for an a reply, but only silence answered her. She sat down with Ashton and halfheartedly talked about meaningless, trivial things with them, constantly looking back into the trees and hoping to see movement, until Ashton left to sleep.

She did not sleep. She sat and stared into the shadows, anxiously plucking grass and breaking fallen leaves to occupy her hands. Surely Laudna would have come to hear about her conversation with Adiris by now if everything were fine.

But maybe she just needed rest. Maybe she just needed time to recuperate from whatever punishment she was dealt. Maybe she’d come tomorrow, or the next day.

Imogen spent every waking moment waiting for Laudna, but she never came. It was on the third day that she couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take not knowing what had come of her friend and whether she was even still alive.

“I have to go,” Imogen murmured to Ashton. “I know it’s dangerous. I’ll be as careful as I can. But I have to help her if she’s not okay.” She couldn’t meet their eyes. “Don’t come after me if I don’t come back. I don’t want to put you in danger, too.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Ashton said. “I’m not gonna stop you, but you can’t stop me comin’ after you if you’re dead, so.”

“Ashton…”

“I’ll bring the others with me if it comes to that,” they said. “If they want to come. But they will.”

Imogen sighed. “All right,” she said. “Just…give me a while. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get there and back, especially without Laudna leading me.”

“I will,” Ashton said. “Good luck. I hope you find her.”

“Me, too,” Imogen said, and she stepped into the woods.

It was easier to find Laudna’s realm now that she had been there a couple times. She cut straight through Adiris’s land, confident that the priestess was still holed up in her temple, and she made it to Laudna’s cabin without a hitch.

But something wasn’t right. She’d known it probably wouldn’t be, but she’d still held out some hope that she’d find Laudna relaxing at home, surprised to see her, saying something like “I was just about to come fetch you.”

Imogen could hear movement inside the cabin. Creaking, shuffling, thudding. If she listened closely, she could hear whispers echoing in the wooden walls, but she couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter. It was Laudna’s voice, but it wasn’t Laudna’s usual dripping, saccharine tone. It was her, but it wasn’t her.

Imogen couldn’t help herself. She snuck around to the window facing the hearth and peered in through the broken panes of glass. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

Laudna sat hunched on the floor in her form of dread, her head tucked between her knees and her long, spindly fingers clutching at her hair near the roots. All of the skin Imogen could see was covered in new scarring, and she twitched like a horse plagued by flies. The whispers were interrupted by quiet weeping.

Imogen couldn’t breathe for a moment, and when she finally did, she couldn’t suppress her soft cry of horror.

Laudna’s head snapped up at the sound and her eyes, usually so deep but now devoid of the spark that usually shone through them, bored into Imogen. They faced each other, frozen for a heartbeat, before Laudna lunged.

She ran on all fours, limbs bent at odd angles, and Imogen fell back off of the porch as Laudna crawled through the window, breaking and cutting herself on what was left of the glass, leaving black ichor in her wake.

Imogen scrambled back in the grass, desperately trying to find enough purchase to get to her feet and run. She couldn’t break her gaze away from Laudna’s face, from her unhinged jaw and sagging cheeks. Those empty eyes, just black pits in her face now.

Imogen had no hope of escape. She knew that, and she accepted it quickly, but she resolved to use what little time she had left to try.

“Laudna,” she said, “I know you’re in there. It’s me! It’s Imogen. You don’t wanna hurt me.”

Laudna didn’t break her stride as Imogen spoke, tears falling silently down her face. But she kept going even as Laudna pinned her down with a thin, claw-like hand on her chest, her heart hammering into Laudna’s palm. The nails dug into her skin, and she cried as the other hand tore into her face, then wrapped around her throat.

“Please,” Imogen continued, her voice muffled by the blood running into her mouth and the pressure on her windpipe. The hand on her chest pierced her deeper, and Laudna leaned over, her dripping face just inches away. Imogen tried to make eye contact, but her vision was already swimming. She couldn’t focus.

“Laudna, it’s me,” she choked out. “Please. This isn’t you.”

Laudna hesitated. What little consciousness Imogen had left filled with hope, even as she realized she was going to die regardless. Laudna’s nails were in her heart now, but she was back, or at least part of her. That beautiful spark had returned to her eyes. Imogen took comfort in it, and she reached out to touch Laudna’s mind one last time before she faded.

#critical role #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #my writing #this hunger it isn't you #LISTEN i was GOING to save this until tomorrow. but i couldn't stop writing and now it's 6 am so #oops

[myuselessartandstories]

Story #5

Crazy

I was going to miss this town. This town, the town that had built me and helped me grow. Had been my nutrients and lifeline. They’d helped me through so much. They’re gone now. I’m the only one left. I couldn’t live like this much longer. I longed for human interaction. I was hungry as well.

I decided to leave my empty town. Though it may be my home town, the one that grew me, made me the person I am today, I no longer have any purpose. I need to move to a city with more people. Thankfully, there was one not far away. I could walk and make it by the next day.

I donned the best suit I could find, I couldn’t look like a savage in the big city. The suit was nice and new, with a blue tie and jacket, and a clean white shirt and blue pants. It was a good find.

I started my journey to the city, ready to start my new life. I was excited for the new people I would meet, the new things I might try, and the new food I would eat. Who knew what kind of delicacies there were in the big cities? 

It took me a lot longer than I thought it would to reach the city, but I saw it quickly. It had buildings taller than the sky, and automobiles everywhere, spewing their nasty gray smog. It was amazing. So many people were walking or driving, going from place to place, dressed up in suits and dresses with caps and gloves.

I decided the first thing I would do was find a nice place to stay. I didn’t want an apartment, or too big of a house. I was not a greedy person. I instead found a nice little house, big enough for a family of two. I would talk to the owners about me buying it. I hoped the city people would be kind enough to give me a meal while we talked.

I went inside, having to climb in through a window as something held the door shut. I saw nobody, so I thought nobody was home. I would talk to them when they got back. I went to the kitchen and looked at their tools. Such clean pots and silverware, and their knives as sharp as can be. I picked out the biggest and sharpest ones I could find.

I turned around to face the door open. A woman stood there staring at me, her eyes wide. She was in a nice dress with flowers that went to her knees. She had a pink bow in her hair. The man that stood beside her was in a black suit with a blue tie. 

I started to talk to them about me having the house, but the man just ran to his landline and called someone. The woman kept screaming at me. I thought she was mad, so I decided to end her suffering. I swiftly walked to her and slit her throat with the knife I held. 

She fell to the ground, writhing around on the ground, her blood pouring everywhere. I felt something hit my back, and I turned to see it was the man holding a bat. He had to be mad as well, to attack a stranger being so kind, so I ended him too, as quickly as I did the woman.

I felt bad I didn’t get to have a nice chat with them while I ate, but decided it would have been hard to talk to such mad people. They probably didn’t even speak English. You never know with crazy people.

I was only halfway through my meal when some more people showed up. They were all dressed in the same suits, with caps on their heads and golden badges on their chest. They held something black in their hands that was pointed at me. 

I continued my feast, enjoying the wonderful taste that the city woman had. I thought nothing of the new people. Maybe they were here because this was their home too. It would be nice to chat and eat. One of them kept shouting something at me, but I paid no mind. 

I heard a loud bang, and fell backwards. I stared at the ceiling, confused. I looked down at my shirt to see red spreading. My blood? I wasn’t sure. I’d never seen it before. I felt no pain, so it couldn’t have been mine, right? 

My sight was starting to go black. Was I dying? I couldn’t be. I didn’t deserve to. I wasn’t mad. I was just hungry. What else was I supposed to eat? Humans were supposed to be what you ate, right? So why did I deserve to die? Surely I wasn’t mad. Surely I wasn’t. That was my last thought.

(I like writing about people who don't think normally. Not in a mental health way, but a crazy serial killer/maniac kinda way. I like exploring how people's minds work in a fucked up way.)

#story #short story #my story #bad story

[valyalyon]

November 7, 2024

Is this post fun? No. Is the next post cute? Yes. Please endure this suffering or skip it entirely and wait for the next post. DIE MASTER LIST OR #LYONDIE

The next day, I woke up, took Theo to daycare, and returned to Raphael’s parent’s house to work. I finished my shift at around 6pm...

CW: Descriptions of non con/SA, kidnapping, explicit language.

...By then, Raphael was already home from work, and so he told me he’d be coming with me to get Theo.

As we were walking out to the driveway, I had turned a corner before Raphael and disappeared.

In that moment someone grabbed me and took me to a car on the corner of the street. I screamed at the top of my lungs as the man threw me in the back seat of his car and jumped in the front.

Just as he sped away I saw Raphael running down the driveway towards the car to stop us. But he didn’t make it in time. We were already gone and soon I realized who had taken me and what had happened.

I had a stalker, a former coworker that I’d met working my first job. His name was Nathan. Nathan was a lot older than me, by 2024 he had to have been between 27-29.

He would disappear from my life and then reappear. I would tell him frequently I wasn’t interested, but for whatever reason Nathan could never get over me.

And now he had fucking kidnapped me.

“Nathan please don’t hurt me, I need to pick up my son.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll even take you back home,” that was a fucking lie, “we just need to resolve some issues between us.”

Can anybody hear me when I’m hidden underground? Can anybody hear me? Am I talking to myself?

He drove me out to a dark viewing area and hopped in the back seat. For some reason the locks didn’t open when he parked the car and I was soon being pinned down.

From there he spent two hours raping me repeatedly while I pleaded for him to stop and even hit him and fought against him. But nothing. He was a former wrestler and I knew I didn’t really stand a chance.

The worst part was that he kept cumming inside me so by the end of it I was in an utter mess of sobs and convulsions. He asked me if I would be his girlfriend and I told him no and that I needed to desperately get back to my son.

I thought he would continue to rape me. Nothing had worked up until that point but I guess he had reached his limit. I wasn’t even sure how many times he came in me after the fact but I knew it had happened at least once. Around then was probably when I started to disassociate because my memory after that is foggy.

He did stop though and he moved to the driver’s seat. He proceeded to drive me into town and dump me off on the side of the road.

From there, being as he had taken my clothes and I was naked, I proceeded to run into a nearby convenience store and scream at the cashier to call the police. Luckily the cashier was a woman and she called the police immediately and got me a massive blanket.

From there a lot of it is a blur. I didn’t have Raphael’s number memorized so I had to call Julius and tell him what happened and where to find me.

My next cohesive memories were of me sitting on the hospital bed in a gown that I could feel not staying together all the way. I was staring blankly at something but I had no idea what it was exactly. Then a nurse comes in, “honey, there are two men here looking for you. Are they involved in any of this? Their names are Julius and Raphael.”

“No, no… they’re not involved…” I mumbled staring fixedly on my target without movement.

“Would you like to see them?”

I don’t remember saying yes. But I must have. Because next thing I know I hear loud footsteps entering the room. I can barely tear my eyes away from where my eyes had rested, but I manage just in time to see Julius standing behind Raphael as he closed the gap in between us.

Raphael’s arms wrapped around me and nearly pulled me off the bed. He buried his head in my neck and let out a breath so pained that I wondered why he felt that way about me. We had barely started dating and already another man had used me. I hated myself.

For unknown reasons, Raphael did not hate me. He pulled away to look me in the eyes and I was shocked when his hands touched my cheeks and I felt wetness. I had been crying. I don’t know for how long. He kissed me on the lips and then hugged me again, burying his face again, and saying, “I have never been more afraid in my life.”

The whole time, Julius stood there by the door. His expression was unreadable but there was something of almost pain behind his eyes. I don’t know. I can’t pretend to understand what goes on inside his head.

I hadn’t yet spoken a word. I began to open my mouth to speak and Raphael again pulled away so he could look at me. as soon as his eyes met mine I dissolved into sobs. “Is my son okay?” Were the words I finally choked out.

“He’s home,” Raphael told me, trying to wipe my flowing tears as they fell, “my parents stayed with him.”

From there an investigation commenced by the police department and I left the hospital within three hours and returned home with Raphael. Life was never the same after that.

SONG REFERENCE Tag, You're It by Melanie Martinez

#smut #non con #dark romance #tw sa #tw rap3 #original story #booklr #writing #lyondie #bluestlyon

[cleetus42]

chamomile tea has no effect on me except making me need to pee. like staring at my computer screen to develop eye strain is the only way i can get to sleep. i sleep at like 2-3am get up at 11am. and i only feel a drive to do things after the sun sets :(

like i really dont care about establishing a harsh routine . i just. aah i hate how at school they say shit like treat school like a 9-5 job and work 5 hrs after school too. load of bull. i dont see the point in depriving urself of momentary joys just bc ur working towards a goal - both can happen at the same time. but its not like schools care about learning, or nurturing young minds. its about conditioning you into working hard and obeying authority, waking up at ridiculous hours to do the same thing over and over again. break times are loud and there are too many people and too much noise. hallways are filled with people with no spatial awareness of others, the common room has been taken over by a bunch of nitwits, people think its funny to take my seat in the computer room.

and now that im gone people are extending their condolences like ive died. only in my absence do people stop and reflect. my empty seat in class. my name thats called out with no response. my so called friend whos eating alone, she convinces herself its out of choice, but she knows the only girl who gave her the time of day is gone. no text. no messages. no calls. not like there were any. i have disappeared, albeit only for a week and people are already mourning me.

i mean, im better and alhamdulillah i am. but its so funny to just think about. and i appreciate people. i appreciate the kind people, and i dont really want them to worry, but i dont really think i need to do anything. ill go back. but ill go back without relapsing. in minecraft you dont go into a cave without torches. i mean you can but you can run into danger pretty easily. sometimes you can go in with just torches and a pickaxe, granted u dont run into too many mobs and u dont go too far into the cave. but if ur searching below that specific coordinate for diamonds, or you hope to find a mineshaft or a dungeon - you go with armour and a good sword. to protect yourself from the hostile mobs so you can appreciate the treasures you find in the chests, in the nooks and crannys . in the twists and turns of the cave.

prozac. cbt . eating well. sleeping earlier. they will be my armour. ive already recovered somewhat from my sadness, and i dont feel tempted to throw myself off something tall to relieve myself of my suffering. so. its working.

alhamdulillah.

ya Allah forgive me for my sins, maintain my happiness and grant me rizq in all aspects of my life. guide me, and continue to guide me, protect me from the grievances of this world and let me find solace in your remembrance. ameen

#clee's log ♡

[tazismad]

World Menopause Day - where the GP won’t admit you have it

In the last 2-3 years, I have been all over the place. Lots of people will say “Well Taz, we have been through a pandemic, and you did lose your parents within two years of each other, it’s probably just depression causing all of these symptoms”. 

Well, I have been in therapy for my grief and I know I have not fully dealt with the overall trauma of it, but it does not explain all the other symptoms so closely linked to Perimenopause. 

The day before World Menopause Day, I went to see the GP. For context, I also went in January of this year. Where one minute I was told I was not menopausal, and when I raised a complaint about this, was told that I was. If only my GP Surgery could actually do their job in the first place, I probably would not be in the state I currently find myself in. But, I am like a dog with that proverbial bone - I would not give up. So, in order to push my mental health really down the swanny, I decided to go and see them for a second chance... BAD DECISION. 

I went in and advised about my complaint and that things were not getting any better. Instead of being empathetic and understanding, the first thing they did was test my blood pressure. It was high, twice. Maybe because I have anxiety through the roof, maybe because I do not know what is going on with my body and I am worried. 

Note: I am a big petite girl. i.e. I am fat. I could do with losing weight. I eat fairly ok, I walk every day and I have reduced my caffeine intake dramatically. I don’;t drink, because I am muslim. 

I happened to mention about my ablutions. So what was her response? “I think we need to run some blood tests... test for cholesterol... I can’t give you HRT as you have high blood pressure... It’s all about your gut, if you fix that, you will feel so much better... I do pilates and feel great” 

There was no space for my symptoms to be discussed. There was no empathy provided. She was a middle class old woman, who clearly had no time for me. She could be doing other things than seeing me. I asked her if the HBP could be because of hormones. I was told it was very unlikely (I have researched on perimenopause and HBP is a factor so very ignored by GP’s to the point in the article that it is often misdiagnosed and there are cases that suggest HRT helps with this). 

I went home. I ugly cried that ugly cry you can’t breathe. I kicked the chair. I felt so desperate and alone. And this was just yesterday. I spent the rest of the day with palpitations. And felt incredibly low. This woman (and not the first female GP) made me feel like utter shit. 

Today I watched Cherry Healy on BBC Breakfast for World Menopause Day make me feel validated, that there was help out there, that I should continue to push on. All my hopes of the NHS GP’s supporting me in the journey have gone. And what is really sad about this, is that there will be other women like me suffering, continuing to be ignored, because a blood test does not definitively tell them whether or not they are menopausal or not. 

To all the GP’s supporting menopausal and perimenopausal women, I salute you for your hard work and believing in your patients symptoms, and not writing them off because they are fat, overweight or depressed. Or shoving them anti-depressants as a first port of call. 

To note: My symptoms include the following (not or sometimes all at the same time): irregular periods (sometimes incredibly painful), dry skin, mood swings, depression, bloating, joint pain, hot flushes, Brain fog where you cannot remember the word pen pot, poor sleep or even insomnia at points, tiredness, uncontrollable rage and irritability, a whole plethora of digestive issues, no sex drive whatsoever, incredibly high anxiety (the worst I have ever experienced), depression, headaches. breast tenderness, weight gain, thinning hair so much so you can see the new hair growth vs old hair very distinctly (and my hairdresser has also noticed this), teeth and gum issues that come and then go, cannot concentrate for long periods to an ADHD level, itchy skin (inv. hives and urticaria), brittle nails or ridging, heart palpitations and muscle issues in my back and legs. 

Women know when something is wrong with themselves. As Cherry so poignantly said, we put up with so much we know when something is out of kilter. We are lead by medicine still primarily designed to meet the needs of a man. If this was happening to a man, there would be much more research and support than after the 100′s of years we have known about this. Women are still fighting to be heard, and other women it seems do not want to support us in that journey. Why else does it take years to get answers and then solutions to those for so many women I have read about or spoken to. I know I am not alone, but I am still the statistic that keeps on fighting. 

Please keep fighting, read the books, the internet - go to your GP with this info and fight for what you know. I talk about Menopause, but women’s health overall seems to be a neglected field that is only just getting the coverage it needs to affect change for those suffering. And just remember you are not alone; speak out and talk to others. You will be very surprised about how your suffering is echoed across your friendship groups and the wider community. Finally, if it helps at all, I believe you. 

#menopause #perimenopause #symptoms #menopause symptoms #health #mental health #gp's #support #guidance #advice #women #believed #worldmenopauseday

[crucifixing]

.

#and that’s not to say I’m in an unsafe position #I’m just living my life for my girlfriend #but if she were gone there’s no point or drive for me to continue suffering like this #I also see Tyler growing older and getting less and less mentally ill and like #it depresses me because it seems like such a far off achievement #he has a good family and had a wonderful support network #and I can see why he says it’s worth it to stay alive because he did something with his life #and he gets to enjoy life in its optimal condition #I just think it’s really difficult to cope with and I’m kind of a complicated case #it also hurts to know that if I did kill myself that nobody would really know #Tyler should be my best friend according to my memories and how my mind works #my brain says that he is and insists that he is #but there’s the logical side that knows that’s bullshit and I’m falsifying shit #but goddamn knowing that Tyler wouldn’t even know me in death is such a hard pill to swallow #I’m not the real josh #I’m just a fucked up person that used a copy of him to cope with trauma #how am I supposed to live with that #think of me as if josh had gone through a process to get rid of every disgusting and ugly part of himself #I’d be the gross substance that was left behind #but I want to go home so badly #that’s all I want #I just want to be back inside of my body again